The Doll Collector by Joanne Stephen-Ward

Author:Joanne Stephen-Ward [Stephen-Ward, Joanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books
Published: 2018-11-19T18:30:00+00:00

Maurice arrived home at six o’clock. He had spent most of the day walking in Bushy Park watching contented families playing with their dogs. Excited children rode their new bikes.

‘Look at me, Mummy. Watch this!’

‘That’s very clever, darling. Be careful – don’t go too fast.’

He imagined walking hand in hand with Odette through the park. He thought about the children they might have and how nice it would be to come here and teach them to ride their bikes. He remembered how his mother used to take him to Richmond Park. She’d meet other mothers and try and persuade him to play with the other children. But he was too shy. The lack of money never worried her. ‘You don’t have to have a lot of money to be happy, Morri,’ she used to say. ‘I know where you get your funny ideas about winning the pools from. Your dad was always going to win lots of money one day. You’re just like him,’ she would say wistfully. ‘You live in a dream world.’

Last year, it had just been him and Lotus. He had bought her a tin of sardines and a catnip mouse. He’d slept in. Christmas lunch had been turkey breasts and mince pies that he had bought from the supermarket. He had spent the afternoon and evening watching the movies on television.

He was frozen and stiff when he opened the front door. The car heater had not had time to heat up on the short drive. The smell of roasting turkey made his mouth water. Warmth from the central heating made his face and hands tingle. He heard Gloria crying. Keeping his coat on, he went into the lounge and gently pushed the door open. She was sitting on the sofa. The box of tissues beside her was empty. Her eyes were puffy, and her face was red and blotchy.

He stayed in the safety of the doorway. ‘I’m sorry I upset you, love. I’m not good at taking hints. And I thought you’d want to pick your own ring.’

‘When can we get married?’ she asked in a voice hoarse from crying.

‘One day.’

‘Let’s set a date now.’

He shook his head. ‘You can’t jump into these things. Can’t hurry them.’

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. ‘All you have to do is book the registry office.’

He looked horrified. ‘A registry office? No, love, you’ve got to do things properly. I’ve been thinking a lot. A church wedding, with you dressed in white, and a honeymoon somewhere warm.’

‘Do you mean it, Morri?’

Relieved she wasn’t going to hit him, he nodded.

‘When?’

‘We can’t afford it now, but I’ll save all our money.’

‘Oh, Morri, I can’t wait, let’s get married next week.’

He hid his panic. ‘A shabby wedding? Do you think The Smoochers had a registry office do? I bet they had the works. Big church, a Rolls Royce, wedding cake and a party.’

‘I bet they did,’ she said. ‘And so will we.’ She picked up the pile of screwed up tissues from the floor.

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