That'll Be the Day (2007) (43 page)

There was a silence, one far too deep for either of them to break. Leo cradled her in his arms while Judy wept quietly on his shoulder. She drank in the familiar scent of him, savoured the warmth of his body, the strength of his arms about her, so newly learned and now to be lost forever. The embrace did nothing to quench the pain in her heart which was surely breaking inside, nor to stem the tide of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. With reluctance he set her from him.

‘I have to go.’ Leo held her chin between his thumb and fingers, kissed her softly on the mouth. ‘Take care, Judy, my love. Fight Sam for those lovely children of yours. Don’t let him win. And remember that I love you. Always remember that.’ Then there was nothing but a blast of cold air as the door closed behind him.

Chapter Forty-Two

Lynda visited the wholesale market with Terry, and having placed her order for the tree, they spent the rest of the afternoon filling in forms for a marriage licence and enjoying a cappuccino and a sandwich in Lewis’s department store. It felt so good to be together again, as if it were right, like slipping a hand into a well loved glove.

Mam had told her not to hurry back, allowing them a little time together, so they went for a leisurely walk. Not by the canal where the narrow boats cruise which used to be a favourite walk of theirs but beyond Castlefield, over towards Ordsall where Terry had heard there were new flats to let. He was keen to find a place quickly, so they could get married.

He suggested that since they’d consistently failed to persuade Ewan to move out, then the rest of the family should do so instead, lock, stock and barrel. Terry was more than willing to share their future home with his mother-in-law, Jake too if it meant he could protect the woman he loved. And as luck would have it, they found one. Three bedrooms and a bathroom fit for a queen, together with a spacious living room and kitchen, and all on the ground floor so it would be perfect for her mam.

Lynda was itching to tell Betty her good news when she got home, but didn’t get the reaction she’d hoped for.

Betty was shocked. ‘I’m not moving. This is my home, has been ever since I came to Champion Street at the start of the war, and they’ll carry me out of here in a box. I’m certainly not going to be chased out by that no-good ex-husband of mine.’

‘But wouldn’t you rather live with me and Terry in a lovely new flat? Then you’d be free of him for good.’

‘No, I don’t want to live in a lovely new flat with you and Terry, nor do I want to move from the market. Ordsall wouldn’t be at all convenient, and you have your own lives to live. I like it here in Champion Street close to my stall, and I certainly have no intention of handing my house over to
him
. Never!’

So that was the end of Terry’s plan. Lynda wasn’t sure she could bring herself to leave her mother alone with Ewan, but if she didn’t how could she and Terry ever hope to be together? Oh, it was all so difficult. She’d just have to hope that she could win her mother round in the end, perhaps when she went to see the new flat.

‘Eeh, but I’m right thrilled for you, chuck. I’m so pleased you’re getting wed. He’s such a grand lad,’ and mother and daughter hugged each other in a rare moment of joy.

‘Terry will look after you, and I want you to be safe. But don’t you worry about me. I’ll be all right here.’

‘But I do worry about you, I worry a great deal. I can’t leave you two on your own, there’d be blue murder done.’

‘I’ll have our Jake, and I’ve thought of a scheme to get rid of his lordship,’ Betty said, lowering her voice and tapping the side of her nose with one finger. ‘It’s risky, but it might work.’

Lynda got her mother into bed and made them each a mug of cocoa, Queenie in pride of place on Betty’s feet. They enjoyed a bit of gossip but she absolutely refused to say any more about this so-called scheme of hers.

‘Not yet, chuck. I have to finalise a few details. I’ll let you know when the time is right.’

When Betty started to nod off, Lynda washed the mugs and locked up. It was ten o’clock and Jake was still out with his mates. When she’d seen her mother safely into bed, Lynda crept up the stairs, shoes in hand so as not to disturb her.

Lynda took her time getting ready for bed, happily spinning delicious plans for her future with Terry as she undressed and went to the bathroom. She didn’t mind in the least having a registry office wedding. All she wanted was to be with Terry, the man she loved.

She’d maybe treat herself to a new suit for the ceremony, or one of those shift dresses in cream wool. And she could ask Patsy to make her a hat to match. Lynda wondered if Judy would be her matron-of-honour, if she could find her in time. Would Sam know where her friend was living now, she wondered? Probably not. But she couldn’t be far away, because of the children. Maybe Ruth knew. Why hadn’t she thought to ask before?

Warmly wrapped in her dressing gown, Lynda sat at her dressing table and began to write out a few invitations.

Mam had made it plain that she wasn’t entirely happy about the arrangements, not wishing her daughter to have a hole-in-the-corner wedding, yet they both knew absolute secrecy was vital. Lynda had reluctantly agreed to invite a few relatives, her Aunt Marjorie and Uncle Joe, a couple of her favourite cousins who lived in Blackburn, and one or two old school friends who lived far enough away not to come into contact with Ewan Hemley.

After that she started work on a list of jobs which needed to be done before the Big Day. It was all so exciting.

She lost track of time as she sat there, entirely engrossed in making these delightful plans. Then she smoothed cream over her face and plucked her eyebrows, wanting to stay beautiful for Terry, and only became aware she was no longer alone when she heard the bedroom door click shut.

Whirling round in alarm she was shocked to discover Ewan standing with his back against it, his nasty little eyes glittering in the half light from her beside lamp, and a leering grin on his ferret face.

Thinking he was still out, she hadn’t got around to blocking it off. Lynda felt a flutter of nervousness in the pit of her stomach. The last thing she wanted was to provoke an argument, nevertheless she was determined not to show her fear.

Striving to keep her voice pleasant and calm, Lynda calmly remarked, ‘You’re back earlier than usual. Do you want a cuppa before you go to bed? Only, I’d rather you didn’t come into my room if you don’t mind. I’ve told you already, it’s strictly private.’

‘That’s not a nice attitude to take with your old dad.’ He came up behind her, wobbling slightly as he picked up her hair brush. The stink of beer and unwashed sweat emanating from him almost made her faint. ‘I thought happen I’d help you get ready for bed, since you’re my little girl. Read you a story, brush your hair like, or help you into your jammy-jamas.’

Lynda felt sick at the thought but again warned herself not to antagonise him. ‘I can manage perfectly well, thanks. You look more in need of a lie down. Go on, get yourself off to bed before you fall down.’

Instead he began to brush her hair, slowly stroking the soft auburn curls, making her shudder so that it took all her will-power not to shove him away. Lynda tried to think what she could do. She was on her own with no one to help. Her mother might be on the mend at last, but didn’t have the strength to come running upstairs and take on this brute.

Ewan was shaking his head. The movement caused him to burp loudly and he laughed, as if he’d done something clever, then his tone became maudlin with drink.

‘You wanted a father and here I am, ready and willing to make up for lost time. We could be good mates, you and me, keep each other company like. So be nice to your lonely old dad, eh? Where’s the harm in a bit of a cuddle so long as we keep it in the family? You’re a bonny lass and . . .’

‘. . . you’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying.’ Frantic now, Lynda leapt from her seat and backed away, although there was no escape, nowhere to run. Ewan stood between herself and the closed bedroom door and the way his gaze was roving over her was sending chills down her spine. Lynda tugged the chord of her dressing gown tighter.

‘Oh, aye, I do indeed know what I’m saying.’ His voice dropped to a hushed calm, chillingly vicious as he grinned at her with a lop-sided leer. ‘We can’t let that Terry have all the fun, now can we? Wouldn’t be right when I have first call. Oh, don’t you fret, I know where you’ve been today and who you’ve been with. I make sure I keep a beady eye on what’s rightly mine.’

Desperation rose in her throat as sour as bile, and as he began to smooth a hand over her neck Lynda slapped it away.

‘I don’t
belong
to you, or to anyone else for that matter. I’m not some sort of possession. All right, so Terry gave me a lift to Smithfield market today to order the Christmas tree, so what?’

His mouth curled with distaste. ‘I spotted you on the back of his motor bike. Now where’s she off to now, I wondered? But you didn’t come home when you’d done your errand, did you?’

Cold fear was growing inside her. How did he know all of this? Should she risk calling out for Mam? But then what could she do? Betty could hardly pound upstairs and beat her ex-husband over the head with her crutches, could she? Lynda had no choice but to stand up to him and deal with this herself.

‘I have my spies,’ he said, as if reading her thoughts. ‘Didn’t I tell you to stay away from that lad? I don’t remember giving you permission to start seeing him again, or any other chap for that matter.’
 

Lynda lifted her chin in a gesture of defiance. ‘I’ve no idea what you’ve got against Terry, and I don’t care because it’s none of your business. He loves me and I love him.’ She’d meant to remain calm and not let him upset her but Lynda could hear her voice rising, filled with indignant anger. ‘In fact, you might as well know that we’re going to be married. If you really have followed us today you’ll probably already have guessed that we’ve organised a marriage licence,
and
found ourselves somewhere to live, somewhere for all of us, Mam and Jake too. We’re leaving. So you can put that in your flaming pipe and smoke it.’

‘You’re going nowhere without my permission, and you’re certainly not bloody getting wed!’

Lynda knew he would hit her even before she saw him raise his fist. But while she’d been shouting at him she’d also been scrabbling quietly behind her back on her dressing table, desperately searching for something,
anything
, with which to defend herself. Her fingers closed over a pair of scissors.

Now she lurched forward, scissors held high, although whether she might actually have used them she could never afterwards be sure for at that moment came a piercing scream from downstairs.

‘Lynda, Lynda, come quick. . .’

They both froze, but, fearing her mother was having a heart attack or something equally dreadful, Lynda was the first to react. She dropped the scissors, thrust Ewan to one side and flew down the stairs to find Betty on her knees in the kitchen with the cat in her arms. It was soaking wet through, its body ominously limp. Betty brought her anguished gaze up to her daughter’s, tears rolling down her fat cheeks.

‘It’s our Queenie. I found her in the kitchen sink when I went to get meself a drink of water. Some bastard has drowned her.’

As one, their combined gaze swivelled towards Ewan where he stood at the bottom of the stairs. He gave a snort of laughter as if this were all the funniest thing imaginable, and again burped loudly before attempting to speak.

‘I did warn you, Lynda love, that you’d regret it if you went out with a young man without my permission. You’ve only yourself to blame. You just won’t do as you’re told, either of you, and I can’t have that. I
won’t
have it.’

Chapter Forty-Three

Dulcie seemed to be surprisingly content in the home. She had a pleasant room with her own things about her, had made many new friends and Leo thought on his recent visits that she was much less lonely and confused.

On this occasion when he called she was sitting with a group of ladies in the conservatory playing bridge. She was smartly dressed in her favourite pale blue twin-set and pearls and matching tweed skirt, her white hair shining with health and her round face pink with happiness as she triumphantly claimed the rubber. She jumped up at the sight of him and came at once to kiss him. Leo apologised for not having brought her any flowers but he’d come to see her on an impulse, in need of some advice.

‘Doesn’t matter, son, I’m always delighted to see you.’ Her face clouded over. ‘Something is bothering you, I can always tell. Let me ask Janice to fetch us some tea then we’ll sit and chat.’

As they sat sipping tea together in the winter sunshine that filtered in through the conservatory windows, Leo tried to smile. ‘Actually it’s good news. Helen is pregnant, would you believe?’

Dulcie said nothing. She sat unmoving, cup poised inches from her lips, then set it down on the table untouched. ‘Well now, that is a surprise.’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘I suppose . . .’ Dulcie cleared her throat then started again. ‘May I ask a rather impertinent question?’

‘Mother, you never usually ask my permission to interfere in my affairs so why start now?’ But he was smiling, to show that he didn’t object.

‘It’s more your wife’s affairs that are concerning me, Leo. Are you sure, hand on heart, that this child is yours?’