[The Street 02] - The Family (2011) by Kay Brellend

Author:Kay Brellend [Brellend, Kay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2011-12-17T05:00:00+00:00

‘When I see terrible injuries like that I’m glad that my Wally never made it back from France.’ Marge was ducking and bobbing in order to peer through the shop window while at the same time trying to keep out of sight.

Faye gave up stacking loaves on to a shelf, wiped her floury hands on her overall, and came round the counter to join Marge. Her curiosity transformed to pity as she focused on the fellow who was loitering outside. One side of his face was visibly scarred despite his effort to shield the damage with the brim of his hat.

‘I couldn’t have coped with Wally if he’d come back in that state. He had a head wound too, but he died on the train taking him to the field hospital.’ Marge shook her head and sighed heavily. ‘I know I shouldn’t say it, ’cos life’s life, ain’t it? But what sort of life’s he got, poor sod? And what sort of life’s his wife got, I wonder? I know I couldn’t have been lying all the while and telling Wally it didn’t matter that he looked a fright.’

Unfortunately, it wasn’t unusual to see living proof of the carnage of the Great War. Men who’d been blinded or crippled could be seen leaning on sticks on street corners, desperately trying to scrape a living by hawking odds and ends. Those who were able-bodied enough might be seen singing or dancing to entertain the theatre crowds and earn themselves a few bob for their trouble. The land fit for heroes that the politicians had promised the returning troops had never materialised. For some wretched war casualties a meagre pension was all they’d had to look forward to for a decade. And there was no prospect of things improving now, not when even fit and healthy employees were being laid off.

A melancholy feeling settled on Faye as she wondered how her mother would have coped had her dad returned to them crippled or mutilated. There wasn’t a day passed she didn’t think of him and want him, and their happy family life, back. Yet what Marge had said in her blunt way was true: the reality of dealing with somebody so dreadfully maimed, and no doubt angry and bitter to boot, must surely test even the strongest soul’s love and dedication. And she now knew, thanks to Jimmy Wild, that her mother could be awfully weak.

Oddly, the fellow outside the shop seemed well-to-do, and jovial. His attitude suggested that Marge might have been a bit hasty in her opinion that he had had no life. He was smartly dressed in a double-breasted suit, and the hat, jauntily set to shadow his puckered profile, looked to be expensive. A moment later Faye was startled from her reflection and alarm, not sympathy, was shaping her features.

Donald Bateman had strolled into view and joined the man they’d been watching. She instinctively retreated a few steps, hoping the two of them weren’t about to enter the bakery.

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