Secrets to Keep - By Lynda Page Page 0,26

at her own mother’s wake. Evenly she said, ‘Do excuse me, Mrs Nelson, but I need to thank people for coming.’

As Aidy was walking away from her she heard Pat say to another mourner: ‘You off? Oh, ’course, husband’s dinner to get. Well, I must be off meself as soon as I’ve finished me food. Packing to do…’

Aidy frowned thoughtfully. Had her in-laws come into money somehow that they could afford a holiday? Pat’s part-time job as a lavatory attendant didn’t pay much and she was always pleading poverty, hoping to make people feel sorry for her and offer her a handout, which she always snatched before their mind was changed. Her lazy husband hadn’t had a paid job for years, due to his supposedly having a bad back from a fall at work, but that didn’t seem to stop him from getting to the pub and back or from operating his side line, dealing in scrap metal. Much to their wives’ chagrin, the three Nelson sons each handed over a pound a week between them to their parents, even though they could not really afford to do so, but at least it ensured Pat and Jim’s rent was paid, with a little left over so they didn’t end up having to live with any of their offspring. Aidy wondered now if Arch or his two brothers knew of their parents’ windfall.

She felt a hand grab her arm. It was Bertha’s. ‘I was just making my way over to rescue you since it was obvious to me that whatever Pat Nelson was saying to you, it was annoying you.’

Aidy sighed. ‘Gran, the only complaint she hasn’t got about the arrangements we made for Mam’s funeral is that Arch was chief pall-bearer.’ Through the crowd she spotted Arch’s father knocking back a pint next to the table holding the barrel and bottles of sherry. ‘I know for a fact that’s Jim’s fifth. I hope he’s going to have the decency to leave some of the beer for the other men. Anyway, we haven’t to put up with either of them much longer. They’re leaving soon, to do their packing.’

Bertha frowned, bemused. ‘Packing?’

Aidy shrugged. ‘I overheard Pat telling Maud Gates – I can only think to go on holiday. God knows where they got the money from. Mr Nelson must have come up trumps on a bet, that’s all I can think of.’

Bertha scowled. ‘I don’t suppose it entered their heads that their family could use some of their good fortune, by way of repayment for what those lads have given them over the years,’ she said scathingly. ‘Still, look on the bright side, ducky. With them away, it gives you a rest from them coming around cadging whatever they can off you.’

Aidy smiled. ‘And I’ll welcome that. Have you seen the kids, Gran?’

‘It’s after four so school’s finished. I expect they’re all off playing with their friends. Best thing for ’em. Marion caught me in the kitchen a bit ago. Seems her friend Elsie has lent Marion her best doll until her mam wakes up from her sleep, comes home and gives her Janet back.’

Tears glinted in Aidy’s eyes. ‘Oh, Gran, I don’t know how she’s going to take it when she finally realises Mam is never going to wake up.’

Bertha patted Aidy’s hand. ‘We’ll be here, lovey. Me and you together will see her through.’

Aidy flashed her a wan smile. ‘That was so thoughtful of Elsie, giving Marion her doll.’

Bertha chuckled. ‘The same Elsie that thumped her last week ’cos Marion wouldn’t share her Sat’day penny sweets with her ’cos Elsie wouldn’t share hers with her … or summat like that anyway. I wouldn’t be surprised if the doll’s back with Elsie at bedtime, the way those two fall in and out with each other on a daily basis.’

To Aidy’s surprise, Bertha then stepped behind her, seeming to be using her for cover, and Aidy spun round to ask, ‘What are you doing, Gran?’

‘Hiding from Ivy Ibbotson. Can you believe that today of all days she’s badgering me to mix her up a potion, to help draw a nasty boil she’s got on her backside?’

‘Oh. I wondered why she wouldn’t sit down when I offered her a seat a while back.’

Bertha grinned wickedly. ‘Well, now yer know why. But some people have no respect, have they? If she doesn’t stop pestering me, I’ll mix her up summat that’ll make the boil grow twice as big! Ah, good, Nell Wright has

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