‘I wouldn’t be here if I was.’
She at last looked up. Was Keith over Maureen? Or was he on the rebound? ‘What happened?’
‘She found someone else.’
‘That must have been rotten for you.’
Keith was about to answer when the door opened, the others coming in, eyes widening when they saw Keith.
‘Back already,’ Paula said, jumping to her feet. ‘Err, this…this is Keith. We used to work in the same factory.’
Val was the first to recover. ‘We didn’t feel like a long walk. Hello, Keith. I’m Val.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ he said.
Cheryl stepped forward, hand held out. ‘I’m Cheryl and it’s nice to meet you.’
Betty’s eyes were narrowed with suspicion as she too introduced herself, then saying, ‘So, Keith, why are you here?’
‘I wanted to get back in touch with Paula.’
‘What for?’
‘Betty,’ protested Paula, ‘we’re old friends.’
The atmosphere felt strained now, and as though sensing it too, Keith said, ‘Well, I’d best be off.’
Both Val and Cheryl said goodbye, but Paula noted that Betty remained silent as she stepped outside with Keith, closing the door behind them.
His car wasn’t far away, but as they walked towards it, Keith reached out to clutch her hand. ‘Paula, I didn’t get a chance to answer your question.’
‘What question?’
‘The one about Maureen and, just to set the record straight, no, it wasn’t rotten for me when she chucked me in.’
‘It…it wasn’t?’
‘Look, Maureen was all right, a bit of a laugh, but that was all.’
‘When I worked at the factory, it looked like more than that to me.’
When they stopped by Keith’s car, he turned to face her. ‘I ain’t proud of myself, but in truth, I only took Maureen out in the first place because I couldn’t have you. Maybe I hoped it would make you jealous, but then you left, and it just became a sort of habit, that’s all.’
‘Oh Keith.’
‘From the first day you started work in the factory, I knew there was only one girl for me. Please, munchkin, don’t turn me down again.’
‘I’m not going to,’ she cried, throwing herself into his arms.
What followed was a happier time for Paula, but it took Cheryl some time to convince her that she hadn’t shown any negligence in her care of Alicia. Cheryl had worried that Paula would leave, but thankfully that hadn’t happened.
When Paula started courting Keith, Betty had been difficult at first, but Cheryl understood why. Paula had become like a replacement daughter to Betty and she feared losing her. Keith was such a nice young man, bringing them flowers and helping out with odd repair jobs around the house. He was so obviously in love with Paula and trying so hard that Betty had finally thawed.
When Alicia died, it had been a hard time for all of them, but thankfully they had managed to move forward, all more aware that, with elderly residents, it was something that inevitably would happen again. Maybe they’d be more prepared next time, find it easier to cope–but she hoped it wouldn’t be for some time yet.
With a wry smile, Cheryl kicked herself for not realising there was a dumbwaiter when she bought the house. It must have been boxed in years ago, but had now been uncovered, saving both Paula and Betty the job of running up and downstairs with trays. It made a huge difference, and with a dishwasher installed in the kitchen, both cooks were a lot happier. It had been short–sighted of her not to install one in the first place, but there had been no complaints from Betty when she’d been cook, or Nora, and it had taken Val to point out what a help one would be.
Alicia’s room had been taken by their first male resident, William Penwith, a lovely elderly gentleman who was proving to be very popular with the women. It was November, and Cheryl’s thoughts now turned towards Christmas. She wanted their first one in the nursing home to be special, with everyone–staff and residents alike–sharing a wonderful time.
‘You’re quiet, Cheryl,’ said Val.
‘I was just thinking.’
‘Do you feel like sharing your thoughts?’
‘I was thinking about this place, Christmas, and how we’re going to celebrate.’
‘Christmas yes, but when it comes to this place, don’t you ever think about anything else?’
Cheryl had to laugh, then saying, ‘Yes, I suppose I do come over as a bit obsessive.’
‘Don’t worry, I know how much it means to you, but don’t you ever think about a boyfriend, marriage?’
‘Not really. What’s brought this on?’
Val shrugged. ‘Perhaps seeing Paula with Keith, how happy she is.’
‘I’m too busy to think about men, and anyway, they’ve never showed much interest in me.’
‘I think they do, but for some reason you walk around with your eyes shut. Take now, for instance, you haven’t even seen what’s under your nose.’
Cheryl raised her eyebrows. ‘Val, what
are
you talking about?’
‘Doctor Harman.’
‘What! But he’s not interested in me.’
‘Like I said, you walk around with your eyes shut.’
‘But…but…’
‘Yes, that’s taken the wind out of your sails, hasn’t it? Wake up, Cheryl. You’re the only person who hasn’t noticed how he looks at you.’
‘Betty, did you hear that?’ Cheryl squeaked as she came into the room.
‘Hear what?’
‘What Val just said about Doctor Harman.’
‘That he likes you, yes, but I thought you knew.’
‘I had no idea.’
‘Well you know now.’
Cheryl felt her face flooding with colour. Oh, she’d never be able to look the man in the eye again without blushing.
Val chuckled, ‘That’s brought some colour to your cheeks. Still, enough said. I think I’ll take Treacle for a walk. Anyone want to join me?’
‘Yes, I’ll come,’ Betty said, ‘but we’d better wrap up warm. What about you, Cheryl?’
‘Err…not this time. I think I’ll have a bath.’
‘Yes, and while you’re soaking, think about your admirer,’ Val teased.
‘I’ll do no such thing.’
‘You’re mad. He’s lovely,’ said Betty.
Cheryl huffed as she left the room, but after running a bath and sinking into it, she did indeed find herself thinking about Doctor Harman. He had lovely blue eyes and she loved the way they crinkled at the corners when he smiled. Stop it, don’t be stupid, she chided herself. Val and Betty must be out of their minds. A man like Simon Harman would never be interested in her.
Richard felt sick to his stomach as he spoke to his wife. ‘Mel, we’ve got to tell them.’
‘Why? Loads of women have high blood pressure when they’re pregnant and in most cases it’s nothing to worry about.’
‘That’s not good enough, Mel. I’ve said it before: what if anencephaly is genetic?’
‘And I’ve told you it isn’t.’
Richard shook his head as he rose to his feet. ‘I’m sorry, Mel, but this has gone on long enough. I’m going to see my son,’ and, ignoring Mel’s shout of outrage, he walked out of the house.
Since the day early in her pregnancy that Ulrika had said her blood pressure was high, he’d felt this dreadful horror of history repeating itself. Even when she’d been to the clinic and was thrilled to report that everything appeared fine, it hadn’t eased his horror. They had a right to know–needed to know–the risk of anencephaly.
During the drive, Richard tried to rehearse his words, but in reality there would be no easy way to break this to them. He pulled up outside John and Ulrika’s mews cottage, but remained in the car for a while, once again trying to gather his thoughts. Then slowly he got out, knocked on the door, his son opening it.
‘Dad! What are you doing here?’
‘I’m sorry, son, I should have thought to ring you first, but can we talk?’
John stood back to let him in and with a heavy heart, Richard stepped inside.
‘Sit down, Dad.’
‘Where’s Ulrika?’
‘She’s tired and wanted an early night.’
‘Is she all right?’ Richard asked worriedly.
‘Yes, she’s fine, but what is it, Dad? I can see you’re uptight about something.’
Richard took a deep breath, then began to talk, watching the range of expressions that ran across his son’s face–until finally, he had said it all.
‘But…but why didn’t you tell us?’
‘Mel didn’t want you to know. She blamed herself–felt it was something she’d taken during the pregnancy.’
‘And was it?’
‘No, and the doctor convinced her of that,’ Richard said, ‘but it was eating her up. She refused to talk about it, and when you told me that Ulrika was pregnant, she still wouldn’t let me tell you.’
John’s head went down, and for a moment he said nothing. When he looked up, his eyes were hard, voice tightly controlled. ‘So Mel wouldn’t let you tell us–warn us that our baby might be at risk.’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’
‘And you went along with that?’
‘I’m sorry, son, but since Mel lost our baby, things haven’t been right between us. I’ve been trying, really trying, to make her see sense, but she gets so upset. I’m here now though. Telling you now.’
John leapt to his feet, his voice now high with anger. ‘As Ulrika is nearly eight months pregnant, it’s a bit bloody late.’
‘What is wrong? John, why are you shouting?’ Ulrika asked as she came into the room.
‘It’s all right, darling, go back to bed. My father is just leaving.’
Paula threw open the door, running into the basement flat, her eyes sparkling. ‘Hello everyone.’
Val’s smile was wry. ‘I don’t need to ask if you enjoyed your night off. Your face says it all.’
‘We had a lovely time. Lucy invited us to her flat, and it was nice to meet Myra.’
Betty frowned. ‘You’ve got a strange choice of friends.’
‘Yes, but they include you,’ Paula said, leaning forward from behind Betty to wrap arms around her neck. ‘And you, Val, and you, Cheryl.’
‘Get off you daft moo,’ Betty said, ‘and take that coat off. It feels damp.’
‘It’s raining,’ Paula quipped, ‘but yes, Mumsie, whatever you say, and I love you too.’
Betty felt her face flush with pleasure, but this was quickly followed by pain. Paula had called her Mumsie, said she loved her, and she loved her too, but if only it had been Anne saying those words. It was all right for Cheryl to talk about Christmas earlier, but Betty dreaded the memories that would be dredged up.
Somehow Betty knew she would have to get through it, paint a smile on her face for the residents, but she wished she had a magic wand that could wind time forward to a day long after Christmas. Or better still back: back to a time before she had caused those awful events–caused the death of a baby.
‘Why the long face, Betty?’ asked Cheryl.
‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ she said dismissively She didn’t want to talk about it, her feelings, knowing that she would only get the usual platitudes. Time hadn’t changed anything, and she knew now that it never would.
‘Cocoa all round?’ Paula asked.
‘I’ll do it,’ Betty offered.
‘No, you stay there,’ she said, leaning forward again to kiss Betty on the cheek. ‘At your age, we can’t have you getting worn out.’
‘My age!’ Betty protested. ‘I’m only a spring chicken.’
‘Yeah, if you say so.’
In the face of Paula’s happiness and affection, Betty’s mood lifted. ‘Enough of your lip. Just get the milk on.’
‘Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. I’ve found out why Mrs Wilson’s daughter won’t have anything to do with her.’
‘She told me she’d disowned her grandchildren,’ Betty remarked, ‘but I didn’t like to ask why.’
‘It’s because her daughter married a Jamaican.’
‘And she told you that?’
‘Yeah, she really opened up, said she wanted a young woman’s perspective and asked me what I thought about mixed–race marriages.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I said that black men ain’t my cup of tea, but if he was her daughter’s choice, and the geezer made her happy, good luck to her.’
‘How did she react to that?’
‘She said she realises that now, but it’s too late. Honestly, Betty, fancy disowning your grandchildren just because they’re coffee-coloured.’
Betty found her mood lowering again. If only she had grandchildren, no matter what colour, she’d shower them with love. Yet if they ever had children, John and Anne would never let her near them. The thought was unbearable, and Betty’s unhappiness rose to almost choke her.
‘Paula, I’ve been thinking about Christmas,’ Cheryl said. ‘I want to make it special.’
Betty rose to her feet. ‘I don’t think I’ll have any cocoa. I’m a bit tired so I’m off to bed.’
‘Betty, are you all right?’ Val asked.
‘I’m fine,’ she lied, and then calling goodnight was glad to get to her bedroom. With the pain of losing her children on her mind, she didn’t want to talk about Christmas, didn’t want to think about Christmas, but as she undressed and climbed into bed, she was haunted by the memories of last year.
Cheryl was delighted with how well things had gone. They had all shared Christmas dinner, staff and residents, but with Nora having two days off, Betty volunteered to cook the dinner, with the rest of them mucking in to give her a hand. It had been a job to drag her out of the kitchen, but when Cheryl had insisted, Betty joined them reluctantly.
The residents were now settled in their rooms, and in the basement sitting room, Cheryl looked at Betty, saw the sadness in her eyes, and understood why. In the days leading up to Christmas, Betty had looked anxiously at the post, but there hadn’t been cards from either of her children. It obviously still weighed heavily in Betty’s thoughts so, hoping to take her mind off it, Cheryl said, ‘It’s nice that Keith has taken Paula to meet his mother. I wonder how she’s getting on.’
‘Give them a chance. They’ve only just left,’ Val said then, rubbing her tummy, added, ‘I still feel like I’m bursting, but that was a wonderful dinner, Betty.’
‘I couldn’t agree more,’ Cheryl agreed.
‘How about a glass of sherry?’
‘Yes, good idea.’
Val poured the drinks, and then passing out the glasses, she chinked hers with Cheryl’s. ‘To our first Christmas, and continuing success next year.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’
‘It’s a shame Doctor Harman couldn’t join us.’
Cheryl went pink. ‘I don’t know how you had the nerve to ask him.’
‘It only seemed polite, and he looked disappointed that he had to decline. Apparently he always spends Christmas with his sister and her family.’
‘I think you were trying to matchmake again,’ Betty said.
‘Yes, well, if I leave it to those two they’ll never get together.’
‘Val, will you stop it?’ Cheryl protested. ‘I’ve told you, Simon isn’t interested in me.’
‘Oh, Simon now is it? Since when?’
‘I don’t know. We just sort of slipped into first–name terms.’
‘Oh good, it’ll be a date next.’
Cheryl tutted, refusing to be baited as she asked, ‘Betty, is there enough meat left to serve it cold with mashed potatoes tomorrow?’
‘For God’s sake, surely we’re not back to talking about this place again.’
‘Leave her alone, Val, and yes, Cheryl, there’s plenty of meat left.’
‘Oh, I give up,’ Val complained.
Cheryl smiled. Val didn’t know it, but she had a feeling that Simon was indeed going to ask her out. She wanted to savour the thought, yet at the same time wondered if it was really what she wanted. The home had become everything to her–her life. She was happy, truly happy, and did she really need a man in her life–even one as nice as Simon Harman?
‘All right?’ Keith asked.
‘Yes, but I’m nervous about meeting your mother.’
‘It’ll be fine, you’ll see, and I don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind about going round to Lucy’s tomorrow night?’
‘No, I haven’t. It was nice of her to invite us.’
‘I’m still not sure I want to spend Boxing Day with a couple of dikes.’
‘Keith!’ Paula protested.
‘Yeah, yeah, I know, but if me mates saw me I’d never live it down.’
‘So you’ve said before, but I’m just glad she sorted things out with Myra.’
‘I still think she should find herself a bloke.’
‘Keith, how many times have I got to tell you? Lucy doesn’t fancy men.’
‘It ain’t natural.’
‘Can’t you just accept her the way she is? Here, why are you pulling over?’
Keith didn’t answer until he had stopped the car. ‘If Lucy is more like a bloke, I don’t suppose anyone would want her as a bridesmaid.’
‘I dunno, maybe. Why ask me?’
‘Ain’t it obvious?’
Her eyes rounded like saucers. ‘You’re…you’re not asking me to…to…?’
‘Marry you,’ Keith finished for her. ‘Yes, I am, Paula.’
Still she stared at him, saying nothing, her face frozen in shock, until at last she stammered, ‘I…I can’t.’
‘Don’t say that. I know we ain’t been courting for long but, as I told you, since the day you started work in the factory, I knew you were the one for me. I love you, and thought you loved me too.’
‘I…I do.’
‘Then marry me.’
‘I…I can’t. When you find out, you won’t want me.’
‘Find out what?’
She blurted it all out then, sobbing, but when she came to the end, Keith pulled her into his arms.
‘I think I guessed, love, and it doesn’t matter. Well, except to say that I’d like to get me hands on the bastard who did it to you.’
‘You…you still want to marry me?’
‘Of course I do. Now put me out of my misery and give me your answer? What’s it to be? But if you don’t want me old mum coming after you for breaking her only son’s heart, it had better be yes.’
She took a juddering breath, smiled at last. ‘Well, I don’t fancy going up against your mum. Yes, I’d love to marry you.’
‘Oh, Paula,’ Keith said, dipping his head to give her a kiss.
It was after eleven when Paula came home, and Cheryl was the only one still up. ‘There you are,’ she said. ‘I wanted to talk to you and was hoping you wouldn’t be much longer. How did it go with Keith’s mother?’
‘Great, she’s smashing, but where are Betty and Val?’
‘They went to bed half an hour ago. Sit down, Paula. I know it’s late, but this won’t take long.’
‘I was hoping they’d still be up,’ she said, pulling out a seat.
‘Paula, I’ve watched you work, seen how competent you are, and I’ve had an idea.’
‘Oh yeah, what’s that?’
‘I think you should train to be a nurse.’
‘Me, a nurse! Leave it out.’
‘I think you’d be excellent.’
‘Cheryl, thanks for saying that, but well, there ain’t much point in talking about it.’
‘Why not?’
Paula grinned, her eyes sparkling. ‘’Cos I’m getting married, and Keith wants to start a family straight away.’
Cheryl was so sad at the thought of losing Paula, and knew Betty and Val would be devastated too. Yet looking at the joy reflected in Paula’s eyes, she couldn’t help but be happy for her. ‘That’s wonderful. When is the happy day?’
‘I know it might sound a bit quick, but Keith doesn’t want to wait. We thought next spring.’
‘It’s going to be rather a short engagement, and not a lot of time to plan a wedding, but if that’s what you both want, I’m happy for you.’
‘We don’t want a big affair, just family and maybe a few friends.’
Betty wandered into the room. ‘Oh, I can’t sleep. I think I’ll make a cup of hot milk. Do you two want one?’
‘Betty, you’d better sit down. Paula’s got some news,’ said Cheryl.
Paula didn’t wait, grinning widely as she said, ‘Guess what, Betty? I’m getting married.’
Betty’s face drained of colour. ‘Married! You’re getting married! Oh, no, that means you’ll be leaving me too! I can’t bear it. I can’t,’ and, stricken, she fled back to her room.
‘I didn’t expect you to react like that,’ Paula cried as she chased after Betty.
Cheryl ran a hand over her face. Slowly she rose to her feet, going into Betty’s bedroom to see Paula sitting on the side of the bed and trying to comfort her.
‘But you’re not losing me,’ Paula was saying. ‘I’m getting married, not leaving the country. You’ll still see lots of me, I promise.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really, now come on, buck up; after all, I’m gonna need help with planning this wedding. I couldn’t do it without you.’
Betty sniffed, wiped her eyes and then said, ‘I’m sorry, love. I don’t know what came over me.’
Cheryl heaved a sigh of relief. It was going to be all right, and quietly she left the room. Val still had to be told, but her reaction was sure to be nothing like Betty’s–at least she hoped not. Thoughts that she always struggled to keep at bay now rose in Cheryl’s mind–what they had caused and why Betty’s children wanted nothing to do with her.
But some good
had
come out of their plans. She had this house, had made it a home for all of them, and if Parker hadn’t been put away, she doubted that Paula would be where she was now. It had given Paula the confidence to take up her life again, to start going out with Keith, and now she was getting married. Betty had taken the news badly, but it was wonderful really, and instead of feeling miserable, surely it was something to celebrate?