him. I didn't know he was back; the car wasn't on the drive."
"It's all right." Lizzie put a hand on Peggy's shoulder.
"Stop shivering. Go on. Go on over home."
It was odd, but in her mind the annexe was already cut off from the house- she looked upon it as her daughter's home- yet she had only to step through a door and she was in it.
Before doing as Lizzie had bidden her, Peggy said, "It's about the job, isn't it? He hasn't got it. What d'you think he'll do?"
"I don't know," her mother answered her; "I just don't know. But he'll do something."
He could have a car smash or go into the river. Peggy took a gasping breath: she must stop thinking like this about him; it was dreadful.
She turned away quickly, saying, "Will ... will you come in later, Mam?" And Lizzie answered brusquely, "Yes; yes, later."
izo
Peggy found Andrew standing waiting for her in the kitchen. He looked fresh and smelt clean. He enquired immediately, "What's the matter?
Trouble? "
"Yes. Great-gran's passed over Dad for the management and he's gone nearly berserk."
"Well, he shouldn't be surprised at that; every body in the shop seemed to know that Mr. Brooker was set for it."
"Did they?"
"Oh yes."
For a moment Peggy felt herself on the defensive, and she said, "Well, how could they? Why was that? Dad's been there for years and Mr.
Brooker's comparatively new."
He turned from her.
"Well, you're not the only one that doesn't like your dad. Anyway, what's that lovely smell?" He now pointed to the oven, and she said,
"It's a casserole."
"I'm hungry."
She immediately set about getting the dish out of the oven. She heaped his plate full with the stew and placed only a small portion on her own. And she could not help but feel satisfaction as she watched him eat.
"Is it all right?" she asked.
He raised his eyes and said with emphasis, "Lovely. Lovely. You can cook."
"Mam did most of it," she confessed.
"Well, she showed me how to do it with the herbs and things."
"Is there any left?"
"A little." She scooped the remainder of the stew on to his plate, saying as she did so, "You want to leave a bit of room for the apple pie."
When the meal was finished and he was sitting back in his chair she said, "Do you want to go to the pictures?"
After letting out a long breath, he replied, "Yes and no. Quite candidly I feel too full and tired to move. Anyway, I'd bet you a shilling, within five minutes of getting in I'd slip off the seat and lie on my back, because I seem to spend my life now lying on my
back."
She laughed, then said, "I'm not particular either. Anyway I feel we should be here in case Dad comes back and starts anything."
"Huh! What could we do? What could I do? Stand up to him, hit him?"
She laughed again.
"Well, you could have a try," she said.
He sighed as he said, "He's an old man." Then he added, "I'd like to finish that drawing of the car."
"Oh, go ahead."
So it was that Lizzie, coming over an hour later, saw for the first time his drawing of a car with a model draped across the bonnet. But what intrigued her more was the border, which was made up of izz smaller drawings of all the pieces that went to make an engine.
Lizzie was now looking over his shoulder.
"I didn't know you could draw like that," she said.
"And you've shown all the odds and ends.
You're a quick learner. "
"Well, it was the only thing I was good at at school. Likely I would have taken it further had I stayed on."
"Now if that was in colour it would make a nice poster, especially with a caption."
He looked up at her and said brightly, "Yes. Yes, it would, wouldn't it?" as if this very idea hadn't come to him two nights ago, about both the poster and the caption.
Turning to Peggy now, she said, "He's back. He went straight upstairs.
He's had nothing to eat that I know of. "
"Well, Mam, you wouldn't expect him to come down into the dining-room, would you?"
"Yes, I would. Knowing him, I would. There have been rows before, but he's always liked
"It's all right." Lizzie put a hand on Peggy's shoulder.
"Stop shivering. Go on. Go on over home."
It was odd, but in her mind the annexe was already cut off from the house- she looked upon it as her daughter's home- yet she had only to step through a door and she was in it.
Before doing as Lizzie had bidden her, Peggy said, "It's about the job, isn't it? He hasn't got it. What d'you think he'll do?"
"I don't know," her mother answered her; "I just don't know. But he'll do something."
He could have a car smash or go into the river. Peggy took a gasping breath: she must stop thinking like this about him; it was dreadful.
She turned away quickly, saying, "Will ... will you come in later, Mam?" And Lizzie answered brusquely, "Yes; yes, later."
izo
Peggy found Andrew standing waiting for her in the kitchen. He looked fresh and smelt clean. He enquired immediately, "What's the matter?
Trouble? "
"Yes. Great-gran's passed over Dad for the management and he's gone nearly berserk."
"Well, he shouldn't be surprised at that; every body in the shop seemed to know that Mr. Brooker was set for it."
"Did they?"
"Oh yes."
For a moment Peggy felt herself on the defensive, and she said, "Well, how could they? Why was that? Dad's been there for years and Mr.
Brooker's comparatively new."
He turned from her.
"Well, you're not the only one that doesn't like your dad. Anyway, what's that lovely smell?" He now pointed to the oven, and she said,
"It's a casserole."
"I'm hungry."
She immediately set about getting the dish out of the oven. She heaped his plate full with the stew and placed only a small portion on her own. And she could not help but feel satisfaction as she watched him eat.
"Is it all right?" she asked.
He raised his eyes and said with emphasis, "Lovely. Lovely. You can cook."
"Mam did most of it," she confessed.
"Well, she showed me how to do it with the herbs and things."
"Is there any left?"
"A little." She scooped the remainder of the stew on to his plate, saying as she did so, "You want to leave a bit of room for the apple pie."
When the meal was finished and he was sitting back in his chair she said, "Do you want to go to the pictures?"
After letting out a long breath, he replied, "Yes and no. Quite candidly I feel too full and tired to move. Anyway, I'd bet you a shilling, within five minutes of getting in I'd slip off the seat and lie on my back, because I seem to spend my life now lying on my
back."
She laughed, then said, "I'm not particular either. Anyway I feel we should be here in case Dad comes back and starts anything."
"Huh! What could we do? What could I do? Stand up to him, hit him?"
She laughed again.
"Well, you could have a try," she said.
He sighed as he said, "He's an old man." Then he added, "I'd like to finish that drawing of the car."
"Oh, go ahead."
So it was that Lizzie, coming over an hour later, saw for the first time his drawing of a car with a model draped across the bonnet. But what intrigued her more was the border, which was made up of izz smaller drawings of all the pieces that went to make an engine.
Lizzie was now looking over his shoulder.
"I didn't know you could draw like that," she said.
"And you've shown all the odds and ends.
You're a quick learner. "
"Well, it was the only thing I was good at at school. Likely I would have taken it further had I stayed on."
"Now if that was in colour it would make a nice poster, especially with a caption."
He looked up at her and said brightly, "Yes. Yes, it would, wouldn't it?" as if this very idea hadn't come to him two nights ago, about both the poster and the caption.
Turning to Peggy now, she said, "He's back. He went straight upstairs.
He's had nothing to eat that I know of. "
"Well, Mam, you wouldn't expect him to come down into the dining-room, would you?"
"Yes, I would. Knowing him, I would. There have been rows before, but he's always liked
Similar Books
