Women on the Home Front (113 page)

‘You 'n' Chris had words?'

After a moment Grace nodded, blinking back tears that had started immediately to her eyes. ‘Had a row a while ago and things haven't been right since,' she croaked.

‘Will it patch up eventually?'

‘Don't know …' Grace admitted huskily. ‘He won't say much about it or tell me how he's feeling. I've said sorry …'

‘So what've you got to be sorry about?'

Grace fiddled with the handle on her cup. ‘I … I went for a drink with an old boyfriend and Chris found out.'

‘So, he's jealous, you mean. Does he need to be?'

‘No!' Grace insisted. ‘I only met Hugh because …' She tailed off. She didn't want Matilda to think her greedy and mercenary, and yet sometimes that's how she saw herself. She'd stupidly risked her happiness with Chris for money.

‘Yer mum told me once that you was going to get married before but your fiancé did the dirty on you. Same fellow, is it?' Matilda enquired.

Grace nodded. ‘He's a creep and Chris knows it 'cos I've told him all about Hugh. And I've explained why I met him that day. But he doesn't seem to want to believe the truth.' She raked her fingers through her fringe of fair hair before owning up, ‘I wanted to get some money to put towards our wedding savings.' Grace took a quick gulp of tea before elaborating. ‘When Hugh broke off our engagement I lost money I'd put down as deposits on the wedding. I admit I've felt resentful over it and would have liked it back. Then when Hugh started pestering me at work saying he felt guilty and wanted to pay back some of what I lost, I thought … why not? So I agreed to see him one dinnertime …' Her eyes narrowed. ‘But I should have known the swine was lying, as usual.'

‘More interested in getting cosy with you than clearing his conscience, was he?' Matilda cackled a laugh.

‘Exactly!' Grace sighed. ‘And Chris won't believe that's all it was.'

Matilda patted Grace's fingers curled on the tabletop. ‘If it's meant to work out, it'll work out. And if you want my opinion, I think it will 'cos Chris ain't a fool, and if he lets you slip through his fingers, that's what he'll be.' Matilda stood up and shook the kettle. ‘More tea?'

‘I'd best get back,' Grace said huskily. She gathered up her bag and buttoned her coat.

‘We're gonna have the time of our lives in a few months on Coronation Day, Grace … all of us …'

‘Thanks for tea … and everything.' Grace suddenly felt rather shy, and unsure whether it had been wise to disclose quite so much. She knew Chris wouldn't have told a soul about their personal troubles.

Matilda heard Grace clattering down her rickety stairs and went to the window, watching the young woman pulling up her collar against the cold before hurrying away. A sigh escaped Matilda's withered lips. Much as she felt like going after her great-nephew to talk some sense into him, she knew she wouldn't. If Chris was getting cold feet, and using Grace's old flame as an excuse to call off a wedding he was unsure about, that was his business. It would be better for everybody if he wriggled free now than went ahead and regretted getting married. No doubt his father would also want to impress that on him.

Later that evening, Grace could no longer contain her frustrations.‘I can't stand these silences between us. If you think you've made a mistake and want to call the engagement off, just say so.'

‘Has he contacted you again?'

‘No! I've told you no a thousand times, why won't you listen to me?' Grace cried in a muted voice. ‘I haven't seen Hugh Wilkins in weeks and weeks and I'm not expecting to.'

Chris drew out his cigarette pack and opened it, about to light another, despite him giving a sudden, hacking cough.

In exasperation Grace snatched at the carton and threw it into the back of the van. ‘And it's no use moaning you don't feel well and haven't any money when you're spending out every day on those and making yourself cough!' She covered her face with her hands, muttering bitterly through her fingers, ‘Sorry! It's up to you if you want to smoke fifty a day and waste money rather than save for a deposit on a house.'

Chris sank back into his seat, suppressing another tickle in his throat. ‘Perhaps we should have a proper break from each other, till I can …'

‘Till you can what?' Grace let her hands fall to her lap. Her eyes darted to him and instinctively she twisted the diamond ring on her finger. ‘Till you can trust me? Is that what you were about to say?'

‘No … I wasn't going to say that. I was going to say … till I can sort out the mess in my head.' He glanced at her, inwardly wincing at the hurt and confusion in her eyes, but he couldn't find the right words to comfort her while his thoughts were scrambled. He couldn't seem to control his anger or his jealousy. He wanted to track down Hugh Wilkins and properly ram his teeth down his throat this time. But it wasn't just his rival unsettling him. Thoughts of Pamela were constantly niggling at the back of his mind too. ‘It's not just about us, Grace, or that prick you were engaged to before. One minute I think I hate her and never want to see her again, the next I think I'll go over there so she can explain why she hated me so much.'

‘Your mother didn't
hate
you, Chris,' Grace said wearily. ‘If she had she wouldn't have tried to see you after your father took you away. She made a mistake, a dreadful mistake, and she's owned up to it. I wish I'd not interfered …' Her husky voice petered out before springing back to life. ‘It's my own fault. I kept on at you about seeing her. Everything was alright between us till you went to see your mother on Christmas Day and got to know her better.'

Chris gazed sombrely into the darkness. He knew he shouldn't keep sniping at Grace about her ex-fiancé when in his heart he understood more than jealousy was gnawing at his guts. He also knew it was best they stayed away from each other for a while or he risked destroying the finest thing that had ever come into his life. And he couldn't bear the thought of losing her.

‘The lads are going down Harringay Stadium at the end of the week. They've asked me if I want to go …'

‘Go. You deserve a night out. Go,' Grace said and forced a smile before she quickly got out of the van and went indoors.

‘That's O'Connor over there, ain't it?'

‘Where?' Billy plonked down his tankard and glanced about the room. He spotted the stocky middle-aged Irishman at a table, guffawing with two of his work colleagues, and a couple of brassy-looking women. ‘Oi, Chris, that bastard O'Connor's over there.' Billy nudged Chris in the ribs.

Chris had been lounging against the bar, talking to Vic about the odds-on favourite in the next race. Now he straightened and turned immediately in the direction Billy and Ted were jerking their heads. He stared intently at the Irishman; O'Connor looked different done up to the nines in his shiny suit, with his hair, usually a wild black frizz, sleeked down flat. Chris felt his back teeth grind together. No doubt the thieving pikey was having a good time spending Kieran Murphy's money on booze and bets. He could feel his temper rising and on impulse he pushed away from his support. Weaving between tables, he strolled over.

Declan O'Connor noticed him approaching and his laughing expression froze in recognition. A moment later he'd pushed himself upright and jutted his chin belligerently.

‘What is it you want, Sonny Jim?' he snarled in an undertone.

‘Kieran Murphy's wages. I told him if I bumped into you I'd collect 'em for him.'

O'Connor hadn't been expecting to hear that and he blinked, taken aback. His tongue slithered over his fleshy red lips, aware that the others seated about his table were gawping, awaiting his response.

‘Don't know what you're talking about, Sonny Jim, so why don't you run along back to yer little pals.' He flicked some thick fingers, gesturing for Chris to go away.

‘Yeah, I will … with Kieran's wages in me pocket.' Chris stuck out a hand, aware that Vic and Ted and Billy had stopped observing from yards away and now come to join him. They stood in a semi-circle behind his back. He knew that because the men in O'Connor's group had got to their feet and were looking over his shoulder in anticipation of a fight starting.

‘Come on, don't need to be no trouble,' Chris jibed softly. ‘Just do the decent thing fer once and give it here.' His fingers beckoned impatiently but he felt the pent-up anger and frustration that had been bubbling in his guts since Christmas Day calming down. Obliquely, he understood that getting Kieran his money wouldn't set everything straight, but it would be a step in the right direction.

‘Fook off,' O'Connor spat through his teeth. ‘Oi don't know what you're talking about.' He half-sank back into his seat.

‘Think you do.' Chris took a step closer. ‘Now why don't yer be a big man and hand over what you owe, 'cos if yer don't these ladies are gonna twig they're on a hiding to nuthin' come the end of the night.' He glanced at the fat blonde. ‘He ain't gonna pay you, luv. Want to join us instead?'

‘I told you once before you're a dead man, Sonny Jim …' O'Connor's lips flattened against his teeth and he suddenly crashed around the table making the women shriek and his two comrades spring into action.

‘Deirdre's gonna go mental soon as she cops a look at the state of me.' Despite his comment, Vic started chuckling and dusting down his torn jacket with a hand.

Ted and Billy were also trying to neaten their rumpled clothes while guffawing.

‘You got us fuckin' barred from a dog track, Chris,' Ted complained with a smile. ‘Can't believe it …'

‘Done you a favour then, ain't I? Money you was losing down there every week, you could do with a break.' Chris grinned behind the fag in his mouth.

They were walking back towards where their vehicles were parked, having got thrown out of the stadium for brawling. The Irish crew had been ejected too but had sensibly taken off in the opposite direction, having received a drubbing before the bouncers raced to intervene.

Chris had managed to get a tenner out of O'Connor's pocket before he'd removed his knee from his windpipe and let him up off the floor. Before he headed home he was going to Whadcoat Street to give it to Kieran just in case he was in desperate need of it. Old Smithie in the shop could always be knocked up for emergency supplies. If the old miser got a sniff of a tenner in the offing, he'd probably deliver the stuff personally.

‘Give us a lift back, will yer, Chris?' Vic asked.

‘You'd be better off jumping in with Bill, he's going your way.'

‘Ain't goin' home, it's too early,' Vic said. ‘Gonna go round a mate's, see if they want a drink,' he mumbled.

‘I'll come fer a drink with you,' Ted offered. He wasn't keen on heading home early either. He knew he'd only finish the night stuck on the sofa between his warring parents, listening to the wireless. Besides, after the evening's events they'd got a good tale to tell in the pub.

‘Nah …' s'alright …' Vic discouraged him quickly. When Ted looked huffy he added shortly, ‘Ain't that sort of mate.'

‘You're gonna get yerself hung, Vic, you keep on,' Billy warned with a laugh. ‘Deirdre's old man finds out you're still playing away even though she's up the duff, he'll have yer guts fer garters.'

‘No need fer anyone to find out if you all keep yer mouths shut.' Vic sounded peevish. He knew that his bit on the side wouldn't give him earache about the state he looked. He could feel a lump coming up on one of his cheekbones and taste blood on his lip. Sandra would be happy enough to see him so long as he had a bottle of gin to offer her, and he'd be glad to see her because the night's excitement had got him aroused and he knew his pregnant wife wasn't going to be any help there. She never was lately …

‘What's happened? Has there been bad trouble?'

Kieran had answered the door in his pants and vest then whipped outside onto the landing and stood shivering and staring at the bruising on Chris's face.

Absently Chris touched the swelling by his eye. He knew it'd be black by tomorrow.

‘Nah … nothing much. Just run into O'Connor when I was out with the lads tonight.' He fished in a pocket and drew out the banknote. ‘He gave me this for you … yer wages.'

Kieran stared at the money as though it were a mirage. He made to take it then quickly withdrew his fingers.

‘Take it. Won't be no trouble, promise. He owes you it, he knows that.'

‘You had a fight with that divil to get this for me and Noreen?' Kieran raised astonished eyes to Chris's face.

‘Would have had a fight anyhow,' Chris ruefully admitted. ‘Just the mood I was in.' He took one of Kieran's hands and slapped the tenner in it. ‘Better get inside. You look bleedin' freezing standing out here …'

‘What's going on?' Noreen, with an old coat over her nightdress, had joined her husband at the door.

‘Christopher has brought us this … from O'Connor …'

Aware that he was in for another round of questions Chris backed away a few steps. He just wanted to get home. He felt exhausted. ‘Right, I'll let you two get back to bed, then.' He started along the landing just as a baby's wail was heard. ‘Sorry …' He pivoted about, gesturing he hadn't meant to disturb them all.

‘Thank you,' Kieran called and took a few paces after him.

‘Can I get you something? A cup of tea before you go?' Noreen blurted.

‘No, thanks … gotta get off …'

Chris turned quickly and clattered down the stairs. He was walking swiftly towards his van when he spotted his aunt coming towards him in the gloom, looking a bit unsteady on her feet.