The following morning, Sally was in despair. She had prepared Arthur’s breakfast, his manner again distant, but just as she was about to talk to him about it, Angel appeared.
‘I had a bad dream,’ she said, rubbing her eyes.
‘Come here, poppet,’ Arthur said, pulling her onto his lap to comfort her. ‘What was your dream about?’
‘I can’t remember now.’
Arthur hugged her to him and Sally found herself wishing he would do the same to her. It had been so long, so very long since he had held her.
‘Sorry, sweetheart, that’ll be Joe,’ Arthur said, urging Angel off of his lap when the doorbell rang. ‘I’ve got to go.’
Sally waited, but all she got was a short goodbye and then Arthur was gone. Sadly she got Angel ready, to find as they left the flat over an hour later, that Patsy was just going out too. ‘Good morning,’ Sally said. ‘Have you got an early appointment?’
‘Yes, one of my ladies is wanting a cut and set. Thanks for dinner last night. It was great.’
‘You’re welcome,’ she said, walking with Patsy to the corner, where they parted to go off in different directions.
Angel was unusually quiet, but when they drew close to Candle Lane she suddenly said, ‘I don’t like Patsy.’
‘But she’s nice. Why don’t you like her?’
‘Dunno, just don’t,’ Angel said and, letting go of her hand as they turned the corner, she ran ahead to number five.
Sally was unable to think of a reason for her daughter’s dislike of Patsy, and was frowning when she walked into her mother’s kitchen.
‘Hello, love,’ Ruth said. ‘What’s up?’
‘It’s nothing.’
‘That’s good because I’ve got to go or I’ll be late for work. Bye, Angel, see you later, pet,’ she called, the door slamming behind her.
‘Blimey, where’s the fire?’ Sadie complained.
‘What fire, Gamma?’
‘Oh, it’s just a silly saying for someone in a rush.’
Sally returned from taking Angel to school to find her gran waiting to question her. ‘As your mother said, what’s up, Sally?’
‘It’s nothing, Gran.’
‘Don’t give me that. It’s been obvious for a while now that something’s worrying you.’
Sally sat down, saying nothing for a moment, but then found that she wanted to confide in someone, the need to unburden overwhelming. ‘Since Arthur came home from hospital, he seems tired all the time, but it’s not just that, he’s acting strangely. He seems distant, remote, and hardly talks.’
‘That’s to be expected.’
Sally was surprised by her gran’s answer. ‘Is it? But why?’
‘He was in hospital for months, and in that time the ward became his insular little world. He was cut off from outside worries, with everything done for him. Now he’s had to adapt to ordinary life again, and is doing a job he’s unfamiliar with. He’s got a lot to learn and must be worried that if it all goes wrong, he’ll lose everything. That’s a lot of responsibility on his shoulders and perhaps the burden of it is wearing him down.’
‘I hadn’t thought of that, and yes, you could be right,’ Sally said. ‘Poor Arthur, I’ll have to be more supportive. Thanks, Gran, I’m so glad I confided in you.’
‘And I’m glad I come in useful for something. Now how about putting the kettle on?’
‘It wouldn’t suit me, Gran.’
‘Yeah, very funny, but I don’t suppose it would look any worse on you than the daft fashions youngsters are wearing nowadays. It’s all mini-dresses, long boots, straight-cut hair and black- rimmed eyes that make them look like pandas.’
‘I keep meaning to get myself some new clothes and I rather fancy a miniskirt, but I just never seem to have the time.’
‘Leave it out, Sally. You look fine as you are and I can’t see Arthur letting you wear a short skirt.’
‘Oh, you’d be surprised, Gran. My upstairs neighbour wears them all the time and Arthur ogles her legs with great appreciation whenever he sees her.’
‘Yeah, well, that’s typical of men. They like to see women in sexy clothes, as long as it isn’t their wife who’s wearing them.’
Sally chuckled, ‘Yes, you may be right.’
As she waited for the kettle to boil a smile remained on Sally’s face. She felt so much better after talking to her gran about Arthur, and berated herself for her lack of understanding.
When Sally arrived home she was determined that no matter what sort of mood Arthur was in, she would keep smiling. What he needed was a cheerful environment to come home to, a haven where he could leave all thoughts of work and worry behind.
However, when Arthur walked in half an hour later his expression was thunderous, and even Angel was ignored as he spat, ‘Joe denied it, but it was you, wasn’t it? You who got him to suggest that I take some time off.’
‘I told him that you seem tired. I . . . I was worried about you.’
‘I am
not
tired,’ he yelled. ‘I’m a grown man, Sally, not a child and if I want time off I can speak for myself!’
‘Why are you shouting, Daddy?’ Angel cried, her eyes wide with fear.
Her voice must have penetrated Arthur’s anger, and the rigidness went out of his stance. ‘Sorry, sorry, pet,’ he murmured.
As Arthur sat down and urged Angel onto his lap, Sally slipped through to the kitchen, trying not to cry as she busied herself with finishing off their dinner. In her concern for Arthur she had put her foot in it again, and now she dreaded his mood for the rest of the evening.
Thankfully he made an effort to be amenable in front of Angel, and soon after she was tucked up in bed, Arthur’s parents paid them a visit.
‘How are you feeling, son?’
‘I’m fine, Mum.’
‘Sally, how about you all coming to us on Sunday for a nice roast dinner? In fact spend the day and stay for tea too.’
‘What do you think, Arthur?’
‘It’s fine with me.’
‘Good, and your dad will pick you up.’
‘Right, I’ve had my orders, and now tell me, Arthur, how is work progressing on the site?’ Bert asked.
‘It’s going well.’
Sally offered them a drink and as she went through to the kitchen to make it, Elsie followed her. ‘I was hoping to get here before Angel went to bed, but persuading Bert to get a move on is impossible. How is she?’
‘She’s fine and doing well at school.’
‘Does she still talk about the before time?’
‘Not recently.’
‘It was certainly unusual, but some eastern religions believe in reincarnation.’
‘I must admit it was like she was remembering a previous life, but it sounds so far-fetched.’
‘No more than heaven and hell, or angels and demons.’
‘When you put it that way, no, I suppose not.’
‘Who’s to know which teachings are right, Sally, and if you ask me, religion seems to be a matter of geography and nationality.’
Sally frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘If I had been born, say, in Tibet, I may have been brought up a Buddhist. In India, maybe a Hindu, but because I was born here and my parents were Christians, that’s the doctrine I was taught. If you ask me, as long as the religion you practise makes you a better person and gives you something to cling to in time of trouble, that’s all that matters.’
Sally nodded. ‘Yes, I agree, but it’s a shame that there’s so much intolerance.’
‘Oh, Sally, I do miss our chats. Bert thinks it’s all a load of tosh and I’ve given up talking to him about spiritual subjects. I used to love it when you visited me, or I you, but since you’ve had to look after Sadie, you’re so tied down.’
‘I know, but she can’t be left on her own.’
Elsie sighed and then said, ‘Changing the subject, I was doing the cards the other day and something strange came up. I saw your father in the spread.’
‘Oh no! I hope he doesn’t turn up again after all these years.’
‘I don’t know, Sally. I’m afraid the cards weren’t clear on that.’
Sally continued to make the drinks, her mind racing. She didn’t want Ken Marchant to show his face again, in fact she hated the thought. Not only that – what sort of effect would it have on her mother?
* * *
‘Tommy, run down to the off-licence and get me a bottle of cider.’
‘What for?’ he asked, scowling at his mother. ‘You’re already pissed.’
‘You little sod,’ she slurred, rising unsteadily to her feet.
As she walked towards him, her hand ready to strike, Tommy backed away. Why? Why had she turned to booze again? He’d been good, had kept out of mischief, and with his dad gone, he’d tried to look after her. She’d been fine for a while and he’d loved the affection showered on him, loved how with his help she had kept the house clean. Now it was a mess again, a dump, a stinking, smelly, dump.
His mum was almost on top of him now, but Tommy turned and fled, the street door slamming behind him as he ran down Candle Lane. With his mother in a drunken temper, Tommy knew he would have to keep out of her way and so he began to wander aimlessly. He’d had no dinner and was hungry, but with the shops closed there was no chance of nicking anything. Kicking a stone, he continued to amble, until finally he’d walked a full circle and was back in Candle Lane. The lights were still on in his house, but Tommy knew that if he went in now he was sure to get a belting.
With his stomach growling, Tommy bit hard on his lower lip as tears welled in his eyes. He was a boy and mustn’t cry. Big boys don’t cry, his dad had always told him. He wondered where his father was, and why he’d buggered off. Tommy choked back a sob. Had he caused that too just as he had caused his mother to start drinking again?
He looked with longing at Ruth’s door, and, though his mother had warned him to stay away from her, Tommy rattled the letterbox.
The door was opened, the smile of welcome warm. ‘Come in, love, and don’t tell me, I can guess. Your mum’s been boozing again.’
Tommy nodded and nestled into Ruth’s arms. ‘I expect you’re hungry,’ she said.
He nodded and, despite all his efforts to stem them, tears flowed. Ruth might not be his real gran, but he had come to love her, along with seeing her home as his refuge.
On a Saturday evening towards the end of March, Joe rang Patsy’s doorbell, dreading the conversation he was about to have with her and just wanting to get it over with. He’d taken her out a good few times now, along with joining Joe and Sally for dinner, but there was something about Patsy that he didn’t like. Something false. When he’d first met her she had seemed sweet and innocent, but it hadn’t taken him long to decide that it was all an act, a veneer covering a hard centre. She was too pushy, too eager to take the relationship further, and lately much too interested in his finances.
‘Well, well, Joe. This is a surprise. I haven’t heard from, or seen you since Monday and I was beginning to think you’ve been avoiding me.’
Patsy was Sally’s friend and it could make things awkward, but nevertheless he wanted to nip this in the bud before it went any further. After a moment’s hesitation, he decided that honesty would be the best policy and said, ‘I’ve been busy, and to be honest, I don’t want to get into anything serious at the moment.’
Her eyes hardened. ‘So, why did you ask me out?’
‘That’s just it, Patsy. It was just meant to be casual, nothing serious, but after a couple of dates you started getting proprietary. I’m not ready for that.’
‘Bugger off then. There’s plenty more fish in the sea and I know of one just waiting to be caught.’
Joe was pleased to go and hurried downstairs, happy to drive off. From Patsy’s reaction it was obvious he hadn’t broken her heart. In fact it sounded like she already had her eye on someone else.
Unaware of what had just transpired upstairs, Sally did her best to be cheerful. She had kept up this facade since talking to her gran, but it hadn’t made any difference. The atmosphere at home was still strained, but at least they still managed to act normally around Angel, and Sally was consoled that at least her daughter was happy.
When Patsy rang the doorbell, Sally could see by the expression on her face that something was wrong. She urged her in, and as Patsy flopped onto a chair, she said, ‘Joe has just been round. He said he doesn’t want to see me any more.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Sally said, moving forward to lay a conciliatory hand on Patsy’s shoulder. She looked so miserable and Sally’s heart went out to her. ‘Would you like something to drink?’
‘Yes, please, a coffee would be nice,’ she said, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.
It didn’t take Sally long to make Patsy a drink and she returned to the living room where her eyes widened with surprise. In the short time she’d been in the kitchen Patsy had recovered, no longer looking sad as she sat relaxed and laughing at something Arthur had said.
‘Oh, you are funny,’ Patsy sputtered. ‘It’s good that you can joke about your leg. And when do you get your artificial one?’
‘I’ve had two fittings now and I’m going to Roehampton to collect it on Monday morning.’
‘One of my clients has a false leg, but you can hardly tell. He barely limps at all, but he’s quite elderly and uses a stick.’
‘One of your clients? Somehow I can’t imagine you cutting an old man’s hair.’
Patsy flushed. ‘I do his wife’s hair and one day he asked me to cut his.’
Arthur nodded and then said, ‘I’m determined to walk without a stick.’
‘Good for you,’ Patsy said, uncrossing her own legs and reaching out to pick up her coffee.
At nine-thirty, Patsy still hadn’t left. She laughed and giggled with Arthur until Sally felt like screaming. His eyes continually strayed to Patsy’s legs, and in such a short skirt, there was a lot of them on show.
‘Bye, Arthur,’ Patsy said, with a cheeky wink when at last she rose to leave.
Sally managed to keep her feelings in check and said at the street door, ‘I’m sorry about you and Joe.’
‘Don’t worry about me, I’ll soon get over it, in fact, after this evening I already have.’
Sally was puzzled by her words, but soon forgot them when she returned to find Arthur struggling to his feet. It was before ten, yet he was going to bed. Impulsively she said, ‘Arthur, please, I know that something is wrong. Won’t you stay up for a while to talk about it?’
‘I’m not in the mood for talking,’ he said curtly.
With that he turned and hobbled away leaving Sally staring at his retreating figure.
When Sally awoke the next morning, she found the bed empty beside her. Surprised that Arthur was up at half past eight on a Sunday she threw on her dressing gown and went to the kitchen. Arthur was sitting at the kitchen table, deep in thought and seemed unaware of her presence. ‘Arthur, won’t you tell me what’s wrong?’
His face was taut. ‘Nothing’s wrong.’
‘I can see you’re upset about something. Is it to do with the site?’
‘No, it isn’t, in fact it’s closer to home. I was just sitting here thinking that unlike you, Patsy doesn’t see me as less of a man.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
His face suddenly reddened with anger and he yelled, ‘If you don’t bloody know, then I’m not about to tell you.’
‘Daddy, why are you shouting again?’ Angel cried.
Neither of them had noticed that she had come into the room and, after a brief, shocked silence, Arthur held out his arms. ‘Take no notice of me, princess. I must have got out of bed on the wrong side this morning. Come on, give me a hug and that will make me feel better.’
She scrambled onto his lap, saying, ‘Are you cross with Mummy?’
‘No, of course not. Now then, we’re going to see Nanny Elsie today, and as your granddad is coming to collect us in an hour, I think we should get ready, starting with breakfast.’
Angel nodded and Sally began to make toast, her mind on Arthur’s comment. He’d said that Patsy didn’t see him as less than a man, but what did he mean by that?
‘Can I wear my bestest dress, Mummy?’
‘Yes, all right,’ Sally said, hurrying to get her daughter bathed and ready after breakfast.
Alone in the bathroom, Angel said, ‘Daddy said he isn’t cross with you, but he is, Mummy. He isn’t nice to you.’
‘He’s just tired, darling,’ Sally said.
‘But he shouts at you and . . . and it makes you sad.’
Oh no, Sally thought, upset that Angel had seen through the facade. Her own childhood memories were of rows, yelling, and she didn’t want her daughter affected in the same way. At least today would be a happy one, full of laughter at Elsie’s, and she found herself looking forward to it. In fact, though it was hard to admit, Sally found that nowadays she’d rather spend the day with anyone other than Arthur.