be a very spartan affair. As for Celia Frost, it made her fume that she still chose to ignore Amy and she hoped the woman would end up alone and lonely as she deserved. Pushing Tommy’s mother from her mind, Phyllis said, ‘Fine, a registry office it is, but I still want it to be a special day, Amy, with you in a lovely dress, and flowers, lots of flowers.’
‘All right, Mum, whatever you say, and afterwards we could sort of copy Rose and go to a restaurant.’
Phyllis was happy with that, and with something she knew that she was keeping as a surprise. Unbeknown to Amy, Rose had already had a word with Samuel, but he hadn’t been happy about the length of time that could be involved. Now though, with the wedding only six months away, Phyllis hoped her plan could come to fruition. If it did, everything would be just perfect, and Stan would be over the moon too.
Celia had made Thomas a cup of cocoa before they retired for the night, and after drinking it he said, ‘Mother, before we go to bed I have something to tell you. Amy and I are going to marry next year and we’ve decided on April.’
She stared at him in horror. ‘No, Thomas, you can’t mean that!’
‘I’d hardly say it if I didn’t mean it.’
‘Next April! No, I can’t believe it.’
‘I don’t see why. We’re engaged and you must have known the wedding would follow.’
‘I didn’t want to think about it.’
‘I know … you buried your head in the sand, but you’ve got to face up to it now. Amy is going to be my wife, your daughter-in-law and you’ve got to accept that. You’ve also got to stop slighting Amy. It’s gone on for long enough.’
‘I haven’t got to do anything,’ Celia snapped.
Thomas reacted angrily, his voice rising. ‘Fine, but if that’s your attitude, think about this. When I marry my loyalties will be to my wife – and I won’t be visiting you if Amy isn’t welcome too.
Celia’s stomach churned with a mixture of anger and fury. Thomas had made his feelings clear. If she didn’t accept Amy, she’d lose him too. It rankled, but there really was no other choice and she said, ‘Thomas, you know I couldn’t bear that. All right, invite Amy to join us for dinner tomorrow and I’ll do my best to make her welcome.’
The anger drained from his face as Thomas said, ‘You won’t regret it, Mum. Amy is a sweet, kind person and I’m sure that like me, you’ll grow to love her.’
Celia felt like telling her son that hell would freeze over before that happened, but Thomas stood up, leaned over to kiss her and said he was going to bed. She bade him goodnight, and watched him leave the room, while she was left still inwardly fuming.
Thomas had chosen Amy over her, and now he had the audacity to virtually blackmail her into accepting the common slut too. While words of vitriol against Amy poured into her mind, Celia grabbed a writing pad, putting them all down on paper, along with everything that had happened since George walked out.
When it was finished, Celia found an envelope and the last address she had for her son Jeremy. He had probably moved on by now so might never receive it; but if he did, Jeremy would at least know what a terrible life his mother now suffered, Celia thought.
Phyllis looked around her living room, smiling, despite the cold and wet Thursday December morning. When Rose had moved into her new house, she’d insisted on some new furniture, and as always Samuel had given in to her.
To save her the hassle of getting rid of it, Rose had begged her to take some of the furniture from the Bethnal Green house off her hands and Phyllis had been happy to oblige. The suite may be old, but to Phyllis it was beautiful, the fabric a plush rose brocade that showed hardly any signs of wear. It was a bit large for her small living room, but Phyllis didn’t care, and though she’d only been able to make use of one pair of the matching, pinch pleat curtains, they made the room look warm and inviting, if a little crowded. The Christmas tree didn’t help; though only a small one it took up one side of the hearth, one of the chairs in front of it hiding the lower branches. She’d forgone any other decorations, just putting ornaments on the tree, and it did look rather nice, Phyllis thought, smiling at the very old, homemade angel on the top.
Of course Phyllis knew her home was still nothing in comparison to her cousin’s, but she didn’t envy or begrudge Rose her change of fortunes. Instead she was growing ever closer to her cousin and looked forward to going to work every day. With that in mind, Phyllis put her coat on, grabbed her umbrella and hurried out. The scaffolding was still up outside the house, along with Mabel’s and the empty ones on either side of them, though in this weather Phyllis doubted the roofers would be working that day.
Phyllis was glad she didn’t have to worry about the weather. It was lovely and warm in Rose’s house and any worries she’d had that her cousin would lord it over her had soon been dispelled. In fact, Rose insisted that they do the housework together, which meant it took a lot less than five hours, leaving them loads of time to spend in the kitchen, chatting over cups of tea.
With the wind buffeting her umbrella, by the time Phyllis arrived she was soaked. Rose took one look at her and urged her to the kitchen where her coat was swiftly removed, a towel handed to her and dry slippers offered for her feet.
‘You should have stayed at home,’ Rose chided. ‘I could have managed without you.’
‘It’ll be Christmas soon and with saving for Amy’s wedding too, I didn’t want to lose five hours’ pay.’
‘You silly mare, I’d still have given you your full wage,’ Rose protested as she poured two hot drinks. ‘Here, get this down you and you can dry off before we start work.’
‘I feel guilty enough without letting you pay me when I don’t turn up,’ Phyllis said, voicing her feelings.
‘I don’t get it. What have you got to feel guilty about?’
‘Rose, even if I did it on my own, it wouldn’t take five hours a day to clean this house. Most of the bedrooms aren’t used, and with just you and Samuel living here the rest of the house is so tidy that it hardly needs one pair of hands, let alone two to keep it nice.’
‘Leave it out. There’s polishing, hoovering, along with the laundry and ironing.’
‘They’d still get done if you cut my hours.’
‘No, I don’t want to do that,’ Rose said, shaking her head emphatically.
‘You must,’ Phyllis insisted. ‘I’m not daft and though I really appreciate what you’re doing, it’s making me feel like a charity case.’
‘Now hold on, you’ve got it all wrong. Our last cleaner did the same hours as you, and this house is about the same size.’
‘Yes, but did you help her to clean it?’
‘Well, no, but I enjoy doing it with you,’ Rose answered. ‘We have a laugh, and if you must know I don’t want to cut your hours because I love having you here
