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Authors: Kitty Neale

BOOK: A Broken Family
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Chapter Seventeen

On Friday afternoon, Tommy was pleased with how the day had gone. He was happy with Len’s work and the two of them got on well together. However, as soon as he walked indoors after work it was like being confronted by a mad woman instead of his mother

and the smile instantly dropped from his face.

He was unable to get a word in as she ranted and raved, though when he did get the chance it wouldn’t be to put up with her demands.

‘Did you hear me, Thomas? I said you’re not seeing that girl again!’

‘I could hardly
fail
to hear you,’ he replied. ‘But unlike you, I don’t blame Amy for Rose’s behaviour and I
will
be seeing her again. In fact, I’m taking her out tonight.’

‘You are
not
!’

‘I’m not a child that you can dictate to now. I’m a grown man and I can see who I want, go where I want to, and even find a place of my own.’

Shocked, his mother stared at him, blinked, and then came the tears. ‘You’re going to leave me … just … just like your father.’

Tommy found that though he was able to stand up to his mother when she was in a temper and making demands, he was hopeless when she started crying. ‘Mum, I didn’t say that. I was just pointing out that if I wanted to leave home, I could.’

‘I … I couldn’t bear it if you left me too,’ Celia said in a small voice.

He could have told his mother that when he got married he’d want a place of his own, yet knew she wasn’t ready to hear that yet. He began to wonder if she ever would. For now though he had to make a stand and said, ‘I don’t want to leave home, but you’ve got to accept that I’m not going
to stop see
ing Amy.’

The handkerchief came out and she wiped her eyes, silent for a while, but then at last she drew in a breath. ‘It seems I’ll have to, but don’t expect me to welcome her into my home.’

‘You haven’t so far, so that won’t make a lot of difference,’ he said, only just managing to keep the sarcasm from his tone. ‘Now I’m going to have a wash and change my clothes.’

With that Tommy left the room, glad again to get away from the rollercoaster of his mother’s emotions.

Celia was left feeling that she’d been blackmailed by her own son. The threat had been there; if she tried to stop Thomas from seeing Amy, he’d leave home. She’d been left with little choice, at least for now, but one day in the future she hoped to find a way to come between that tart and her son.

Amy’s mother was just as bad, Celia thought, lying when she said she didn’t know where her cousin was. Of course she knew, and no doubt Amy did too. Well, that was something she’d talk to Thomas about. At least he’d be able to get that information from Amy and when he did, she’d be able to confront George. She needed to vent her feelings, to tell George just what she thought of him, and that tart he’d left her for would feel the sting of her hand across her face.

That thought made Celia feel a little better, and when her son came downstairs to find his dinner ready and on the table, she had a story in place. She waited until they were both seated and then said, ‘Thomas, I don’t feel I can move on with my life until I can ask your father for a divorce.’

‘Don’t you think it’s too soon to think about divorce? Dad might realise he’s made a mistake and come home.’

‘I’d slam the door in his face! After leaving me for
that common woman, I’d never take him back!’ Celia snapped.

‘Are you sure, Mum? Divorce seems so … so final.’

Celia took a deep breath, endeavouring to sound calm. ‘Yes, I’m sure, Thomas. The problem is, I don’t know how to contact your father. As he left with a cousin of her mother’s, Amy must know where they are, so when you see her tonight, would you ask her for their address?’

‘I can ask her, but I doubt she’ll know.’

‘At least try,’ Celia urged.

Thomas agreed and then tucked into his food, while Celia just picked at hers. After all she had faced that day she had no appetite, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get George’s betrayal out of her mind. It was then she remembered something and asked, ‘Thomas, did you bring the account books home?’

‘No, sorry, I forgot, but as I told you they’re up to date, so you don’t have to worry about them.’

‘It isn’t that I’m worried. I just need something to do, something to take my mind off your father. It will at least help me to
feel
that I’m of some use.’

Thomas quietly ate his food, but at last he said, ‘All right, Mum. You can take over the accounts, but there’s little for you to do yet.’

‘Thank you, darling,’ Celia said. It was a start, but in the future she hoped to gain control of all their finances.

Amy arrived home a little later than usual, and as dinner was ready she’d have to eat it before going to see Carol. Now though, she was listening to her mother, aghast as she continued, ‘Not only did the woman barge in demanding to know where Rose is; she called me a liar and a tart!’

Before Amy could react, her father said angrily, ‘I’m not going to let her get away with that.’

‘It’s all right, Stan. I dealt with it. I chucked her out.’

‘She called you a tart and deserves more than that. If Celia Frost was a man I’d knock her off her feet.’

‘Well she isn’t, and as I said, I dealt with it. Now come on, Amy, give me a hand in the kitchen.’

Amy shared her father’s anger that Celia Frost had called her mother a tart, and as she followed her into the kitchen, she said, ‘I didn’t think it would be long before the truth came out. Tommy wasn’t going to tell his mother yet, but now that the gossip has reached her she had no right to barge in here like that.’

‘You’re right, but the fact that it got out is my fault, Amy; well, partially. I’m sorry, love, but when Mabel heard some gossip about Rose I assumed it was about her running off with George Frost. As I thought Mabel knew I started talking about it, but it wasn’t what she’d heard. Of course, it was too late then, but Mabel promised to keep it to herself. I should have known better

Mabel couldn’t keep her mouth shut and broke that promise, but I’m finished with her. I told her that she’ll never be welcome in my house again.’

‘Mum, you’ve been friends for years; there was no need for that. I told Tommy the truth and he was going to tell his mum. She just got to hear about it a bit earlier, that’s all.’

‘Mabel still betrayed my trust.’

‘She thrives on gossip and you must have known she wouldn’t be able to keep it to herself,’ Amy pointed out.

‘I don’t want to talk about Mabel any more. There’s something else I need to tell you, but it’s not for your father’s ears. You saw how he reacted when I said that Celia Frost called me a tart, well he’d go potty if I owned up that she called you a tart too. Not only that, she told me to keep you away from her son as she doesn’t want him tainted by the likes of you.’

Amy was dumbfounded and once again she found herself gawking at her mother. ‘I … I’m supposed to be seeing Tommy tonight.’

‘If his mother’s got anything to do with it, you won’t be, and if you ask me it’s probably for the best.’

‘I can’t stand her, but I … I really like Tommy.’

Her mother sighed, ‘That may be, but as your dad and me have said before, you should think long and hard about what sort of future you’d have with him. You could end up with Celia Frost as your mother-in-law, and do you really want that? Now, dwell on what I’ve said and in the meantime take your dad’s dinner through to him. I’ll bring ours.’

Amy did think about it while she was eating. She had sensed that Celia Frost didn’t like her and had been intimidated by her haughty and superior manner, but now it was as if the worm had turned and Amy was angry. Celia Frost had called her mother a tart, had labelled
her as on
e too, and at last Amy came to a decision. If Tommy came to take her out later she would have a few things to say to him. It tore Amy up to think it might
be the
end of their relationship, yet she had to speak her mind.

‘Amy, I went to see Daphne Cole and Carol today.’

‘Are they all right?’ she asked, her thoughts turning swiftly to her friend.

‘Daphne wasn’t there. She’s gone to look after a sick aunt, but I’m worried about Carol. She still looks really ill, and upset about something, though she wouldn’t tell me what the problem is. Maybe she’ll talk to you.’

‘I’ll go along to see her,’ Amy said and, anxious about Carol, she bolted down the rest of her dinner.

Frank Cole was a worried and angry man as once again he had to go out to buy a takeaway meal. He was sick of fish and chips, and this time decided on a longer walk to the pie and mash shop. He’d arrived home to find his daughter dozing on the sofa, still in her nightclothes and the housework untouched. He’d left her the money to get some food in, but she hadn’t been outside the house and at first he’d done his nut, only to backtrack when Carol had curled into a ball, sobbing.

He didn’t know what to do, how to cope with her,
and just hoped she’d pull herself together soon. Frank decided that what he needed was a stiff drink, and breaking his journey he called in at the Park Tavern. There were several men in there, all still in their work clothes and obviously having a couple of drinks before they headed home.

‘Watcha, Frank,’ the landlord said. ‘What can I get you?’

‘A pint of bitter, please.’

‘Coming up,’ he said, pulling the pump. ‘I don’t suppose you know of anyone looking for a bit of bar work do you?’

‘No, sorry.’

‘Well if you do, head them in my direction. I’ve been left in a fix since my barmaid, Rose, went off with George Frost.’

‘You’re kidding! This is the first I’ve heard about it.’

‘It’s a fact, though I only found out why Rose really left when the gossip reached me,’ he said, then moving away to serve another customer.

Frank took a long drink then wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. He had too many problems of his own to show any interest in Rose and George Frost.

Still, he thought, at least it would keep the gossips busy and with any luck they’d be too occupied to question the story that Daphne had gone to look after a fictitious aunt in Kent. It would keep them at bay for now – yet for how long?

Amy could see why her mum was worried. Carol looked awful and had obviously been crying. She was in her nightclothes, her hair lank, and sitting next to her, Amy could smell her body odour. She said that her dad had gone out to get them something to eat, and worriedly Amy said, ‘Carol, I don’t think they should have let you leave the hospital. You still look really ill.’

‘I’m all right.’

‘You don’t look well enough to come back to work, but Mrs Jones won’t be able to keep your job open unless you’ve got a sick note.’

‘I’m not coming back. I’m handing in my notice.’

Shocked and upset, Amy asked, ‘But why?’

‘My mum’s gone to … to look after a sick relative and until she comes back, I’m needed at home. There’s the housework, cooking and …’ Carol’s voice trailed off as though she didn’t have the energy to carry on.

‘I know you’ll hate being stuck at home. Is that why you’ve been crying?’

‘No … Yes … Oh, please, Amy, stop asking me
questions.’

‘I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m worried about you.’

‘Well don’t be. I’ve had food poisoning that’s all, and it’s left me a bit drained. Now, my dad will be back soon so I’d better lay the table,’ Carol said as she slowly, but pointedly rose to her feet.

Though Amy could see how pale her friend looked, Carol’s tone felt like a dismissal and she reluctantly stood up too. ‘All right, but if you need anything …’

‘I’ll let you know,’ Carol finished for her.

‘I’ll call in again to see you tomorrow.’

‘Don’t do that. There’s no need,’ Carol said, her eyes dull and her tone cold.

Amy’s stomach lurched. They had been friends for so long, shared so many confidences, but now it felt as though Carol was treating her like an unwelcome stranger. Like her mother, Amy felt that there was more to Carol’s state of mind than food poisoning and she tried again. ‘Carol, I know you’re still ill, but if there’s something else worrying you, please, let me help.’

‘I’m sick of this. I said I’m fine and I don’t need you pestering me. Go away and leave me alone.’

‘Carol, you can’t mean that!’

There was no reaction to Amy’s plea, just cold words as Carol said, ‘And shut the door behind you.’

Too choked to speak now, Amy reluctantly left. Yet no matter what Carol said, or how many times she tried to dismiss her, Amy wasn’t going to give up. Something dreadful must have happened to turn Carol into this cold stranger, and when she was ready to talk about it, Amy was going to be there for her friend.

Chapter Eighteen

Stan had been deep in thought and he’d hardly listened when Amy came back from seeing Carol, although she and Phyllis had yammered on about it for ages.

Now though Phyllis was at work, and Amy was upstairs getting ready to go out with Tommy. When the young man turned up Stan was determined to have his say and only five minutes later there was a knock at the door. He let Tommy in, and with Amy still upstairs, Stan said sternly, ‘Now then, Tommy, I’m not happy about your mother barging in here earlier today and insulting my wife.’

‘She did what?’ he asked, looking shocked.

‘You heard me. Your mother wanted to know where Rose is, and when my wife couldn’t tell her she called her a tart. I’m not putting up with that.’

‘Mr Miller, I’m sorry, but this is all news to me. I arrived home to find my mother in a terrible state because she had found out about my dad and … and Rose, but she didn’t say anything about coming here.’

‘Yeah, well, she did, and if it wasn’t for my wife I’d have been up at your place giving your mother a piece of my mind.’

‘I’ll speak to her,’ Tommy said quickly. ‘I’ll see it doesn’t happen again.’

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