Thelma Stone had a heart of stone, a sinister stare that gave children nightmares and a hatred for everyone, particularly men.
Everyone who knew her, hated her too.
Thelma had been twenty five years old when she was jilted at the altar on April 1st 1950. Long after the wedding guests and family had left, she had sat on the steps of the church until nightfall.
She hoped that her intended, George, had been playing a prank on her and that he would come racing up the path shouting 'April fool!'
She wasn't upset because she loved him or that her heart was broken, it was because it had been her only chance of getting a ring on her finger.
The gathered wedding guests had headed straight for the pub, led by the bride's father. Not wanting to waste the food and drink laid on for the reception, they partied in to the evening without a thought for the bride and her shattered dignity.
Two of her sisters had stayed with her for a while but she sent them away, not wanting them to see her humiliation.
Thelma was the eldest of five daughters and it was unlikely she would ever leave home. Her widowed father, Norman, hoped she would never get married; he wanted her to stay put so she could carry on looking after him. Norman had no worries on that score though, his daughter was such an ugly girl, no man would want to marry her.
Thelma was eight years old when her mother died giving birth to twins Margaret and Mary. The babies stayed in hospital for three months and then they were handed over to the care of their maternal grandmother, Norah.
Thelma took over the household chores at home, helped to look after her other two sisters and divided her time between school, home and her gran's house to run errands.
Over the years she watched the four girls grow up into young ladies and one by one, they started courting. Margaret had been the last to get married, moving in to her own home just like her sisters had.
Despite having very little time to herself while she was growing up, Thelma loved to practice her writing and arithmetic and knew she would like to work with figures.
She had started work as a filing clerk for a group of accountants when she was sixteen. After eight years, the firm had expanded and she had only progressed to that of the senior filing clerk, always being overlooked for serious promotion.
Thelma yearned to get married and have a family but at twenty four years old was beginning to feel 'left on the 'shelf'. She knew she wasn't pretty like her sisters and agreed with her father that no man would want to marry her.
Norman liked a drink and would spend every evening in the 'Red Lion' pub with his workmates. He was a bus conductor and the company had hired a new lad, George, a personable character that Norman had taken under his wing. George rented a pricey, tiny room in a big draughty house and couldn't afford a hot meal in the canteen every day.
"Make the lad a good pie, he needs feeding up," Norman told his daughter after he'd invited George to dinner.
Thelma did indeed make a good pie, and George's heart was easily won through his stomach. He didn't see the tall, thin, plain girl stood before him, he saw a kind, homely girl and felt sorry for her.
George became a regular visitor after that and he always bought a couple of bottles of beer for Norman with him. That was the way to Norman's heart and he eventually invited George to rent the spare bedroom.
This arrangement suited everyone, especially Thelma. She was very keen on George but didn't dare hope that he felt the same way. She knew she had to be content just looking after him; his laundry, cleaning and cooking were taken care of and it was the closest she would come to being his wife. Norman and George still enjoyed drinking together every night and the household ran smoothly for several months.
