Kitty Neale - A Mother’s Sacrifice

Published by Avon an imprint of

HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2017

Copyright © Kitty Neale 2017

Kitty Neale asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008191672

Ebook Edition © December 2016 ISBN: 9780008191689

Version 2017-01-09

For my Mum.

To the most amazing and inspirational woman I have ever known. You have always been there for me to share my tears and my joys and have offered unconditional love and support throughout, without which I may have floundered. You have my greatest admiration and respect, and leave me in awe of your strength. You have given me life and opportunity, and I thank you for everything. I love you xxx

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Part 1, 1947

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Part 2, 1967

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Q&A With Kitty Neale

About the Author

By the Same Author

About the Publisher

Battersea, London, 1947

‘Glenda!’ The front door flew open and Glenda Jenkins tensed as she heard her husband shout.

‘Get your glad rags on, we’re going down the Castle. Alfie Ledger’s missus had a boy last night. We’re gonna wet the baby’s head.’

Glenda pulled the covers over Johnnie, tucking him into his crib. At seven months old, he was teething and it made him tetchy, so she didn’t want to wake him and drag him out in the damp evening air to Harry’s parents’ house. She hated going to the pub too, but knew it would be useless to protest. Anyway, it sounded like Harry was in a good mood and she dared not rile him.

She took a deep breath and moved her slim frame to the top of the stairs as she called down, ‘All right, love, just give me a few minutes. Have you checked with your mum that it’s OK to drop Johnnie in?’

‘No, but you know she loves having the little munchkin. Just get a move on, will you? We’re missing valuable drinking time.’

Glenda sighed heavily again. It was Thursday, Maude’s Tombola night at the Catholic church, so she might not want to look after her grandson. But Glenda was used to Harry barking his orders, and when Harry said jump, she knew better than to argue. She would take Johnnie’s bottles and formula for Maude to make up. Once again, she felt a familiar surge of guilt that she’d been unable to breast-feed.

Quickly slipping off her housecoat and smoothing down her drab dark-green dress, Glenda checked her reflection in the bedroom mirror. She was twenty-four and her long legs would have looked good in one of those fashionable new knee-length skirts, but Harry wouldn’t let her have one as he said only tarts and whores wore them. She would have loved a smart jacket with shoulder pads too, but Harry said that big shoulders were for men, not for decent wives and mothers. Anyway, with clothes still being rationed, and only stuff made of cheap, scratchy material available, she’d have to make do with what she had.

Content with her dress, she patted her brown hair, wrapped a scarf over her waves and tied it under her chin before leaning in closer to the mirror to apply a touch of lipstick. Damn it, she thought as she noticed the yellowing mark still visible on her jaw. Harry rarely hit her on her face but his violence seemed to be escalating and last week, after a skinful of beer, he had come home the worse for wear and woken her, dragging her out of bed to warm up his dinner. She had thrown it away earlier, thinking he wouldn’t want it, but that had been the wrong thing to do. She had paid for her mistake with several blows to the head.

When they entered the smoky pub, Harry steered Glenda towards the saloon bar where several of his mates’ wives were already sat. Before the war women weren’t seen in London pubs, but things were changing and, as long as you were escorted, it was now acceptable to be in the saloon bar. A cheer went up from the group of men. ‘Look, Harry’s here!’

‘All right, lads, where’s the proud new father?’ Harry said, smiling as he greeted his mates. ‘There he is. Alfie, my old mucker, let me get you a drink.’

Glenda stood back shyly, her head lowered as Harry summoned the barman and ordered a round of drinks for everyone. His generosity and popularity had once been attractive to her, but now she worried as she saw the rent money going over the bar.

‘Glenda, hello, love. How are you? I ain’t seen you in ages!’

Glenda looked up and inwardly cringed. It was Betty Howard, the last person she wanted to be seen with and the biggest gossip in Battersea. If you wanted something known locally, Betty was the person to tell. She was also the most gossiped about and had worked in the local greengrocer’s since she was fifteen. Though she was nice looking and had dated most of the men in the area, Betty was still single and known to be flighty. Harry had come home only yesterday and said that Betty had her eye on Billy Myers now. Apparently she had turned up at the old bombsite on Lavender Hill which was now a building site and brought sandwiches for Billy. All the workmen had had a right laugh about that.