Christmas Past (36 page)

‘Ours.’ Mary got up from the table and went to the bureau in the corner. She unlocked the bottom cupboard and took out a green hard-backed book. She brought it to the table and
opened it at the last page. Jack started to read and the figures suddenly began to make sense. Income, expenditure, the columns neatly laid out. He blinked and wondered if the amounts were
registering correctly. He looked up at Mary, who was waiting expectantly for his reaction.

‘Well?’ she asked. ‘What do you think? Will we have enough for a decent deposit or not?’

‘More than enough, but, as I said, it’s all yours. I’m having none of it.’

‘Jack Holmes, if you say that one more time I’ll crown you with this accounts book and knock some sense into that head of yours. Who do you think has kept me and the kids all these
years? You have, working down that goddamned pit, and then in a job which almost put you six feet under, and now the first time you’ve the chance to do something you would enjoy you’re
talking about turning it down. Well, I won’t stand by and let you do it. Of course, if you don’t think you’re up to the challenge that’s a different matter
entirely.’

‘Of course I’m up to it,’ he retaliated. ‘Well, I think I am. I won’t know until I try.’

Mary grinned. ‘So what do you say? Shall we give it a go?’

Jack was still wary, but Mary knew she was winning. ‘Well, it all depends on what he’s asking, and we’d have to think about who to set on in the shop.’

‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, but I already have someone in mind. Of course, you’re the manager. It would be up to you.’

‘Who?’

‘How about Sally? I know Harry’s new job isn’t bringing in as much as the pit, and she’s on the list for a job back in the Co-op.’

Jack grinned. ‘And she’d be experienced, too. In fact I’ll bet she’d be able to teach me a thing or two about shop work. Oh, Mary, do you think we should take the plunge?
I’d pay you back every penny once we were established.’

Mary lifted up the green book, high above Jack’s head. ‘I warned you,’ she said, then they burst into laughter as he took his wife in his arms. ‘Our Alan’s working
over,’ she said, and led Jack from the room and up the stairs. ‘That means we’ve a full hour in which to celebrate.’

By the time they reached the bed, they were half undressed and the celebrations were about to begin.

A white swan sidled out of the water, pausing a couple of feet in front of Gladys. He stretched his neck gracefully and gazed into her eyes. She wanted to take his picture, but
dare not move in case he became aggressive.

‘Honk,’ he murmured and arced his wings, posing beautifully.

She’d always thought swans were mute creatures, but still, in a magical place like Bled, she supposed anything was possible. She remained motionless, swallowing nervously.

He arced his wings again so that she could no longer resist reaching out, opening the brown leather case and carefully composing the picture in her viewfinder.

The camera clicked, causing the swan to spread his wings and fly majestically over the edge and into the lake. Gladys slid down the grassy bank and dangled her toes in the water. A fat orange
snail sailed by on a broken lily-pad boat, and a fragile butterfly settled beside her amongst daisies and clover. She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with pure alpine air, and looked out across
the lake. ‘I got a picture of the swan, Rowland,’ she called, but Rowland was snoring gently beneath his old panama hat.

On the island the white church nestled amongst lush greenery, mystical in a haze of heat. Sometimes its tall spire glistened in the sun; now it was hidden by a descended cloud. Behind it the
magnificent Mount Triglav changed colour continuously, from lilac to greyish gold and back again.

She gathered her belongings: camera, sun cream, towel, insect repellent and the romantic novel of the year she had bought at the airport. Romance, that’s what a place like this was made
for, and romance she had got. Lovemaking didn’t happen very often nowadays – they could hardly expect it at their age – but Bled seemed to be acting like an aphrodisiac, for
Rowland had wakened each morning with the desire to make love, not the hot torrid act of passion they had known in younger days, but a warm, tender, more fulfilling experience.

The holiday had indeed been like a second honeymoon. They had walked through green meadows, abloom with wild primroses, scarlet poppies and buttercups. Other unfamiliar flowers and herbs she had
identified with the help of a handbook. They had waved to smiling farmers’ wives as they gathered plump peas and beans, and fruit from orchards. They had watched brown swarthy men
replenishing wood stocks in readiness for the harsh winter, which would freeze the lake and prepare the ski slopes for winter visitors.

Another day they had followed the road to the wooded valley and the gushing river of Vingtar Gorge, where the towering rocks shut out the sunlight, and icy droplets fell to the shimmering water
below.

They had taken a boat to the island in the centre of the lake where a concert in the chapel had delighted Rowland, the local choir being just as enthusiastic as his own back home.

They had ridden in a horse-drawn dray to the centuries-old castle and watched the celebration of a local wedding. Now it was almost time to leave, and it was more than Gladys could bear to leave
this magical place.

She clambered back up the bank and shook Rowland gently. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘it’s time we were changing for dinner.’

Rowland grunted and roused himself from the seat. ‘I must have dozed off,’ he said, unaware that he had slept solidly for at least an hour.

Gladys smiled, gratified by the sight of her husband’s suntanned arms and face. ‘You look so much better, dear,’ she said. ‘I hope you feel as well as you
look.’

‘Haven’t I proved it?’ he asked with a proud grin. Gladys chuckled.

‘We must go on holiday more often,’ she said.

They set off in the direction of the hotel, past the flower beds and fountains, wondering what delicacies would be on the menu this evening.

‘Oh well, I expect we shall have to begin packing after dinner.’ Gladys sighed.

‘I suppose so.’ Rowland sounded miserable at the prospect. ‘What time do we leave for Ljubljana?’

‘Straight after breakfast.’

‘So we won’t really have time to do much in the morning.’

‘Well, we could take a last walk round the village if we rise early.’

‘I think I prefer to visit the church again, just for five minutes. I think it is the most peaceful place I have ever had the good fortune to visit.’

‘Oh, I agree,’ Gladys said. ‘And so beautiful.’ She turned and looked back along the lakeside, to where the white church nestled at the foot of the castle. Reluctantly
she tore her eyes away, and they walked back to the hotel hand in hand like a couple of teenagers.

‘Jacqueline certainly had the right idea, persuading us to take a holiday,’ Gladys said. ‘But then, she always was one for coming up with bright ideas.’

‘Ah yes,’ Rowland agreed, ‘except that this time it was my bright idea, Jacqueline just supplied the brochures.’

Gladys looked confused. ‘You mean it was you who planned it all the time?’

‘Well,’ Rowland’s eyes gleamed, ‘you never did take much notice of anything I suggested, so I called on the young ones for assistance.’

‘You old schemer.’ Gladys began to laugh, and then paused to plant a kiss on her husband’s cheek. ‘But a lovely old schemer all the same. Thank you, dear, for a perfect
holiday, and for being a perfect husband.’

They left the warmth of the afternoon for the cool of the hotel, the wide staircase highlighted by chandeliers glistening in the sun from the tall windows.

‘I shall never forget this place as long as I live,’ Gladys whispered.

They entered the lift chuckling like a pair of mischievous children, causing the uniformed lift attendant to wonder if they were in their second childhood. He understood quite a bit of English
and joined in their merriment, hoping they would come back to Bled. He liked the English, especially this lady and gentleman who were always so courteous and generous. Rowland gave the attendant a
handful of dinars and doffed his hat, and then they made their way to their room where the balcony overlooked the lake and the island.

‘Oh, well, I suppose we’d better change for dinner, our last one. Oh, I am going to miss this view, and the dancing, I’ve so enjoyed the dancing.’

‘And I shall miss the Riesling,’ Rowland moaned. ‘And the fishing.’

‘Even so,’ Gladys gave a mischievous grin, ‘I still think Moorland House is the most beautiful place on earth.’

Great Yarmouth was a far cry from Bled. Nevertheless, a week later a charabanc party left Millington for a weekend at the resort with no less enthusiasm. The party mostly
consisted of the Holmeses and the Bacons, with any vacancies filled by friends and neighbours, all eager to be in the audience for Una Bacon’s theatrical performance.

Una was appearing in a musical Monday to Friday in Scarborough, but had been singled out by her agent for a special Saturday night tour of all the major resorts, as a member of the backing trio
to the top vocalist Billy Flame.

The tour was a sell-out and Yarmouth was the only place Una had managed to secure advance bookings for a whole coachload. The success of the tour had been assured from the beginning with a host
of famous celebrities appearing on the bill. Even Jack was enthusiastic about the trip in order to see his favourite country and western group. Mary had left Yvonne in charge of the shop, and Madge
had volunteered to look after the house, enabling her dearest friend to take a well-earned weekend break.

Jacqueline was thrilled at the prospect of seeing her cousin for the first time in ages, but disappointed that Doug couldn’t possibly manage to get away. The pair were particularly
disappointed as this was the last weekend before the girls were due to return to college, which meant they would have to part again after only a few more days. Avril consoled her friend by pointing
out that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but was relieved that Alan had decided to take a weekend off so he could join the party.

Bill had stocked up the bus with crates of beer, and soft drinks for the women and children, and the atmosphere was one of jollity from the moment they left Millington. Grandma Holmes was in her
glory surrounded by her family, and was looking forward to seeing her oldest grandchild appearing on stage. Harry brought her a bottle of brown ale and she was soon leading the party in a good
old-fashioned sing-song. The youngsters in the back seat, including Anthony and Barry, giggled uncontrollably as the men sang ‘Roll Me Over In The Clover’ and other such bawdy songs, and
the journey was an altogether enjoyable one for all concerned.

The hotel in Apsley Road was taken over completely by the guests from Millington, and immediately the luggage was unpacked everyone made for the beach. Una was waiting to greet them, having
escaped from rehearsals earlier than usual. Bronzed by the sun, her long slim legs shown off to perfection by a pair of skimpy shorts, she was a vision of loveliness.

Grandma Holmes was a little shocked by the sight of all the exposed flesh and wondered if Una would ever settle down and marry. She worried about her oldest granddaughter, not trusting
show-business people at all, what with all the scandals she kept reading about in the Sunday newspapers, but nevertheless she couldn’t help feeling proud of her. Especially when Una said,
‘I hope you don’t mind, Gran, but I’ve decided to use your name for the stage.’

‘My name? Nay, lass, whatever sort of name is Lizzie Holmes? It might be all right back in Millington, but never on the stage.’

Una smiled. ‘No, Gran, I mean your maiden name. I’ve often thought how nice it sounded when Mum talked about her Grandma Gayle, so I thought I’d borrow it. Oh, I’ll still
be Una Bacon really, but Mr Power – that’s my agent – doesn’t think it would look too good on the billboards.’

Bill laughed. ‘I think he’s right, love. You’d be bound to get some smart Alec adding
eggs and tomatoes
to the posters.’

‘So you don’t mind then, Dad?’ Una looked relieved. She had worried her father might be disappointed.

‘Mind? Now why should I mind? You’ll always be my lovely daughter, whatever you decide to call yourself. Besides, it sounds right somehow. Una Gayle. Aye, I quite like it.’

That settled, Grandma Holmes made her way towards the sea. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘My poor feet could do with a bit of a paddle.’ And off they went, splashing and laughing
amongst the waves.

At last it was time for the party to make their way to the theatre, full of fish and chips, or pie and peas from the market, and armed with even more goodies in the form of popcorn and
chocolates. Everyone had changed into their very best suits and dresses, making certain Una had no reason to be ashamed of her family and friends.

Marjory could hardly contain herself as the orchestra began to tune up and the lights were dimmed, and she clung nervously to her husband’s hand as the curtain was raised. When the dancers
began their high-kicking routine she could hear whispers of ‘Where’s our Una?’ and ‘I can see their knickers’ from Barry and Anthony, and she would have loved to have
shouted for all the theatre to hear that her daughter would not be on until the main act.

Instead she settled down to enjoy the variety of talent leading up to the interval. Then it was time for the compere to make the announcement. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I know
you are all waiting for Billy Flame and the Fireflies ... well, I am sorry to disappoint you, but the fire brigade’s put them out.’

The mass of teenagers, unsure if the comedian was joking or not, began to boo, clap and scream, almost deafening the Holmes party who were taking up most of the front seats. Then the lights were
lowered and the spotlight fixed on centre stage where the group was revealed.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, Billy Flame and the Fireflies.’

The compere’s voice was drowned by screams and the sound of the musicians leading the singer into his first number, which was obviously one of the audience’s favourites.