Mother’s Ruin Read online

  There was no curt response, no argument and instead Mary looked at them with pain-filled eyes. It was Ruth who spoke now, asking worriedly, ‘Mary, what’s wrong?’

  She just continued to stand there, trembling, and worried too, Sally focused on her aunt. There were no dark patches in her aura, no signs of illness.

  ‘Mary, what’s wrong?’ Ruth asked.

  ‘I . . . I’m not pregnant.’

  ‘I told you that,’ Ruth said smugly.

  Sadie pursed her lips. ‘Does this mean you won’t be marrying that nigger?’

  ‘Please, Mother, please don’t call him that, but yes, it’s over and Leroy has gone.’

  With a smile of satisfaction Sadie said, ‘Good riddance to bad rubbish.’

  At last Mary reacted as she’d have done in the past, fire in her eyes as she glared at her mother. ‘Leroy is a wonderful man and I won’t have you calling him rubbish.’

  ‘If he’s so wonderful, how come he’s buggered off ?’

  ‘Because I told him to.’

  ‘But why?’ Sally blurted out.

  Mary crumbled again, her eyes flooding with tears, and jumping up she fled the room. Ruth was about to follow her, but Sally quickly said, ‘I’ll go, Mum.’

  ‘Yes, all right. You two were always as thick as thieves and no doubt she’d prefer to talk to you.’

  Sally found her aunt in the bathroom, perched on the edge of the bath, leaning forward with her arms wrapped around her waist and rocking as though in pain. She looked up at Sally, crying in anguish, ‘Oh, I’ve been such a fool.’

  ‘Why?’ Sally said softly, hoping to draw her aunt out.

  Her voice cracking with emotion, Mary said, ‘Since your uncle’s death, I’ve occasionally been out with men, but I’ve never been able to – to, be, err, intimate with them. Leroy changed all that and somehow he managed to break through my barriers. He was wonderful, but now I’ve had to send him away.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘No, of course you don’t, but you see when I thought I was having a baby, I almost burst with happiness.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Auntie. It must have been awful to miscarry,’ Sally said as she sat down next to her on the edge of the bath.

  ‘I didn’t miscarry. Your mother was right and I’ve been a stupid, stupid woman,’ Mary cried. ‘I’m eight years older than Leroy, but it didn’t seem to matter and like me he was thrilled when he thought I was pregnant. But I’ll never be pregnant, Sally. I’ll never be able to have a baby. It . . . it’s too late.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Instead of confirming my pregnancy the doctor told me that I’m going through the change of life. It was only then that I realised what an idiot I’d been.’

  Sally did a rapid calculation of her aunt’s age and realised that though she always took great care of her appearance, she was actually in her late forties. ‘It must have been awful for you, but I don’t understand why you sent Leroy away.’

  Mary took another deep breath as she again fought for composure. ‘Leroy couldn’t wait to have a family, so when I found out I wasn’t pregnant, how could I marry him? He needs to meet a young woman, not a dried-up old prune like me, one who can give him the children he wants.’

  ‘Did you tell him that?’

  ‘No, I just told him that the pregnancy was a false alarm and then went on to say that I didn’t want to marry him after all.’

  ‘If you had told him the truth, it might not have mattered.’

  ‘He may have stayed, but eventually Leroy would have grown to resent me.’

  ‘Oh, Auntie, I’m so sorry,’ Sally sighed.

  Visibly straightening, Mary managed a lopsided smile. ‘I was mad to come here expecting any sympathy from my mother. I’ll get over it given time, and for now it’s time to put on a brave front.’

  When they went downstairs, Mary’s assessment of her mother proved to be right when after telling her what had happened, the old lady said, ‘Yeah, well I hope you’ve learned your lesson now. In future I suggest you stick to your own kind.’

  ‘I guessed you’d say that,’ Mary commented, ‘and it’s best I leave now.’

  ‘You don’t have to rush off,’ Ruth protested.

  ‘I think it’s better to go before I say something that I might regret.’

  ‘Huh, if you’ve got something to say to me, let’s hear it.’

  ‘No, Mother. Some things are better left unsaid and anyway, knowing how you feel it would be a waste of time.’

  With that Mary marched out and Sally followed her, saying urgently, ‘She didn’t mean it, Aunt Mary. The stroke changed Gran, and she really can’t help being the way she is now.’

  ‘Oh Sally, I know, and I shouldn’t argue with her. It’s just that I came round hoping to see my old mum, the one who was wise and tolerant, the one I could always run to with my problems.’

  ‘She’s still in there somewhere.’

  A loud bang made Mary jump and with her hand on her heart she said, ‘Oh goodness, I hate the run-up to fireworks night. There are children everywhere, throwing bangers or asking for a penny for the guy. I don’t know why their parents allow it, after all it’s tantamount to begging.’

  Mary suddenly halted in her tirade, her face paling. ‘Listen to me, Sally. I’m complaining like an old woman, yet since finding out that I’m going through the change I feel like one. I feel as though I’ve aged overnight.’

  ‘You’re not old, Auntie.’

  ‘I’m past having children,’ she said sadly, leaning forward to give Sally a kiss on the cheek. ‘Bye, my dear.’

  Sally stood on the step as her aunt walked straight-backed down the lane. She didn’t look back, but Sally remained where she was until her aunt turned the corner. She then went back to the kitchen to hear her mum and gran talking about Mary, both pleased that she had broken up with Leroy, both forgetting the pain her aunt was in.

  For a moment Sally wondered if this was what her intuition had warned her about, her aunt’s unhappiness and pain. Yet even as the thought crossed her mind she dismissed it as a shiver ran down her spine.

  What was coming would be worse, much worse, and Sally’s heart filled with dread.

  Chapter Eight

  It was November fifth and Sally was outside with Angel, smiling as her daughter squealed with delight, a sparkler held in her gloved hand reflecting bright pinpoints of light onto her face. ‘Why can’t we have a bonfire, Mummy?’

  ‘We’ve only got the yard and it isn’t big enough.’

  ‘But Tommy’s having one. He’s got loads of stuff piled in his backyard.’

  Sally hardly listened, her eyes peeled for Arthur.

  As though in understanding, Angela said, ‘I wish Daddy was here.’

  ‘Me too,’ Sally murmured as her eyes continued to scan the lane. Arthur had promised to bring home some fireworks, and though there wouldn’t be a bonfire, they were going to set them off in the yard. The lane was smoky, and the occasional rocket could be seen as it whooshed up into the air to explode in a cascade of bright, twinkling lights.

  ‘Will Daddy be home soon?’

  ‘I hope so.’

  A group of small boys ran into the lane, one throwing a penny banger in their direction. Just as it exploded Sally grabbed Angel’s hand, pulling her daughter inside before she had time to protest.

  Angel ran into the kitchen, her tone wheedling. ‘Nanny, I want to go out again. You take me.’

  ‘Let’s wait for your daddy to come home,’ Ruth placated.

  Sally glanced at the clock. ‘Mum, I’m supposed to be standing in for one of the other healers at the hall.’

  ‘Get going then. This little madam will be fine with me.’

  ‘All right, but don’t give in to her. There are kids outside throwing bangers and I don’t want her hurt.’

  ‘Sally, I’ve been at work all day and the last thing I want is to stand outside. It’s always the same around here on fireworks night and las
t year a little bugger tied a jumping jack to a cat’s tail. The poor thing was terrified and it bolted down the lane with it going off behind him every few seconds.’

  ‘That was cruel,’ Sally said, wondering yet again where Arthur was. She leaned down to kiss her daughter. ‘I’ve got to go, darling. Be a good girl for Nanny.’

  Sally hurried down the lane, her brow furrowed. After that wonderful night when Angela had slept over at Elsie’s Arthur had soon become distant and distracted. Most evenings he still came home late and sometimes she could smell alcohol on his breath. When asked he just said he’d popped into a pub for a drink, but he failed to meet her eyes and Sally was sure he was hiding something. Was Arthur having an affair?

  The hall was almost empty, with only one healer working on a client when Sally walked in. Perhaps the smoke and fireworks had kept those needing healing indoors, Sally thought.

  By nine o’clock she’d only had one client, and, still worried about Arthur, Sally asked the other healers if they’d mind if she left early. The smoke was dense as she turned into Candle Lane and Sally coughed before tugging her scarf over her mouth. A fire engine drove past, heading away from the lane, but why had it been there in the first place?

  Sally’s pace quickened, the pavement wet under her feet now and as she hurried into the kitchen it was to find her mother cuddling a small, sobbing form. ‘What’s the matter with Angel?’ she cried.

  The small form unwound itself and Sally saw that it wasn’t her daughter. It was Tommy Walters, the boy’s face streaked with dirt and his eyes red. ‘Tommy burned his hand and as his mother wasn’t in a fit state to look after him, I fetched him in here to have a look at it,’ Ruth said. ‘It isn’t too bad but it’s giving him a bit of gyp.’

  ‘How did he burn his hand?’

  ‘The silly sod lit a bonfire in his backyard, but the flames were bigger than he anticipated. Blimey, Sal, you’ve missed all the excitement. Luckily for Tommy, Mrs Stone saw the blaze over her back wall and she called the fire brigade.’

  ‘But where were Tommy’s parents? Didn’t they see the fire?’

  ‘His dad wasn’t in, and his mum was in her front room with no idea what was going on,’ Ruth said, throwing a look at Tommy before mouthing silently, ‘Drunk.’

  The boy was too astute. ‘Yeah, me mum was pissed.’

  ‘That isn’t a nice word,’ Ruth told him, unable to hide a smile of amusement. ‘Sally, it’s just as well your gran’s in her room or I’d be getting it in both ears.’

  ‘Is Arthur upstairs?’

  ‘No, he didn’t turn up. Angel was disappointed and it was a right old job to get her off to bed.’

  ‘Is she asleep?’

  ‘I haven’t heard a peep out of her, so yes, I should think so.’

  ‘I’ll go and check,’ Sally said, turning to hurry upstairs. There was no sign of Angel when she walked into the bedroom, both the double and single beds empty. ‘Angela, where are you?’

  There was a muffled cry and then the wardrobe door flew open. Her daughter came tumbling out and buried herself in Sally’s arms. ‘Mummy, Mummy, there was a fire and Tommy got burned!’

  ‘I know, but it’s only a small burn on his hand and he’s fine now.’

  ‘No, Mummy! I saw his bonfire from the window and it got really big. Tommy was on top of it and . . . and he fell in,’ Angela sobbed.

  ‘Of course he didn’t.’

  ‘He did! He got all burned up,’ she insisted, her voice verging on hysteria.

  ‘Come on, darling. Come with me,’ Sally said, disengaging her daughter’s arms to take her hand.

  They went downstairs, Angel’s eyes rounding with surprise when she saw Tommy sitting on the sofa. ‘I . . . I thought you fell in the fire.’

  ‘Of course I didn’t, but look at me hand,’ Tommy said, holding it out like a trophy.

  ‘But . . . but you was on top of the bonfire and . . .’

  ‘Nah, you silly sod. It was a guy that I dressed in me old clothes. You can’t have a bonfire without a guy on top.’

  ‘Mum, I found Angel in the wardrobe,’ Sally admonished, ‘and she was very upset.’

  ‘I thought she was asleep,’ Ruth said, flushing with guilt. She then turned to Tommy. ‘Come on, lad, I think it’s time you went home.’

  ‘But what about me hand?’

  ‘It isn’t a bad burn and doesn’t even need a bandage. I’ve rubbed some margarine on it and it’ll be better in no time.’

  Tommy reluctantly rose to his feet, but paused on his way out to say to Angel, ‘You daft bugger. Fancy thinking I fell into me bonfire.’

  Sally hated his language but held her tongue as the boy left. ‘Say goodnight to Nanny,’ Sally told her daughter before taking her upstairs again.

  ‘Why didn’t Daddy come home?’ Angel asked as Sally tucked her into bed.

  ‘I expect he got held up at work,’ she replied, yet thinking there was more to it than that.

  ‘But he promised to buy me some fireworks.’

  ‘I know, darling. I’m sure he’ll make it up to you,’ Sally placated as she began to hum a lullaby, relieved when at last her daughter settled down. Angel had been badly frightened, and Sally’s anger was aimed at Tommy’s parents. How could they let the boy light a bonfire without supervision?

  It was fifteen minutes later when Sally crept from the room, her mother saying as soon as she walked into the kitchen, ‘I had no idea that Angel was still awake. Is she all right now?’

  ‘Yes, but I’m worried about Arthur. He was supposed to be home by seven and now it’s gone ten.’

  Just at that moment Arthur walked in. ‘Well, well, it’s about time,’ Ruth drawled.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Sally asked. ‘You said you’d be early and that you’d buy Angel some fireworks.’

  ‘Did I? Sorry, I forgot.’

  ‘I don’t see how when you must have seen endless fireworks going off.’

  ‘Look, I’ve got a lot on my mind. Now just leave it, will you.’

  Sally was unable to believe his attitude and now watched as Arthur took a seat by the fire, gazing into the flames. It was as though his mind was elsewhere. What was he thinking about, or who? One thing was certain; he obviously didn’t want to talk. ‘If that’s how you feel, fine. I’m going to bed.’

  ‘Are you all right, Sal?’ Ruth called.

  ‘Yes. Goodnight, Mum,’ she managed to say, aware as she left the room that Arthur was still staring into the fire.

  With one foot on the stairs, Sally paused as tears filled her eyes. She and Arthur were growing further and further apart. If only Gran wasn’t so ill, if only they could find a place of their own. Suddenly Sally was struck by another thought. Arthur hated living here, but he hadn’t mentioned moving out for some time now. Why?

  Was he going to leave her? With a sob, Sally ran upstairs feeling as though her life was falling apart.

  * * *

  A few minutes later Sally heard their bedroom door open and through tear-filled eyes she asked, ‘Arthur, are you seeing another woman?’

  ‘What? Of course I’m not. Whatever gave you that idea?’

  Angel stirred and worried that she would wake, Sally kept her voice low. ‘It isn’t just work that keeps you out late. You often arrive with the smell of beer on your breath and you never mention moving out now.’

  ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind and buying a house has been put on the back burner.’

  ‘So if it isn’t a woman, what is it?’

  ‘It’s to do with work and if you must know, Sal, I’ve been looking for a way out.’

  ‘What! Surely you don’t mean a way out of your father’s firm?’

  ‘That says it all, Sally. His firm. Not mine.’

  ‘But he’s your father and takes it for granted that one day the business will go to you.’

  ‘Yes, one day, but he isn’t yet fifty and he’ll carry on running the place for at least another fifteen years. He doesn’t need me, Sally. I
just do deliveries, the same as the other men, and he can easily replace me.’

  ‘I thought you liked the removals business.’

  ‘It was all right at first. I enjoyed travelling around the country, but now it’s just a daily grind and I’ve come to hate it.’

  Sally thought about her father-in-law, a man she had grown to love. Bert, like Arthur, was a gentle giant and she knew that if Arthur made up his mind to leave the firm, he wouldn’t be happy about it. ‘So have you found a way out?’

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ he said, and sitting down on the side of the bed he spoke quietly. ‘I told you a while ago that an old friend of mine, Joe Somerton, was back in the country. He’s asked me to go into business with him and I’ve been looking into it. There’s been a lot to sort out and we’ve been meeting as often as we can to discuss the details.’

  ‘You’re not thinking of going back to Australia, are you?’ Sally asked worriedly.

  ‘No, silly, the business is in England. We’re going to build houses, though we won’t be involved in the actual construction,’ Arthur explained, then went on to tell her about their plans, from the plot of land they’d buy to the actual sale of houses and the projected profits they’d make.

  To Sally it sounded plausible, but risky. Arthur sounded so enthusiastic and she hated to burst his bubble, but felt she had to voice her concerns. ‘I’m not sure about this. You’d be leaving your father’s firm and the security it offers. Are you sure you’d be doing the right thing?’

  ‘Yes, after giving it a lot of thought, I’m sure, though of course I intended to mull it over with you before I gave Joe my decision. I was going to talk to you in the morning, but then you came out with this ridiculous idea that I’ve been seeing another woman.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but you have to admit you’ve been acting strangely.’

  ‘As I said, I’ve had a lot on my mind. I’ll have to invest all our savings into the venture and that will mean we won’t be able to buy a house for the foreseeable future.’

  ‘That wouldn’t worry me. We can stay here.’

  ‘No, Sally, we still need a place of our own again. I know you feel that your gran needs you to look after her, but there’s no reason why we can’t rent a flat close by. You can look after her during the day, but in the evenings we’d be in our own home again.’