Celia Frost called me a tart, well he’d go potty if I owned up that she called you a tart too. Not only that, she told me to keep you away from her son as she doesn’t want him tainted by the likes of you.’
Amy was dumbfounded and once again she found herself gawking at her mother. ‘I … I’m supposed to be seeing Tommy tonight.’
‘If his mother’s got anything to do with it, you won’t be, and if you ask me it’s probably for the best.’
‘I can’t stand her, but I … I really like Tommy.’
Her mother sighed, ‘That may be, but as your dad and me have said before, you should think long and hard about what sort of future you’d have with him. You could end up with Celia Frost as your mother-in-law, and do you really want that? Now, dwell on what I’ve said and in the meantime take your dad’s dinner through to him. I’ll bring ours.’
Amy did think about it while she was eating. She had sensed that Celia Frost didn’t like her and had been intimidated by her haughty and superior manner, but now it was as if the worm had turned and Amy was angry. Celia Frost had called her mother a tart, had labelled her as one too, and at last Amy came to a decision. If Tommy came to take her out later she would have a few things to say to him. It tore Amy up to think it might be the end of their relationship, yet she had to speak her mind.
‘Amy, I went to see Daphne Cole and Carol today.’
‘Are they all right?’ she asked, her thoughts turning swiftly to her friend.
‘Daphne wasn’t there. She’s gone to look after a sick aunt, but I’m worried about Carol. She still looks really ill, and upset about something, though she wouldn’t tell me what the problem is. Maybe she’ll talk to you.’
‘I’ll go along to see her,’ Amy said and, anxious about Carol, she bolted down the rest of her dinner.
Frank Cole was a worried and angry man as once again he had to go out to buy a takeaway meal. He was sick of fish and chips, and this time decided on a longer walk to the pie and mash shop. He’d arrived home to find his daughter dozing on the sofa, still in her nightclothes and the housework untouched. He’d left her the money to get some food in, but she hadn’t been outside the house and at first he’d done his nut, only to backtrack when Carol had curled into a ball, sobbing.
He didn’t know what to do, how to cope with her,
and just hoped she’d pull herself together soon. Frank decided that what he needed was a stiff drink, and breaking his journey he called in at the Park Tavern. There were several men in there, all still in their work clothes and obviously having a couple of drinks before they headed home.
‘Watcha, Frank,’ the landlord said. ‘What can I get you?’
‘A pint of bitter, please.’
‘Coming up,’ he said, pulling the pump. ‘I don’t suppose you know of anyone looking for a bit of bar work do you?’
‘No, sorry.’
‘Well if you do, head them in my direction. I’ve been left in a fix since my barmaid, Rose, went off with George Frost.’
‘You’re kidding! This is the first I’ve heard about it.’
‘It’s a fact, though I only found out why Rose really left when the gossip reached me,’ he said, then moving away to serve another customer.
Frank took a long drink then wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. He had too many problems of his own to show any interest in Rose and George Frost.
Still, he thought, at least it would keep the gossips busy and with any luck they’d be too occupied to question the story that Daphne had gone to look after a fictitious aunt in Kent. It would keep them at bay for now – yet for how long?
Amy could see why her mum was worried. Carol looked awful and had obviously been crying. She was in her nightclothes, her hair lank, and sitting next to her, Amy could smell her body odour. She said that her dad had gone out to get them something to eat, and worriedly Amy said, ‘Carol, I don’t think they should have let you leave the hospital. You still look really ill.’
‘I’m all right.’
‘You don’t look well enough to come back to work, but Mrs Jones won’t be able to keep your job open unless you’ve got a sick note.’
‘I’m not coming back. I’m handing in my notice.’
Shocked and upset, Amy asked, ‘But why?’
‘My mum’s gone to … to look after a sick relative and until she comes back, I’m needed at home. There’s the housework, cooking and …’ Carol’s voice trailed off as though she didn’t have the energy to carry on.
‘I know you’ll hate being stuck at home. Is that why you’ve been crying?’
‘No … Yes … Oh, please, Amy, stop asking me
questions.’
‘I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m worried about you.’
‘Well don’t be. I’ve had food poisoning that’s all, and it’s left me a bit drained. Now, my dad will be back soon so I’d better lay the table,’ Carol said as she slowly, but pointedly rose to her feet.
Though Amy could see how pale her friend looked, Carol’s tone felt like a dismissal and she reluctantly stood up too. ‘All right, but if you need anything …’
‘I’ll let you know,’ Carol finished for her.
‘I’ll call in again to see you tomorrow.’
‘Don’t do that. There’s no need,’ Carol said, her eyes dull and her tone cold.
Amy’s stomach lurched. They had been friends for so long, shared so many confidences, but now it felt as though Carol was treating her like an unwelcome stranger. Like her mother, Amy felt that there was more to Carol’s state of mind than food poisoning and she tried again. ‘Carol, I know you’re still ill, but if there’s something else worrying you, please, let me help.’
‘I’m sick of this. I said I’m fine and I don’t need you pestering me. Go away and leave me alone.’
‘Carol, you can’t mean that!’
There was no reaction to Amy’s plea, just cold words as Carol said, ‘And shut the door behind you.’
Too choked to speak now, Amy reluctantly left. Yet no matter what Carol said, or how many times she tried to dismiss her, Amy wasn’t going to give up. Something dreadful must have happened to turn Carol into this cold stranger, and when she was ready to talk about it, Amy was going to be there for her friend.
Stan had been deep in thought and he’d hardly listened when Amy came back from seeing Carol, although she and Phyllis had yammered on about it for ages.
Now though Phyllis was at work, and Amy was upstairs getting ready to go out with Tommy. When the young man turned up Stan was determined to have his say and only five minutes later there was a knock at the door. He let Tommy in, and with Amy still upstairs, Stan said sternly, ‘Now then, Tommy, I’m not happy about your mother barging in here earlier today and insulting my wife.’
‘She did what?’ he asked, looking shocked.
‘You heard me. Your mother wanted to know where Rose is, and when my wife couldn’t tell her she called her a tart. I’m not putting up with that.’
‘Mr Miller, I’m sorry, but this is all news to me. I arrived home to find my mother in a terrible state because she had found out about my dad and … and Rose, but she didn’t say anything about coming here.’