Lime Street Blues by Maureen Lee Page B

had been grumpy all day. Perhaps he was also missing Max’s company, or it could be he was still cross with Mum. Last night, he had expressed his annoyance with the fact the colonel had been sold his own smoking jacket.
    ‘But it was me that sold it,’ Jeannie pointed out.
    ‘Yes, but it was your mother’s idea he buy something.’
    ‘I don’t see anything wrong with that, Tom,’ Rose said mildly. ‘It was just his way of giving to charity.’
    ‘Maybe so, but next year I’d be obliged if you’d leave him to make up his own mind how he gives to charity.’
    ‘I’m sorry, Tom.’
    Tom made a harrumphing noise and had seemed satisfied with the apology. Jeannie was glad Max had gone to bed early and avoided the incident. He was bound to have said something to inflame things.
    She climbed down the steps of the ghost train, which hadn’t seemed nearly so frightening without a terrifying commentary from Max.
    ‘Is it time for dinner yet?’ she asked her mother.
    ‘I want to stay longer in the fairground,’ Gerald whined, though he was normally an exceptionally serene little boy.
    ‘Maybe Jeannie and I could have a cup of tea and you stay with your dad, love,’ Rose suggested.
    Gerald burst into tears. ‘I don’t want to stay with Dad. He won’t go on things with me.’
    Tom’s face, which had been tight all day, grew tighter. ‘You’ll do what your mother says, lad.’
    ‘It’s all right, Tom. We’ll have a cup of tea later.’
    ‘No,’ Tom said authoritatively. ‘You’ll have one now. I’ll see you back here in half an hour.’
    ‘Ten minutes will be long enough.’ Rose threw a worried glance at her tearful son.
    ‘Ten minutes will be fine,’ Jeannie concurred.
    ‘I said half an hour.’ Her father turned away dismissively.
    What was happening to them? Jeannie wondered over the tea that she didn’t enjoy a bit. Her mother lookedupset and hardly spoke during the half hour that seemed to take for ever. Perhaps she was also at a loss to understand why the day they’d been so much looking forward to had turned out so horribly.
    Tom Flowers was a confused man. He stalked around the fairground, pointing out the various attractions to Gerald. ‘Do you want a ride on this?’ he barked when they reached the caterpillar.
    Gerald had refused to hold his hand. He lagged behind, sullen-faced, still tearful. ‘Not on my own,’ he sniffed. He wanted to ride with Jeannie or Max, but Jeannie wouldn’t be back for ages and Max wasn’t even there.
    Max! What was a father supposed to do with a son who treated him with a complete lack of respect? Tom’s own father had ruled his family with a rod of iron. Tom had never once disputed a word he’d said. He hadn’t particularly wanted to follow the tradition of the eldest son becoming the Corbetts’ gardener, but it was what his father had expected and Tom wouldn’t have dreamt of disappointing him.
    Yet Tom’s own son disappointed him all the time. It bothered him that the rest of his family didn’t approve of the punishment he’d meted out to Max. Instead of understanding, even his dear Rose appeared sorry Max had been left behind.
    But a man wasn’t a man if he didn’t play first fiddle in his own home. In future, Tom vowed he’d come down even harder on his rebellious son. It was time he made a stand – and he’d start now. He turned angrily on his other son. The caterpillar had stopped and he picked up Gerald and put him none too gently in the coach.
    ‘You wanted to come to New Brighton, so stop whingeing and enjoy yourself,’ he commanded.
    They returned to Ailsham two hours earlier than planned. No one felt like going to the shore to built sandcastles or paddle. The swimming gear was unused, the sandwiches uneaten.
    Rose loyally linked her husband’s arm on the long walk from the station. Jeannie and Gerald ran ahead, anxious to see their brother, but Max wasn’t there. He hadn’t been expecting them so early. He’d spent the day