Cutting the Cord

  Copyright © 2019 Amanda Bateman

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Matador

  9 Priory Business Park,

  Wistow Road, Kibworth Beauchamp,

  Leicestershire. LE8 0RX

  Tel: 0116 279 2299

  Email: books@troubador.co.uk

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  ISBN 9781838599621

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Matador® is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

  For my wonderful Dad.

  Miss you so much.

  Forever in my heart.

  Always on my mind.

  Contents

  ELSIE Friday, 13th December 1963

  HARRY Saturday, 30th July 1966

  FREDDY Christmas 1969

  FREDDY Summer 1970

  ELSIE

  DEREK

  THE TWINS Saturday, 22nd August 1970

  HARRY & JACK

  BEA Monday, 21st September 1970

  GEORGE

  JANIE & BEA

  ELSIE June 1971

  JACK March 1976

  ANNE April 1976

  ELSIE June 1976

  BEA, HARRY, JANIE & MEGAN August 1976

  DEREK October 1978

  HARRY

  ELSIE November 1978

  TOMMY

  JANIE

  JACK Dec 1978

  JANIE June 1980

  JACK May 1982

  HARRY June 1982

  TOMMY

  DOUGLAS

  DEREK

  ELSIE

  BEA August 1982

  AFTERNOON TEA

  JANIE Christmas Eve 1982

  ELSIE Christmas day 1982

  JACK 29th December 1982

  CHARLIE & GEORGE

  JANIE

  MEGAN 10th January 1983

  JANIE 1st February 1983

  BEA 28th February 1983

  GWEN, MAVIS & JANIE Wednesday, 30th March 1983

  BEA Easter Sunday 1983

  JANIE & HARRY Friday, 22nd April 1983

  GEORGE June 1983

  JOSEF Bangkok, June 1983

  MEGAN & JANIE Sea View Cottage, June 1983

  HARRY September 1983

  ANNE December 1983

  GEORGE & HARRY January 1984

  JANIE March 1984

  CHARLIE March 1984

  ELSIE & HARRY May 1984

  JOSEF July 1984

  JANIE August 1984

  Acknowledgments

  ELSIE

  Friday, 13th December 1963

  Elsie May Arnold opened her front door and ventured out into the snow. With her pregnancy almost at full term she knew she was taking a risk, but Elsie loved a risk and she certainly didn’t like to be told what to do! So, carefully planting each footstep down, she made her way into town. The usual five-minute walk, however, took her fifteen. The snow and ice were more treacherous than she had first thought, and she’d almost ended up on her backside more than once. Finally, she was safe inside McGregor’s, the local shop, which sold everything from eggs and bacon to hammers and nails. Elsie headed straight over to the record section. The Beatles’ latest release was at Number One in the charts and she was desperate to own it. She was just leafing through the singles when a familiar voice called her name.

  “Elsie Arnold, what on earth are you doing in here? You should be home in the warm, not out in this terrible weather in your condition,” Mavis McGregor almost shouted at her as she strode across the shop towards her. Mavis not only owned the shop with her husband, Robert, but was the local midwife. Elsie had hoped she’d be out on her rounds, not helping in the shop today.

  “I needed the fresh air and some time out,” replied Elsie. “The kids have been driving me crazy and Harry’s flat out at the garage so he’s not much help. So, I decided a little walk into town would do me good.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, Elsie, I really do, but this is no weather to be out in your condition. You could easily have fallen and who knows what consequences that would have had!”

  “I know, Mrs McGregor, and I put on my good boots with all the grip despite knowing the snow would ruin them,” replied Elsie. She really wanted to tell the nosy old bat to mind her own business but with the baby due any time she really did need to keep her onside.

  “Well, I guess no harm has been done,” began Mavis McGregor. “You finish your shopping then I’ll walk you back, okay?”

  “Thank you,” Elsie replied. She really didn’t fancy the idea of been escorted home like an errant child but if it shut her up and kept the peace she’d go along with it. Elsie spent several minutes more in the record aisle before heading off to the grocery section. If Mrs McGregor was going to be walking home with her she might as well make good use of her Elsie chuckled to herself. She then proceeded to load her basket with potatoes and tinned goods. Within a few minutes the basket was full and weighing Elsie down. She made her way to the counter, struggling with the laden basket, when a sharp pain shot from the middle of her lower back right round to the front, causing Elsie to drop the basket and fall to her knees clutching at her swollen stomach. Before she managed to catch her breath from the first sharp pain another followed, hot on its heels.

  “Mrs McGregor,” Elsie screamed out. “Mrs McGregor come quick, the baby is on its way.” Elsie screamed out again, as yet another contraction racked through her. This was Elsie’s fourth child and with each birth the labour had become quicker. Freddy, her eldest son, had arrived after ten hours of labour. Anne’s labour had only been half of that and Charlie had arrived within two hours! Odds on, this baby would be born within the hour! Elsie let out a gut-wrenching scream as the urge to push engulfed her.

  “For fuck’s sake, will someone fucking help me?” screamed Elsie. Within seconds, Mrs McGregor, along with her husband, were either side of her, helping her to her feet. Elsie screamed out again as an even more violent contraction shot through her. The latest scream seemed to bring the other customers running to help lift and move this mad woman into the back storeroom before they were greeted with more expletives and ear-shattering screams.

  No sooner had the helpers laid Elsie on the storeroom floor and made a quick exit than Elsie had an even more compelling urge to push and this time she didn’t ignore it. With a hellish scream, Elsie pushed down for all she was worth. The pain was leaving her exhausted, but she had no choice but to summon up every ounce of strength she had and push again. With this last push, out came the baby, straight into the capable arms of Mavis McGregor. Elsie laid her head down on the floor and offered up a silent prayer, asking that the baby would be just l
ike her other children. Meanwhile, Mavis went about her job, cleaning the little one’s airways, delivering the afterbirth and cutting the cord. All the time, Mavis was struck by how milky-white this new little girl’s skin was and what a vivid shade of red her mass of hair was. After all, Elsie was a true blonde and Harry had the blackest hair she’d ever seen. Two of their children had their dad’s colouring, while the other had white blonde hair. But this baby had bright red hair. Maybe those rumours of Elsie playing away from home weren’t rumours after all, thought Mavis. Maybe this little girl was going to be the undoing of Elsie Arnold, she thought. There was only one way to find out, so, wrapping the baby in a towel and making sure that her hair was clearly visible, Mavis, with her back to Elsie, urged her to sit up and prepare to hold her new daughter. Elsie propped herself up against a crate for support and made ready. Mavis turned with the child in her arms, its red hair shining out like a beacon. The look on Elsie’s face confirmed what Mavis had suspected. It was a look of sheer horror. Elsie’s prayers had not been answered. Elsie took the child from Mrs McGregor’s arms and sent up another silent prayer. This time, she prayed that Harry wouldn’t chuck her and her new daughter out in the cold.

  While Elsie cleaned herself up a little, Mavis sent for Harry and then made a pot of tea for them both. Elsie was now sitting in Robert’s armchair in the shop’s back office, breastfeeding the little one. They looked like the perfect picture of a mother and child, but Mavis knew differently. Elsie Arnold was anything but a loving mother. The only person Elsie May Arnold truly loved was herself. Mavis was interrupted from her thoughts by a knock at the back door. Now it was show time! Harry had arrived. Mavis placed her cup on the office desk and stole a quick glance at Elsie as she made her way across the room to open the door. There wasn’t any need to tell Elsie who was knocking on the door, as the look on her face confirmed she’d already guessed. Elsie took a deep breath and braced herself, ready for whatever Harry was about to throw at her.

  Harry strode across the room without uttering a single word to either Mavis or Elsie. The baby had stopped feeding, obviously sensing something was scaring her mother, and began to cry. Immediately, Harry scooped the crying child up into his arms and turned his back on both women to take a good look at the new baby. He instantly saw that his worst fears were being confirmed. He’d hoped against hope that it would turn out to be his baby Elsie had been carrying. But the red locks confirmed it was the mechanic he’d hired at his garage. He’d caught them at it in his storeroom back in the spring. Harry stared down at the crying baby. He began to gently rock her to and fro. Almost instantly the crying stopped, and she was asleep in his arms. Tears that had welled up in Harry’s eyes now openly ran down his face. They fell like raindrops onto the little one’s red hair. Harry took in her milky-white skin and, oh, how beautiful she was. He knew in that instant that, despite her not being his, she had already stolen his heart, just like his own children had, just like Elsie had. He turned back round to look at his wife and Mrs McGregor with tears still in his eyes but a smile on his face.

  “She’s the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen,” he began. “I remember my old grandad talking about a wayward great-aunt of his with hair the colour of fire and a temper to match. Look like she’s made a return,” he chuckled. “I’d like to name her Jane Elizabeth, if that’s okay with you, Elsie? Jane after my favourite actress, Jane Mansfield, and Elizabeth after Good Old Queen Bess the First. She was a strong woman with flaming red hair. What d’ya say?”

  Elsie was so pleased that she wasn’t been thrown out into the cold that she’d have agreed to the baby being called BASTARD if that meant she still had a roof over her head.

  “Jane Elizabeth it is,” she replied. Cradling little Jane Elizabeth in his arms, Harry placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

  “Welcome to the family, Janie,” he said to her, then kissed her once more for luck; he had a feeling they were both going to need it.

  Mavis McGregor didn’t know whether the story about a red-headed great-aunt of Harry’s was true or not but the look of love on his face for both mother and child was as clear as day. She just hoped, for Harry’s sake and little Janie’s, that Elsie realised what a lucky escape she’d had as everyone knew that Elsie Arnold played away from home on a regular basis!

  HARRY

  Saturday, 30th July 1966

  Harry Arnold pulled the big garage door closed and slid the three bolts across to lock it. He didn’t normally close his garage at two o’clock on a Saturday but it was the World Cup final today and England were taking on Germany. The local club had put on food and was playing the match live for all who cared to listen. Harry wasn’t really a football fan, but he’d agreed to go along as it wasn’t every day your country was playing in a World Cup final. He had been quite looking forward to it, but the past two days’ revelations had put paid to that. Last night he’d had to lie to his family about why he was so late home from work and today he was not only going to have to lie to both his family and friends but try to stop the one person he loved most in the world from making the biggest mistake of her life. Harry held his head in his hands. When and why had his life all gone so wrong? Last night he’d come so very close to killing a man. A man he didn’t know. Yet a man who was preparing to take his wife away from him!

  Two days ago, a woman who he’d never seen before had pulled onto his garage forecourt. She’d addressed him by name and asked to speak to him in private. Harry had shown her into his grubby little office and there she had broken his heart. She’d informed him that her husband was planning to run away with his “SLAG” of a wife while everyone was busy cheering the England football team on. Seems she’d been having her “LYING BASTARD” of a husband followed for a few months now. Mrs Sheila Riley, as she called herself, was none too short of a bob or two and had taken it upon herself to employ a private detective on the advice of a well-meaning friend. Bob Spencer, it turned out, had been well worth his fee. Not only had he photographed her husband, Sidney, with this other woman but had even managed to get the table next to them in a small restaurant out in the countryside and eavesdrop on their plan. The cunning Bob Spencer had a microphone inside what looked like a hearing aid, so the loved-up couple had spoken freely, presuming him to be hard of hearing. Sheila Riley finished off the conversation by saying Bob Spencer had found out who the identity of this other woman was. She’d thought it her duty to inform this woman’s unsuspecting husband of what the “DEVIOUS ADULTROUS” pair were up to. She’d also been kind enough to tell him where her “NO GOOD LYING BASTARD” of a husband would be that Friday evening. Then she’d promptly left, leaving Harry a broken man.

  All day Friday, Harry had hummed and aarhed over what to do? Should he confront this Sidney Riley alone? Or should he just wait at the appointed rendezvous and confront them both? Sheila Riley had told him that her husband knew how to handle himself but that didn’t frighten Harry. At six feet four he was no pushover. He lugged tyres around and hauled engines in and out of cars for a living. This meant he was in great physical shape. A lot of people referred to him as ‘the Gentle Giant’ but Harry was no saint. He’d had his fair share of run-ins over the years from people trying to get away with not paying for their fuel or his services. He’d even had to rough up a few of Elsie’s admirers in the past. If he met up with this Sidney Riley things could easily get out of hand! But what was to say that by him turning up at their meeting place they wouldn’t still bugger off together? Harry had finally decided it was best to square up to Mr ‘FUCKING’ Riley alone and make him see the error of his ways one way or the other. So, last night, Harry had gone to the local park where Mrs Riley had told him her husband would be. Apparently, Sidney Riley took a walk around the park’s duck pond every Friday night at 6:30pm sharp. It was all part of his Friday night ritual. After arriving home from work, he’d eat his tea, take a bath, then take a quick walk around the duck pond before rounding the evening off with a game of do
minoes in the nearby pub with his father. In the three months Bob Spencer had followed Mr Riley this routine hadn’t changed so there was no reason why tonight would be any different. And last night had been no different. Except of course he’d been accosted by Harry!

  Sidney Riley hadn’t realised who Harry was until he’d been yanked off the well-trodden path around the duck pond, bundled into the woods and slammed hard up against an oak tree. He’d never seen a photo of Harry Arnold or met him before but by the look of sheer anger on this man’s face it wasn’t hard to guess who he was. Sidney had been rumbled, but by whom? Within five minutes he knew the answer! Sheila! Well, he had decided he wasn’t going down without a fight. That was his first mistake! The second came after his nose had been broken when he’d told Harry that this wasn’t going to stop him and Elsie from being together! He didn’t make a third! With several broken bones and a warning to stay away from Elsie if he valued his life, Sidney Riley had conceded defeat. NO woman was worth losing your life over. Harry rubbed his sore knuckles. They were grazed and swollen on both hands, but his explanation had been easy and so had the lie he’d told. Too easy. He’d said he’d done it trying to get an engine back into a motor. Hence why his knuckles were a mess and he was late. Now as his two sons approached the garage forecourt he was about to lie again, and he hated himself for it, but he hated the thought of Elsie leaving him and the kids more.

  “Dad, come on,” shouted Charlie as he raced over to his dad. “We don’t want to be late for kick-off, do we?”

  “It’s not for another fifty minutes, Shorty,” Freddy remarked.

  “I know,” began Charlie, “but they’re handing out sweets to the kids before kick-off, I don’t want them to be all gone before we get there.”

  “In that case, you’ll have to go on ahead of me, son. I’ve gotta pop home and change me shoes. Forgot to bring them with me and I don’t want to be wearing these oily old boots in Arthur’s Club, do I? He’d string me up if I got oil over his floor.”