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Overview
Liverpool, 1973. Reluctantly, widow Jenny Langton decides to downsize, swapping the spacious family home she shared with her late husband for a one-bedroomed retirement flat at Merseyside Mansions.
It’s difficult enough attempting to start anew at her age, but the antics of her wayward granddaughter Karen, and her disastrous choice of men, threaten to drive Jenny to distraction. Finally conceding that Karen must make her own mistakes in life, Jenny determines to move on and no longer interfere.
Just as she’s settling into Merseyside Mansions and making new friends, Karen’s reappearance threatens to de-rail Jenny’s carefully-constructed new life and cause problems with her fellow residents. Her relationship with her granddaughter tested to the limit, Jenny must decide whether she should allow family loyalty to stand in the way of her future happiness – particularly now she’s about to embark on a late-flowering love affair …
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781847515803 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Severn House |
| Publication date: | 12/01/2015 |
| Edition description: | Reprint |
| Pages: | 224 |
| Product dimensions: | 5.40(w) x 8.40(h) x 0.60(d) |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Moving On
By Rosie Harris
Severn House Publishers Limited
Copyright © 2015 Marion HarrisAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-84751-580-3
CHAPTER 1
Jenny Langton sighed as she switched off the mower and flopped down on to the garden seat to take a short rest.
A trim woman of medium height, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes, wearing dark brown cotton trousers and a light blue linen top, she looked very capable and younger than her fifty-nine years.
It was almost the end of June 1973, a dull muggy day with a threat of rain in the air, which was why she had decided to cut the grass that afternoon.
Although it was only a week since she had last cut it, it had looked so long and unkempt she'd felt duty bound to do it.
She looked at the lawn critically, noting that the lines were slightly uneven, and sighed again. When Eddy had cut it the stripes had always been as straight as a dye. And when he'd finished mowing he had always trimmed around the edges afterwards with a strimmer so that they were sharply defined. Well, trimming them would have to wait for another day, she told herself; it would take all her energy to put the mower away in the garage.
She missed Eddy so much, she reflected, as she went indoors and made herself a cup of tea. You didn't expect your children to die before you did and Eddy had been only thirty-eight, exactly the same age as his father, William, had been when he had died in 1945.
Eddy had been only ten years old then and, as a result, Jenny reflected, they had become exceptionally dependent on each other, comforting each other in their grief. Even after he had grown up they still remained close.
It had been almost as much for Eddy's sake as her own that she had stayed in Warren Point, the house that William had bought and been so proud of owning.
It was a lovely house on a high promontory at the end of Warren Drive overlooking the point where the Mersey estuary joined the Irish Sea. In the far distance the Snowdonia range of mountains in North Wales were clearly visible.
William had been so proud of their achievement the day they moved in there. Eddy had been a three-year-old toddler and he had carried him to the end of the garden so that they could look out across the Mersey to the Bar where liners waited their turn to come into Liverpool to dock and unload their passengers or cargo.
As soon as the tide was right for them to do so, a fleet of little tug boats would come out, attach their lines to the liner and guide it into port.
The house had cost far more than they could comfortably afford but William was confident that he could meet the overheads. He was halfway up the ladder of management at the Premium Printing Company based in Liverpool and he intended to get right to the very top; to one day become managing director of the company.
The early days really had been quite a struggle, and it had taken them several years to completely furnish the house in the way they wanted it. They'd chosen every item with care and always the very best they could afford. Jenny loved every inch of her home and still treasured all their possessions.
Eddy had grown up there enjoying a happy, healthy childhood, attending the nearby junior school in Wallasey Village and then advancing to Wallasey Grammar School. He had also had an active social life in the local community.
William's death when Eddy was only ten had been a terrible blow to him as well as to her, but with her encouragement Eddy had fulfilled all the plans his father had outlined for him; grammar school, university and then a position with Premium Printing.
He'd gone to a university in the south of England. It was there that he'd met and fallen madly in love with Fiona, a red-headed, feisty Londoner.
Deep down, from her very first meeting with Fiona, Jenny had thought their relationship a mistake. She was Eddy's first girlfriend and he was mesmerized by her. He had always been so sensible about everything that Jenny hesitated to intervene, afraid that it might be jealousy on her part that was making her feel that it was an unsuitable match.
It had been a whirlwind courtship and, not wanting to appear to be an overbearing or possessive mother, she relied on his good judgement, constantly assuring herself that he knew what he was doing. After all, she hardly knew the girl, and apparently Eddy had known her throughout the three years he'd been at university.
Eddy had joined the Premium Printing Company when he left university and the same year married Fiona. For economic reasons they had moved in with Jenny in Warren Point. In William's will the house had been left jointly to her and Eddy so it seemed to be the sensible solution. It was large enough for Eddy and Fiona to have their own set of rooms and live independently.
Like his father, Eddy was ambitious and settled in well at Premium Printing, but his home life was far from stable. Fiona was not domesticated; Jenny was proud of her home and Eddy found himself continually making peace between his wife and mother over domestic tiffs.
Fiona was a career girl and found work as a press relations officer for a shipping agency in Liverpool. Her hours were so erratic that within a very short time it was agreed between the three of them that the running of Warren Point would be left entirely to Jenny. They also agreed that they would all eat together and that Jenny would do the shopping and cooking.
When Fiona discovered she was pregnant she was far from pleased. From the moment Karen was born she resented having to give up her glamorous job. When Karen was a year old she insisted on going back to work and asked Jenny if she would look after Karen.
At first Jenny had refused. She was already kept busy running their home. But Fiona said that if she wouldn't do it then she would engage a full-time nanny. Jenny hadn't wanted to have another stranger in her home so she had given in and agreed to look after Karen.
Karen was an adorable baby and Jenny found she enjoyed looking after her and watching her grow into a bright toddler with a sunny smile and endearing ways and finally into an intelligent little girl. She often thought of her as the daughter she had always wanted.
Eddy idolized his little daughter but Fiona seemed to hardly notice the child. She didn't appear to have any maternal instincts whatsoever. She didn't even pick Karen up and kiss her or sit and cuddle her, and, as Karen grew older, it was always left to Eddy or Jenny to read her a story at bedtime.
When Fiona's job took her away from home for several days at a time she never enquired after Karen's welfare when she returned. The only time she seemed to notice the child was when they had visitors, and then she basked in their praises when they said what a lovely little girl Karen was becoming.
Fiona made no secret of the fact that she found living in the north of England very dull. It was the start of the swinging sixties and Fiona wanted to be in the thick of all the excitement. She was convinced that to do that it was imperative for her and Eddy to move to London.
For once Eddy dug his heels in and refused to listen to her. Shortly after Karen's fourth birthday Fiona told him that she couldn't stand being married to him any longer and that she was leaving him and wanted a divorce.
Nothing Eddy said or did could persuade her to change her mind. When Eddy finally agreed to a divorce she told him that she didn't intended taking Karen along with her.
'She's your responsibility. I never wanted a child,' she told him. 'Your mother has cared for her practically from the day she was born so she can carry on doing so.'
Eddy was a devoted father and worked hard to provide for Karen and his mother. Like his own father he was determined to become managing director of Premium Printing; but he died before achieving his goal.
As soon as he had known about his illness a few years earlier Eddy had set up a special fund to make sure that there was enough money for Karen to complete her education.
Jenny and Eddy had had great hopes for Karen's future. She was bright and intelligent and enjoyed school. They hoped that she would follow in his footsteps and work at Premium Printing. They had wanted her to go to university but Karen had dug her heels in and steadfastly refused.
'I want to leave school and start work the moment I am old enough to do so,' she insisted, her green eyes flashing as she pushed back her shock of dark blonde hair.
For the first time Jenny realized that there was a strong resemblance to Fiona, both in Karen's looks and manner, and it troubled her.
It was around this time that Karen suddenly started asking questions about her mother. She wanted to know what she had looked like, what she had done for a living, why she had left, where she was now and why she never wrote to them or came to see them.
Jenny left it to Eddy to fill in the details but she was aware that Karen was suddenly taking a great interest in her appearance and in what she wore. She changed out of her school uniform the minute she came home and deplored the fact that her clothes weren't the latest styles. Jenny insisted that she would have to wait until she was earning her own money before she could buy any new ones, so Karen wore frilled petticoats with her last year's cotton skirts to make them appear fuller and longer in keeping with the latest fashions.
When she left grammar school, nothing either Jenny or Eddy could say would make her change her mind about going to university. They did manage to persuade her to go to a secretarial training college in Liverpool.
'She can always go to university later on as a mature student if she wants to,' Eddy told Jenny. 'I'm pleased that she won't be leaving home. Anyway,' he added, 'it might even be better to let her start right away on the bottom rung of the ladder at Premium Printing and work her way up; that way she'll know what it's all about.'
Jenny had agreed with him, knowing that Karen was not only assured of a secretarial position when she had finished training but that Eddy would be there in the background and able to keep an eye on her progress.
Now with Eddy's recent death, everything had changed. Karen was nearly eighteen now and within a matter of weeks would be leaving college where she'd been studying English and secretarial skills.
She would certainly have to earn her own living, Jenny mused, because rises in the cost of living meant that the money Eddy had left would quickly be exhausted and her own income from the insurance William had taken out wouldn't keep them both. In fact it barely covered the expenses involved in running Warren Point.
She knew Karen had been promised a position as a secretary at Premium Printing but with Eddy no longer a director there Jenny wondered how well she would cope on her own.
In the last few months her personality seemed to have changed. She was far more demanding than she had been when Eddy was alive. Nowadays she was ready to argue about most things; certainly about everything she was asked to do. That sort of attitude wouldn't go down at all well in an office, Jenny thought worriedly.
It was no good dwelling on the problem Jenny reflected, but she suspected that Karen didn't really want to be a secretary, rather she would have liked to work in public relations, the same as her mother had done.
Jenny finished her cup of tea and went into the kitchen to start preparing their evening meal. She was being unduly pessimistic she told herself. Karen was intelligent as well as attractive and she'd had good training, so she was quite capable of making her own way in life.
CHAPTER 2Karen Langton, looking extremely efficient in her trim black suit and plain white blouse, picked up her notepad and newly sharpened pencil and made her way into John Williams's office.
It was her second week at Premium Printing and she was now becoming used to being summoned almost the moment she arrived at work to take down dictation by Mr Williams, a middle-aged balding man who was one of the directors.
Karen supposed that he must spend the previous evening thinking about all the things he had to do next day and started composing the letters on his way into work in the morning.
To her surprise, instead of leaning back in his black leather swivel chair, closing his eyes and beginning to dictate the moment she entered his office as he usually did, he was sorting through a pile of papers that almost completely covered the top of his desk.
'A reporter from the Liverpool Gazette is coming in late this morning for a story on the history of Premium Printing. You'll find all the details you need in these,' he said as he gathered the papers up into a single pile.
'Since your father was a director here you probably know most of the history of our company anyway,' he added as he handed them to her.
'You want me to put together a publicity story from these?' Karen frowned.
'That's right. About two thousand words,' he told her crisply.
'Surely it's up to the reporter to do that.'
He stared at her over the top of his gold-rimmed spectacles. 'I want you to do it. I want the article to be accurate, not some trumped up journalistic make-believe. If we hand it to him ready to set then we should get what we want.'
'Very well, but if he is a properly trained journalist then I'm afraid he will make changes because he will want to rewrite it in his own style,' Karen warned.
Mr Williams dismissed her with a wave of his hand, completely ignoring what she had said.
Returning to her own office, Karen devoted the next couple of hours to writing and rewriting her piece; polishing it until she felt it was not only a hundred per cent accurate but ready to be published exactly as it stood.
Mr Williams didn't even glance at it when she returned to his office and handed it to him.
'You'll find the reporter waiting in reception,' he told her. 'Give it to him and tell him not to change a word of it.'
'How do you know it's accurate?' Karen asked. 'You haven't even looked at it.'
He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. 'When you've done that, come back with your notebook; I have several letters to dictate.'
Feeling a little miffed, Karen went down to the reception area. Waiting there was a tall handsome man in his mid-twenties casually dressed in grey flannels and a dark green tweed sports coat. He was drumming impatiently with his fingers on the counter.
She looked at him speculatively. He didn't look like a reporter but there was no one else in sight. 'Are you from the Liverpool Gazette?' she asked.
'Depends who is asking,' he told her, his dark blue eyes twinkling.
'Have you come to collect some copy?' she asked primly, not responding to his teasing look.
'Is that all you have for me?' he asked, holding out his hand to take the typed sheets from her.
'Make sure that it goes in exactly as it stands with no alterations whatsoever,' she told him decisively.
He frowned. 'I can't promise you that; it's bound to need some editing.'
'No!' She clung on to the papers. 'It has to go in exactly as it is written. Those are Mr Williams's instructions.'
'Is he the chap I spoke to on the phone?'
'Yes. He's one of the directors here and his word is law.'
'So did he write this copy?'
'No, I did.'
'You did.' His blue eyes gleamed. 'Well, that certainly makes all the difference. If you did it Miss ...?' He paused and looked at her enquiringly.
'Langton, Karen Langton.'
'Thank you, Miss Langton.' He reached out and took the typed sheets from her hand. "I'm sure it will be perfect and I'll see it is printed just as it stands,' he told her with a mocking little bow that brought a flush to her cheeks.
'Would you like to see an advanced copy so that you can check that I have kept my word?' he asked, turning to look at her as he headed for the door.
'That might be a good idea,' she countered. 'I was always told never to trust a newspaper reporter.'
'Touché! Well, in that case you'd better meet me tomorrow night at seven o'clock at the Odeon restaurant and check it over while you have dinner with me.'
He was gone before she could answer, and Karen went back up to her office with a half-smile on her face. He certainly had a nerve, she thought, wondering whether she ought to keep the date since he had not even told her his name.
She was still thinking about him as she collected her notebook and a couple of well-sharpened pencils and returned to Mr Williams's office.
For the next hour she was forced to concentrate on what he was dictating and put everything else out of her mind.
'Have you ever thought of using a dictating machine, Mr Williams?' she asked when finally she closed her notebook.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Moving On by Rosie Harris. Copyright © 2015 Marion Harris. Excerpted by permission of Severn House Publishers Limited.
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