by Pamela Evans
‘Let’s get on with it then,’ she said to the detective in charge, who told Mick through the megaphone that Patsy was here and wanted to see him. There was no response.
The megaphone was handed to her.
‘I’m coming up to the front door, Mick,’ she said. ‘All I want you to do is open it so I can get in. I just want to talk to you, that is all. Please don’t do anything until we’ve talked. I’m coming to the front door now . . .’
Standing beside the police car with the three children, all Jane could hear was the sharp click of Patsy’s high heels in the silent street as the crowd held their breath.
‘Mick, it’s Patsy,’ she said, pushing the door open and closing it behind her.
‘In here, Pats.’
She went into the living room where he was standing just inside the door with the knife in his hand. His hostage was sitting in an armchair.
‘Oh, Mick,’ she said, with a mixture of reproach and compassion. ‘You’ve got yourself into a right mess this time, haven’t you?’
‘Don’t go on at me, Pats,’ he said, waving the knife.
‘Put that thing down,’ she said. ‘This is me, Patsy. You don’t have to impress me.’
He stared at her blankly and kept hold of the knife.
‘I want to talk to you in private.’ She looked at Giles. ‘No offence.’
‘None taken.’
‘Let him go, Mick, so we can talk on our own,’ she urged.
‘I’m not falling for that one,’ he said. ‘As soon as he’s out, the coppers’ll be in.’
‘They won’t come in here until I tell them to,’ she said. ‘They’ve given me their word.’
‘And you believe ’em?’
‘Yes, I do. They’re only doing their job,’ she said.
‘I’d sooner die than go to prison,’ he told her fiercely.
‘No, you wouldn’t, not really,’ she said. ‘Anyway, what am I gonna do if you die?’
‘You’d get over it,’ he said. ‘You’d soon find someone else.’
‘I wouldn’t want anyone else,’ she protested, perching on the edge of the sofa and trying to look relaxed in the hope of reducing the explosiveness of the situation.
‘ ’Course you would . . . a woman like you.’
‘You’re wrong,’ she said. ‘I know you can never love me in the same way as you love Jane, but we make a good team, you and me. We’re two of a kind . . . a couple of slobs if the truth be told. I’ve been round the block a good few times but I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. God only knows why ’cause you’re nothing but a worry to me. But that’s the way it goes. If you love someone, you have to take the rough with the smooth.’ She turned to Giles. ‘I’m sorry you’re having to hear all this private stuff, Mister, but it can’t be helped as this fool is being so damned awkward and making you stay.’
‘Carry on as though I’m not here,’ he said, moved by the courage and sincerity of this woman who had the looks of a hooker and the heart of an angel.
‘I’ll lose everything again if I get sent down,’ said Mick.
‘Not everything,’ she pointed out. ‘You’ll still have me and I’ll be waiting for you when you come out.’
‘But I’ll have no business . . . no home.’
‘We’ll manage,’ she said. ‘Like I said, we’re a team. We can make a new start. Only you’ll stay the right side of the law in future. I’ll make damned sure of that!’
Mick looked at her: her permed red hair frizzy and dishevelled, her clothes looking like last year’s sale bargains from a market stall. He’d given her no end of money to kit herself out but she’d never bought any decent gear. If she were to become a millionaire, she probably wouldn’t change. Suddenly he didn’t want her to.
‘You wouldn’t want a gaolbird?’
‘Not any gaolbird . . . just you.’
‘Oh, Pats, you’re a daft cow,’ he said affectionately.
‘I might not be much of a catch but I’m right for you, mate, and I think you know that if only you’d let yourself believe it.’
‘My life’s such a mess.’
‘Nothing that can’t be sorted,’ she said in a positive manner. ‘Okay, so you’re gonna have to do time and when you come out there’ll be no posh flat or flashy car. But only when you truly accept that and settle for less will you have any peace of mind. Breaking the law to get those things doesn’t count as success anyway.’
‘If you say so,’ he said dully.
‘We must make the most of what we have, Mick . . . each other. When you’ve done your porridge, we’ll get by. Like I’ve always said, we only need one roof and enough dough to live on. My wages will come in handy until you get back on your feet.’
‘You’re quite a woman . . . do you know that?’
‘And I’m all yours if you’ll have me,’ she said. ‘But for us to have a happy future together you must really accept the fact that your marriage is over. You have to let Jane go. Give her a divorce so you can both start again.’
It took only a second for a lifetime of self-delusion to be stripped away. Mick finally admitted to himself that he was never going to make the big time because he just didn’t have the ability. His first business had existed only because of credit, his second had been built on villainy. With the realisation came pain, but resignation also brought peace. He felt calmer now than he had in a very long time, despite the daunting prospect of prison.
He was ashamed of what he’d done here today: threatening his wife with a knife, frightening his children. He thought of the anguish he’d caused them all at the cottage because of his determination to have something he could now admit he didn’t even want. Family life with Jane and the children wasn’t for him. Not any more.
Putting the knife on the mantelpiece, he sank down on the sofa beside Patsy, sobbing.
‘Oh, Pats, what have I done to you all?’ he said, voice muffled with weeping. ‘I’m so ashamed.’
‘Shush,’ she said, arms around him. ‘It’s over now.’
‘I’ve made Jane’s life a misery by trying to hang on to her,’ he said. ‘And all these years you’ve been there for me, I didn’t appreciate you. I just used you, Pats . . . used you.’
‘Maybe you did. But you’ve been good to me as well,’ she said softly. ‘We’ve had a lot of fun together. And I’ve enjoyed every minute.’
With a lump in his throat, Giles slipped unnoticed from the room. When he emerged from the house, the police went to move in but he gave them a reminder.
‘You made her a promise that you wouldn’t go in there until she gave you the word,’ he told them. ‘There’ll be no trouble, I can promise you that. Just give them a few more minutes together.’
A short time later Mick was taken away in a police car. Patsy blew him a kiss before getting into the police car that was waiting to take her back to Brighton, giving Jane and company a friendly wave as she passed.
One day she might feel able to have a chat with Jane; in time they might even become friends. But right now Patsy needed to go home to Brighton, to be alone to shed her own tears. It really had been one hell of a day!
Chapter Twenty Five
The long heatwave of 1976 was finally over. On the last day of August, rain stopped play at Lords for fifteen minutes, drawing cheers from the crowds and heralding a change in the weather. The rains came, bringing new life to scorched suburban lawns and dispirited vegetation in parks and public gardens.
Life returned to normal so quickly, it was almost as though the continental atmosphere that had prevailed during the summer had never happened. Sunny days were soon forgotten and complaints about the awful British climate once more became the norm.
But on this October Saturday the afternoon was fine and dry as a young girl walked along Brighton pier with an older woman.
‘Your mother doesn’t mind your coming to stay with me for the weekend now and again, then?’ said Patsy.
‘Of course she doesn’t,’ replied Pip
. ‘There’s no reason why she should.’
‘I thought perhaps she might consider me to be a bad influence?’
‘Oh, Patsy,’ said Pip, turning to look at her with a look of friendly reproof. ‘Why on earth would she think that?’
‘With my being a barmaid and living the way I do . . . sort of casual like, especially now I’m in a poky little flat.’
‘Mum isn’t the sort of person to think badly of you because of that.’
‘You don’t get any family life or much in the way of home cooking when you come to stay with me, though, do you?’
‘It’s all part of the fun because it’s so different from home.’ Pip linked arms with her in a companionable manner.
‘Oh, well, so long as you enjoy it.’
‘I do. And Mum thinks it’s a very good idea for us two to see each other while Dad’s in prison,’ she said. ‘As well as the fact that I enjoy our weekends together, she thinks it might help to cheer him up. I know he’s pleased that we’re friends. He mentioned it in one of his letters.’
‘I’m glad of your company,’ said Patsy. ‘It gets awful lonely sometimes, with him being away.’
‘Gran enjoys coming down to Brighton to stay with you too,’ said Pip. ‘She was telling me about it the other day.’
‘Your gran and I get on like a house on fire,’ said Patsy. ‘She’s so full of life! Loves to get out and about, especially to the amusements. If I’m working at the Drake’s, she sits at the bar chatting to people. All the regulars know her.’
‘It’s amazing how much she’s changed,’ said Pip. ‘She never used to go anywhere when Granddad was alive. He was very bossy towards her. Davey and I were scared stiff of him, too.’ She paused thoughtfully. ‘He was really nice to us, though, on the day he died . . . it’s funny that!’
‘He left your gran well provided for, anyway, so at least she can afford a few outings.’
At the end of the pier, they leaned on the rail, looking at the sea. Autumn sunlight shimmered on the water and bathed the distant shoreline with a golden light.
‘Does it upset you when you go to visit my dad?’ asked Pip, staring into the undulating waters. ‘You know . . . seeing him in that awful place?’
‘No, not really,’ said Patsy in a positive tone. ‘It’s all we have for the moment so I look forward to it . . . and I know he does.’
‘I wish he would agree to let me go and visit him.’
‘He feels bad enough about letting you all down by being in prison,’ Patsy replied. ‘Having you see him there would be just too much for Mick to bear. Now that he’s beginning to accept himself as the ordinary bloke he is, he’s really ashamed of the way he’s behaved in the past.’
‘I know . . .’
‘He’s ever so pleased that you write to him, dear,’ said Patsy. ‘He looks forward to your letters. I think he thought he’d lost you forever when you found out he’d not come home as soon as he should have after regaining his memory.’
‘That still hurts but I’ve managed to forgive him,’ said Pip.
‘That’s good.’
‘No point in bearing a grudge.’
‘How about Davey? Do you think he might eventually learn to get along with your dad?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Pip said. ‘He’s always been closer to Mum than to Dad anyway. I think he’ll probably be willing to give Dad a chance when he comes out of prison if he seems determined to go straight. Dad scored some points with Davey for agreeing to a divorce and making Mum happy that way. Now that they’re getting divorced, things will be much easier for us all.’
‘Including me,’ laughed Patsy.
‘Yes, of course,’ agreed Pip. ‘Mum and Uncle Giles are planning to get married as soon as they can,’ she said. ‘They’re really happy together.’
‘And so are your dad and me, so that means everyone is settled.’
Pip’s expression became serious.
‘You don’t have any doubts about taking on someone as complicated as my dad, then?’
‘Not on your life! I’m a match for him any day. I shall make sure he doesn’t stray from the straight and narrow, don’t worry.’
‘Does he have any idea what he’s going to do when he comes out of prison?’
‘Yeah, as a matter of fact we do have a plan,’ said Patsy.
‘Oh?’
‘I’ve suggested that he does some bar work, with the idea of us running a pub together later on,’ Patsy explained. ‘The breweries are always looking for couples to manage their houses.’
‘What a good idea.’
‘It would be perfect for us if we can get it organised. We both have the gift of the gab and I have the experience. I know the pub trade inside out.’
‘Might there be a problem, though . . . you know, with Dad having a criminal record?’
‘That’s possible. But I’ve spoken to my boss at the Drake’s about it and he thinks we’ll be able to swing it so long as it’s all done in my name. I’d have to take the responsibility.’
‘I hope it works out.’
‘Me too.’ Patsy shivered as the chilly sea-breeze blew straight through her clothes to her skin. ‘In the meantime, shall we go and have some tea?’
‘Yes, let’s. I’m famished.’ Pip paused, a shadow passing across her face. ‘But I’d rather not go to the place with the red tables . . . if you don’t mind?’
A silence fell as they remembered that other tea-time that had ended so unhappily.
‘Too many memories, eh?’ said Patsy.
‘Yes.’
‘There’s plenty of other places, dear,’ said the older woman kindly. ‘Places that do equally good ice-cream sundaes.’
‘Thanks, Patsy,’ said Pip, her voice tinged with sadness as she thought of where her father was at this moment.
‘Your dad will be all right,’ said Patsy, sensing what was on the girl’s mind.
‘Will he?’
‘ ’Course he will,’ she said cheerfully. ‘And the time will soon pass. He’s done nearly six months of his sentence already. Only another eighteen months to go.’
‘It seems like forever,’ said Pip.
‘Yeah, it seems a long time to me too,’ said Patsy. ‘But as much as we love him, he’s done wrong and has to be punished.’
‘Of course.’
‘Anyway, dear, his being away gives the two of us the opportunity to really get to know each other.’
‘There is that,’ Pip agreed, and they walked companionably along the pier towards the shore, chatting about other things.
Jane and Giles were both in good spirits that same afternoon as they walked arm-in-arm along the riverside towards Giles’s cottage. With Davey and Kevin on a trip to the Victoria and Albert Museum with the youth club, and Pip in Brighton with Patsy for the weekend, they were making the most of the time alone together. They had been for a quiet lunch at a riverside pub and then for a leisurely stroll by the river in the glorious autumn weather.
‘As much as I adore the children and having them around, it is rather nice to have some time on our own, isn’t it?’ Jane remarked.
‘I’ll say it is,’ Giles agreed heartily. ‘And to take full advantage of the situation, I think I shall make mad passionate love to you when we get back to the cottage.’
‘Love in the afternoon?’ she said with mock disapproval. ‘What would the children say?’
‘Something deeply scathing, I should imagine.’ He grinned.
She untucked her arm and held his hand, looking at him.
‘Seriously, though, Giles, I’m having such a lovely day.’
‘Me too.’
‘It’s so good actually to be together at long last.’
‘Well, almost . . .’
‘It’s only a matter of time now before we make it legal.’
‘Yes, I know.’
They came to the maze of narrow lanes and alleyways surrounding Vine Cottages. Approaching Giles’s place from the front as they were on foot,
they turned into Tug Lane and stopped in their tracks, staring at a new addition to the landscape: a ‘For Sale’ board outside the cottage that had once belonged to Jane.
‘Oh, Giles!’ she said. ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’
‘I’m sure I must be.’
‘We could knock through and make the two cottages into one big house, couldn’t we?’ she said, breathless with excitement.
‘My thoughts exactly,’ he replied eagerly.
‘You’d be able to have a study,’ she said, her thoughts racing.
‘And you’d be able to have a bigger kitchen for your baking,’ he said. ‘You could even have two kitchens if you fancied it. One for business and one for domestic use.’
‘The kids would have more space to entertain their friends . . .’
‘It would also solve the problem of where we are going to live, once and for all.’
Even though they were lovers again, they hadn’t moved in together or decided where their home was to be. Jane thought it might be a bit cramped for them all in Giles’s cottage, especially as she baked on a commercial scale at home. Neither of them fancied setting up home permanently in her rather characterless house in Wilber Road. Matters were further complicated by the fact that they couldn’t bear the idea of Giles giving up his cottage.
Their future home had been the subject of much discussion ever since Mick had agreed to a divorce and Jane and Giles had been gloriously reunited. Having been unable to reach a decision, this estate agent’s board seemed like the answer to a prayer.
‘Shall we go into your place and phone the agent?’ she said, excitedly.
‘Yes, let’s do that.’
An hour later, Jane had made an offer for the cottage, had it accepted and put her own house in Wilber Road on the market.
‘Oh, Giles, isn’t it exciting?’ she said, hugging him.
‘Very.’
‘I just can’t wait to move back in and get the alterations under way,’ she told him, eyes shining. ‘All of us together here at Vine Cottages. Won’t it be great?’