A Perfect Christmas

Chapter SIX


‘Have you got a watch?’

Glen sat bolt upright, still half-asleep but instantly on his guard. He didn’t like waking up to find a stranger close to him. No, not a stranger, he realised belatedly. It was the woman he’d saved in the arches the night before – and now she would not leave him alone.

‘A watch?’ he queried.

His tone of voice left her in no doubt what he thought of her for asking such a stupid question. ‘Well . . . er . . . what I meant was, how do I find out what time it is?’

He glanced out of the shop doorway at the street beyond and answered, ‘It’s about five-thirty.’

Jan stared at him in surprise. ‘How can you possibly know that if you haven’t a watch?’

He gave an irritated sigh. ‘I can just tell, by the morning air and the colour of the sky, which you’ll come to do yourself in time. Now, if you don’t mind, I want to try and snatch . . .’

She interjected, ‘We have to go.’

He looked at her incredulously. ‘Go where? There is nowhere to go at this time in the morning.’

Jan was desperately trying to stretch the stiffness out of her body so she could get up. She was surprised to find that she had slept for as long as she had, considering the circumstances. ‘I told you last night, I know where we can get you cleaned up . . . me too. Look, I haven’t time to explain – we have to get there before six. Come on.’ When she saw he was just looking back at her, befuddled, she urged, ‘Come on . . . What is your name, by the way?’

‘Eh? Oh, Glen. Glen Trainer.’

‘I’m Janet Clayton. Jan. Now come on, Mr Trainer . . . Glen . . . we have to arrive where we’re going before it gets light, and I’ve no idea where we are at the moment so I don’t know how far we have to go.’

Glen was confused as to where on earth she could be taking him.

Jan was standing up by now, peeling the rotting blanket Glen had loaned her from around herself, conscious that its smell had seeped into her clothes and of her own desperate need to freshen herself up. And there was the fact that she was still so cold she needed to move in order to get the blood flowing in her veins again. Handing the blanket to him, she urged, ‘Come on, we really need to be off.’

The conversation they’d had hours before flooded back to him. The woman he now knew to be Janet Clayton had proclaimed that she knew somewhere they could go to smarten themselves up. He was highly intrigued to find out just where the likes of him would be allowed to do that. And besides, he had no clean clothes to change into. But he was wide awake now so he might as well go with her. It didn’t look like she was going to take no for an answer.

Out in the street, once Glen had informed Jan exactly where they were, she hurriedly set off. She took him to the town centre then up the high street, crossing the Grand Union Canal over the Richard III bridge, then on up the Narborough Road. It seemed to them that they were the only ones up and about on this bitterly cold early morning. On and on they seemed to go before Jan finally turned down a palisade terraced street. She stopped for a moment by the entry between two houses, taking a good look round to confirm that they weren’t being observed from behind any closed curtains before she urged Glen to follow her down the entry.

Halfway down in the near pitch dark, Glen reached out to grab her shoulder. ‘If it’s your idea to break into a house, then I won’t be party to that, no matter how desperate for a wash I am. In all the time I’ve been living rough, I’ve never resorted to stealing in any shape or form and I won’t start now.’

Jan was insulted. ‘I’m not about to break in anywhere. I know where there’s a key. In the shock of what happened to me, I’d forgotten about it until we were talking last night about the lack of somewhere to spruce ourselves up. She tapped the wall to the right of her. ‘This is my house. Well, it was until my husband accused me of having a torrid affair and consequently threw me out. The law would probably be on his side and say he’d every right to throw me out in the circumstances, but he’s no right to keep my private possessions from me and I can’t be accused of breaking and entering if I have a key to let myself in, can I? And if I happen to invite in a friend and they choose to bathe while they’re there . . . well, I’d like to see my husband get me slung in jail for that.’

A worried expression crossed her face then. ‘Just pray Harry’s not remembered about the spare key and moved it or that’s us snookered good and proper. Anyway, I wanted to get here before it’s light so that none of the neighbours spots us and tells him. We’ll need to hide in the back yard and be ready to go in as soon as Harry’s gone to work. That gives us a good four hours before he’s due home for his dinner at one. Oh, come on, time’s getting short and we need to hide ourselves before he and the neighbours are up and about.’

The prospect of having soap and water for the first time in an age was hard to resist. Glen followed Jan down the entry as far as the gate. Deftly lifting the latch, she opened the gate just wide enough to slip through, Glen following close behind. Jan hurried across a small slabbed area and on down a short path, one side of which was lawned, the other a vegetable patch, towards a small brick-built shed which stood against the garden wall. The old door was stiff, its wood having swollen in the wet wintry weather, and Jan had to push hard against it, praying that the noise it made didn’t alert anyone. She didn’t wait around to find out but gave Glen a shove on his back to urge him inside then quickly followed behind, shutting the door after them.

She breathed a sigh of relief and whispered, ‘Well, hopefully we managed that without anyone seeing us. Now we just have to wait until we hear Harry setting off for work.’

The shed was full of gardening equipment and discarded house hold items, along with the usual assortment of creepy crawlies and evidence of rodents. None of this bothered Glen as he was used to sharing whatever sleeping quarters he could find with such creatures. Jan, though, wasn’t so thrilled to be in the dark, dank shed, imagining herself covered in spiders and she constantly gave herself a pat down to remove them, whether they were there or not. The time seemed to pass very slowly. Eventually they heard the welcome noise of the back door opening and closing, then the clomp of hob-nailed boots across the slabs heading for the gate, the latch being lifted then shot back into place moments later.

Jan let several minutes pass to be on the safe side, just in case Harry had forgotten something and returned, before she crept her way over to the shed door. She ran her fingers above the lintel until she felt what she’d hoped to find. ‘I’ve got it!’ she whispered triumphantly. She peeped out to check all was clear. ‘Come on,’ she urged Glen.

Jan took him into a small kitchen, relocking the door after them then drawing the curtains shut before she put on the light. She looked around critically. The kitchen looked immaculate, not a thing out of place. ‘Well, for someone who’s done the washing up barely a dozen times in all the years we’ve been married, Harry seems to be managing well enough without me,’ she observed.

Meanwhile Glen was feeling awkward to be inside a house for the first time in over fifteen years. It felt a mite claustrophobic to be enclosed once more by four walls. He knew, though, that it wouldn’t take him long to shake off these feelings and get used to living in such security again.

While he was lost in his own thoughts, Jan was doing her best to shake off a feeling of desolation, reminding herself that she was in this situation because of her own stupid moment of madness, regardless of what had driven her to it. As far as Harry was concerned, she had betrayed him in the worst way she could and she should not blame him for getting on with his life without her in it.

With forced lightness she told Glen, ‘The bathroom is through here. We had the old outside toilet and shed converted into one five years ago. I’ll show you how to work the geyser then leave you in peace to have your soak. Oh, look in the cabinet on the wall and you’ll find what you need to deal with all that hair on your face.’ She laughed before she added jocularly, ‘I’ll cut that matted mess off your head after you’ve washed out whatever is nesting in it! I’ll get you a sack to put your old clothes in and we’ll leave them in the dustbin when we go.’ She saw the quizzical expression in Glen’s eyes then and knew what he was going to ask. ‘Don’t worry, you won’t be leaving here stark naked. I’m going to sort out some of Harry’s old clothes for you that I know he won’t miss.’

She led Glen through a door at the back of the kitchen and into a long narrow room with white-washed walls. On one side stood a huge cast-iron bath, on the other a sink and toilet. The floor was covered with black-and-white checked lino. There was a gas heater on the wall above the bath. Above the sink was a white medicine cabinet with mirrored doors. After she’d shown him how to operate the geyser, made sure he had fresh towels and that there was plenty of soap, Jan told him, ‘Use as much water as you need. I’ll leave you to it while I pack my belongings, sort you out some clothes and see what I can find us for breakfast. Oh, when I’ve mashed us a cuppa, I’ll knock on the door to let you know it’s outside.’ As she shut the door behind her, she called to him, ‘Enjoy yourself.’

Glen meant to. After turning on the geyser which slowly dispensed scalding hot water into the bath, he wasted no time in stripping off his clothes, layer by layer. It was so long since he’d taken them off that they were almost melded together from sweat and dirt. The last layer stuck to his skin, which smarted as he pulled it away. While the bath was still filling he thought he’d tackle his facial hair. Standing before the misted mirrored cabinet on the wall above the sink, he opened it and took out the items he’d need.

He closed the cabinet doors then wiped a hand over the glass to clear off the mist. On catching sight of the image that stared back at him, he jumped back in shock. He hadn’t seen a reflection of himself for many years, purposely avoiding doing so, not wanting to be reminded how low he’d been brought. Of course he’d had an idea he looked bad, but had never thought he’d look quite so grotesque and frightening. No wonder children had cowered in terror behind their mothers’ skirts when he had come into view. Blackbeard the notorious pirate would have looked like an angel compared to him if they’d been put side by side. It struck him then that he couldn’t even remember what he looked like without a mass of hair and years of grime on his face. Of course, during the many years since he had last seen himself clean-shaven he would have aged; the harshness of the life he was living would have told on him and the lack of proper nourishment drastically affected his weight. He would have to prepare himself for the fact that he might not even recognise himself once he’d finished his ablutions. He picked up the pair of scissors he’d found in the cabinet and set about his task.

Upstairs, Jan was trying to dismiss memories of happier times in this house to the back of her mind as she prepared to pack her clothes and personal possessions. To her shock and dismay, however, she had opened the wardrobe to find empty hangers where her clothes used to hang, and then discovered that the dressing table had been stripped of all the personal items which had cluttered the surface and filled the drawers. Any shred of hope she might still have harboured for a reconciliation evaporated then. She had only been gone a matter of days and already there was no visible sign that she had ever lived here at all. She knew that her indiscretion had caused her husband hurt, but for him to have removed all visible reminders of her so soon cut her deeply. The kind and compassionate man she had married had changed out of all recognition since he had become embroiled with the church and that conniving vicar had got his claws into him. She shut the wardrobe door. She wasn’t worried about how she was going to afford to kit herself out with some new clothes, or replace her personal items, or put a roof over her head for the time being until she found a job; she knew exactly how she was going to do that, and to hell with what the vicar or Harry made of it when it came to light what she’d done.

Having sorted out a set of clothes for Glen, she made her way back downstairs, laid them on the floor outside the bathroom, knocking on the door to let Glen know they were there, then went into the kitchen to mash a pot of tea for them both and see what she could find for breakfast.

A short while later, sipping the cup of tea Jan had made him, Glen was revelling in the luxury of feeling hot water lapping gently over him. This was the third change of water, and albeit it was murky it was nowhere near the colour of a muddy puddle as the first lot had been. That had had a thick layer of scum floating on top, which he’d had to scrub away from the sides of the bath before he could refill it. After he had shorn his thick growth of beard close enough for him to shave, he set about removing the rest with a cut-throat razor. He had prepared himself to see a stranger looking back at him from the mirror but he hadn’t expected to see someone quite so gaunt with skin the colour of putty, or such deep grooves around his nose, cheeks and eyes where none had been before. If he hadn’t known who it was staring out of the mirror, he would never have recognised himself. Between the next change of water he had tackled his mass of hair, shearing it off his head in big chunks, leaving enough hopefully for Jan to shape into a short back and sides. Seeing his reflection when he had done this was another shock and he kept having to remind himself that it really was him.

As he lazed now in what felt like the lap of luxury, aware that he should really vacate the bathroom in order to give his hostess time to use the facilities before they had to leave, the sound of a loud knock on the back door reached his ears. He sat bolt upright, the action causing a wave of water to slop over the sides and on to the linoleum. His heart was thumping madly. Had Jan’s husband come back for some reason, having to knock on the door as she had locked it after them? Jan might have a right to be here but Glen wasn’t sure where he himself stood. Fear engulfed him that he could be charged with trespass and be facing jail again.

Jan had been frying sausages, about to add the couple of rashers of bacon she had found in the pantry to the pan, when she heard the sound of a key being tried in the back door lock and spun round to stare at it, automatically thinking it was her husband trying to get in. She had told Glen that she had every right to enter the house as she was still technically married to the owner, but in all truth she didn’t actually have a clue where she stood legally. Her mind in turmoil, she had no idea what to do. Open the door or stay as quiet as a mouse, hoping Harry would go off to get a locksmith and give Glen and her time to make a hurried escape?

Then she heard a female voice calling out to Harry to let her in. Jan frowned, puzzled. Who was this woman who was familiar enough to be calling him by his Christian name and expecting to be let into the house? Had he recovered from the ending of their marriage so quickly that he had already replaced her with someone else? Then Jan heard the voice again, calling out, ‘Are you all right, Harry? I know you’re in, I can smell cooking. Are you feeling down because of what happened with your wife? Do you want me to fetch the Reverend to come and talk to you?’

Jan bristled then. So this was a member of the congregation, wasting no time in ingratiating herself with Harry. Saw herself as the next Mrs Clayton, did she? Well, Jan was going to put a spanner in the works!

She unlocked the door, opened it and addressed the woman with a brusque, ‘What can I do for you?’

The visitor was roughly in her late-fifties. Hanging down below her coat Jan could see the bottom of a wrap-around apron. Her greying hair was scraped under a scarf tied turban-style. She eyed Jan in amazement and demanded, ‘Who are you?’

Jan stiffened and responded indignantly, ‘It’s you who should be telling me who you are, being’s it’s my door you’re calling at.’

The woman looked shocked. ‘Your door! Oh . . . so you’re Mr Clayton’s wife. But what are you doing here?’ She sneered at Jan in disgust. ‘I understood he had turned you out because he caught you fornicating with another man in his bed.’

Jan was very conscious that she was still wearing the clothes she’d been in the last few days and hoped the other woman wasn’t standing close enough to notice. She appraised her visitor, looking her up and down. ‘You don’t look like a woman who believes everything she hears. It was all a misunderstanding that has now been resolved.’

The other woman exclaimed, ‘Oh, I see.’ She looked most put out. ‘But Harry didn’t mention he wouldn’t be needing our help any more last night at the Church Council meeting.’

She should have known that the do-gooding widows or spinsters among the congregation would have been fussing and faffing over Harry as soon as they caught wind of his misfortune, thought Jan. She planted a smile on her face. ‘Well, you have my deepest thanks for looking after him so well while I’ve been away.’

‘And seeing to any washing he needed doing, and cooking his evening meal ready for him to warm up when he came in from work,’ the other woman told her.

Jan thought that the vicar was as cunning as a fox. Why would Harry need to take his heathen wife back when all his housekeeping was being taken care of so conveniently? No fear then of him disentangling himself from the church, and the vicar losing one of his valued followers. ‘Well, thank you for that too,’ Jan said stiffly. ‘You will excuse me, won’t you? I was just making my breakfast and I risk burning it.’

‘Oh, yes, of course. I’ll be seeing you again tonight then, Mrs Clayton, when I attend the Bible class here with the others.’

I shouldn’t count on it, thought Jan as she shut the door and locked it again afterwards.

She turned to make her way over to the stove, hoping the contents hadn’t spoiled during the time she had been distracted. She meant to knock on the bathroom door and tell Glen to hurry up when out of the corner of her eye she spotted a movement and spun her head to see a strange man standing outside the bathroom door. He looked jumpy and extremely worried. It took her several moments to realise the stranger could only be Glen. What she saw was a hollow-cheeked, pale-skinned man in his early-fifties, though he could be younger given the harshness of the life he had been leading for the last few years. But then, a few home-cooked dinners would soon put some meat on his bones and fill out his cheeks. To her surprise, Jan thought him even now to be quite a handsome man. Out of his ragged dirty clothes and dressed in clean ones, and once she had tidied his shorn-off hair, she wouldn’t be at all embarrassed to be seen out in public with him.

‘My God,’ she exclaimed, ‘what a transformation! If I didn’t know it was you, I would never think for a minute you were the same man who went into the bathroom a while ago.’

Glen had never been at all vain but after so many years of being shunned by normal society as a misfit, it was good to receive a well-meant compliment. But of more significance were the possible repercussions of the visit to the house. ‘Was that caller I heard something to be worried about?’ he asked.

Jan shook her head. ‘Not at all. Just a woman from the church who’s been doing for my husband now he’s seemingly helpless with no wife looking after him. I think it’s wise we get going, though, before we tempt fate. Do you mind finishing the breakfast? Give the bacon a fry with the sausages, then put them in slices of bread. That you’ll find in the pantry, in the bread bin. Behind the curtain under the sink you’ll find a couple of brown paper bags that you can put the sandwiches in. We’ll eat them in the park. Meanwhile I’ll clean up the bathroom after you then take a quick bath myself, and we’ll be off.’

He told her, ‘I’ve already cleaned up after me. I used the tin of scouring powder and the scrubbing brush that was behind the toilet.’ He didn’t tell her that he’d also used the scrubbing brush to help scrub some of the more stubborn dirt from himself, which had hurt like hell. His skin was still tingling.

Jan looked at him, most impressed, that he didn’t seem to think all housework was automatically women’s work.

A while later, Glen and Jan were sheltering from the icy winter wind under a covered bench area in the Imperial Avenue Park, about a quarter of a mile away from where Jan had once lived. Having finished their meal, they sat back and sighed in satisfaction. Only sandwiches washed down with water from an empty lemonade bottle Jan had found and filled from the tap before they left, but for Glen the best food he’d had for an age, and Jan in days.

Glen’s thoughts were racing. He was now in a presentable state, but without the means to keep up his appearance it wouldn’t take more than a couple of days for him to start deteriorating again. He ought to make the most of it now, before it was too late. See if he could land himself a casual job that paid on a daily basis. It didn’t matter to him how menial the work was, it would at least get him on the ladder to improving his position in life, a chance he’d never thought to have again. With a bit of money in his pocket, he could afford to live in a hostel and hopefully find some more to purchase a change of clothes. Then he’d be able to wash and keep his clothes in a reasonable state until he saved up enough to get himself some permanent accommodation and from there a permanent job. Then he would start searching for his daughter. It seemed that the saying ‘one good turn deserves another’ was very apt in this case. He had come to Jan’s rescue and she had repaid him by giving him a chance to improve his lot. A feeling he hadn’t experienced for over two decades buoyed him up. It was one of hope.

Before he could thank Jan for what she’d done for him, wish her the best and take his leave, she said, ‘Right, we’ve a lot to do, so we’d better be off.’

He looked at her, bemused. ‘What do you mean?’

She looked back at him, equally bemused. ‘You want to try and get your business back from that thieving ex-wife of yours, don’t you, and find your daughter?’

He pulled a doubtful face. ‘I told you last night that I don’t see there’s any chance of getting my business back as I signed everything over to Nerys, but I do want to find my daughter.’

‘“Never say never” was a saying of my old gran’s. Another of her sayings was “Two heads are better than one”. And once we put our heads together, you never know what we might come up with as a way to get back what’s rightfully yours. Don’t concede defeat until we’ve at least had a go. Now come on, we have to find ourselves somewhere to live before we can do anything else.’

He looked at her, confused. ‘But we’ve no money between us and . . .’

A wide grin spread over Jan’s face as she told him, ‘Oh, yes, we have.’

‘But how? I mean . . .’

There was a note of pride in her voice when she told him, ‘While you were in the bath I emptied the pot Harry keeps money in to give to the church. I can also pawn my wedding and engagement rings, which should bring us another few quid. And before you start saying I’d no right to help myself to Harry’s church money, that money is intended for use in helping the poor unfortunates of this parish . . . and you can’t deny that we’re about as poor and unfortunate as you can get.’

Glen couldn’t argue with that. His thoughts whirled. He felt a certain amount of guilt at being the beneficiary of funds gained in this way. But if he let slip this opportunity to improve his life so drastically, there was no telling when, if ever, another would come along.

He realised Jan was nudging him in the side and turned and said, ‘Pardon, did you say something?’ He then noticed she was holding something in her hand, expecting him to take it. He looked at it in surprise. It was two pound notes.

‘A man needs some money in his pocket. If you feel guilty for taking it, knowing where it comes from, you could always make a donation to the church poor box when you’re in funds. Now are you coming or what? We’ve a lot to do today because I don’t intend to spend another night staring up at the stars or huddling in a flea-ridden lodging house.’

Glen accepted the money and smiled at her, saying, ‘I’m coming.’