Pocketful of Dreams by Jean Fullerton

Author:Jean Fullerton [Fullerton, Jean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781786491381
Publisher: Atlantic Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

‘YOUR CHRISTOPHER SEEMS to be getting on well with your dad,’ said Mattie’s mother as the sound of male laughter burst out from the kitchen.

‘Yes, he does,’ Mattie replied, feeling the warmth from the hearth as she rested back in her father’s fireside chair.

It was three-thirty on Christmas afternoon and the blackout curtains were already tightly drawn. The twinkling tinsel on the Christmas tree in the corner, the dim light of the forty-watt bulb overhead and the soft glow from the fire made the parlour homely and snug.

Despite the fact it was Christmas Day, as always, the older members of the household had been up early. Her father had trudged out as dawn broke to muck out Samson, leaving her mother to get the turkey in the oven. Queenie was up before them all for no reason other than she always was.

Billy had been awake from some unearthly hour, too, demanding to open his presents. For the sake of peace and quiet, her mother had agreed, which meant that once he was busy downstairs ripping wrapping paper, Mattie could catch a precious couple of hours under the covers.

She needed them too. The Germans had discovered that the sight of even a single aircraft would set off all the sirens along the length of the Thames. Therefore they’d decided in the lead up to Christmas to send some old bi-plane left over from the last war to wake the whole of East London at least once a night which meant Mattie, and the rest of London’s population, was exhausted. But, to be truthful, there had been other things keeping her awake for the past few nights.

Even though her gran had promised not to fart or take her teeth out, Mattie was convinced that inviting Christopher to meet her family would be a complete disaster. However, after presenting himself on the dot of eleven, freshly shaven in a suit, collar and tie, he’d bowled her mother over by giving her a box of Jelly Fruits, complimenting her on her ‘lovely house’ and asking if he might be of some help in the kitchen. Seeing her mother warming to him, Mattie had started to relax.

Her father and Charlie had returned just before noon and, after being introduced to Christopher, the Brogan men had stripped to their vests at the kitchen sink to get the worst of the stable off before donning a fresh shirt. Having made themselves respectable, and because the Catholic Club was closed, they’d decanted to the Old House at Home in Watney Street to have the traditional swift half or two, taking Christopher with them.

That was almost three hours ago and now, having demolished a turkey, six pounds of sprouts, carrots, cabbage and at least double that in roast potatoes, followed by a great dollop of Christmas pudding and custard, the women of the household were putting their feet up while the men of the family, with Christopher swelling their number by half again, were in the scullery doing the mountain of washing up accrued by six adults and two children.

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