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The Candle Factory Girl

Page 13

by Tania Crosse


  ‘Over there,’ Jessica told him.

  ‘Well, it has been a delight to meet you all, ladies.’ Patrick gave a half bow. ‘I hope it will not be the last time. And may I wish you all a very Merry Christmas!’ He turned away, Africa trotting along obediently by his side. Hillie saw him give a little skip and then swivel back to face them. ‘You could always feign toothache!’ he called, and with a cheery wave, he disappeared into the now total darkness.

  ‘Well, I never.’ Hillie broke the silence as they crossed the road and hurried back along Cambridge Road.

  ‘Need to tread blooming carefully, if you ask me.’ Gert wrinkled her nose. ‘Dentist, indeed. How d’you know he’s telling the truth?’

  ‘The dogs’ home do check on people before they let them take a dog home,’ Jessica assured her.

  ‘And there’s a dentists’ register, isn’t there?’ Hillie suggested as they caught the others up. If Jessica was keen to pursue the matter, she ought to support her. After all, if it hadn’t been for her, Jessica wouldn’t have been in the park in the first place. ‘You’ve got a phone. The operator should be able to connect you.’

  ‘Who on earth was that, then?’ Kit asked, grunting as he manoeuvred Old Sal’s wheelchair down the kerb to cross back over Battersea Bridge Road.

  ‘Some bloke Jessica met at the dogs’ home. Says he’s a dentist.’

  ‘Ah, yes, I think I’ve heard of him. Can’t be many black dentists around here. Someone at the station went to see him and said he was excellent.’

  ‘There you go, then. So, you going to contact him again?’ Hillie asked.

  Jessica puffed out her cheeks. ‘If I get the chance. I wouldn’t even have thought of it if it hadn’t been for the way you stood up to my father just now, Hillie. Perhaps it’s rubbing off on me! Anyway, what are you all doing at Christmas?’

  ‘You know, the usual sort of thing,’ Gert told her. ‘Just nice to have the family together. And you?’

  They’d reached Banbury Street now, and Jessica’s answer floated over Hillie’s head as her thoughts turned to her own home. The magic of the carol concert, the children’s faces entranced by the lights dancing in the gloom, would dissolve into fleeting memories the instant they all got inside. Harold would be waiting, ready to scorn and hurt with his spiteful tongue – or worse. Schooling her face into a smile, Hillie said goodbye to the Parkers, and then watched Jessica let herself in to Number Three. Then, following her own family to their front door, she prepared to face the music.

  Having said goodbye to everyone, Kit was left standing alone on the pavement. He could hear the muffled, happy voices of his own family from the other side of the closed front door, but the street itself was quiet and still in the darkness. A bus rumbled across the end of the road, then all was silent again.

  Kit paused for a moment, letting the chill wind entwine itself about him. He drew deeply on the evening air, and then watched his breath billow out in a little cloud. The afternoon had been wondrous. Even more so because she had been there. From his position standing next to his gran, he’d watched her unobserved across the crowd, her lovely face lifted in contentment. Yet he knew she had problems of her own with that bastard of a father. He longed to take her in his arms, wrap his own strength around her. But his stupid pride had made him want to make something of himself first. To have a decent home, security, to offer her before he declared himself. But he’d left it too late, and now she had that chap from the factory. She must be smitten to risk her father’s wrath by seeing this Jimmy fellow when she knew how strongly he disapproved. Dear God, Kit prayed he’d be around to protect her when the devil found out.

  His gaze was drawn to the Hardwicks’ front door, and he stood, rooted to the spot, his heart aching.

  ‘No good lusting after ’er. Got some other geezer, ain’t she?’

  Kit smelt rather than heard Dolly Maguire come up behind him. He threw the drunken old witch a withering glance before spinning on his heel and striding off down the street.

  Dolly Maguire chortled aloud. Hit a raw nerve there, hadn’t she? So she was right. That stuck-up little puss was seeing someone – and Dolly would bet her last farthing that Old Man Hardwick didn’t know. But how could she make the best use of that little nugget? She’d have to think about that one…

  Chapter Nine

  ‘Here you are, Mummy. Happy Christmas!’

  Little Daisy stepped forward and gave Nell a small package. Nell pulled her daughter onto her knee as she unwrapped the brown paper with deliberate slowness.

  ‘Oh, what have we here?’ she said excitedly, making her fingers work as clumsily as they could. ‘Oh, a bath cube! And this one’s lavender,’ she beamed, ‘so now I have rose, lily of the valley, orchid, hyacinth and lavender,’ she declared, adding it to the line of tiny gifts on the kitchen table. ‘I’ll use just a half each time I have a bath, and then won’t I smell lovely!’

  ‘Will you use mine first, Mummy?’ Trixie piped up.

  ‘No, mine,’ Joan pouted.

  Nell glanced up wistfully at Hillie, and their eyes met. Nell knew full well that with Harold refusing to give his children pocket money, Hillie had given her brother and sisters the few pennies to buy the bath cubes at Woolworths in Lavender Hill. It was all she could afford, since her father had cut what she could keep from her wages each week.

  Earlier that morning, after opening their stockings that were nothing more than one of their own socks, in each one of which Nell had placed an orange and one of the new Mars chocolate bars, they had all gone to church. Everyone except Harold. The whole idea had been to get away from him for an hour and a half, rather than from any religious convictions, although singing carols had been uplifting. But back home, the atmosphere was hardly jolly with Harold’s mere presence putting the dampers on everything.

  ‘Well, I think I’ll muddle them all up and choose with my eyes shut,’ Nell pacified all her children. ‘That way it’ll be fair.’

  ‘OK, Mum,’ Luke shrugged. ‘I just wish I could’ve got you something better.’ His eyes flashed meaningfully to the door. Their father had sneered at the ceremony of exchanging gifts, and had taken himself for a cigarette in his parlour. The older children all knew of his meanness. He could afford cigarettes and beer, but scarcely a penny for them.

  ‘And I’ve got you this, Mum,’ Hillie said quietly, handing Nell another small packet. Like the others, it was wrapped in brown paper, but at least it was tied with a length of coloured string, the only thing she’d ever purloined from her work in the packing shed. But it was only a small piece, just about long enough to tie round the minuscule present that would have been no use at Price’s and therefore thrown away.

  ‘Oh, a lipstick.’ Nell’s eyes shone for her eldest daughter. ‘Thank you, love.’

  ‘And thank you for the mittens and the beret, Mum. They’re lovely. You’re so good at knitting.’

  ‘Yes, thanks, Mum,’ the others chorused, since they’d all received something made by Nell’s hand: a scarf or a pair of gloves, and a jumper for Luke who’d grown so much and was in desperate need of something to fit.

  ‘Well, let’s lay the table now, ready for dinner. It’s only scrag end of lamb, I’m afraid, but I’ve got a surprise for pudding,’ Nell winked.

  ‘Can we put out the crackers we made?’ Frances wanted to know.

  ‘Of course!’ Hillie grinned, remembering the laughter she’d heard coming from the kitchen when she returned from work the previous evenings and found her mum and the others up to their eyes in newspaper and glue. ‘And Price’s gave us each a decorated pillar candle this year,’ she went on. ‘I’ll put mine on the table, too, to make it look pretty, but we won’t light it until it gets dark.’

  ‘Best leave your dad’s one on the mantelpiece,’ Nell commented to Hillie under her breath. ‘He might go mad if it’s moved. And when we’ve done that, we’ll play some games until it’s time to put the vegetables on,’ she went on, lifting her voice again. ‘But bett
er not make too much noise so we don’t disturb your father.’

  When all was prepared, Nell produced an old snakes and ladders board that had been hers as a child, which kept everyone happy until it was time to eat.

  ‘Isn’t it ready yet?’ Harold demanded, barging into the kitchen.

  ‘Almost, dear. You just sit down and relax.’

  ‘Huh,’ came the grunted reply. ‘And I suppose I’ve got to open my own beer.’

  ‘Well, if you’re not too busy,’ Hillie retorted, and just dodged her father’s flying hand. But ignoring the gesture, she said brightly to the others, ‘Open the crackers carefully now, and see what’s inside.’

  The crackers were merely twists of newspaper, and inside each was a halfpenny bar of chocolate and a newspaper hat. Daisy’s Robin Hood-style contraption was too big and fell down over her eyes, making everyone laugh, except her dad who considered it all a load of bunkum. While Luke swapped his Nelson hat, which was too small, with Daisy, Harold tore his in half.

  Hillie struggled to hold her anger in check, but as soon as Christmas dinner was over, the surprise being a plum pudding Nell had made especially, Hillie announced that she was going to call in to see Gert.

  ‘Huh, if you must desert your own family on Christmas Day!’ Harold growled. ‘Well, don’t you be long, or I’ll be coming to get you.’

  ‘No, I won’t, Dad,’ she answered, seething, and hurrying down the hallway, let herself out of the front door, gulping in her freedom. No, she wouldn’t be long. But if she didn’t get away from her dad for an hour, she thought she would scream. Some Christmas Day! She couldn’t get to the Parkers’ quick enough!

  *

  ‘And where d’you think you’re going, missie? You spent half the afternoon at the library, and now you’re wanting to go out again.’

  Harold poked his angry face so close to Hillie that she could see the individual hairs up his nose. It was Saturday afternoon, and New Year’s Eve. When Price’s had closed at lunchtime, Hillie had indeed gone to the library to change her book. But Gert had gone with her, and afterwards they’d spent some time window shopping since Hillie wanted to put off for as long as possible going home and putting up with her dad’s obnoxious presence.

  ‘I’m going out, of course,’ Hillie answered him crisply now. ‘It is New Year’s Eve. And it’s Sunday tomorrow, so I haven’t got to get up early for work in the morning.’

  ‘And what if I say you’re staying here?’ Harold snarled, grasping her arm so tightly that his fingers pinched her even through her coat sleeve.

  Hillie lowered her eyes slowly to her arm, and then raised them again to meet his gaze with steady determination. ‘Then I’d go anyway. People are expecting me, and they’d wonder why I didn’t turn up.’

  ‘And what people would that be, then?’

  ‘Belinda’s family are having a party and she’s invited Gert and me. You know, Belinda in the office? Who got the job I might’ve done if you hadn’t ruined my application. I haven’t forgotten that, even if you have.’

  Hillie saw the mere shadow of guilt flicker across her father’s face. ‘So where does this Belinda live, then?’ he sneered.

  ‘Parsons Green,’ she snapped back.

  ‘Parsons Green!’

  ‘Yes, you know, on the other side of the river.’

  ‘I know where it is, you cheeky monkey! Well, I won’t have you wandering back all the way from there in the middle of the night, even if you are with that Gert hussy.’

  His words were like a red rag to a bull. ‘Don’t you dare speak about Gert like that! And we won’t be walking back. One of Belinda’s brothers is going to bring us home in his car.’

  ‘So you’ve got it all worked out, then?’

  ‘Of course. I’m not the fool you take me for, you know. So you can let go of my arm and get yourself off down the pub to enjoy yourself, knowing I’ll be perfectly safe and you won’t have to worry about me,’ she concluded with burning sarcasm.

  Harold’s eyes narrowed, but then he released his fingers, raising his hand in a mocking gesture. ‘I might stay in actually, and enjoy the evening with your mother.’

  Hillie didn’t like the way he said it, but then she wasn’t meant to, was she? She knew he wanted her to think he meant to take her mother upstairs for an early night once Luke had got into his pull-down bed in the kitchen. The devil was trying to goad her into changing her mind, wasn’t he? And a vile, sick feeling landed in the pit of her belly. But if it wasn’t then, it would be some other time. And if her mother refused to do something about it, why should Hillie feel responsible? She’d made several more attempts to persuade Nell to try and escape Harold’s clutches, but each time her mum insisted that she wouldn’t leave.

  But the fact was, Hillie did feel responsible. At that moment, though, it seemed pretty pointless, whereas defying her dad was paramount. So, although she was seething, she gave what she hoped would appear as a casual shrug and rammed on her head the gaily patterned knitted beret her mother had made her for Christmas. ‘I’ll see you next year, then,’ she said flatly, wishing it meant in a year’s time rather than the following day!

  She stepped outside onto the pavement, making a conscious effort to tamp down her resentment. She’d have liked to slam the door, but that would only give her father the satisfaction of knowing that he’d angered her. He really made her blood boil. If only she could be free of him, but she couldn’t see any way she could ever have him out of her life while he had this unidentified hold over her mum. And she certainly wasn’t going to leave her mum to face him alone! There were times when she wanted to scream, but what was the point?

  She covered the few yards to Gert’s house, shivering not just from the cold. The smell of damp was sharp in her nostrils, mixed with the heavy tang of coal smoke spiralling from every chimney. There wasn’t a breath of breeze to blow it away and it caught at the back of her throat. But she was used to it, and wasn’t going to let it spoil her evening out.

  Most people she knew were too broke after Christmas to celebrate New Year, and it was the first time she’d ever been invited to a New Year’s party. She could scarcely contain her excitement. Mind you, she hadn’t told her dad that before they walked across Wandsworth Bridge towards Belinda’s home, she and Gert would be calling into the Falcon. Jimmy didn’t normally work there on a Saturday night, but with it being New Year’s Eve, the landlord wanted extra staff and Jimmy didn’t want to turn down the chance of extra pay. He’d be busy behind the bar until midnight as the pub had extended its licence for the evening. So Hillie and Gert were going to spend an hour or so there before they went on to the party. It was only the second time either girl had been in a pub, and being under eighteen, they’d only be allowed to have a soft drink. But as neither of them had ever tasted alcohol, they hardly minded.

  ‘You look nice, ducks,’ Eva said as Hillie went into the kitchen at Gert’s house. ‘Oo, you got them proper stockings on? That Belinda girl gave our Gertie a pair for Christmas and all.’

  Hillie bit her lip. If she’d got the job, it would have been her giving everyone nice presents. Not that she felt any resentment towards Belinda herself. She’d turned into a good friend, and it was kind of her to be so generous.

  ‘Wish I had some decent shoes to go with them, mind,’ she answered. ‘These are falling apart. Tell you what, though. Some nice warm boots wouldn’t come amiss. It’s turned cold tonight after all the mild weather we’ve had.’

  ‘Better wrap up warm, then,’ Gert pronounced, breezing into the room. ‘Mum’s lent me her best coat, see?’

  ‘Well, can’t go out, can we, with me mum and the little uns?’ Eva said almost apologetically. ‘Me and Stan’ve got in a few bottles of stout and we’re going to cuddle up in front of the fire, ain’t we, Stan?’

  Hillie had to smile to herself at the crimson that suddenly coloured Stan’s face. It was all so different from what would be going on between her mum and dad, and her heart lurched.

/>   ‘Oh, sounds like someone at the door.’ Stan snatched at the opportunity to change the subject.

  ‘We’ll see to whoever it is on our way out,’ Gert told him. ‘Bye-ee! Have a nice evening!’

  Hillie added her goodbyes, and then followed Gert out into the hallway. ‘Hope to God it’s not my dad decided to try and stop me going out after all,’ she groaned as Gert opened the door. She mentally crossed her fingers, but to her utter surprise, it was Jessica standing on the doorstep.

  ‘Oh, hello!’ Gert said, equally taken aback. ‘We was just going out, but come in for a minute. Anything up?’

  ‘Oh, well, no,’ Jessica stammered as she stepped inside and Gert pushed the door to. ‘I mustn’t make you late.’

  ‘Nah, a minute or two don’t matter for a friend,’ Gert insisted. ‘You must’ve wanted something, or you wouldn’t be here.’

  ‘Well,’ Jessica faltered, ‘you know I said I was going to a party with my parents? That’s why I couldn’t go to Belinda’s. It’s an annual event thrown by Daddy’s boss. I hate going so I pretended I had a headache. And, well… I phoned Patrick and asked him round. But he won’t come unless you two come as chaperones. I know you’re going to Belinda’s party, but I thought that wouldn’t be until later.’

  ‘It isn’t,’ Hillie faltered, and her glance snagged on Gert’s as she bit her lip. ‘Well, the thing is, if you can keep a secret, I’ve got a boyfriend. Only my dad doesn’t approve, so we’re just going to see Jimmy briefly at the pub where he’s working tonight before going to the party. You won’t say anything, will you?’

  ‘Hardly. Not with you knowing about me and Patrick,’ Jessica assured her. ‘But if you’re going out now—’ she went on, sounding a little crestfallen.

  ‘No, that’s OK. We could go a bit later. But are you sure about this, Jessica? What if your parents come back early?’

  ‘No, they won’t,’ Jessica told them. ‘Daddy likes to suck up to his boss, and won’t leave till the very end. And I like to see Patrick, if only for an hour. I checked up and he who he says he is.’

 

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