‘It’s so long since I saw my mother and father I feel almost as bad as Richard and Ruth,’ Mary said.
‘Oh, come on, it’s not all that long, and they know they’re welcome here any time.’
‘I know, but losing Gladys and Rowland has made me realise how quickly things can happen, I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to my parents when I haven’t seen them for over a year.’
‘Is it really so long? Well then, we’ll get things arranged as soon as possible. I’ll get the tickets tomorrow.’
‘You mean you’ll come with me?’ Mary’s face brightened.
‘I don’t see why not. It’s quiet at the moment except for Wellingtons and boots – shoe sales won’t really pick up till Easter. I’m sure Sally can manage for a week or even two – in fact she’ll probably enjoy it. I’ll put a notice up cancelling repairs until we get back. What about you?’
‘I’ve already arranged it with Yvonne. She’s eager enough if I pay her extra, and I’m sure Avril will help out. She and Alan might even move in here until we get back. If we go now we’ll be back before they move to the new house.’
Avril enjoyed the change, and the company of Yvonne, who kept her up to date with what was happening amongst the young set. Yvonne’s new boyfriend was a rocker; he called for her in the evenings wearing full leather motorcycle gear and a lot of facial hair. Avril had to admit he was well mannered, though, and it was hard to believe he was part of a group rumoured to have clashed with a gang of mods a few weeks previously.
Yvonne said it was untrue, and the culprits were from Barnsley way, and that the Millington rockers were more interested in spending Saturdays tinkering with their own bikes than smashing other people’s scooters. Avril gave her the benefit of the doubt and helped her young friend create a high beehive hairstyle ready for the dance. She felt quite envious when the young couple went off hand in hand after the shop had closed for the weekend.
She still couldn’t take it in about the legacy. Alan was astounded at the amount of money involved. He needn’t worry about a mortgage at all, and would still be quite wealthy even after settling the undertaker’s bill. He felt slightly guilty that the money had come to him instead of his parents, and decided to talk to his father about it. Jack explained it had been done for a reason.
‘It should have been yours and Mother’s by rights,’ Alan insisted.
‘Your mother and I have enough to last us till the end of our days so long as trade keeps as it is now. Enjoy it, son, but spend it wisely,’ Jack advised.
Only Jack had known of Rowland’s intentions. He had discussed his finances at length when Jack was recovering from his illness; in fact he had discussed everything he could think of to reawaken Jack’s interest in the outside world. One day he had said to Jack, ‘Gladys and I are about to make a new will. We’re debating what to do with all our wealth, which is quite considerable.’
‘I hope you’re not going to die on us yet,’ Jack had replied.
‘I hope not too, but one never knows. Of course, when one of us dies it will all belong to the other. But after that we’re uncertain of what to do for the best. You and Mary aren’t the type to sit back in the lap of luxury, and anyway it wouldn’t be good for you in your present state of health.’
‘I’m not going to be ill for ever, but you’re right: I need to be occupied.’
‘So we’re thinking of leaving it to the children.’
‘Richard’s boys?’ Jack asked.
‘Jacqueline and Alan,’ Rowland answered, searching Jack’s face for some reaction.
‘That’d be nice. They’d appreciate a little nest egg-’
‘It wouldn’t be a nest egg, it would be the nest. Moorland House, and all that goes with it.’
Jack hadn’t taken it in at first, unsure what to say. ‘What does Gladys think about it?’
‘Her idea,’ Rowland said. ‘We think the world of Mary, and you of course; not having been blessed with children of our own, we kind of adopted her from the beginning. But with the children it was different – it was they who adopted us. From the first they accepted us as grandparents and they’ve brought us a great deal of joy.’
‘I know,’ Jack said. ‘And I’m pleased.’
‘It would be terrible to think Moorland House was to be sold to strangers after we’d gone, and I don’t think Jacqueline would do that. She loves the house in the same way Gladys does, and my parents did before us. It’s like some powerful obsession they have about the place.’
‘She loves you and Gladys in the same way.’
‘So you won’t be offended then if it misses a generation?’
‘Our kids mean everything to us, you know that, and I can’t think of anything that’d make Mary and me happier than knowing they had security. Not that we’d ever see them short, but our Alan’s so bloody independent.’
‘And you know as well as I do who he takes after.’ Rowland smiled. Jack had nodded and grinned, and the conversation had never been mentioned again.
‘Well,’ Alan was saying, ‘if ever you and Mother need anything you know where to come.’
Jacqueline had said the same, offering them a home at Moorland House should they ever need it.
‘What, and miss all the gossip and scandal of Millington?’ Mary had scowled. ‘No thanks, love. Your dad and me are more than happy where we are.’
Jacqueline walked the rooms of Moorland House in a daze, touching the porcelain figurines Gladys had collected over the years, the school photos of her and Alan, her parents’ wedding photograph on the piano. Even the piano belonged to her, and she still couldn’t take it in.
She walked upstairs into the bedroom used by Grandma and Grandad Roberts for half a century, and saw their clothes in the wardrobe, a nightdress just as Gladys had left it draped over the basket chair. She picked it up and buried her face in its softness, overcome by the scent still on the garment. She sat on the edge of the bed where she had bounced as if on a trampoline as a little girl, and suddenly she caught the pungent aroma of cigar smoke. She turned swiftly, expecting Grandad Roberts to be there in the room. She couldn’t see him but she knew he was present. They were both present, and always would be. No matter how many generations passed through Moorland House, the Robertses would never leave.
She cheered at the thought, the sadness and melancholy of the past weeks draining from her body and leaving her refreshed, and ready for the future. This wasn’t a house for sorrow. She would fill it once more with love, she and Doug together, for the next half-century with God’s help.
She went to the window and opened it wide, letting in the cold fresh air, savouring the glory of the view over Longfield. It was only then that the full impact hit her. This house was hers, all hers, and soon it would be Doug’s too, as soon as the wedding could be arranged. She called out into the stillness of the room, ‘Thank you for the house, thank you for your love and thank you for the memories, and Doug and I will add to them, just like Dad told us, just you see if we don’t.’
Then she ran downstairs and out of the house, locking the door behind her. She had no time to lose. There was a wedding to be arranged.
Apart from organising the wedding Jacqueline threw herself wholeheartedly into her work. She wasn’t certain she was suited to teaching. She adored the children and was happy with the school. She got on well with her colleagues but somehow she wasn’t gaining the satisfaction from the job she had expected. She decided to give it everything she had until after the wedding and then make up her mind what to do.
She had an idea she would be happier running Gardener’s Rest. Her mother wouldn’t like it, would no doubt rant on about wasting all her education, but it couldn’t be helped. Besides, her dad had told her to make memories and nothing could make better memories than being by Douglas Downing’s side.
Chapter Thirty
The wedding ceremony took place at Longfield church, and the vicar was delighted to marry the new owners of Moorland House.
Jacqueline wondered what his thoughts would have been had he known she was regularly attending the Spiritual church in town. But the thought of Grandad and Grandma Roberts in the churchyard helped her decide on Longfield.
The congregation consisted of the whole O’Connor family, the Downings, the Holmeses, and half of Longfield. Father Flynn declined the invitation on the grounds that the journey was becoming too much for him, though Mary couldn’t help wondering if he would have made the effort had the wedding been taking place at St Catherine’s.
Pam, Yvonne and Lucy’s daughter made beautiful bridesmaids in dresses of turquoise organdie designed by Mary, and little Elizabeth in white caused quite a stir. An awkward moment occurred when Yvonne was dressing the little girl and remarked on the birthmark on her back. The moment passed and Mary realised that unless anyone ever told her, there was no way Yvonne could know she possessed an identical one herself.
It was Jacqueline who stole the limelight, in an ivory gown of pure silk, with a train which seemed to go on for ever. Her hair had been tamed for once and piled high to form a dark crown of waves on which was set a coronet of pearls and orange blossom, which Avril had spent all morning trying to perfect.
Jack thought he would burst with pride and even considered refusing to give her away, so dear to him was his daughter. Freddie Cartwright made a handsome usher along with Charlie Barker, on whom Jacqueline insisted on bestowing the honour, despite protests from the family. Charlie was so proud he carried out his duties to perfection, just as Jacqueline had expected.
Jack had insisted on hiring the dance hall for the reception, a buffet affair for which Grandma Holmes thought he had paid through the nose. ‘These posh dos are all very well,’ she remarked to Mrs O’Connor, ‘but you can’t beat a good sit-down tea. With what this lot’s costing we could have had ourselves a three-course meal.’
‘I know what you mean. These pastry things with the fancy French names are not very filling,’ Mary’s mother replied. Mary pointed out that there were far too many guests for everyone to sit down, what with all the customers, most of the teaching staff and a class full of children invited. In fact Alan said he thought half of Millington had gatecrashed the dance which followed the meal.
Mick O’Connor wondered if there would be another fist fight before the night was out. He wouldn’t be surprised with the number of teenagers writhing about on the dance floor. He looked round at his three strapping sons and his sons-in-law, at his grandson and now Jacqueline’s new husband. If there was any trouble they were all big enough to sort it out. Oh, but he was a fortunate man – maybe not rich in money, but with his family all healthy and most of them settled close to the family home, he was richer in love than any millionaire.
Una looked a picture in a dusky pink linen two-piece, and Grandma Holmes thought her young man ever so handsome. He kept the old lady supplied with glasses of brown ale, and the more she drank the more she revealed to him of the family history. He said he couldn’t wait to sample the home-made cakes which Una missed so much now she was working away all the time. Grandma Holmes invited him to tea, and thought how smart he looked in his dark suit and white shirt.
She told Una later, ‘You want to look after your new young man. You could do a lot worse.’ Then she whispered confidentially, ‘He’s much better than that Billy Flame character.’
Una smiled. ‘I hope you haven’t told him that.’
‘Course I ‘aven’t,’ her grandmother said.
‘Grandma,’ Una said, her eyes twinkling, ‘my new young man, as you call him, is Billy Flame.’
Grandma Holmes’s mouth sagged open.
‘Minus the wig and the make-up. Surely you didn’t think Billy was dressed in his normal everyday attire for the stage?’
‘Eeh, well, would you believe it?’ Mrs Holmes was lost for words. ‘Eeh, just imagine, I’ve invited Billy Flame to tea.’
‘Shush,’ Una warned. ‘Don’t let anyone hear or he’ll have no peace for the rest of the night.’
Mrs Holmes sat there bemused, and only came round when Billy Hame dragged her on to the dance floor for the hokey-cokey.
‘Eeh,’ she said to herself. ‘Fancy me dancing with one of them show business folk.’ But she had to admit he did seem nice.
Harry was propping up the bar waiting for the drinks to be served. He stiffened as the voice beside him said, ‘I’ll pay for those.’
He hoped to God Eddie Banwell wasn’t the worse for drink. He opened his mouth to protest, but Eddie didn’t give him a chance. ‘Go on. I reckon I owe you a drink, as a peace offering.’
‘Nay, you don’t owe me owt. I got what I deserved, no more no less. I don’t need any peace offering. I’m not a man to bear malice, never was.’
‘I’m glad about that.’ Eddie paid for the drinks and told the bartender to keep the change. ‘It’s been a grand do.’
‘Aye.’ Harry was uncertain about Eddie Banwell. Surely he wasn’t going to make trouble after all this time, and with his wife and daughter amongst the guests?
Eddie leaned against the bar. ‘I reckon it’s set your brother back a bob or two for this little lot.’
‘Aye.’ Harry smiled. ‘He can afford it. He’s done well for himself has our Jack.’
‘No more than he deserves. They’ve been good to our Yvonne, giving her a job and that.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. According to Mary they couldn’t have employed a better lass.’
Eddie glanced at Harry. ‘Oh, she’s a good lass all right.’
‘She’s a little beauty.’ Harry tried to sound casual. ‘She made a lovely bridesmaid.’
‘Hmm,’ Eddie drawled. ‘Yes, I reckon I owe you more than a pint, Harry.’
Harry looked at the man warily but Eddie only grinned. Then his face turned serious. ‘You’ll never know how much I owe you. My lass means everything to me, and she was the making of Ada too. She’s been a good wife since Yvonne was born. But I’m not blind, and I’d have to be not to know she’s yours.’
‘Oh, come on, man ... ‘ Harry was silenced as Eddie put up his hand.
‘No, no, hear me out. I’m not complaining. It’s obvious I couldn’t have kids – I reckon I’d have had one in every port I ever docked in if I’d been able. I was no angel, not by a long chalk. No, Harry, I love that lass more than life itself, but I know she’s yours.’ The man gave a weak smile but looked closer to tears. ‘Ada doesn’t know I know and she never will. But I didn’t want the likes of you thinking you’d pulled the wool over my eyes.’
Harry didn’t know what to say and just stood there shame-faced. Then he said quietly, ‘I’m not proud of meself, Eddie. There hasn’t been a day since when I haven’t regretted what I did. Every time I walk in the shop, or see Yvonne on the street, I’m haunted by it.’
Eddie picked up the drinks. ‘Don’t be,’ he said. ‘Just keep yer bloody mouth shut, that’s all I ask. I wouldn’t like my daughter to find out, and she is my daughter, just remember that.’
‘She won’t find out from me,’ Harry called, but Eddie had already gone, back to his wife and daughter.
Everybody agreed it was the best wedding ever to be celebrated in Millington, and Jacqueline shed a few tears when the time came to leave for their new home.
‘We’re off now, Mam,’ she said. ‘It’s been a wonderful day thanks to you, and to you, Dad. We hope you don’t mind if we slip off unnoticed – I’m going to cry and I don’t want everyone watching me. Will you come to tea tomorrow? Bring Grandma and Grandad O’Connor – I’d like them to visit us before they go home.’
‘They’re staying a week so you’ll be seeing them anyway, but yes, we’ll come. That’s if you want us to when you’re honeymooning.’
‘We want you.’
Doug saw the tears welling in the eyes of his wife and mother-in-law. He clasped Jacqueline’s hand and they made their exit, leaving their many friends to enjoy the party for a few more hours.
‘At last. I thought I�
��d never get you away.’ Doug kissed her, a long passionate kiss. ‘That’s just to be going on with,’ he promised, and then Jacqueline started the car and they were off on the journey into marriage.
When they’d made love, rested and made love again, Jacqueline looked at the ring her mother had slipped on her finger before they had left for the church.
‘You didn’t tell me my mother was once engaged to your brother.’
‘I thought you already knew. Besides, I was only a nipper at the time; engagements meant nothing to me then. In fact, I can only just remember our Tom.’
‘She’s given me the ring. She wanted me to have it, says it belongs at Moorland House not in Millington.’
‘She must have loved our Tom a lot to have kept it after her marriage.’
‘Yes, she did, she told me. She also told me they’d made love, only once, the Christmas before he was killed, and how she’d blamed herself for the tragedy. Can you imagine anyone being influenced by the church so much so that they think God would punish them for making love?’
‘Well, morals are a lot more lax nowadays,’ Doug pointed out.
‘Do you know, if I hadn’t mentioned what happened at the Spiritual Church, I think she’d have carried on worrying for the rest of her days. The Christmas sin, that’s how she thought of it. She says she must have been blind, not to see all the good things that happened at Christmases through the years. All my mother ever saw were the bad things.’
‘And now she’s finally over it?’
‘Oh, yes. She’s only sorry she made Dad miserable for all those years. Apparently he thought she was pining for her lost soldier, when all she was doing was trying to forgive herself.’ Jacqueline twisted the ring on her right hand. ‘I’m going to wear it all the time. I’m sure your brother would like that. He may even come through at church again and tell me so.’
Doug drew her into his arms. ‘You’re a strange girl,’ he said. ‘But I love you all the same.’
Christmas Past Page 32