been a time when Jack had looked at her like that, with adoration. Nowadays though, she was lucky if he looked at her at all. She turned to gaze at her husband now, seeing that although he was only in his mid-forties, he looked more like he was fifty. Jack was balding, growing tubby around the middle, but there were still remnants of the good-looking young man she’d fallen in love with. They had let themselves go, Mabel decided, both looking older than their years in comparison to Daphne and Frank Cole.
Mabel scowled. At forty-six, Daphne was two years older than her, yet she looked years younger. Of course she wore fashionable clothes and make-up, so that helped, yet the stuff she plastered on her face was light in comparison to Phyllis’s cousin, Rose. There was still gossip going round that Rose was seeing a married man, but as yet nobody had put a name to him. Mabel felt sorry for the man’s wife, and she glanced at Jack again, thinking that at least she didn’t have to worry about her husband straying.
Tommy was holding Amy’s hand, happy to be with her as they headed for Battersea Park. The funfair had opened again when Easter fell at the beginning of the month and once he’d paid for them to get in, he was planning to take Amy for a ride on the big dipper.
After chatting for a while they walked in companionable silence, Tommy’s thoughts drifting to his father. He’d been acting strangely, sitting back and giving him more responsibility at work. They had taken it in turns to go out on repairs or replacements, but it had never made sense to Tommy that they didn’t have two vehicles. It would have doubled the amount of work they could take on. He’d suggested it many times, along with other ways they could expand, but his father had always dismissed his ideas.
Tommy hadn’t understood why until just recently, when he’d at last been allowed to look at the books. Once again he felt a surge of pity for his father, and remained amazed that he’d hidden the truth for so long. The books were a mess, his father’s handwriting almost illegible, and there were numerous mistakes in accounting. His father was an intelligent man, and a craftsman when he handled glass, but it was obvious the paperwork involved in running a firm was beyond his capabilities. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to expand. More work, perhaps taking on a council contract, meant sending written quotes, proper invoicing and accounting.
‘I love the funfair,’ Amy said excitedly as they walked through the park gates.
‘Me too,’ Thomas agreed. He’d have a word with his dad; suggest taking on the paperwork permanently. By doing that they could expand the business and with it would come a rise in pay. If Amy agreed to marry him that meant it wouldn’t have to be a long engagement before they could afford to get married.
It was a wonderful thought, but as they approached the funfair, Tommy was unaware that his father had other plans – ones that would have a profound effect on his future.
Celia woke up on Monday morning to find the bed empty beside her. She threw on her dressing gown, expecting to find George downstairs, but instead saw two letters propped on the mantelshelf.
Puzzled, she picked up the one with her name on it, and after managing to decipher the dreadful handwriting she stood frozen in shock; stunned. George had gone! He’d left her for another woman!
At last, after reading the contents again, Celia came to life and, grabbing the other letter, she hurried back upstairs and into her son’s room. ‘Thomas! Thomas! Wake up!’
When he didn’t respond, she shook him. ‘Thomas! Come on, wake up!’
His eyes slowly opened, he blinked, and as they cleared she cried, ‘Thomas, your father has left me.’
‘Wh … what?’
‘Your father has gone! Here, he left you this letter.’
Thomas shook his head as though to clear it and then sat up, taking the letter from her hand. He ripped it open, his reaction when he managed to read it the same as his mother’s at first. ‘I can’t believe this,’ he finally murmured, after the initial shock had sunk in. ‘He … he’s handed over the business to me.’
‘To you! What about me? What about your brother?’
‘There’s no mention of you, and Jeremy isn’t here to run the place.’
‘Give that letter to me,’ Celia demanded.
Thomas passed it to her and said, ‘Mum, let me get dressed then I’ll come downstairs and we can sort this out.’
‘Yes, yes, all right,’ she agreed.
It wasn’t long before Thomas walked into the living room, but by that time Celia was sitting with his letter clutched in her hand. It was bad enough that George had gone off with another woman, but he had also left her financial future in the hands of their son. ‘Did you know about this?’ she snapped, waving the letter.
‘Of course not.’
‘Surely you noticed something, had some inkling.’
‘Not really, though Dad’s been giving me more responsibility at work, sorting the books and things. I didn’t realise that he had a problem until then. Did you know?’
‘Yes, of course, but he would never accept my help,’ Celia said as her stomach began to churn. George had left her! Why hadn’t she seen the signs? They had been there, she now realised, thinking about how George had been going out more lately, but she had never suspected that he was seeing another woman. Her emotions were on a rollercoaster; first there had been shock, then anger, but now the tears came – tears she couldn’t stem, and her body shook with emotion. Thomas tried to comfort her, but she pushed away from him.
‘Mum,’ he said, ‘you can’t go on like this. I’m going next door to get Libby.’
‘No! No, don’t do that,’ Celia cried, unable to bear the shame of it, the gossip that would fly when it became known that George had left her. With a supreme effort she fought to calm down, able to say at last, ‘I’m all right now.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, yes, I’ll make us both a cup of tea and then we’ll have to work out what we’re going to do,’ she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she went through to the kitchen. Anger and bitterness rose again to replace her tears. She had given George the best years of her life, and two sons, but he had left her for another woman. Well, whoever she was, she was welcome to him, Celia decided, determined not to let this beat her. But her bravado didn’t sustain her for long and she had to choke back a sob.
Rose looked around her small, dank flat for the last time, happy to leave it. She had fallen on her feet at last, even if she knew some would be scandalised when it came out –including her cousin Phyllis.
When there was a ring on her doorbell, Rose went to see who it was, hiding her impatience when she saw it was the woman who lived upstairs. Lydia was nice enough, but always looking to borrow something, and it soon became obvious she was at it again.
‘Rose, I’m sorry to ask, but my youngest won’t eat his porridge without sugar. Can you spare a couple of spoonfuls?’
Rose had left not only sugar, but a few other bits and pieces in her larder and said impulsively, ‘Yes, of course I can. Come in, Lydia.’
‘I can’t stop. I’ve got to get the kids off to school,’ she said while following Rose to the kitchen.
‘Here,’ Rose said, as she began to place the bag of sugar, along with a tin of corned beef, spam, and other bits and pieces into Lydia’s arms.
‘What are you doing? I only wanted a bit of sugar.’
‘I know, but I’m leaving so you might as well have what’s left in my cupboard.’
‘Leaving? Where are you going?’
‘This