A Family’s Heartbreak. Kitty Neale

mere mention of a man.

      ‘You’re a pretty little thing and I’d hate to see you become a washed-up old spinster. You should go out more. There’s always a fancy dance going on at the ballroom above the ABC.’

      Jenny sat back in her chair and heaved a sigh. Just the thought of walking into the ballroom made her heart race. A few of the girls at work went regularly and had encouraged her to join them, but she couldn’t pluck up the courage to go. ‘No, Gran, I prefer being here with you, or at home looking after the boys.’

      ‘Oh, get orf with you! You’re a young woman in your prime. You shouldn’t be sat with an old woman or babysitting your brothers. Gloria and Pamela are old enough to do that, and anyway, they’re your dad’s responsibility, not yours. You should be out enjoying yourself. So next Saturday, just to please me, I want you to get spruced up and go to the dance.’

      Jenny would do anything to please her gran, but she could feel her face burning again. She reckoned her cheeks were probably as red as her hair and was grateful when she heard a knock on the door. ‘That must be Pam back with your mousetraps,’ she said as she got up, avoiding answering her gran’s request.

      ‘That was quick,’ Jenny said as she opened the door, but was surprised to find a man on the doorstep. He looked young, possibly about the same age as her or maybe a few years older. He had light brown eyes and longish sandy-coloured hair. Flushing, she lowered her eyes, and was surprised to see that he was wearing slippers.

      ‘Hello, I’m Craig from upstairs,’ he said.

      That explains the slippers, Jenny thought, too shy to look up at him again. ‘Oh … erm … hi,’ she managed to stutter.

      ‘Is that Craig?’ Edith shouted.

      Jenny spun around towards the lounge. ‘Yes, Gran.’

      ‘Bring him in … tell him you’ve just made a pot of tea.’

      Jenny slowly turned back to face Craig and looked at him through the hood of her amber lashes. ‘You’d, er, best come in.’

      Craig followed Jenny through to the lounge. She could feel his eyes on her back and felt very self-conscious.

      ‘Hello, sit yourself down, and Jenny, fetch another cup,’ her gran instructed in her usual friendly manner.

      Jenny was pleased to be away from the lounge and out of Craig’s sight. She found his long gaze intimidating, and as usual didn’t know what to say. Unfortunately, with no excuse to dawdle, she was soon back in the lounge and pouring Craig a cup of tea.

      ‘So you’re Jenny,’ Craig said, smiling warmly. ‘You’re Edith’s eldest granddaughter. I’ve heard lots about you.’

      ‘Don’t worry, girl. I’ve only said nice things,’ her gran said, chuckling.

      ‘Yes, that’s right,’ Craig agreed. ‘She told me you work at that electrical component place. A fiddly job that. I’m quite handy with my hands too – I make small items of furniture.’

      It was obvious he was trying to make conversation, and, much as Jenny would have liked to participate, she was finding it very difficult. It didn’t help that her gran seemed to be scrutinising her, though Jenny doubted the old woman could see very much. ‘Would … would you … like a jam tart?’ Jenny offered quietly.

      ‘I’m sorry, can you repeat that please?’ Craig asked.

      Edith interrupted. ‘I’ve already told you he’s deaf, Jen. You have to make sure he can see your face when you talk to him, and then he can read your lips.’

      ‘Oh! Sorry,’ Jenny said to Craig, more embarrassed than ever, and slowly repeated her question.

      ‘Yes, please. I love your gran’s cooking,’ Craig replied with gusto.

      Jenny went through to the kitchen and fumbled in the biscuit tin. Pull yourself together, she thought. Not only was she incredibly shy, she’d never met a deaf person before, though if her gran hadn’t told her she’d never have guessed that Craig was hard of hearing.

      There were only two armchairs in the lounge, bottle-green fabric with wooden armrests. Craig was sitting in one and her gran in the other, but when Jenny came back into the lounge, he was quick to offer her his seat. She politely declined, and instead sat at a small table tucked up against the wall.

      ‘These are delicious, Edith, melt in your mouth,’ Craig said as he swallowed the last of his tart.

      ‘My granddaughter’s a good cook too, ain’t that right, Jen?’

      Jenny’s heart sank as she realised her gran was playing Cupid. If that was her game, she could think again and re-aim her crooked arrow, Jenny thought. She wondered if Craig had cottoned on.

      ‘Well, she’s had the best teacher.’

      ‘’Ere, I’ve just had a thought,’ Edith said, and moved to the edge of her chair. ‘Why don’t you take Jenny to the dance in the ballroom next Saturday?’

      Jenny could feel herself squirming and wanted to tell her gran to shut up. She lowered her head, not daring to look at Craig, wondering if he felt just as embarrassed.

      ‘I’d love to, Edith, but I’m not a good dancer. I can’t hear the music and I’ve got two left feet. But there’s a St Trinian’s film playing at the cinema. It stars George Cole, he’s a right funny one. Do you fancy coming with me to watch it, Jenny?’

      Jenny looked up but couldn’t find her voice. Craig was good-looking, and she liked him, but he was probably only asking her out because her gran had put him on the spot.

      ‘Yes, she’d like that, wouldn’t you, Jen?’ her gran said, answering for her.

      ‘Er … yes … I suppose,’ Jenny eventually stuttered.

      ‘Great,’ Craig said, smiling.

      To her relief, Jenny heard another knock on the door and jumped up. ‘I’ll get it. It’ll be Pamela,’ she said, relieved to escape for a moment to gather her thoughts. Craig had a relaxed, easy-going air about him, but she’d never been on a date before and the thought terrified her. Maybe she could say that she’d just realised that she was busy and couldn’t go.

      ‘You look at bit pale. What’s wrong?’ Pamela asked worriedly as she stepped into the flat.

      ‘Nothing,’ Jenny whispered in reply. ‘Gran has a visitor.’

      ‘Oh, who?’

      ‘The bloke from upstairs, Craig. He’s deaf but he can tell what you’re saying by reading your lips.’

      ‘Deaf? What, he can’t hear anything?’

      ‘Not a word, so when you talk make sure you’re facing him.’

      ‘Blimey, I’ve never spoken to a deaf person before. I wouldn’t know what to say.’

      ‘Don’t worry, other than his hearing he’s just like anyone else. Just be yourself,’ Jenny answered, thinking it ironic that she was giving advice to her younger sister, yet she herself was struggling to communicate without blushing.

      ‘This is Pamela, another of my granddaughters,’ Edith told Craig as they walked into the lounge.

      ‘Hello, Pamela,’ said Craig, smiling warmly.

      Pamela managed to stammer hello, and then Craig rose to his feet. ‘I’d best be off, but before I go, is it all right if I pick you up next Saturday, Jenny, or I could meet you here?’

      ‘You can meet her here,’ Edith said quickly.

      ‘Right, see you next week. Nice meeting you, Pamela, and see you soon, Edith. Don’t worry, I’ll see myself out.’

      Pamela waved in slow motion, seemingly fascinated and in awe at meeting a deaf man. As the front door closed, she asked, ‘What did he mean