dashed the tears from her eyes, ‘but you paid out a lot of money for the wedding – and now this!’
‘Huh, Dan Draper hardly let us put our hands into our pockets. All we paid for was your wedding dress and the flowers. Your father wasn't happy about it, I can tell you, but Dan Draper had to act the big man.’
‘What's up? Don't you like it, sweetheart?’ Ron Simpson asked as he joined them in the small hall.
‘Of course I do. It's lovely,’ Linda cried, her emotions all over the place. Her father's job as a bus conductor didn't pay a fortune and she knew the cost of this gift would have been overwhelming.
‘That's all right then,’ he said with a wink and a loving smile, ‘but haven't you just made a pot of tea? One that's growing cold?’
‘Oh, Dad …’
They returned to the kitchen where Linda got her feelings under control as she poured the tea. George might return that afternoon so she'd have to go soon, but was suddenly swamped with dread at the thought of leaving her parents' house. Here she was loved and felt safe. All the doubts about her marriage that she'd tried to quell forced themselves to the front of her mind. She was afraid to go home! Oh God, please let George be in a good mood.
Chapter Eight
When George left the pub at two thirty, he arrived home aroused and ready to take Linda upstairs. His brows creased. Where the hell was she?
‘Linda!’ he yelled.
There was no reply. Swiftly he ran upstairs to the bedroom, but finding it empty his mellow mood began to melt. It didn't take him long to look around the rest of the small house, then he strode next door to rap loudly on Ivy's knocker.
‘Is Linda here?’ he snapped.
‘No, but she was around earlier,’ Steve told him.
‘Who is it?’ Ivy shouted from inside.
‘It's George. He's looking for Linda.’
There was a small pause before Ivy's voice rang out again: ‘Try your mum's.’
George didn't bother to say goodbye, just turning on his heels to head for number one. He didn't bother to knock and walked in to find his mother on her knees washing the skirting boards.
‘Have you seen Linda?’ he asked.
Joan pushed herself up, giving him a look that George couldn't fathom. ‘I haven't seen the girl, but from what Ivy tells me, your wife isn't too well. Not only that—’
‘She's got a bit of morning sickness, that's all,’ George interrupted.
As Petula came running downstairs, George asked, ‘Have
you
seen Linda?’
‘No, sorry.’
George saw Linda walking past the window and swiftly threw open the front door.
‘Oi, you! Where have you been?’ he shouted.
Linda halted in her tracks, her knuckles white as she gripped the handle of a huge carriage pram.
George moved forward, his eyes narrowed. ‘What the bloody hell have you got there?’
Still Linda didn't speak and to George's annoyance his sister joined them.
‘Oh, isn't it lovely?’ Petula said when she saw the pram.
At last Linda spoke, her voice quivering. ‘It … it's a present from my mum and dad.’
George's fists clenched. So, she'd been to see her parents, sneaking off without telling him. He couldn't stand Ron and Enid Simpson, the pair of them interfering old busybodies who had made it obvious from the start that they didn't think him good enough for their precious daughter. He'd beendetermined that once they married he'd make them pay, keeping Linda away from them as much as possible. Now, though, the cow had gone behind his back to pay them a visit.
He eyed the pram, seething. They must think he couldn't provide for Linda, or the coming child. To George it was like a slap in the face, his voice a growl as he said, ‘That bloody thing will take up half the house. It's got to go.’
‘Oh, no, don't say that,’ Linda cried. ‘We can keep it in the yard.’
‘I said it's got to go!’
‘Don't be silly, George,’ said Pet. ‘I know it's big, but you'll need a pram.’
‘Who asked you?’ George snapped and turning to Linda
‘Huh, Dan Draper hardly let us put our hands into our pockets. All we paid for was your wedding dress and the flowers. Your father wasn't happy about it, I can tell you, but Dan Draper had to act the big man.’
‘What's up? Don't you like it, sweetheart?’ Ron Simpson asked as he joined them in the small hall.
‘Of course I do. It's lovely,’ Linda cried, her emotions all over the place. Her father's job as a bus conductor didn't pay a fortune and she knew the cost of this gift would have been overwhelming.
‘That's all right then,’ he said with a wink and a loving smile, ‘but haven't you just made a pot of tea? One that's growing cold?’
‘Oh, Dad …’
They returned to the kitchen where Linda got her feelings under control as she poured the tea. George might return that afternoon so she'd have to go soon, but was suddenly swamped with dread at the thought of leaving her parents' house. Here she was loved and felt safe. All the doubts about her marriage that she'd tried to quell forced themselves to the front of her mind. She was afraid to go home! Oh God, please let George be in a good mood.
Chapter Eight
When George left the pub at two thirty, he arrived home aroused and ready to take Linda upstairs. His brows creased. Where the hell was she?
‘Linda!’ he yelled.
There was no reply. Swiftly he ran upstairs to the bedroom, but finding it empty his mellow mood began to melt. It didn't take him long to look around the rest of the small house, then he strode next door to rap loudly on Ivy's knocker.
‘Is Linda here?’ he snapped.
‘No, but she was around earlier,’ Steve told him.
‘Who is it?’ Ivy shouted from inside.
‘It's George. He's looking for Linda.’
There was a small pause before Ivy's voice rang out again: ‘Try your mum's.’
George didn't bother to say goodbye, just turning on his heels to head for number one. He didn't bother to knock and walked in to find his mother on her knees washing the skirting boards.
‘Have you seen Linda?’ he asked.
Joan pushed herself up, giving him a look that George couldn't fathom. ‘I haven't seen the girl, but from what Ivy tells me, your wife isn't too well. Not only that—’
‘She's got a bit of morning sickness, that's all,’ George interrupted.
As Petula came running downstairs, George asked, ‘Have
you
seen Linda?’
‘No, sorry.’
George saw Linda walking past the window and swiftly threw open the front door.
‘Oi, you! Where have you been?’ he shouted.
Linda halted in her tracks, her knuckles white as she gripped the handle of a huge carriage pram.
George moved forward, his eyes narrowed. ‘What the bloody hell have you got there?’
Still Linda didn't speak and to George's annoyance his sister joined them.
‘Oh, isn't it lovely?’ Petula said when she saw the pram.
At last Linda spoke, her voice quivering. ‘It … it's a present from my mum and dad.’
George's fists clenched. So, she'd been to see her parents, sneaking off without telling him. He couldn't stand Ron and Enid Simpson, the pair of them interfering old busybodies who had made it obvious from the start that they didn't think him good enough for their precious daughter. He'd beendetermined that once they married he'd make them pay, keeping Linda away from them as much as possible. Now, though, the cow had gone behind his back to pay them a visit.
He eyed the pram, seething. They must think he couldn't provide for Linda, or the coming child. To George it was like a slap in the face, his voice a growl as he said, ‘That bloody thing will take up half the house. It's got to go.’
‘Oh, no, don't say that,’ Linda cried. ‘We can keep it in the yard.’
‘I said it's got to go!’
‘Don't be silly, George,’ said Pet. ‘I know it's big, but you'll need a pram.’
‘Who asked you?’ George snapped and turning to Linda
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