A Cuckoo in Candle Lane

by Kitty Neale

  Sally masked a smile; her gran was in for a shock. Since living with her aunt she had discovered her hidden sense of humour, and knew she had something planned for today.

  ‘Here you are, Mum,’ Mary said, handing her a cup of tea. Then with a quick sly wink at Sally she sat down, and taking a biscuit from the plate promptly dunked it into her own cup, before raising it to her mouth and slurping into it with relish.

  The look on Sadie’s face was priceless. Her eyes popped and her jaw dropped as she stared at her daughter. ‘Cor blimey, I never thought I’d see the day,’ she gasped.

  Sally was bent double with laughter, holding her stomach as she rocked with mirth. It was her mother who broke the mood and made the laughter die in her throat as she spoke, her voice ringing with authority. ‘Right, my girl – it’s time we talked about this baby again. I’ve given it a lot of thought and as I said before, I’m certain that the only thing to do is to ’ave it adopted.’

  ‘No, Mum, I’ve told you. It’s my baby and I’m keeping it.’

  ‘Don’t be bloody daft, girl. How can you keep it? You ain’t bringing it home with you, and that’s final.’

  ‘Hold on a minute, Ruth,’ Mary intervened. ‘I’ve been giving this a lot of thought too, and I think I’ve come up with a solution.’

  ‘Oh yeah? Well, let’s hear it then,’ Ruth said coldly.

  ‘Why don’t you move? You don’t have to stay in Candle Lane. Then when Sally’s had the baby, who’s to know she isn’t a widow?’

  ‘Don’t be daft, she’s a bit young to ’ave lost her husband, ain’t she? Christ, even new neighbours won’t swallow that,’ Ruth told her sister scathingly.

  ‘Tell people the baby’s yours then,’ Mary suggested.

  Ruth gawked. ‘Mine? Pretend it’s mine?’ she spluttered.

  ‘I think it’s a good idea,’ Sadie said. ‘You know you’re not happy since Elsie moved away.’ She turned to look at Mary. ‘The new neighbours are awful. Four kids they’ve got and they’re a right little bunch of hooligans.’

  After thinking about it, Ruth slowly nodded her head. ‘Yeah, it could work. I suppose I could ask the council for a transfer. Mind you, it won’t happen overnight. It could take some time before they offer us anything.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Sally’s welcome to stay with me until you get something sorted out,’ Mary told her.

  They’re doing it again, Sally thought. They’re talking about me as if I’m not here. She stared down at her swollen ankles, feeling helpless as she heard all the arrangements being made. It didn’t seem right that her mum was going to pretend that the baby was hers. A thought struck her and she reared up, unable to stop herself blurting out, ‘No, no, it isn’t fair! My baby will grow up thinking I’m its sister.’

  Her mother looked at her through narrowed eyes. ‘Do yer think we don’t know that? Fair? You talk about fair! Christ, you’re an ungrateful little madam. Here we are, trying to sort things out for you, and do we get any thanks? No, all you do is whine. Now listen to me. Yes, I’m prepared to say the kid’s mine, but you needn’t think I’m looking after it. That’s your job, miss. I’ve got enough to do working fulltime in the grocer’s shop.’

  Sally stared at her mother, her thoughts racing. Maybe they were right, maybe it was the only way to keep her baby, and at least she would be looking after it, that was something. But never to hear the child call her Mummy – how would she be able to bear it? Oh Arthur, Arthur …

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The sweat was running down Arthur’s face as he made his way home from work. Christ it’s hot, he thought, thinking longingly of a nice cold beer. They were still in the hostel, but Jenny and her parents would be moving into their own place in a couple of days. They had offered to put him up but he had refused, hoping that by putting a distance between himself and Jenny, it might improve matters.

  Things weren’t working out too well between them and they seemed to be constantly rowing. It had started on the ship only a week before they arrived in Sydney, and he scowled, remembering how Jenny had told him that she wasn’t pregnant after all. It had been a false alarm, she said. There was something in her eyes when she told him that, a look he couldn’t quite fathom, almost like triumph, and it had preyed on his mind ever since.

  It had been strange when, soon after arriving in Sydney, they had spent Christmas Day on Bondi Beach, having a picnic. God, how he had missed his family, but Jenny couldn’t understand his unhappiness and had moaned at him for being miserable.

  He should write to his mum again, he knew that, but what could he tell her? That he was happy, when in reality he wasn’t? Oh, there was nothing wrong with Australia, it was a great place, with a vibrant economy, no unemployment, and plenty of opportunities for those prepared to work. The people were great too, friendly and open, and other than the occasional jokes about ‘whingeing poms’ he got on really well with them. So what was the matter? Why couldn’t he settle?

  Now, arriving back at the hostel, he had a cool shower, ignoring the letters waiting for him, somehow unable to face reading news from home.

  He sat on the edge of his bed, deep in thought. He and Jenny had agreed not to see each other tonight as she wanted to wash her hair. But her parents would be out as they were going to take another look at the house, so should he pop round to see her? Perhaps if they talked, tried to work things out, their relationship could be rescued.

  I’ll surprise her, he thought, take her out for a meal – she would like that. His mind made up, he went over to the married quarters, and knocking softly on the door before opening it, called, ‘Hello, love, fancy going out for a—’ He paused, his sentence unfinished, not able to comprehend the sight that met his eyes. She was with another bloke, wrapped in his arms.

  ‘Arthur!’ she gasped, stepping quickly away and struggling to button up her blouse.

  ‘You slut!’ he yelled, and as he stared at her a rage built up inside him. He had to get out of there; if he didn’t, God knows what he might do. Turning and slamming the door behind him, he headed for the nearest bar. He needed a drink, a stiff one.

  ‘You all right, mate?’

  Arthur tried to focus on the voice and finding himself swaying, managed to clutch the edge of the bar. ‘Yesh,’ he mumbled.

  ‘Don’t tell me – you’re English,’ another voice said, thick with sarcasm. ‘What’s the matter? Homesick, are you?’

  ‘Yesh,’ he answered, feeling a nudge in his side that made him stagger.

  ‘Leave him alone,’ someone protested. ‘He’ll settle down, it’s hard at first.’

  Arthur, feeling his legs going from under him, managed to lean on the bar again, the voices around him coming in waves, loud now and angry. There was some sort of row going on, but his head was spinning and he felt detached, not part of it.

  The noise increased, and there was a crash as a chair was thrown. Some section of his mind told him that he should get out of there, and pushing himself up, his eyes bleary, he made for the door, staggering dizzily.

  Almost falling outside, his fuddled mind registered that it was dark. He saw headlights – then there was nothing.

  Arthur woke up to find himself in a hospital ward. A nurse, seeing that he was conscious, rushed to his side. ‘It’s all right,’ she told him. ‘You’ve had a bit of an accident, but the doctors had a look at you and you’re going to be fine. No bones broken or anything.’

  ‘How long have I been here?’ he croaked.

  ‘You came in last night.’

  ‘Can I have some water?’

  The nurse filled a glass and after helping him to sit up, held it to his lips. He drank gratefully, gulping the cool liquid.

  ‘Hello, how’s our patient?’

  ‘He’s just woken up, Doctor.’

  ‘Hmm, well, let’s have a look at him then.’

  The curtains were drawn around the bed and Arthur submitted to the doctor’s gentle examination. A light was shone in his eyes, questions
were asked, until finally the doctor, after scribbling on his notes, went on to the next patient.

  As the nurse drew the curtains back, Arthur was surprised to see Jenny’s mother standing at the foot of the bed, a scowl on her face.

  ‘Awake at last, are you? It’s about time. I can’t stay long, we’re moving into our house tomorrow and I’ve got a lot to do. I’m only here because of Jenny.’

  ‘Jenny? I don’t understand.’

  ‘She asked me to give you this,’ the woman told him, holding out an envelope.

  ‘But how did you know I was in here?’

  ‘A bloke came knocking on our door last night. We weren’t too pleased to be woken up at one o’clock in the morning, I can tell you. He said you’d had a bit of an accident, but that it wasn’t serious.’

  Arthur moved his body cautiously, wincing as he did so. ‘Why hasn’t Jenny come to see me herself?’ he asked, looking at the envelope.

  ‘’Cos she’s too bloody upset, that’s why. Now I’ve got to go,’ Mrs Jackson said curtly and walked hurriedly away.

  Arthur fingered the letter, feeling something bulky inside. He tore it open, his eyes quickly scanning the contents, and then, holding the envelope upside down, he tipped out the ring.

  So it was over. What did he feel? Nothing, he had to admit, except anger that he’d been made a fool of – and perhaps relief too, he realised. The funny thing was, Jenny was blaming him. It was his fault, she wrote. He was so bloody miserable it was spoiling her new life in Australia.

  Sinking down onto the pillows he closed his eyes, and at some point must have dozed off, waking to the sound of a voice. ‘Hello, mate, feeling better are you?’

  Arthur opened his eyes, frowning at the man who stood by the bed. He didn’t know him from Adam.

  ‘You don’t recognise me, do you? I’m not surprised, you’d had a pretty good skinful last night.’

  Arthur stared at the tall figure without comprehension. ‘I’m sorry, I …’

  ‘The bar – we met for a few minutes in the bar, just before all hell broke loose. I followed you outside and managed to pull you back when you stumbled into the road, but I wasn’t quick enough and the wing of a car clipped you. I didn’t think you were badly hurt, but you passed out, so I brought you to the hospital just in case.’

  ‘Christ, I don’t remember anything,’ Arthur told him. ‘But thanks for helping me.’

  ‘Nah, mate, that’s all right. Before you left the bar you said you were homesick and I guessed that’s why you were drowning your sorrows.’ He grinned widely, adding, ‘My name’s Joe, by the way.’

  Arthur found himself smiling back. There was something about this bloke that he liked. ‘I’m Arthur Jones, pleased to meet you, mate.’

  ‘So how long have you been in Sydney?’ Joe asked.

  ‘Since just before Christmas.’

  ‘No wonder you’re feeling a bit down. I suppose you left your family behind?’

  ‘Yeah, I came out with my girlfriend and her parents.’ Arthur smiled ruefully, ‘Though I’ve just been given a Dear John,’ he added, pointing to the letter on his locker.

  ‘Bad luck, mate. Strewth, I picked a good time to visit you, didn’t I, but to tell you the truth I won’t be around after today. I’m not sure where I’m going, probably Melbourne.’

  ‘But surely there’s plenty of work in Sydney?’

  ‘You’re right, there is, but I fancy a change of scenery. I’ve been here for a while now and I’ve got itchy feet. I fancy seeing a bit more of the country.’

  ‘Well, I can’t say I blame you. It’s a big place, that’s for sure.’

  ‘What are you going to do now, Arthur?’

  ‘I dunno, but I don’t fancy staying in Sydney. I suppose I could go back to England, find out how much it would cost to book a berth. The money I saved before coming out here might cover it.’

  ‘No, mate, you shouldn’t go back yet. Give Oz a chance, or you’ll always regret it. You’ll be left wondering if you could have made a go of it here.’

  Arthur pinched his bottom lip between his fingers. So much had happened that his thoughts were jumbled. He had no sense of direction, no idea of what to do.

  ‘Hey, Arthur, I’ve got an idea. How do you fancy coming with me? I could do with the company,’ Joe suggested eagerly.

  As he stared at Joe, his mind racing, a nurse came to stand by the bed. ‘The doctor said you can be discharged, Mr Jones,’ she told him.

  Arthur’s eyes widened; it seemed like an omen somehow. What did he have to lose? He only knew Jenny and her family in Sydney, and now they’d broken up there was nothing to keep him here. He looked at Joe and somehow felt they could become good friends. Making a snap decision, he grinned. ‘Yeah, I’ll come with you. What time are you leaving?’

  ‘In about two hours. I tell you what, I’ll pick you up at the hostel.’

  ‘So it was you who told Jenny I was in here?’

  ‘Yeah, I found the address in your pocket. I hope you don’t mind, mate. It seemed the right thing to do.’

  ‘No, of course not,’ Arthur told him, liking Joe more and more. It had been good of him to take the trouble.

  When Joe left the ward, Arthur got out of bed, dressing as quickly as he could. He ached a bit, and had a terrible hangover, but nothing he couldn’t cope with, and he was soon on his way back to the hostel.

  It didn’t take him long to pack, and stuffing the unopened letters from home in the pocket of his suitcase, he left the room to the sound of Joe’s horn, honking at him from outside.

  Climbing into the truck, he grinned at his new friend, and as they drove off, he didn’t look back.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Sally was sitting with her feet up when she heard the telephone, but before she could get up, her aunt answered it.

  ‘Sally, I’ve got a bit of a problem,’ Mary told her, her face drawn with anxiety as she returned to the sitting room. ‘That was Sheila on the phone. Harry’s been released from prison and has been round to her house demanding to see his son.’

  ‘Oh, no! I hope she called the police.’

  ‘She’s frightened, Sally. Apparently Harry has changed dramatically. He was very abusive and almost violent. Yes, she called the police, but by the time they arrived he’d gone. She wants me to stay for a while, just until she sells the house and can move away.’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t realise the house was hers. I assumed it was rented.’

  ‘She inherited it from her parents, and as she and Harry weren’t legally married, he hasn’t got a claim on it.’

  ‘When are you going, Auntie?’

  ‘I can’t leave you on your own.’

  Leaning back in her chair, Sally’s eyes closed in thought. Her aunt had to go to Sheila’s, the poor woman must be out of her mind with worry. And what about Linda? The child must be terrified, having to face Harry again. ‘You must go, Auntie. I’ll be fine on my own,’ she assured her.

  ‘Sally, you’re over six months’ pregnant, and I have no idea how long I’ll be away. No, if I go someone will have to come to stay with you.’ She paused, frowning worriedly, then her eyes lit up. ‘I know, what about Ann?’

  ‘Yes, good idea, I’m sure she’ll agree. I’ll go and give her a ring now.’

  Her aunt looked up hopefully as Sally came back into the room. ‘All arranged. Bert’s going to bring her over and they should be here within an hour.’

  Sighing with relief her aunt stood up. ‘I’ll give Sheila a ring to tell her I’m on my way, then I’d better pack. Now are you sure you don’t mind, Sally? I feel awful leaving you like this.’

  ‘Of course I don’t mind. Sheila hasn’t got anyone else to turn to, and as for poor Linda, she’s probably only just started to get over Harry’s abuse. God knows what effect this will have on her.’

  Ann settled in happily. Tooting was closer to Billy’s home in Battersea and she went out with him twice a week. Tonight they were going dancing at the Hammersmith
Palais.

  Sally turned her head as Ann came into the room. ‘How do I look?’ she asked, twirling around to show off her pretty dress.

  ‘Great,’ Sally told her.

  Smiling happily, Ann threw herself onto the sofa. ‘Billy won’t be here for about another half an hour. Does my hair look all right?’

  Sally smiled gently. Even though Ann’s eyes were perfectly straight now, a slight cast only showing when she was tired, she was still uncertain about her appearance. She had backcombed her dark brown hair into a bouffant style that gave her added height. ‘Your hair is fine,’ she told her. ‘That style really suits you.’

  ‘What about my make-up?’

  Sally studied Ann’s face. ‘It’s fine,’ she assured her. ‘You always look nice. By the way, has your mum had another letter from Arthur yet?’

  Ann’s face fell. ‘No, and she’s getting more and more upset. Honestly, I could kill him, worrying her like this. She even tried writing to Jenny, but she hasn’t replied either, and—’ She paused, hearing a knock at the door. ‘That’ll be Billy,’ she said, jumping to her feet.

  ‘Will you be all right, Sally?’ Ann asked as she led him into the room. ‘We could stay in if you like.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, I’m fine. I know I look huge, but I’ve still got another eight weeks to go yet,’ she assured her.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure. I’ll see you later then. Come on, Billy,’ she said, grabbing his arm.

  The door had only just closed behind them when the telephone rang. Sally heaved herself off the sofa, waddling into the hall to answer it.

  ‘Hello, how are you?’ her aunt asked.

  ‘I’m fine. Is everything all right? Harry hasn’t been round again, has he?’

  ‘No, not a sign of him. The court injunction seems to have done the trick.’

  ‘Oh good. How’s the sale of the house going? Has Sheila found a buyer yet?’