Happiness for Hazel Read online

  “Glenn Bradshaw asked me to walk out with him!” Hazel still couldn’t believe what she’d heard. “The nerve of him! In front of all the customers like that! What sort of girl does he think I am?”

  “One who deserves to be asked out by a good-looking young man, by the sound of it.” Cynthia’s rosy cheeks dimpled as she grinned widely. “Though, I’d be wary of getting too close to Bertie Bradshaw’s son, no matter how handsome he might be. That family don’t have the best reputation.”

  “What do you mean?” Hazel asked.

  Cynthia sighed. “It’s a long story and them fish and chips won’t be worth eating if you don’t take ‘em out now!”

  Hazel hurried away with the plates, but her mind was in a spin. The young man wanted to walk out with her. No lad had asked her before, but he wasn’t a lad. He was a man. A very handsome man too, with a lovely voice to match. She delivered the food and glanced at his table. Glenn Bradshaw was staring at her, and she felt the heat creep into her cheeks.

  “You could do worse, lass!” Mr Brown patted her arm as she passed his table. “He’d be a catch and no doubt about it!”

  Hazel glanced again at the handsome young man before turning her attention back to the customer. “I’ll get your bacon and eggs now, Mr Brown.” She hurried back to the kitchen, wondering how she would get through the rest of the dinnertime rush when everyone was talking about her.

  Chapter 2 – Family History

  Hazel couldn’t get Glenn Bradshaw out of her mind. Days passed, then days became two weeks, but he still hadn’t returned to the café. She confided in Eunice. The girls told each other everything. There were no secrets between them.

  Eunice was her best friend, and they’d known each other since birth having been born across the street from each other. Their parents were friends, and it was inevitable the children became friends too. They grew as close as twins and shared every experience life threw at them. From being nervous five-year-olds on their first day at the infant school to when they had to make their way into the working world a few years later.

  They made an incongruous pair. Hazel was tall and skinny with strawberry blonde hair and golden brown eyes. She knew she was a pretty child. She got many compliments as she was growing up. Poor Eunice, on the other hand, was small and squat with dull brown hair and pale blue eyes. Her complexion was prone to spots and blemishes, even as a small child, but if anyone made unkind comments about Eunice, Hazel was fiercely protective of her friend. Eunice was the kindest, most thoughtful person she knew, and she had a remarkable sense of humour. She often boasted she could make a priest laugh at a funeral and Hazel didn’t doubt it.

  On Sunday, after church, the two girls walked down the street together, heads close, giggling.

  “Did you really feel a quiver in your tummy when he looked at you?” Eunice asked.

  Hazel nodded.

  “Didn’t you think you might want to be sick? That’s what a quivery belly does to me!”

  “No, silly!” Hazel tried to explain. “This was a different kind of quivery feeling. It was more like pins and needles all over; only it felt nice!”

  “Oh, my goodness!” Eunice laughed. “I hope I don’t ever meet a man who makes me feel like that. Sounds as if he’s given you a deadly disease.”

  Hazel laughed and clutched her sides. “Oh, my, Eunice. You are a one!”

  “What are you two laughing at?” Eunice’s older brother asked from behind them.

  “None of your business, Raymond,” Eunice called over her shoulder. “You shouldn’t be eavesdropping on our private conversations.”

  “Can’t help it, love. You’re both laughing fit to bust a gut!”

  Hazel turned to smile at her friend’s brother. She’d always liked him. He was two years older than she and Eunice. Raymond was a gentle soul who had inherited his mother’s clear skin and dark eyes. His pale blond hair made a sharp contrast with the rest of the family and Eunice often said she wished she could swap her dull brown hair for his.

  “If you must know, Hazel has an admirer!” Eunice boasted, breaking Hazel’s train of thought.

  “I’m surprised she only has one!” Raymond gibed, smiling. “I’d be first in the queue if I thought I’d stand a chance with our Hazel.”

  “Oh, go on with you!” Hazel’s face flushed, despite the cold wind on her cheeks. “I couldn’t think of you as a sweetheart, Ray. You’re too much like the big brother I never had”

  The older boy’s face clouded for a second, but he grinned warmly. “What do your mam and dad think about your gentleman friend?” he taunted gently.

  “You don’t think she’s daft enough to tell them, do you?” Eunice linked her arm through Hazel’s, pulling her close to whisper. “Your dad would have a fit!”

  Hazel giggled. “Mam too. They think I’m too young to be interested in lads.”

  “Eighteen isn’t too young.” Raymond caught up to walk next to Hazel. “I heard your mam and dad were about your age when they first met.”

  “Were they?” Hazel was surprised. “They didn’t get married until Mam was twenty-two, though, so I thought, well…” she paused and realised she didn’t know very much about her parent’s younger days. She shrugged. “Well, to tell the truth, I don’t think I ever gave it much thought at all.”

  “Dad said your mam was a real looker in her youth and could have had her pick of any man. She and our mam had lots of fellas asking to walk out with them, so he said.”

  “Did our dad really say that, Ray?” Eunice asked quietly, looking behind her to the group of parents and younger children making their way down from the church. Her three younger brothers were bringing up the rear with Norman, Hazel’s younger brother, his paler hair making him noticeable in the group of dark-haired boys.

  When Hazel reached her front door, she paused, standing outside, waiting for the older generation and younger children to catch up. She shivered and pulled her coat more tightly around her as she watched her mother walking toward them slowly.

  Martha Harris was talking with her Aunty Audrey. The families were close and had always called each others’ parents aunty and uncle. The adults spent a lot of time together, and consequently, the children grew up as one big family, although living in separate houses.

  Hazel saw the two older women through fresh eyes after what Raymond had just said about them. She had to admit; the two women were still quite attractive. Her mother was tall and slim, but her hair had more grey than blonde now. She covered it with a scarf more often than not, as if she were ashamed of getting older and tried to hide the evidence. Her eyes looked tired, but when she smiled, they still sparkled, especially when she smiled at Hazel’s father.

  She knew her parents shared a strong bond and Hazel had always felt they had something very special between them. Their kind of happiness was rare, and she hoped one day to find the same kind of loving relationship. One where her sweetheart would always put her needs first, and where she would want to do the same for him. That’s the kind of love she witnessed every day in her house, but she knew it wasn’t the same for everybody. Living as she did on a narrow street lined on each side with terraced houses didn’t give much privacy for the residents. Any rows could be heard three doors away, and news of family upset travelled fast.

  Audrey and Larry Simpson didn’t argue often, but the whole street knew about it when they did. Audrey would always come over to cry on Martha’s shoulder after a row, and Hazel’s dad would usually take Larry to the pub. A few hours later, everything would calm down, and it would be as if the argument had never happened. Hazel understood that her parents were the peacemakers. They couldn’t bear to see their friends unhappy.

  The adults had paused on their way down the street to talk with some other neighbours. The boys had started a game of tag-chase and were racing up and down the cobbles, shouting and screeching at each other. It was a typical Sunday morning.

  Hazel watched Eunice’s mam as her head bobbed while she list
ened to the neighbours. She had salt and pepper hair where the grey was gradually taking over her abundant chestnut waves. Audrey didn’t seem to care about ageing. She had her hair neatly pinned up and always wore lipstick and rouge, even when she was cleaning the front step.

  Raymond was talking again, and Hazel turned her attention to the striking looking young man who she’d always thought of as a brother.

  “Aye, dad said our mam and yours were rivals for years until they settled down, after the last war, and then they became good friends.”

  “I thought they’d always been best friends!” Eunice looked surprised.

  Raymond shook his head. “That’s not how dad remembers things.”

  “Shush, they’ll hear us gossiping about them!” Hazel warned. She was intrigued and longed to hear more but knew the two families would soon move closer and then go their separate ways as usual.

  Eunice and Raymond both said, “Ta-rah,” to Hazel and walked across the cobbled street to their front door.

  Hazel’s father lifted his hand and called to Eunice’s dad. “See you in five minutes, Larry.”

  “Can I come to the pub with you and Uncle Donald, Dad?” Raymond asked. “I’ll stand you both a pint!”

  “He’s got more money than sense, your Ray, hasn’t he?” Hazel’s dad laughed affably.

  “What can I say?” Larry Simpson chuckled as he walked across the road behind his stylish wife. “Generous to a fault, my lad. Will we let him join us, Donald?”

  “If he’s going to be flashing his cash around, I’ll not say no!” Hazel’s dad smiled. “I’ll just get my pipe and be back out in a tick.”

  “Can I stay outside and play with Walter and his brothers?” Norman called to his mother.

  “Stay on the street where we can call you when dinner is ready,” Martha called back.

  Hazel followed her father into the house. The aroma of roasting beef filled her nostrils and made her mouth water. The large joint had been put in the oven before they set out to church earlier. “I’ll check on the meat, Mam.”

  “Good girl!” Martha Harris put her coat on a hook behind the door and took off her headscarf.

  Donald came out of the parlour clutching the bowl of his pipe in the palm of his hand. “I’ll only have the one, Martha. I’ll be back in time to enjoy that delicious roast.” He kissed his wife’s cheek as he passed.

  “Make sure you are home in time, mind, or it’ll be left in the oven to shrivel to a crisp.” She flicked her headscarf at his back. “Sometimes I think you prefer your Sunday roast that way!”

  “I like your cooking any way it comes, my love,” Donald teased, blew her a kiss and closed the door behind him.

  “That man!” Martha went into the kitchen shaking her head. “I don’t know what I ever saw in him!” Her smile was proof enough that she didn’t mean her words.

  “I know you don’t mean that, Mam. You and Dad are closer and happier than any couple I know. How do you do it? What’s your secret?”

  “How do we do what, love? We don’t have any secrets. What are you talking about?” Martha frowned.

  “I hear the other families on this street bickering all the time. I’ve never heard you two shout at each other. You never seem to fall out, but when you do, it’s not for long. How do you stay so happy all the time?”

  “Ah, I see.” Martha smiled. “It’s love, my child.” Martha did a twirl in the kitchen and giggled like a little girl. “Simply love.”

  “I hope I find that kind of love someday.” Hazel immediately thought of Glenn, and her heart skipped.

  “Oh, you’re far too young to look for love, Hazel.” Her mother seemed dismissive of Hazel’s dream. “Enjoy your friendship with Eunice before you think about settling down with a man.”

  Hazel thought she might take advantage of her mother’s light-hearted mood to ask more about her past. “Ray said something that surprised me earlier, Mam.”

  “What was that, love?” Martha stepped into the pantry to get the vegetables for dinner.

  “He said you and Aunty Audrey weren’t always the best of friends when you were younger.” She got her mother’s attention and pushed her point. “He mentioned you were rivals before you both got married. Is that true?”

  “I wouldn’t say we were rivals.” Martha seemed to pay close attention to the vegetables and was avoiding looking at Hazel.

  “But you weren’t always friends?” Hazel pushed.

  Her mother glanced up. “We didn’t know each other well before we moved to this street.”

  “Oh!” Hazel remembered some conversations she’d overheard in the past. “I thought all four of you were close before that. Didn’t I hear you once say that Aunty Audrey wouldn’t have married Uncle Larry if it hadn’t been for you giving them a push in the right direction?”

  Martha’s head snapped up quickly. “Where did you get that idea from?”

  “I must have heard you and dad talking about it once.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t eavesdrop, it’s rude.”

  “Did you help to get them together?” Hazel thought it was romantic that her mother had played cupid to Eunice’s mam and dad.

  “In a way, I suppose I did,” Martha conceded and smiled softly. “It wasn’t difficult. Audrey was a real beauty when she was a young woman. Larry had no objections when me and your dad asked him to take her on.”

  “You make it sound as if you sold her to him like a sack of spuds, Mam!”

  “Sorry, that wasn’t the best choice of words, love, was it?”

  “What happened, Mam?”

  Martha waited a few seconds as if choosing her words more carefully this time. “Poor Audrey got herself into a pickle, and we decided to try to help her out. It’s not always a good thing to be born attractive, you know. She got lots of attention from the lads, and the poor woman wasn’t strong enough to resist their charms. She was a real stunner, did you know?”

  “Like you were?”

  Martha huffed. “I don’t know about that.” She pressed her lips together and frowned. “You’ll soon know what it’s like to be popular with the lads, Hazel. Don’t let it go to your head, though. Take that as a warning.”

  “Were you popular, Mam?” Hazel knew her mother had also been very attractive in her youth. Martha was still a good-looking woman for her age. “Did you have many admirers?”

  “One or two.” Martha smiled. “Where is all this coming from? You’ve never shown interest in my past before.” She continued peeling the potatoes. “What’s that Simpson boy been telling you?”

  “Nothing much. Just that he thought you were about my age when you first met dad.”

  Martha’s busy hands paused, and she seemed to stare into the distance for a few seconds. Eventually, she nodded. “Yes, I would have been about nineteen when I first met your dad, but he wasn’t interested in anything serious with me back then. There was a war on and he went off to fight. It wasn’t until a couple of years later that we actually got together.”

  “Why did it take you so long? Was it because of the war?” Hazel asked, warming to the subject. She now had her own reasons to be asking such questions. “Or didn’t he like you?”

  “Oh, he liked me well enough, but you’ll soon begin to understand that you need more than a lad to like you before you agree to walk out with him.”

  “What do you mean?” Hazel’s heart was beginning to beat a little faster. This was a subject she was very interested in hearing more about.

  “You need to know that a lad will respect you and treat you well before you let him take you out.”

  “Didn’t you think dad would respect you when you were nineteen?”

  Martha laughed her soft laugh and lifted her head. “I didn’t know enough about anything to make a judgement. My father didn’t think I was old enough to know my own mind at that age, and he was right. Just as your father thinks the same of you now.”

  “Were you interested in my dad, then, despite what your fath
er said?”

  “I was, but because my father forbade me from seeing him, your dad gave up on me and went looking elsewhere for his fun, just as your grandfather said he would.” She sighed and picked up another potato.

  “Were you upset?”

  Martha nodded. “I was. I think I cried for weeks, and I certainly thought my dad was the cruellest person in the world to keep me from the only man I could ever love.”

  “Really? Did you know he was the man you would marry, even then?” Hazel went to sit opposite her mother and picked up a knife to help with the vegetables. “What did you do?”

  “I tried to forget all about your dad. I started to go out with my friends at the weekend. We’d go to the church dances or arrange picnics in the park. When I discovered Donald had moved on to another young woman, my heart got broken again, but I wasn’t going to let it show.”

  “Who did he take up with?” Hazel was enthralled.

  Her mother shook her head and lowered her eyes. “It isn’t important.”

  “Did you know her?” Hazel insisted.

  Martha nodded. “She didn’t mean anything to him. He treated her badly, so I suppose my dad was right in keeping us apart. I think your father, like most young men, needed to get some things out of his system before he was ready to fall in love properly and settle down with me.”

  Hazel didn’t quite understand what her mother was talking about but didn’t know what questions to ask to make things clearer. “I can’t imagine dad treating anyone badly. What did he do to this young woman?”

  “That’s not a subject for polite conversation, love. You’re too young to understand, so we’ll leave it there.”

  “But, Mam!” Hazel knew it would do her no good to protest. Once her mother deemed a subject unsuitable, it was closed for good. She had hoped to turn the conversation to her advantage and ask about being allowed to go out with her friends, just as her mother did at nineteen.

  “Did you mix the Yorkshire pudding batter?”

  Hazel nodded. “I did it after breakfast so it would have a good long rest before we need to bake it.” She pointed to the bowl of batter sitting near the pot sink. She didn’t want to give up on the conversation so quickly, though, and asked, “Do you think dad might let me go out with Eunice soon? She’s been into town with Raymond once or twice, and it’s all she goes on about. Will you ask him, Mam? I’m almost nineteen, and you said that’s how old you were when you started to go out into town.”