A Daughter's Disgrace Read online

  It was growing colder by the minute so she quickly rang the bell. Thankfully it wasn’t long before Fred was opening the door, beaming as he said, ‘Come inside, come inside. It’s blowing a right gale out there.’

  Cora followed him up the stairs and was led along to Alison’s room. Her daughter was sitting up in bed, propped up by pillows, and a cot was in the corner. Cora looked around in astonishment, taking in the fresh paint, new curtains and counterpane. ‘Blimey. You done all right for yourself here,’ she breathed. ‘Got you set up in a palace, ain’t he? No wonder you couldn’t wait to marry him.’

  Alison raised her eyebrows. Typical. Her mother hadn’t even asked how she was, while conveniently forgetting what the truth had been. ‘He’s over there,’ she said, nodding towards the cot. ‘Pick him up if you want.’

  Cora set down her parcel at the foot of the bed and made her way over to inspect her grandson. She couldn’t see much of him – he was bundled up in a knitted jacket and white wool cap, and she could just make out his pink nose. Carefully she reached down for him. He barely stirred.

  ‘Well behaved, I’ll say that for him.’ She pulled the little cap back and took in his face. ‘Doesn’t look much like you, does he? That’s probably a good thing. But what a shame he’s got that bad blood in him.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Alison. ‘Is that all you’ve got to say? Because I don’t really need reminding.’

  Fred bustled in at that point, bearing a tray with cups of tea and a plate of cake. ‘Here you are, Cora, something to warm you up after your cold walk. And one for you too, Alison. What do you reckon, Cora? Isn’t he a good baby?’

  Cora gazed at her grandson and felt a little tug. This was her blood too, no matter how he’d been conceived. It wasn’t really his fault. Despite herself, she couldn’t help a rush of excitement. This was a new life after all, and it looked as if he’d be brought up in comfort. She stroked his cheek, as much as she could see of it.

  Alison was amazed. Her mother had shown more tenderness to her new grandson in two minutes than she had done for her own daughter’s entire life. But she wasn’t going to protest. If Cora approved of the baby, in spite of his bloodline, then life would be much easier. ‘He’s called David,’ she said.

  ‘David?’ Cora looked up sharply. ‘We don’t know any Davids, do we?’

  ‘It’s my favourite boy’s name,’ Fred explained. ‘We didn’t want to name him after anyone. This is a new start for all of us.’ He waited to see if Cora would react.

  ‘Well, it’s your choice,’ she said as she gently lifted the baby. ‘At least it isn’t too new-fangled. I don’t approve of them made-up names. David. Yes, he looks like a David.’ She turned to her daughter. ‘Shall I pass him to you?’

  ‘No, no,’ Alison said quickly, ‘I’m still too tired. I hold him all the time when he feeds. Put him back in his cot.’

  ‘I’ll have him.’ Fred reached for the little bundle. ‘I’m getting the hang of this, holding the baby and eating cake at the same time.’ He grinned broadly, settling himself in the chair at the end of the bed. David slept on oblivious as Fred helped himself to a slice.

  ‘Oh, I nearly forgot.’ Cora picked up the parcel and handed it to Alison. ‘This is from me and the other thing inside the paper bag is from Jill. She made it herself.’

  Alison felt a lump in the back of her throat. So not everyone on Ennis Street hated her. Jill had every reason to shun her after she’d torn the bridesmaid’s dress, but she’d put herself out to make this little padded coat. It was beautifully sewn, with tiny cuffs and a double row of buttons, all in a soft pastel lemon. ‘It’s lovely,’ she breathed. ‘Do thank her from me. When I’m up and about I’ll come to see her myself. It’s perfect.’ She had to stop herself from crying.

  ‘What, don’t you like the romper suit, then?’ Cora was onto her like a shot, taking offence at the least excuse. To think she’d gone all the way to the market specially, when she could have gone straight home to put her feet up – it was sheer ingratitude.

  Fred stepped in. ‘They’re both lovely,’ he assured her. ‘You’re very kind to have brought it. It’ll be very useful. We didn’t get much beforehand, as it would have been bad luck, so this is just what we need.’ He could tell the little suit had come from the market as some of the stitching was already coming undone and there was a button missing but he knew Cora didn’t have two spare pennies to rub together, and had no intention of finding fault. ‘We’re very lucky, aren’t we, Alison?’

  Alison nodded, but she was already drifting off to sleep. Try as she might she could not keep her eyes open. Fred noticed and got to his feet. ‘Tell you what, Cora, why don’t we put this little fellow back down again and then I’ll give you a tour of the flat. Would you like that?’

  Cora’s eyes lit up. This would give her something to talk about in the shop tomorrow. ‘If it’s not too much, Fred,’ she said. ‘I can see you’ve got a lot on your hands.’

  ‘My pleasure.’ Fred carefully set David in his cot once more and straightened up. ‘Follow me.’

  Cora couldn’t believe it. As she headed back along Falcon Road, she shook her head. Fancy Fred having a flat like that, done up so modern. It was hard to credit. Even more so to think her gormless daughter was sharing it. The girl really had fallen on her feet. The place was huge – she’d never have guessed it from the street, but it went back a long way and there were rooms on the top floor she hadn’t known about. Four bedrooms! For one couple and a small baby. And two indoor bathrooms. As for that kitchen with all its up-to-the-minute gadgets – she’d hardly known where to look. She had never seen anything like it.

  Part of her couldn’t help thinking how different life would have been if she’d had somewhere like that to raise her own family. There would have been none of the fighting between the girls forced to share cramped bedrooms, competing for space for their shabby clothes and the few toys they’d had. Then she shook herself. No point in thinking like that. What was done was done. The important thing now was to make sure everyone knew that her daughter had made a good marriage and was living in the lap of luxury. Fred Chapman might be short and balding but he knew how to do out a home all right.

  As for the baby … She’d been determined not to feel anything for it, as it carried the blood of the Lanning family, but somehow he had touched her heart. She’d almost forgotten what that felt like but when she’d held him, so tiny and helpless, she couldn’t turn off her emotions. Well, he’d want for nothing. She’d never seen a man so prepared to look after a baby as Fred, who seemed to know everything about it. There would be no lack of new clothes and toys for this little boy. He’d be spoilt rotten. Cora sighed. She hadn’t wanted to feel the slightest bit of love for him – and yet she couldn’t help it. When all was said and done he was after all her grandson.

  ‘So my useless sister’s had her baby.’ Hazel stormed around the kitchen, slamming cupboard doors. ‘A boy. Mum’s gone round there now. Who’d have thought it, she goes and gets herself pregnant, pops out a boy and Mum suddenly can’t stay away.’

  ‘Well, she’s bound to want to see him,’ Neville pointed out. He couldn’t understand why Hazel thought it was odd. ‘My mum was pleased as punch with the news. She had a little coat all made up for when he arrived.’

  This made Hazel angrier than ever. ‘Did she now? All ready and waiting?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Well, it’s just as well Alison’s produced a baby because it doesn’t look as if your mum’ll have a grandchild of her own any time soon, does it? Not with the way we’ve been going. No, even my ugly sister can have a baby but there’s not much chance of me having one. Not if you can’t do the business.’

  Neville shifted uncomfortably. ‘Now look here, Hazel …’ He felt ashamed. He knew he deserved all the blame she heaped on him but now he’d begun to realise just how angry she could get and how long that anger lasted.

  ‘Look at what? There’s nothing to look at. That’s the bleeding trouble.’

&n
bsp; Neville quickly changed the subject and, hoping to pacify her, he said, ‘I’m going to do overtime tomorrow. I’ll be working all night on the late shift.’

  There was a moment of stunned silence, then Hazel’s eyes blazed. ‘All night!’ she yelled. ‘You can’t satisfy me in bed, so rather than try you’re going to work night shifts!’

  ‘No, that’s not why I’m doing it,’ Neville told her. ‘You keep on about wanting new furniture so I thought it would boost our savings. I’m not doing it to keep away from you …’

  ‘I should bleeding well hope not!’ Hazel slammed her hands against the table. ‘We’ve only been married three months; it’d be a sad thing if you was trying to avoid me already. What made you say that though? Is that what you really think? Is that what your mates at the factory think?’

  ‘Of course not …’

  ‘Cos if they do you can tell them to mind their own bleeding business. Small-minded interfering busybodies that they are.’

  ‘Hang on, Hazel, they’re my friends …’

  ‘Friends who think you should spend more time down the pub with them and less at home with me. Some friends.’

  ‘I’m only doing it for the money …’

  ‘And what am I meant to do while you’re away all night? Tell me that, will you? I can’t even go round to Mum as she’s off seeing that new bloody baby …’

  ‘Well, I wasn’t to know your sister was going to have it now, was I?’

  ‘Of course not, Neville. As far as we’re all meant to believe, the baby’s come early, months early, in fact.’ Hazel spoke to him as if he were a child. ‘But at least it’s come. So she’s managed to do something I’ll never be able to. Hasn’t she?’ She advanced towards him. ‘Hasn’t she?’

  ‘Now, Hazel, don’t be like that …’

  Neville didn’t finish his sentence because Hazel suddenly raised her right hand and hit him hard across the face. She stood there as if willing him to react, then ran towards the bedroom, screaming in frustration.

  Neville stayed where he was, lifting his hand to gently touch his cheek. At least it wasn’t on top of the first bruise, which had faded considerably anyway. How was he going to explain this? He had to be back at work in under an hour. Slowly he made his way to the kitchen sink and ran the cold water, splashing it onto his aching face. It was all his fault; he was no good in bed. The harder he tried the worse it got. He couldn’t blame Hazel. This was no more than he deserved. He had to stand back and put up with it because she was justified – he wasn’t a real man. But how was he going to explain this to his mates?

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Terry swung open the gate of their new house. It was dark already, but the curtains were still open and he could see the Christmas tree that Linda had insisted they put in the front window. She had made streamers from red and green crêpe paper and she and June had decorated the tree with them, along with some shiny baubles they’d bought in town. He should be full of Christmas spirit just looking at it.

  He hesitated before getting out his keys. What should he tell his wife about the conversation he’d just had? He didn’t know what to make of it himself. On one level it was no different to how he’d been approached before – a quiet suggestion, the promise of good rewards if he was prepared to bend the law. Yet he could sense there was more urgency this time, combined with a threat.

  He’d made it clear for months that he was no longer interested but now they were after him again. He wasn’t sure why. There had been a rumour that another member of the team had recently disappeared. Terry had no way of knowing whether that meant they’d moved house, done a runner for a completely different reason or if it was more sinister. Nobody knew the names of who else was involved; it was safer that way. He didn’t even know how many others were working for them. You just had the one contact and that was it. He knew only Vincent. That meant he couldn’t check out the background or risks he might face if he turned them down again. It had been all smiles to begin with but it hadn’t gone down well when he’d tried to sever his connection with the shady business. Should he go ahead anyway, knowing it would comfortably pay for Christmas? Or should he discuss it with Linda, as it would be much worse if she found out he’d agreed to something behind her back?

  Before he could open the door Linda flung it back, smiling from ear to ear. ‘Thought I heard someone on the front step. Come in and see what June’s made.’ She bent towards him and he hugged her, giving her a big kiss on the cheek.

  ‘God, you’re freezing,’ she said. ‘Get in beside the fire right now. June, Daddy’s home. Where’s your angel? He wants to see it.’

  Terry threw his coat over the banister and followed Linda into the warm kitchen, where the gas fire was blazing. June stood beside it, a cardboard cone in her arms. It had a ping-pong ball glued to the top on which Linda had drawn a face. ‘It’s my angel,’ she said seriously. ‘It’s going to go on top of the tree. Do you like it?’

  Terry crouched down to her level and solemnly took it from her.

  ‘Mind out,’ she said. ‘I haven’t made her wings. She’s going to have white wings. Like a big bird.’

  ‘You’re very clever,’ he told her. ‘It’s going to be beautiful.’ He met Linda’s eyes and she raised her eyebrows, clearly wanting a moment alone with him.

  ‘Why don’t you take her into the front room and put her by the tree so she’s safe until we make her wings?’ she suggested. June took the angel and set off, holding it carefully in front of her. Linda quickly shut the door behind her.

  Her smile grew wider. ‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ she said, reaching for his hands and drawing him up to full height. ‘I’ve been to the doctor’s this afternoon.’

  At once Terry was alert. ‘And?’ He couldn’t keep the hope from his voice.

  ‘And …’ Linda was enjoying herself, drawing out the moment. ‘And … he says he thinks I’m having another baby. Really. At last, Terry. After all those false alarms.’

  He could hardly contain himself. ‘That’s marvellous, that’s bloody marvellous. Oh my God. I can’t believe it. Really? You are? Oh my God. That’s the best thing ever. Wait, shouldn’t you sit down and rest? How are you feeling?’

  Linda laughed. ‘Stop it, Terry. I’m fine, of course I’m fine. It’s early days yet.’ She winked at him. ‘You were right, it was that rug in front of Mum’s fire that did it. The timing fits. I bet that was it. And I haven’t even been sick, or anything yet. So don’t go treating me with kid gloves.’

  Terry drew her into his arms and hugged her tight. ‘My precious girl. I’m so happy. I can’t wait.’

  Linda shook her head. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to. It won’t be until early summer.’ She sighed. ‘I’m so glad we’ve got this house, Terry. Now we really can make the little room a nursery. And I won’t have to worry about you bringing home those boxes. I couldn’t stand all that again.’

  Terry made himself smile back. ‘It’ll be a lovely nursery,’ he said. ‘I’ll get the paint at the weekend and we can make a start on it.’

  He couldn’t mention the approach he’d just had. He couldn’t take that delight from her face, nor would he ever forgive himself if she lost this longed-for baby through worrying about his activities. For the time being, he’d have to keep the offer to himself and decide what to do without her knowing anything about it.

  ‘Oh, I nearly forgot.’ Linda shook her head, amazed the other major news had slipped her mind. ‘I got a letter from Mum. Alison’s had her baby. It’s a boy and they’re calling him David. How about that?’

  ‘Looks like your mum’s going to be pretty busy being a granny,’ Terry said. ‘Do you want to go up and see them?’

  ‘I thought we could all go,’ Linda suggested. ‘Then we could take up the Christmas presents. It’ll be lovely to have a little boy to buy things for, won’t it?’ She felt a little guilty at not being around to help her younger sister more, but knew there was a limit to what she could do from such a
distance – and her own news meant that all her attention was needed here, for her own family.

  Terry gazed adoringly into her eyes. ‘Maybe next Christmas we’ll have another little boy to buy things for,’ he whispered. ‘Or another girl. I don’t mind. As long as it’s born safe and well and you’re all right. That’s all I want in life.’

  ‘Oh, Terry.’ Linda gazed back at him. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.’

  Vera rushed down the road as soon as her shift finished, keen to get out of the freezing wind. She’d been on the go all day and her feet were aching. Now that it was nearly Christmas, the customers kept her busy from start to finish and her supervisor hadn’t allowed her to slack for a minute. She hadn’t even had time to go to the babywear department. She was determined to get something for Alison’s boy but hadn’t had a spare moment. At this rate the little fellow would be into toddler clothes before she managed to finally see him, she thought grimly.

  Her eyes were watering so badly from the wind that she nearly crashed into someone coming around the corner. ‘I’m so sorry … oh, it’s you.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘Blimey, Neville, what happened? Been in an accident, have you?’

  Neville had been huddling into the upturned collar of his coat with a cap pulled down as far as it would go but now he had to look up and his cover was blown. ‘No, it’s nothing,’ he said unconvincingly. ‘How you been, Vera? It’s been a while.’

  ‘Cooped up in there.’ She nodded back to the department store. ‘Everyone wants new togs for their Christmas parties and I’ve got to wait till the last one’s decided what she wants and what to go with it. I shouldn’t complain, it’s all good for business, but I’m worn out.’ She pulled a face. ‘How about you?’