He followed. When he came into the living-room, she was sitting in the fireside chair, her shoulders hunched forward and her troubled brown eyes staring into the dying embers of the fire. ‘I want you to go now,’ she said. Her voice was firm. It startled him.
Sensing her mood, he thought it best not to provoke her. Some women were like the spider, so filled with malevolence after mating that they devoured their mate. ‘If that’s what you want, Rosie.’ She didn’t answer. He felt uncomfortable. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was gone ten. ‘It might be just as well,’ he conceded. ‘But I will see you tomorrow, won’t I?’
‘Maybe.’ It wasn’t him she hated. It was herself.
He came to her then. ‘Rosie, we made love just now. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?’ He actually believed it had given him a claim on her for all time.
The desperation in his voice made her look up. ‘Of course it did,’ she told him kindly. ‘But it’s been a long tiring day, and it’s getting late.’
‘But we will see each other again?’
‘Why not?’ She wasn’t certain, but she could think about that later.
‘Tomorrow?’
‘No.’
‘When then?’
‘After I’m back at work.’ She needed to spend the rest of the holiday with Danny. Just the two of them. Somehow, she felt as though she’d betrayed him.
‘Whatever you say, Rosie. Just as long as I haven’t done anything to turn you against me.’ As far as he was concerned, the fun was only just beginning and if it was to be ended, it would be him and not her who did the ending.
‘No. You’ve done nothing,’ she promised him. Standing up, she kissed him lightly on the cheek. ‘I’ll see you out.’
They didn’t exchange words at the door. He whispered goodnight, and she nodded. Then she closed the door and shot the bolt. A few moments later, she had a strip-wash after which she kissed Danny goodnight and went to her room, where she sat before the mirror brushing her thick brown tresses. ‘You’ve done it now, Rosie gal,’ she told herself in the mirror. ‘The bugger won’t leave you alone now.’ She smiled, her mouth wide and beautiful in the mirror. ‘Maybe that won’t be so bad,’ she murmured. ‘Happen when you’ve got Doug out of your life forever, there’ll be a better future with Robert Fellows. Danny won’t mind, that’s for sure.’ Before she could stop herself she was saying what was on her mind. ‘And what about Adam? What would he think of your behaviour tonight?’ Instantly her mood changed, and the pain was unbearable.
When she climbed into bed, she was still thinking of Adam. And when she slept, she dreamed of him.
* * *
‘ROSIE!’ Peggy’s voice sailed up from the street. ‘You lazy little sod, get up and let me in.’
Half-asleep, Rosie hoisted herself up on to her elbows. It was a minute before she realised it was daylight. One glance at the bedside clock told her it was already eight o’clock. ‘Gawd! Half the day’s gone!’ With one bound she was out of bed. As she reached the window, a stone clattered against it and Peggy’s voice yelled, ‘ARE YOU BLOODY DEAD IN THERE?’
Raising the sash window, Rosie leaned out. ‘It wouldn’t matter if we were, gal,’ she shouted back. ‘Because you’re enough to wake the dead. And stop throwing stones! If you break this window, it’ll cost you.’
Peggy laughed. ‘Oh? And who’s got up in a crotchety mood this morning, eh?’ Kicking the door with the tip of her shoe, she moaned, ‘Get a move on, gal. It’s bloody freezing out here.’ The milkman hurried by, his arms laden with bottles.
‘I’ll warm you up if you like,’ he promised.
‘Huh!’ she retorted. ‘It’ll take more of a man than you, Ben Slater. Anyway, you’ve been handling them bottles and your hands must be like ice, so you can bugger off.’ He went on his way chuckling to himself.
Rosie inched open the door. ‘Get in here, you,’ she ordered. ‘Before the whole street’s up.’ As Peggy rushed in, the cold came with her and Rosie’s teeth started chattering.
‘The whole street is up, gal.’ Marching into the living-room, Peggy went straight to the window and threw back the curtains. The daylight flooded in. ‘It’s a bloody good job we managed to get this holiday off, ’cause I don’t reckon you’d have made it to work today anyroad.’ She regarded Rosie with suspicious eyes. ‘It ain’t like you to oversleep, gal,’ she teased. Ain’t you well?’
‘I’m fine.’ Rosie went into the kitchen and filled the kettle. While she was lighting the gas ring, Peggy came in. She didn’t say anything, but stood there, her eyes following Rosie’s every move.
Rosie put the kettle on the ring and scooped up a bundle of kindling wood from the pile in the corner. Taking it into the living-room, she proceeded to light the fire. She knew Peggy was waiting for an explanation, and was unsure how to start. Little by little the events of last night were coming to mind, and were very disturbing to her.
‘You slept with him, didn’t you, gal?’ Peggy knew Rosie like the back of her hand. ‘You did, didn’t you?’ Coming into the living-room, she sat in the fireside chair. Rosie was still on her knees, blowing into the grate, trying to fan the flames through the kindling wood.
When it got hold, she leaned back on her haunches and looked up at her friend. ‘Can’t hide anything from you, can I?’
Peggy stared at her. ‘You bloody little fool!’
Rosie shrugged her shoulders. ‘Happen I am.’ Clambering up, she rubbed her knees. ‘I’ll just go up and see if Danny’s all right.’ With that, she hurried from the room, leaving Peggy exasperated.
When Rosie returned, her friend was just pouring the tea. ‘Is he awake?’ she asked. She was quieter now, more understanding.
Rosie shook her head. ‘He’s still fast and hard asleep.’ Now that she had her dressing-gown on, she was more comfortable, but still shivered when her bottom touched the cold wood of the dining chair. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said when Peggy sat down beside her. ‘I know I promised I’d be ready by eight, but we can still make the ten o’clock tram if you like.’
‘Don’t fret, gal,’ Peggy answered. She slurped her tea and stared at the tablecloth. ‘Last night… do you want to talk about it?’
Rosie peeped at her from the corner of her eyes. She did want to talk, yet she didn’t. In the end she decided to stall. ‘I had a letter from Doug the other day.’
‘Oh?’
‘I think he’s gone off his head.’
‘If you ask me, he was always off his head.’ Her mind was still on Robert Fellows, and she was just the tiniest bit jealous.
Rosie got the letter from the drawer. ‘I’m afraid for Danny,’ she whispered, handing it to her. ‘Read it, and you’ll see what I mean.’
Sensing the fear in Rosie, Peggy unfolded the letter and read:
My darling wife,
I expect you’re wondering why I haven’t written to you, especially when you’ve so often taken the trouble to write to me?
I’ve been thinking of you a lot lately, and it’s time, my love. Time to lay down some rules and regulations. You see,
I have to abide by them, and it’s only right that you should do the same.
How is the boy? Are you looking after him? I want you to keep him well for me. I wouldn’t like it if you let him forget me. It was a shock to discover that he wasn’t mine, but soon as ever I get out of here, I plan to deal with that little matter.
I’ll be home sooner than you think, my love. Meantime, don’t do anything that might anger me. I think you know by now that I’m not a very forgiving man.
I’m being made to pay the price for what I did. I think you should be punished too, you and the boy.
I know you must be lonely for me, but it won’t be too long now.
Your loving husband,
Doug
Peggy dropped the letter on to her knee. ‘I see what you mean,’ she said, looking up at Rosie with shocked eyes. ‘It ain’t what he says… it’s what he don’t say that’s so frighteni
ng.’
‘Do you get the feeling that he means to hurt Danny?’ Rosie spoke in a whisper in case the boy should come creeping down the stairs.
Instead of answering, Peggy put her own question. ‘I didn’t know you’d written to him several times?’
‘I haven’t,’ Rosie confessed. ‘I wrote to him just the once, soon after he was locked away. He never answered, so I didn’t write again.’
‘After he threatened you in court like that, you shouldn’t have written at all.’
‘I thought I should. He was under stress that day, and though I know it’s over between us, I couldn’t altogether abandon him.’ Rosie was frantic. ‘This letter… tell me what you really think?’ Taking the letter from Peggy, she absent-mindedly folded it, over and over, until it was small enough to hide in the palm of her hand. The very sight of it sent shivers down her spine.
‘You’re not to worry about it,’ Peggy entreated. ‘It’s plain he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I mean, fancy thinking Danny ain’t his!’ She shook her head in disbelief.
‘It was Martha who put the idea into his head, and where his mother was concerned, Doug could never think for himself.’ Every word she spoke brought back the horror of that night. ‘He means to hurt Danny, I just know it.’
Peggy forced a smile. ‘Give over, gal. How can he hurt anybody when he’s locked away in jail?’
Now for the suspicion that had haunted Rosie since she’d received the letter. ‘I’m sure he plans to escape.’
Peggy was adamant. ‘Never!’ She came to Rosie and put her arm round her. ‘You’re letting him get to you, kid, and that’s exactly what he wants. Doug is a bad lot but he’s a coward. Mark my words, gal, while he’s in there, he’ll toe the line. He’ll do his time, and when he comes out, you and Danny need have no fear of him.’
‘I wish I could believe that.’ Rosie had tried hard to put the letter out of her mind, but it was always there, festering away in her mind. Suddenly she leaped up and threw it into the flames. It curled in the heat and then was gone, eaten up, like Doug was eaten up with jealousy and madness.
‘That’s the best place for it,’ Peggy told her. She had returned to her chair and now was looking up at Rosie. ‘Get on with your life, gal,’ she said. ‘Doug had his chance. Now it’s yours.’
‘What if I took up with Robert Fellows?’
‘I reckon you’d be jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.’
‘Why?’
‘Because, in a different way, he’s as bad as Doug.’ She was on her feet now, showing her anger. ‘Robert Fellows has played around with everybody. He’ll use you just like he used them. Once he’s got what he wants, he’ll be gone, looking round for another plaything.’
The only young woman he hadn’t played around with, was Peggy herself. She bitterly resented that.
‘He doesn’t seem that kind of man to me.’
‘Well, you can take my word for it. You’d do well to steer clear.’ She didn’t wait for Rosie’s response. Instead she asked quietly, ‘What happened here last night?’
‘We had a wonderful day, the three of us. Last night after Danny was asleep in bed, we just… sort of fell into each other’s arms.’ The memory brought mingled pleasure and regret. She recalled the wild and wanton way she had behaved last night. That wasn’t love. It was a raging desire for sex, and now she questioned herself as to why it had happened. It seemed like another person had been in his arms, not her. Just thinking about it sent a pink flush over her face.
‘I’ve got to be going.’ Peggy suddenly made for the door. ‘I expect I’ll see you later, gal.’
Rosie ran down the passage after her. ‘Wait a minute, Peggy, I thought you wanted to go into town?’
‘Changed me mind.’ The door slammed and woke Danny up. After that, Rosie had little time to think about Peggy’s abrupt departure.
An hour later, when breakfast was over and the two of them were getting ready for the ten o’clock tram, Rosie was fastening Danny’s coat up. She couldn’t think why Peggy had behaved in such a strange manner. It was when she began going over what they’d discussed that it suddenly dawned on her. When she’d first started at Woolworths, Peggy had mentioned that she liked Robert Fellows. But Rosie had taken that to be a bit of fun, something and nothing that she’d taken little notice of. ‘Gawd! I must be blind,’ she chided herself. ‘Hurry up, sweetheart,’ she told Danny, who had run back into the living-room for his lead soldier. ‘I want to call on Auntie Peggy.’ If she didn’t put things right now, she would never forgive herself.
As Rosie closed her front door, Peggy came out into the street. For one uncomfortable minute the two of them stared at each other. Then Peggy laughed. And Danny laughed. And Rosie shook her head, a smile on her face and a lilt to her heart as Peggy came towards her. ‘What must you think of me?’ she asked.
‘I’ve already told you,’ Peggy replied, ‘I reckon you’re a bloody fool.’
Rosie laughed then. ‘So do I. What’s more, I’m not even sure he’s worth it.’
‘But you can have a bloody good time finding out, eh?’
‘Friends then?’
‘What else?’
‘A long walk into town if we don’t catch that tram.’ With that, they went at a smart pace along the street and down towards the tram stop. Danny skipped all the way, and Rosie felt that everything would come right, as long as Peggy was beside her.
Chapter Seventeen
Ned was all done up in his Sunday best. He knocked on the door and stood back, his shoulders against the wind. In no time the door was opened and Adam was heartened to see him there. ‘By! Here it is February, and there’s still no sign o’ this shocking weather easing up,’ Ned complained. As Adam opened the door to admit him, he took off his hat and shook the snowflakes on to the front doorstep.
‘It’s good of you to come round on a weekend.’ Adam quickly let him in. As they went across the spacious hallway, Ned was surprised to see that he was being led towards the library. Still, he said nothing. However close he and Adam were, and however much Adam would have argued, he was still only a guest in this house. All the same, usually when he paid a visit, he was always made welcome in the grand living-room. There must be a reason for Adam receiving him in the library, he thought, but it wasn’t for him to question why.
The reason was soon made clear. ‘Sit yourself down, Ned,’ Adam invited. Taking the other man’s coat, he flung it over the back of a chair, oblivious to the little pool that was formed on the carpet as the heat of the room melted the snowflakes. He poured Ned a stiff whisky. ‘That’ll get the blood moving again,’ he chuckled. Raising his own glass, he took a great swig.
Ned was shocked to see him drinking like that. As a rule, Adam rarely drank anything stronger than a pint of best or a glass of red wine with his meat on a Sunday.
‘Mrs Jessup’s in the other room with April.’ Adam smiled and it was a smile filled with love. ‘The little beggar won’t sleep, and she’s running rings round that poor woman. Still, since the dear old soul was widowed and came to live here, she’s been a real godsend.’ He strode to the window and stared out. ‘Anyway, I don’t want April hearing what I have to say, so I thought it best if we talked in here.’
‘What’s on your mind, son?’ Still suffering the effects of the bitter wind outside, Ned sipped eagerly at his drink, shivering when it fired his veins.
Silence greeted him. He looked up to see Adam staring out of the window, his head bent and his dark eyes pained, and knew straightaway what was on his mind: the same thing that had been on his mind these past weeks; the same thing that drove him half-crazy when another day passed and still she wasn’t home. ‘You’ll have to face it, Adam,’ he quietly pointed out, ‘Connie’s not coming back.’
Deep in thought, Adam appeared not to have heard the older man’s statement. Now, he swung round to face him. ‘For God’s sake, Ned, how could Connie just walk out and leave her child?’ Slamming his fi
st on the window frame, he strode to the desk and sat down heavily in the chair. Picking up a pencil, he turned it over and over against the desk top, ‘If she wants to end the marriage that’s fine. It was always rotten anyway, and it’s got nothing to do with me or anyone else. But the girl’s a little innocent.’ April was a warm and delightful little creature and he couldn’t understand how Connie could have left her.
‘It’s no use. You’ll have to go to the authorities,’ Ned told him. ‘Happen they’ll find Connie.’
‘Oh, aye! And happen they’ll put April in some bloody awful institution.’ The very idea was loathsome to him.
‘Look, Adam. You’ve done all any man could be asked to do for a friend. But Connie’s clearly gone forever, and you can’t hold on to that child indefinitely…’ He paused, making his next words convey a particular meaning. ‘Unless, of course, she really is yours?’
Adam leaned back in his chair. ‘I don’t know, Ned, he answered truthfully. ‘I can’t say she is, and I can’t say she isn’t. All I know is this… until Connie tells me otherwise, I’ve got to behave as though she is… and that means taking care of her when there’s no one else.’
‘And how long is that?’
‘As long as it takes.’
‘It’s been almost six months since she’s been gone, and there’s been no word whatsoever. Why don’t you have another go at her old man?’
‘Because he’s about as bloody useful as an empty paper bag! I’ve lost count of the times I’ve tried to reason with him.’ Adam had come close to thumping Connie’s husband in the mouth on more than one occasion. But violence never solved anything, and it certainly wouldn’t do the child any good. ‘He swears April is mine, and so does Connie… the letter’s in the cupboard there, you’ve seen it yourself. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now whether she’s mine or whether she isn’t. The lass is with me, and she’s staying put. And even if Connie’s old man was to go down on bended knee, neither Hell nor high water would make me hand her back to that bloody little creep. Not when he’s thrown her out and turned his back on her, like she was so much muck out of the midden.’
More Than Riches Page 31