A Mother’s Sacrifice. Kitty Neale
were very popular with the locals and though everyone knew that Mrs Merton must have managed to acquire extra sugar on the black market, nobody minded as she sold her wares at a fair price and they were a rare treat for those who could spare the tuppence.
Glenda thanked Mrs Merton, tucked her toffee apple away in her handbag and first visited her best friend. She knocked on Helen’s door, smiling as she desperately tried to force Frank from her mind.
Helen seemed genuinely pleased and surprised to find Glenda standing on her doorstep.
‘Glenda!’ she exclaimed. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you today. Come in out of the cold, love.’
‘Thanks, Helen. I was just taking Johnnie for a stroll – a bit of fresh air is good for him. Not that the air round here is all that fresh. That blinking stench from Garton’s glucose factory and the fumes from the brewery … I swear it’s getting worse!’
‘I know, and so many people complain about it,’ said Helen as she helped Glenda in through the door with the pram. ‘I’m sure there’s sticky stuff on my windows from that factory. Come through to the kitchen, Dad is in his bed in the front room and Mum is upstairs having a nap.’
Glenda sat at the table in the cramped kitchen and stretched her neck to look out of the back door at the apple tree Helen had planted during the war, which sadly still wasn’t producing any fruit.
‘Sorry about the state of the tea,’ said Helen, ‘these leaves must have been brewed four times over and we haven’t got any sugar. This rationing is getting really tiresome now. I queued for over two hours yesterday afternoon just for a loaf of bread. It wouldn’t be so bad, but you know it’s hard for me to leave Mum and Dad by themselves.’
‘You should have said. I could have got you a loaf when I got mine,’ Glenda offered. ‘Talking of parents, I want to pop round to see mine, but does my face look all right?’
‘There’s still a faint bruise, but a bit more foundation and powder should cover it up. I’m afraid there’s not much else we can do about your wonky nose or gappy grin,’ Helen said lightheartedly, continuing to look at her. She paused. ‘There’s something else. You look different, Glenda. I can’t put my finger on it but there’s definitely something. You ain’t pregnant again, are you?’
‘No, don’t be daft,’ Glenda said, laughing. She could feel her cheeks begin to flush as she thought of Frank, and her friend quizzed her further.
‘So what is it, Glenda Jenkins? And don’t you go saying nothing ’cos I know there’s something! You can’t keep secrets from me, you know. I’ve been your best mate all your life and I know when you’re up to something. Look at you, smiling like the cat that’s got the cream.’
‘Oh, Helen,’ Glenda gushed, ‘you know me too well. You’re right, I can’t keep things from you, but if I tell you, you have to promise to keep it a secret.’
‘Of course I will, Glenda, you know that!’
‘Well,’ Glenda paused, ‘it’s this bloke I met called Frank …’
Ted was pleasantly surprised to find his only daughter standing in the front-room doorway, gently rocking his first grandson on her hip.
‘Glenda,’ he fussed, rushing over to take Johnnie from her arms, ‘leave the pram there, it’ll be fine. How lovely to see you, my gal. It’s been weeks. Come in, come in and sit yourself down. Look, Elsie, look who’s come to visit. It’s our Glenda and don’t she look a sight for sore eyes!’
Elsie raised a bit of a smile, but soon closed her eyes again as she drifted off to sleep on the small couch in the corner of the room.
‘Your mother’s a bit tired, love. It’s this weather. It’s turned cold again and it keeps her up at night when the wind blows down the chimney.’
‘The sun’s come out now and I’ve got her a little pressie from old Mrs Merton. Here you are.’ Glenda handed the toffee apple to Ted.
Such a thoughtful girl, he thought, but as a ray of sun shone through the window and illuminated her face, Ted caught sight of Glenda’s bruised eye. He could tell she’d tried to cover it with make-up and, as he studied her more closely, he noticed her nose looked misshapen too. He inwardly seethed, instantly knowing that her thug of a husband had been bashing her again. He wanted to question her about it but knew from experience that his daughter would always lie to cover for Harry, and he hated it when she did that. He took a deep breath and tried to carry on as normal.
‘And how have you both been? We ain’t seen you in a while.’
‘Yes, I know, Dad, and I’m sorry. It’s just that Johnnie’s been teething and I’ve been busy. You know how it is.’
Oh, yes, thought Ted, he knew exactly how it was. More like she’s been too injured and ashamed to show us her face. Though he expected to get the same old fairy story, Ted found he couldn’t help but have it out with her.
‘Look, love,’ he began, ‘we’ve been through this before and I don’t expect you’ll tell me anything different from last time, but if that old man of yours has been hitting you again, you don’t have to stay with him. You’ll always have a roof over your head here, and Johnnie too.’
Ted held his breath and stared intently at his beloved daughter. She had come late to them, when Elsie had been over forty. He himself was now nearly sixty-two years old, with gnarled hands from arthritis, but if he had been a younger and fitter man he would have marched straight round to Harry Jenkins and punched him on the nose.
‘I know you’ll always take me in, Dad, and thanks. I ain’t gonna lie to you again, so yes, Harry has been hitting me, pretty badly this time. But how can I leave him? He knows this is the first place I’d run to and he’d soon come round here to kick up a stink. He’d drag me back home and I’d suffer for daring to walk out on him. Not only that, I couldn’t divorce him. Oh, Dad, just think of it, the shame. Women round these parts don’t leave their husbands. It’s unheard of!’
Ted’s heart nearly crumbled as he saw the anguish in Glenda’s eyes. For her to finally admit that Harry had been hitting her … he must have really hurt her badly this time.
‘Sod what other people think. I couldn’t give a damn about all the gossips. If you want a divorce, my gal, then you bloody well get one! You’ve always been too good for the likes of that Jenkins lot. Rough they are, the whole lot of ’em. And I’ll tell you something else – there wouldn’t be a single person in these streets who would blame you for leaving that man. He’s got no right to hit you! Gawd rest his soul, if your brother was still here, I’d send him round there right now. See how brave that Harry is if a real man stood in front of him.’
Ted could feel the pain again like a stab to the heart when he thought of his son Philip, who had been killed in action during the D-Day landings. He’d been eight years older than Glenda and twice as big a man as that Harry Jenkins. He would have gone mad at the knowledge of anyone beating up his little sister and would have sorted the bully out.
‘I know what you’re saying, Dad, but that still doesn’t help if Harry comes round here to get me. What about Mum? You know how easily she gets upset. All the commotion would be too much for her.’
Ted noticed the tender look in Glenda’s eyes as she glanced over at her mother who was lying peacefully on the sofa, quietly snoring with her mouth slightly agape. He was thankful that Elsie seemed oblivious to the conversation between him and Glenda. It would have broken the woman’s heart had she known that their daughter was being beaten by Harry.
‘I’ll worry about your mother. You just go home now, get whatever stuff you need for you and the boy, then get yourself back round here sharpish. I’ll have your room ready and we’ll deal with whatever happens. If push comes to shove, I’ll call the Old Bill. Not only that, my mate Mick has a boy at Battersea Park station and I can have a word with him.’
‘Dad, you know the police aren’t interested