When Night Closes in

by Iris Gower

  It was a pleasant night. The air was still warm and the breeze drifted towards them, fragrant with roses, as they walked the short distance to the Plough and Harrow.

  Sally saw her as a charity case, Lowri thought ruefully, she was doing her good deed for the day by taking Lowri out of herself. Sally was in casual mode tonight, wearing trainers and jeans. She somehow made Lowri feel a hundred years old.

  ‘Your mum’s a classy woman, Lowri,’ Sally said as she pushed open the door of the pub. ‘I bet your father loves her to pieces. Go and sit down while I get us a drink.’

  Lowri chose a corner seat and felt somehow alone in spite of the crowded lounge. She thought about her childhood, about the happy times she enjoyed when Charles was away on business. Those were the times when the large rooms in the Victorian house had been filled with warmth and laughter, which lasted only until Charles came home again.

  To an outsider, it might look as though her mother had everything a woman could want. A sunny home, an easy, pampered lifestyle and plenty of money to spend. But Charles seemed able to put a stop to any happiness and laughter the minute he entered a room. Her stepfather was a fairly successful businessman: he enjoyed finding ways to screw his latest competitor, taking an almost unholy pleasure in the power it gave him.

  When Lowri left home, Charles had predicted she would never make anything of herself. She almost felt she hated him then. But perhaps he was right; she had not come very far in the last few years. She could hardly call working in a solicitor’s office the peak of ambition.

  ‘You’re not sulking, are you?’ Sally’s voice broke into her thoughts and Lowri forced herself to smile.

  ‘No I’m not sulking, I don’t have to talk all the time, do I?’

  ‘Oh excuse me for breathing!’ Sally’s sarcasm was edged with anger.

  ‘Anyway,’ Lowri said, ‘let’s talk about you. Quarrelled with Timmy, have you?’

  Sally made a wry face. ‘He needs to grow up!’

  ‘I’ve got news for you,’ Lowri said, ‘men don’t change, they never grow up.’

  ‘Mind now, mother of the universe,’ Sally said, ‘anyone would think you were a dried-up spinster.’

  ‘Sometimes that’s how I feel.’ They sat in silence for a time and Lowri was aware of Sally fidgeting, looking around for someone to enmesh in more animated conversation.

  ‘Another drink?’ Sally said and Lowri got to her feet at once.

  ‘My round.’ She hated walking up to the bar; it felt strange to her, not quite ladylike somehow. She was probably an anachronism in a world of women who liked to be independent, liked to drink pints as men did, and probably liked using men for sex the way men had always managed to use women. She pulled herself up. She was getting bitter – that would never do.

  The door swung open and a crowd of men came into the bar. They stood around Lowri, one of them shouting to the barmaid to get a move on. She glanced over her shoulder and her colour rose as she realized that Jim Lainey was standing behind her.

  ‘Hi.’ She spoke as naturally as she could. ‘How’s everything?’

  ‘Fine!’ He smiled down at her. ‘You feeling OK?’

  ‘I’m fine, thanks.’

  ‘Look,’ Lainey leaned towards her, ‘I’m off duty, perhaps I could take you home later?’

  ‘I’m sorry, it’s not possible.’

  He turned away at once. ‘All right, no problem.’

  ‘Wait,’ she said quickly, ‘my mother’s visiting, she’s already in bed, I don’t want to wake her.’

  ‘As I said, no problem.’

  She returned to sit with Sally, wishing miserably that she could leave. She looked down at the ruby wine glinting in the lights from overhead and knew she had blown her chances of even a friendship with Jim Lainey.

  ‘Nice-looking guy, that Lainey,’ Sally said. ‘Got his phone number?’

  ‘You don’t miss a trick, do you?’ Lowri said. She got up. ‘Excuse me, I’ve got to powder my nose.’

  As she passed them, one of the men at the bar made a remark that Lowri could not hear and a gust of laughter went up from the rest of the crowd. Lowri stared at herself in the long mirror in the ladies’ room, wondering what she was doing here, wondering what she was doing with her life, come to that.

  She ran the cold water over her wrists. She was becoming impossible to be with, she knew that, but her life had been turned upside down and no-one seemed to realize it.

  When she returned to the lounge, Jim had gone. Sally had gone too and Lowri looked round impatiently.

  ‘Blast Sally!’ Still, she had asked for it, she could hardly blame Sally for taking offence. She picked up her bag and left the bar, walking briskly towards home.

  She was just putting her key in the lock when a figure moved out of the shadows. Lowri stepped back, her heart thumping, her mouth suddenly dry.

  ‘I want a word with you, Miss Richards.’ Sarah Brandon was dressed all in black and, in the pale light of the moon, her face seemed devoid of colour. Somehow, Lowri knew that her appearance on the doorstep meant trouble. She glanced behind her but all she could see were the tail-lights of a car disappearing into the distance. The small street was deserted.

  ‘I’m rather tired, Mrs Brandon.’

  ‘This won’t take very long and I mean to talk to you if I have to stand outside your door all night.’

  There was an edge of hysteria in Sarah’s voice that filled Lowri with a sense of foreboding. She knew that what she was about to hear would not be good news. She switched on the light and held the door wide. ‘You’d better come inside,’ she said.

  5

  Sarah Brandon looked out of place in the small lounge, her elegantly painted fingernails resting on an expensive leather handbag. Her feet were tucked under the chair, as though there was not enough room to accommodate her long legs.

  ‘It’s rather late, please keep your voice down, my mother is in bed,’ Lowri said. ‘What can I do for you, is it about the lease on Plunch Lane?’

  ‘You could say that.’ Sarah’s voice sounded strange. ‘It’s about the time when you were there, in early spring it must have been.’ Her large eyes were narrowed. She appeared like a cat about to pounce on an unwary mouse.

  Sarah paused as if to examine one of her fingers and Lowri saw the glint of a gold wedding ring. ‘I found a photograph, you see.’ She paused as though to take a breath. ‘You were naked, abandoned. It was quite obvious from the photograph that you had just been making love to my husband.’

  Lowri felt as though she had been slapped in the face. She ran her fingers through her hair, not sure what to say. There was no point in denying it; the photograph was proof enough.

  ‘Where did you find it?’ she asked.

  ‘That’s not important.’ Sarah’s tone was icy.

  ‘It is to me,’ Lowri said.

  ‘That’s just too bad! Now, how long has this affair been going on?’

  ‘Look!’ Lowri was aware of the anger in her voice but there was little point in trying to hide how she felt. ‘I’ve been going out with Jon for almost six months. It wasn’t just a cheap affair, far from it, I thought he loved me.’ She was near to tears. ‘So don’t you dare come here attacking me in my own home! None of this is my fault. I have done nothing wrong, get that into your head once and for all, Mrs Brandon.’

  ‘Nothing wrong?’ Sarah’s voice rose. ‘You sleep with my husband in my bed and leave your stink on my sheets. You call that nothing wrong? What sort of woman are you?’

  Lowri’s small rush of anger faded. ‘I’m the gullible sort.’ She looked across at Sarah. ‘I didn’t know he was married.’

  ‘Don’t lie!’ Sarah’s eyes were blazing. ‘You might say you’re gullible but I am not. You slept with Jon, time and time again. How many times, Miss Richards, or are they too many to count?’

  Lowri shook her head, crushed with guilt in the face of Sarah’s pain. But Sarah went on relentlessly.

  ‘You spent that last w
eekend with him at the Swan, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘And he’s never been seen since. What happened, did you have a row, did he walk out on you?’

  Lowri rubbed her eyes. ‘I don’t know what happened.’ She felt beaten. ‘He just vanished from the hotel. It’s as if he never existed.’

  ‘I loved him so much,’ Sarah said in a low voice. ‘But you are the last straw, I could never live with Jon now, not after this.’

  Lowri was silent. How could she defend herself? Why had she been so unquestioning, so trusting? She believed she would marry Jon so why had she learned so little about him?

  Sarah rose to her feet and Lowri stood up too. Sarah surveyed her up and down and Lowri was aware that she must look a wreck. Even now, as the injured wife, Sarah managed to appear composed and beautiful.

  ‘What happened to him?’ Sarah asked in a cold voice. ‘That night in the hotel, did he tell you it was all over? Did you kill him rather than let him leave you?’

  ‘Don’t be absurd!’ Lowri shook her head. ‘I don’t know what happened. I fell asleep on the balcony – I was listening to music. I just don’t know anything, I wish to God I did!’

  ‘He’d had sex with you by then, of course.’ Sarah’s voice was like a lancet, picking away at a wound. ‘He was good at that. I know how good, I had the benefit of his libido for some years before he found me too dull, too unadventurous in bed.’

  She smiled thinly. ‘He must have enjoyed you very much to stick with you so long but remember this, what he really enjoyed was punishing me. He slept with you as a little diversion, you were never important to him, just understand that.’

  ‘I understand,’ Lowri said emptily.

  ‘He couldn’t be faithful to me so I’m sure he wouldn’t be faithful to a trollop like you! You were just one of many.’ Sarah paused and peered closely at Lowri.

  ‘Have you asked that girl, that bottle-blonde tart Sally White, if she slept with Jon? Because I would put my last penny on it that she did.’ She shook her head. ‘If it moved, he’d take it to bed.’

  ‘Please! Leave me alone.’ Lowri put her hands to her cheeks – they were burning. ‘Look, I’m tired, will you just go, please?’

  ‘So you’re tired are you? Poor soul. Well, I’m devastated. I’ve lost my husband, he’s maybe dead or lying somewhere injured and you, you pretend to know nothing about it all. Do you think I’m stupid?’

  Sarah gritted her teeth, her face was suffused with colour and Lowri thought for a moment that she might attack her. But Sarah made an effort to regain control.

  ‘You are disgusting, do you know that?’

  It was pointless trying to explain that Jon was a convincing liar, that she had really believed that he was free to marry her. What married man out for a fling took his mistress to his home, even if it was a holiday cottage? But perhaps Sarah was right and Jon’s main aim in life was to punish his wife, to taunt her with his other women.

  ‘Just go!’ she said. Her brain felt scrambled, her emotions fluctuating between anger and despair. ‘I can’t deal with this, not now.’

  Sarah pushed her face closer, her eyes seeming to pierce Lowri’s skull. ‘You’ll have more to deal with before I’ve finished with you, madam.’

  She walked to the door and glanced back, and the hate in her eyes was frightening. ‘You wouldn’t have lasted much longer with him. Look at you, skin and bone, bags under your eyes. You were getting too old, my dear.’

  She put her hand on the front-door catch. ‘I’ve been watching you, you’ve found another fool to take you out. You didn’t let any grass grow under your feet, did you?’ She paused, a thin smile barely touching her lips. ‘I saw you, in the pub with him. He just picked you up at the bar, did he? Well, enjoy it while you may but I think you’ll find it a slippery road to ruin from here on in, Miss Richards. I am not a woman you would want as an enemy, believe me.’

  She walked outside, leaving the door open. As Lowri slammed it shut, her heart was thumping. The woman was deranged; there was no way of reasoning with her. But then would any wronged wife want to listen to excuses made by the other woman, especially when the excuses were so bizarre?

  Lowri went into the kitchen and switched on the kettle. Was she going mad – had she imagined the love in Jon’s eyes, the tenderness in his touch?

  She made tea and her hands trembled as she lifted the cup. She felt tears constrict her throat and swallowed painfully. What was happening to her? She was losing control; she was being swept this way and that. Suddenly, she wished that Jim Lainey, with his kindness, his reassuring presence, was here with her.

  Before she went to bed, she took great care locking up; her nerves were on edge, her heart still beating unnaturally fast. She carried her tea into the bedroom and switched on all the lights. She put down the cup; perhaps she should check on her mother. Maybe she had been disturbed by Sarah’s angry voice.

  Her mother was asleep curled into a ball, half hidden under the bedclothes. Beside her on the table was a bottle of sleeping-pills.

  Lowri’s face softened. Her mother looked so young in sleep, so vulnerable. She did not deserve the treatment meted out to her by her husband. Lowri picked up the bottle and took out a tablet. She needed to sleep, needed to forget all about Jon Brandon and his crazy wife. Quietly, she closed the door and went into her own room.

  Lowri sat at her desk feeling weary, defeated. Her mother had reacted to an irate phone call from Charles and had rushed back home, and even at the last minute Lowri wondered if she should talk to her about Jon. In the end she said nothing; her mother had enough to cope with.

  ‘I feel my life is disintegrating into one huge mess, Sal.’ She closed her eyes, resting her head in her hands.

  ‘I can see you’re off colour,’ Sally said. ‘Time of the month, is it? I’ll make you a nice cup of coffee now.’

  Lowri rose to her feet, filled with the need to do something, anything. ‘No thanks.’ She felt suddenly charged with energy. ‘I’m going to drive down to the Swan. Perhaps one of the staff might have seen Jon leave.’ She smiled grimly. ‘At least I can find out if he’s been there again with another girlfriend.’

  ‘No, don’t go!’ Sally said. Lowri looked at her in surprise.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Well, what about Mr Watson?’ Sally asked. ‘He’ll get fed up of you taking time off work.’

  ‘No, he won’t.’ Lowri smiled. ‘You’ve said yourself, he thinks I’m wonderful.’

  ‘Wait, Lowri, do you really think this is a good idea?’ Sally seemed agitated. ‘I don’t want you to throw away your job here, I’d be lost without you.’

  ‘That’s very touching, Sal, but it won’t come to that.’ She sighed. ‘I have to do something, I just can’t sit around twiddling my thumbs. Jon must have gone somewhere and someone must have seen him leave. I won’t be too long.’

  Lowri left the office and walked round to the back of the building to pick up the Mazda. As she slipped into the driving seat, she hesitated: could she face going back to the hotel? She started the car; she was going and that was that.

  Even if the police were any nearer to finding out where Jon had gone, they were keeping quiet about it. She would have to try to discover for herself the truth about Jon Brandon and his vanishing act.

  The roads were busy and the drive to the hotel took longer than she had anticipated. By the time she got there, Lowri was hot and uncomfortable. Sally was right about one thing: it was that time of the month.

  She turned into the gravelled courtyard and drew the car to a halt, pulling on the handbrake. She climbed out and looked up at the fine old building, wondering at the secrets hidden behind the many windows. Had Jon met another woman that night? Had a more tempting offer come along? Perhaps she would never know.

  She looked up at the hotel again; would anyone there recognize her? Perhaps it would be just as well to hide her identity for a while. Casual, seemingly innocent enquiries usually ca
ught people off guard. She put on her sunglasses and then moved around to the back of the car and opened the boot.

  A scarf decorated with white stars against a sharp blue background lay in a pool of silk and shadow. Lowri picked it up. Sally must have left it there when she and Lowri had gone to see a prospective client a few days ago.

  Lowri tied it around her short hair and with the large sunglasses covering most of her face, she would pass, she decided. In any case, she and Jon had only been there once, for one night. It was doubtful anyone would remember her.

  The receptionist was busy writing; she glanced up at Lowri without curiosity. ‘Be with you in a minute,’ she said. Lowri did not recognize her; the girl was young, very pretty. Just the type Jon Brandon would go for, according to his wife.

  ‘Now, madam, how can I help?’ The girl looked up and smiled suddenly. ‘Oh, hello, I remember you, you’ve been here before, haven’t you?’

  Lowri nodded. ‘Lowri Richards. I came here with my boyfriend Jon, Jon Brandon.’

  ‘What I remember, actually, is your scarf, it’s so distinctive,’ the girl said. ‘Of course I only saw you from the back or I would have recognized your face right away. I’m good on faces.’

  Lowri swallowed hard. ‘Do you remember the man I was with?’

  The receptionist smiled. ‘I do, he was very dishy as it happens. He turned and winked at me, some looker.’

  ‘That’s right, he is dishy isn’t he?’ Lowri hesitated. ‘Could I look round the room, do you think?’ She smiled. ‘I know the place has probably been cleaned since I was here but I lost an earring. It’s just possible I might find it there. Room 101 I think it was.’

  ‘I don’t see any harm in that.’ The receptionist consulted the register. ‘You’re in luck, number 101, the one with the balcony and it’s free. Here, take my key, but promise you won’t pinch the towels!’

  ‘I promise.’ Lowri smiled. ‘Sometimes my sister borrows my scarf, it might have been Sally you saw.’ She sighed. ‘I have been wondering if she’s got her eye on my fella.’