A Daughter's Disgrace (19 page)

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Authors: Kitty Neale

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Cora had a sudden flashback to Fred in the dancehalls when they’d been young and she’d started courting Jack. He’d been a keen dancer then and had known all the steps. Of course things were different now; the teenagers liked rock and roll. But Fred could keep up with any of them. She hoped he wasn’t going to swing Alison round to ‘Rock Around the Clock’. With her huge bump she’d probably fall over.

Alison was in another new outfit, with a little jacket that had fancy piping around the edges that matched the colour of her pretty pointy shoes. Cora sighed. Fred was treating her well, just like he’d promised. She had to admit the new hairstyle and smart clothes made a difference. She wasn’t ashamed to be seen with her youngest daughter any more, but she wished that telltale bump wasn’t so obvious, or at least not yet. The church stewards had clearly been shocked but hadn’t wanted to show it. Stuff them, Cora thought suddenly. Let them think what they liked. This day belonged to Hazel and she made a lovely bride. All eyes were on her as Neville smooched with her to an Elvis love song.

‘Well done, Cora.’ Jill came across to pull up a chair beside her. ‘We did all right, didn’t we? They look so happy. Made for each other.’ Jill quickly wiped away a tear. Now the excitement was over she felt very weepy again.

‘Yes, they make a perfect pair.’ Cora wasn’t weeping. She was happy for Hazel, but was looking forward to having the house to herself – or at least after Linda, Terry and June left tomorrow. ‘Those dresses look a treat. We’ll soon have all the photos to look forward to – I hope they turn out all right.’

Jill nodded, twisting her hanky in her hands, as Bill danced in front of them with Kathy in her gorgeous turquoise frock. She was pleased with the way it had all gone. She should be glad that Neville was so fortunate. Maybe Kathy would be next? But no, she reminded herself. Kathy looked happy enough to dance with Bill but he’d never meet her exacting standards. It would take a very special man to distract her from her career.

A shout went up. The car had arrived to take Hazel and Neville to the hotel, and everyone gathered round to see them off. Cora allowed herself to be pushed to the front and beamed with pride as Hazel hugged her.

‘Thanks for everything, Mum. It’s been a truly special day.’

‘You go and enjoy yourself,’ Cora said. ‘You deserve a bit of fun, my girl. You worked hard for this. You have a lovely time and we’ll see you soon.’

Hazel waved and disappeared into the back seat of the car, followed by Neville, as his friends heckled him.

Jill had another quick sob as she watched them go. Her little boy, all grown up. How had it happened so fast? It seemed like only yesterday that he’d been born. However, before she could dwell on it, Richie was at her elbow.

‘We don’t have to go yet, do we?’ he asked. ‘It’s only just getting started. Did you see how Bill danced with Kathy? Do you think she’ll go out with him?’

‘You can forget about that, your sister’s far too sensible,’ Jill told him. ‘But no, we don’t have to go yet. Just don’t put on anything too noisy. Remember we’re not all as young as you.’

Richie raced off and put on Bill Haley. Fred was first out on the dance floor.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Hazel lay on her back, gazing up at the ornate ceiling in the moonlight. Neville snored beside her. She’d just had the biggest disappointment of her life.

It had begun so well. Marian’s sister had greeted them with the news that the evening meal was on the house, and once they’d freshened up she’d shown them to the best table, nestled in a bay window overlooking the park. The cutlery shone in the candlelight and they could hear birds singing through the open window. Hazel suddenly found she was starving, having eaten very little apart from cold chicken all day. She and Neville had three courses of the most delicious food and even had wine with it, which she decided she liked better than sherry. It was the most romantic evening she had ever had.

Then her new husband had kissed her hand and led her up the stairs. Their room was perfect, spacious and with gilt-framed mirrors and elegant lamps, with a big soft bed in the centre. No danger of anyone overhearing them here, Hazel realised with delight. This was how married life should begin. With a secret smile she edged into the bathroom to change into the satin nightdress she’d saved up for. It was peach-coloured, with lots of lace around the edges. She stroked the fabric as she smoothed it over her body. She was so excited she almost tore it as she tugged down the hem. If she had her way it wouldn’t stay on for long.

Neville was waiting for her, stretched out on the bed in his suit trousers and wedding shirt, which he’d undone. ‘Come here,’ he breathed, his eyes shining with appreciation. ‘Oh my God, Hazel, I’ve waited for this moment since I first saw you.’

‘Mmmm, me too.’ She lay beside him and reached for him, drawing him down to her neck. He kissed it then kissed her face, gently and then more forcefully, his breath getting faster and faster. She could feel him pulling down the straps of her nightdress, exposing her breasts, kissing them, pulling up the hem, reaching between her legs. She thought she would burst with excitement. He had struggled out of his trousers and she helped him off with his shirt. ‘Oh Neville, yes, yes, yes. Come on, I want you.’ She held him tightly, but then gasped in pain as he suddenly thrust himself inside her. It soon passed and she started to moan in pleasure.

Then, nothing. He stopped moving. ‘Neville, what is it? Is something wrong?’ She tried to sit up but he had collapsed on top of her, pinning her to the bed. ‘Neville, what’s going on?’

He rolled over and turned away. ‘Sorry. I’m so sorry. I must have had a bit too much to drink or something.’ She could tell he was embarrassed. ‘It won’t be like that next time.’

She realised her legs were wet and slimy. ‘Neville? What do you mean?’

But he wouldn’t look at her. After a while he began to snore, leaving her to cross the gorgeous room to the elegant bathroom, where she cleaned herself up. She caught sight of herself in the mirror.

Her hair was dishevelled and her lovely nightdress was rumpled and to her eyes now looked cheap. She pulled it round so it was less noticeable. Was something wrong with her? Had she said something, done something? If so she didn’t know what it was.

She went back to the bed and crawled under the covers, trying to work out what had happened. Neville had got it up all right but then had finished almost at once. Why hadn’t he carried on, when she was having such a good time? She’d saved herself for this, had dreamed of this, and all for nothing. What a let down.

Shaking with disappointment, she rolled over and stared at the silhouette of the window. What a waste of all these fancy surroundings. They might as well have stayed at their new flat if that was all Neville could manage.

Cora had allowed Fred to get her a few drinks at the reception and now she was home Terry had poured her a port and lemon. She felt quite tipsy, but very pleased. When all was said and done, the day couldn’t have gone better. Hazel had been a radiant bride, Neville a handsome groom and the bridesmaids were beautiful. As for Fred, he’d turned into the life and soul of the party. He’d even got some of the more staid church members up on their feet and dancing, wiping their sour expressions off their faces. Cora could have hugged him with relief. Now they’d be less likely to gossip about Alison behind her back. One had even come over to her to praise him. ‘I can quite see what your daughter saw in your son-in-law,’ she’d whispered. ‘If I was forty years younger myself … Not that I approve, you understand, but these things will happen. What a pleasure it must be to have someone like that in your family.’

Talk about a turn-up for the books. Cora sipped her drink, watching as Linda poured herself a very small sherry. ‘I think I might go upstairs,’ she said. ‘You and Terry stay up as long as you like. I’m out for the count. I’ve been running round like a blue-arsed fly these last few days and now it’s all catching up with me.’

Linda looked up, thinking it was more a case of several port and lemons catching up with her. ‘Yes, you do that. We won’t be long.’

Terry came through from the kitchen, a bottle of beer in his hand. ‘I’ll just have this, the rewards of giving the bride away.’ He grinned at them both. ‘I wonder what they’re up to now. Making the most of that posh hotel bed, I hope.’

‘Terry!’ Linda pretended to swipe his arm. She hated it when he spoke like that in front of her mother.

‘Well, maybe they are,’ said Cora generously. ‘Bit of time to themselves after all the pressures of the big day. Just as long as it don’t give them a taste for luxuries beyond their means.’ She stiffly raised herself from the armchair. ‘Good night, then. See you in the morning.’ She tottered unsteadily to the stairs and began to climb.

Terry stretched out on the rug in front of the unlit fire, resting his head against Linda’s legs.

‘What are you doing down there?’ she demanded. ‘There’s a perfectly good chair over here, you know. You’ll get dirt over your good suit and who’s going to get that clean?’

‘I’ll take it off if that’s any better.’ He smiled up at her. ‘Come down here and join me.’

‘Terry, I can’t do that!’

‘Course you can.’ He reached up for her hand. ‘Come down here and let’s have some fun. I was staring at you all day in that posh dress. I could have ripped it off you in front of everybody.’

‘Glad you didn’t,’ said Linda, but she was weakening. She knew she shouldn’t but what harm would it do? ‘Quiet, Terry, what if Mum hears us?’

‘She’s had that many port and lemons, she wouldn’t hear a bomb go off next to her head,’ he said. ‘And what if she does hear something? We ain’t single. We’re a respectable old married couple.’ He pulled her gently down onto the rug. ‘You were the most gorgeous creature there today, do you know that? And you’re mine, all mine. Let me show you how much I love you.’

‘I think I can feel that,’ giggled Linda.

‘You certainly can. Wouldn’t it be funny if we made June a baby brother or sister right here on your mum’s old rug?’

‘I’d never be able to tell anybody,’ she said, pulling off his trousers.

‘Maybe not,’ he breathed, ‘but we’d know, wouldn’t we?’

Alison put her feet up on the delicate little three-legged stool that Fred had found specially for her. She was finding her legs ached more and more as the bump grew bigger. God knows what they would be like by the time it was full size. She flopped against the padded back of the sofa, glad to be home. She shook herself at the thought. She’d called this place home in her head. Maybe she was getting used to it.

‘Do you want a milky drink?’ Fred asked. She’d expected him to be tired out after the long day, particularly as he’d been dancing so much, but instead he seemed livelier than ever. She’d noticed there’d been no sign of his wheezing. Maybe dancing was good for you. The grumpy old ladies had certainly seemed to enjoy it.

‘No, you go ahead and have one.’ She smiled weakly up at him.

‘Do you know, I think I might have a drop of Scotch,’ he said. ‘After all, it’s a special day, isn’t it? Not often your sister gets married.’

‘Not often you get a chance to dance with half the seventy-year-olds in Battersea either.’

‘You didn’t mind, did you?’ Then he realised she was teasing. ‘Well, I thought it wouldn’t do any harm. They was sitting there, faces like lemons, they needed a bit of help to get into the party spirit. I was only doing my bit.’

‘Very kind of you.’ She rolled her ankles from side to side. ‘I couldn’t have been on my feet a moment longer. But I’m glad I didn’t deprive you of your fun.’

He sipped at his whisky and nodded. ‘No, it was a good day. I hope it’s the start of a happy future for them. Who knows, it might make your sister a bit kinder.’

Alison raised her eyebrows. ‘Not sure how that would happen. Hazel’s Hazel.’

He sat down beside her. ‘I know, I know. But it might … I don’t know. This is the whisky talking. I just thought, having a proper bit of loving in her life might soften her a little. Make her less inclined to hit out. Sorry, I’m being a soft old sod.’

‘Neville’s got his work cut out to make her happy,’ Alison predicted. ‘She won’t be content with that flat for long. You think Mum’s harsh when she says some of those things about Hazel but she’s right. My sister likes the good things in life.’

‘I can’t blame her for that,’ said Fred, gazing round the living room that Alison had begun to add little touches to.

Alison shrugged. She did like the comforts that came with living with Fred. She loved the fact that everything was new, unlike the depressing worn-out stuff in her mother’s house that had been poor quality to start with. She liked the way the toaster worked without her having to fiddle with the plug, that there was hot water whenever she wanted it, that there was a proper bath and no more old tin tub. It seemed crazy that there was another room on the top floor with a shower in it – and yet she was getting used to all this luxury fast. She loved the items that made life easier. They just weren’t the main thing. Fred provided for her in the material sense but more than that, he gave her confidence and she was beginning to feel that she could be herself. The flat and the furnishings and the money were extras. It was different for Hazel, and suddenly she had the feeling that something would go badly wrong for her sister. She shivered.

‘You cold?’ asked Fred, immediately on his feet. ‘Shall I get you something?’

Alison smiled. ‘No, I’m all right. But I think I’ll turn in.’ She heaved herself to her feet and faced him. ‘See you in the morning. We’ve got that delivery of pork arriving first thing, remember.’

She headed for the room Fred had first put her in that night he’d found her in the churchyard. It was hers now. She’d begun to buy things for it that were to her taste, knowing Hazel would have given her eye teeth for soft bedding and new furniture, but they didn’t really matter. The main thing was she was safe here. Nobody would call her names, insult her, attack her in the street. This was her haven, a room facing the backyard of the butcher’s shop.

She hoped Hazel felt as safe in the arms of her new husband, but she couldn’t shake off the sensation that something terrible was going to happen.

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