Blake, our next-door neighbour. He hasn’t been the same since his wife died last year and Mum often goes round to keep him company. We got Tim to ask her to pop round when we came back, but it’s still been a mad dash to get everything ready and the table laid. Come and see the cake,’ Pearl invited as she led them through to the kitchen.
‘Derek, hello,’ Bernie said and after his greeting was returned he duly admired Emily’s birthday cake.
‘I won’t be a minute. I need the bathroom,’ John said, hurrying off.
Bernie took the opportunity to talk to Pearl and Derek out of the boy’s hearing. ‘Dolly heard from Kevin. He’s … well … he’s up for parole again.’
‘Do you think he’ll get it this time?’ Pearl asked worriedly.
‘With his so-called religious conversion, Dolly seems to think so.’
Pearl frowned. ‘What do you mean, so-called conversion?’
‘When it comes to Kevin, I’m not as gullible as Dolly, yet she seems convinced it’s genuine,’ Bernie admitted. ‘On her last visit Kevin was even spouting that if he’s refused parole again it must be because God has work for him to do within the prison; that his calling might be to help the other inmates. He says if he does get out, he’s going to start up some sort of refuge for alcoholics and homeless people – lost souls as he calls them.’
‘Goodness!’ Pearl exclaimed.
‘I doubt there’s any goodness involved,’ Bernie said, ‘especially as he was probably hinting for a substantial donation.’
‘Do you think he’ll want to see John?’
‘I don’t know, love. Dolly seems to think so, but she knows you’ve got sole custody. Mind you, John’s curious about his father and said today that he’d like to see him.’
Pearl’s face paled. ‘But what if Kevin tries to take John away from me?’
‘He’d better not,’ Bernie growled. ‘And anyway, if you tell John the truth about Kevin, he won’t be so keen to see him.’
‘No,’ Pearl protested. ‘He’s far too young to cope with it yet.’
There was the sound of footsteps and John appeared in the doorway, bringing the conversation to an abrupt end.
‘Well, lad,’ Bernie said, ‘I’d best be off, and Pearl, tell Emily I said happy birthday. I’m sure she’s going to be thrilled with that cake.’
‘Yes, she’ll love it,’ Pearl agreed, ‘and we’re taking her to the theatre tonight.’
‘That sounds right up Emily’s street,’ Bernie commented, then said his goodbyes. He was thoughtful as he got into his car. They were a happy family and having lived in Emily’s house since he was a baby, John had only ever known love and stability. If Kevin got out, all that could change, and Bernie found himself again hoping that his son would remain in prison.
At five thirty, Emily clapped her hands with delight. ‘Oh, look, Tim, it’s such a beautiful cake.’
‘Yes, it is,’ Tim agreed as he held out a chair ready for her to sit down.
The cake was in the centre of the table, and there were cucumber sandwiches, tiny rolls stuffed with tuna, some with egg, and lovely home-made biscuits. Emily smiled as she looked around the table. Her friends, Libby Moore and her husband, were smiling back, her gorgeous grandson too, and of course Derek and Pearl. From the day she had found her daughter again, Emily’s life had been full of joy. They had lived together for thirteen years now and were very close, with Derek moving in too when he married Pearl. They had been happy years, yet it still hurt Emily that she had missed so much of Pearl’s childhood.
Emily would never forget how furious her father had been when she had become pregnant out of wedlock. She had been kept a virtual prisoner in her parents’ large house, out of sight of anyone, and when she had given birth she was heartbroken to be told her baby was stillborn. Many, many, years later, when her father was on his deathbed, he had taken great delight in telling her that she would inherit nothing. He had then confessed that her baby hadn’t been stillborn after all, that she had lived, and he’d abandoned her on the steps of an orphanage. Her baby had been found clutching a tiny button, and with no other form of identification that was how she’d been named: Pearl Button, though of course she was now Pearl Lewis.
Derek laughed at something Pearl said, breaking Emily out of her reverie. She hadn’t been sure about Derek at first. She had heard all about Pearl’s first husband, Kevin Dolby, and Emily feared that as the two men had known each other, Derek would be cut from the same cloth. Thankfully she’d been wrong: Derek was a wonderful man and she’d become very fond of him.
‘Happy birthday, Gran,’ said John as he held out a package.
Emily unwrapped the gift, loving the pretty box of handkerchiefs with lace edging and her initials embroidered in one corner. ‘Thank you, darling. They’re beautiful.’
‘This is from us, Mum.’
In the small box, Emily was thrilled to find a delicate gold chain hung with a pretty pearl locket. ‘I just love it,’ she said, smiling with happiness.
‘Emily, I’m so sorry,’ Tim said softly, obviously embarrassed. ‘I haven’t got you a gift.’
‘It really doesn’t matter,’ she told him, just glad to have him there. She had been friends with Delia, Tim’s late wife, and had always been fond of them both. Tim had been lost when Delia died, but just recently Emily’s platonic friendship with him had slowly begun to develop into something more. Of course he was still grieving and it was far too soon to take things any further, but maybe, in the future … just maybe …
Chapter Four
Derek awoke earlier than usual on Friday. Careful not to wake Pearl, he climbed out of bed, shivering as he threw on his dressing gown before making his way to the kitchen. It was still cold, but perhaps next month they’d see a decent rise in the temperature. He lit the fire, and then placed the kettle on the gas stove, unable to stop his thoughts turning to Kevin Dolby. There had been no news from Bernie about the parole hearing, and with any luck that meant he’d been turned down.
‘I thought I’d be the first one up this morning.’
Derek turned to smile fondly at Emily. ‘We’re both early birds then,’ he said, struck as always by her tiny, birdlike appearance. Some people assumed that Emily was frail, yet although she had angina, she hadn’t had a bad attack for many years. He’d heard all the jokes about mothers-in-law, but none applied to his relationship with Emily. From the day he’d married Pearl and moved in, Emily had given them plenty of space, even using her bedroom as a sort of sitting room too, with a couple of chairs on each side of a small fireplace, along with a radio and television. They’d protested, but Emily insisted that she liked it that way and it meant that she could watch the TV programmes she preferred.
‘I see you’re making a pot of tea,’ Emily said.
‘Yes, it won’t be long now.’
‘I’ll take over if you like,’ she offered.
