‘How very kind of them,’ said Norma, ‘especially as they’ll be so busy over the Christmas period. I think Janice has really accepted me, hasn’t she? I know it must have been hard for her, losing her mum and then embarking on a career change.’
‘I don’t think there was ever much opposition from Janice once she’d got used to the idea. She’s a sensible girl, and she had Phil with her, of course. Their friendship was starting to develop so she had other things to think about. I’m glad they decided to make a go of it. We liked Phil straight away, Lilian and me, when she brought him home. I know Lilian would be pleased to see them happily married and doing so well.’
‘And there’s been a change in Ian, hasn’t there, since he started at the college?’ said Norma. ‘He seems much more relaxed and at ease with himself now.’
‘Yes, I’m relieved he’s settled down and decided what he wants to do. I was quite surprised, though, when he decided to go into the catering business. But I know he’s always admired Phil; he looked on him as an elder brother, although he had it in his mind that they would stay in Blackpool and run a guest house here after they were married.’
‘Yes, poor lad! He lost his mum and then he found out his sister would be leaving. I’m not surprised he resented me at first.’
‘Yes … I’m sorry. He could be damned awkward and moody. And I must admit I wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. You were so patient, love, and understanding, when I’m sure you must have felt like throttling him!’
Norma laughed. ‘Well, we’re OK now, Ian and me. He’ll be over there in Harrogate, helping them out, won’t he, when we go? He’ll probably think he’s got away from us for a while until we turn up again, like a bad penny!’
‘He won’t bother. Like you said, he’s much more relaxed about everything now. And don’t forget, he’ll be seeing his girlfriend, Sophie, while he’s there. He doesn’t say very much about her – can’t expect him to – but we’ve seen letters with a Leeds postmark, haven’t we? I’m sure he’ll be looking forward to seeing her again.’
‘They’re only young, though, Alec. And Sophie’s a year older than Ian, isn’t she? She’s at a coed college, I believe; there are young men there as well as girls. She’ll no doubt meet lots of different people. It’s too much to expect that she won’t meet someone else, and Ian too, of course. He goes out a lot more than he used to. Where is he tonight?’
‘I don’t know,’ replied Alec, ‘and I didn’t ask. We can’t treat him like a child any more. He’s never all that late coming in and he never has too much to drink.’
‘He shouldn’t be in pubs at all, should he?’ said Norma. ‘He’s only seventeen.’
‘Yes, I know, but he looks older and I’m sure bar staff turn a blind eye unless there’s any trouble. I know I have to let go of the reins and trust him, and I’m sure he won’t let us down.’
FOUR
Cissie Clarkson pulled her chair closer to the fire and took a long drag at her cigarette. With a cup of tea on a stool at her side, she was relaxing after taking Paul to his infant school, just five minutes’ walk away.
The house felt quiet without him, although Holly was still at home, now playing quietly on the hearth rug with her dolls and teddy bear. She had always been a quieter, much more gentle child than Paul, although the two of them had got along well together, probably because they were quite close in age. Paul was now four-and-a-half and had started school three months ago. Holly would be three on Christmas Day, now only a couple of weeks away. She missed her brother and didn’t understand why she couldn’t go to school with him.
‘Mummy … when can I go to school, like Paul?’ was her constant cry.
And Cissie tried to placate her, saying, ‘Soon, love; perhaps after Christmas, when you’re three. It won’t be long.’
She hadn’t told her, though, that it would not be the school that Paul attended. There was a playgroup not very far from the school and Cissie had made enquiries there. Yes, they would be willing to take Holly; in fact, they took children as young as two-and-a-half, provided they were no longer in nappies and were quite happy about being parted from Mummy. Cissie’s neighbour, Megan, who lived a few doors away, took her little girl, Kelly, there each day, so Cissie felt sure that Holly would settle in spite of being separated from her brother.
‘And then what will I do with so much free time on my hands?’ Cissie asked herself. Not all that much time, really, because the playgroup was only in the morning, although the children could stay for lunch, if the parents wished, at a nominal charge.
Paul stayed for school dinners, as did most of the children. He went off each Monday morning with his five shillings of dinner money – two half-crown pieces – in an envelope tucked away safely in his pocket. He enthused about the dinners: meat and potato pie, big fat sausages, spaghetti in tomato sauce and sometimes even fish and chips. And the yummy puddings: jam roly-poly, spotted dick, jelly and custard … He even liked the rice pudding, which some children hated, served with a dollop of red jam that they stirred to make the rice turn pink. Paul seemed to like them all. He had never been a picky eater but Cissie wondered if her culinary efforts did not match up to the dinners served at school. Fortunately they were cooked on the premises in the school’s own kitchen, not delivered in tins as was the case at many of the schools.
Cissie had settled down well to her duties as a housewife and mother, to the surprise of many of her friends, who remembered her as a carefree, sometimes irresponsible girl. She had, in fact, surprised herself. Paul had been born only six months after their marriage. Cissie, at first, had regretted what had happened and resented her loss of freedom. Her bitterness, however, had been short-lived, and when Holly was born eighteen months later her new-found joy in her marriage was complete.
There had been one or two upsets and misunderstandings but they were on an even keel again now and looking forward to Christmas.
Paul was in a constant state of excitement about all that was happening at school. Next week would be a very busy time, with the school concert and then a party for all the children, when they expected a special visitor with a sack of presents.
Cissie had received an invitation to the concert but she was sorry that Walter, like most of the fathers, would be unable to attend as it was in the afternoon. She had provided Paul with a striped tea towel, as requested, for his part in the performance.
‘It’s to wear round my head, Mummy, ’cause I’m one of the people who live in Bethlehem – that’s where baby Jesus was born – an’ I can wear my dressing gown.’
He’d explained that he didn’t have anything to say. The important parts like Mary and Joseph, the shepherds and the kings were for the older children, but she understood that every child took part, if only in a small way. And they all sang the carols. Every night they were entertained with Paul’s rendition of ‘Away in a Manger’ and ‘We Will Rock You’, with Holly joining in as well.
‘And we’re making all sorts of surprises to bring home, Mummy, but it’s a secret.’
He had asked for the inside of a toilet roll and an empty washing-up liquid – or similar – bottle, so she was looking forward to seeing the masterpieces that were being created.
‘I can’t wait for this one to start school!’ her friend, Val, had said with feeling when she had seen her the previous week. ‘Well, not school; playgroup, perhaps, if they’ll take him. They might teach him to behave himself. I’m blessed if I can!’
Cissie had taken Holly on a bus up to Queensbury to visit her friend. Val had found it difficult to get to Cissie’s home with six-month-old Lucy in the pram and Russell to cope with as well.
Cissie felt concerned to see her friend so harassed but Russell really was a little demon. She could not recall that Paul had ever been so bad, although he had had his moments. They had not been in the house very long before Russell had snatched Holly’s doll and thrown it across the room, making the little girl cry. No harm had been done as the doll had landed
on the carpet with its china face intact.
Val had chastised Russell, shaking him a little and telling him he was a very naughty boy.
‘Now say you’re sorry to Holly.’
‘Sorry …’ he’d said, looking sheepish for a moment, then he’d snuggled up to Val, wanting attention. She’d ruffled his reddish golden hair and given him a quick hug.
Holly had stopped crying when she saw her precious Belinda was not hurt, and the two children were persuaded to ‘play nicely now’, with building bricks and toy cars while their mothers had a cup of tea.
‘He’ll settle down, you’ll see,’ Cissie had tried to convince her friend, although, secretly, she thought the child was getting out of control. Val was such a sensible person; one she had thought could cope with almost anything.
Russell was a bonny little boy but, understandably, he did not resemble either of his adoptive parents. Val was dark-haired and so was baby Lucy, and Sam’s mid-brown hair had no trace of auburn. It seemed as though Russell would be red-haired with, possibly, a temperament to match. Only time would tell.
‘I certainly hope he’ll settle down soon,’ Val had said in answer to her friend’s remark. ‘I keep thinking about what Sam’s mother said; that he might inherit bad traits from his real parents; his father, she meant, of course. She was very much opposed to us adopting Russell. Sam’s dad tries to show no difference in his attitude to the two of them, but I’m afraid that Beatrice makes it quite obvious that Lucy is the favourite. She makes such a fuss of her and Russell can’t help but notice it.’
‘She should have more sense, silly old cow!’ Cissie had said in her usual forthright way. ‘So … are you looking forward to Christmas?’
‘I suppose so …’ Val had answered doubtfully. Then, ‘Yes, of course I am,’ she’d amended. ‘It’s more fun when you have children, although Russell is rather young to understand fully about Father Christmas and Lucy is still a baby.’
‘Father Christmas will be visiting both of them, though, won’t he?’
‘Oh, yes, we took Russell to Bradford to see him. He was rather overawed for once but he managed to say that he wanted a car and a fire engine. We told him Father Christmas would come if he was a good boy and he was very good for that day. We’d left Lucy with my mum so he had our undivided attention. He’s having a pedal car for Christmas,’ she’d whispered, although the children hadn’t seemed to be listening to the conversation. ‘That was Sam’s idea; he had one when he was a little boy and he loved it. What about you? What is he bringing to your house?’
‘Paul wants a tricycle, and Holly …’ The little girl had looked up at hearing her name. ‘Holly, tell Auntie Val what you want Father Christmas to bring,’ Cissie had said.
‘A doll’s pram,’ Holly had replied, ‘and a baby doll with lots of nice clothes. And Paul wants a tricycle.’
‘Well, we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we?’ Cissie had said. ‘It’s her birthday, of course, on Christmas Day,’ she’d added quietly, ‘so we’ll have to make sure she doesn’t miss out. It makes it an expensive time but it isn’t her fault, is it, that she was born at Christmas? Now, am I going to have a look at my goddaughter before we go?’
Lucy had been upstairs having her afternoon nap. ‘Of course,’ Val had said. ‘It’s time she was awake. I’ll go and get her.’
She’d returned with the wide-awake baby, who’d had no objection to being nursed and fussed by her Auntie Cissie.
‘Isn’t she lovely, Mummy?’ Holly had said, gently stroking the baby’s cheek. And Lucy had smiled at her, her little face lighting up as though she knew her.
Russell hadn’t looked up. Cissie had been aware that he was scowling. He’d started to make loud ‘brumm, brumm’ noises with his cars, crashing them into the table legs.
Cissie had handed Lucy back to her mother. ‘Show me your favourite car, Russell,’ she’d said to the little boy. ‘I like this one.’ She’d picked up a bright red sports car. ‘I wish I had a car like this.’ But he’d shook his head and scowled again. Val had looked annoyed but knew better than to force him to comply. It would do more harm than good.
‘Well, it’s time we were going,’ Cissie had said cheerfully. ‘We mustn’t be late meeting Paul from school. Come along now, Holly. Say bye-bye to Auntie Val and Russell …’ Cissie had bent down to give the little boy a hug but he had not responded.
Val had kissed Holly’s cheek then put her arm round her friend. ‘See you again soon, Cissie. Love to Paul and Walter …’
‘Russell’s a naughty boy, isn’t he, Mummy?’ Holly had remarked as they walked to the bus stop. ‘I don’t think I like him very much. But I like Lucy.’
‘Perhaps he was just feeling a bit cross,’ Cissie had answered. ‘We do sometimes, don’t we?’ She had thought to herself, though, that Holly’s reaction was no doubt the same as that of many other people. Poor Val! Cissie hoped that her friend had not made a dreadful mistake.
Cissie, in common with many other mothers who were watching, brushed away a tear as the children performed the age old nativity play. Holly, sitting next to her, was enthralled by it all. The angelic-looking Mary, gazing tenderly at the doll in her arms, and Joseph standing proudly by her side; the shepherds with tea towel headdresses slightly awry; and the kings, resplendent in gold cardboard crowns and robes created from mothers’ old evening gowns. Paul, as he had said, was ‘just a person from Bethlehem’, but he sang lustily and was clearly enjoying it all.
There was a fun part to the concert as well as the story of baby Jesus. Children dressed as Christmas crackers, fairies and teddy bears, and rousing choruses of ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’ and ‘Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer’.
The party also was a great success, according to Paul – a yummy tea of potted meat sandwiches, jelly and ice cream and sticky buns. And Father Christmas was there with presents for all the children. A Ladybird book for each of them; Paul’s, to his delight, was about various models of cars and vans. He confided, however, that he didn’t think it was the real Father Christmas.
‘We saw a man who looked just like him talking to Mrs Jones afterwards,’ he said. ‘He’d taken off his red coat but his face was all fat and jolly.’
‘You’re probably right,’ agreed Cissie. ‘He has a lot of helpers because he can’t be in so many places at once, can he?’
‘No, I s’pose not, said Paul thoughtfully.
She wondered how long it would be before the penny dropped entirely. Not for a few years, she hoped. It was good to keep the magic as long as possible.
On the last day of term, he brought home the surprises they had made, including a card with a rather lop-sided snowman with a printed greeting inside. To Mummy and Daddy. Happy Christmas, Love from Paul. It had been copied from the blackboard as the children were still in the very early stages of reading and writing, but his printing was clear and not too wobbly. A calendar depicted a bowl of flowers made from gummed paper shapes. The toilet roll middle had been used to make a cracker containing dolly mixtures and the washing-up liquid bottle was transformed into a table decoration: Father Christmas with a red crepe paper coat, a hat and a cotton wool beard.
‘It’s to put on the table on Christmas Day when we have our dinner,’ Paul announced proudly. And Cissie agreed that it would look lovely and add just the right finishing touch.
FIVE
Ian was enjoying his catering course now he had become accustomed to the newness and the challenge of it all. It was vastly different from being at school; they were treated as adults rather than adolescents. Many of them, of course, were older, having decided on a career change, and others were similar in age to himself, in their late teenage years. There were girls – or women – as well as men, about fifty-fifty in proportion. This, also, was a change for Ian. He had attended an all-boys’ grammar school and had never had a great deal of contact with girls, apart from at the youth club once a week.
He did not find it easy to make new friends. At scho
ol he had had his own set of mates, like-minded boys Gary, Steve and Mike. They had played football together and watched their favourite team, Blackpool, play most weekends. They were all chess addicts, meeting at each other’s houses for games between the four of them. The other three had stayed on in the upper-sixth form while Ian had branched out in another direction. He still saw them occasionally, although they had found another fourth member to play chess with them. Ian missed them but knew that he must settle down and concentrate on his new course of studies.
He was looking forward to spending Christmas in Harrogate once again with his sister and brother-in-law. At first, he had regarded his visits there as an escape from the situation at home with his father’s new wife, Norma, and the changes that their marriage had brought about. Also, he had missed his sister, Janice. Although they were six years apart in age, they had been good friends, and he had liked Phil as well. He had watched him at work in the kitchen and had admired his skill and dedication to his career, so much so that Ian had decided this was what he wanted to do. So now, in mid-December, he was ready to show his sister – and brother-in-law – how he had progressed in his studies. And, of course, he would see Sophie again.
She was his first girlfriend. He had been surprised and flattered when she had agreed to go out with him; she was a year older than Ian and was already in the sixth form at her grammar school. When they became friendlier, however, he realized that she, also, was not very experienced with regard to the opposite sex. They were still just good friends, happy to enjoy kisses and loving embraces but nothing more than that. Ian knew, though, that Sophie was at a coed college and he wondered if she might meet someone else there who was more mature and worldly-wise than he was.
Ian’s course was comprehensive, covering all aspects of catering. Hotel management, bookkeeping, the full range of cookery – baking, pastry-making, meat and fish dishes, preparation of vegetables, desserts and puddings, cakes and fancy gateaux, and the planning of menus. There were sixty students in all, divided into groups for the different lessons and lectures.
Pastures New Page 4