Kitty Neale 3 Book Bundle

by Kitty Neale

  At five thirty, Emily clapped her hands with delight. ‘Oh, look, Tim, it’s such a beautiful cake.’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Tim agreed as he held out a chair ready for her to sit down.

  The cake was in the centre of the table, and there were cucumber sandwiches, tiny rolls stuffed with tuna, some with egg, and lovely home-made biscuits. Emily smiled as she looked around the table. Her friends, Libby Moore and her husband, were smiling back, her gorgeous grandson too, and of course Derek and Pearl. From the day she had found her daughter again, Emily’s life had been full of joy. They had lived together for thirteen years now and were very close, with Derek moving in too when he married Pearl. They had been happy years, yet it still hurt Emily that she had missed so much of Pearl’s childhood.

  Emily would never forget how furious her father had been when she had become pregnant out of wedlock. She had been kept a virtual prisoner in her parents’ large house, out of sight of anyone, and when she had given birth she was heartbroken to be told her baby was stillborn. Many, many, years later, when her father was on his deathbed, he had taken great delight in telling her that she would inherit nothing. He had then confessed that her baby hadn’t been stillborn after all, that she had lived, and he’d abandoned her on the steps of an orphanage. Her baby had been found clutching a tiny button, and with no other form of identification that was how she’d been named: Pearl Button, though of course she was now Pearl Lewis.

  Derek laughed at something Pearl said, breaking Emily out of her reverie. She hadn’t been sure about Derek at first. She had heard all about Pearl’s first husband, Kevin Dolby, and Emily feared that as the two men had known each other, Derek would be cut from the same cloth. Thankfully she’d been wrong: Derek was a wonderful man and she’d become very fond of him.

  ‘Happy birthday, Gran,’ said John as he held out a package.

  Emily unwrapped the gift, loving the pretty box of handkerchiefs with lace edging and her initials embroidered in one corner. ‘Thank you, darling. They’re beautiful.’

  ‘This is from us, Mum.’

  In the small box, Emily was thrilled to find a delicate gold chain hung with a pretty pearl locket. ‘I just love it,’ she said, smiling with happiness.

  ‘Emily, I’m so sorry,’ Tim said softly, obviously embarrassed. ‘I haven’t got you a gift.’

  ‘It really doesn’t matter,’ she told him, just glad to have him there. She had been friends with Delia, Tim’s late wife, and had always been fond of them both. Tim had been lost when Delia died, but just recently Emily’s platonic friendship with him had slowly begun to develop into something more. Of course he was still grieving and it was far too soon to take things any further, but maybe, in the future … just maybe …

  Chapter Four

  Derek awoke earlier than usual on Friday. Careful not to wake Pearl, he climbed out of bed, shivering as he threw on his dressing gown before making his way to the kitchen. It was still cold, but perhaps next month they’d see a decent rise in the temperature. He lit the fire, and then placed the kettle on the gas stove, unable to stop his thoughts turning to Kevin Dolby. There had been no news from Bernie about the parole hearing, and with any luck that meant he’d been turned down.

  ‘I thought I’d be the first one up this morning.’

  Derek turned to smile fondly at Emily. ‘We’re both early birds then,’ he said, struck as always by her tiny, birdlike appearance. Some people assumed that Emily was frail, yet although she had angina, she hadn’t had a bad attack for many years. He’d heard all the jokes about mothers-in-law, but none applied to his relationship with Emily. From the day he’d married Pearl and moved in, Emily had given them plenty of space, even using her bedroom as a sort of sitting room too, with a couple of chairs on each side of a small fireplace, along with a radio and television. They’d protested, but Emily insisted that she liked it that way and it meant that she could watch the TV programmes she preferred.

  ‘I see you’re making a pot of tea,’ Emily said.

  ‘Yes, it won’t be long now.’

  ‘I’ll take over if you like,’ she offered.

  ‘Thanks. I’ll go and get ready for work while it’s brewing,’ Derek said. As he went up to the bathroom his thoughts returned to their living arrangements.

  Even now, when Emily wasn’t next door with Tim, she spent most of her evenings in her room, watching programmes like All Creatures Great and Small, while Derek preferred The Sweeney. It was a good choice of title for the police series – Sweeney Todd, slang for the flying squad. Over the years Derek had suggested that they find a place of their own to rent, but somehow it never happened, both Pearl and her mother happy to keep things the way they were.

  Derek hadn’t found moving to Winchester easy. He’d managed a boxing gym in Battersea, but a similar role had been impossible to find here. With no other skills, or choice, he’d started out as a painter and decorator’s labourer, but he’d learned quickly and his capabilities increased until he became proficient enough to start out on his own. He didn’t make a fortune, his jobs only small ones, but he was working for himself and preferred it that way. Recently though, he’d quoted for a job on a housing development, a big one with a great profit margin, and now his shoulders straightened. If it came off they would have a deposit, a chance to buy a house. Surely Pearl would love that?

  After taking Clive to school, Lucy was now at the shop. She switched on the lights and then went through the back to the bottom of the stairs. ‘Nora, it’s me,’ she called. ‘I’m just going to open up.’

  All was quiet and, worried, Lucy shouted again, ‘Nora! Nora, are you there?’

  There was still no answer and, seriously concerned now, Lucy hurried upstairs. Nora was usually up by now and would have managed to prepare a simple breakfast of cereals for herself and Bessie.

  Lucy looked in Nora’s room, but the bed hadn’t been slept in. She went up to the next floor and to her relief saw that Nora was there in Bessie’s room, sitting in a chair, bent double with her head resting on the bed, fast asleep.

  The bedside lamp was still lit, and as Lucy crept forward she gasped. Like Nora, Bessie was asleep but she looked awful, her breathing shallow and wheezing. Lucy floundered, unsure what to do, but just then Bessie’s eyes fluttered open, and she struggled to sit up.

  ‘Here, let me help you,’ Lucy cried.

  Nora awoke, her eyes cloudy with confusion for a moment, but when she saw Lucy trying to help Bessie, she joined in, plumping the pillows and putting them behind Bessie’s back. It didn’t seem to help and Bessie’s breathing was still ragged.

  ‘She really bad now,’ Nora wailed, her eyes filling with tears.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’m going to call the doctor,’ Lucy replied as calmly as she could.

  ‘No … No …’ Bessie managed to gasp. ‘I … I’ll be all right.’

  ‘You don’t look all right.’

  ‘Med … medicine.’

  Nora poured it. After swallowing a spoonful, Bessie seemed to start breathing a little easier and asked for a cup of tea. Lucy still wasn’t sure, but as she stood looking down on her, Bessie said with more strength in her voice, ‘I’m fine and don’t you dare bother the doctor.’

  Lucy knew better than to argue, but she wasn’t happy as she went back downstairs to make the tea. Bessie refused food, but Nora ate her cornflakes, though she remained sitting by Bessie’s side.

  ‘We’re fine,’ the old woman said. ‘Go and open the shop.’

  Lucy thought Bessie looked a bit better, but decided she’d look in on her again in an hour or two. If there was no further improvement by then she was going to ring the doctor – whether the old woman liked it or not.

  For Pearl, the weekday morning followed the usual routine. She made breakfast, Derek left for work and then John went to school. Her mother taught art in a local primary and had already left; the house now quiet as Pearl did a little housework before taking a break. While sipping a cup of coffee she let her
gaze rest on one of her mother’s paintings that hung on the wall above the fireplace. Her choice of pastels was restful to the eye, the scene a cottage window dressed with soft, blue, gingham curtains and a toning vase of cottage garden flowers on a windowsill.

  Pearl had always loved painting. She had inherited her mother’s talent but what with housework, cooking, and a part-time job in a chemist, her days were full. There had once been a time when Pearl had dreamed of being an artist, of her paintings being shown in an exhibition, but those dreams had long been put aside in favour of being a wife and mother.

  Though she hadn’t wanted to think about him, the news of Kevin’s possible parole loomed heavy in her mind. The things he’d done, his violence, had sickened her, yet there was no denying that from the moment John had been born, Kevin had loved him. At his own insistence, Kevin hadn’t seen John while he was in prison, but Pearl felt he would want to see him when he was released. Her stomach lurched as the same fears made her hands tremble. What if he tried to take John away from her? He was certainly capable of doing that.

  Her thoughts were cut off by the ringing of the telephone. It was Lucy.

  ‘Pearl, despite Bessie insisting that she’s fine, she’s getting worse. I know she’ll do her nut, but I want to call the doctor. What do you think?’

  Frowning worriedly, Pearl asked, ‘Has she got a fever?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so and as I said, Bessie insists she’s fine. It’s just that her breathing is really bad.’

  ‘In that case, call the doctor.’

  ‘All right then. I just hope she doesn’t have a go at me.’

  ‘Bessie’s bark has always been worse than her bite, but if you like, tell her it was my idea.’

  ‘Thanks, Pearl. I’ll give that a try.’

  ‘There’s no need to thank me. I’m just glad you’re there to keep an eye on her. I’ve got to go to work soon, but I’ll give you a call as soon as I come home.’

  ‘Right, I’ll speak to you again then,’ Lucy said, saying goodbye before hanging up.

  Pearl could just imagine Bessie’s reaction when the doctor walked in. Poor Lucy, she was right and fur would probably fly. She put on her white nylon overall, something the chemist insisted all the staff wear, and with Bessie on her mind, all thoughts of Kevin were put to one side. There was no news of his parole so perhaps it had been denied and she was worrying about nothing.

  Pearl enjoyed her part-time job at the chemist’s but today the hours seemed to drag. At last she was on her way again and on arriving home she immediately went to the telephone. The news was reassuring. Lucy told her that the doctor hadn’t seemed overly worried, but he had put Bessie on a stronger dose of antibiotics.

  Pearl at last relaxed, and after telling Lucy that they’d drive down to see Bessie on Sunday, she replaced the receiver, flooded with relief.

  Chapter Five

  Pearl liked Saturday mornings and she woke up at seven to stretch out leisurely. Now she knew that Bessie had seen the doctor there was no rush to get up, but she’d ring the shop when Lucy arrived soon after nine to make sure that all was still well. She snuggled close to Derek, enjoying the warmth of his body. She had expected him to go to work, but he had just finished a decorating job and was obviously in no hurry to get up either as he gathered her into his arms.

  ‘Morning,’ he said, kissing the tip of her nose.

  ‘Good morning to you too,’ she said.

  ‘Does this mean what I think?’ he said, aware of the signals after so many years of marriage.

  She silenced him with a kiss, and for a while they took pleasure in each other’s bodies, tenderly at first, but then with growing passion, until at last, pink with pleasure, Pearl lay satiated.

  ‘I suppose you want me to make you a cup of tea now?’ Derek said, smiling.

  ‘That sounds nice, but I think I’ll get up.’

  They took it in turns to scoot up to the bathroom and when dressed they walked into the kitchen. Pearl wasn’t surprised to see her mother. She was always an early riser and for the next hour they sat over a leisurely breakfast, and the morning newspapers.

  ‘Pearl, I’m going out to look for a pair of shoes,’ Emily said. ‘Do you fancy coming with me?’

  ‘’Yes, all right, but before we go out I want to ring Lucy to see how Bessie is this morning.’

  ‘Fine, darling,’ Emily said, smiling, ‘and in the meantime I’ll get ready.’

  ‘Emily, didn’t you buy a new pair of shoes a few weeks ago?’ Derek asked.

  ‘Yes, but they were brown. I need black ones this time.’

  ‘What is it with women and shoes?’

  ‘What is it with men and wood?’ Pearl countered. ‘The shed’s full of odd bits and pieces.’

  ‘You never know when they might come in handy.’

  Emily chuckled as she left the room, saying, ‘You can’t win, Pearl.’

  ‘I’ll just clear up before calling Lucy,’ Pearl told Derek as she took their cups and plates to the sink. ‘I doubt John will surface before we leave.’

  ‘I’ll sort his breakfast out when he does,’ Derek offered.

  ‘Thanks, love,’ Pearl said, her hands immersed in water when the telephone rang.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ Derek said.

  Pearl turned to look at Derek when he returned, and something in his expression stilled her. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  ‘Pearl, you’d better sit down.’

  ‘Derek, just tell me.’

  ‘It’s Bessie, love. She … she’s passed away.’

  ‘No! Oh no!’ Pearl cried, her knees giving way. She sank onto a chair then. ‘How? When?’

  ‘She died during the night. Lucy found her this morning.’

  Pearl stared up at Derek in dismay. She couldn’t take it in. Bessie! Bessie dead! No, it couldn’t be true.

  Derek knelt in front of her, his urgent tone penetrating her foggy mind. ‘I know you’re upset, but Lucy needs you. Nora’s in a dreadful state and she can’t cope with her.’

  As Pearl stood up she was struggling to put her thoughts into coherent order and as her mother returned to the kitchen, she cried, ‘Mum, Bessie’s dead and I’ve got to go, but there’s John and …’

  ‘I’m here and he’ll be fine,’ Emily said reassuringly.

  Derek’s tone was urgent. ‘Come on, Pearl. It’ll take us well over an hour to get there and Lucy sounded a bit frantic.’

  Pearl was still feeling utterly dazed and dejected when they arrived at the shop.

  ‘Thank goodness you’re here,’ Lucy cried as soon as she saw them, holding her son close. ‘Nora’s howling has upset Clive and I … I want to take him home.’

  ‘Where is she now?’

  ‘All that wailing must have worn her out and a short while ago she fell asleep in her room.’

  ‘Lucy, what happened?’ Pearl asked.

  ‘I don’t know!’ she cried, but then as Clive flung his arms around her legs, Lucy took a deep breath as though to calm her emotions. Quietly, she continued, ‘As I told you on the telephone yesterday, the doctor didn’t seem worried about Bessie, but when … when I arrived this morning she … she was dead. Oh, Pearl, I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Lucy, it’s all right. You have nothing to be sorry for.’

  ‘I … I panicked when I found her. I called the doctor, but of course it was too late. He … he was very kind, and as I didn’t know what to do, he suggested an undertaker.’

  ‘Kind!’ Pearl cried. ‘He should have shown more concern when he saw Bessie yesterday. He should have had her hospitalised.’

  ‘I don’t think it would have made any difference. The doctor said that Bessie’s heart had failed.’

  ‘So it wasn’t the bronchitis?’

  ‘Not according to the doctor, and as Nora was in such a state, refusing to leave Bessie, he was good enough to ring the undertakers for me while I tried to comfort her. They came to take Bessie’s body away. That’s thei
r address,’ Lucy said, handing Pearl a card. ‘I hope that’s all right.’

  Pearl had managed to hold herself together, but now guilt swamped her. She groaned loudly, ‘Oh, Derek, I should have listened to Nora. She knew this was going to happen.’

  ‘Leave it out, love,’ Derek said gently. ‘Bessie was no spring chicken and she had a good innings.’

  ‘We’re talking about someone’s life, Bessie’s life, not a game of cricket!’

  ‘Mummy, I want to go home,’ Clive wailed.

  The plaintive cry stilled Pearl. Here she was, yelling in front of Lucy’s son and the boy was already upset. ‘Lucy, I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s all right, it’s been a shock for you, for all of us, but I’d best take Clive home,’ she said, though before ushering him out of the door, Lucy whispered to Pearl: ‘Nora went hysterical when the undertaker took Bessie away and I was really worried about her. She might start up again when she wakes up.’

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll see to her,’ Derek assured her.

  Lucy nodded and seeing Lucy’s small, sad wave as she left, Pearl blinked several times, yet nothing could stem the tide of tears as grief overwhelmed her. She sobbed, and as Derek’s arms wrapped around her, she gave vent to her feelings.

  Derek continued to hold Pearl until she was able to pull herself together, then, with a juddering sob, she said, ‘I’d best wake Nora. We’ll need to take her back to Winchester with us and sort out somewhere for her to sleep. I suppose it’ll have to be a camp bed in the conservatory, but it’s hardly ideal.’

  ‘Pearl, what are you talking about? Nora isn’t our responsibility.’

  ‘There isn’t anyone else and anyway, you told Lucy that we’d look after her.’

  ‘Yes, but I didn’t mean taking her home with us. We need to talk to someone, maybe the council welfare department. They’ll need to find her a place in some sort of institution.’

  ‘No, Derek. I promised Bessie I’d take her on.’

  ‘You did what!’ he gasped, appalled.