Christmas Past (29 page)

‘We?’

‘Yes.’ Jacqueline looked her old self for the first time in months. ‘You’re coming with me.’

‘I can’t possibly. I haven’t been invited.’

‘Yes you have. I’m inviting you now.’

Avril didn’t know what to say. ‘Well, I don’t know. You’ll have to ask your parents.’

‘No I won’t. You’ll be welcome any time – everyone’s made welcome by my family. You’re coming with me, so we’ll hear no more about it.’

She went to the kitchen cabinet and brought out the pot containing their joint housekeeping money, and emptied it on the table. Together they counted out a couple of pound notes, then the ten
shilling ones. ‘Lucky we’ve been saving hard for Christmas extras,’ she said. ‘We have enough for the tickets and a bit besides.’

‘Then we’d better buy your parents something nice,’ Avril said.

Jacqueline laughed for the first time in ages. ‘The sight of us walking into the shop will be the only present my parents need.’

Avril began to feel excited. ‘Well, if you’re sure?’

‘I’m sure, and don’t think you’ll be getting away scot-free. When my mother discovers you’re going in for interior design she’ll be roping you in to do the
window displays, just you wait and see.’ Now Jacqueline had got all the resentment out of her system she couldn’t wait to see her mother again.

With only five days to Christmas, Sheffield was swarming with shoppers, and by the time Jacqueline and Avril had made their way from the station into Bridge Street, laden down
with luggage, they were already in high spirits and looking forward to a real family Christmas.

Normally Jacqueline would have crossed Snig Hill to scrutinise the window displays at Winstons for the latest designs in blouses, looking for ideas to pass on to her mother, but today, weighed
down with bags and presents, she and her friend boarded the first available bus for Millington.

They had worked hard during the past few days, Jacqueline finishing a series of watercolours and her friend framing them. There was a picture of Moorland House for Grandma and Grandad Roberts,
and a moorland scene complete with Tittle Harry for her parents. Another one, a portrait of Grandad Holmes, turned out to be Jacqueline’s favourite and was intended for Grandma Holmes. She
had one of Pepper grazing in the field along the lane for Alan. Jacqueline experienced the familiar pang of sadness as she thought of the day Doug Downing had discovered the old horse dead in the
stable. He and Jacqueline had comforted each other, huddled together as Doug had broken the news. But since she had started attending the open circle evenings at the Spiritual Church she no longer
visualized the old carcass being burned, but instead imagined Pepper galloping contentedly in a green and pleasant place.

She had found it easy to paint the pictures from memory, surprised at the amount of detail she could remember, and sometimes she fancied an unseen force was planting the images in her
mind’s eye. Now she was concentrating on completing the journey without breaking the frames. Avril had insisted on stopping outside the sheaf market to buy a bunch of chrysanthemums for
Jacqueline’s mother, and a bag of roasted chestnuts which they were now munching as they jolted on the upper deck of the bus. Bare tree branches brushed against the windows, and Jacqueline
wanted to cry out with pleasure as they travelled the familiar countryside.

‘I think I’m going to like Sheffield,’ Avril decided.

Jacqueline laughed. ‘You haven’t seen much of it yet.’

‘No, but after London I can’t believe the difference in the air.’

‘Oh, I’ll grant you that. I’ll guarantee you’ll sleep well after a few days in the pure Yorkshire air.’ She frowned. ‘Not that it’s all that pure where
we live now, but just wait till you see Longfield.’

‘If it’s half as beautiful as your paintings I can’t wait.’

‘It’s even better,’ said Jacqueline. ‘Looks like we’re here. We’d better gather our luggage together.’

Avril found her stomach churning nervously. She hoped it would be acceptable her being here. She wished her friend had warned her family of her coming, but Jacqueline had insisted on their visit
being a surprise.

A surprise it was too, for Jacqueline as well as her parents. She had expected her mother to come running at the sound of the shop bell, but instead a pretty assistant dressed in an elegant
black dress addressed the pair as they entered.

‘Can I help you, madam?’ She smiled from one to the other.

‘Shh,’ Jacqueline whispered, placing a finger to her lips. ‘Is my mother about? Oh, sorry – you don’t know me. I’m Jacqueline.’

The girl blushed. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I’m Yvonne Banwell. I’ve only been here a few months. Your mother’s in the living room doing the
tree.’

Jacqueline knew better than to dump her bags in the shop. It had been almost a mortal sin in her mother’s eyes for as much as a duster to be left in view of the customers. She trundled
through to the kitchen, her friend following uncertainly.

She tiptoed up behind her mother, placed her luggage silently down and pressed her hands over the busy woman’s eyes. Mary jumped. ‘What? Who – come on, stop messing
about.’ Her daughter let go, eager to witness her mother’s surprise. Mary was more in shock than surprised, then she and her daughter were crying and laughing in each other’s
arms.

‘This is Avril, Mother. I hope you don’t mind me bringing her, only I couldn’t leave her alone at Christmas.’

‘Mind? Of course I don’t mind. Oh, what a Christmas this is going to be. Take your things off, Avril, and make yourself at home. Oh, I can’t wait to see your father’s
face.’

‘When will he be home?’

‘He’s on two to ten, but our Alan’ll be home about half past six.’

Jacqueline sank into an easy chair, and Mary rushed to the kitchen to make tea.

‘I didn’t know you had an assistant in the shop, Mother.’

‘Oh, didn’t I mention it? I always forget half the things I mean to say when I write.’

‘She looks efficient,’ Jacqueline said. ‘And pretty.’

Avril smiled. ‘I think that’s an understatement. I’d say she was beautiful.’

Mary came back with the tea tray. ‘You’re right. I held a fashion show last week in aid of a children’s hospital appeal, and Yvonne was the main model. I can’t believe
the orders that came pouring in. Not only that, but the customers love her. Besides, I can concentrate now on the sewing part knowing the shop is in good hands. She’s paying her own wages
over and over again.’

‘What did Dad say?’

‘Well, actually it was his suggestion. He threatened he would leave if I didn’t cut my working hours. I ignored him for too long, I’m afraid, not realising I was really
neglecting him. Luckily I took his threat seriously in the end.’

Jacqueline looked worried. ‘I’m glad you did. I wouldn’t have liked a divorce on my hands.’

Mary giggled. ‘You know your father better than that. Besides, I think he rather fancies Yvonne. He says she makes him feel twenty again.’

‘Where did you find her?’ Jacqueline enquired.

‘She’s been a customer since she was in frilly dresses and ankle socks. I knew she was leaving school next year so she was the obvious choice. At present she’s coming in after
school, on Saturdays, and full time in the holidays, like now.’ Mary didn’t add that being a member of the Holmes family the girl was worthy of a little consideration. She wasn’t
supposed to know. The truth had only been revealed when she tried dresses on the little girl. The tiny birthmark exactly between the shoulder blades was identical to the one on both Jacqueline and
Una.

Yvonne’s parentage had been confirmed to Mary by the look on Harry’s face when he first saw his daughter behind the counter, but nothing had been said and Mary intended to keep the
knowledge to herself, realising she had landed herself with a bargain in Yvonne. Besides, the girl obviously idolised Mr and Mrs Banwell, and they her.

The shop was closed and the bags unpacked by the time Alan arrived home in the old banger. They heard him long before he arrived outside the shop, and before coming in he
lifted up the bonnet and shone a torch inside to begin adjusting something or other.

‘Oh, no,’ Mary moaned. ‘Don’t tell me he’s brought home another heap of someone else’s rubbish. I don’t know what people will think. That’s the
third time this week he’s brought his work home to clutter up the road.’

‘Well, at least he hasn’t changed much. I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t tinkering with some motor or another.’ Jacqueline was growing impatient and
eventually she knocked on the shop window. Alan looked up and his grease-smeared face blossomed into a huge grin. Dropping the spanner he almost ran into the shop, and gathered his sister against
his greasy overalls.

‘How long have you been home?’

‘Hours and hours. Well, it seems like it waiting for you to arrive, and then as usual someone’s old engine is given priority.’ They laughed happily together as they entered the
kitchen.

Avril stood up as Jacqueline introduced her brother to her. She had seen photographs and heard a lot about Alan, but nothing had prepared her for the sight of the tall handsome man with the fair
hair and the laughing eyes. She gulped and managed a hello.

‘Nice to see you, Avril.’ He smiled. ‘Looks like being an exciting Christmas after all, and I must say you’ve achieved a miracle already: you’ve drawn my
mother’s attention from that damned sewing machine.’

Mary laughed. ‘Wrong,’ she said. ‘I’d already decided to call it a day. All the orders are completed, and if we haven’t enough stock made up they’ll just have
to wait until the new year.’ She went to the kitchen to lay the table, calling out, ‘I couldn’t decide whether to close the shop for two or three days, but our Jacqueline’s
arrival helped me make up my mind. I’m giving Yvonne a whole week off – with pay, of course. I’ll see how things go and if there doesn’t look to be much doing I’ll
take a week off myself too.’

Alan sank into a chair in a mock faint. ‘Oh, God, we’ll be bankrupt,’ he groaned.

Laughing, Jacqueline warned, ‘You’ll not only be bankrupt, you’ll be thrown out if she sees you on the furniture in those overalls.’

Alan jumped up. ‘Oh, I forgot. I’d better go and shower.’

‘Shower?’ Jacqueline shrieked. ‘Are we turning all posh?’

‘My Christmas present to Mum and Dad, all fitted and working,’ Alan boasted.

Mary popped her head round the door. ‘Aye, and we’ll all know whose fault it is when one of us ends up scalded,’ she warned.

Alan laughed and disappeared upstairs. Avril looked at Jacqueline and smiled wistfully, saying softly, ‘Oh, Jacqueline, you don’t know how lucky you are, having such a caring
family.’

‘Well, I don’t know about that. I reckon they’re all a bit dotty sometimes, and you haven’t met half of them yet. Wait until Christmas Day when we all get together
– you’ll think you’re in a madhouse.’

Avril didn’t answer. She could already see the transformation in Jacqueline, and she reckoned she could stop worrying about her friend, for the next several days at least.

‘Come on, dinner’s ready,’ Mary called. ‘I’d have done something special if I’d known you were coming.’

‘Well this looks special enough to me,’ Avril said, beginning to tuck in to the large plate of meat and potato pie and mushy peas. ‘You were right, Jacqueline – I am
going to like it here. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for having me, Mrs Holmes.’

‘No thanks necessary, love,’ Mary said, glancing at her daughter. Something had happened: she didn’t know what and did not intend to pry, but was grateful that Jacqueline had
had a friend like Avril to see her through the trauma. Oh well, she hoped that whatever it was it was over, and for the next few days she intended to concentrate on feeding up the pair of scrawny
figures. ‘Come on, eat up,’ she said. ‘There’s baked apples and custard to follow.’

Initially Jack had invited Gladys and Rowland to spend the whole of Christmas with them, but on hearing of the arrival of his daughter Gladys had changed their plans slightly,
knowing from her letters how much Jacqueline missed Moorland House. So it was arranged that the whole family would spend Christmas Day at Millington and men, weather permitting, visit Moorland
House on Boxing Day. Gladys hoped to persuade Jacqueline to stay overnight and show her friend the beauties of Longfield the next day.

Jack had been shocked at his daughter’s appearance. ‘I don’t believe they are feeding themselves properly,’ he said. ‘Either that, or she’s unhappy at
college. I’ll not have her staying down there if she’s miserable.’

‘She’s enjoying college,’ Mary assured him.

‘Mary, can’t you see she looks drawn – older, somehow? Surely being her mother you can see the change in her.’

‘I can see,’ Mary insisted. ‘But I don’t think it’s anything to do with college, or the way they eat.’ She paused. ‘I think the girl’s probably
had love troubles.’ She didn’t add that she was seeing herself all over again after Tom Downing’s death.

‘Well, I only hope nobody did the dirty on her. If anybody harms my lass I’ll swing for ’em, I’m telling you, Mary.’

‘Jack, she’s not a little girl any more. She’s twenty tomorrow and we can’t protect her from life. She needs to learn from her own mistakes like anyone else.’

‘Aye well, we’ll see. If she’s miserable down there she’s not going back, I’m telling you.’

‘Yes, and I’m telling you, a week at home and she’ll be back to her old self, just you see.’

As it happened it didn’t take a week to transform Jacqueline. It happened quite unexpectedly on her birthday.

It was during the afternoon that the shop bell rang and Yvonne came through to the back. ‘There’s someone asking for you, Jacqueline. A man.’

‘A man? Well, he’d better come in.’ Jacqueline looked at Avril in confusion.

Douglas Downing looked ill at ease. It was the first time Jacqueline had seen him dressed up and he had obviously taken pains with his appearance.

‘Doug! Come in. It’s been ages – how are you?’ She didn’t wait for Doug’s reply. ‘This is my friend Avril, she’s staying over
Christmas.’