Pastures New
Page 9
‘I’ll go and tell him,’ said Cissie, making for the lounge. She returned with her father-in-law and Paul, proudly holding his table decoration.
‘Just wait a bit, love, while we set the table,’ said Cissie, ‘then you can put it in the middle.’
Hannah gave her usual sniff and slight shrug, as if to infer that it was all rather disorganized.
Cissie ignored her as she opened the drawers to get the cloth, tablemats and cutlery. The tablecloth – used only at Christmastime – had a gay design of holly and red poinsettias. The knives, forks and spoons were in daily use, and Cissie chose the ones that looked the most presentable. The tablemats featured brightly-coloured flowers – a different design for each mat. Cissie placed a paper serviette at the side of each fork. These had been bought with the children in mind, with pictures of Santas and snowmen on them. Nothing matched but it all looked very bright and cheerful.
‘Now, Paul, let’s have your Father Christmas,’ said Cissie. ‘Put him there, right in the middle. Look, Nana – doesn’t that look smashing?’
Hannah agreed readily, for once, that it was ‘Just the job!’ She really did think the world of her grandson.
‘All shipshape here now, Mam,’ said Cissie. ‘You go back to the lounge and I’ll see if Millie wants any more help.’
There was, in fact, scarcely room for them all in the small kitchen. Archie was carving the huge turkey and Millie was making a final check on the potatoes and vegetables.
‘I’m going to put it all straight on to the plates,’ she said. ‘I know it’s more correct, like, to put the veg in dishes to help yourself, but I always think it goes cold. They can come back for more. Put the stuffing and the apple sauce on the table, though, Cissie; not everybody likes them. Then you can put out the dinner for the little ’uns. You know how much they can eat!’
When all the meals had been dished out on to the plates, Millie took off her apron and wiped her hot face. ‘Would you go and tell them it’s ready, Cissie, love?’ she said.
They all came into the dining room. Cissie put two cushions on Holly’s chair so that she could reach the table. Paul was able to manage with one cushion and they were both reasonably competent with a knife and fork, Paul having learnt the skill at school dinners. Holly tried determinedly to copy him, as she did with most things, not wanting to be left behind, but Cissie sat next to her to help when she struggled a little.
Millie was wearing a woollen dress in a delicate shade of lavender which toned well with the purplish rinse she had on her greying hair. She was a plumpish woman but well-corseted. She always tried, with success, to make the most of her appearance.
‘New dress, Millie?’ asked Cissie. ‘It suits you; that colour’s just right for you.’
‘Thank you, dear,’ said Millie, looking pleased. ‘Yes, it’s a Christmas present from Archie. I chose it myself, of course, but he chose this brooch. That was a lovely surprise.’ The floral brooch with shiny mauve stones and seed pearls glittered on the lapel.
Cissie noticed her own mother looking a little put out at the compliment to Millie. She could not pay a similar compliment to Hannah as she was wearing the paisley patterned dress that she had worn last Christmas. The two women were not at all alike in looks. Hannah was thin but large-boned, with angular features, and did not bother to ‘tart up’ – as she called it – her iron-grey hair with a coloured rinse. She had a perm about three times a year, and it was obvious from the tight curls that she had recently visited the hairdresser.
Cissie searched around in her mind for something to say to her mother. ‘What has Dad bought for you, Mam?’ she asked after a moment’s hesitation. She knew that her father was always generous with his birthday and Christmas gifts; he did not dare to be otherwise.
‘Oh, I’ve got a new coat,’ said Hannah, preening herself a little. ‘We got it from C and A but it’s from their more exclusive range. It’s a heather mixture tweed with a fur collar.’
‘And very nice it is, too,’ said Millie. ‘It suits you, Hannah.’
Hannah gave a satisfied nod, seemingly mollified now.
The two older men, and Walter, were tucking into their meal, enjoying the food and taking little heed of the conversation between the women. Archie Clarkson and Joe Foster were not dissimilar in looks, both with grey hair, now receding, and a bald patch on top. Both were of a hefty build, though not overweight, and both of them wore spectacles. They were similarly dressed, too, in V-necked pullovers that had been Christmas presents from their wives.
‘Smashing meal, Millie,’ observed Joe. ‘These roast potatoes are just the way I like ’em, all crisp and brown and soft inside … Mind you, Hannah can do a nice roast potato an’ all, can’t you, love?’ he added, looking anxiously at his wife.
Hannah nodded briefly. ‘This sage and onion stuffing is delicious, Millie,’ she said. ‘Have you made it yourself?’ she asked, knowing very well that Millie had done no such thing.
‘Good gracious, no! Of course not,’ replied Millie. ‘It’s good old Paxo. You can’t beat it, even though it’s out of a packet. But I must admit it’s tasty.’ She looked across the table at her grandchildren. ‘They seem to be enjoying their dinner, bless ’em, and aren‘t they managing well on their own?’
‘Holly needs a bit of help,’ said Cissie, cutting the child’s turkey into small pieces. ‘Paul learnt to use a knife and fork at school dinners and Holly’s doing her best, aren’t you, love?’
The little girl nodded. ‘And I’m going to school soon, like Paul. Not the same school, though; the one where my friend Kelly goes.’
Millie looked surprised. ‘Well, now, fancy that!’
‘First I’ve heard of it,’ muttered Hannah. ‘She’s only three, our Cissie. They don’t start school till they’re four, and that’s too soon in my opinion.’
Cissie held back a sharp retort and took a deep breath. ‘It’s not really school … but Holly likes to think it is,’ she added quietly. ‘It’s a playgroup for younger children. They take them at two-and-a-half if they’re ready, so Holly’s quite old enough. Like she said, her friend Kelly goes. Her mother, Megan, is a friend of mine so we’ll be able to go together. It’s on the way to Paul’s school so it’s very handy.’
‘Oh, that’s nice,’ said Millie. ‘You’ll feel lost with both of ’em gone, though, won’t you?’
‘Yes, I know. The house felt really strange when Paul first went to school and I know I shall miss Holly an’ all, though the playgroup’s only in the mornings.’ She decided to take the bull by the horns and be damned to the reaction. ‘I’m thinking I might get a part-time job while they’re both out in the mornings. Like I said, the house’ll feel empty and it’ll be summat for me to do.’
‘What?’ exclaimed Hannah. ‘Haven’t you got enough to do, looking after yer home?’ She nodded knowingly. ‘Aye, I thought you’d get fed up with housework sooner or later, but it’s what we have to do when we get wed.’
Cissie was surprised when Walter made a comment. He was looking at her, and she was pleased to see his almost imperceptible wink and half-smile. ‘Cissie’s a jolly good mother and wife, Hannah,’ he said. ‘None better, and I’m not going to complain so long as she’s there to see to the kiddies, and I know she will be. Anyway, it could only be for a few hours a day.’
Hannah gave her usual sniff but made no comment.
‘Well, it that’s what you want to do, dear, then I don’t see why not,’ said Millie, a little cagily. ‘It would give you a bit of pocket money for yourself. I know money doesn’t go far when you’ve got two children. They grow out of everything so fast, don’t they?’
‘Walter’s got a good job, though, hasn’t he?’ said Hannah. ‘He’s been promoted.’
‘Nothing’s sure these days, Hannah,’ said Walter. ‘Dad and me and Joe were just talking about the mills.’
‘You wouldn’t want to go back to the mill, dear, would you?’ asked Millie. ‘I know you were very clever with all that men
ding you did but I’m sure it must have got a bit monotonous and very hard work, too.’
‘No, I wouldn’t, Millie, but I couldn’t anyway. Walter says they’re not taking any new staff on just now and they’re not replacing folk when they leave, are they, Walter?’
‘That’s true, and it’s the same where Dad and Joe work.’
‘Aye, it’s all this new-fangled stuff from America; that’s where it’s come from,’ said Joe. ‘Nylon and terylene and crimplene and all that sort of stuff. Synthetic fibres, they call them. There’s not as much call for wool now and the orders aren’t coming in as they used to. It’s the same at Walker’s, isn’t it, Walter?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid it is. The bosses have been talking about where they can make cuts.’
‘But your job’s safe, isn’t it, Walter?’ asked his mother.
‘I hope so,’ he replied with a wry grin. ‘Anyway, let’s change the subject. What about your Christmas pud now, Mum? I think we’ve all finished.’
The three women cleared away the plates, Hannah a little condescendingly but aware that it might look bad if she didn’t help.
‘Thank you, Hannah,’ said Millie. ‘A little help is worth a lot of pity, as my mother used to say, God bless her. Cissie’ll help me to dish out the puds, won’t you, love? A smaller portion for Holly but I expect Paul can manage as much as us, can’t he?’
‘You bet he can! He loves his puddings. Rum sauce an’ all. It smells real good, Millie.’
‘And they’re actually homemade, the pudding and the sauce,’ said Mille with a sly grin.
‘Not like the stuffing, eh?’ Hannah was now safely back in the lounge.
‘Take no notice of her,’ said Cissie. ‘She always has to stick her oar in. She’s enjoying it, though, I know she is. She cleaned her plate, didn’t she?’
‘Oh, I know your mother only too well,’ said Millie. ‘We’re the best of friends, you know. I suppose we all have our funny little ways. Now, let’s take these puddings in.’
The puddings, well laced with rum and the rum sauce to add more flavour, were well received by everyone.
‘Delicious, Millie!’ said Hannah, and there was no doubt that she meant it. The rum and the small amount of wine she had had with the meal had put her in a more mellow frame of mind. Cissie exchanged a knowing glance with Millie as she answered, ‘I’m so pleased you enjoyed it, Hannah.’ She couldn’t resist adding, ‘It’s homemade.’
‘The only problem now is the washing up,’ said Archie. ‘We’ll have to get one of them dishwashers, Millie.’
‘Nonsense!’ exclaimed his wife. ‘I’ve never been worried about a few pots. Let’s stack ’em up and forget ’em for now. They’ll keep till later. Come on, let’s get on with the exciting part, shall we? The presents! Are you ready, Paul and Holly?’
The children, with Cissie helping, handed round the gifts. It was always difficult to buy for the men but Archie and Joe seemed well pleased with the lambswool scarves, the always useful socks, and large boxes of their favourite sweets, liquorice allsorts. Hannah and Millie enthused over the gift boxes of toiletries: soaps, talc and bath oil, perfumed with gardenia fragrance for Millie and lavender for Hannah – luxuries they would not buy for themselves. Both mothers were treated exactly the same.
Cissie was not surprised to receive useful presents from her mother, who never ceased to remind her that she was a housewife: a cookery book, and apron and oven gloves – although they did have a pretty design of butterflies. And, more acceptable, a large box of Milk Tray chocolates.
Millie had chosen a very attractive manicure set, with hand cream and a set of small bottles of nail varnish. Cissie thanked them both profusely, not giving the slightest hint as to which present was the more popular.
The two grandmothers had conferred together about what to buy for the children. And, of course, it was Holly’s birthday, so she had to have extra presents. They had gone on a shopping expedition together, ending up at their favourite store, Marks and Spencer. They had each chosen a pretty dress for Holly with matching cardigans, then Millie had chosen fancy socks and underwear, and Hannah a bright woollen hat and gloves, making sure that she spent just as much as her friend.
Millie bought a duffle coat for Paul, a bright blue one to wear when he was not in school uniform, and Hannah bought him checked trousers and a blue jumper.
There were ‘fun’ presents as well: colouring books and crayons, a book with clothes to cut out and fit on a cardboard doll, games of Snap and Happy Families, Ladybird books and boxes of Jelly Babies and Smarties.
Paul and Holly were delighted with their gifts but were ready to go home. They had kept quiet long enough while the grown-ups listened to the queen and then had a cup of tea and a slice of Christmas cake.
‘Thank goodness that’s over for another year,’ said Cissie when they had arrived home and settled down. ‘No … I suppose I don’t really mean that, do I? Your mam makes us so welcome and it’s nice for us all to get together … I suppose.’
‘And next year it will be your mother’s turn,’ Walter reminded her.
‘Perish the thought! Let’s enjoy the rest of the day, shall we? Your mam’s given me some turkey to make sandwiches and there’s Holly’s birthday cake, complete with three candles.’
Walter gave her a hug and kiss. ‘Thanks, Cissie, love,’ he said.
‘Why? What for?’ she asked.
‘Well … for everything. I sometimes forget to say it like I should. Happy Christmas, love.’
NINE
During the second week in the New Year, Janice and Phil had an unexpected visit from their next-door neighbour. Isobel Tarrant owned the florist’s shop adjoining their property, aptly named Bella’s Blossoms; the lady was usually known as Bella to her friends.
Janice answered the knock at the door at just turned seven o’clock, pleasantly surprised to see her.
‘I hope I’m not disturbing you,’ she said. ‘I know you’re usually very busy, but I have some news to share with you.’
‘No, we’re not busy at the moment,’ said Janice. ‘Sarah’s bathed and in bed and Phil has no party in tonight. The evening bookings have dropped off a bit since the New Year so it’s nice to have some time to ourselves. Come on up, Bella …’
Janice took their visitor into the living room where Phil was reading the evening paper. He, too, was pleased to see Bella. She was a good neighbour, busy during the day but willing to babysit on the odd occasions when they went out. Janice brought flowers from her shop to add a touch of colour and brightness to the cafe.
‘A glass of sherry, Bella?’ asked Phil, always an agreeable host.
‘Yes, that would be lovely,’ she replied. ‘Thank you.’ She looked a little anxious as she sat down in an armchair.
‘Not bad news, I hope?’ said Janice when they were all seated.
Bella took a little sip of her sherry. ‘This is delicious. I don’t often indulge myself with treats like this … No, not bad news,’ she went on. ‘I suppose it’s good news, in a way, but I must admit that it took me a long time to make up my mind.’
They both looked at her enquiringly.
‘I’m moving,’ she said. ‘I’ve decided to sell the shop and go and live with my sister. She’s been urging me to do it for quite a while but I was very undecided.’
‘Oh … I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Janice. ‘We’ll both be sorry, won’t we, Phil?’ Bella had become a friend as well as a neighbour.
‘We certainly will,’ said Phil, ‘but you have to do what is right for you. And … you’ve really made up your mind, have you?’
‘Well … yes. I shall be sixty-five my next birthday; retiring age, although I know I could stay on longer if I wished. I really enjoy working in the shop. It’s been a real godsend to me since my husband died; that’s eight years ago now. We were married quite late on in life, you know. I’d turned forty and James was rather older. We never had any children but we were so happy together. It helped
me to come to terms with losing him, to a certain extent, with having the shop to run. But it’s getting harder, especially on these winter mornings.’
‘Where does your sister live?’ asked Janice. ‘Will you be moving far away?’
‘No, not all that far. Dorothy lives in Thirsk; well, on the outskirts of the town. It’s a lovely market town and she’s in a very nice part of the countryside. She’s a widow, too; has been for about five years. They were married a long time, her and Bill. They had two children, and she’s got grandchildren, of course, but they don’t live anywhere nearby. She keeps busy with her WI meetings and her church, and she’s got friends, but she says it’s not the same as family. We’ve always got on well together, Dorothy and me; she’s two years younger and there were only the two of us.’ Bella stopped speaking, looking pensive and a little unsure.
‘It’s a big step to take, giving up your home and your livelihood,’ said Phil, ‘but I’m sure you’ve considered all that, haven’t you?’
‘And you feel you would be happy living with your sister?’ asked Janice.
‘Yes,’ replied Bella. ‘I’ve thought about all the pros and cons. I know I’ll be giving up my home but Dorothy’s house is far too big for her now. She’s never wanted to move, though, since Bill died; I suppose all the memories are there … I’m sure I’ll be happy there. She says I can have my own rooms: bedroom, of course, and a living room to myself for when I want to be on my own. But I expect we’ll have our meals together and sit together in the evenings. We’ll have to see how it works out, won’t we?’
‘And what about your premises?’ asked Phil. ‘Do you intend to sell it as a going concern, for someone to take over the florist’s shop and the goodwill? You’ve built up a good business there, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, I suppose I have. But how many people would want to buy a florist’s shop? It might sell straight away; on the other hand, I could be waiting for ages. It might be best to sell it as a shop with living accommodation, like yours was when you bought it. Vacant possession as well, because I shall move in with Dorothy as soon as I put it up for sale. I wanted you to know before the notice goes in the window.’