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Kitty Neale 3 Book Bundle

Page 68

by Kitty Neale


  ‘Hello, Lucy,’ Pearl said. ‘How is Bessie?’

  ‘Her chest seems really bad and she insisted that I ring you.’

  ‘She’s probably got bronchitis again,’ Pearl said, thinking that despite it looking a bit washed out and home made, Lucy looked nice in a floor-length, high-necked, Laura-Ashley-style floral dress. Her hair was a halo of frizzy blonde Afro curls, the result of a home perm, yet they framed her pretty, delicate features and the style suited her.

  ‘I sent Nora along to the chemist to pick up Bessie’s medicine,’ Lucy said. ‘I think she can manage that.’

  ‘Yes, of course she can,’ Pearl assured. Bessie had taken Nora in many years ago, and though mentally slow, there were things she could cope with. ‘I’d best go up, Lucy, but I’ll have a chat with you again before I leave.’

  As a customer came in Pearl went through to the back of the shop and climbed the stairs. She passed the first floor where there was a living room, kitchen, bathroom and Nora’s bedroom, going on up to the top floor where she walked into Bessie’s room.

  It was dim with the heavy, dark blue curtains partially drawn, but Pearl could just about make out that Bessie was propped up in bed on a pile of pillows. Her grey hair, though short, was untidy and her face lined with wrinkles. ‘Are you awake?’ Pearl asked softly.

  ‘Yes, and it’s about time you got here,’ Bessie croaked. ‘I’ve got to be dying before you come to see me.’

  Pearl felt a twinge of guilt. Though she hadn’t lived with her for long, they had grown close and Bessie would always hold a special place in Pearl’s heart. When she had moved away from London, Pearl kept in touch with frequent phone calls, and Derek would sometimes pick Bessie and Nora up after visiting his gran and he’d bring them back to Winchester for the afternoon. ‘Bessie, you know why I don’t like coming to Battersea,’ she said. ‘Now tell me, how are you feeling?’

  ‘Rough, but open the curtains so I can get a better look at you,’ Bessie said then coughed painfully.

  Pearl let in some light before drawing a rickety chair close to the bed. ‘You shouldn’t be up here on your own at night. I don’t know why you won’t let Nora sleep in the room next door.’

  ‘Leave it out. She snores like a trooper. Even with the door shut, I’d hear her.’

  ‘Oh, and you don’t?’ Pearl said wryly while rearranging the blankets. ‘Have you seen the doctor?’

  ‘Yes, but a fat lot of good that’s gonna do,’ Bessie croaked when another fit of coughing ended. ‘I think me number’s up this time.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. You’re going to be fine.’

  Despite the reassurance, Nora suddenly gripped Pearl’s hand, saying urgently, ‘I want you to promise that if I don’t pull through, you’ll take care of Nora. Don’t worry, you won’t lose out financially, I’ve seen to that.’

  ‘Of course I’ll look after her, but this is just another bout of bronchitis and it won’t be necessary.’

  ‘Promise me, Pearl. You’ve got to promise me,’ Bessie pleaded.

  ‘All right, I promise,’ Pearl said, thinking that though Bessie was being overdramatic, it might be best to placate her.

  ‘Thanks, love,’ Bessie said, releasing Pearl’s hand and sinking back on her pillows. ‘I can rest easy now.’

  ‘Is this why you wanted to see me?’

  ‘Yes. I don’t suppose John’s with you? The only time I get to see him is when we come to Winchester.’

  ‘You know why I don’t bring him to Battersea.’

  ‘No matter how much you try to hide it, the truth has a way of coming out,’ Bessie warned.

  ‘John is too young to cope with it yet. Maybe when he’s older, but even then it’s going to be an awful shock.’

  ‘I know you regret the day you married Kevin Dolby, and if you remember, I tried to warn you against him,’ Bessie said, but then she doubled up in another fit of coughing.

  ‘Your chest sounds terrible. If you’d stop smoking it would help.’

  ‘After thirteen years of nagging me, you might as well give up. Anyway, I’m nearly eighty years old now and it’s too late.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Of course it isn’t.’

  ‘Bury your head in the sand if you must, but now you’ve promised to take care of Nora it’s eased my mind. You’re settled with Derek, and though you all live with your mother, which isn’t ideal, it’s plain to see how happy you are. Your son is a lovely boy and one of the few people who doesn’t mock Nora.’

  ‘He loves her, Bessie.’

  ‘I know, and she adores him, which is another reason why I know Nora will be fine when you take her on. When I go, you’ll find a box under the bed with my papers in, and when you sort my things out you’ll find a nice little cache of stuff to help you out.’

  ‘I wish you’d stop talking like this.’

  ‘I’m just putting me affairs in order, that’s all. Now enough said, so how about making me a cup of tea?’

  ‘Yes, all right, and can I get you anything to eat?’

  ‘No, thanks, a fag and a cuppa is all I want.’

  ‘Oh, you and your cigarettes,’ Pearl said wearily, sad that all her years of nagging Bessie to stop had come to nothing. She went down to the kitchen, pleased to see it sparkling with cleanliness. Bessie was hopeless when it came to housework, but it was one of the things Nora excelled at. Without even thinking about it Pearl had agreed to take Nora on if anything happened to Bessie, but now she realised that it would pose a rather large problem. They shared her mother’s two bedroom cottage, and with her mother in one of them and John in the other, she and Derek already had to sleep in the front living room. That just left the kitchen, which fortunately was a large one, and a small conservatory which now served as a sitting room. As Pearl was pouring the boiling water into the teapot, Nora appeared. She was short, plump, with a round face and straight, light brown hair. Though her eyes often appeared vacant, Nora was usually cheerful; yet this wasn’t the case now.

  ‘Bessie really bad this time,’ Nora said woefully.

  ‘She’ll be all right,’ Pearl said kindly. ‘You’re doing a wonderful job of looking after her.’

  Looking tearful, Nora shook her head. ‘No, Bessie not get better.’

  Nora’s words sent a shiver along Pearl’s spine, but despite that she managed to sound reassuring. ‘Of course she will. Did the chemist give you her medicine?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, holding it out.

  ‘Good girl, and now you can take it up to her,’ Pearl said as she regained control of her feelings. Like Bessie, Nora had the strange ability to predict the future – but surely she was mistaken this time?

  ‘All right, I give to Bessie,’ Nora agreed.

  As Pearl waited for the tea to brew, she decided that as always Nora was just being overly anxious, as she was every time Bessie got a bout of bronchitis. She wasn’t predicting the future. Bessie would get over it. She always did. She was a tough old bird and would probably live long enough to get a telegram from the Queen.

  Bessie dutifully swallowed her medicine, but she knew there was nothing now that could help. She smiled fondly at Nora, but it did nothing to soothe the girl’s anxiety. Instead Nora looked as she had for the past week, pale and tearful.

  Like her, Nora knew of course, sensed that the end was in sight and Bessie’s heart went out to her. How long had it been since she’d taken the girl in? Girl, no, Nora wasn’t a girl – she was forty-three now and they’d muddled along together for thirteen years.

  With a sigh, Bessie closed her eyes as her mind drifted back to 1957. Both Pearl and Nora had been like waifs and strays then, both needing her sanctuary and help. When Pearl had to get away from the Dolbys she had nowhere else to go, and Bessie recalled how she’d felt compelled to take her in. However, she had also sensed that Pearl wouldn’t be with her for long. On the other hand, as Nora’s mother had been admitted to a home with senile dementia, she had known that taking Nora on would become a permanent arrang
ement.

  Bessie opened her eyes again to look at Nora, forcing a smile to alleviate her fears. It was odd that Nora could predict too, almost as if they were meant to be together, and over the years Nora had become like the daughter that Bessie had never had, a woman who remained like a child, capable of some tasks, yet so vulnerable. There was one thing that Nora feared, and that was change, but Bessie had now taken steps to ensure that all that was familiar to Nora would remain.

  With a croak in her voice, Bessie said, ‘Thanks for fetching my medicine, love.’

  ‘I look after you,’ Nora said gravely.

  ‘You certainly do,’ Bessie agreed as the door was pushed open and Pearl appeared carrying a tray. ‘It’s about time. I thought you’d gone to India to hand-pick the tea leaves.’

  ‘Very funny,’ said Pearl.

  With a small, elfin face, Pearl had a delicate look about her, but Bessie knew she was stronger than she appeared. She was very fond of Pearl, and with no family of her own left Bessie felt there had been no choice – no other way to secure Nora’s future. Even so, she felt a twinge of guilt at the burden she was going to lay on Pearl. Would she agree to the conditions of the will?

  Bessie longed for reassurance, for a glimpse of the future, but her second sight failed her.

  Derek left the old people’s home, pleased to see that his gran was still happy there. At seventy-nine she had women of her own age to talk to and obviously enjoyed joining them in putting the world to rights.

  His gran certainly hadn’t been happy when he married Pearl, and it hadn’t helped that he’d moved to Winchester. Despite all the years that had passed and all his attempts to persuade her, she still stubbornly refused to have anything to do with Pearl, though it didn’t stop her from complaining that she was the only one in the home who couldn’t brag about having great-grandchildren. He’d tried over and over again to tell her that he saw John as his son, but his gran refused to recognise him as such. It saddened Derek that he and Pearl hadn’t had children, but despite the pleasure of trying, it had never happened.

  Battersea High Street was still busy, the market stalls doing a brisk trade, and for a moment Derek envied the costermongers their camaraderie. He had once had a pitch himself and there were a few men he’d known still working the stalls; one of them waved as he got out of the car, but mostly it was strange faces.

  Pearl looked worried as they left Bessie’s and after popping upstairs himself to say hello to the old girl, he understood why. ‘She looked a bit rough, Pearl.’

  ‘I know, and thank goodness for Lucy. She’s been cooking meals for them both, and though Nora manages to do most things for Bessie when she’s ill, she can’t use the telephone. I’ve asked Lucy to ring me again if she thinks I’m needed.’

  ‘Lucy’s a nice girl,’ Derek commented and as always as he drove off he felt a pang at leaving Battersea. He liked Winchester, but this area would always feel like home to him. He knew they would never come back, never live here again … but a man could dream, couldn’t he?

  Chapter Three

  ‘Granddad, what’s really wrong with Gran?’ John asked. ‘I’ve never seen her like that before.’

  Driving the lad back to Winchester, Bernie knew he had to be careful with his words. In the past it had been easy enough to tell John that his gran suffered from headaches for which she took pills, but the lad was growing up now and Bernie doubted he could fob him off with the same story. He decided to tell him the partial truth.

  ‘Your gran had a nervous breakdown from which she never fully recovered,’ he explained. Though of course there’d been more to it than that. Dolly had lost her mind, ranting and raving like a mad woman. It was only the treatment and the pills she had been taking since leaving hospital that kept her on an even keel.

  ‘Was it because my real dad was sent to prison?’ John asked.

  ‘I’m afraid it was partly to blame. Your gran doted on Kevin and it knocked her for six.’

  ‘Poor Gran,’ John murmured.

  ‘Don’t worry. As long as she takes her medication, your gran is fine,’ Bernie assured him. John might be like his father in looks, but he was nothing like him in character. The boy was gentle, caring and it had become clear from an early age that he hated any form of violence. Growing up in Winchester, John had a love of the surrounding countryside, along with animals, wild or tame, and it was something they shared. With this thought, Bernie smiled. He wasn’t sure how Pearl would feel about it, but knew that John would love the gift he had planned. He was looking forward to the boy’s birthday.

  The drive back to Winchester had the same soporific effect it always had on John and Bernie saw that his head was soon nodding. While the boy slept, Bernie reflected on Kevin’s letter and the news he would have to break to Pearl. He doubted she’d be pleased to hear that Kevin was up for parole again. When Pearl married Kevin, Bernie had hated the way that both his son and Dolly had treated her. At times he’d tried to intervene, to make things a little easier for Pearl, and the two of them had grown close.

  ‘Are we nearly there?’ John said sleepily.

  ‘No, we’ve a fair way to go yet,’ Bernie told him, yet a glance showed him that the lad had gone back to sleep already.

  He wondered what effect Kevin’s release would have on John, and doubted it would be a good one. As far as Bernie was concerned, he felt that Kevin should serve his full time: after all, the jeweller that he’d bludgeoned over and over again, leaving the poor sod brain-damaged, was going to suffer for the rest of his life. He also thought that Kevin’s so-called religious conversion was unlikely to be genuine. Even before going to prison, Kevin had never done an honest day’s work. Dolly had funded his idleness, but if his son thought that things were going to be the same when he got out, he was going to be very disappointed.

  Bernie smiled with satisfaction. He handled their money now, but after buying the cottage he knew the rest wouldn’t last forever. Though nervous at first, he’d discovered a talent when it came to investing in the stock market and had gradually quadrupled their savings. Fearful of his luck changing, he’d finally turned his shares into cash and with the interest it was earning, they were comfortably off.

  ‘John, we’re here,’ Bernie now said, gently nudging his grandson.

  John blinked his eyes, then slowly unfurled his limbs to climb out of the car. Bernie followed him to the front door of the small, flat-fronted, terraced house.

  ‘Mum, Dad, we’re back,’ John called as they went into the house.

  Pearl appeared, smiling when she saw them. ‘Bernie, thanks for bringing him home earlier than usual. My mother has no idea that we’re laying on a special tea for her fiftieth birthday and it wouldn’t be the same without John being there.’

  ‘Where is she, Mum?’

  ‘Next door with Tim.’

  ‘Tim?’ Bernie asked, his eyebrows rising.

  ‘Timothy Blake, our next-door neighbour. He hasn’t been the same since his wife died last year and Mum often goes round to keep him company. We got Tim to ask her to pop round when we came back, but it’s still been a mad dash to get everything ready and the table laid. Come and see the cake,’ Pearl invited as she led them through to the kitchen.

  ‘Derek, hello,’ Bernie said and after his greeting was returned he duly admired Emily’s birthday cake.

  ‘I won’t be a minute. I need the bathroom,’ John said, hurrying off.

  Bernie took the opportunity to talk to Pearl and Derek out of the boy’s hearing. ‘Dolly heard from Kevin. He’s … well … he’s up for parole again.’

  ‘Do you think he’ll get it this time?’ Pearl asked worriedly.

  ‘With his so-called religious conversion, Dolly seems to think so.’

  Pearl frowned. ‘What do you mean, so-called conversion?’

  ‘When it comes to Kevin, I’m not as gullible as Dolly, yet she seems convinced it’s genuine,’ Bernie admitted. ‘On her last visit Kevin was even spouting that if he’s ref
used parole again it must be because God has work for him to do within the prison; that his calling might be to help the other inmates. He says if he does get out, he’s going to start up some sort of refuge for alcoholics and homeless people – lost souls as he calls them.’

  ‘Goodness!’ Pearl exclaimed.

  ‘I doubt there’s any goodness involved,’ Bernie said, ‘especially as he was probably hinting for a substantial donation.’

  ‘Do you think he’ll want to see John?’

  ‘I don’t know, love. Dolly seems to think so, but she knows you’ve got sole custody. Mind you, John’s curious about his father and said today that he’d like to see him.’

  Pearl’s face paled. ‘But what if Kevin tries to take John away from me?’

  ‘He’d better not,’ Bernie growled. ‘And anyway, if you tell John the truth about Kevin, he won’t be so keen to see him.’

  ‘No,’ Pearl protested. ‘He’s far too young to cope with it yet.’

  There was the sound of footsteps and John appeared in the doorway, bringing the conversation to an abrupt end.

  ‘Well, lad,’ Bernie said, ‘I’d best be off, and Pearl, tell Emily I said happy birthday. I’m sure she’s going to be thrilled with that cake.’

  ‘Yes, she’ll love it,’ Pearl agreed, ‘and we’re taking her to the theatre tonight.’

  ‘That sounds right up Emily’s street,’ Bernie commented, then said his goodbyes. He was thoughtful as he got into his car. They were a happy family and having lived in Emily’s house since he was a baby, John had only ever known love and stability. If Kevin got out, all that could change, and Bernie found himself again hoping that his son would remain in prison.

 

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