Molly had planned to go over on the Fifie this afternoon to see Marigold but she didn’t relish the thought of crossing the river on such a wild and windy day. But maybe it will brighten up, she thought optimistically. When she got to Vera’s house, she was dismayed to see the curtains were closed and it looked as if Vera was still asleep. She stood at the door, uncertain whether to knock or go away. However, as she was on the verge of turning away to go down the stairs, the curtains were pulled back and Vera noticed she had a visitor.
Molly was shocked when she saw the woman. Vera had pulled a dressing gown over her short nightdress, but Molly could still see the deep grazes to her hands and knees, which looked worse in the early morning light. Vera almost pulled Molly into the house. Molly noticed the muddy coat and shoes and bag, the broken umbrella and the basin in the sink with its pink stained water. The room was also icy cold.
‘What’s happened, Vera?’ Molly said, quite alarmed by the grey pallor of Vera’s face and the mess all around the usually immaculate kitchen.
Vera burst into tears and Molly made her sit down while she put the kettle on to make her some hot tea. She also went to clean out yesterday’s ashes from the fire but Vera said to leave it. ‘I’ll get the electric fire.’ She went into the lobby and brought out a small, one-bar fire from the cupboard, which she plugged in beside the chairs. It didn’t give out much heat but it was better than nothing.
When Molly had made her comfortable with a cup of hot sweet tea and a rich tea biscuit, she asked again, ‘What happened?’
Vera’s hands were shaking as she told her story. ‘I thought I heard a car but now I’m not so sure, although I felt something hit my side. I’ve been wondering if I maybe wandered into the road and the driver might not have seen me. It was a terrible night. Then I think I might just have tripped and the muffled sound I heard was maybe a vehicle further down the road because I didn’t see any lights.’
‘Did you see a car when you left Mrs Jankowski’s house?’
‘No. I would normally have walked down the hill but I decided to take the quieter road because of the pubs coming out. Now, when I think about it, I should have kept to my original plan.’
Molly was worried by this turn of events. ‘Who knew you were going to be out last night? Don’t you normally play bridge on a Monday afternoon?’
Vera explained the reason for being out on a night when most normal people were tucked up indoors. ‘Maisie knew. She brought the letter here last week. I haven’t been back to the bridge afternoon since that day when Anita came. Harry and Una knew, but he had offered to see me home. I wish I had taken up his offer,’ she said bitterly.
Molly put the kettle back on. ‘I’ll bathe those cuts for you, Vera, they look inflamed. I can go down for my car and run you to the accident and emergency at the infirmary because I think you need a doctor to check you over. You could have some broken bones.’
But Vera was insistent that she was all right. ‘I’ll be fine once I get dressed. Now, Molly, what news have you got for me?’
Molly wished she could bring some good news to this poor woman but she didn’t have any. ‘I’ve interviewed a few of Etta’s acquaintances and workmates but I’m no further forward, Vera.’ If Vera had noticed she hadn’t used the word friends, she didn’t say. ‘I’ve spent the last two weeks checking out names, but there’s nothing to bring me any closer to the reason behind Etta’s disappearance.’ She leaned closer to her. ‘I don’t want to spend any more of your money because I think there won’t be any more news.’
Vera fished a handkerchief out of her pocket and blew her nose. She looked worse than ever. Her face was pinched and it was obvious she was in pain with her hip. ‘I’d like you to do the next two weeks, Molly, and if nothing new turns up, then I’ll just have to forget it.’
Molly nodded. ‘At least let me call the doctor for you.’
Vera said no, promising she would go to her doctor tomorrow morning.
‘Well, can I ask you some questions?’
‘All right. Go ahead.’
‘When you identified your husband, the paper said he had been in the water for some weeks. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but was he recognisable?’
Vera shivered and sat closer to the meagre heat from the little fire. ‘I didn’t really look at him. Just a quick glance but I recognised his watch. It was strange but it was still strapped to his wrist.’ She got up and hobbled over to the sideboard drawer, coming back with a grimy looking wristwatch. The leather strap was hard and brittle and it had long since given up ticking but it was a watch like Molly had never seen before. ‘Dave loved that watch. He said he got it from a German soldier in the Great War but I suspect he took it from a dead body. It was made in Germany and it has these little dials inside the face. As I said, Dave never took it off, except when he went to bed, but it was one of the first things he put on in the morning. So that’s how I recognised him. By a dead soldier’s watch – how ironic is that? Almost like it was cursed.’
Molly handed it back and Vera placed it in the drawer. ‘Did Etta ever have any boyfriends? Like the Robert or Michael McGregor who lodged with you, or someone called Pedro?’
Vera looked shocked. ‘I don’t think my lodgers would have had any romantic feelings for Etta. She was just fifteen or sixteen when they lived here. Michael was Robert’s brother and he came after Robert left. I don’t know anyone called Pedro. Do you think Pedro is Spanish? I never had any Spanish lodgers.’
Another brick wall, thought Molly. There were just a couple more queries. ‘When I looked at your address book, I saw a name that had been scored out. It looked like Ruby or something similar.’
Vera went very pale and her ravaged hand flew to her mouth. ‘She won’t be able to help you.’
‘Vera, I have to try and speak to anyone who knew Etta. Maybe she can help.’
Vera was clearly very agitated now and Molly wondered why. ‘No, she won’t be able to help and I don’t know where she lives now.’
‘Alright then. When Dave died, you were in hospital. So did the police come and tell you? And did you not wonder why Etta didn’t come to visit after the tragic news came to light?’ Molly hated having to question her, especially when she was clearly ill and upset.
‘Well, the police told the doctor and he was so kind when he told me. I was put in a small side room until I got home the following week. I never saw Etta again. The last time she came to the hospital was with her dad on the previous Wednesday night visiting hours. Dave came by himself on the Saturday afternoon but I knew Etta would be at work. Then, after the accident, I just assumed Etta was too upset to visit, until others confirmed she was missing as well.’
‘Did Dave mention he was going to Arbroath the next day?’
‘No, he didn’t and that was a strange thing because he always mentioned what he would be doing while I was in the ward. He would tell me what he cooked for their meals and what film they’d seen when they went to the pictures together. Etta never said much, but that was just Etta. She would sit and gaze all around the ward or read one of my magazines.’
It was time to go but Molly hated leaving Vera alone. ‘I can easily stay here with you and take you to the doctor tomorrow,’ she said.
Vera said she would be fine. ‘I’m feeling a bit better now. I’ll get dressed and just lounge around.’
Molly was worried about her but there was nothing she could do. She had offered her help and it had been gently rejected. As she walked towards the agency, her mind was going around in circles. Who was the woman in the address book, the one that Vera so clearly didn’t want to be found and questioned? Also, what had made Dave Barton suddenly go off to Arbroath on the Sunday when he was obviously going to visit his wife on Sunday afternoon? Molly looked at the ever-darkening sky and decided to forego her trip to see Marigold. Like Vera, she would just work from home today and try and make sense of everything.
After Molly left, Vera sat for a long time. There was so much she coul
d be doing, like lighting the fire and tidying up from last night, but she felt unable to move. She was regretting starting this quest for Etta – too many old memories were being reopened and once they were out in the open, it would be impossible to thrust them back into that part of her life labelled ‘forgotten’. Yet Molly had offered her the chance to stop now, she had said there seemed no point in going on, so why had she not grabbed the chance to push everything back into the past where it would remain hidden forever? She had no answer to that thorny question except to wonder if she was on a self-destruction mission.
She rose stiffly to her feet and began clearing out last night’s ashes and putting a fire on. Perhaps, she thought, she would feel better with some warmth and a good programme on the wireless. Then she would lie down on the settee and have a nap.
19
Peter Walsh was a worried man as he set off on his bike on the Sunday morning. He’d had a row with his wife at breakfast time and he could still hear her sharp words as he made his way through the deserted early morning streets. The bike wheels swished through the deep puddles but he barely noticed them because his mind was on more serious matters.
He knew he should never have taken the works van yesterday and now there was a huge dent in one of the wings. He was on his way to see Jimmy Flynn, his colleague at Milton’s joinery firm. Jimmy was the registered driver of the van and he would be in deep trouble as well. His only hope was Jimmy’s mate, Alex, who had a small garage in the back courtyard of his house. Peter was hoping and praying that Alex would be able to repair the dent.
Jimmy was waiting for him and he wasn’t pleased. ‘I told you to be careful with the van, didn’t I?’
Peter was ready with his story. ‘It was the heavy rain that caused it. The windscreen misted up and I went off the road and hit a fence.’ He made it sound as if the fence was the culprit. Almost as if it had jumped out and hit him.
Examining the damage, Jimmy said, ‘Well, we better get it over to Alex’s workshop and see what he can do.’ He turned to Peter. ‘And you’re going to foot the bill.’
Peter became more depressed. The argument this morning had been about money, or the lack of it. His wife had shouted at him, ‘I’ve not got enough to pay the electric bill and I’m two weeks in arrears with the rent.’ His two teenage daughters had sat silent at the table with their bowls of sugar puffs topped up with almost a pint of milk. No wonder money was tight in this house, he thought.
‘Well, I can’t help it if there’s been no overtime for weeks and that I had to stay off work for two weeks after I cut my hand,’ he shouted back in his defence. However, his wife was not listening to his side of the story. She had started her ranting and she intended to continue until she spelled out the entire financial pressure they were under.
Jimmy drove carefully from Kirkton to Muirhead. Alex lived in a lovely detached house on the outskirts of the village and he was already in his workshop. ‘Hullo guys,’ he said cheerily. ‘What brings you two out here so early on a Sunday morning?’
Jimmy showed him the dent. ‘Can you fix this right away, Alex? We’d be very grateful.’
Alex squatted down beside the damaged wing. ‘I think so. Luckily the paintwork’s not damaged so I’ll try and knock it back into shape. I’ll be about an hour, so just go in and Jackie will make you both a cup of coffee.’
Jackie was Alex’s wife and the fantasy of both Jimmy and Peter. She was beautiful with long black curly hair and she always had a golden tan. She also had some fabulous clothes. The two men sat in the kitchen while she moved around like a golden goddess, stretching up to reach the cups from a row of hooks under the wall cupboard. Peter couldn’t help but compare her to his own wife, Donna, with her white, pinched looking face and sharp tongue.
Within the hour, Alex appeared and went to wash his hands. ‘That’s the job done. Hopefully nobody will notice it’s been damaged. Who do I give the bill to?’
Jimmy pointed to Peter, who felt like giving up on everything. He worked like a navvy all week and what had he to show for it? Sweet nothing, that’s what.
When they were leaving, he said to Alex, ‘Do you think I can pay this bill a bit at a time, Alex? We’re short of money just now.’
Alex agreed but he said, ‘Now I want something every week without fail. Give it to Jimmy and he’ll pay me.’
As they drove away, Peter said, ‘What does Alex do apart from that garage?’
Jimmy tapped the side of his nose. ‘He’s an entrepreneur. He does a bit of this and that.’
‘Well, he must be making a fortune with his bit of this and that. I mean, look at his house and that gorgeous wife. Her clothes weren’t bought with the Co-op dividend.’ But he felt better now that the damage to the van had been repaired. If he cut down on his cigarettes for a few weeks, he could pay the bill off without Donna finding out.
As he hadn’t slept last night, he almost nodded off in the van until Jimmy nudged him. ‘On your bike, Peter,’ he said with a laugh.
‘Look, Jimmy, I’m really sorry about all this.’
‘Get away home. That’s what colleagues are for. I don’t want to know what you were doing last night, as that’s your business.’
Peter pedalled away back home, back through the deep puddles, but he noticed them this time and it brought back the memory of the storm last night.
20
Edna was pleased that the fortnight’s absence from her job with John was over. It was still dull and overcast but the rain had stopped as she hurried up the road and arrived just before nine. She had taken more care than usual with how she looked and had even gone to the hairdresser on Saturday to get a new style. Irene, her mum, had said it suited her and she hoped John would like it as well. She had been pleased when her mum said that and she knew she was acting like some young girl on a first date, instead of a widow with a young son.
As she approached the house, her stomach did a somersault. The house looked to be in darkness but she was relieved when she saw the faint fanlight above the door. She knocked and waited. Something wasn’t right. She knocked again, a bit louder this time, and she also pressed the bell. Suddenly, the door was yanked open and a sleepy-eyed Sonia gazed at her with annoyance. On seeing Edna, she pulled her dressing gown around her. ‘What do you want?’ she said.
By this time, Edna was also annoyed that she was still standing on the doorstep. ‘I’ve come to work for Mr Knox. He knows I’m starting today.’
‘Didn’t my fiancé tell your agency that you were no longer needed?’
Edna was confused. What did Sonia’s fiancé have to do with her employment with John? ‘Your fiancé, I don’t think I know him?’
Sonia took two steps towards her. ‘John is my fiancé. Oh, don’t tell me he didn’t let you know. What a forgetful man he is.’ She had her left hand on the door and the light from the hall caught the sparkle of a beautiful engagement ring. ‘Never mind,’ said Sonia. ‘I’ll phone your agency this morning to cancel your contract so just you run off home again.’
Edna was furious at her condescending tone but she tried hard not to show it. ‘I’m afraid you can’t do that. It has to be the person who hired me and that person is Mr Knox, so if you let me see him I think we can get this problem sorted out.’ Edna wasn’t sure if this was true or not but she wasn’t going to let Sonia tell her what to do.
‘He’s not here. He said to tell you and I doubt if it matters who hires or fires. Your agency will be paid for all the work you’ve done.’
So she wasn’t an empty-headed woman, thought Edna. She knows I’ve been bluffing. ‘Well, I have some of my things still in the house. They will be in the lounge where we did all the work.’
Sonia stood for a few minutes, undecided. ‘Oh, I suppose you better come in, then. Mind you, I’ve tidied everything away. I’ll be doing John’s shorthand and typing from now on and I can’t work in that dreadful untidy mess.’
Edna walked through the quiet house. Was John still asleep upstair
s? Then why didn’t he come down and face her himself? The lounge was like an advert from a glossy House & Garden magazine. All the wonderful clutter and homeliness of the original room was gone. She looked around but her small bag with her new notepads and pencils was nowhere to be seen.
Sonia sighed. ‘I put everything in a cupboard. Wait till I have a look. What is it you’ve left?’
Edna told her and she listened as the woman trotted off to the lobby. A minute later. she came back, empty-handed. ‘I’m sorry but I can’t find it. I think it must have been thrown out along with my fiancé’s rubbish.’
Edna was speechless. John’s rubbish, as she called it, was years of work he had done in preparation for writing his books. Edna stood for a few moments glancing around the room. She had loved this job and this room, and she now realised she loved John but it was too late. Perhaps if she had let him know, it would have turned out better but she still couldn’t understand where he was. As if reading her mind, Sonia said. ‘He’s gone to see his publisher and he won’t be back for another week or so. Then we’ll set the date for the wedding. At our age, we don’t want to hang about, do we?’ She made John sound like a ninety-year-old decrepit.
Edna had to leave, she had no choice, and as she walked away down the path, she realised she hadn’t given her good wishes to the bride-to-be. ‘Well, I don’t wish her any happiness,’ she muttered to herself and then suddenly felt guilty. ‘Yes, of course I wish her and John a happy life.’
When she reached Paradise Road, she felt on the verge of tears. Not wanting to face her mother and upset her, Edna retraced her steps and went to the agency. After all, she was now finished with this job and she would have to be allocated something else.
Molly was in the office and she looked up in surprise when Edna entered. She took one look at her face and ushered her upstairs to the flat. When she was sitting down, Edna burst into tears. Molly was at a loss at this sudden emotion. ‘What on earth has happened, Edna?’
Private Sorrow, A Page 10