A Mother’s Sacrifice. Kitty Neale

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Glenda hadn’t mentioned that she knew Billy when Frank had talked about how lucky they were to be alive after a doodlebug bomb had flattened their house during the war. His father hadn’t survived but Frank hadn’t sounded too bothered by that. It seemed there was no love lost between them. She hadn’t wanted Frank to know that it was partly because of his brother she had ended up in hospital. The whole time she had shared with Frank had been so magical; she didn’t want to spoil it by bringing up horrible things about Harry.

      When Glenda thought of Harry her stomach knotted again and, though there was still a bitter chill in the wind, small beads of nervous sweat broke out on her forehead. Harry wasn’t due home from work for a few hours, but she just couldn’t face going home yet. She wanted the feeling of euphoria never to end, so instead she decided to pop in to see Helen. As her parents lived next door to Helen, she could visit them too, but though her bruises had faded she wouldn’t be able to hide her missing teeth and broken nose from her father.

      Mrs Merton lived a few doors up from Helen’s house and sold homemade toffee apples. Glenda decided to purchase one for her mother as a little treat. She tapped three times on Mrs Merton’s front window, the signal for her to come and sell her apples. They were very popular with the locals and though everyone knew that Mrs Merton must have managed to acquire extra sugar on the black market, nobody minded as she sold her wares at a fair price and they were a rare treat for those who could spare the tuppence.

      Glenda thanked Mrs Merton, tucked her toffee apple away in her handbag and first visited her best friend. She knocked on Helen’s door, smiling as she desperately tried to force Frank from her mind.

      Helen seemed genuinely pleased and surprised to find Glenda standing on her doorstep.

      ‘Glenda!’ she exclaimed. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you today. Come in out of the cold, love.’

      ‘Thanks, Helen. I was just taking Johnnie for a stroll – a bit of fresh air is good for him. Not that the air round here is all that fresh. That blinking stench from Garton’s glucose factory and the fumes from the brewery … I swear it’s getting worse!’

      ‘I know, and so many people complain about it,’ said Helen as she helped Glenda in through the door with the pram. ‘I’m sure there’s sticky stuff on my windows from that factory. Come through to the kitchen, Dad is in his bed in the front room and Mum is upstairs having a nap.’

      Glenda sat at the table in the cramped kitchen and stretched her neck to look out of the back door at the apple tree Helen had planted during the war, which sadly still wasn’t producing any fruit.

      ‘Sorry about the state of the tea,’ said Helen, ‘these leaves must have been brewed four times over and we haven’t got any sugar. This rationing is getting really tiresome now. I queued for over two hours yesterday afternoon just for a loaf of bread. It wouldn’t be so bad, but you know it’s hard for me to leave Mum and Dad by themselves.’

      ‘You should have said. I could have got you a loaf when I got mine,’ Glenda offered. ‘Talking of parents, I want to pop round to see mine, but does my face look all right?’

      ‘There’s still a faint bruise, but a bit more foundation and powder should cover it up. I’m afraid there’s not much else we can do about your wonky nose or gappy grin,’ Helen said lightheartedly, continuing to look at her. She paused. ‘There’s something else. You look different, Glenda. I can’t put my finger on it but there’s definitely something. You ain’t pregnant again, are you?’

      ‘No, don’t be daft,’ Glenda said, laughing. She could feel her cheeks begin to flush as she thought of Frank, and her friend quizzed her further.

      ‘So what is it, Glenda Jenkins? And don’t you go saying nothing ’cos I know there’s something! You can’t keep secrets from me, you know. I’ve been your best mate all your life and I know when you’re up to something. Look at you, smiling like the cat that’s got the cream.’

      ‘Oh, Helen,’ Glenda gushed, ‘you know me too well. You’re right, I can’t keep things from you, but if I tell you, you have to promise to keep it a secret.’

      ‘Of course I will, Glenda, you know that!’

      ‘Well,’ Glenda paused, ‘it’s this bloke I met called Frank …’

      Ted was pleasantly surprised to find his only daughter standing in the front-room doorway, gently rocking his first grandson on her hip.

      ‘Glenda,’ he fussed, rushing over to take Johnnie from her arms, ‘leave the pram there, it’ll be fine. How lovely to see you, my gal. It’s been weeks. Come in, come in and sit yourself down. Look, Elsie, look who’s come to visit. It’s our Glenda and don’t she look a sight for sore eyes!’

      Elsie raised a bit of a smile, but soon closed her eyes again as she drifted off to sleep on the small couch in the corner of the room.

      ‘Your mother’s a bit tired, love. It’s this weather. It’s turned cold again and it keeps her up at night when the wind blows down the chimney.’

      ‘The sun’s come out now and I’ve got her a little pressie from old Mrs Merton. Here you are.’ Glenda handed the toffee apple to Ted.

      Such a thoughtful girl, he thought, but as a ray of sun shone through the window and illuminated her face, Ted caught sight of Glenda’s bruised eye. He could tell she’d tried to cover it with make-up and, as he studied her more closely, he noticed her nose looked misshapen too. He inwardly seethed, instantly knowing that her thug of a husband had been bashing her again. He wanted to question her about it but knew from experience that his daughter would always lie to cover for Harry, and he hated it when she did that. He took a deep breath and tried to carry on as normal.

      ‘And how have you both been? We ain’t seen you in a while.’

      ‘Yes, I know, Dad, and I’m sorry. It’s just that Johnnie’s been teething and I’ve been busy. You know how it is.’

      Oh, yes, thought Ted, he knew exactly how it was. More like she’s been too injured and ashamed to show us her face. Though he expected to get the same old fairy story, Ted found he couldn’t help but have it out with her.

      ‘Look, love,’ he began, ‘we’ve been through this before and I don’t expect you’ll tell me anything different from last time, but if that old man of yours has been hitting you again, you don’t have to stay with him. You’ll always have a roof over your head here, and Johnnie too.’

      Ted held his breath and stared intently at his beloved daughter. She had come late to them, when Elsie had been over forty. He himself was now nearly sixty-two years old, with gnarled hands from arthritis, but if he had been a younger and fitter man he would have marched straight round to Harry Jenkins and punched him on the nose.

      ‘I know you’ll always take me in, Dad, and thanks. I ain’t gonna lie to you again, so yes, Harry has been hitting me, pretty badly this time. But how can I leave him? He knows this is the first place I’d run to and he’d soon come round here to kick up a stink. He’d drag me back home and I’d suffer for daring to walk out on him. Not only that, I couldn’t divorce him. Oh, Dad, just think of it, the shame. Women round these parts don’t leave their husbands. It’s unheard of!’

      Ted’s heart nearly crumbled as he saw the anguish in Glenda’s eyes. For her to finally admit that Harry had been hitting her … he must have really hurt her badly this time.

      ‘Sod СКАЧАТЬ