But it was early days yet, she told herself. She and Sam had known one another only a short while, too soon, maybe, to be formally introduced to the family. She felt sure, though, that Sam wanted to go on seeing her, that he was already regarding her as his steady girlfriend.
They continued to enjoy their outings together as the weeks went by, and by mid-September Val felt as though she had known Sam for ages. As she had told Cissie, she had not realized how lovely the countryside was around Halifax, once you got away from the smoke and grime of the mill chimneys.
One Saturday afternoon they drove to Shipley Glen, then walked along by the canal and the River Aire. They saw the huge mill at Saltaire, and the village that Sir Titus Salt had had built for his workforce, all the streets named after the children in his large family.
‘A Victorian philanthropist,’ said Sam. ‘He really cared about his workers, like my father tries to do, but his scheme was on a much larger scale.’
One Sunday he told her to put on her strongest walking shoes. They drove to Haworth, the home of the Brontë family and, after viewing the Parsonage, they walked across the moors to High Withens, the setting for Emily Brontë’s novel, Wuthering Heights. Val had to admit that she had never read the book, but decided that she would do so now that she had seen the bleak ruin and the wild moorland landscape. They ended the day with a meal at the Black Bull Inn, the haunt of Bramwell Brontë.
As he said goodnight to her later that evening Sam told her, for the first time, that he loved her. His kisses and embraces thrilled her, but apart from the physical aspect their minds were well attuned, and despite the difference in their backgrounds they found they had much in common.
Her parents liked him very much, and after a few weeks they were quite used to the idea of their daughter keeping company with one of the bosses.
‘Does his father know about it?’ asked Bert Horrocks. ‘He hasn’t mentioned it to me when I’ve seen him around, but then I wouldn’t expect him to.’
‘I’m not sure, Dad,’ said Val. ‘Perhaps it’s rather soon for me to be introduced to the family.
‘I’m sure he’ll do what’s right,’ said her mother. ‘He’s a decent young man, and I can see he’s real fond of you. I reckon it’ll be his mother, though, that’ll be the difficult one. I’ve heard she’s a bit of a tartar. Puts on airs and graces, but she’s no need to, considering where she came from.’
‘How do you know all this, Mum?’ asked Val. She hadn’t realized her mother was acquainted with the woman.
‘They lived not far from us. Her and me, we’re about the same age, though I can’t really say I knew her, not to speak to. Beattie Halliwell, that was her name. She was one of a big family; an ordinary family, same as ours. There was some sort of trouble …’ Sally Horrocks looked puzzled for a moment, deep in thought. ‘No … I’m blessed if I can remember. It’s a good while ago. Anyroad, she went up in the world when she married Joshua Walker. And now she doesn’t want to know the likes of us.’
Val didn’t like the sound of Sam’s mother at all and dreaded the time when she would have to meet her. But all she could do was bide her time and try to make a good impression when she was eventually introduced to the family.
The Walker family lived at Queensbury which was a few miles out of Halifax on the moorland road leading to Bradford. It was a stately mansion standing in its own grounds with a carriage drive where, at one time, horses and carriages drew up to the front door. It had been in the family since the time of Sam’s great-grandfather who had started the mill, and had been handed down from father to son.
Sam’s paternal grandparents were still living, both now in their eighties. They had moved from the family home to a bungalow not far away. Jacob Walker still liked to keep an eye on the business and to know what was going on. Sam had always been very fond of his grandfather, Jacob. Being stocky in build and having a beard he resembled pictures that Sam had seen of the old King George the Fifth, who had died a couple of years after Sam was born. His grandmother, too, was a nice old lady, although it was difficult to think of either of them as being old. There were both active, although Jacob had had to stop driving his car due to failing eyesight, and Grandma Isobel walked with a stick, due to arthritis, but was still a keen member of the Women’s Institute and the local church.
Sam and his brother Jonathan had only a few close relatives. There was Aunt Phyllis, Joshua’s sister, her husband George and their son and daughter. Joshua’s elder brother had been killed in the battle of the Somme in the First World War Joshua had come through it all unscathed, apart from the bad memories which he seldom mentioned.
As far as Sam’s mother, Beatrice’s, relations were concerned, it was as though she had none at all. Sam seldom met his maternal grandparents. His mother had a sister, Hannah, who lived near Bradford. She and Beatrice met very occasionally, but nothing was ever said about the rest of the family. Sam had once asked his father if he had any more aunts or uncles, but his father had answered, ‘Best not to mention them, lad. Your mother doesn’t like to talk about them.’
It was during the first week in September that Beatrice reminded Sam that there was an important event that he would be expected to attend in October. Their maid had cleared the table after the evening meal and the family, Joshua, Beatrice, Jonathan and Sam, were taking their ease in the lounge with an after dinner sherry.
‘Don’t forget it’s your father’s Masonic dinner on the first Friday of October,’ she said, addressing her younger son. ‘It’s an occasion that we all attend, and one where ladies are invited.’
‘Yes, Mother, I hadn’t forgotten,’ said Sam. He had thought that he might invite Valerie along to that occasion, and now was the perfect opportunity to tell his parents of his intention. He had been plucking up courage to tell them about his friendship with the young lady, the courage he needed being for breaking the news to his mother, rather than his father. And now, here was his chance.
But his mother forestalled him before he had time to go on. ‘And of course we have invited Priscilla along to be your partner.’
Sam stared at her in disbelief. ‘You’ve done … what?’
‘You heard what I said, Samuel. I’ve invited Priscilla along as your partner, as she has been for the last two years. Why are you looking at me like that? You know she always comes to the Ladies’ Evening with her parents.’
Sam shook his head. ‘I can’t believe you would do that, Mother, without asking me first. If you have already invited her I suppose she will have to be there, but not as my partner. As a matter of fact, I had decided to invite someone else.’
‘Someone else? But … who?’ His mother’s pale grey eyes were like stones and two red spots had appeared on her cheeks. It was not the first time that Sam had seen his mother in a rage. It happened whenever something displeased her.
‘I met a young lady when I was on holiday in Blackpool,’ he replied, as evenly as he could. He would not exacerbate his mother’s anger by losing his temper. ‘She’s a local girl, she lives here in Halifax, so I’ve carried on seeing her since we returned. And I decided it would be a good opportunity for you to meet her.’
‘But … who is she? You can’t invite a complete stranger to come along to one of our family occasions. And why haven’t you told us about her before? I must say I’m very annoyed with you, Samuel. I don’t know whatever Mr and Mrs Forbes will think. They’ve been expecting to hear about some sort of understanding between you and Priscilla, and so have I. The two of you have been friendly for ages. Oh, what on earth are you thinking about, Samuel, spoiling everything like this?’
‘Whatever you hoped for, Mother, it is only in your imagination,’ replied Sam. ‘There has never been anything between Priscilla and me but friendship. And she would say the same if you asked her. We grew up together, more or less, and she’s a very nice girl, but she’s not the right one for me.’ Sam knew, deep down, that Priscilla might have had other ideas about him at one time. She was a sh
y and insecure girl, the only daughter of rather older parents, who were close friends of his own mother and father. He had taken her out once or twice, but there had been nothing romantic between them. He had tried to let her down gently by behaving in a just a casual, friendly way, and he thought she had got the message.
‘The lad’s right, Beatrice,’ said Joshua Walker. ‘I can see that Priscilla is not the right girl for him. I told you, didn’t I, that you should have consulted him before inviting the lass to come along. So … are you going to tell us, Sam, about this young lady you’ve met in Blackpool? You say she’s local. Is she somebody that we know?’
Sam decided it was time to take the bull by the horns. ‘You could say so, Father,’ he replied. ‘As a matter of fact, she works at our place …’
‘What!’ Sam thought his mother would explode with rage. ‘She’s one of our employees? Oh, Samuel, how could you do this to us? Whatever will people think? You’d better put a stop to this right away before it goes any further. You’re letting yourself down, consorting with one of the … mill girls!’
‘Actually, Mother, she works in the office. Not that it would make any difference to me if she was one of the “mill girls”, as you put it. They are just girls who have to earn their living in the best way they can.’ Just as you had to do at one time, Mother, he was tempted to say, but knew that he would never dare to mention such a thing. ‘She’s called Valerie, and she was on holiday with her friend who does work in the mill, in the burling and mending room. Another very nice girl, and we all spent some time together, myself and Jeff and Colin and the two girls. But Valerie and I knew straight away that we … liked one another.’
Sam’s brother, Jonathan, had been quiet until now, listening but saying nothing, an amused and supercilious expression on his face. ‘Valerie …’ he said now. ‘Valerie … what’s she called? Hornby, Hoskins …?’
‘Valerie Horrocks,’ said Sam, looking pointedly at his brother. ‘She knows you, of course. She deals with your correspondence sometimes.’
‘Yes, a dark-haired girl, slim and … not bad-looking, I suppose. Competent enough at her job. But, as mother says, it will not do at all, Sam. Whatever are you thinking of? And to suggest that she should be included in one of our family social occasions! You’d be a laughing stock, and so would all of us.’
Joshua Walker spoke again. ‘I think you are overreacting, Jonathan. As your brother says, everyone has to earn a living, somehow, and there are those who are not as fortunate as we are. Bert Horrocks works in the warehouse. He’s a supervisor there, and he’s one of the best workers you could imagine. Valerie is his daughter. I’ve heard him mention her. She’s the apple of his eye, you might say. I’ve spoken with her a few times, and my impression is that she’s a grand girl, and one that’s got her head screwed on the right way, I should imagine.’ He nodded approvingly at Sam.
‘You could do a lot worse, lad,’ he said with a faint smile. ‘In fact, I doubt if you could do any better.’
‘Thank you, Father,’ said Sam quietly.
‘Well, I’ve heard everything now!’ Jonathan sprang to his feet. ‘I’m meeting Thelma, and I mustn’t keep her waiting.’ He stopped at the door, glaring at Sam. ‘Let’s hope you come to your senses, little brother, before our wedding. We don’t want any riff-raff there.’
‘You take that back! You apologize to your brother, do you hear, Jonathan?’ called out their father. But Jonathan had gone.
Beatrice also stood up. ‘I have a headache,’ she said icily, ‘if you will excuse me.’ She made a dignified exit, her head held high, but the words caught in her throat. It seemed as though she was about to burst into tears.
Joshua looked at his son, his eyes full of concern, but there was a hint of amusement there as well. ‘Well, this is a pretty kettle of fish, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘I wish I could say that your mother will come round, but it’s not going to be easy.’ Well nigh impossible, he thought to himself, but he would have to try to make her see reason.
THIRTEEN
Janice received a letter from Val in mid-September. She had been feeling a little downcast as Phil had been demobbed and was now back at home in Yorkshire. Although she had known him for only a few weeks their friendship had blossomed, and she was looking forward to seeing him again once she had settled down in her digs in Leeds and got started on her course at the university. She still had very mixed feelings about leaving home, knowing how much she would miss her parents and her younger brother. Janice had always been very much a home girl, never wanting to spread her wings as some other girls did.
She was rather concerned, too, about her mother. Lilian had been complaining about headaches, although complaining was not really the right word. Her mother had never been one to give way and tell others when she was not feeling well, she tried to keep going at all costs. It was clear now, though, that there was something amiss. She was tired and listless and headaches were something quite new to her.
‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said, as she always did. ‘I dare say I’m just tired. It’s been a busy season – not that I’m grumbling about that – and I suppose it’s taken its toll on me. Only a few more weeks, though, and we’ll be able to take a breather.’ They were almost fully booked until the end of October, when the Illuminations finished.
Janice was interested in Val’s letter. She had one or two items of news to relate. It was no surprise to hear that Val was still seeing her new friend, Sam. Val had been quite concerned when she met him that he was one of the bosses at the mill where she worked. It was Janice’s opinion that Val could hold her own with anyone, no matter how important they were in the eyes of her work colleagues. She did say, however, that she had not yet been introduced to the family, and that she was not looking forward to meeting his mother who was reputed to be something of a dragon.
The more surprising news was that Cissie was now engaged to her longtime boyfriend, Walter Clarkson. Janice remembered that Cissie had not been at all sure about that friendship and had been trying to find a way out. Then she had met that Jack … somebody or other, and had seemed to be quite smitten with him. Janice had thought he was rather a fly-by-night sort of lad, not one to be trusted. Reading between the lines Janice suspected that Cissie had heard no more from him and had gone back to the faithful Walter. She hoped her new friend was doing the right thing. She would send her a card of congratulation and wish her well.
It was at the start of the third week in September, on the Monday evening when they were clearing away after the meal that Lilian gave a cry and then collapsed on the kitchen floor. Olive and Nancy, as well as Janice, rushed to her aid. They managed to get her to her feet and sat her down on a chair. Olive found the brandy bottle and added hot water to a few teaspoons full of the liquid. It was considered a cure-all for every ailment. Nancy knelt at her side as Lilian held her head, unable to say anything but that her head was hurting.
Janice dashed to the living room to find her father. ‘Dad … come quick, it’s Mum. She’s collapsed. We must get an ambulance, right now. I think she’s really bad …’
It seemed ages but it was, in fact, not very long before the ambulance arrived. Lilian by that time was almost speechless with the severity of the pain in her head. The ambulance men lifted her on to a stretcher and carried her out to the vehicle. By that time several of the visitors had become aware of the crisis and were standing outside on the pavement.
‘I’ll go with her, love,’ said Alec to his daughter. ‘You stay here and see to things and I’ll get in touch as soon as I know what’s going on. Try not to worry our Ian, tell him that Mum’s going to be alright. Oh, Janice love, I hope to God that she will be!’ There were tears in his eyes as he got into the ambulance and Janice, equally distressed, went back into the house.
Ian had dashed out straight after his meal to play football, as he always did. Janice hoped they would have some positive news of her mother’s condition before he returned. She kept herself busy in the ki
tchen, trying not to worry, but that was not possible. She found she was praying continually, a silent plea, over and over in her mind; Please God, don’t let there be anything seriously wrong with Mum. Olive and Nancy refused to go home, keeping themselves occupied until they heard what was happening at the hospital.
‘Whatever happens,’ said Janice, ‘I should imagine that Mum will be out of action for some time.’
‘How are we going to manage?’ said Olive. ‘We’re fully booked this week, and we’re pretty nearly full for the rest of the season. Your mother’s the mainstay of this place. She’s in charge of the meals, she does all the cooking, with only a little help. The rest of us can’t hold a candle to her.’
Janice knew that this was true, but she was thinking about what her mother would want them to do. At the very back of her mind was a dreadful thought that she was trying hard to quell … Supposing Mum did not recover? She pushed it away. She must think positively despite the sick feeling of dread inside her.
‘Mum would want us to carry on the best way we can,’ she said. ‘Freda comes in every day to help prepare the evening meal, and I’m sure she’d agree to stay longer under the circumstances. She’s not a bad cook herself, you know. Mum has said that she’s a great help. And … I’ve been picking up a few hints here and there myself. I’ve been watching Mum and trying to learn how she does things. She’s always telling me to go off and enjoy myself while I can. But I really wanted to help, and in the end she let me.’
‘But you’re off to your college soon, aren’t you?’ said Nancy. ‘Next week, isn’t it?’
‘It’s supposed to be,’ said Janice, ‘but I’m not going.’ The decision had come to her in a flash. Her place was here to hold the fort for as long as her mother was unable to do so, and after that, who could tell what might happen?
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