Spilt Milk by Amanda Hodgkinson

Author:Amanda Hodgkinson [Hodgkinson, Amanda]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General
ISBN: 9780141964997
Google: YXJAAQAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00HEW7992
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2014-02-06T08:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

Vivian came to the pub because what else could she do? When she got the telegram from Nellie, she had caught the train the same morning, determined to help her sister and niece. And how long had it been since she stood here in this forlorn little street by the railway bridge, looking up at a set of pub doors, summoning the courage to go inside? Over fifteen years, she thought. Yes, it must be.

Nellie had aged a bit but so had she, and yet Vivian felt like they had never been apart. Nellie was just the same woman. Her hair was still long, though she wore it piled on her head now rather than in that tight plait she used to favour. And it was tinged with grey, of course. Didn’t she look like Rose? In fact, it was startling, the resemblance.

Nellie didn’t mention Birdie and ushered her inside, through the pub, into the back rooms. There she offered Vivian a seat on a hard leather couch, explaining that it was new. Bought on hire purchase from one of the modern showrooms that had opened up on the Essex Road. Nellie had seen it advertised in a magazine, and George had got it delivered.

Though she said nothing, Vivian thought the couch she was slipping about on was hideous. An awful modern thing.

‘How are you?’ she asked.

Nellie hugged herself.

‘I’m all right. Or I was until now. You’ll have to see what we’re doing in the pub, Vivie. George has renamed the saloon bar “the refreshments bar”. We’re getting a lot of married couples coming in these days, and they want a bit of class. Some of them want cocktails, would you believe? George says these new housing estates going up everywhere are bringing in a different kind of customer.’

Vivian knew Nellie was talking too much. Her sister was near to tears. She couldn’t fool her for a minute.

‘Where is she, Nellie?’ she asked.

‘Gone shopping up west with George for the day. I’m so glad you came.’

‘Of course I came. What’s to be done though?’

‘Birdie’s a good girl. I don’t want you to think she isn’t.’

‘Have you spoken to the boy involved? She’ll have to marry him.’

‘She says she met him at a dance and doesn’t know his name.’

‘Oh,’ said Vivian, and lit a cigarette. ‘I see.’

Nellie got up and began to pace. ‘Shall we go out? I’m afraid George will come home and find us here. Whatever happens, he mustn’t know. It would hurt him so badly.’

‘But if she keeps it?’

‘If she keeps it, then we’ll tell him when we need to tell him.’

Nellie took Vivian to walk along the embankment and see the sights across the river. Vivian suggested Birdie stay with her. They could say she was working in her tea room and nobody would be any the wiser. Vivian could help Birdie bring the child up if she chose to keep it. Her house was big, and she still felt a great deal of affection for the girl.

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