Cross My Heart and Hope to Die (14 page)

We could hear a car coming up the lane, and we assumed it was going to the farm, but instead it slowed to a stop. Mum interrupted herself: ‘Who's that?'

‘Andy Crackjaw, I suppose,' I said absently. I'd just got to the bit in the serial where the doctor's firm mouth comes down on the nurse's and she wonders why her senses are in such a tumult. ‘He seems to be doing all right these days.'

‘He was home a couple of weeks ago,' said Mum. ‘It's not like him to come again so soon.'

Dad, who was nearest the window, got up to look. ‘Oh, no –' he groaned. ‘It's your Brenda and her family. They must've bought a car and come to show it off.'

Mum and I rushed to the window. Sure enough, there was her youngest sister, with a small girl on her knee, peering and waving from the front passenger seat. Two older boys were jumping up and down in the back.

‘Ooh, that little devil Brenda …' Red-faced with vexation, Mum struggled out of her disreputable cardigan and shoved it out of sight under the cushion of her easy chair. ‘Fancy them coming unexpected, and us in our dirt! Get that table cleared quick, oh, what a mess this place is in.'

Dad and I hadn't waited to be told. I was already ferrying the dirty crockery out to the kitchen. He bundled up the plastic tablecloth, still with the pepper and salt pots and all the crumbs inside, and shoved that and the scattered newspapers and a couple of pairs of slippers on to the stairs, and shut the door on them. Mum lugged the laden clothes-horse into the corner behind the door. By the time Brenda and the children had made their way up the front path and round to the back, Dad and I were washing up and Mum had covered her old blouse and skirt with a more or less clean nylon overall.

‘Well, our Bren,' she said as she stood holding the door open, smoothing down her hair with the other hand, ‘what a lovely surprise, we are glad to see you. Come in, you must excuse the mess, hello Darren, hello Lyndon, what big boys you are, and little Samantha, I haven't seen her since she was a tiny baby and she must be nearly two, come to your Auntie Betty then, what a little dear she is.'

Mum hurried them through the kitchen, Brenda vexingly slim in a tight skirt and high heels, the little girl pretty in frilled nylon, the boys overdressed in miniature suits with long trousers and bow ties. Dad and I, mumbling greetings with inane grins on our faces, stood side by side to hide the dirty crockery as they passed the sink. Brenda's seedy-looking husband slouched after them and I said, ‘Hello Ray,' as brightly as I could.

‘How do, Janet.' He sounded thoroughly fed up. ‘Vince.' The two men nodded at each other coolly and we all crowded into the living-room. There weren't nearly enough chairs so we stood looking at each other while Mum chattered wildly, trying to distract attention from the unswept floor and the dust. When she'd said, ‘This
is
a nice surprise,' three times running, and paused for breath, Brenda got a word in.

The sisters weren't a bit alike, though you could see from the roots of Brenda's blond bubble-curls that she'd been born as dark as Mum. She and Ray lived near Saintsbury and both of them, with help from Ray's mother in looking after the children, had good jobs at the turkey factory there. We didn't see much of them, thank heaven, partly because they always seemed to be working overtime, but also because they hadn't been mobile until now.

‘We were just out for a run in the car,' said Brenda grandly, ‘and Ray said, “Why don't we go to Byland and see your Bet?”' Ray looked indignant, but she bored on before he could deny it. ‘So I said, “What a lovely idea,” I said, “it would be nice to see them again.” Sorry to take you by surprise, we'd have phoned if only you'd got one. It makes all the difference, having a phone.'

‘Oh, we like unexpected visitors,' said Mum. ‘A real nice surprise.'

We all stood about wondering what to say next.

‘How do you like the car, then?' said Brenda.

‘Very nice, I'm sure,' said Mum. Brenda insisted on our going out to look at it, so we all trailed outside, Mum carrying the little girl to keep her white shoes out of the mud.

‘Is it new?' Mum asked as we stood looking at the car. It was a typical Mum question, everybody knows they haven't made those bulbous two-colour cars for years. Anyway, you could see rust at the bottom of the doors.

‘Nearly new,' said Brenda.

‘Looks in good nick, Ray,' Dad offered, but Ray ignored him and rubbed at a splash of mud on the bonnet.

‘Not with your hanky,' snapped Brenda. ‘Here, there's a duster in the glove compartment.' She opened the front passenger door with a flourish and we peered dutifully inside. The two boys pushed their way on to the driving seat, showing off, and one of them thumped the horn. Ray ordered them out. I glanced at next door, and saw several bullet-headed little Crackjaws at their window, gaping.

‘Have a sit in it,' Brenda urged Mum, but she wasn't keen on playing the poor relation.

‘I've sat in cars before,' she said.

Brenda nudged Ray. ‘And been taken for a ride, an' all,' she murmured, but Mum was too busy talking to Samantha to hear. Dad and I both declined to sit in the car, and we all trailed back to the house.

‘Can we stay out and play?' asked Darren, the seven-year-old.

‘Not in your best,' snapped their mother.

‘When's tea, then?'

‘You wait until you've been invited,' growled Ray.

‘Well, of course you're invited,' said Mum, looking worried. I could see her mentally reviewing the contents of the larder and I knew as well as she did that we hadn't got enough to go round.

‘Oh no, don't bother about tea for us!' Brenda sounded shocked at the very idea. ‘We wouldn't dream of putting you about.'

‘It's no trouble. You're ever so welcome, you know that. A lovely surprise –'

‘The match is on at three,' said Ray, cheering up. ‘You watching it, Vince? No, you wouldn't be …' He pushed his way over to the television set. ‘Bloody hell, you've got a real museum piece here.'

Mum was vexed. ‘Do you mind, Ray Lummis! That was our poor mother's telly, given her by the last lady she worked for.'

‘I wonder that old set still goes,' said Brenda, sitting in Mum's chair with Samantha on her knee and the boys perched one on each of the wooden arms. ‘We've got a twenty-four-inch slimline, don't take up half the room.'

I almost expected Mum to say, “Beggars can't be choosers,” but that was obviously for family consolation only. ‘It does us very well,' she snapped.

Ray turned up the volume, and settled himself in Dad's easy chair. ‘Got any beer, Vince? No, you wouldn't have. Go out to the car, Darren, and fetch us a couple of bottles from the boot.'

Looking defeated. Dad made up the fire and sat on one of the hard chairs at the table. Mum nodded at me meaningfully: ‘You did say you were going to the village this afternoon, didn't you, Janet?'

I took the hint. I couldn't go round to Gran Thacker's back door for groceries on her half-day, she'd have bawled me out, but Mr Timpson at the top shop was always open on Saturday afternoons. ‘Yes, I'm going to see a friend,' I said for Brenda's benefit.

She wasn't deceived. ‘You mustn't get anything special for us,' she cried above a roar from the crowd at the football match.

‘No, I shan't,' Mum mouthed, ‘you must take us as you find us.' She followed me out to the kitchen and we had a rare moment of unity as we grumbled about our unwelcome visitors.

‘I'm ever so sorry to send you out again, lovey.'

‘Doesn't matter, I'd rather go than stay. What am I to get?'

Mum opened the door to the larder under the stairs, and did a quick check. ‘A big sliced loaf, for a start, and half a pound of butter. I've got a small can of fruit for our tea tomorrow but it won't be enough for today, better get a big can of peaches. And a jar of salmon spread.'

‘What about cake?' I opened the tin and estimated the size of what was left of a swiss roll. ‘This'll never go round eight of us.'

‘See if he's got any of them individual fancy cakes, then. Just get half a dozen, we shall have to eat small. Here's my purse, there should be enough in it.'

‘I've got the money Miss Massingham gave me, if it's any more.'

‘Thanks, lovey, I'll pay you back later.'

The door opened and Brenda put her head into the kitchen. Mum and I both started guiltily.

‘If Janet's going out, would she mind taking the boys for a walk? They get fed up watching telly.'

‘'Course she won't mind,' said Mum, but I certainly did.

‘I'm going on my bike.'

‘Well, you can just walk for a change,' Mum snapped.

‘It's going to rain. They'll get wet,' I threatened, but the women ignored me. Brenda called the two boys and pushed them into their anoraks.

‘You're going to go for a walk with your cousin Janet,' she said. The bigger boy burped aggressively. ‘Don't
do
that, Darren. How many times do I have to tell you?'

‘Bless them,' said Mum indulgently, thankful to see the back of them. ‘Janet will buy you some sweets. Buy them some sweets, Janet.'

‘Only if they behave,' I said, putting on my own anorak. ‘Come on, then, if you're coming.'

‘I want to go to the toilet,' said five-year-old Lyndon, so I took them both down to the end of the garden. Darren came out holding his nose. ‘
We've
got an upstairs bathroom,' he said.

‘So've we,' I said, ‘but we don't let other people use it.' And I walked so fast to the top shop that they had to trot to keep up, scuffling about behind me all the way.

I'd never gone to the top shop before. There was no reason why I should. Apart from drapery, which his shop was too small to stock, Mr Timpson sold the same things as Gran Thacker did, so we were rivals.

A few people, like loud-mouthed Mrs Farrow, didn't mind which of the two shops they went to, but in general Mr Timpson had his customers and we had ours. This segregation had nothing to do with convenience. It went back to a village feud all of fifty years ago, when the Thackers and the Timpsons fell out and the rest of the village took sides. As a result, some people would go without food sooner than darken Gran's doors, and others would be so fixated on going to Gran's that they'd walk past the top shop even in pouring rain, so it was a real embarrassment for me to have to go to there.

The shop was full. It would be. When I arrived with the boys there was a great stirring of interest and a nudging among the waiting customers.

‘Looks as if you've got unexpected company, Janet.'

‘Five of them, Mrs Yaxford,' I agreed, trying to indicate that it was a greater invasion than any family could reasonably be expected to cater for without notice.

‘Ah, that'll be your Mum's sister Brenda.' Nosy old woman. I just nodded, and tried to interest Darren and Lyndon in a poster advertising cat food.

‘Soon be leaving school, Janet?' That was Mrs Jermy, nudging Mrs Yaxford as she said it.

‘At Christmas.'

I knew what was coming next. They all knew perfectly well what I was going to do, it had been chewed over in the village for long enough, but now they'd got me cornered they meant to embarrass me as much as possible.

‘You'll be getting a job at last, then?'

‘Just a temporary one.'

‘Janet isn't going to do an ordinary job,' said Mrs Yaxford, mock-impressed. ‘
She's
going to college.'

‘Well, I never!' said Mrs Jermy, mock-surprised. ‘And there's our Julie, younger than her, getting married next summer. And been out earning for three years.'

‘Ah, it's nice when they're out earning. Got plenty of independence, mine have, like yours. Don't want to sponge on their parents any longer than they can help.'

‘Mind you,' Mrs Jermy conceded, ‘it takes all sorts. I dare say some are brainier than others.'

‘That's true. Though wherever Janet gets it from, we know it can't be the Thacker side of the family.'

The two women sniggered behind their hands, overcome by their own wit. Lyndon hauled at my skirt. ‘I want a lolly.'

‘You'll have to wait,' I snapped, taking my irritation out on him. Mrs Yaxford must have thought she'd gone too far because she turned to me quite graciously. ‘Seeing as you've got company, Janet, you can go ahead of me.'

Mrs Jermy agreed, and I was certainly grateful. I didn't want to be there any longer than I could help. I thanked them, and moved up to the counter as soon as the previous customer left. Unfortunately, Mrs Yaxford and Mrs Jermy were now standing behind me with their ears flapping, and I felt defensive on behalf of Mum's housekeeping because I knew my order would sound as though we hadn't any food in the house at all.

I wished Mr Timpson a polite ‘Good afternoon,' and keeping my voice as low as possible asked for half a pound of butter.

He smirked. ‘I expect you'll want the best?'

I'd forgotten that he wouldn't know which brand we had. We always bought the cheapest, but I wasn't going to say so in front of that lot.

‘What about our sweets?' interrupted Darren.

‘Wait a minute! Yes please, Mr Timpson – and a large sliced loaf.' I worked my way through the tea menu while the boys worried at my heels. The fact was that I daren't commit myself to buying them anything because I didn't know how much there was in Mum's purse, and I'd just remembered that I'd left Miss Massingham's two pound notes on the mantelpiece. I was afraid I wouldn't have enough money and I couldn't possibly ask Mr Timpson for credit, especially with the two women listening.

‘Have you any fancy cakes, please?'

Mr Timpson pointed to a tray at the far end of the counter. He bought his cakes from a baker in the next village but Gran Thacker wouldn't have them in her shop, she said the bakehouse was full of beetles. The cakes were sticky, bright pinks and yellows and greens decorated with shreds of coconut and whorls of artificial cream. I thought it might shut the boys up if I let them choose their cakes, so I lifted Lyndon. ‘Which one would you like for your tea?'