Kitty Neale - A Family’s Heartbreak

Craig awoke to his silent world, but he felt as if a rapturous riot was occurring in his head. He’d fallen asleep with a smile on his face and now, as his eyes opened, his first thought was of Jenny and he smiled again.

Their date couldn’t have gone any better; it had been the best night of his life. Once Jenny had overcome her shyness, they’d chatted like old friends, and the more he got to know her, the more he found he liked her. They’d arranged to see each other again on Tuesday, but today was Sunday and their next date felt a lifetime away. He wished now that he’d invited her to lunch today, but he hadn’t wanted his keenness to frighten her off.

Craig almost skipped out of bed, then put the kettle on. As he stood waiting for the water to come to the boil, his mind filled with images and thoughts of Jenny. He found it sweet when she’d tap her fingers on her cheek when thinking, and tuck imaginary strands of hair behind her ear when being serious. He liked how her nose would wrinkle, like a mouse’s, when she sniffed, and he adored the dimples that showed when she smiled.

‘Get a grip of yourself, man,’ Craig said out loud as he poured hot water onto tea leaves. ‘You’re acting like a schoolboy with a crush!’ He tried to contain himself, but found he was overwhelmed with feelings for Jenny. He’d never felt like this before about anyone, and hoped she felt the same.

A short while later, Craig decided to head for his workshop. There wasn’t much else to do alone on a Sunday, other than take a walk or go to church. As he trotted downstairs, Edith’s door opened and the woman stepped out with her arms folded across her chest and a mischievous grin on her face.

‘Well then, how was your date?’ she asked.

‘Morning, Edith. Have you been standing behind your door waiting to accost me?’

‘You cheeky bugger, but yes, as it happens, I have.’

‘I’m surprised you weren’t waiting up for me to come home last night.’

‘I was, but I must have nodded off. Well?’

‘Well what?’ Craig asked, enjoying teasing the old woman.

‘Don’t make me drag it out of you,’ Edith warned and wagged her finger.

‘It was very … pleasant.’

‘Pleasant, is that it, pleasant?’

‘Actually, it was better than pleasant.’

‘The kettle’s just boiled, do you want to come in and tell me all about it?’

Yes, Craig wanted to. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jenny and would like nothing better than to talk about her too. As he followed Edith into her cosy home, he announced, ‘Do you know what, I’m absolutely smitten.’

Edith turned and smiled warmly. ‘Good. You’ve made an old woman very happy. Jenny deserves a bit of happiness and it’s about time she met a nice, decent man.’

Craig sat down and made no secret of his feelings. His cheeks ached from grinning so much, but he couldn’t help himself. ‘She’s lovely, Edith, really lovely.’

‘I know, she’s a good girl, you won’t find kinder.’

‘I won’t be looking! Honestly, Edith, call me soft if you want, but she’s bowled me over. I hope she likes me too.’

‘Tell me to mind me own business, but did you give her a kiss goodnight?’

‘Edith! You can’t ask me something like that,’ Craig answered, pretending to be shocked.

‘Don’t be bleedin’ daft. Did you or didn’t you?’

‘Yes, I did, but don’t you go giving me an ear-bashing. I swear, I was every ounce the gentleman.’

‘I’m sure you was and I’d expect nothing less, but my point is, if Jenny allowed you to give her a kiss, then I guarantee she likes you too. I know my Jen. Trust me, the feelings are mutual.’

‘Thanks, Edith, it’s nice to hear. I feel a bit stupid, and to be honest, I don’t know what’s come over me.’

‘It’s called love, Craig. Me and my husband were just the same when we first met. When you meet the one, you know it.’

Craig sat back in the armchair and sighed. He’d known immediately that Jenny was ‘the one’, but had told himself it was too soon. Of course, he wouldn’t reveal his feelings to Jenny just yet, but now that Edith confirmed it, he knew he was falling head over heels.

Henry turned over in bed, opened his eyes and blinked against the bright sunlight beaming through the window. It took him a minute or two to get his bearings but then he realised he must have fallen asleep without drawing the curtains and was still wearing all his clothes. He hardly remembered coming home last night but had recollections of lumping Jerry King. The man had been having a laugh at his expense about Lizzie with some toy boy. A bloody nose had soon shut Jerry up, but he couldn’t recall if he’d been barred from the pub or not. If he was, he wasn’t bothered – he’d spend his hard-earned cash in the Grove Tavern instead.

With his mouth feeling like the bottom of a parrot’s cage, Henry grimaced as he glanced at his bedside alarm clock. Bloody hell, it was nearly eleven. He must have been well plastered to sleep in this late. He could hear Timmy and Peter playing in the hallway downstairs. Blinkin’ kids, he thought; with his thumping head the last thing he needed was them lot mucking about. He threw his legs over the side of the bed, then sat with his head lowered. At least it was Sunday, so he didn’t have to go to work. He was a dustman. It was a stinking job, but he liked working in the outdoors and the lads on the dustcart were a good bunch of blokes. There were perks to the job too, often half-decent bits and pieces put out that they could flog, splitting the cash between them.

Henry’s stomach grumbled loudly. He had no idea when he’d last eaten. He straightened his back, stretched his arms and slowly stood up to go downstairs. Late up or not, one of the girls could cook him breakfast. There wasn’t much good he could say about his wife, but she had taught them how to cook and a big fry-up was exactly what he needed right now.

Jenny was in the kitchen, peeling potatoes in preparation for their Sunday dinner. She was still feeling elated from her date with Craig but tensed when she heard her father’s footsteps overhead. He’d be coming downstairs soon and was sure to have a hangover which meant he’d be like a bear with a sore head. She spun around and said quickly to Pamela, ‘Get the boys and take them to the back yard. Hurry.’

Pamela jumped from the kitchen table, rushed into the hallway and soon returned with Peter holding one hand and Timmy the other. ‘Let’s have a game of football,’ she urged as she dragged them through the kitchen.

Just in time, Jenny thought as her father walked in. ‘Morning, Dad. There’s tea in the pot,’ she said, not expecting to receive anything more than a grunt in response.

‘Pour me a cup, and I’ll have some bacon and eggs with it,’ he answered before sauntering off to the front room.

Jenny wrinkled her nose at the foul smell of his body odour and the stench of stale beer. It was bad enough that he came home every night with the pong of rubbish on him, but she couldn’t abide the stink of tobacco and alcohol that lingered on his clothes from when he’d been in the pub.

Though it was closer to lunchtime, she set to cooking his breakfast. Gloria walked into the room, done up to the nines. ‘Where are you going dressed like that?’ Jenny asked.

‘Nowhere,’ Gloria answered offhandedly.

‘So, what’s with all the fancy clobber?’

‘I just like to look nice.’

‘So you’re not going out, and just dressed up like that for no reason,’ Jenny challenged.

‘I might go for a walk.’

‘Where to? The shops will be closed today.’

‘I dunno, down to Chestnut Grove maybe.’

Jenny narrowed her eyes suspiciously. ‘Isn’t that where Dennis Henderson lives, above Queenie’s fag shop?’