thank you.’
Dangling from her hand was a silver locket she’d withdrawn from a velvet lined box. ‘I’m glad you like it,’ Claire said. ‘I had it inscribed.’
Janet turned the locket over. Written on the back was: ‘To Janet, with love from Claire Wentworth, 1947.’
‘Thank you,’ Janet said again.
Claire was glad Janet liked the gift, because she’d argued with David over it.
‘You can’t give a present to just one child,’ he’d maintained.
‘Janet has become like a friend to me.’
‘Even so,’ David insisted, ‘you’re making too much of her.’
‘It’s a gift for her birthday, that’s all.’
‘You’re giving her an exaggerated view of her own importance.’
‘I am not,’ Claire retorted. ‘Surely you’re making too much of this?’
‘No, I don’t think I am,’ David said. ‘I don’t think you’re fully aware what you’re doing, buying expensive presents for …’
He got no further. He’d failed to see the anger sparking in Claire’s eyes and the two spots of colour in her cheeks. But he couldn’t mistake the ice in her tone as she said:
‘What I do with my own money is my affair. I don’t need your permission or approval. I think you’d better go now!’
She watched as he turned on his heel and left without another word, and then she took the locket to town and in a spirit of recklessness had it inscribed. It was almost worth the row to see the joy in Janet’s face, though she’d spent a miserable day waiting for David to come back. She longed to make the first move herself but a stand had to be made somewhere.
There was still no sign of Bert, and the twins were becoming restless and Linda fretful, so they decided to make a start on the buffet laid out on the table. Claire Wentworth was pressed to stay and Janet was over the moon with happiness to have all her family and Miss Wentworth together for her birthday.
They’d almost finished eating when Bert arrived. It was obvious from his demeanour that he’d called into the pub on the way home. ‘How could you, Bert?’ Betty cried. ‘On our Janet’s birthday.’
Bert looked round the company: his affronted wife, his mother-in-law with her accusing eyes and clamped mouth, his father-in-law’s calm gaze and Breda’s eyes flashing in temper. He could see that Peter, Brendan and Patsy were embarrassed, and there was a young woman he’d never seen before. Janet was flushed red. She was mortified at the possibility of a scene in front of Miss Wentworth.
Bert knew he was in the wrong, so he blustered and became angry. ‘What’s the matter? It’s a party, isn’t it? I had to get the man a drink, didn’t I?’
‘One drink?’ Betty asked sarcastically.
‘We got talking, it isn’t a crime,’ Bert said. He winked at Janet. ‘Happy birthday, pet. Come on outside, I’ve got a surprise for you.’
They all trooped into the front garden, and what Janet saw took away all the irritation she’d felt at her father’s late arrival, for leaning against the house was a blue bicycle.
Janet couldn’t believe her eyes.
‘It isn’t new,’ her father said. ‘Some chap at work bought it for his wife a year or two back, but she never took to it and I asked him if I could buy it.’
‘Oh,’ Janet breathed, ‘I can’t believe it.’ She could see the bike was hardly used. Even the tyres were fairly clean and unworn, and the chrome was shiny silver. It had a basket in front and a carrier behind, and it was the loveliest thing Janet had ever seen.
In the midst of her happiness and excitement, Janet saw Duncan detach himself from the admiring crowd and slope off to the back garden. Later, after she’d thanked her parents and said that she couldn’t believe how lucky she was, she took her bike round to the garden shed at the back and found him there.
Duncan had never had a bike – there’d never been money for those kind of things – and Janet felt almost ashamed that now she had one and her brother hadn’t.
‘You can ride it any time you want, Duncan,’ she said.
‘A lady’s bike!’ Duncan exclaimed scathingly. ‘Are you kidding? I wouldn’t be seen dead on it. Don’t you worry about me, I’ll be earning in just over a year and I’ll get my own bike if I want one, only mine will be new.’
‘I’m … sorry.’
Duncan didn’t answer, and after a while Janet went back inside. Claire Wentworth was leaving and her father, obviously forgiven, was eating the leftovers from the table. ‘We didn’t cut the cake,’ Gran said. ‘Miss Wentworth, you can’t go without a piece of cake.’
‘We didn’t light the candles or sing “Happy Birthday” either,’ Betty said. ‘We were just going to, if you remember, when Bert arrived.’
‘Let’s do it now.’
When the candles were all lit, there was a rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ which was enthusiastic and noisy rather than tuneful. And then Breda was saying: ‘Blow them out with one blow and you can have a wish.’
Janet took a deep breath. She knew it was stupid and childish, but she really felt that if she blew the candles out in one blow, it would be a perfect end to a perfect day.
The candles were out and around her they were crying, ‘Make a wish! Make a wish!’ Janet’s eyes met those of Miss Wentworth and she closed them tight. There was only one thing to wish for; she knew it and Miss Wentworth knew it.
I wish, she thought, I wish with all my heart that I’ve passed the exam to Whytecliff High School.
When Janet got up the morning after her birthday and saw the brown envelope on the mat, she stopped stock still for a minute and looked at it. Then Duncan was at her elbow.
‘Go on then,’ he said. ‘Isn’t that what you’ve been working for?’
‘I’m scared,’ Janet said. ‘Oh, Duncan, what if I’ve failed?’
Duncan shrugged. ‘What if you have? It isn’t the end of the world, is it?’
‘Isn’t it?’ Janet said with feeling. ‘It might be for me. Look at the stuff I got yesterday. Apart from the watch, the locket and the bike, they were all for using at the grammar school.’
‘Talk sense, Jan,’ Duncan said irritably. ‘You’d use a pen and the stuff the twins got you whatever school you went to. Even the geometry set. It’s best for you to have your own stuff wherever you go.’
‘At grammar school maybe,
