‘No apology needed for trying to find out why Rose has problems,’ Mabs assured her after listening to what she had learned. ‘She obviously suffered a sad and lonely childhood and her low self-worth is understandable, but isn’t it odd that when love was offered she walked away?’
‘Afraid of another rejection, I suppose.’ Susie looked at Mabs, wondering how she would react as she went on, ‘Should I tell Greg? Help him to understand why Rose walked away from him? Or is it best to let things fade away?’
‘Fond of him, aren’t you.’ Mabs smiled. ‘I for one would be very glad if thoughts of you helped memories of Rose fade away. He would never have been happy with her, we all know that. She carries a sad dark cloud with her, while you, young Susie, are filled with happiness and spread sunshine wherever you go!’
‘He makes me happy.’
‘Tell him if you must, and if it drives him to try to make another attempt to gain her trust, then it’s better you know now.’
On Sunday morning while Zena was preparing a meal for the family and Susie and her parents, there was a knock at the door which was immediately opened. Jake called, ‘Zena, lovely girl, are you there? There’s someone I’d like you to meet.’ He stood at the door with a wriggling, furry brown dog in his arms.
‘Jake, you can’t have a dog. What are you thinking of?’ She reached over and took the fussy bundle in her arms.
‘I saw a van stop in the middle of Swindon. The driver put her out on the pavement and drove away. Poor love, she chased the van for a while then stopped and looked around panting with shock. I opened the car door and lifted her in.’
‘But what will you do with her?’
‘I took her to a vet and she’s soon to have puppies, which is why she was abandoned, I suppose. Poor little thing.’
‘But you can’t keep her.’
‘No, love. I was hoping you and Greg will look after her. She’s called Betty.’ The little dog gave a bark.
‘Betty?’ The dog barked again.
‘How d’you know her name?’
‘Because every time I say it she barks. Don’t you, Betty?’ The dog barked. He smiled at her and Zena looked from him to the dog and began to melt.
Lottie came in with a scuttle of coal, saw the dog and, as Zena had done, took her in her arms. Already smitten by the time Jake had repeated his story, there was no question about Betty being given a home.
Jake stayed for a couple of hours, walking with Zena and Lottie, with Betty trotting contentedly beside them. He asked Zena if she had thought any more about joining him in London, but, making a joke of it, she said, ‘How can I? She wouldn’t like living in the city, would you, Betty?’ Betty barked. ‘That was definitely a no!’
Over the following days, Zena and Greg took the dog for a walk to help her familiarize herself with the neighbourhood. They went down the rocky path to the lake and, to their surprise, young Geraint was there. After playing with the dog and getting them both wet, he asked Greg about the raft, this having been repaired by Sam and Neville and was floating on the calm water firmly held by the arrangement of strong new ropes. They took Geraint for a ride across the lake and back, with the dog barking all the way. Geraint was allowed to pull on the ropes helping Greg to bring it back to where they had begun and was very impressed.
‘You can come whenever one of us is free to go with you, but never on your own,’ Greg warned. ‘If I find out you’ve come on your own you’ll be banned.’
Geraint promised. ‘Thanks, I think it’s wonderful,’ he said, his eyes shining with the sheer pleasure of it all. ‘I won’t tell my friends either,’ he added. ‘Just in case they think they can use it.’
Over the following weeks, Lottie took charge of walking the dog. She left Zena in the shop and took the dog on what she called Betty’s sight-seeing tours. She was taken to the farm and introduced to Digby, Sam’s sheepdog, who became her friend. They visited the vet and were reassured about her condition She was given toys, a bed and a blanket, and preparations were in place for the birth of the three puppies the vet promised.
Winter showed no signs of weakening its grip and Lottie spent less and less time at the shop, using the little dog as an excuse. Zena didn’t mind. She still managed to clean for Roy Roberts, her friend Nelda and was gradually helping Karen to clean rooms in the house that she was still amused to learn was called SunnyBank. ‘What a name for a creepy old, haunted house,’ she laughed, as she told Aunty Mabs.
Chasing out spiders and other interlopers, scrubbing and polishing revealed an attractive house with well-proportioned rooms elegantly carved staircase, ornate ceilings and floors that were in perfect condition once the dirt had been removed. It was hard but satisfying work. She was content.
She was at SunnyBank working through a list of tasks left for her by Karen, who had to see the doctor. The house was filled with that clear silence that makes every sound resonate, emphasizing the hollow emptiness. She dropped a box of cutlery into the sink for cleaning and the sound went on and on, bouncing off walls and she looked around as though afraid of disturbing ghosts. It felt different knowing Karen wasn’t there, even her own footsteps were an intrusion in the quiet, empty rooms and she found herself tiptoeing to and fro.
She started to make herself cup of tea and it was as she turned off the kettle, which had disturbed the silence for a while, that she heard something clatter upstairs. It must have been the wind, knocking something off a window sill. Even on chilly March mornings, Karen liked to open a window for a while. Then she heard the sound of someone muttering and a drawer opening and closing. The voice of the man was raised and she heard angry words as the man searched for something.
Was it a thief? Should she face him? Or run to a telephone box and dial 999? The voice then cried out as though in pain and without thinking she went up the wide staircase and glanced at the locked room. The muttering was coming from there. She crept forward and listened.
‘Is that you, Karen?’ the voice asked. ‘I seem to have cut myself and I can’t find the first aid box.’
‘Hello?’ Zena whispered in her fear. ‘Mrs Rogers isn’t here. Can I help?’
‘Who are you?’
‘I’m Zena, I help Mrs Rogers with the cleaning.’
‘You’d better come in, Zena. Can you fix a bandage, d’you think?’ Before she could answer, the front door opened and Karen called a greeting.
‘I’m up here, Karen. I think the gentleman in this room has hurt himself,’ she said. As Karen ran up the stairs, Zena hurried down and went into the kitchen, where she stood and waited for Karen to come back down. For something to do she prepared a tray with two coffee cups and biscuits, for Karen and the mysterious man upstairs. She heard footsteps coming very slowly down the polished wooden stairs and waited, half expecting to be told to leave, accused of interfering.
‘You’d better make that coffee for three,’ Karen said, as she walked slowly into the room. ‘It’s time for you to meet your employer.’
Zena turned and stared as a large, young well dressed man followed her in. She noticed that Karen was holding the man’s hand leading him. He wore dark glasses and, as Karen guided him to a chair, she realized with great sadness that he was blind. Karen introduced him as ‘Mr James Penberthy.’
Stupidly Zena offered her hand as she said, ‘I’m Zena.’ She stepped closer and found his hand and he gripped hers and shook it firmly. She chatted a little as she made coffee under Karen’s instruction as to strength, then reached for her coat. With a friendly comment about the next of her clients waiting for her she went to the door. Mr Penberthy called her back. ‘What did you say your name was?’
‘Zena, Mr Penberthy,’ she said, hurrying out of the door.
She cycled home, unaware of the icy cold that crept into her clothes and chilled her. She was impatient to tell her mother about the odd occurrence and wondered about the tragedy of the inhabitant of the out-of-bounds room, Mr James Penberthy.
For no particular reaso
n, she wrote to tell Jake about the unexpected encounter. It was so strange, she needed to talk about it and, after discussing it with Lottie, Greg and Susie, none of whom knew anything about James Penberthy and Mabs who could add nothing either, a letter to Jake was a way of sharing the strange encounter. Although the letter was mainly about the house they’d always called the haunted house, she mentioned Susie several times, hoping Rose would stay away knowing that Greg had someone in his life whom they all liked very much.
In London, Madeleine and Rose were waiting for Jake before setting off for Cold Brook Vale and she opened the letter addressed to Jake and read it to Rose, making remarks about Greg’s lack of loyalty, ignoring the fact that it was Rose who had left. While they waited for Jake they discussed in a light-hearted manner some of the ways in which they could punish the Martins, particularly Greg, for his lack of loyalty and other misdemeanours undisclosed. Rose pretended with her; it was such fun but she said nothing of the reason for her sudden hatred of the Martin family.
When they were settled into their rooms in the usual lodgings, Jake went to visit the Martins. He knelt down at once to greet Betty who was larger than he remembered. He asked for a health report and praised them for the excellent care she was receiving. Then he said hello to Zena and the others and she greeted him warmly, sharing the delight of the little dog but with no sensation of excitement. She was relieved to find that the love she had felt for so long had faded leaving behind just familiarity and friendship.
He politely asked Lottie and Zena about the business and they told him all they had achieved and what plans they were making to expand. ‘Although,’ Lottie admitted, ‘I’m leaving more of the running of the business to Zena these days.’ All his questions were polite but on subjects about which he clearly had little interest, questions such as any visitor might ask.
When Zena began to discuss the man who lived at SunnyBank, he was puzzled. He knew nothing about her strange encounter and he hadn’t received any letter. ‘I bet Madeleine has it, she’s forgetful at times. When they come to the office she always takes them back to her flat as she knows we’ll meet up sometime soon.’
They filled him in on the little Zena had learned, but he knew of no one called James Penberthy. ‘Remember how we used to make up stories about the house being haunted?’ he said, looking at Zena and Greg. ‘Dared each other to go inside, we did, and then we’d run away yelling to frighten the ghosts. Good fun. Happy days, eh?’
They reminisced for a while then Jake said, ‘I remember the house was once owned by a man called Dove. Billy Dove I believe. Nickname ‘Birdie’ of course! He moved away a long time ago.’
‘My father mentioned him a few times,’ Zena said, at once interested. ‘Who was he?’
‘I have no idea, he was well out of my league. We all hoped he wouldn’t appear on one of our visits. We were probably more frightened of meeting him than a ghost! We stayed well into the trees when there were lights on in the house.’
Lottie looked hopefully at Greg. ‘We can ask the solicitor to try and find him—’
‘Why d’you want to find a previous tenant?’ Jake asked.
‘Oh, it’s just something the present tenant might want to know.’
Jake didn’t want to stay long, he knew he no longer belonged there, things had changed and now he was just a friend calling on the family, no longer anything more. He knew he was responsible and silently grieved for all he had lost. He asked about Aunty Mabs. ‘I know about the night café. Isn’t that dangerous for her? Leaving there so early in the morning carrying money, when there are so few people about, isn’t she in danger of being robbed and perhaps hurt?’
Greg explained. ‘She hides it in the café each night and I take it to the bank every Friday.’
‘She hides it? Where? The place is used by other people during the day, isn’t it? She seems to be taking risks.’
‘It isn’t anywhere obvious.’ Greg smiled and whispered, ‘She hides it behind a skirting board in the kitchen, would you believe!’
‘And,’ added Lottie, ‘she has a spare key in the disused drain-pipe outside the back door! Crazy I know, but twice she has forgotten her key and had to get a taxi back home to collect it.’
‘I hope you aren’t as casual about Office Supplies. Especially since the break in.’
‘No, we’re very careful about locking the door from the entrance to the flat so no one can get in from the back. It’s all safe now.’
Greg added with a grim smile, ‘Or it will be, once the new door is fixed. The present one could be pushed in by a seven-year-old!’ They all laughed and Jake remarked how simple life was in Cold Brook Vale, compared to his part of London.
When Jake left they went out to see him off and were shocked at the deterioration in the weather. A wind had strengthened and the temperature had dropped. They shivered as they stood in the doorway to wave him off in his smart, noisy little car.
In a touch of melancholy, Zena stood with her arms wrapped around herself shivering in the cold darkness and listening until the sound of the powerful engine faded. She wondered how such certainty, the plans she and Jake had so confidently made, could vanish and leave nothing in their place.
Inside the house they could hear the wind gusting, wailing now and again as it disturbed a loose panel on the corner of the old shed. A few metal objects could be heard rolling around on the yard, the branches of the trees swayed, and creaked as they touched against each other. The radio warned of worsening weather.
The storm increased in fury and Zena found it impossible to sleep. She glanced at the clock then wrapped herself in a dressing gown, threw a blanket over her shoulders and went down. The door was unlocked and she wondered if that meant Greg was on his way to work. Then the door opened bringing a wail of wind and a scattering of debris from the garden. Leaves, small twigs and earth covered the hall floor and he came in. Together they pushed to hold the door in place against a fierce, determined wind and lock it.
‘Where on earth have you been?’ Zena demanded. ‘You must be mad to risk going out in this.’
‘Jake and the others are going back to London tomorrow and I wanted to try one more time to talk to Rose.’
‘Oh, Greg. We all hope you’ll choose Susie.’
‘I have. But in a strange way I still need to know why she suddenly changed from a woman who was considering marrying me to someone I don’t know. Susie is the one to make me happy and even in my most confident moments with Rose I had doubts about her bringing me anything but an insecure feeling of her one day leaving me.’
‘Did you talk to her?’
‘It was crazy to expect to. There were lights on although it was past eleven o’clock, but when I knocked the door, Madeleine answered and said Rose had nothing to say to me. If I manage to see her without that woman who’s appointed herself bodyguard I might get some answers.’
‘Talk to Jake, he might be able to arrange something.’
‘I tried and he promised to try. I might go to London just one more time. Susie’s right, I need to get this half and half involvement with Rose out of my mind.’
‘Will Jake help, d’you think? He and Rose seem in thrall to the wonderful Madeleine!’
Greg shrugged. ‘You’re right. He’s second in command in keeping her away from me.’ He frowned. ‘What could it have been? Everything was looking hopeful then that visit to the hospital and it was all over. We were all there and no one remembers Dad saying anything hurtful.’
‘She’s never said much about her childhood, which I believe was sad and lonely, so it might have been because we were all there, a close family, making her doubt her ability of breaking in to our circle, afraid perhaps of always being a stranger and never really belonging.’
‘What happened to cause her such low esteem? She’s been away from the Conellys for years. She doesn’t have friends, at least she didn’t until Madeleine and Jake.’
‘Roy Roberts knows something of her history, but he won�
�t tell.’
With the wind still threatening to lift the roof, they sat and drank cocoa and ate toast and listened in wonder at the ferocity of the storm. At two o’clock Zena began to doze and they went up to try once again to sleep.
Back in London, having delayed their return until late in the day, Jake went to Madeleine’s flat and helped the girls unload their luggage, then went home to his dingy room. He was earning enough to move to somewhere more comfortable but was helping by giving a few shillings each week to a woman in the room next to his, who had broken a leg and was unable to get about. He would move as soon as she was well enough to cope without help. He bought and paid for some shopping every week, plus arranging for someone to do her laundry. She promised to repay him as soon as she was well but he smiled and waved away her thanks. To give meant just that: giving meant helping without expecting repayment or reward. Lending, now that was something different.
A few days later, when the three of them were eating a meal in a local café, Jake told them about the precarious way people lived in Cold Brook. ‘It’s a different world,’ he said. ‘Imagine hiding your takings behind the skirting board! And a spare key in a drain pipe! Did you ever hear anything so daft? And Zena and Lottie are even worse. They hide their daily cash in a cocoa tin in a cupboard!’
He talked about the differences in the two places, comparing the freedom of not worrying about thieves in his home town and having to make sure everything is almost bolted to the floor in the part of London where he lived.
‘Will you ever go back?’ Madeleine asked.
‘Leave here? I can’t imagine life without you two to entertain me,’ he replied. Madeleine glanced at him and saw what was a suspiciously sad expression in his blue eyes that belied his brightly spoken words. ‘Things change,’ she said quietly. ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’
The little dog presented them with three puppies and they all spent hours watching their progress, proud of the way Betty cared for them. Zena realized that the arrival of Betty had changed their lives but more for her mother than the rest of them. Zena managed the shop apart from the mornings when she did her cleaning as well as dealing with the business side. Lottie just agreed to any suggestions she made on what to order, and prices to charge and gradually, Lottie spent more and more days at home with Betty and the puppies.
The End of a Journey Page 23