Free The Twisted Way by Jean Hill

unfeeling father and that for him was a big plus. John was convinced that she had what he considered to be good principles and appreciated the affection and good companionship she offered him. All that glitters is not gold, he told himself, and he soon appreciated that Pam, under the dull exterior, was pure gold, and he eventually plucked up enough courage to ask her to marry him after they had completed their teaching training courses together in Bristol. They got engaged following a reluctant blessing from her parents, who thought John was a skinflint or perhaps really did not have enough money to keep their beloved daughter in reasonable comfort, though they would have been agreeably surprised, indeed amazed, if they had discovered the extent of his fortune. They never did.
    ‘No fuss,’ Pam had said. ‘I don’t want a flashy engagement ring or a white wedding, complete waste of money,’ a sentiment that pleased the introverted John. They purchased a modest secondhand solitaire diamond engagement ring from a small backstreet shop. A blue imitation silk suit, flat black patent court shoes and a small spray of yellow carnations were her choice when they got married in the local register office.
    ‘Lovely ring, darling John,’ Pam had said. ‘Reasonable too.’ ‘Cheapskate,’ her mother muttered under her breath when she set eyes on the ubiquitous ring. ‘What is the matter with the man? It looks worn and jaded.’
    ‘It’s antique, Mummy,’ Pam had said with pride when she showed it to her parents.
    ‘I should jolly well think it is,’ her mother responded with sarcasm and struggled to swallow her irritation in order to spare her daughter’s feelings.
    ‘Darling Pammy,’ John had called her; in his eyes she was perfect. Love and affection were, at long last, his to enjoy.
    ‘Darling,’ she would reply and fuss around him. She was warm and loving and that was an ingredient of which he had been starved for a very long time. He could not receive enough of her attentions.
    Pam’s parents were disappointed that they were not able to invite all their relatives to the wedding. A couple of college friends who were witnesses and Pam’s mother and father were the only guests.
    ‘You are letting us all down,’ her mother declared in a fierce high-pitched voice but her ranting fell on deaf ears. ‘The miserable buffet and wedding cake were a disgrace. We would have arranged something much better if you had let us. Uncle Bob and Auntie May will be most upset when they realise that they were not invited and they won’t be the only ones.’
    Shortly after John obtained a post in Everton Grammar School Pamela became pregnant. They purchased a rambling old cottage in need of renovation on the outskirts of Everton and looked forward eagerly to the arrival of their baby. A large garden and lawns surrounded the cottage on three sides. It was well fenced and private. ‘Ideal for children to play in, perfect,’ Pam declared.
    ‘There will be plenty of room for our family,’ John said. ‘We’ll have three or four, I expect. I’ve always wanted to be part of a large family.’
    Pamela was like a clucky hen; she bought a wicker cradle, lined it with pink and blue gingham, decorated the small spare bedroom in cream (suitable for a boy or a girl) knitted various baby garments and planned with avid enthusiasm for the future of their baby. She would stand in front of a long mirror that hung in their hall for at least half an hour almost every day gawping at her expanding shape. It was fascinating John thought, though he likened it to the swelling belly of a fish in a local pond but was sensible enough to keep that idea to himself.
    ‘I’m sure he or she will go to Oxford, John,’ she said. ‘Our child is sure to be academic just like we are.’
    She looked at him through her thick pebbled glasses and pressed her soft expanding body against him for comfort and love. John was ecstatic. Pam and the baby she was