by Lily Baxter
‘But I have to be on my way first thing,’ Susan said pointedly. ‘I’ve got to find work as well as somewhere to live.’
Roz shrugged her shoulders. ‘Let’s worry about that tomorrow, shall we? In the meantime I’m going downstairs to open up. Why don’t you put your things in here and come down and keep me company? There’ll only be a couple of locals to start with. They’re old chaps who work on the land and they come in on their way home every evening for a pint of mild and a chat. It will be nice to have someone closer to my own age to talk to.’ She nodded her head in Charlie’s direction. ‘He can come too, if he promises to behave himself and leave poor Orlando alone. Dad loves dogs, although I can’t say the same for my cat.’
Roz had not exaggerated. The bar was quiet for the first hour with the two locals sitting in the snug smoking roll-ups and sipping their ale.
Bob Fuller made an appearance just as they were starting to get busy. He greeted Susan without surprise, as if his daughter made a habit of taking in waifs and strays. His dark eyes twinkled beneath thick black eyebrows and he exuded bonhomie, although Susan thought she would not like to get on the wrong side of him. Despite his pleasant demeanour, he looked tough with his hair cropped close to his head, and his sleeves rolled up to the elbows to reveal muscular forearms. Taking account of his square jaw and a nose that deviated slightly to the left, he had the appearance of a prize fighter. When he caught Susan staring at him he gave a throaty chuckle. ‘You’re wondering where I got this fine physique, aren’t you, Susan?’
Murmuring an apology, she looked away, but he took her by the hand and led her into the snug. The walls were hung with photographs of himself in the days when he was a successful middle-weight, and his trophies were locked in a glass-fronted corner cupboard for all to see. ‘That was me in my heyday,’ he said proudly.
‘Stop boasting, Dad,’ Roz said, tossing a tea towel at him. ‘I could do with a hand, if you’re not too busy.’
Bob grinned. ‘See how she bullies me, Susan? Anyone would think that she’s the boss round here, not me.’ He picked up the cloth and went behind the bar to help Roz and chat to the customers.
Susan watched them as they worked side by side. Bob clearly adored his daughter, and Susan could see that the feeling was mutual. Once again she felt the slight tug of envy and the sensation of being forever an outsider. She settled down in the corner of the ingle nook as a mere onlooker, but it was Charlie who was the star of the evening. Virtually all the customers made a fuss of him, particularly the women, and he made the most of his newfound popularity. He was shameless in his antics, giving paws and greeting each new person as if they were his lifelong friends. Susan sat on her own, sipping a glass of ginger beer shandy. The warmth of the log fire combined with the small amount of alcohol in the drink made her feel pleasantly sleepy. She watched Roz doing her job with growing admiration. She was good with people without being over-familiar, and she obviously knew how to handle the men who attempted to flirt with her. As the evening went on there was no sign of either Tony or Colin.
Susan was fighting off sleep when Bob came over to collect some empty glasses from a nearby table. He stopped, looking at her with a frown puckering his brow. ‘You look done in, young lady. Roz can have the rest of the evening off. She’ll look after you.’
Somewhat shakily, Susan rose to her feet. ‘I am a bit tired, Mr Fuller.’
‘Bob,’ he said, grinning. ‘Now get along with you before you fall asleep and I have to carry you upstairs to bed. That would give the locals something to talk about.’ He signalled to Roz. ‘You can finish for tonight, love. Take care of Susan. I can manage on my own.’
Roz lifted the flap in the counter but she hesitated as the door opened to admit a man whose undeniable good looks and air of authority would have made him stand out in any crowd. His tweed hacking jacket and cavalry twill trousers were obviously bespoke, and extremely expensive. He took off his cap to reveal a head of wavy blond hair that refused to lie flat and flopped over his brow only to be pushed back as if he was quite unaware that all the females in the bar were gazing at him. He greeted everyone as if he knew each one individually, and Bob strolled over to meet him with a cheerful quip.
Susan hesitated. She had been watching Roz’s face and she had been quick to note the delicate blush that tinted her cheeks and the sudden alertness of her expression. Unless she was very much mistaken, this man was more than just another customer. She wondered if he was the reason for her reticence when she had asked Roz about boyfriends.
‘I’ll be with you in two ticks, Patrick.’ Bob took the glasses to the bar. ‘I’ll take over now, Roz.’
‘It’s all right, Dad,’ she said, reaching for a pint mug. ‘The usual, Patrick?’
He moved swiftly to take a seat on a bar stool. ‘Yes. Thanks, Roz.’
Susan could only see their profiles but she could tell by the way Roz was smiling at him that he was definitely someone special, and he seemed to have eyes for her alone. Susan had read enough romantic novels to know the signs. She stood in the middle of the bar, momentarily forgotten, watching the tableau as if she was at the pictures. It was Charlie who decided to break things up and he bounded over to the newcomer and jumped up at him.
The spell was broken and Susan moved forward to grab him by the collar. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said apologetically. ‘I thought I’d managed to stop him doing that.’
Patrick turned his head to look at her and he smiled. Susan could see why Roz had fallen for him. He was not classically handsome, but his blue eyes shone with humour and his generous mouth curved into a ready smile. His skin was tanned, giving him the look of a man who spent a good deal of his time out of doors, and he seemed to know exactly how to handle a frisky young dog.
‘Down, boy.’
Charlie obeyed instantly.
‘You’re obviously used to handling animals,’ Susan said unnecessarily.
‘He should be,’ Roz said, drawing a pint of bitter from the beer engine and passing it to him. ‘Patrick is our local vet. Patrick, this is Susan Banks, she’s looking for work in the neighbourhood. Do you know of any jobs going?’
He held out his hand. ‘How do you do, Susan?’
Suddenly shy, she felt herself blushing. ‘How do you do?’ At least she had learned something from Mrs Kemp, she thought vaguely. Her former employer had been a stickler for manners and etiquette, and even if she had not directed her teachings at Susan personally it would have been impossible to spend four years in her home without absorbing some of her high standards.
‘What sort of work are you seeking?’ Patrick took a handful of coins from his trouser pocket. ‘Would you like a drink, Susan?’
She shook her head. ‘No, thank you. And as to jobs, I don’t mind. I’ll mop floors and clean windows if necessary.’
‘Well, if I hear of anything I’ll let you know. Where are you staying?’
‘Roz has been very kind and offered me a bed for the night.’
Patrick smiled. ‘That’s just like her, but she’ll probably make you work for your keep. Don’t tell her I said so, but she’s a real slave driver when she gets going.’
Roz pulled a face at him. ‘Thanks for that, Patrick. I know who to come to if I ever need a reference.’
‘Let me buy you a drink to make amends, Roz.’ He pushed some coins towards her, his gaze fixed on her face. ‘How about a gin and It?’
She reached out to take the money and for a second their fingers touched. Susan could almost feel the electricity that crackled in the air between them. Then the expression on Roz’s face changed subtly as she glanced over his shoulder. Susan felt a gust of cold air and turned her head to see a young woman stride into the bar. She was tall and slender with glossy auburn hair confined in a snood at the back of her head. She wore a fur coat that simply had to be genuine mink and she carried a crocodile-skin handbag. ‘So there you are, Patrick.’ Her voice was as icy as the winter air that she had brought in from the street.
‘I thought I might find my husband lurking in the bar of the Victorious.’
Chapter Ten
Patrick stood up, offering her his seat. ‘Hello, Elspeth.’
She slipped off her mink and draped it over the stool. ‘I’ll have a gin and tonic. A double.’
‘A large G and T for my wife, please, Roz,’ Patrick said with an attempt at a smile.
Watching from the sidelines, Susan felt quite sorry for him. It was obvious that his wife, beautiful though she was, had quite a temper when roused. She was obviously seething now and ready to erupt like Vesuvius.
‘Good evening, Elspeth.’ Roz took a goblet from the shelf and held it under the optic.
‘Is it? I wouldn’t know. I’ve been waiting for my husband to come home for dinner for the last two hours, and he didn’t even have the good manners to telephone and let me know that he was going to be late.’
‘I was called out to Tanner’s farm,’ Patrick said in a low voice. ‘I asked Sally to let you know.’
‘Well quite obviously she had better things to do, or else you simply forgot. We all know where your priorities lie, darling.’ Elspeth snatched up her glass and took a mouthful. She glared at Roz. ‘I suppose it’s no use asking you how long my husband has been propping up the bar.’
Roz shrugged her shoulders. ‘Don’t drag me into this. I just serve the drinks.’
Bob strolled over to deposit several empty glasses on the counter. ‘Hello, Elspeth. You’re always a sight for sore eyes, and you look particularly lovely this evening.’ He lifted the hatch and took his place beside his daughter.
Elspeth eyed him suspiciously. ‘Don’t try and flannel me, Bob Fuller. You men always stick together.’
Patrick downed the last of his pint. ‘This isn’t the time or the place, Elspeth. Let’s go home.’
She tossed her head. ‘Why? I think it’s my turn to relax and enjoy myself.’ She finished her drink in one gulp and pushed the glass towards Roz. ‘I’ll have similar. I do hate it when people say “the same again”, which is absolute nonsense and appalling misuse of the English language.’
Bob picked up her glass. ‘I’ll serve Mrs Peterson, Roz. You go on up and take young Susan with you. She looks fit to drop.’
‘Thanks, Dad.’ Roz ducked under the hatch. ‘By the way, Elspeth, your husband came in about ten minutes before you arrived.’ She walked away without giving either of them a chance to respond.
Susan was about to follow when Charlie decided that the mink coat was fair game and attempted to drag it from the stool.
Elspeth let out a loud scream. ‘Patrick, do something. My beautiful coat.’
He uttered a sharp command and Charlie let go, backing away with his tail between his legs. ‘No harm done,’ Patrick said, smoothing the pelts and replacing the coat on the stool.
‘No harm?’ Elspeth raised her voice to the pitch that would shatter glass. ‘My gorgeous mink is covered in dog spit. Another minute and the brute would have ripped it to shreds.’
Bob took her glass and held it under the optic. He pushed it across the bar. ‘On the house, Elspeth.’
Susan grabbed Charlie’s collar. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured, hurrying him out of the room. She almost bumped into Roz who was standing in the narrow hallway with her hand clamped over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her giggles. Susan closed the door before releasing the unrepentant Charlie. ‘That could have been nasty,’ she said, trying not to laugh. ‘That wretched fur coat must be worth a fortune.’
‘That was the funniest thing I’ve seen in years. Elspeth’s face was a picture.’ Roz made her way to the kitchen.
‘You don’t like her, do you?’
‘Would you like some cocoa?’ Roz went into the larder and emerged seconds later with a bottle of milk in one hand and a tin of cocoa in the other. ‘I’m going to have some.’
‘Yes, please.’ Susan watched while she measured two cupfuls of milk into a saucepan and put it on the hob. ‘Is it all right if I let Charlie out into the garden? Where’s Orlando, though? I don’t want a repeat of this afternoon’s performance.’
‘I expect he’s asleep on my bed by now. Yes, let him out by all means, and give him a biscuit for annoying Elspeth. She’s a real bitch to poor Patrick.’
Susan let Charlie out into the darkness. She waited by the back door, hoping that he did not decide to jump the garden wall for a second time that day. She need not have worried as he returned almost immediately. He explored the kitchen with his nose to the ground as if hoping to find a morsel of food that someone had dropped on the floor. Susan took a seat at the table. She was tired, but she was also curious. ‘Why does Elspeth treat her husband like that? He seems such a nice chap.’
‘He is,’ Roz said, spooning cocoa into two cups. ‘But she’s got heaps of money and he’s building up his practice. She never lets him forget who holds the purse strings.’ She lifted the pan from the stove, adding the milk to the cocoa powder and stirring.
‘Then why on earth did he marry her?’
Roz passed a cup to Susan. She sat down at the table adding a spoonful of sugar to her cocoa. ‘She was pregnant, so he did the right thing. Then she had a miscarriage, so it was all a waste of time.’
‘That’s awful.’
‘Awful for him.’
Susan stared at her in surprise. She was shocked that someone as nice as Roz could be so unfeeling when it came to another woman’s tragedy. ‘I’d say losing their baby must have been a terrible blow for both of them.’
Roz looked up, fixing her with a hard stare. ‘Who said it was his? Elspeth was engaged to Patrick’s elder brother, Martin. The wedding was going to be a grand affair at Colby Grange three years ago, but Martin’s appendix flared up and although they operated almost immediately he died of septicaemia. The she-wolf was already pregnant and Patrick stepped up, like a gentleman, to save the family name.’
‘That’s quite sad.’
Roz sipped her cocoa. ‘Bloody tragic, if you ask me. It’s not as if the Colbys were gentry or anything like that. Old man Colby made his money in munitions during the Great War. Now they’re coining it in for the second time and Elspeth is filthy rich.’
Susan’s head had begun to ache. The intensity of Roz’s outburst together with her own desperate situation had suddenly become too much for her. She pushed back her chair and stood up. ‘Would you mind if I take the cocoa to my room? I’m really tired.’
‘No, of course not. Take no notice of me, Susan. I’m being bitchy because I hate to see a nice man dragged down by a predatory female.’ Roz managed a tight little smile. ‘Night night. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.’
Susan went up to her room, and having washed and changed into her nightgown she climbed into bed. Charlie flopped down on the floor and closed his eyes with a deep sigh. ‘I agree,’ Susan said, sipping her rapidly cooling drink. ‘It’s been quite a day.’ She placed the empty mug on the bedside cabinet and switched off the lamp. Enveloped in darkness she could hear the muffled drone of voices from the bar below, and the faint soughing of the wind. Exhausted both physically and mentally, she drifted off into a deep sleep.
She was awakened next morning by the steady plod of horse’s hooves and the rumbling of cartwheels, followed by the clunk of milk bottles being deposited on doorsteps. She sat up and stretched. Charlie opened one eye and yawned. ‘It’s all right for you,’ she said softly. ‘You haven’t got a care in the world. I have to find work and a place to live today. We were lucky to get a bed for the night but we can’t impose on the Fullers.’ She rose from the warm cocoon of blankets and shivered as her bare feet touched the cold linoleum. Bracing herself, she went to draw back the curtains. It was still dark outside but she could just make out the irregular line of the rooftops across the street. A faint glimmer of dawn lightened the sky to the east, and she could see shadowy figures on the pavement below as people made their way to work. Inside the pub all was silent with no sign of anyone stirring. She took advantage of the fact
that Roz and her father were not early risers and made her way to the bathroom.
Washed, dressed and feeling suddenly ravenous, she tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen with Charlie padding along behind her. He made a dash for Orlando as they entered the kitchen and was met with an arched back, flailing claws and a hissing mouth opened wide to expose a set of sharp white teeth. Charlie sat down, staring at the cat, obviously bewildered by this show of aggression. Ignoring them both, Susan made a pot of tea. Driven by hunger, she took a loaf from the bread bin and cut a slice. She found a block of margarine on a marble slab in the larder and spread some thinly on the bread. She was sitting at the table and about to take a bite when Roz walked into the kitchen. She was wrapped in a candlewick dressing gown and her hair was hanging loose around her shoulders. She blinked, rubbing her eyes. ‘I thought I heard someone moving about.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was hungry so I helped myself. I hope you don’t mind.’
Roz yawned and reached down to pat Charlie on the head. ‘Mind what?’ She stared at her bleary-eyed. ‘Oh, the bread. Heavens no. Take all you want. Is there any tea left in the pot?’ She slumped down on a chair, running her hand through her tousled mop of hair.
Susan jumped up to fetch another cup and saucer. She poured the tea and passed the cup to Roz. ‘I’ll go out as soon as it’s light and start looking for work. Perhaps there might be something at the aerodrome.’
Roz reached for the sugar bowl. ‘It’s a pity that none of the boys came in last night, but they’ll turn up sometime.’ She swallowed a mouthful of tea. ‘You’re welcome to stay until you get fixed up.’
‘Thanks, I’m really grateful, but I’ve got to start somewhere.’
‘Talking of making a start …’ Roz glanced at the clock on the wall, pulling a face. ‘I should have got up earlier to make the soup. It’s quite popular at lunchtime with a freshly baked roll. That’s if the boy from Hookers delivers the bread in time. He’s a lazy little scamp and I’ll swear he eats half of the order before he gets here.’