Chapter 69: Linda Booth

Ashford: Sunday, October 19th

Linda pulled the key from the lock and closed the front door. Switching on the hall light, she checked herself in the mirror. Her eyelids were still red and swollen but there was nothing she could do about that. Taking off her coat and scarf she repeated the words her gran had told her to say, the ones she’d practised in her mind all the way home on the bus.

‘You can’t go on like this, pet.’ Nelly hugged Linda goodbye on the front doorstep. ‘Come right out with it. Tell your mam and dad you’re pregnant, that it’s Martin’s, but you won’t marry ’im. They’ll stand by yer … and so will your Auntie Mary when you need her. Just remember, you’re not the first to get into a pickle like this … and you won’t be the last.’ She waved to her next-door neighbour, Sakhi, who was standing by her garden gate watching her two boys riding their bicycles. ‘But you ’ave some decisions to make for yourself. You know that, and I know you; you’ll do the right thing … for you and the bairn.’ Holding on to the door-frame she heaved herself off the doorstep and shuffled after Linda. ‘It’ll be fine. You’ll see. Just remember wot I said.’

Linda kissed Nelly. ‘Thanks, Gran.’ She let her face rest against the wrinkled skin of the old woman’s cheek, breathing in the comforting faint smell of soap and mustiness that had belonged to her gran for as long as Linda could remember. ‘I will.’

Keeping a firm smile on her face, she nodded at the small Asian woman as she passed her.

Just before turning onto Manchester Road she turned around and waved. The two women were chatting by her gran’s gate. But her gran’s eyes were on Linda and she returned the wave.

Waiting at the bus stop, the apprehension returned in waves of cold sickness in the pit of her stomach.

Linda stared into the mirror. ‘I’m pregnant. It’s Martin’s,’ she murmured. ‘I’m not marrying him. We’re finished.’ She nodded; it was enough. She’d leave the ranting to her mother.

A ripple of light laughter came from upstairs, followed by another, lower, laugh. Richard and Karen. Linda envied them; whatever troubles faced them they had each other. The sob in her throat was unexpected. ‘Pull yourself together,’ she muttered to her reflection. It wasn’t that she even wanted Martin, the memory of him crouched on the floor disgusted her. But still the fear of what was happening panicked her in the nights. She was going to be an unmarried mother. It was what she was choosing to be. But she’d have no husband, no job, no money. Soon she’d be starting to show; at thirteen weeks her uniform was already straining across her bust and waist and the local gossips would have a field day. Well, not at my expense, she thought. One way or another she’d get away from Ashford. And right now Auntie Mary was her only hope. ‘What a mess,’ she breathed, dumping her coat on the end of the banister at the bottom of the stairs.

‘Linda?’ Ted opened the door at the end of the hall. ‘I thought it must be you. We heard the front door. You’ve been ages out here. Are you okay, love?’

‘Is it our Linda, Ted?’

Did she sound drunk? ‘Course it is, Mum. Who else were you expecting?’ Linda followed her father into the front room.

Her mother seemed sober enough. She was flicking through the Radio Times. She sighed, flinging the magazine onto the seat next to her. She curled her legs up under her on the settee. ‘There’s not a thing on the telly tonight,’ she complained. A shout and then giggling came from upstairs. ‘And I’m not happy with them being up there on their own.’

‘Richard’s a sensible lad.’

‘Our Mary will go mad if he brings trouble to their door on top of everything else he’s managed to do.’

‘It’s not his fault Karen’s got George Shuttleworth for a stepfather.’ Ted spoke mildly but Linda heard the worry underneath the words.

‘Yes, well…’ Ellen stood up. ‘Either of you two want a drink? A brew,’ she said, defensive against her husband’s steady stare. ‘A brew, that’s all.’

Linda waited until her mother closed the door behind her. ‘Is there anything in the house, Dad?’

‘Sherry. But I’ve hidden it in the pantry.’

‘She’ll sniff it out.’ Linda‘s stomach was knotted. Her news was going to tip her mother over the edge again, there was no doubt about that. She felt sorry for her dad. He bore the brunt of all that went wrong in her mother’s life.

‘Nowt I can do about it if she does, love. You know that.’

‘I know.’ Perhaps it would be better if she told him now, while they were on their own. Linda cleared her throat. When she looked at Ted, he was waiting for her to speak.

‘What is it, love?’

She should have known; he could always read her like a book. She folded her hands over her waist. ‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ she said.