Family Drama 4 E-Book Bundle (156 page)

He examined it carefully. ‘Nice piece, Regency, family? I can’t give you more than two guineas for it. There’s not much call for big stuff.’ He sighed over his half-moon glasses.

She knew and he knew it was worth a lot more but she nodded. ‘Don’t sell it. I’ll be back for it,’ she smiled, taking the cash quickly, trying not to gasp at what she had just done. It was so disloyal, but needs must…

‘That’s what they all say, young lady. Now I have a shop full of stuff I can’t sell,’ he whispered.

The coins were burning through her purse. It was just about opening time and if she trawled enough off-licences she might get herself a full bottle of whisky and some halves. There were one or two places to avoid, for they sold duff bottles, watered down with God knew what; she dreaded to think. She needed full strength to see her
through. This time she checked every entrance to make sure no one recognised her. It wouldn’t do to be caught red-handed.

By two o’clock she’d spent every penny, wrapped her purchases carefully in her shopping bag and headed back to the show. Ben was waiting with a face like thunder.

‘Where’ve you been?’ He drew close to smell her breath again.

‘Never you mind. A girl has to do what a girl has to do. Haven’t you heard of Christmas shopping or am I expected to buy it all here? Jack needed new pyjamas and I’d got enough coupons. I saw a little scarf for Florrie. No peeking until Christmas.’ She smiled sweetly through her lies. That took the shine off his shoes. ‘You thought I’d been down the Golden Lion again. Go on, admit it? You’ll have to trust me. Those days are over now. We’ve got Jack home and we’ll give him a good time.’ It hurt to play-act in front of him but what else could she do?

Ben stepped back, looking relieved. ‘We got a second for Gertie and a third for Horace. Pity you weren’t here to see it, but I suppose you ladies have to make the most of an outing to the shops now you’ll not be gadding off each week.’

Was there a warning in his voice? It was hard to tell. Ben was acting like her policeman and it got on Mirren’s nerves.

‘I’ll gad where I like,’ she snapped, ‘and when I like. You’re not my keeper and I’m not a child!’

‘Someone has to look after you. You’ve got so thin and I never see you eat a square meal. I never see you pick up a book either, or peg rugs with Florrie like you used to.’

‘Nothing is like it used to be, or have you forgotten? You’ve got your life to live and I’ve got mine,’ she said, and walked away from him.

The sooner he got wed the sooner she could settle down with Jack and try to make a go of it. Ben unnerved her when he drew too close. There was something in his eyes that stirred up stuff. He was young and strong and fit and bursting with energy.

Perhaps she and Jack should move right away and go down south, as he wanted to. This new Jack didn’t seem so eager. Once he was at Cragside he’d be fed up in five minutes and want to move on.

Mirren took her bag to the ladies’ room and had a swig to calm her nerves, chewed on a peppermint and splashed on some lavender water, just in case her gaoler was on the prowl.

Now she had to think where to hide her supplies away from prying eyes. World’s End would have been ideal if it wasn’t so far to trek, but now it wasn’t hers. She didn’t want Tom and Florrie finding out her secret habit. They had enough on
their plate worrying about Jack. He wouldn’t care either way.

It was funny how she was getting an expert on how to find black-market booze around the district. It was as if there was a secret little network of cronies all after the same stuff and all helping each other find new suppliers, word of mouth round the pubs and shops. She’d make sure Tom got in some stuff for Christmas. Beer or brandy–anything would do to eke out her own bottles. They were not for sharing. She had to be strong for Jack and to stop Ben from nagging and get through the festive season without making a fool of herself. Christmas was an endurance test and she had to look after her own interest if she was to survive.

Ben could like it or lump it. It was none of his business. If he didn’t like it he could camp out with his ladylove at World’s End and leave her to get on with living her way. She still hadn’t forgiven him for stealing her dream.

14

Jack shuffled through that first visit in a dream, drawn, bent and so tired he fell asleep even when they were talking. That weekend was to be the first of many and it was a strain trying to be bright and breezy, chipper and cheerful. Florrie did her best to cajole her son into eating some of her best baking but he barely had a spoonful. It was hard to make conversation with him. He didn’t seem to hear what they were saying, had not a spark of interest in farm chitchat. He avoided Dieter as if he was a bad smell and just stared out of the window across the valley, lost in his own world.

‘Come on,’ said Mirren, trying to stay patient. ‘Snap out of it. We’re going to make the best of the season whatever. Pam and Wes have made the effort to come and visit. Your mam’s doing her best. Buck up!’

‘You don’t know what it’s like. I feel tired all the time.’

‘But you do nothing but sit around,’ she replied. ‘Let’s walk the fields. It’s time we had a chat.’

‘What about? I should think you said it all in hospital. I know you’re only going through the motions. You look worse than me in the mornings.’

‘That’s because I’m trying to stay on top of the job. One day at a time, and I’ve no time to indulge myself in self-pity. What’s done can’t be undone,’ she replied.

‘Do you think I like feeling like this?’

‘There you go, feeling sorry for yourself again. Buck up and come and help me muck out. The doctor said exercise would do you good.’ His whining was getting on her nerves.

‘Not with that Jerry on the prowl,’ came his reply. ‘Why did you let them bring Krauts here?’

‘Because Dieter is hard-working and cheap labour and he does the job.’ What had Dieter got to do with anything?

‘So you prefer Jerry to me now, is it?’ He stared at her hard.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ She avoided his gaze.

‘You’ve not looked the road I’m on since I came back,’ he added.

‘And why should I want to? You’ve not made any effort. You don’t wash or shave unless I badger you, your armpits smell of sweat. I’m doing my
best trying to put things behind me…for better or worse, Jack. That’s what we promised but it’s hard.’

‘You ignore me as if I’m some weak-willed idiot. I can’t help how I feel,’ he argued back.

‘Feel, feel…feel. I’m sick of how you feel. What about how I feel, trapped in these hills with only memories of how it once was?’

‘But you’ve changed, Mirren, grown that hard you’ll snap. Strong you may be but it feels I’m being punished night and day, in my dreams, every waking moment, and when I see the look on your face it’s like sore feet. How’s a chap supposed to feel? And why’s Lanky still sniffing around here? I thought he was wedding Freddy’s sister?’

‘He will. Give them time. Those two are on the slow boat to China, blowing hot and cold. Enough of them. What are we going to do? We can’t stay here for ever, not now…’

‘I’m not ready to shift yet, love. I’ve got to get my head together. There’s whole bits I can’t piece together. It’s the shock treatment. I don’t want any more of that. It burns your brains.’ He fidgeted with his hair.

‘Then buck up, smarten up, and we’ll go down The Fleece and have a little celebration.’

‘But you don’t drink.’ He looked up at her with surprise.

‘That was before Sylvie died. I’ll not refuse a
sherry or two, or a beer even. I need to get out of this place and I can’t go on my own, now, can I?’

‘I can’t drink with my tablets. Dr Kaplinsky says I’m dried out now and better to stay off it. It was doing me no good, as well you know. Thanks but I’ll give it a miss.’

‘That’s not like you to miss a treat. Where’s that
esprit de corps?
It’ll do us both good just to go down and see your pals. Come on, one won’t do you any harm.’

And that was how they found themselves propping up the bar at Windebank amidst the faded tinsel and tatty paper decorations, the spit-and-sawdust brigade, listening to gossip. Everyone made a fuss of Jack and bought him drinks and he began to liven up.

Mirren slipped down as many as she decently could before the bell rang and Bill suggested a lock-up. Those who were still at the bar when the bell rang were locked in. They were still there at two in the morning.

Somehow they staggered home and into bed without too much noise, laughing and giggling like naughty schoolkids, fumbling into a drunken cuddle, snoring and waking up with heads like helter-skelters.

Now that was better, Mirren smiled. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em, she reasoned. Better to share the same hobby.

Suddenly Christmas at Cragside was nothing to fear.

‘What’s got into Mirren?’ said Ben’s mother, Pam, eyeing her at the table with concern. ‘She’s up and down like a yo-yo, never still and that thin, and she was always such a bonny lass. Now she’s shrunk to nothing. Still, it can’t be easy for her with Jack on the bottle again. Florrie’s that worried. They stay out all hours. It’s the talk of Windebank how they’ve perked up. I hope Mirren will keep him on the straight and narrow. She always was a stickler before but lately…I’m not sure.’

It was as if Sylvia’s death hovered over them all like a dark cloud, never spoken of but always there, and those two were partying as if there was no tomorrow.

Mirren was hitting the bottle again, down the pub laughing and joking, pretending all was well, glassy-eyed, tanked up one minute and miserable the next. Ben knew the signs by now. It made him sick to watch her.

Lorna was avoiding him too, trying to play hard to get, but he didn’t have time for games. There were enough games going on here.

Nothing was ever addressed. Tom and Florrie didn’t want to upset Jack, and he was treading a fine line trying to hold himself together, but Mirren wasn’t helping at all, taking him down to
the very place that had caused his first trouble. Ben didn’t understand her any more.

He caught her by the outbarn, loading hay, for the weather was set for snow.

‘What’s your game, setting Jack back on the booze?’ he yelled, not caring who heard him. ‘He was dry for months and now he’s as bad as ever. I’d have thought you had more sense. I’m that worried about you, Mirren. Drink’s not the answer.’

‘How would you know?’ she said, her eyes blazing hatred.

‘It doesn’t bring out the best in you. Cut it out for a while…sober up. Everyone’s beginning to notice.’

‘So what? It’s my life. I can live it how I please. I will take my medicine when I like, where I like. You can’t stop me.’

‘Medicine–is that how you see it? Poison, more like. It’s changed you from being my reliable friend into someone I can’t trust any more.’

‘Who says I need your friendship anyway? You stole what was mine for your girlfriend. I don’t trust you either,’ she said.

‘Don’t talk daft. When did I ever steal anything of yours?’

‘World’s End. I’ve seen what you’ve done with it…for her. Dieter told me. That place was mine first.’ She stared back defiantly at him, waiting for a response.

Ben took off his cap and roared with laughter. ‘You nincompoop! So that’s what you’ve been sulking about all these weeks. I knew there was something up.’

‘Don’t you dare laugh at me, Reuben Yewell. There’s nothing more to say if you’re going to take that attitude. I hate you!’ She stormed off, leaving him standing, calling her back.

‘But let me explain…’ he called into the wind.

‘I’m not listening. Kettle calling the pot black, that’s you!’ She raced off down the track.

The stupid woman thought World’s End was for Lorna, Ben smiled, and she was jealous. He could see it in her eyes, up a gumtree with fury. It was time to clear the air once and for all and show that harridan just how wrong she was. Then he wanted to see the shame on her cheeks when he showed them his gift.

‘It’s not a night to be gallivanting out,’ Florrie advised. The sky was leaden and full of snow feathers and ice. She looked up from her knitting. ‘Better to stay indoors and have a game of cards. It’s icy out there.’

Mirren breezed past her. ‘We’ll borrow the van, won’t be long. Jack’s been stuck in all day long, helping with paperwork. He deserves a treat. You wouldn’t begrudge us a bit of life now, would you?’ She knew how to get round Florrie.

‘You never used to like those places, Mirren,’ Florrie sniffed, not looking up. ‘Now you can’t keep away.’

‘There’s nothing to keep us here, is there?’ Sylvia was laid on the table as her trump card.

‘No, well, if you put it like that, but don’t be late. Tom’s got a bad chest. It’s your turn to do the milking.’

‘When have I ever let him down?’ she said, knowing full well she’d be pushed to rise by first light.

Jack was looking brighter, more his old self, more the man she married except in the bed department. They’d not managed to get it together very well yet. But she wasn’t exactly Hedy Lamarr in the glamour stakes to help it on.

Ben went about like a bear with a sore head. He’d offered to take them both up to World’s End to show them round but she refused politely and didn’t want to hear any more on that subject. World’s End was off limits until hostilities ceased. She didn’t want to see the pride in his place when he showed them his love nest.

It had been a dreadful morning at the local marketplace. Lorna had snubbed her in the street. Hilda Thursby, now a mother, was pushing her pram and ducked behind the stalls when she saw her coming.

Mirren knew people were pointing at her behind
her back, saying that she was the wife whose hubby had run over his kiddy while drunk. She knew what they were thinking and she didn’t care. She and Jack had each other and a bottle for company. The rest could go hang!

It was a freezing night, sure enough, and a wind had got up. They rattled down the village in silence. There was something on Jack’s mind. He’d gone quiet and shut off.

‘Cat got your tongue?’ Mirren said, hoping to chivvy up his mood, but he looked ahead and shrugged his shoulders.