Читать книгу A Family’s Heartbreak - Kitty Neale - Страница 9

Craig awoke to his silent world, but he felt as if a rapturous riot was occurring in his head. He’d fallen asleep with a smile on his face and now, as his eyes opened, his first thought was of Jenny and he smiled again.

Their date couldn’t have gone any better; it had been the best night of his life. Once Jenny had overcome her shyness, they’d chatted like old friends, and the more he got to know her, the more he found he liked her. They’d arranged to see each other again on Tuesday, but today was Sunday and their next date felt a lifetime away. He wished now that he’d invited her to lunch today, but he hadn’t wanted his keenness to frighten her off.

Craig almost skipped out of bed, then put the kettle on. As he stood waiting for the water to come to the boil, his mind filled with images and thoughts of Jenny. He found it sweet when she’d tap her fingers on her cheek when thinking, and tuck imaginary strands of hair behind her ear when being serious. He liked how her nose would wrinkle, like a mouse’s, when she sniffed, and he adored the dimples that showed when she smiled.

‘Get a grip of yourself, man,’ Craig said out loud as he poured hot water onto tea leaves. ‘You’re acting like a schoolboy with a crush!’ He tried to contain himself, but found he was overwhelmed with feelings for Jenny. He’d never felt like this before about anyone, and hoped she felt the same.

A short while later, Craig decided to head for his workshop. There wasn’t much else to do alone on a Sunday, other than take a walk or go to church. As he trotted downstairs, Edith’s door opened and the woman stepped out with her arms folded across her chest and a mischievous grin on her face.

‘Well then, how was your date?’ she asked.

‘Morning, Edith. Have you been standing behind your door waiting to accost me?’

‘You cheeky bugger, but yes, as it happens, I have.’

‘I’m surprised you weren’t waiting up for me to come home last night.’

‘I was, but I must have nodded off. Well?’

‘Well what?’ Craig asked, enjoying teasing the old woman.

‘Don’t make me drag it out of you,’ Edith warned and wagged her finger.

‘It was very … pleasant.’

‘Pleasant, is that it, pleasant?’

‘Actually, it was better than pleasant.’

‘The kettle’s just boiled, do you want to come in and tell me all about it?’

Yes, Craig wanted to. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jenny and would like nothing better than to talk about her too. As he followed Edith into her cosy home, he announced, ‘Do you know what, I’m absolutely smitten.’

Edith turned and smiled warmly. ‘Good. You’ve made an old woman very happy. Jenny deserves a bit of happiness and it’s about time she met a nice, decent man.’

Craig sat down and made no secret of his feelings. His cheeks ached from grinning so much, but he couldn’t help himself. ‘She’s lovely, Edith, really lovely.’

‘I know, she’s a good girl, you won’t find kinder.’

‘I won’t be looking! Honestly, Edith, call me soft if you want, but she’s bowled me over. I hope she likes me too.’

‘Tell me to mind me own business, but did you give her a kiss goodnight?’

‘Edith! You can’t ask me something like that,’ Craig answered, pretending to be shocked.

‘Don’t be bleedin’ daft. Did you or didn’t you?’

‘Yes, I did, but don’t you go giving me an ear-bashing. I swear, I was every ounce the gentleman.’

‘I’m sure you was and I’d expect nothing less, but my point is, if Jenny allowed you to give her a kiss, then I guarantee she likes you too. I know my Jen. Trust me, the feelings are mutual.’

‘Thanks, Edith, it’s nice to hear. I feel a bit stupid, and to be honest, I don’t know what’s come over me.’

‘It’s called love, Craig. Me and my husband were just the same when we first met. When you meet the one, you know it.’

Craig sat back in the armchair and sighed. He’d known immediately that Jenny was ‘the one’, but had told himself it was too soon. Of course, he wouldn’t reveal his feelings to Jenny just yet, but now that Edith confirmed it, he knew he was falling head over heels.

Henry turned over in bed, opened his eyes and blinked against the bright sunlight beaming through the window. It took him a minute or two to get his bearings but then he realised he must have fallen asleep without drawing the curtains and was still wearing all his clothes. He hardly remembered coming home last night but had recollections of lumping Jerry King. The man had been having a laugh at his expense about Lizzie with some toy boy. A bloody nose had soon shut Jerry up, but he couldn’t recall if he’d been barred from the pub or not. If he was, he wasn’t bothered – he’d spend his hard-earned cash in the Grove Tavern instead.

With his mouth feeling like the bottom of a parrot’s cage, Henry grimaced as he glanced at his bedside alarm clock. Bloody hell, it was nearly eleven. He must have been well plastered to sleep in this late. He could hear Timmy and Peter playing in the hallway downstairs. Blinkin’ kids, he thought; with his thumping head the last thing he needed was them lot mucking about. He threw his legs over the side of the bed, then sat with his head lowered. At least it was Sunday, so he didn’t have to go to work. He was a dustman. It was a stinking job, but he liked working in the outdoors and the lads on the dustcart were a good bunch of blokes. There were perks to the job too, often half-decent bits and pieces put out that they could flog, splitting the cash between them.

Henry’s stomach grumbled loudly. He had no idea when he’d last eaten. He straightened his back, stretched his arms and slowly stood up to go downstairs. Late up or not, one of the girls could cook him breakfast. There wasn’t much good he could say about his wife, but she had taught them how to cook and a big fry-up was exactly what he needed right now.

Jenny was in the kitchen, peeling potatoes in preparation for their Sunday dinner. She was still feeling elated from her date with Craig but tensed when she heard her father’s footsteps overhead. He’d be coming downstairs soon and was sure to have a hangover which meant he’d be like a bear with a sore head. She spun around and said quickly to Pamela, ‘Get the boys and take them to the back yard. Hurry.’

Pamela jumped from the kitchen table, rushed into the hallway and soon returned with Peter holding one hand and Timmy the other. ‘Let’s have a game of football,’ she urged as she dragged them through the kitchen.

Just in time, Jenny thought as her father walked in. ‘Morning, Dad. There’s tea in the pot,’ she said, not expecting to receive anything more than a grunt in response.

‘Pour me a cup, and I’ll have some bacon and eggs with it,’ he answered before sauntering off to the front room.

Jenny wrinkled her nose at the foul smell of his body odour and the stench of stale beer. It was bad enough that he came home every night with the pong of rubbish on him, but she couldn’t abide the stink of tobacco and alcohol that lingered on his clothes from when he’d been in the pub.

Though it was closer to lunchtime, she set to cooking his breakfast. Gloria walked into the room, done up to the nines. ‘Where are you going dressed like that?’ Jenny asked.

‘Nowhere,’ Gloria answered offhandedly.

‘So, what’s with all the fancy clobber?’

‘I just like to look nice.’

‘So you’re not going out, and just dressed up like that for no reason,’ Jenny challenged.

‘I might go for a walk.’

‘Where to? The shops will be closed today.’

‘I dunno, down to Chestnut Grove maybe.’

Jenny narrowed her eyes suspiciously. ‘Isn’t that where Dennis Henderson lives, above Queenie’s fag shop?’

‘Might be,’ Gloria said and strutted across the kitchen to pour herself a glass of tap water.

‘I knew it! You’re hoping to bump into him, aren’t you?’

‘Well, he is rather dishy.’

‘Yes, he’s a nice-looking lad, but from what I’ve heard he’s a bit of a so-and-so. You could do so much better.’

‘But I like him, Jen. I just wish he’d notice me.’

Jenny hoped he wouldn’t. She worked in the same factory as his mother and had heard the woman complaining about her son, saying he couldn’t hold down a job because she could never get him out of bed. ‘If he sees you dressed like that he’ll notice you all right, though I think you’d be better off giving him a wide berth and setting your sights higher.’

‘Don’t nag, Jen. I ain’t trying to marry him. I just want a bit of fun for a change and hope he’ll ask me out on a date.’

With their often bleak lives, Jenny couldn’t blame Gloria for wanting a bit of fun, but she worried that her sister was really looking for love. ‘Fine, it’s your life, but if you’re determined to see him I suggest you leave now, quickly, before Dad sees how short your skirt is.’

‘Yes, you’re right. He wouldn’t let me out the house like this. Wish me luck and I’ll see you later.’

Jenny just smiled. She couldn’t bring herself to wish Gloria luck in wanting to date the boy, but she couldn’t stop her. Gloria was headstrong and though Jenny tried her best to guide her, Gloria would often retaliate with anger and do her own thing regardless.

She heard the front door close, and for a while all was quiet, but then she heard heels tapping along the hallway before the kitchen door opened again. She was about to ask Gloria what she’d forgotten, but her heart sank when she heard her mother’s voice.

‘Morning, Jen, where’s your father?’

‘He’s in the front room, but don’t go upsetting him. He had a few beers last night, so he might have a hangover.’

‘Upsetting him! It’s me who’s bloody well upset!’

Her tone was shrill, but before Jenny could say anything her dad came bounding from the front room.

‘I thought I heard your fucking voice. If you’re hoping to see the kids, you can think again.’

‘No, actually, Henry,’ she said, smiling softly as she looked up at him, ‘it’s you I want to see.’

It appalled Jenny when her mum would try and use her feminine charms to soften her dad. It was obvious she was after something.

‘Oh yeah, what do you want to see me about?’ Henry asked.

‘Let’s go into the front room and have a chat,’ Lizzie suggested.

‘Yeah, all right.’

Jenny watched as her mother followed her father, throwing a smug grin over her shoulder as she left the kitchen. I hope she gets what she’s come for, Jenny thought, and doesn’t rile him. She finished cooking his breakfast, and once it was plated up, Jenny wondered whether she should take it through to him or keep it warm in the oven. Trouble was, the fried eggs would go hard, which would give her father another reason to kick off. She hadn’t yet heard any raised voices so decided to serve it up. She placed the plate on a tray then tapped gently on the front room door.

Her father was quick to shout, ‘What?’

As Jenny walked nervously into the room, balancing the tray, her father looked at her and said scathingly, ‘Your mother’s got some fucking nerve.’

‘Well, if it wasn’t for gobby there, I wouldn’t be in the situation I am now,’ Lizzie said, and raised her eyebrows at Jenny.

Jenny didn’t know what to say and wanted to flee from the room.

‘What’s Jenny got to do with anything?’ her father asked.

‘Last night she went and opened her big gob. She called me Mum, and that put me in this very difficult position. I hadn’t yet told my fella that I had kids and he chucked me out. Yeah, and come to that, Jenny, who was that bloke you were with?’

Jenny could feel her parents’ eyes boring into her, but her throat felt frozen with fear and she was unable to answer. Instead, she walked cautiously over to her dad to offer him the tray. To her utter shock, instead of taking it from her, he whacked the tray from underneath and sent it flying across the room. Greasy bacon and runny egg yolk slid down the faded wallpaper as the plate and tray crashed to the floor.

‘You’re taking the fucking piss out of me, Lizzie,’ he yelled. ‘This bloke chucked you out, you’re blaming Jenny for it, and now you’ve come here trying to tap me for money. Get out of my house, you money-grabbing whore!’

Her mother flinched but, as though she didn’t want to show any fear, she flicked her hair back defiantly then marched from the room. In a haughty voice, she called over her shoulder, ‘Fine. You can poke your rotten money where the sun don’t shine, Henry Lombard.’

As the front door slammed, Jenny stared at her father, petrified at what was coming.

‘That bitch left me with you five to look after and then has the front to come round here with her hand out asking for money. And what the fuck was she on about? Was you out with a man last night?’

Jenny nodded.

‘And you saw your mother?’

Again, she nodded.

‘Was the fancy bloke she was with a young ’un?’

Jenny went to nod yet again, but her father moved fast and placed his large calloused hand around her neck. She would have stumbled backwards but he had a tight grip of her. She could feel the blood rushing to her head.

‘Did you have a nice time, the four of you? Cosy, was it?’ he asked menacingly.

Jenny wanted to tell him that it wasn’t like that, but her father’s tightening hold was nearly choking her. She didn’t see it coming, but suddenly felt a searing hot pain across her face. He’d viciously slapped her, but he’d let go of her throat and she crumpled to the floor. She didn’t have time to curl into a foetal position before he began raining blows down on her. Her ribs, her arms, her head, her whole body felt under assault from his punishing punches and kicks.

‘You’re a fucking tart just like your mother,’ he screamed.

Jenny closed her eyes, but she couldn’t blot out the pain as blow after blow smashed into her already bruised body.

Finally spent, and gasping for breath, her father walked away, leaving her close to passing out and bleeding on the worn floorboards. Jenny felt as though she was drifting away, and the last thing she heard was the front door slamming before she sank into unconsciousness.

Gloria had passed her mother as she left the house. Lizzie had eyed her short skirt with disapproval, and Gloria had scuttled past, saying she was in a hurry. She carried on walking, but her conscience kept nagging at her to go back home. It was obvious that her mother was heading there, and wherever she went, so did trouble. If her mother infuriated her dad, she knew Jenny would end up being used as his punchbag.

Gloria was about to turn back, but then decided she was better off out of it, and safe from her father’s temper. She’d rather Jenny be getting it in the neck than her. Nearly twenty minutes later and close to Chestnut Grove, some impulse made her suddenly spin on her heels again and head home. If everything was all right, she could always go out for another walk, and anyway, she consoled herself, it was still a bit early and Dennis might not be about yet.

As Gloria hurried round a corner, she came face to face with her mother. She’d promised Jenny she wouldn’t say anything, but, worried about the chaos her mother had probably left behind, she couldn’t help herself and blurted, ‘Have you been to see me dad?’

‘Yeah, but it was a waste of time. The tight git.’

‘Can’t you just stay away, Mum? Every time you visit, you upset Dad, and when you leave one of us always gets a hiding. Do you even care that he beats Jenny because of you?’

‘Don’t be such a drama queen, Gloria. If he hits any of you, I’ve no doubt you deserved it. My father used to take the strap to me, it’s what dads do. It’s called discipline and it won’t do you any harm.’

‘It’s got nothing to do with telling us off! It’s Jenny that mostly gets the brunt of his temper and she doesn’t do anything to deserve it. Please, for her sake, for all our sakes, don’t visit us again.’

Gloria was stunned when her mother just glared at her and pushed past her without saying another word. It was obvious she didn’t care about them. Gloria picked up her pace and, just as she reached home, her father came steaming from the house. His face was contorted with rage and his eyes black. He didn’t so much as look at her as he passed, and Gloria instinctively knew he’d beaten Jenny again. She dashed up the short path to the front door, dropping her key in her haste. Once inside, she flew straight to the front room and looked down in horror at Jenny lying unconscious on the floor.

‘Pamela,’ she yelled. ‘Pamela, run up to the phone box and ring for an ambulance.’

Gloria dropped to her knees beside her sister and gently brushed Jenny’s hair from her bloodied face. ‘It’s all right,’ she soothed, ‘help will be here soon.’

Jenny groaned in pain and a knot formed in Gloria’s stomach. Her father had done this, inflicted these terrible injuries, and she hated him, detested him. Her mother might not have landed the punches, but she’d played a part in this, and she hated her too.

Once again Jenny cried out, and Gloria’s eyes filled with tears. This was the worst she’d ever seen it. Her sister looked in a bad way – a very bad way, and she feared that this time Jenny wouldn’t pull through.