After the Salvation Army had moved on, everyone piled back into the warmth of the pub.
Bel, her mind whirring with so many thoughts and feelings, found a seat in a relatively quiet corner and told Joe all that had happened.
Joe, of course, was just relieved that Bel was all right. Knowing her intentions, he’d been worried sick from the moment she’d left Vera’s. They had talked about it beforehand. Bel had told him that she believed her failure to fall pregnant was perpetuating her need for vengeance, but she’d realised that even if she satiated her need for retribution, she’d still be left with a feeling of emptiness. Hatred and vehemence had blinded her – and once they had been pushed aside, she had been able to see more clearly. More rationally.
And with that new perspective, she had decided to use what she had to do good.
Joe wondered how long it would take Jack to get back home once he got wind of what had happened and realised he was now a free man.
All the women knew something was up, though not what, when Bel had snuck off as the King’s speech was starting. Joe had said she needed to sort out a family matter. They knew not to probe further. When they’d seen Helen, Bel and Pearl arrive at the pub together, they knew whatever it was, it must have been serious – but also that whatever had happened had gone in their favour as they all looked happy.
Tired but happy.
Pearl told Bill what had occurred over a large whisky, all the while puffing away on a cigarette.
The more he heard, the more he realised that Pearl had always known how dangerous Charles Havelock was, that she had been right in worrying about the safety of her daughter should he ever find out about her, or should Bel ever tell him that she was his illegitimate child. A child who had proved the man he really was.
Pearl had been the unexpected heroine of the hour, not that she would ever admit it. But she had been. She had found out the truth about Henrietta and in doing so had saved her Isabelle, as well as those her daughter loved and cared for.
Pearl was Mr Havelock’s ghost of Christmas past – and she’d brought Henrietta with her.
Bill wondered what would happen to Henrietta. And whether Pearl would keep on seeing her. She might have to if she wanted to keep the upper hand. That, however, was a subject for another day.
Tonight, he only wanted to know the answer to one question.
One very important question.
Helen sat with Hope on her lap and chatted to Gloria, but not about what had taken place at her grandfather’s. Instead, they talked about Jack, and, of course, about Bobby and Gordon, who had sent their mam a Christmas card. The King’s speech, Gloria said, had made her feel hopeful that she might see them soon, although she had laughed a little bitterly when she’d added that her sons would probably see their baby sister before Jack did.
What a Christmas Day.
Helen would never have thought she could muster a positive thought about Bel’s ma, but she had done something tonight that had shocked them all.
She was glad it was now all out in the open – glad that she had seen for herself the real Charles Havelock, even if it had not been a pretty sight.
It hadn’t surprised her to hear that there had clearly been other victims like Pearl, although her heart bled for the poor girl called Gracie – and for Gracie’s parents, still suffering.
She’d been totally bowled over by the revelation that Bel’s sister Maisie was a call girl – and the eccentric Lily a madam. But then again, now that she knew, it seemed almost obvious. It was what she had learnt about her grandmother that had truly shocked her.
Her grandmother was alive. The poor woman had been locked up in an asylum most of her life. How could anyone do that to another person? To someone you had married, who had borne your children? She wouldn’t say someone you loved, because she doubted her grandfather was capable of loving anyone but himself.
When Helen went to the bar, she saw it was the same barmaid who had served her last New Year’s Eve, which automatically made her think of John. God, how she had wanted to kiss him that night when she’d gone outside to wave him off. She reprimanded herself. She really had to accept that she couldn’t have him.
Turning around, she got a shock to see Rosie, Polly, Dorothy, Angie, Martha and Hannah standing there.
‘We haven’t had a chance to wish yer Merry Christmas,’ Angie said, looking at Helen and smiling. She and Dorothy had decided to ‘let bygones be bygones’, urged on by the rest of the women.
‘A toast!’ Dorothy declared.
They all raised their drinks.
‘Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!’ they all chorused.
Helen joined in the salutations. She knew she had been forgiven and the frostiness towards her had thawed. They all chinked glasses.
She mightn’t have John, but she had her friends.
That was one Christmas wish that had been granted.