‘I would,’ he said getting up. ‘George and Maureen must be due back soon,’ he called back as Sarah returned to the kitchen.
‘This evening. We had a postcard from them yesterday. They’ve had a lovely time, even if they did set off a little late because of the fire. They say that Sea View Guest House is comfortable and the landlady very welcoming. I wonder . . .’
‘What do you wonder?’ Mike said as he saw Sarah turn and give him a thoughtful smile.
‘Why don’t you take Gwyneth away for a few days? We can have Myfi here. She can top and tail with Georgina. I know Georgie would love it as she idolizes your girl.’
Mike thought for a moment. ‘You may have something there. A few days in the sun may make Gwyneth forget all this baby stuff for a while. I’ll have a word with your dad about the details. Thanks for that.’
Sarah smiled to herself as she headed out the back of the house to call her husband in. Perhaps a short time to themselves, enjoying each other’s company, would solve their problem. If only it was that simple for her own marriage.
Alan held out his hand as he entered the room. ‘Mike, it’s good to see you. I’ve not had a chance to thank you for all you did on the night of the fire.’
Mike returned the handshake. ‘It’s all part of the service, old chap. I’m thankful everyone got out alive, even though your business suffered; have you found somewhere else to work yet?’
Sarah watched the jovial chatter between the two men. In the case of her husband, it was all false. She’d seen him put on this happy façade on several occasions, switching it off again when the visitor had left the house. In some ways she wished Maureen still lived with them, as she would soon see through it and demand an explanation for his moodiness.
‘I’ve not as yet, but there’s a few irons in the fire. Early days and all that,’ Alan said, sitting down opposite the policeman.
‘At least you’re keeping your hand in, working on Bessie.’
Sarah sighed to herself. The only reason Alan went into their small back garden and tinkered with the motorbike was to avoid speaking to her. If she went out with a cup of tea, he would turn his back. If she tried to start a conversation, he became morose, and only when pushed would he answer in words of one syllable. It was a relief to go to work for a few hours to escape the tension in the house. There was also the nagging problem of money. Alan hadn’t offered her any housekeeping since a few weeks before the fire, and she’d all but used up the money she’d put aside for treats for the children and a possible holiday at the seaside.
She pulled herself back to the present, where Mike had started to talk about the intruder who had started the fire. She could see Alan was squirming in his seat and taking sideways glances in her direction. ‘I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Mike,’ he said, looking like a rabbit trying to dodge the headlights of one of his beloved motorbikes.
‘It’s the connection between Freda being rescued from Frank Unthank’s office the other week, and then his son turning up and setting fire to your workshop on the night of the wedding. The wedding and the family connections were well documented in the Erith Observer, so I could imagine a burglar taking his chances.’
‘I’d thought the same. It was a lovely article about the forthcoming wedding, and your dad being a councillor, as well as mentioning the workshop, but this could have been an open invitation for any of our homes to be visited by a thief.’ Sarah tried to convey sympathy with her expression as she spoke to Alan. All she received was a glare for her troubles.
‘No doubt he thought the building would be empty until being caught by Lemuel Powell, but for the life of me I can’t see how it all fits together . . .’ Mike added thoughtfully. ‘That’s why I decided to come and have a chat in case I’m missing something.’ He looked expectantly at Alan.
Seeing Alan was not about to say anything, Sarah spoke. ‘But why do you mention Freda? She doesn’t work for the garage or own a share. She’s just a friend,’ Sarah added, watching to see if even a flicker of shame crossed her husband’s face. Instead he leant forward, elbows on knees, and placed his face in his hands.
‘You say Freda was rescued. Did something happen?’ Sarah asked, ignoring Alan and his reluctance to speak.
‘I don’t think she will mind me telling you that I spotted Alan’s motorbike outside Unthank’s office in West Street. There was a crowd of kids hanging about, so I went to check all was well. That’s when I spotted Freda through the window being given a hard time, and from what I could see it could have turned nasty. It was none of my business why she was there, as she appeared to be unharmed, and I didn’t want to press charges; so I left it there.’
‘What is Frank Unthank’s business?’ Sarah asked. ‘I know the name but I’m not sure what he does.’
‘He has his finger in a lot of pies, but seems to avoid getting on the wrong side of the law most of the time. He’s known mainly as a moneylender and businessman,’ Mike explained.
‘A moneylender, you say? I wonder if Freda has been borrowing money?’ she said thoughtfully. ‘If she hadn’t paid the man back on time, he may have threatened her . . . but then why would he go to the workshop and not her house to collect his debt? Freda hasn’t invested in the workshop, has she, Alan?’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Alan all but snapped back, before remembering that Mike was watching him. ‘The kid’s got enough on her plate renting out rooms in that house of hers.’
‘Then perhaps she is in debt because of the house. It was foolhardy of Molly Missons to pass the house to a young woman like Freda and expect her to be able to maintain the upkeep. It must be almost twice the size of this place, and more suited to a family.’ She almost added ‘like ours’, but that would have sounded like sour grapes. Although she had to admit to herself, she’d been more than a little envious when Freda was given the house, especially when their family of four, plus living as they were with Maureen at the time, were squeezed here in a two-up, two-down terraced property.
‘They are larger houses, I’ll give you that, but Freda should be doing all right, as she’s always had a couple of lodgers. She’s not said anything to you about money problems?’ Mike asked, looking at Sarah. ‘I know you girls have all been close since moving to Erith.’
Sarah felt uncomfortable. She was not about to tell Mike that she believed Freda was carrying on with Alan. ‘We’ve not socialized as much lately as we used to, what with me being busy with the children and Freda having her lodgers to care for. Even at work we seem to have been on different shifts and breaks.’ She wasn’t about to add that she’d made sure of late to avoid Freda in the staff canteen, being sick of all the false pretence between them. God forbid she should snap and confront Freda in front of her colleagues. Sarah wasn’t one to wash her dirty linen in public. ‘Alan’s seen more of her than I have,’ she smiled politely, hoping Alan would take over the conversation. He stayed quiet.
Mike looked at his notebook. ‘I don’t feel as though I’m much further forward,’ he said. ‘I thought perhaps you could come up with something more.’
Sarah frowned. ‘Do you think the Unthanks believed the motorbike Freda was driving belonged to her?’
‘Why would that make any difference?’ Alan sighed.
‘If they did and Freda was in debt, then they would go looking for it, to perhaps take away in lieu of payment or to damage and teach her a lesson.’
‘You could have something there,’ Mike said, adding to his notes.
‘This is preposterous. You can’t put the blame for something like this on Freda,’ Alan blurted out.
‘It all makes sense, and with Unthank junior not telling us why he was in your workshop that night, it’s all we have to go on. That’s if you can’t remember anything else?’ Mike said, giving Alan a look that said, ‘prove me wrong’. ‘Perhaps if you do think of anything more, you’ll come down the station and let me know? We’ve enough to go on to charge Unthank. Although it would be good to know what’s all
behind it all, if only to put a stop to Frank Unthank running around Erith and having his heavies set fire to innocent people’s property.’
Sarah looked between her husband and the police sergeant. It was as if Mike was waiting for Alan to tell him something they didn’t already know, whereas Alan was trying to hide something he did know . . . All she could think was that her husband was having an affair, and the pair were not only keeping their sordid secret from all and sundry, but Freda was in some way behind the family business going up in flames.
Freda Smith had a lot to answer for, Sarah thought to herself as she pinned a smile to her face and saw Mike to the door.
11
Freda looked at the clock over the mantelpiece. It was almost ten o’clock, but it felt later. It had been a long day; so much had happened, and not all of it good. At least she had a new lodger, which would help her build up her lost savings. Best of all was that Effie seemed to get on well with Sadie and Anthony, and wanted to muck in with the meals and other chores.
She reached for the envelope Effie had left behind. Inside were the names of two people Freda could write to for references and below that her next of kin, who seemed to be a sister living in nearby Belvedere. Freda had asked why Effie wasn’t able to live with her family, and had been told the sister had a young family and was in rented accommodation – consequently there wasn’t room for Effie. That all seemed reasonable enough, and so Freda had offered the girl the room in her house on a three-month trial. There was the issue of Freda having seen Effie coming from that house in Wheatley Terrace, but on reflection she had decided to let it alone for now.
Checking the front and back doors were locked, she called out to Anthony, who was in his room. ‘I’m making a drink – would you like one?’ They’d taken to having a hot drink together last thing at night; Freda looked forward to this companionable time. Usually she asked more about his bike riding and told him about her life in Erith, not just her day at Woolworths but also how she helped out with the Brownies and Girl Guides.
‘I’ll be out in a minute,’ he called back as Freda went through to the living room. Of late Anthony had been taking short walks up and down the bottom end of Alexandra Road, trusting his injured leg, although he was using a walking stick and relying on a crutch at times when the injured limb was paining him.
Freda thought of the couple of weeks Anthony had spent in her home. At the time of the accident she’d not been keen on him at all as he came across as brusque and unfriendly to her when they worked under the same roof – although he might have been tagging along to be like the other trainees. However, he’d fitted in so comfortably, not just with her but with Sadie and young Arthur too, and she had the feeling that with Effie joining them they’d rub along almost like a family. But at some point he was bound to say he was fit enough be to on his way and, when his training was completed at the Erith branch of Woolworths, he could easily be moved to a store the other side of the country. The thought made her sad; she felt as though he had become, if not a firm friend, then someone who fitted into her life and didn’t cause any waves, which she was grateful for at that moment. But it would be ages yet, surely?
Freda now looked forward to coming home in the evening and closing her front door on the outside world, knowing that she could enjoy a pleasant evening with friendly people. Occasionally Lemuel joined them, or Freda would care for Arthur, allowing Sadie and Lemuel to go out on their own. The thought made her smile. It was nice to witness a burgeoning romance, even though she felt there could be rocky times ahead for them both, even if only caused by people who didn’t understand that the colour of a person’s skin meant nothing at all, especially when a couple were in love. One of these people was Sadie’s own grandmother, Vera.
‘You look as though you’re miles away,’ Anthony said as he joined her. ‘Is there something on your mind? There have been moments lately when I thought you had the troubles of the world on your shoulders. Is there anything I can help you with?’
Freda wasn’t about to tell him how she’d become involved in Alan’s problems or that Sarah thought she was having an affair with her husband, so she shrugged her shoulders. ‘Nothing for you to worry about,’ she smiled.
‘I’m here if you want to chat,’ he said. ‘I’m like a gypsy in your life, wandering in before I hit the highway waving goodbye, so you can tell me anything and I’ll take it with me when I go.’ He grinned. ‘Speaking of which, I have some news to give you.’
Freda felt as though she’d been punched in the stomach. ‘You’re leaving so soon?’ she asked, surprised by how unhappy that made her feel. ‘I thought you’d be staying with me – I mean, staying here in my house – much longer. What’s happened? Aren’t you happy with your room?’
The smile on Anthony’s face disappeared as he saw how unhappy Freda had become. ‘Here, here,’ he said as one large tear dropped onto her cheek. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a clean handkerchief and wiped away the tear while looking closely to see if any more threatened to fall. ‘I didn’t realize I’d had such a profound effect on you,’ he laughed, trying to lighten her mood.
‘I’m sorry. I’ve had a bit of a rotten day, and your news was the final straw,’ she said, taking a step away, as being so close to him was doing something strange to her heart beat.
‘Sit down,’ he commanded, pulling a chair out from the table with one hand while leaning on his walking stick.
‘I’ve got the cocoa to make . . .’
‘Sit down and do as I say,’ he commanded with a smile before sitting down across the table from her. ‘Now, what made you think I was leaving?’
Freda felt fragile. It was hard to stop her bottom lip from wobbling. She was always the first to laugh when Sarah started to cry. The friends often said Sarah could cry at the drop of a hat and be smiling the next minute, whereas Freda was far more level-headed. ‘I thought you were going to say you were leaving because you were talking about waving goodbye and . . .’
‘Do you want me to leave?’ he asked gently.
His question opened the floodgates and Freda found herself sobbing her heart out into the edge of the embroidered linen tablecloth that had been a gift from Maisie. As she calmed down and straightened the damp tablecloth, she gave him a watery smile. ‘Gosh, you must think me an utter idiot. It’s just that I’ve had a horrid day and I think I’ve lost all my friends and I can’t say why and the only thing that is keeping me happy at the moment is knowing I can come home to a happy house and . . . and . . . when you said you had news about leaving . . .’
Anthony left his seat and hurried as best he could to her side to pull her to him, which caused her to start crying once more. ‘I’ve never known anyone cry so much,’ he grinned as he tried to lift her mood. ‘Even that angry young woman who ran me down never shed a tear, and there I was lying in the road groaning and bleeding. And, if I recall, I swore rather a lot as well.’
Freda pulled back and rubbed her eyes with her hands. ‘I didn’t hear you swear once,’ she said indignantly.
He laughed and brushed a few strands of hair from her face with one finger. ‘I thought that would stop the tears. Now sit yourself down and I’ll make the cocoa – no, I’ll do it,’ he said as she went to protest. ‘Then we are going to have a serious talk with you telling me everything that has happened to you, and I’ll tell you why I’m not leaving here any day soon.’
Anthony sat quietly as Freda explained what had happened with Alan, and how Sarah assumed she was carrying on with Alan, and how it had all got out of hand. She told him about what she’d overheard that day outside Betty’s office. ‘She even threw away the photograph of me that was meant to be for the staff magazine cover girl competition,’ Freda said, taking a deep breath as she finished speaking.
‘There must have been something to make Sarah believe you were up to no good with her husband. These accusations aren’t usually plucked out of thin air,’ he said, looking puzzled.
‘I can only
think it’s my fondness for motorbikes. It was Alan’s bike I was riding when we had our accident. Alan treats me like his kid sister; his nickname for me is “kid”,’ she added. ‘And when he was demobbed and started his motorbike repair business rather than return to Woolworths – he was a trainee manager like you – I started going there to help out. We always joked that when he made it big I could go and work for him. I think I told you that I was a part-time despatch rider for the Fire Service during the war, so I’ve always had a love for motorbikes and getting my hands mucky. Sarah isn’t like that, and although she supports him wanting to have a business, she’s not a bit interested in motorbikes and repairing things. She even accused me of being the one who led the rescuers in to save Alan, as if I’d done something wrong. I was only trying to help as I knew the layout of the building. Perhaps that has made her question us being close. Although nothing has ever happened,’ she added firmly. ‘You do believe me, don’t you?’
‘I do believe you. I’ve not known you long, but I can tell you are an honest person.’
Freda felt awful and looked down into her lap. She’d not said anything about Alan’s problems with Frank Unthank, or the part she’d played in them. So far she’d not told a soul about it, and the guilt lay heavy on her mind. ‘Look, there is something else. I promised Alan I’d never tell a soul, but if I don’t say something I’m going to burst. I know Alan is so down with the guilt that I fear for his health.’
‘If you feel you can trust me, I’ll keep your secret. If you don’t want to tell me, I’ll still support you and be a friend.’
‘But you’re bound to go away at some point . . .’ she said with a shake in her voice.
Anthony gazed at Freda for a few seconds before shaking his head solemnly. ‘I have a feeling I’m going to accept the job I’ve been offered and hang around for a while. I like Erith, and I like the people who live here.’
Wedding Bells for Woolworths Page 18