A Family Christmas

by Glenice Crossland

  ‘Well?’ Jane looked from one to the other.

  Ben couldn’t meet his sister’s eyes. ‘What good’s a well without a bucket?’ He attempted a joke but it fell on deaf ears.

  ‘We ought to at least consider it.’

  ‘It’s what me mam wanted, something better for her youngest.’ Lucy felt the tears gathering.

  ‘Right then, I’ll just ’ave to put off marrying Emma and remain an old bachelor,’ Ben sighed.

  ‘No, Ben. You must marry Emma. There must be another way. Perhaps if we approach the pit management. Tell them we’ll pay the rent regularly.’

  ‘It won’t work. There’re men waiting for these houses.’

  ‘Oh! If only we could find another house to rent.’ Jane paced the floor. ‘There’s none to be had anywhere. They’re snapped up as soon as they become vacant.’

  ‘Have you and James been looking for one?’ Lucy was surprised.

  Jane blushed. ‘Well, we’ve made a few enquiries.’

  ‘What about you, Ben? Where will you live?’

  ‘With Emma’s mother. She needs someone with her because of the fits she keeps ’aving. Besides, it’s her own ’ouse and it’ll be Emma’s one day.’ Emma ran a general grocers and lived with her mother in accommodation attached to the shop.

  ‘So you’ll be able to leave the pit and work in the business then?’

  ‘Well I daresay I could, but I shall probably stay. I’d miss the pit, and the men.’

  ‘And our Will’ll be unhappy there.’ Lucy took a hot pot from the oven; it had been simmering all day. The aroma wafted out of the house and along the row, greeting William and Ernest Slater as they came home from chopping wood for Mrs Rawlings. ‘That smells good,’ Ernest said.

  ‘Aye, better than me mam used to make. She’s a good cook, our Lucy.’ William was oblivious to the problem facing his brother and sisters. ‘See yer later.’ The lads had the few coppers they had earned from the wood chopping, enough for a game of billiards.

  Nellie Gabbitas collected the letters from the postman. ‘Kettle’s boiling,’ Mrs Cooper called. The postman propped his bike against the wall and came into the kitchen. Nellie hurriedly sorted through the envelopes, hoping for one with her name on it. Young Lily stood watching her, almost as excited as Nellie.

  ‘Come on then, Lily, get that tea mashed. Posty’ll be parched after peddling all’t way up that hill.’

  The man wiped the sweat from his forehead with his cap. ‘Aye, I’m right ready for a drink and no mistake. It’s been a busy morning. Somebody’s sent letters to all the houses on’t new estate at Millington. Advertising summat or other, but I’m not sure what. I think it’s advertising a delivery service but I could only see a bit of writing through the envelope.’

  Nellie found what she was looking for. ‘I hope you don’t sneak a look at everybody’s letters,’ she said good-naturedly, happy now there was a letter for her with a Blackpool postmark.

  ‘Eeh no, lass, only the ones going to all the ’ouses. Never the personal ones.’

  Lily handed him a pot of tea. She wished he would hurry up and go so she could hear what was in Nellie’s letter. She thought it was the most romantic thing she had ever heard of. Except for Catherine and Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights. Mr Smith was good like that, letting them borrow books from his library.

  ‘What’s he say?’ Lily asked as soon as the postman had gone.

  ‘I don’t know, I haven’t read it yet.’

  ‘Oh go on Nellie; read it, please.’

  ‘Shut up, yer nosy haporth. Nellie’ll read it when she’s good and ready. Anybody’d think it were you ee was writing to.’

  ‘Ooh, I wish it was.’ Lily wasn’t concentrating on her work.

  ‘There’ll be no potato left when you’ve done peeling it. Yer asking for a clout, you are.’

  Lily knew Mrs Cooper would never hurt her but she’d better behave. Her mam wouldn’t only clout her, she’d murder her if she got the sack. ‘Sorry, Mrs Cooper.’ She peeled the rest of the vegetables as thinly as she could, keeping an eye on Nellie all the time in case she decided to read her letter.

  My dear Nellie,

  You may consider it presumptuous of me, writing without your permission; if so I apologise. The truth is you are on my mind all my working day and in my dreams at night. Your face is there in my mirror as I make myself presentable in the morning and there before me as I conduct my business at the garage.

  I think I am in love. I know I am in love. Dare I hope that you feel for me just a little of what I feel for you? If so, then maybe you will have dinner again with me, this Saturday at eight o’clock. I shall call for you at seven and we shall take the road to Derbyshire to an old coaching inn where I shall make a reservation.

  Dear Nellie, please don’t disappoint me. I have sought permission for you to leave by Mr Smith. I shall be waiting daily for your reply.

  Your loving servant,

  Tom Johnson.

  Nellie didn’t tell Lily or Mrs Cooper what was in the letter. All she told them was that she had been invited to dinner. All the same it was enough to send Lily into a frenzy of excitement as she decided what Nellie should wear. In anticipation of a further meeting with Thomas Johnson Nellie had taken a trip to Judith McCall’s and bought a new dress; it had taken most of her savings, but she didn’t care. The new dress was of salmon pink crepe de Chine trimmed with brown velvet braid. It fit Nellie like a second skin and the back was bare almost to the waist, so that it was impossible to wear the satin brassiere Nellie usually wore. Miss McCall said it didn’t matter; she said Nellie looked like one of the mannequins who modelled her gowns. As Miss McCall’s gowns were all exclusive designs Nellie had every confidence in her judgement. She had also bought a pair of leather shoes with a bar across in the same shade of brown as the trim on the dress. Nellie had sent for them on impulse to Daniel Neal’s in London and still felt guilty about paying thirty-five shillings for a pair of shoes. On her last date with Thomas Johnson Nellie had worn a short dress and he had been unable to tear his eyes away from her long, shapely legs. Well now he had seen them she decided to keep them hidden and assume a more demure look. If Nellie had but realised, the long, skin-hugging dress turned her into a woman as glamorous as any film star, which was what young Lily told her when Nellie tried on the dress.

  ‘Oh Nellie, you ought to be on’t pictures,’ she exclaimed, jumping up and down in the kitchen until Mrs Cooper put a stop to her enthusiasm.

  ‘Well, I must admit yer do look lovely. Fancy ’im coming all’t way from Blackpool just to take you out for yer supper.’

  ‘Dinner.’ Lily corrected Mrs Cooper, ‘Ee must be madly in love, just like Heathcliff.’

  ‘Oh I suppose he was coming to Yorkshire for some other reason, not just to see me.’ Nellie blushed.

  ‘Well, whatever he’s coming for ee won’t be disappointed. And don’t you forget, mek sure ee keeps ’is ’ands off yer bits and pieces.’ Mrs Cooper’s advice set Lily off giggling.

  ‘Are you going to stand theer all day laughing like a hyena or are yer going to fetch that washing in before it gets mucky again?’

  Lily scurried off with the clothes basket; she felt as excited as if Mr Johnson was taking her out to dinner. She thought she might have her hair cut in the same style as Nellie and then she might attract someone like Mr Johnson.

  On Saturday night Nellie’s heart was beating fifty to the dozen. Lily had forgone her evening off so that she could see the couple set off on their evening out. At five to seven Lily’s sharp young ears heard the motor coming up the drive. ‘Ee’s ’ere.’ She called Nellie, who had gone for yet another look at herself in the long hall mirror.

  Young Larry was waiting to open the door of the car. ‘Oh lor, it’s like a peep show.’ Mrs Cooper complained about the youngsters but had adjusted the curtain so that she didn’t miss anything.

  Nellie picked up her evening bag – another waste of her savings, she thought – and went to
meet her escort.

  Thomas took her hand, kissing it before helping her into the car. ‘Oh Nellie,’ he whispered. ‘You’re even more beautiful than I remembered.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Nellie smiled. ‘I expect it’s my new dress.’

  ‘I hadn’t even noticed your dress, though yes, it is lovely. I was looking at you.’ His eyes searched Nellie’s and she blushed as he held her gaze. Then she waved at the audience she knew was watching as she and Thomas set off to the Strines Inn and dinner. Nellie vowed that on Sunday she would go and tell her sisters about her new romance.

  Mr Grundy had gone off on a rare trip with his wife, leaving Robbie in charge of the joiner’s shop. He had plenty of work to keep him occupied but hadn’t had time to get on with it with a steady stream of customers demanding attention. He seemed to have spent all morning weighing out nails and screws and cutting small sheets of emery cloth and large sheets of plywood. Now at last he was finding time to get on with doing what he liked best: making things. This time it was a bookcase, a beautiful oak affair. He had just finished smoothing down the last shelf ready for polishing when a knock came at the door.

  ‘We’re closed, sorry,’ Robbie called, annoyed at being disturbed. The knock came again. He opened the door to find Prudence Goodman standing there. ‘What do you want?’ Robbie asked, rather ungraciously.

  ‘Nothing. I was just out for a walk and found myself passing.’

  ‘I’m busy.’ Robbie noticed she had dolled herself up more than usual and let down her hair. He still didn’t find her attractive.

  ‘I thought as it was time you were going home we might as well walk home together.’

  ‘I might not have finished for some time.’

  ‘I’ll wait.’ Prudence perched herself on top of a pile of floorboards, prepared to wait all night if necessary, so long as she was in the company of Robbie Grey. The attraction she had felt for him at first had intensified and she found it difficult not to reach out and touch him. The romantic passages in the love books she had read were nothing compared to the feelings taking place inside Prudence Goodman – the stories had awakened her awareness to the opposite sex. Now she would do anything to awaken those same feelings in Robbie. She took off her coat and he noticed her blouse buttons had been left undone. ‘Are you going to stop working and come and sit beside me?’ Prudence crossed her legs, revealing a pair of bare thighs. Not half as shapely as Dot Greenwood’s, Robbie thought. He put down the sandpaper and stood up, grabbing his jacket. ‘All finished,’ he said. Prudence still sat there. ‘Well, are yer coming or aren’t yer? I’m waiting to lock up.’ He stood waiting for her to move. ‘Right then, stay, but I shall ’ave to lock you in.’

  Prudence stood up and flounced towards the door, pausing to block his way. ‘Why don’t you like me, Robbie?’

  Robbie was embarrassed by the question. ‘I do. I mean, you’re all right. I just like Dot more.’

  ‘Oh, her again. She’s common, she’s loud – how can you like her more than me?’

  Robbie almost told Prudence it was because she was a bitch, a spoiled, selfish bitch. ‘I don’t know, I just do. Come on, let’s go home.’ He hurried down the hill with Prudence almost running in order to keep up with him. She was fuming inside, vowing that no matter what she had to do and who she had to hurt, one day she would have Robbie Grey.

  Chapter Eleven

  BEN CONFIDED IN John Grey his worries about William. ‘It isn’t right that he can’t take advantage of the job Mr Brown has offered ’im.’

  ‘Lucy’s worrying about him too,’ John said. ‘She doesn’t think he’ll be suited to pit work.’

  ‘I know. I’ve decided not to marry Emma and give ’im a chance to better ’imself. After all, it was what me mother wanted. And besides, look what this job did to me dad.’

  John wiped sweat from his upper lip with his sleeve, leaving a whiter patch of skin in contrast to the rest of his face. ‘Ben, you can’t not marry Emma; you’ve a right to a life of yer own.’

  ‘I don’t ’ave any choice. I can’t see any other solution to the problem.’

  ‘I can. If only your Lucy would marry me I could take over the house. I’d take care of your Will and he could go work for the greengrocer. The trouble is she’s in no hurry to be wed.’

  ‘There’d be our Jane to consider. I can’t see you wanting to start married life with a ready-made family.’

  ‘Course I would. Jane’d be welcome for as long as she needed a home, though I don’t think she’ll be long before she’s married herself. I know for a fact she and James’ve been looking for a house.’ John grinned. ‘I wish your Lucy was as eager to marry as Jane is.’ The two men carried on with their work, both lost in their own thoughts. It seemed to them that only Lucy could solve the problem, and although Lucy loved John she just wasn’t sure she was ready yet to be married.

  On Saturday John and Lucy went to Sheffield. Each week they added something to their bottom drawer and Lucy loved searching among the market stalls for any bargains. On this occasion it was a mirror that caught her eye. Lucy picked it up. ‘Oh look John; it would be just right over the fireplace.’ It had a beautiful gilt frame and a picture on each end of it, of a lady in a garden. ‘Oh John, I love it. Can we buy it?’

  ‘If it’s what you want.’ John haggled with the stallholder until he managed to knock off a couple of shillings from the original price. Lucy looked at her reflection; her eyes were shining. She had never noticed before but out here in the brightness of the day she was startled by the beauty of the girl gazing back at her. The man wrapped the mirror in brown paper. ‘Just be careful if yer ’ang it over’t fireplace like yer said. I shouldn’t like yer to set yer frock on fire. Don’t want a lovely lass like you getting burned.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Lucy smiled. ‘We’ve got a fire guard.’

  ‘That’s sensible. Are yer planning on getting wed, then?’

  ‘She won’t ’ave me,’ John grinned.

  ‘Well, if she won’t ’ave you perhaps she’ll ’ave me.’

  Lucy giggled. ‘Well aren’t I the lucky one, two handsome men offering me their hands. Come on, you, let’s go and have some tea.’

  ‘Will yer marry me, Lucy? Please.’ John stopped and turned her to face him. ‘I love you.’ He wanted to point out that Will would be able to take the job he desired if only Lucy would marry him. However he knew that if she did marry him it must be because she loved him and not for any other reason.

  Lucy sighed. The desire she felt for John was growing with each passing day, and she wanted him more than anything in the world. ‘I’d have to look after our William. I promised me mam.’

  ‘Course we’d look after him. We’d look after him together. Does that mean you’ll marry me then?’

  Lucy smiled a smile that lit up her face. ‘All right, if you insist.’

  ‘Oh Lucy, I do, I do insist.’ He lifted her off her feet and spun her round, right there in the middle of the market. ‘She said yes,’ he shouted to the marketeer.

  ‘It’s the bloody mirror; it’s a wishing mirror, didn’t I tell yer?’ Then he began to sing, ‘’Ere comes the bride, bowlegged, cockeyed.’ The other stallholders joined in and a flower seller in a large straw hat gave Lucy a bunch of Sweet Williams. ‘Look,’ the woman said, ‘she’s on her way to ’er wedding.’ Lucy blushed as everyone called out to wish them well.

  ‘’Ere,’ a man on another stall came over and gave them a baby’s chamber pot. ‘I expect that’ll come in ’andy before’t year’s out.’ Lucy didn’t know what to do with the enamel pot but she thanked the man for his kindness and managed to stuff it into the carpet bag she was carrying. ‘Oh, John,’ she said, ‘of all the places to propose you had to choose the middle of a market.’

  ‘Sorry.’ John looked shamefaced.

  ‘No, oh no. It’s lovely – all these wonderful people wishing us well; you couldn’t have picked anywhere better. They’re the salt of the earth, these market traders.’

>   Aye, thought John, feeling happier than he could ever remember, and your William’ll soon be one of ’em.

  The news that Lucy was arranging her wedding filled Jane with envy.

  ‘It should have been me first; I’m the eldest,’ she grumbled.

  ‘Well if we’ve to marry according to age that means we’ll be waiting for ever. Our Nellie’s not even courting.’ Now Lucy had made up her mind she couldn’t wait to marry John.

  ‘If only we could find a house,’ Jane sighed.

  ‘You could always live here,’ Lucy pointed out. ‘It’s your home as well as mine and there’ll be me mam’s room empty once our Ben’s gone. I expect he will once John takes over the house. Our Will prefers the attic.’

  ‘No, James wants a home of our own.’

  ‘John would have lived in Barker’s pig sty so long as we could be married.’

  Jane knew James wasn’t in too big a hurry to be married – willing but not eager. ‘No, we’ll wait until we find a place of our own,’ she said.

  Ben was as eager as John. At church the following Sunday the banns were called for Ben Gabbitas and Emma Scott. Also to the surprise of the congregation, for John Grey and Lucy Gabbitas. The brother and sister had decided to make it a double wedding, and because Herbert Goodman was to conduct the ceremony at Millington Church Emma was forced to reside in the town for a few weeks before. Emma decided to stay with Mary and Jacob, travelling back and forth each day to her mother and the shop. Ben realised that travelling to the pit each day once he moved to Emma’s would be awkward and on the Saturday previous to the wedding he came roaring on Top Row on a motorbike. This was such an unusual event that everyone came out to see what all the noise was about and Ben spent Saturday afternoon giving rides to Will and his pals, with warnings from parents to hold tight and be careful. Ben could hear mutterings of how he would end up killing somebody before he’d done.

  The wedding was to take place on the last Saturday in July. Mary made Lucy a beautiful white satin dress with long narrow sleeves and a skirt that flared ever so slightly at the hem. She had a waist-length veil and Mr Brown was to make her a bouquet of red carnations.