Lydia was trying not to envy the young woman’s evident happiness. ‘That would be interesting. Thank you.’
While Dolly rooted around in a drawer of the sideboard, Lydia tried to remember if Burke was the name of the other man Leonard Phipps had seen. It sounded familiar, but she would check on it later.
‘Here we are!’
Dolly handed over the paper, which did indeed have a seal on the bottom, and Lydia read it with considerable misgivings. Even to her unsophisticated eyes, there was something about the ‘document’ that lacked authenticity. Dolly took it back from her and showed it to George, who stared at it blankly, then shook his head.
Adam said, ‘Ginger likes me. He does, Mama. And I like him.’
Lydia groaned inwardly. She knew what was coming next.
‘May I have a kitten, Mama?’
‘We have to ask Papa.’
‘When will he come home?’
‘I don’t know for sure, Adam, but when he does . . .’ Her voice faltered, and she saw that Dolly was watching her closely. She said, ‘It can get lonely, even with a child and my father.’
A sudden sound from above made Dolly glance upward. ‘Not much chance of being lonely in this house,’ she said. ‘Sidney’s always hanging round. He doesn’t need a proper job because he has private money, and it’s so unfair because Don wasn’t left anything! And then Willis Burke pops in from time to time. They’re like three peas in a bloomin’ pod!’
Unable to wait any longer, Lydia broached the reason for their visit. ‘I wondered if you knew any more about the PSD that used to have an office here. I wrote to my husband here, and he always answered my letters so I know they were coming to the right place.’
Dolly pointed through the front window. ‘Until a few days ago I lived over there with my mother and sister. Number fifteen. That’s how I got friendly with Don, my husband – because we lived opposite. Also, we all went to the same school as young’uns – me and my sister Mavis, and the two Wickham boys. Not Willis Burke, though, because he lived further away and had to go to a different school because he was supposed to be clever and his ma and pa were a bit posh.’ She tilted her nose up with a finger by way of demonstration.
George abandoned his study of the street and, turning, said, ‘We were told by Mr Phipps that you’ve never seen anyone called Daye.’
Lydia blinked in surprise, astonished that he had somehow retained that particular fact.
‘That’s right,’ Dolly agreed, ‘and upstairs there’s only an empty attic which Don says was never a proper office. No proper desks or chairs or cupboards and such. And no staff – not even a secretary.’
Lydia leaned forward. ‘Did letters come from other people for the PSD?’
‘I don’t know. Yours was the only one I’ve ever seen.’
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Lydia felt a dryness in her throat. A man called, ‘Make us a cuppa, Dolly.’
Dolly raised her voice. ‘Can’t. We’ve got visitors come about the PSD. Make it yourself!’ A tousled head appeared round the door, and she said, ‘This here is Syd.’
‘We told the other chap,’ Sidney said angrily. ‘We don’t know anything about an office. Leave us alone, can’t you!’
Lydia cried, ‘But you know you burned the letters that came for Mr Daye. Or that’s what you told Mr Phipps. But you couldn’t have burned them because he answered them! So someone is lying.’ She jumped to her feet. ‘Anyway, if you burned them you broke the law. No one must interfere with the postal service.’
Bewildered once more, George looked from one to the other. ‘Steady on, Lydia! What are you saying? Which letters are we talking about?’
‘John’s letters from me, sent to his place of work!’ Her voice trembled.
Sidney said, ‘For God’s sake get rid of ’em, Dolly,’ and withdrew from the fray leaving an uncomfortable silence behind him.
Lydia looked at Dolly. ‘We’re leaving, but don’t think you’ve heard the last of us.’
Chastened, Dolly hesitated. To Lydia she said, ‘If they are lying, I’m not part of it.’
‘I know you’re not.’ Impulsively, Lydia stepped forward and gave Dolly a brief hug. ‘I don’t blame you,’ she said in a low voice. ‘You take care of yourself, and good luck when the baby arrives.’
Dolly brightened at the mention of her pregnancy. ‘I could write to you if you like and say whether it’s a girl or a boy.’
Oh dear! Lydia began to wish she had not encouraged her, but she forced a smile. ‘That would be nice. If you give me a piece of paper I’ll write down the address. I’ll send you a card of congratulations.’
Dolly brightened at the prospect. ‘I’ll put it on the mantelpiece!’
A few moments later Adam, George and Lydia set off on the first mile of their journey home. George walked in a baffled silence. Adam, the hoop tucked under his arm, stared mournfully ahead, already missing Ginger. Lydia, her spirits lower than ever, was holding back tears of impotent rage.
A fitful moon cast shadows across the landing that night as George crept from his room. He was still in his pyjamas and slippers, and he made no sound as he reached Adam’s room and gently turned the door handle. The boy lay fast asleep, soft muffled sounds coming from beneath the blanket which he had pulled over his head. George tiptoed towards him and eased back the blanket.
‘Adam,’ he whispered. ‘Adam! Wake up, lad.’ He shook him gently until he awoke, rubbing his eyes sleepily and staring up at his grandpapa.
‘Where’s mama?’ he asked suspiciously.
‘She’s sleeping. Don’t fret, lad. I’ve got a surprise for you. We’re going out on an adventure. Just you and me. How would you like that, eh?’
Cautiously, Adam raised himself to a sitting position. ‘Just you and me? What about Mama?’
‘It’s going to be a surprise for your mother, Adam. She likes surprises, doesn’t she? Now we’ve got to get you dressed and then we’ll be off on the adventure. When you’re dressed I’ll tell you where we’re going, so look lively, Adam.’
Adam glanced towards the window and frowned. ‘It’s dark! I want Mama to come with us.’ He clung to the blanket as George tried to uncover him.
George hesitated. ‘Look, Adam, the truth is we’re going to the pet shop to buy you a kitten. If we tell your mother she—’
‘A kitten!’
George nodded. ‘A ginger kitten. A present from your Grandpapa! Now what do you say, eh? Are you coming or not?’
Slowly, Adam slid from the bed and trotted to the window. Outside, the street lamps flickered as slivers of thin fog drifted past making the familiar street look eerie and unwelcoming. He gave an involuntary shudder and turned nervously. ‘But it’s dark . . . and the shop will be shut.’
‘Dark?’ George joined him at the window. ‘Bless my soul, that’s not dark, lad! The moon is shining and . . . Adam!’
The boy ran past him, dived on to the bed and burrowed back into the security of the bedclothes.
Upset by this turn of events, George sat down on the nearest chair and wondered what had gone wrong with his plan. The boy wanted a kitten and his daughter refused to buy him one so he, George the grandpapa, would do the honours. What was wrong with that? he asked himself with growing irritation.
He said, ‘So you don’t want a kitten.’
Adam, holding the blanket up to his chin, peeped over the top at his grandpapa. ‘I do . . . but I want mama to come with us.’
George sighed. ‘Well, if you don’t want to share the adventure, I’ll go on my own.’ He stood up. ‘One ginger kitten! Your wish is my command!’ He swung up his right arm in a military-style salute and headed out of the room. He went down the stairs and out of the front door.
Shocked, Adam scrambled from his bed and ran along the landing to his mother’s room and in at the open door.
‘Mama! Mama! Wake up! Grandpapa has gone out in his pyjamas!’
She was wide awake in seconds. ‘Oh Lord! I’ll h
ave to fetch him back. You stay here like a good boy and don’t follow me.’
Pulling her coat on over her nightdress and pushing her feet into her shoes, she rushed from the room and down the stairs. At the front door she called back urgently. ‘Go back to bed, Adam, please! I promise I won’t be long.’
Rooted to the spot, Adam considered her words. He wanted to rush off with his mother into the darkness – that would be an adventure – but suppose he couldn’t catch up with her and got lost . . .?
He climbed back into bed and reached for his teddy bear. The house seemed very large around him and very empty as the minutes passed and his fears deepened. Suppose neither of them came back . . .
But as she had promised, his mother returned with his grandpapa, and before long she had made Ovaltine for all of them and everything was all right again. Well, not quite, he thought regretfully as his eyes flickered and then closed. He had missed an exciting adventure and was still waiting for a kitten or a puppy . . . or a rabbit . . .
The next day dawned with gusty squalls of rain. At number fifteen May was peeling potatoes when her daughter Dolly appeared at the back door that led straight into the kitchen. One look at her daughter set her nerves on edge because she knew that look – the pinched face, tight lips and furrowed brow. Even as young as six Dolly had signalled her displeasure with sulks, and May’s heart sank.
‘Now what?’ she demanded without preamble. She pointed at the dresser with the potato peeler, and Dolly moved to the dresser, fetched the biscuit tin and helped herself to a custard cream. ‘Honeymoon over, is it?’ May asked her.
‘Course not, but . . .’ Dolly crunched into the biscuit, scattering crumbs. ‘I just . . .’ She sighed heavily. ‘It’s his stupid brother.’
‘Doing what, exactly?’
‘Meddling. Trying to make me believe that . . . Trying to persuade me . . .’
‘Spit it out, girl!’
Dolly took a deep breath. ‘Making out Don’s gone and left me. I mean, I know he hasn’t, but . . .’
‘Gone and left you? Gone where?’
‘I don’t know, do I!’ Her frown deepened. ‘I hate that brother of his. I really do. He’s a miserable toad, is Sidney.’
May pretended to carry on peeling the potato, but her mind was racing. If what her daughter told her was true, Dolly’s marriage would go down in history as the shortest ever! The Ellerway family would be a laughing stock. Desperately trying to keep her tone light she asked, ‘So he says Don has left you. What gave him that idea?’
‘Because he hasn’t been home for a few days and . . .’ She swallowed hard. ‘He’s working, I told Sid, but Sid shook his head. “He’s scarpered,” he said. He said this time he’s gone for good and I won’t see him again!’
Her voice shook, and May gave up on the potatoes and sat down opposite her daughter who was on the verge of tears.
‘Don’s never left you, Dolly, so don’t be so daft. A lovely girl like you! He knows which side his bread’s buttered, and don’t you forget it. That bloody Sidney is pulling your leg. That’s how big his brain is! He thinks it’s funny. Probably jealous of his brother. That’s about the size of it.’ She smiled with false confidence. ‘You mark my words, he’ll be back! Don, I mean.’
‘Do you think so?’ Dolly looked unconvinced.
‘I know so! I mean, what reason does he have for leaving you . . . and for leaving his own home? Where’s he going to go? Course he’s not left you. He may not be the greatest catch in the world, but he’s not a fool!’
Her words, May thought anxiously, did not seem to be having the desired effect. Please God there’s no truth in it! That would put the cat among the pigeons and no mistake. She wouldn’t put anything past Dolly’s beloved Don, but they’d only been married a few days. It was a bit early for the fun to go out of a marriage, especially with Dolly’s pretty ways and bouncing curls and the baby on the way and everything.
May leaned forward. ‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’ she asked, ‘because I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.’ Mentally, she crossed her fingers, praying she was wrong.
Dolly’s mouth trembled. ‘I’m not supposed to tell anyone,’ she said.
May’s hopes plummeted. ‘I’m not anyone. I’m your mother!’
‘Honestly, Ma, I can’t say anything. I daren’t because he might . . . that is, I might make things worse!’ Two large tears made their way down her pale face. ‘Sidney made me swear!’
‘I’ll strangle that man!’ cried May, her plump body shaking with emotion. ‘With my own bare hands! I don’t care if I swing for it!’ She put a hand to her heart, which was thudding painfully. ‘Just tell me, Dolly . . . unless you want me to get it out of Sidney! I’ll be across that road before you can say “knife”!’
‘You won’t tell Mave, will you? You know how she’ll gloat! I’ll tell her myself when I’m good and ready.’
‘I won’t say a word.’
Dolly took a deep breath. ‘He says Don’s done something awful and the police are probably on to him!’
May fell back in her chair, her eyes wide with horror, and for a moment she couldn’t speak. She reached down, lifted up her apron and held it over her face.
Neither of them spoke for a long time, and then May said, ‘Something awful? Like what?’ When her daughter failed to answer she said, ‘Dolly!’ and slowly lowered the apron.
Dolly said, ‘Like he’s done a robbery!’
‘A robbery?’ May’s voice was almost a shriek. ‘What . . . robbed a bank?’
‘Not a bank. A jeweller’s. That one in London. Him and Sidney – and another man who drove the car.’
‘Godawmighty! If they catch him he’ll go down for years!’
Dolly had closed her eyes.
May snatched the biscuit tin from her daughter and crammed a garibaldi into her own mouth. She selected two more and handed back the tin. Thus armed, she tried to think about what she had been told, but it was altogether too wide a picture. A robbery! Her daughter was married to a jewel thief! ‘Too, too much,’ she whispered. ‘This is not happening. It isn’t!’
‘Sidney says he’s going to scarper and that I should do the same because otherwise the police’ll come after me but I don’t know where to scarper to . . . or where Don is and he ought to have taken me with him because I am his wife but Sidney doesn’t know where he is and says he might be in France until things calm down a bit. But where in France?’ Her lips trembled.
As May swallowed the last mouthful of the last garibaldi, her eyes widened. ‘Where’s that ring he gave you what was supposed to be a diamond?’
‘Sidney’s took it to a man he knows who’ll tell me what it’s worth so I can sell it and live off the money.’ She tossed her head and gave her mother a challenging glance. ‘It’s my ring, and I can sell it if I like!’
May closed her eyes and groaned.
‘Ma? What’s the matter?’
‘You’ve given the diamond ring to Sidney who is about to take off – and he’s got your ring!’ Her eyes snapped open. ‘Yes! You may well look like that, Mrs Wickham! Trust me – you will never set eyes on either of them again. That’s the end of that. “Finny”, as they say in France.’
‘Finny?’
‘Never mind!’
Dolly glared at her mother in shocked dismay. ‘Listen to you! I come over here for help and you make me feel a lot worse! What sort of mother are you?’ She stood up. ‘I’m going home, and I shall stay there. I still live there, and I don’t need your help, so there! Stuff that in your pipe and smoke it!’ She rushed to the door and along the passage.
‘Dolly!’ May screamed. ‘Don’t you dare run off. Come back here!’ She raised her eyes heavenwards, both exasperated and infuriated in equal measure. ‘Listen to me! There’s no point in carrying on like this – you’re in deep trouble, and you do need my help.’
Heaving herself from the chair she hurried after her daughter, but the front door slammed in
her face and she at once gave up the chase. She would not give the neighbours the thrill of seeing her pursuing her own daughter across the street. They’d know something was wrong before too long. Word gets round. And how they would all laugh. One minute the Ellerways were celebrating a wedding, and the next it had all gone up in flames!
Leaning against the banister she drew a few shuddering breaths and muttered a few choice swear words before her anger suddenly evaporated, a sense of helplessness took its place and she sat down heavily on the bottom stair. Fighting back tears she rocked to and fro in an agony of helpless indecision and doubt. It was not long, however, before she gave way altogether and began to cry in earnest.
Nine
While May’s day was being ruined by her daughter’s alarming news, Lydia stood in the kitchen ironing and thinking about her visit to Mansoor Street and her meeting with Dolly Wickham. Her father and Adam were in the front room where George was helping him with a jigsaw puzzle so she was satisfied that they were both safe – for the time being.
As she slid the iron to and fro over her father’s shirt she struggled to recall something that had been niggling at the back of her mind. Something Mrs Wickham had said had passed her by at the time, but had returned in the middle of the night only to vanish again as soon as she awoke. She eased the point of the iron along the left-hand sleeve and thought it had something to do with the kitten. So perhaps it was something Adam had said . . .
She turned the sleeve over and applied the iron. It would soon be too cool, and she would swap it with the other one which was heating on top of the stove.
‘Ah!’ She stopped ironing as the missing piece of her mind’s jigsaw fell into place. Adam had told Dolly Wickham that he was not allowed to have any pets because animal’s fur made his father sneeze! She smiled. Unfortunately, that was true. And Mrs Wickham had said that her husband was also affected by fur. She supposed it was rather like hay fever – the way some people were affected by flower pollen.
Finishing the shirt, she selected another from the basket and changed the irons. But Mrs Wickham had decided to get a kitten anyway, despite the embargo. Good for her. It would be a fait accompli, she reflected, and presumably Mrs Wickham was hoping that her husband would give in on the subject and let her keep the kitten. She wondered whether she could be brave enough to challenge John. Adam would be so thrilled to have a pet, and the animal would be company for him.
The Great Betrayal Page 13