by Kitty Neale
Her eyes hardened. ‘So, why did you ask me out?’
‘That’s just it, Patsy. It was just meant to be casual, nothing serious, but after a couple of dates you started getting proprietary. I’m not ready for that.’
‘Bugger off then. There’s plenty more fish in the sea and I know of one just waiting to be caught.’
Joe was pleased to go and hurried downstairs, happy to drive off. From Patsy’s reaction it was obvious he hadn’t broken her heart. In fact it sounded like she already had her eye on someone else.
Unaware of what had just transpired upstairs, Sally did her best to be cheerful. She had kept up this facade since talking to her gran, but it hadn’t made any difference. The atmosphere at home was still strained, but at least they still managed to act normally around Angel, and Sally was consoled that at least her daughter was happy.
When Patsy rang the doorbell, Sally could see by the expression on her face that something was wrong. She urged her in, and as Patsy flopped onto a chair, she said, ‘Joe has just been round. He said he doesn’t want to see me any more.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Sally said, moving forward to lay a conciliatory hand on Patsy’s shoulder. She looked so miserable and Sally’s heart went out to her. ‘Would you like something to drink?’
‘Yes, please, a coffee would be nice,’ she said, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.
It didn’t take Sally long to make Patsy a drink and she returned to the living room where her eyes widened with surprise. In the short time she’d been in the kitchen Patsy had recovered, no longer looking sad as she sat relaxed and laughing at something Arthur had said.
‘Oh, you are funny,’ Patsy sputtered. ‘It’s good that you can joke about your leg. And when do you get your artificial one?’
‘I’ve had two fittings now and I’m going to Roehampton to collect it on Monday morning.’
‘One of my clients has a false leg, but you can hardly tell. He barely limps at all, but he’s quite elderly and uses a stick.’
‘One of your clients? Somehow I can’t imagine you cutting an old man’s hair.’
Patsy flushed. ‘I do his wife’s hair and one day he asked me to cut his.’
Arthur nodded and then said, ‘I’m determined to walk without a stick.’
‘Good for you,’ Patsy said, uncrossing her own legs and reaching out to pick up her coffee.
At nine-thirty, Patsy still hadn’t left. She laughed and giggled with Arthur until Sally felt like screaming. His eyes continually strayed to Patsy’s legs, and in such a short skirt, there was a lot of them on show.
‘Bye, Arthur,’ Patsy said, with a cheeky wink when at last she rose to leave.
Sally managed to keep her feelings in check and said at the street door, ‘I’m sorry about you and Joe.’
‘Don’t worry about me, I’ll soon get over it, in fact, after this evening I already have.’
Sally was puzzled by her words, but soon forgot them when she returned to find Arthur struggling to his feet. It was before ten, yet he was going to bed. Impulsively she said, ‘Arthur, please, I know that something is wrong. Won’t you stay up for a while to talk about it?’
‘I’m not in the mood for talking,’ he said curtly.
With that he turned and hobbled away leaving Sally staring at his retreating figure.
When Sally awoke the next morning, she found the bed empty beside her. Surprised that Arthur was up at half past eight on a Sunday she threw on her dressing gown and went to the kitchen. Arthur was sitting at the kitchen table, deep in thought and seemed unaware of her presence. ‘Arthur, won’t you tell me what’s wrong?’
His face was taut. ‘Nothing’s wrong.’
‘I can see you’re upset about something. Is it to do with the site?’
‘No, it isn’t, in fact it’s closer to home. I was just sitting here thinking that unlike you, Patsy doesn’t see me as less of a man.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
His face suddenly reddened with anger and he yelled, ‘If you don’t bloody know, then I’m not about to tell you.’
‘Daddy, why are you shouting again?’ Angel cried.
Neither of them had noticed that she had come into the room and, after a brief, shocked silence, Arthur held out his arms. ‘Take no notice of me, princess. I must have got out of bed on the wrong side this morning. Come on, give me a hug and that will make me feel better.’
She scrambled onto his lap, saying, ‘Are you cross with Mummy?’
‘No, of course not. Now then, we’re going to see Nanny Elsie today, and as your granddad is coming to collect us in an hour, I think we should get ready, starting with breakfast.’
Angel nodded and Sally began to make toast, her mind on Arthur’s comment. He’d said that Patsy didn’t see him as less than a man, but what did he mean by that?
‘Can I wear my bestest dress, Mummy?’
‘Yes, all right,’ Sally said, hurrying to get her daughter bathed and ready after breakfast.
Alone in the bathroom, Angel said, ‘Daddy said he isn’t cross with you, but he is, Mummy. He isn’t nice to you.’
‘He’s just tired, darling,’ Sally said.
‘But he shouts at you and . . . and it makes you sad.’
Oh no, Sally thought, upset that Angel had seen through the facade. Her own childhood memories were of rows, yelling, and she didn’t want her daughter affected in the same way. At least today would be a happy one, full of laughter at Elsie’s, and she found herself looking forward to it. In fact, though it was hard to admit, Sally found that nowadays she’d rather spend the day with anyone other than Arthur.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Arthur was waiting impatiently for his father on Monday, and looking out of the window, he saw Patsy leaving her flat. He eyed her appreciatively. Patsy didn’t seem repulsed by his leg, and he had lightly flirted with her, hoping to make Sally jealous. He shouldn’t have done it of course and had been surprised when the girl flirted back. He was also surprised that Joe had broken up with her, and wondered why, but no doubt he’d soon find out.
Patsy disappeared from view just as he saw his father’s car drawing up outside, and Arthur hurried to let him in. ‘Hello, Dad.’
‘Hello, son, I’ve sorted the men out so are you ready for the off ?’
‘Yes, let’s go.’
As they travelled to Roehampton, they mainly spoke about the removals business, but more than once Arthur saw his father glance around, until finally he said what was on his mind. ‘Are you worried about adapting to an artificial leg, son?’
‘No, I can’t wait to get rid of the crutches.’
‘Don’t expect miracles, son. It’ll take you a while to adapt to a false leg.’
‘I’ve had practice in the gym and they were right, with a below the knee amputation it wasn’t too bad. The leg just needed a bit of adjustment, that’s all,’ Arthur told him, his thoughts turning to Sally. She was repulsed by his stump, so would having the false leg make any difference?
* * *
‘When we get home, Daddy should be there and he’ll have his new leg,’ Sally told Angel.
Angel smiled, as she skipped along beside Sally, and when they walked into the living room it was to see Arthur standing by the hearth. Her eyes travelled straight to where his trouser leg was usually pinned up to see that he looked whole, two black shoes now visible.
‘Well, what do you think?’ he asked, for once his tone soft.
‘It’s amazing,’ Sally told him.
‘Daddy . . . Daddy, show me,’ Angel cried, and running up to her father she began to tug at the leg of his trousers.
‘Leave it, Angel. Let me sit down,’ Arthur said, and taking a cane he limped towards a chair where he flopped down.
Angel looked puzzled. ‘Does it hurt, Daddy?’
‘Yes, a bit, but it’s my own fault. I’ve been trying all day to walk without a cane,’ he said, as he pushed up his trouser leg to show Angel his
prosthesis.
‘It looks funny, Daddy.’
Sally focused on Arthur’s aura and frowned. Surely it was a bit soon to go without crutches, let alone a cane.
‘You might find it funny, Angel, but from the look on your mother’s face, she doesn’t feel the same.’
‘But . . .’ Sally began to protest, but Arthur cut her short.
‘Don’t worry, I’m used to it,’ he said bitterly, covering the prosthesis again.
‘Arthur, please, what do you mean? Used to what?’ Sally asked.
‘Forget it,’ he said, turning his attention back to Angel.
‘I can’t just forget it.’
‘Tough, I’ve got nothing more to say.’
‘What’s wrong?’ Angel asked worriedly.
‘Nothing, darling,’ Sally said hastily, moving towards the kitchen. ‘I’ll make a start on dinner.’
They made the effort for Angel’s sake, but as soon as the child was put to bed Sally got the silent treatment from Arthur. When she asked if his stump was hurting she got little more than a grunt in reply, and was about to offer him some healing when Patsy paid them a visit.
Arthur perked up as soon as he saw her. ‘Hello, Patsy, you look nice.’
‘Well thank you, kind sir,’ she said. ‘I see you’ve got your prosthesis. How are you getting on with it?’
‘All right, except it’s a bit sore at the moment. I think I’m going to have to take another day off work tomorrow.’
‘Never mind. It’s early days yet and sure to get easier,’ she consoled.
On hearing that, Sally was worried. Arthur’s stump must be more than just sore for him to take another day off and she’d take a look at it as soon as Patsy left.
‘Any chance of a coffee?’ Patsy asked as she sat down.
It seemed Patsy intended to stay for a while so any chance of looking at Arthur’s leg would have to wait. ‘Yes, of course. Do you want a coffee too, Arthur?’
‘No,’ he said shortly.
At his tone, Patsy’s eyes met hers, but Sally just shrugged before leaving the room. She returned to find that for the next two hours all Arthur’s attention was focused on their neighbour, his eyes frequently straying to the yards of leg Patsy had on show again.
Unable to help feeling jealous, Sally rose to her feet, and picking up the cups she marched into the kitchen.
Pasty smiled as Sally walked out of the room, the stupid cow playing right into her hands. As she had told Joe, there were plenty of fish in the sea, and from what she’d seen, this one was definitely ready to be caught. Joe may have slipped from her fingers, but she’d make sure that Arthur didn’t. He was a good- looking bloke, tall, with a bear-like build and his missing lower leg didn’t bother her. She was more interested in the money he was going to make from the building game and the good life that would be on offer. Patsy crossed her legs, making sure that Arthur got a good view, and smiled when she saw his eyes darken with lust.
‘Do you like what you see?’ she quietly asked.
‘Who wouldn’t?’
‘Joe for one,’ she said.
‘He must be blind.’
‘Who must be blind?’ Sally asked, as she came back into the room, her back rigid.
‘Arthur’s talking about Joe.’
‘I see,’ Sally said stiffly, then affecting a wide yawn.
‘I should go,’ Patsy said, saying goodbye prettily to Arthur. ‘It’s time for my beauty sleep.’
‘You don’t need it, but bye for now,’ Arthur called.
As Sally walked with her to the street door, Patsy could see that she was annoyed. She didn’t want to alienate her yet, not while she still needed time and access to work on Arthur. ‘Sally, I hope you haven’t got hold of the wrong idea. I could see that Arthur was a bit down in the dumps and there’s nothing like a bit of harmless flirting to cheer a man up. It can’t be much fun for you when he’s in that sort of mood and I was just trying to help.’
‘Oh, I see,’ Sally said. ‘I feel silly now. I was actually jealous.’
‘Really? That makes me feel awful.’
‘It’s all right. Now that you’ve explained I’m fine about it.’
‘Thank goodness for that, after all, I wouldn’t want to lose my new-found friend.’
‘You haven’t,’ Sally said. ‘In fact I should thank you for trying to help.’
What a mug, Patsy thought as she went up to her flat. Taking Arthur from Sally would be like taking candy from a baby.
Sally was feeling a lot better as she closed the door. She hadn’t liked the way Patsy had flirted with Arthur, but knew now that it had been harmless.
‘I’m going to bed,’ Arthur said as soon as Sally went back to the living room, wincing with pain as he gripped his cane tightly.
Determined to check his stump, Sally was about to follow him when an awful premonition washed over her. Something was going to happen, something dreadful. Other than his stump, Arthur was fine, and panicking now she rushed to the telephone.
Sally’s fingers trembled as she dialled her mother’s number, her voice high as she said, ‘Mum, it’s me. Is Gran all right?’
‘Yeah, and we’re just off to bed. What is it? Have you had one of those funny feelings again?’
‘Yes, so keep an eye on her, Mum.’
‘All right. See you in the morning, love.’
Sally replaced the receiver, finding that despite her mother’s reassurance, the awful feeling remained with her. Sick with worry she turned the lights off and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. In their bedroom the lights were off and she whispered, ‘Are you asleep, Arthur?’
There was no reply and with his stump so sore she got into bed, careful to keep a distance between them. Sally lay on her back, the feeling of foreboding still with her as her eyes closed on a prayer for all those she loved.
Ruth was sitting on the sofa beside Tommy, the boy sound asleep now. She was fuming. It was bad enough that Laura was back on the booze and the boy unfed, but tonight he had turned up with bruises on his face. She’d been ready to go round to have it out with Laura, but Tommy had insisted that he’d got into a fight with a rival gang.
Ruth stroked Tommy’s hair. She had grown so fond of him, wanted to keep him safe, but if she made waves with the authorities they’d just take him from Laura and put him in a home.
Her thoughts turned to Sally and the earlier telephone call. She had to admit to being a bit worried, especially as nine times out of ten Sally’s premonitions turned out to be right. Her mother had been fine when she went to bed, but deciding to check on her, Ruth went to her room and quietly opened the door.
‘Bugger off. I ain’t dead yet.’
‘Oh, Mum.’
‘Look, I’m all right, now go and get some sleep.’
‘Tommy’s still here.’
‘If you keep this up, Laura will find out and then there’ll be trouble.’
‘If she doesn’t keep her hands off of Tommy, the trouble will be from me. Goodnight, Mum,’ Ruth said, leaving the door slightly ajar.
She wasn’t going to wake Tommy, he could stay where he was for the night and she’d doze beside him on the sofa, close to her mother’s room in case she was needed.
Chapter Thirty
Arthur had been uncommunicative again the next morning, yet as always he was fine with Angel. He hadn’t yet put on his pros- thesis, and worriedly, Sally asked, ‘Is your stump still sore?’
‘Yes,’ he said curtly.
Angel went into nurse mode again, demanding he took his medicine, and at least her constant chatter made the strained atmosphere a little more bearable.
Sally thought about her premonition as they walked to Candle Lane, surprised to find Tommy there, her mother telling her on an aside that the boy had stayed the night.
‘Tommy,’ Angel said, running up to him. ‘My daddy’s got a false leg.’
‘Blimey, what’s it made of ?’
‘I dunno.’
&nbs
p; ‘I should fink it’s made out of wood,’ Tommy said. ‘You can carve wood into all sorts of shapes.’
‘You’re clever, Tommy. I wouldn’t have thought of that,’ Angel told him.
His little chest puffed with pride, but then they all heard someone thumping loudly on the front door. ‘Who the flaming hell is that?’ Sadie complained.
‘Tommy!’ a voice yelled. ‘I know you’re in there and I’ll give you five minutes to come home or else.’
‘I’d best go,’ Tommy whispered.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Ruth said.
‘No, don’t. I’ll be all right. She’s all talk when she’s sober.’
‘Oh, love,’ Ruth whispered sadly, but once the boy had gone she became all hustle and bustle, soon leaving for work.
‘Mum looked tired, Gran.’
‘Yeah, well, she spent the night on the sofa.’
‘It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have rung her, but I was worried about you.’
‘Sally, you’ve got to stop this. I keep telling you I’m fine, but you just don’t listen. I really don’t need looking after any more.’
‘Does the doctor agree?’
‘Well, no, but you shouldn’t take any notice of him.’
‘Gran, I’ve told you before. When he gives you the all clear I’ll stop coming round, but until then you’ll just have to put up with me.’
‘You’re as stubborn as your mother.’
‘Yes, but where do we get it from?’ Sally asked.
The morning passed, and Sally was surprised when her mother came home at twelve-thirty. ‘Mum, what’s wrong?’
‘I’m just tired that’s all, and I must look a bit rough ’cos old misery guts agreed to let me have the afternoon off.’
‘Yes, you are a bit pale and dark under the eyes.’
‘A bit of smudged mascara goes a long way,’ she said, sitting down to spit on a hanky and rubbing the dark rings away, ‘and I always look a bit washed out without any lipstick.’
‘Mum!’
‘Don’t look at me like that. Faking it is hardly the crime of the century and to be honest I really am bushed.’