Mother’s Ruin Page 4

  Arthur was thinking about Tommy Walters as he drove to see the premises. He knew the boy could be a menace, but he couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. The lad looked undernourished, his thin legs like sticks, but despite his obvious lack of parental care Tommy’s cheeky grin was never far away.

  An hour later, Arthur and his father, finding the yard to their liking, decided to go ahead with the deal. When they parted, Arthur drove to the pub to meet his old friend, Joe. He parked, walked into the bar and grinned at the man sitting just inside the door.

  ‘Hello, stranger,’ Joe said.

  Arthur was chuffed to see him again. He and Joe had hit it off from the start and had become close mates as they travelled around Australia. ‘It’s great to see you, Joe.’

  ‘And you, mate.’

  ‘What are you drinking?’

  ‘I’ll have another pint of bitter.’

  Arthur got the drinks in and then sat beside Joe, smiling. ‘You could have knocked me down with a feather when you got in touch. How on earth did you know my mother’s address?’

  ‘You were down in the dumps in Australia, but wouldn’t tell me what the problem was. I wanted to help, and though I know it was out of order, I read your mum’s letter.’

  Arthur was surprised, but he had a lot to thank Joe for and found that he wasn’t annoyed. He had liked Australia, but after reading that Sally was pregnant he’d been desperate to get back to England. He didn’t have enough money for the fare, but Joe had stepped in. ‘By the time I’d found the money you’d slipped in my wallet, you’d gone. I wanted to pay you back, but I had no way of contacting you. Until now of course and I’m glad that I can return it at last.’

  ‘It wasn’t a loan. I gave it to you.’

  ‘I’d still prefer to pay you back. How long are you here for?’

  ‘For good, but I’m not sure if I’ve made the right decision. I came home because my mother was taken ill and apparently pining for me. She’s on the mend now while I’m finding it freezing. I’d forgotten how awful the weather can be.’

  ‘It’s early September and mild,’ Arthur protested.

  ‘Mild! You must be kidding,’ Joe said as he clutched his coat closer to his body. ‘What have you been up to since leaving Australia?’

  ‘I’m a partner in my father’s furniture removals business.’

  ‘Sounds good, and what about the girl you couldn’t wait to get home to?’

  ‘I married her and we have a five-year-old daughter.’

  ‘That’s great. I’m glad it worked out for you.’

  ‘What about you, Joe? Now that you’re back, are you working on your father’s farm?’

  ‘No, nothing has changed and we still don’t get on. I’ve got plans for starting something up but it’s only in the early stages.’

  ‘Such as what?’

  ‘There’s no point in going into it now, but if it’s viable financially and I can get it up and running, I’ll tell you about it.’

  ‘Sorry, mate, I didn’t mean to sound nosy.’

  ‘It’s not that, Arthur, it’s just sort of all pie in the sky at the moment.’

  ‘Fair enough, but where are you living? Are you staying with your parents?’

  ‘As I didn’t fancy being in the sticks, I’ve found myself a little flat in Earls Court, though I pop home most weekends to see my mother.’

  Time passed quickly as they began to reminisce, laughing as they remembered the things they had got up to on their travels. Then of course the subject of football came up and Arthur went into great detail about England winning the World Cup. The choice of players came under review, their position on the field and the choice of goalkeeper.

  Arthur lifted his pint of bitter and took a long swig before saying with a grin, ‘With Gordon Banks we had the best goal- keeper in the world. I can remember watching a match when a dog invaded the pitch. Banks showed his all-round skills by catching the dog with a flying tackle. You should have heard the cheers.’

  ‘It was great that England won, but rugby’s more my game.’

  ‘I don’t mind watching a bit of it now and then, but the rules do my head in.’

  ‘What don’t you understand?’

  ‘Well, the offside law for one.’

  Joe launched into an explanation which Arthur did his best to follow, and then finishing his pint he ordered another round. They downed them, still talking sport until Joe said, ‘Sorry, mate, I’ve got to go now, but can we meet up again?’

  ‘Of course. And anyway as I said, I owe you some money.’

  Joe still protested, but Arthur was determined to pay what he saw as a debt and they arranged to meet up the following week.

  Arthur was a little tipsy as he made his way home. Joe sounded like he had big plans for starting up a business and Arthur found that he was envious. The man would make his own way in life and, unlike him, he wouldn’t be hanging on to his father’s coat tails.

  When had his dissatisfaction started, Arthur wondered. At first he’d enjoyed the removals game, enjoyed travelling around the country, but now he’d come to hate it. He might be a partner, but his father was the boss and made that plain, almost as if he was frightened that his son would usurp his position.

  All Arthur could see was years of doing the same thing, years of being no different from the other men his father employed. He was still just a driver, a humper, with no responsibilities and no say in the running of the business. Arthur continued his journey home, finding that his good mood on seeing Joe again had evaporated.

  Sally was still awake, waiting for Arthur to come home, hoping he wouldn’t object to her taking up healing again. Her hopes were dashed.

  ‘I don’t like the idea, Sally. I know I’m often late home, but at least you’re here when I arrive. I don’t fancy being stuck with just your mum and gran while you’re at the hall.’

  ‘I’d be home just after ten.’

  ‘Why take up healing again? You’ve got enough to do with looking after your gran.’

  ‘I need a change, a chance to get out of the house and you’re too busy to take me anywhere. My days are spent looking after Angel and Gran.’

  ‘And you don’t seem to appreciate that I work all hours and hardly get any time off to take you out. Oh, poor Sally, stuck in front of the telly. What a hard life,’ Arthur drawled sarcastically.

  ‘I do appreciate how hard you work, but I’m twenty-three, not eighty-three and I feel as though life is passing me by. The swinging sixties! What do I ever see of the bloody swinging sixties? All I ever see is Candle Lane and the local shops.’

  ‘Don’t swear, Sally. It doesn’t become you.’

  ‘Do you know what, Arthur? You sound pompous and old before your time. When was the last time we had a bit of fun? Tell me that. I’m fed up, bored, and not only that, when was the last time you made love to me?’

  As soon as those words left her mouth, Sally flushed. Shame filled her and she lowered her eyes. Why had she spoken to Arthur like that? Yes, she felt frustrated, but suddenly realised that it wasn’t the only reason for feeling so low. For weeks now she’d been on tenterhooks, almost as if instinctively waiting for something awful to happen.

  ‘We have no privacy and I refuse to make love to you whilst my daughter is in the same room,’ Arthur retorted. ‘What if she woke up? After all, you aren’t exactly quiet, are you?’

  Sally coloured again. How could he throw that in her face? What was happening to them, to their marriage?

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Arthur said contritely. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. I was in a bad mood when I came in but I’ve shouldn’t have taken it out on you.’

  She saw how shamefaced he looked and flew into his arms. ‘I’m sorry too. It’s all right, I won’t take up healing again.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. You go to the spiritualist hall, and if I can get home early I promise I’ll take you dancing.’

  Arthur’s arms tightened around her and Sally pushed her body closer to hi
m. She felt his desire mounting too, hard against her, and, turning, she led him towards the bed.

  Angela was asleep, thumb in her mouth as always, and as Arthur’s eyes flicked towards her he said, ‘No, Sally. We can’t.’

  ‘Please, Arthur, I’ll be quiet. I promise,’ she begged, her frustration almost unbearable as she again pressed herself against him.

  His eyes became dark with passion and with a soft groan he unbuttoned her blouse, his eyes feasting on her breasts. In moments they fell on the bed, both now frantically pulling off their clothes and Sally groaned softly as Arthur’s lips found her nipple. It had been so long, so very long, and unable to wait she whispered urgently, ‘Please, darling. Please, take me.’

  As Arthur entered her, Sally arched her back, matching his passion and mindlessly forgetting her surrounding as he pounded into her. The frantic coupling was quick, Sally’s nails un consciously digging into her husband’s back. She was nearly there, almost on the point of release, her mouth wide as she screamed, ‘Yes, yes! Now, Arthur! Now!’

  At that very moment a small voice intruded, ‘What are you doing?’

  Sally frantically pushed Arthur off and they were left unspent, panting. She saw her husband’s eyes were wide with horror as he desperately tried to cover himself, but it was too late, Angela asking, ‘What’s that, Daddy?’

  ‘See what you’ve done,’ he growled, as at last he managed to pull the sheet over his rapidly diminishing erection.

  Sally scrambled off the bed, hastily wrapping the spread around her naked body. ‘It’s all right, darling. Come on now, go back to sleep,’ she urged.

  ‘You was screaming, Mummy. Was Daddy hurting you?’

  ‘Of course not, we were just playing, that’s all. Now be a good girl and go back to sleep.’

  ‘I want some milk.’

  ‘All right, Daddy will get you some,’ Sally said, her eyes holding an appeal as she looked at Arthur.

  He glowered at her, but as Sally blocked Angela’s view Arthur was able to pull on his dressing gown, tightening the belt angrily as he left the room.

  That was it! The thing Arthur dreaded had happened and he would never attempt lovemaking again while Angela slept in their room.

  How much longer could this situation go on? It was hell for both of them. As Angel drifted off to sleep again, Sally was left wondering and worrying about what the future held in store for them.

  Chapter Five

  Sally’s thoughts drifted whilst waiting for a client in the spiritualist hall. Angel’s first day at school had initially proved to be traumatic. She had refused to enter the building, clung desperately to Sally’s hand until Tommy Walters had come to the rescue.

  The boy had told Angela not to be a baby and Sally had been amazed when she went off with him without further protest. Tommy was dressed like a ragamuffin while Angel had been scrubbed and groomed to within an inch of her life, the two making an incongruous pair. It surprised Sally that Tommy had taken Angel under his wing, especially as the boy was two years older and she doubted it would do much for his credibility with the gang he ran with.

  Thankfully, since that day, Angel had gone to school without a murmur, which had been such a relief. However, despite his initial help, Sally still didn’t want her daughter mixing with Tommy, the boy an unsuitable playmate, and she continued to warn Angel to stay away from him.

  Now, as September drew to a close, Sally was in despair over her marriage. On their fifth wedding anniversary there had been flowers from Arthur, but no card and he hadn’t taken her out. She had pushed the disappointment away, told herself that Arthur was too busy, but he had begun to act strangely and she was sure he was hiding something.

  Worse, on occasions Arthur had gone out in the evenings with what sounded like feeble excuses and Sally wondered if he was seeing another woman. She felt nauseous at the thought, wondered if she should confront him, face him with it, but dreaded what she might hear. No, no, she was being silly. Arthur would never be unfaithful. It was living in Candle Lane that was the problem, but every time Sally thought about moving out, fear for her gran held her back. It was as though she could feel that something dreadful was looming on the horizon. Was her gran going to have another stroke?

  It helped to be out of the house for a couple of evenings a week and Sally now came to the hall to join three other healers, two of whom she already knew and liked. Yet even so her thoughts constantly turned to her gran and though her mother had promised to ring the hall immediately if she became ill again, Sally was unable to completely relax. It affected her healing powers and she had to pass a number of people to the other healers.

  A woman now approached Sally and, after inviting her to sit down, Sally gently questioned her to find out that she suffered from migraine attacks. Sally kept her voice soft, told the woman to relax and then stood behind the chair, lifting her eyes in silent prayer. Her hands hovered over the woman’s head as she tried to concentrate, opening the channel and allowing the healing energy to flow through her palms.

  Elsie, her mother-in-law, had been so patient when teaching her and Sally would always remember her first attempt at healing. After the session, which had eased her gran’s arthritic pain, she herself had been left feeling dreadfully tired. Elsie had explained that she must allow the energy to flow through her, not from her, and once Sally had mastered this technique her healing energies had flowed more naturally.

  As her hands continued to hover, Sally could feel the familiar tingle that radiated from her palms and closed her eyes in added concentration. It was quiet, the atmosphere peaceful and calm, but then the double doors swung open and Angel catapulted into the hall.

  ‘Mummy!’ she shouted as she ran full pelt across the wooden floor, then skidded to a halt in front of Sally. ‘Mummy, you’ve got to come! Gamma’s shouting and Nanny is crying.’

  Sally spoke urgently to her client, ‘I’m so sorry, I must deal with this. Do you mind if I pass you on to another healer?’

  The woman was smiling at Angel, an effect her daughter usually had on people the first time they saw her. ‘No, of course not, and your daughter looks adorable.’

  ‘Looks can be deceiving,’ Sally said ruefully seeing that Angel’s coat had been thrown over her nightclothes and she was wearing slippers on her feet. ‘Margaret,’ she called, ‘would you mind taking over for me?’

  The healer nodded, taking her place while Sally crouched down in front of her daughter. ‘Why aren’t you in bed? And who is Gamma shouting at?’

  ‘She’s shouting at the black man.’

  ‘What black man?’

  Placing her hands on her hips, her stance like that of a miniature adult, Angel sighed with exasperation, ‘The one wiv Auntie Mary of course.’

  Sally wondered what her aunt was doing with a black man, but at the moment she was more concerned that Angel had left the house on her own. ‘Does Nanny know you’ve come to the hall?’

  ‘No, I ran out before she saw me. Mummy, please come home. I’m frightened.’

  If Angel was frightened, the situation at home must be bad. Sally grabbed her daughter’s hand and called a hasty goodbye to the other healers before running from the hall.

  ‘Slow down, Mummy, pleeease,’ Angel cried, but Sally hardly heard her daughter’s protest as they almost skidded around the corner into Candle Lane, at the same time seeing the door to number five flying open. A man shot out as though propelled by a cannon, landing in a heap on the pavement.

  Mary came dashing out to solicitously help him to his feet and close behind came Sally’s gran, her voice raucous as she cried, ‘Get him away from here or there’ll be murder done!’

  ‘He’s got a name, Mother! It’s Leroy and I can’t believe you’re behaving like this!’

  ‘And I can’t believe that you’re going to marry him! He . . . he’s . . .’

  ‘Black! Yes, Leroy is black, but unlike my first husband, he’s a decent man.’

  ‘Why couldn’t you find a de
cent white man? It ain’t right, Mary, and if you go ahead with this I’ll wash my hands of you!’

  ‘Very well, Mother, if that’s how you feel there’s nothing more to say. Oh, except that I’m pregnant! Yes, that’s knocked the wind out of your sails, hasn’t it?’

  The neighbours were now on their doorsteps, obviously enjoying the spectacle, with only Nelly Cox looking at them sympathetically. Tommy Walters and three of his gang were watching too, their eyes bright with excitement.

  Sally pushed her way between her aunt and gran, hissing, ‘For goodness’ sake, do you want the whole street to know our business?’

  ‘They can’t bleedin’ miss it when she turns up with the likes of that!’

  ‘What do you mean that?’ Mary cried. ‘Leroy is a human being and as I said, a decent one.’

  ‘He’s a soddin’ nigger!’

  ‘Mother, don’t call him that!’

  ‘What’s a nigger, Gamma?’

  On hearing her great-granddaughter’s question, Sadie had the grace to look shamefaced. ‘Its not a nice word and I shouldn’t have said it. Take no notice of your Gamma.’

  Sally saw her mother hovering in the doorway and said, ‘Mum, didn’t you notice that Angel had left the house?’

  ‘No, love, and I’m sorry. Mind you, with all this going on it ain’t surprising that she was able to run off.’

  Sally then looked on in amazement as her impossible, yet sometimes sensitive daughter walked over to Leroy, and taking his hand, gently stroked it. ‘You’ve got a cut. Does it hurt?’

  ‘No, darlin’, it’s just a graze and I’se fine.’

  ‘Look, she’s touching a sooty,’ Tommy shouted. ‘I bet she catches something bad now.’

  ‘Shut up!’ Angel said, rounding on him.

  To Sally’s surprise the boy didn’t say anything more, but Angel did, looking up at Leroy to ask, ‘Why is your skin black?’

  ‘’Cos I comes from Jamaica.’

  ‘Where’s that?’

  ‘Angel, that’s enough. There’s no need to interrogate the man,’ Sally gently admonished.