A Daughter's Disgrace by Kitty Neale Page A

that’s on offer with one of those. We said end of March, didn’t we?’
    â€˜I won’t even need that,’ said Paul confidently. He didn’t intend to wait much longer. If she was as keen as she seemed he wanted to take full advantage of it.
    â€˜Are you coming down the pub, Nev?’
    Neville was so tired he was swaying on his feet. It was eight o’clock and after working all weekend, he’d just done more overtime. Now all he wanted to do was to get home, eat his dinner and then collapse into bed.
    â€˜No, not this time,’ he said. ‘Mum always does a stew on Mondays and she’ll be keeping it warm for me.’
    â€˜Seeing the lovely Hazel after, are we?’ asked Bill. ‘Maybe taking her down the Granada?’
    â€˜Nah, staying in,’ said Neville, smiling weakly. They hadn’t been to the cinema for weeks. He knew he had to keep saving to come anywhere close to meeting Hazel’s high hopes.
    â€˜Time enough for staying in when you’ve settled down,’ Bill teased him. ‘You know what they say, all work and no play …’
    â€˜Makes Neville under the thumb already,’ Nobby cut in.
    â€˜Leave it out, Nobby,’ said Neville, irritated. ‘It’s Monday night for God’s sake.’
    â€˜Yes but when was the last time you came down the pub on a Friday?’ Nobby asked. ‘See what I mean? Dull boy, Neville. Don’t you go letting them women tell you what to do. Once they realise they can get away with that, there’s no stopping them. You have to be firm from the beginning. Show them who’s boss.’
    As if you’d know, thought Neville. The only women Nobby went near were on the pages of the smutty magazines he kept in his locker. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, lads,’ he said. ‘But I don’t miss Mum’s stew for nothing. If you can’t keep your mum happy then what’s the point?’
    â€˜True,’ said Bill. ‘Off you go, then. But maybe come with us on Friday or you’ll never hear the end of it.’
    â€˜Good idea,’ said Neville, and headed for the factory gates. He missed going down the pub with his mates. It wouldn’t hurt to join them at the end of the week. He never said he would give them up completely and he was sure Hazel wouldn’t begrudge him one night off. All she wanted was for him to be happy.

Chapter Ten
    Over a week had passed, and on Tuesday morning Cora pondered Jill’s ideas as she sat behind the newsagent’s counter. She’d been impressed by the level of planning her neighbour had suggested and was almost reassured they could afford it all. As long as everyone kept their jobs and nobody did anything stupid they should be all right and Hazel could have her big day almost exactly as she wanted it – although the wedding dress would have to be home-made. Jill turned out to be good at dressmaking as well, for which Cora was grateful. She could do it if she had to but her hands were so stiff and painful, any kind of sewing soon became agony. Jill had a Singer sewing machine. So that was sorted out.
    Cora had volunteered to have a word with the local vicar as she knew him best. Hazel had been christened at his church but wasn’t exactly a regular member of the congregation, especially as Sunday was now her only day off. Cora went every now and again, more for the social side than anything else; it was a sure way of seeing people who didn’t come to the shop. As long as it wasn’t too cold and wet everyone would gather in the churchyard after the service, exchanging small talk, and Cora often picked up snippets that were invaluable. Thanks to one overheard conversation, she already had a good idea of what the going rate for the church hall was, and didn’t intend to be overcharged when the time came.
    She looked up as Winnie Jewell came in. ‘Morning, Winnie.’
    â€˜Morning, Cora.’