A Family Christmas (41 page)

‘Me dad did it. Ee got pissed up again.’

The girl who looked about fourteen slapped him on the leg. ‘Stop swearing, our Danny.’

‘Well, ee did. Ee always hits somebody when ee’s pissed up. This time it wor me mam, last time it wor our Gladys.’

‘Stop telling tales.’ The girl slapped him again.

By this time Mrs Hakin had recovered a bit and John had begun bathing the woman’s eye and washing the blood from her cheek. ‘I didn’t know where to go, Mr Grey. Ee’s chucked us out and locked door. It was our Jane who said that Bernard’s mam’d look after us.’ Jane was in the same class as Bernard and often shared a meal with them rather than go home. Now Lucy realised why the little girl spent a lot of time away from home.

‘She did right to tell you that. We’ll manage for tonight,’ John frowned, ‘but after that …’

‘Oh, ee’ll be all right when he’s sobered up. It’s just the drink that affects ’im.’

‘Well then, let’s get you lot to bed.’

‘Oh I didn’t expect that.’

‘You girls can squeeze in with Rosie and you two lads can go in with Bernard.’

Jane began to protest. ‘I want to sleep wi’ Bernard. ’Ee’s my friend.’

‘Shut up and do as Mr Grey tells yer.’ Gladys pulled her sister after her towards the stairs.

Mrs Hakin sat on the sofa. ‘I’ll be right grand ’ere, thanks.’ Finally they were all settled, until Andrew,
disturbed
by the noise, decided he had slept long enough.

Two days later Lucy had to get out the nit comb and vinegar.

‘So much for doing someone a good turn,’ John said as she poured vinegar water over his head.

‘God will repay us one day.’ John hoped Lucy’s philosophy proved to be right.

Chapter Twenty-seven

ON A LOVELY
September day William Gabbitas and Elizabeth Hague were married. Most of Cragstone turned out to see the popular marketeer and the pretty local girl tie the knot and with Will’s family and friends from Millington the church was more crowded than it had been for many years. For once, Herbert Goodman was amongst the congregation and the memory of his daughter’s wedding brought pain to him and Louisa. Mr Brown felt quite emotional at the sight of Will and Betty’s obvious happiness. The bridesmaids, including Primrose Grey, looked as pretty as a picture in lemon satin dresses and juliet caps and muffs made by Mary. Will never noticed, having eyes for no one but his bride.

A straight-faced photographer had been hired, but by the time Will had done playing the fool and making a joke of the whole procedure, even he had a smile on his face. The Cragstone housewives had donned their finery to watch their favourite greengrocer become a respectable married man and poor Betty had to cope with a barrage of ribald remarks. Fortunately she was as broad-minded as they were
and
though she seemed to ignore them she couldn’t help smiling at remarks such as ‘We’s ’ave to mek do wi’ one of them there carrots now young Will’s out of bounds, Polly.’

Polly’s answer of ‘Nay lass, a cucumber’d be more like,’ brought smiles to the faces of the bystanders. Broad-minded Betty might be but she found herself blushing to think that the vicar and his wife were listening. However, Will held her hand and gazed adoringly at his new wife and Betty couldn’t care less about anyone except him.

The reception was still in progress when the couple slipped away. They could hear the Lambeth Walk as Betty’s father opened the car door for them. ‘Well lass, what does it feel like to be a married woman?’ He looked lovingly at the daughter he was going to miss so much.

‘Ask me when we come back from Blackpool, Dad.’

Then they were at the station and on their way to Nellie and Tom’s, the honeymoon being a wedding gift from the Johnsons.

‘Oh, and Dad.’ Betty’s eyes were filling with tears. ‘Thank you for making this a wonderful wedding day for us.’

‘And for the house,’ Will added as he shook his father-in-law’s hand.

‘You’re welcome, lad. Like I said, just take good care of my lass. So long as she’s looked after I shall be content.’

‘She will be, I promise. The train’s coming. Better get the bags out.’

‘Yer going to be tired by the time yer get to Blackpool.’

Then they were on their way, alone in a carriage with pictures on the wall of Buxton and Harrogate and Robin Hood’s Bay, and the blinds lowered at the windows. ‘Well, Mrs Gabbitas, are we going to wait for a nice feather bed in which to consummate our marriage?’

‘Nothing wrong with this seat as far as I can see.’

‘Nothing wrong at all.’ And then Betty was in his arms and for once in his life, Will Gabbitas was silent. He had more important things on his mind than making witty remarks. In fact he had never felt more serious about anything in his life. Betty was his and he was about to find out at last what lovemaking was all about. Betty’s dad had been right: they were tired by the time they reached Blackpool.

Mrs Cooper had settled in remarkably well and had fallen completely in love with little Henry. On fine days she wheeled him on Central Drive and down onto the promenade. She couldn’t help showing off a bit with the Silver Cross pram when she sat in one of the shelters to rest her feet and have a bit of a gossip with other pram pushers, or other elderly people simply out for a brisk walk and a bit of sea air. She made friends with a grandmother and both women tried to outdo each other
with
how much weight the babies had gained, or which one had slept through the night, or smiled their first smile. Both women were wise enough to realise the smiles were only wind.

Nellie was careful to claim back her son after the hours allotted to Mrs Cooper, afraid that her baby might become fonder of the helper than he was of Nellie. She was also careful not to tire her or take advantage of the older woman’s kindness. She needn’t have worried; Mrs Cooper seemed to have more energy than she had had for years. She was delighted now to take bookings over the phone, keeping tabs of which rooms were reserved and which were vacant. Nellie was astounded to find the big blue account book balanced week by week, and she seemed to keep the cleaners in order. Tom laughed one day when he came home early to find one of the women applying brasso to the letter box and house number. ‘I’ve never seen the cleaner do that before,’ he told Nellie.

‘No, but Mrs Cooper told them she thought it was time it was done. Said it would have been done every week in her day.’

‘Well, it certainly looks better. I just hope she doesn’t upset our staff, or they may decide to leave.’

‘Oh she won’t, she’s started making them tea and biscuits halfway through the morning. They seem to work all the harder after that.’

Nellie frowned. ‘Do you think I should have given them a tea break?’

‘I don’t know. My staff at the garage just brew up when they like. Anyway, Mrs Cooper seems to have everything sorted.’

‘And she’s so good with Henry. Oh, Tom, he’s such a contented baby.’

‘He’s loved, that’s why. Lily adores him too. He’s going to get spoiled with all you women fussing round him.’

‘Oh he’s not short of male adoration either; Cyril and Sydney demand a cuddle every morning.’

‘If you can call them male company,’ Tom grinned.

‘Well, not only them. There’s the sergeant major. Surely he’s man enough; he’ll have him running round playing at soldiers as soon as he can toddle. He tells Mrs Cooper to let the boy exercise his lungs and that all her mollycoddling’ll never make a man of him. She usually takes notice of him and puts Henry back in his pram.’

‘He must like it here to decide he’ll stay permanently. A few more like him would be a good thing if there’s going to be a war.’

‘Well, I think it was Mrs Cooper’s persuasion that did it. All her talk about it being the finest air on the planet and me being the best cook in Blackpool. Although in my opinion it’s just that they’ve taken a fancy to each other. Anyway, there won’t be a war, will there?’

‘I’m afraid there will, Nellie,’ Tom sighed, ‘but we shall worry about that when it happens.’

Nellie was quiet as she wondered what would happen in the event of a war starting. It was all very well Tom telling her not to worry, but they had a son to consider, and a guest house with so many overheads. She picked up her son and cuddled him close. He and his father were so precious to her, and they might neither of them be safe if a war began. ‘Oh, well, it’s time you were fed, big boy, so let’s get that bottle made, shall we?’

‘Can I feed him?’ Lily had finished setting the tables in the dining room and there was nothing more to be done until high tea.

‘If you like.’ It would give Nellie a chance to finish the trifle and she knew Lily enjoyed giving Henry his bottle. She didn’t indulge Lily very often, so feeding Henry would be a treat. The girl’s face blossomed as she settled the baby in the crook of her arm and gave him his milk. Henry’s large blue eyes fixed on Lily and as of old, emotion brought tears to her eyes. ‘Ooh, Nellie I wish ee was mine. Ee’s the sweetest baby in the whole wide world.’

‘I agree, Lily, he is. But you’ll have one of your own soon enough. Don’t be in a hurry, love. Enjoy yourself whilst you’re young.’

‘Ooh, I am. I never thought I’d enjoy meself as much. It’s being ’ere with you, and now Mrs Cooper’s ’ere too. It’s like I’ve a new family of me own.’

‘Don’t you miss your own family?’

‘I miss me dad but not me mam, and I miss our Molly and the others, but I’ve grown to love being
’ere
. Besides I’ve got Jim and I’ve grown to love ’im too.’

‘Oh! And does Jim love you?’

‘Well ee says ee does. But don’t worry, we’re not thinking of getting married or owt daft like that. Jim wants to save up for a café of ’is own and somewhere to live. So it’ll take years for that to ’appen. So we’re just enjoying our lives. I shall ’ave a baby like Henry one day though. That’s if war doesn’t start. It wouldn’t be fair would it, ’aving a baby with Jim going to war?’

‘Let’s not talk about war, Lily. It might never happen.’

‘Sergeant major says it will. Ee was telling Cyril and Sydney they’ll be entertaining the troops before next year’s out.’

Nellie stuck a few sprigs of fresh mint in the pan of new potatoes and carried on slicing the ham. She hoped all this talk of war turned out to be nothing but talk. ‘I should get his wind up now, Lily.’

Lily removed the bottle and held Henry over her shoulder, gently patting his back. Henry gave a huge burp, causing Lily and Nellie to burst into laughter. The subject of war was put on one side for the time being.

This was the quietest Christmas for a long time, if ever. Ben and Emma were recovering from influenza and wouldn’t risk Lucy’s family becoming infected. Will and Betty were spending the day with
her
parents and Nellie and Tom couldn’t make the journey this year. So it was Mary, Jacob, Jane and James who were the guests at Lucy’s. Nevertheless it was a joyous occasion as the children played with their toys from Father Christmas and the adults drank and ate too much. After lunch the men played Crib and the ladies caught up with the gossip.

‘It’s quiet without our Will and Ben.’ Mary had Andrew on her knee, showing him a book about animals and revelling in the scent of his newly washed hair. Mary had at last resigned herself to the fact that she would probably remain childless. She had told Jacob’s mother in no uncertain terms never to mention the subject again and both Mary and Jacob felt much better without the fact being constantly referred to.

It had just turned eight when Mr and Mrs Marshall, Kitty and Frank walked in. ‘We came for a bit of a sing song, lass. But it doesn’t look as though the musician’s turned up,’ Mr Marshall said.

‘No, but we can sing without him,’ John said. And they did. All the old favourites and new ones besides.

When Jacob put on his trilby and reached for his coat to go home, Kitty said, ‘Well actually I came to tell you Frank and I are to be married.’

‘Oh, Kitty, that’s marvellous news! When is it to be?’ Lucy hugged her.

‘We thought as soon as possible, what with the threat of the war hanging over us.’

‘This calls for another drink.’ John went for some clean glasses.

So Jacob took off his hat and coat and the party continued well into the night.

‘Can I be a bridesmaid and wear a white dress?’ Rosie shyly asked Kitty.

‘You surely can, and Violet too. You’ll be the prettiest bridesmaids ever to walk into Millington Church.’

Rosie and Violet giggled and forced their heavy eyes to stay open so as not to miss a moment of this exciting day.

When the visitors did finally decide to leave, James said, ‘It’s been another right grand day, John. Not many of the family here this year but a grand day all the same.’

Lucy looked round at the children – at Rosie and Violet, at Andrew asleep on the sofa and Bernard and Peter playing with Baby on the rug in front of the fire.

‘These are my family, James. So long as they are content, then so am I.’

Everything seemed to be going smoothly since the old year had drawn to a close. Lucy was pleased to think John had finally got the hang of being careful and no more babies were on the horizon. Mrs Slater wondered if Lucy’s last difficult confinement was the more likely reason. All the children were thriving and once Rosie realised that temper
tantrums
wouldn’t help in her endeavour to attend school with Bernard, she turned out to be a great help to her mother. Rosie would help dress the younger ones and keep an eye on the twins, who now delighted in playing outside. Rosie’s favourite task was to be given a bucket of water on washday and a yard brush with which to scrub the step and the outside flags. The fact that she usually ended up saturated didn’t bother Rosie, and Lucy simply hung the wet garments to dry on the fire guard.

The twins didn’t seem to need much attention from anyone except each other. They were content to play the same games, go to bed at the same time and learn at the same rate. When Peter had begun to walk, Violet followed, and when Violet started to talk, her brother copied. When Bernard contracted measles the twins fell ill on the same day. Fortunately Andrew and Rosie escaped the illness. It was difficult enough keeping the twins in a darkened room, without the baby becoming infected. All three patients recovered without any long-lasting effects, much to Lucy’s relief. Little Andrew looked as if he would never suffer a day’s illness in his life and seemed to grow heavier and taller by the day.