A Family Christmas (11 page)

Nellie surveyed the table. ‘Well it looks all right to me. How are you all?’ According to the replies everyone was fine. ‘Right then,’ Nellie said, ‘so we’ll all enjoy our teas. What time is our visitor expected?’

‘Our Ben’s gone to meet her off the bus. They should be here any minute now.’

And they were. Ben came in rubbing his hands.
‘Right
then, Emma, let me introduce you to the family: Mary, the eldest and her husband, Jacob. This is Nellie, Jane, Lucy and … Where’s our William?’

Lucy went towards the door. ‘He’s sneaked out again. I’ll go find him.’

‘No, please leave him,’ Emma said. ‘I’ll see him later. It’s so nice to meet you all at last.’ Emma thought there were quite enough people staring at her for the time being without William.

‘Nice to meet you too.’ Mary shook hands with the pleasant, gorgeous-looking girl. ‘I’ll mash the tea then, shall I, Jane?’

‘Yes please, and I’ll go fetch our Will, if I can find him.’ They managed to squeeze themselves round the large kitchen table and Mary poured the tea.

‘Is it a party then?’ William asked as he helped himself to salad from the cut-glass bowl that had once belonged to Grandma Gabbitas.

‘Aye it is,’ Ben told him. ‘It’s some time since a party was held in this house, so we’ll have one today, to celebrate Emma’s first visit to our house.’

‘Welcome to our home, Emma,’ Lucy said. She liked the look of Ben’s girlfriend and hoped she would make her brother happy.

When the tea plates were cleared away and the tea cups replenished Lucy served the pie. ‘Hmm.’ Nellie rolled her eyes. ‘Who’s made this?’

‘Our Lucy,’ Jane answered.

‘Hmm, you can come and bake for me at the manor.’

Lucy blushed.

‘Nellie’s right, it’s delicious,’ Emma added. ‘I’m afraid I’ve yet to learn how to cook.’

‘I’ll teach you. That’s if you want to come again of course.’

‘Oh yes, I’d love to come again. That’s if Ben invites me, I mean.’

‘
I’m
inviting you,’ Lucy smiled.

Ben grinned at his sister, relieved that Emma had received such a warm welcome. ‘Right then, shall we adjourn to the parlour?’ Ben put on a posh voice, to everyone’s amusement. Young Will had lit a fire in the front room and they had placed a vase of flowers on the polished round table.

‘I’ll help to wash up first,’ Emma volunteered.

‘No, we’ll see to that later.’

‘Can I go back out now?’ Will was itching to be outside with the other kids.

‘Oh, go on then.’ Jane was relieved in a way – the front room would be crowded enough without their William.

‘Right, then, who’s for a sing song?’ Ben went up to the attic and came down with his father’s melodion. Lucy’s face paled. It was the first time she had seen the instrument since her dad had played it in the happy time before his illness. She suppressed the feeling of sadness and vowed to put the past behind her.

‘Right, what shall we sing?’ Ben blew the dust off, revealing the bright colours of the melodion.

‘Let Emma decide; she’s our guest.’ Mary said.

‘Well! Seeing as it’s Sunday, how about a hymn?’

‘Aye, that’s a good idea.’ Jacob had a lovely voice and enjoyed belting out a few hymns now and again. ‘What about “Onward Christian Soldiers”?’

Ben had a practice and found the key, and before long the hymn could be heard all along the row. After a few minutes half a dozen ragged-looking children wandered in to see what was happening, then Enid Slater arrived, partly because she could never resist a good sing song and partly to sneak a look at Ben’s girl. She had promised to look out for Annie’s family and didn’t consider Ben too old to need a bit of looking out for.

‘Come in, Mrs Slater,’ Ben invited. ‘Come and meet Emma, the girl I’m going to marry.’ Emma blushed as she shook the hand offered her.

‘You’ll be getting yerself a good lad. There’s none better as I know of.’

‘I’m sure you’re right, Mrs Slater.’ Emma remained standing and gave the lady her place on the sofa. After another couple of hymns Ben changed the tempo and struck up with ‘I’ve Got Sixpence’. Then he did a medley of popular songs.

Before they had finished Mr Slater had wandered in and joined in the revelry. ‘Eeh, lad, it’s like old times; it’s some time since there was music like this on the row. What’s it all about?’

‘It’s to welcome my fiancée, Mr Slater.’

‘Is it now? Well then, let’s ’ave a look at you, lass.’

‘Stop embarrassing the girl,’ his wife admonished. ‘If Ben’s chosen her it doesn’t matter what anybody else thinks.’

‘Course it does, ee’s as good as a son to me and I can see that this young lass’ll be a wife to be proud of. I’m not a bad judge of character and I can see that Bill would ’ave been proud to have her in the family, so can we ’ave a bit more music?’

‘One more, then we shall ’ave to go.’ Ben had suddenly realised what time it was. ‘Hey, shouldn’t you lot be at church by now?’

‘We’re not going,’ Will informed his brother. ‘Our Jane says we needn’t as it’s a special occasion.’

‘Right, well just this once then.’ Ben began to play again, the hymn that had been his father’s favourite. ‘This one’s for me mam and dad, even though they aren’t here to hear it.’

‘Oh but they are,’ Lucy said. ‘I mean, I’m sure they’re here in spirit.’

‘He Who Would Valiant Be’ rang out across the row and the Gabbitas family were uplifted and finally felt they could look forward to the future and better times. All except William, who could foresee a wedding day drawing rapidly nearer and an escape from the mine becoming ever more remote.

On the following day, tea at the vicarage consisted of salad and roast chicken. The poultry had been sent with the compliments of Boadacea Greenwood – in appreciation of the vicar’s help given to all the people
of
the parish, she said. Because it was Mr Grundy’s Oddfellows Benevolent Society meeting Robbie was for once home to join them. James and John, both being on afternoon shift, were absent.

‘Well, this is nice,’ Louisa commented as she poured the tea. ‘We don’t often have Robbie’s company at the evening meal.’

The chicken was delicious but Prudence helped herself to nothing more then a lettuce leaf and a warm boiled beetroot. ‘Aren’t you feeling well?’ Louisa enquired of her daughter.

‘I’m fine, why?’

‘Well, why aren’t you eating?’

‘I am.’

‘Have some chicken then.’

‘Oh I couldn’t possibly eat that, knowing where it’s come from.’

‘What do you mean?’ Herbert put down his fork.

‘From the Greenwoods. I’m sure the farm kitchen is far from hygienic.’

‘It’s as clean as anyone else’s,’ Robbie said, not counting the flea-ridden old dog, but he didn’t think he’d better mention that.

‘I’m sure it is,’ Louisa acknowledged. ‘Anything Mrs Greenwood sends us is always delicious and very much appreciated.’

‘And that’s another thing: do we have to accept charity from those people?’

‘It’s not charity. She sent it for the vicar for all the good work he does. Goodman by name, good
man
by nature, that’s how she described your father. Besides, what do you mean by “THOSE PEOPLE”?’ Robbie could feel his temper rising.

‘Well, they’re so vulgar. Take the girl, Dot, so loud-voiced and common.’

‘No she isn’t. She might laugh loudly, but that’s better than never laughing at all and having a long, miserable face like yours.’

Prudence felt the colour rising to her face. ‘I won’t sit here and let him speak to me like that,’ she told her parents.

‘That’s all right. Go to your room then,’ Louisa said.

‘No it’s all right. I’ll go to mine; you can stay here. I apologise for my outburst, sir, but I don’t regret the things I said. The Greenwoods are my friends. Good hard-working people who have made me welcome in their home just as you have. I’m very grateful to you for that and sorry if I’ve upset you.’ Robbie stood up and made for the door.

‘Robert, come back here and finish your meal. Prudence, I believe you were going to your room. What are you waiting for?’

The girl stood up so abruptly she knocked over her chair and leaving it where it had fallen she flounced out of the room. Robert picked it up and placed it at the table. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t eat any more,’ he said.

‘And no wonder. What’s wrong with the girl?’

Louisa sighed. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘She’s
turning
into a spoiled, pampered snob. She needs something useful to do with her life. All she does is waste her days doing useless pieces of embroidery and reading, and it’s not as if she reads anything intelligent; she’s taken to buying those awful love magazines. Nothing but a waste of money, money she doesn’t see the value of because she doesn’t have to lift a finger and earn it. She needs a job.’

‘A job? Doing what?’ Herbert would never agree to his daughter working.

‘I don’t know. I only know that she’ll end up an embittered old spinster if she doesn’t get out amongst people her own age.’

Robbie was embarrassed at being a party to the conversation. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready. I’m going to play billiards at the Miners’ Club. Thank you for a lovely meal, Louisa.’

‘Thanks to Mrs Greenwood. Please give her our thanks when you see her, and for the eggs from the week before. We’re most grateful.’

‘I will.’ Robbie escaped from what had been the most embarrassing meal of his life. Thank God his brothers hadn’t been here to witness his outburst or he’d have been for it. He didn’t go upstairs, unwilling to encounter Prudence Goodman. He checked to see that he had two pence in his pocket, which would pay for half an hour’s billiards, and went out into the fresh Millington air. He had grown to love this town and the people in it. He felt a deep affection for the Goodmans and the Grundys and
considered
himself an extremely fortunate young man. Only one person was spoiling his life, but it was Prudence Goodman’s home and he was just a lodger, so he had better learn to control his tongue. Otherwise he and his brothers could find themselves homeless again. Even seeing Prudence Goodman’s spiteful face every day was preferable to that.

Nellie Gabbitas was more excited than she had ever been in her life. She had been asked to arrange a dinner party for twenty-four very important gentlemen who were doing business in Cragstone. Not normal everyday catering, she had been told, but something very special. If she wasn’t capable – the housekeeper had told her – outside help could be arranged. Nellie had been adamant that with Lily’s help and maybe a girl to help wait at the table she could definitely cope. Lily said her sister would be delighted to assist her and now the day had arrived.

‘You can pluck those pheasants now, Lily. And don’t forget to remove the charcoal pieces.’

‘What’s it for, the charcoal?’

‘Keeps it fresh whilst it’s hanging. Before you do that, bank up the oven and pull out the damper, I need to get these pies in soon. We could do with two ovens today.’ The pies had been made with four hares and a pound of bacon. Four onions, the livers and four glasses of wine had been mixed with breadcrumbs and seasoned with nutmeg and parsley to
make
a forcemeat. Nellie had lined the pie dishes with the forcemeat and placed the cooked chopped hares in the dishes. For the topping she had made four pounds of rough puff pastry and placed it over the pies. These would be cooked now whilst the oven wasn’t too hot; when they came out the cranberry tarts would be ready to go in. She would serve these with egg custard. She would also be serving ginger puffs with wine sauce and rice meringue decorated with cherries and angelica. Lily’s sister could do the decorating.

‘Are those pheasants plucked yet, Lily?’

‘Nearly.’

‘When they are you can get down the iron cauldron and put the ham, asparagus tops and the lettuces in; it’ll need five pints of liquid in and it can go on the hook over the fire. You can use that stock we saved from yesterday and don’t overdo the salt; that ham’s a bit on the salty side. I ought to have soaked it overnight but it’ll be all right.’ Before the asparagus soup Nellie would be starting with prawns, twelve for each person, cooked but not shelled. She would stand them round half a lemon decorated with parsley. After that they would be served whitebait with thin brown bread and butter. Then would come the hashed pheasant and then the hare pie followed by the sweets. Nellie had been more worried about serving the wrong wines than not coping with the menu, but Mrs Cooper was an authority on that, her being a secret tippler.

‘Sherry wi’ soup. Hock wi’ fish. Champagne wi’ owt. Port wi’ the dessert and a nice liqueur with the coffee. You can do them; leave the lasses to serve the food and you serve the drinks. Oh and have some barley water for the teetotals, though I doubt there’ll be any amongst that lot. I’ll get out the decanters for young Molly to wash later.’

‘I don’t know how they’ll get any drink down them if they eat this lot.’ Lily brought out the pies, her face scarlet with the heat from the oven.

‘And summat else to remember,’ Mrs Cooper told Lily, ‘go and ’ave an all-over wash before yer put that clean uniform on. We don’t want ’em complaining about the smell of sweat.’

‘I won’t smell. I’ll put some of that Lily-of-the-valley on that you bought me for Christmas.’

‘Aye, well I don’t mind yer smelling nice, but get rid of that sweat first. I don’t want yer thinking yer can cover it up wi’ scent because it won’t work.’

‘I might not ’ave time.’

‘You will.’ Nellie looked at the clock on the wall. ‘We’ve got everything in hand.’

‘I hope our Molly don’t faint, she’s ever so shy.’

‘Faint?’ Mrs Cooper shrieked. ‘Why, is she prone to fainting?’

‘No, not as I know of.’

‘Well then, stop trying to give us a heart attack, yer daft haporth.’

‘I hope there’s someone tall, dark and handsome and rich who takes a fancy to me,’ Nellie said.

‘They’ll be too busy gobbling to notice owt else.’

‘Aye, I expect they will,’ Nellie agreed, ‘but I can always dream and hope.’

‘Aye, I suppose you’re right. As my owd mother always used to say, “Where there’s life there’s hope”.’ Mrs Cooper flopped down in her own special chair. ‘Though I’ve given up hope of a man of any sort, years ago.’