He looked Tom in the eye. “So, is it over? Is that why yer all of a sudden coming outta yer shell and tekking up the skipper’s offer to go fishing?”
For what seemed an age Tom didn’t answer. Instead he walked slowly to the window, where he stared into the night. In his mind’s eye he could see the carnage on that day when he lost them all. “No!” His voice was like a whiplash in the quietness of the room. “It’s not over! Not yet.” But soon, he thought … very soon!
Sensing the rage inside him, the old man sidled up to Tom. Laying a tender hand on his arm, he warned, “Easy, son. I know what it’s like to be haunted by things yer can’t control.” He had an idea what Tom was going through, though not the reason for it. “Whatever it is yer need to do in order to regain peace of mind, I want you to remember one thing.”
Turning to look down on him, Tom asked the question without uttering one word. “Tek yer time, son,” the old man advised. “Don’t let rage and bitterness cloud yer judgment. Sometimes a man can’t see the wood for the trees. Be sure to remember that.”
Tom nodded appreciatively. He knew this man was his friend, and he was grateful for that. Yet he still couldn’t bring himself to talk about what happened. He squared his shoulders and, smiling, stood back. “How about if you put the cards away, while I get my jacket? I’ll see you home.”
Glancing out of the window, he was intrigued to see that all the houses were in darkness but for one. “We seem to be the last ones awake right now,” he commented, “except for that old house down by the green.” From where he stood, the light flickering in the front room was clearly visible.
Concerned, Jasper looked out of the window. “By! The lass is up late, and no mistake. I hope she’s all right.”
Tom was surprised. “Why shouldn’t she be?”
“Because there’s no electricity nor water, and yer know how long it teks ’em to turn it all back on. Quick enough to tek yer money though, the buggers!”
“Her name’s Kathy.” Unaware that Tom had seen Kathy as she sat on the wall eating her chips that night, the old man chatted on. “Her father left her the house, so she’s decided to come and live here.” Jasper thought that was about as much as he had a right to tell anyone, even Tom, except, “Soonever she’s got the house up to scratch, she’ll be looking for work. Now then … are yer walking back with me, or what?”
Kathy had just closed the curtains and made her way up to bed, taking the lamp with her, when she heard a tap on the door. A little nervous, she looked out of the window. “Who’s there?”
“It’s only me, lass.” The old man looked up. “I saw the light and wondered if yer were all right?”
Relieved, Kathy told him to wait and she would come down.
A moment later she was at the door. “I’m fine,” she told him, “but the sooner I get the electricity switched back on, the better.”
The old man was still anxious. “Yer should have booked into the guest-house, like I said,” he replied. “Yer should not be sleeping in that damp bed … and the sheets must need a good boil, if they are still in one piece, that is.”
Kathy laughed. “You’re a real worrier! Look, I washed the sheets by hand and dried them on a line outside. I went across to the shop with two hot-water bottles I found, and the lady very kindly filled them with hot water, so I could air the mattress. I’ve had Ovaltine and toast for my supper, and a crisp, rosy apple to finish.” She was grateful, though, for his concern. “I’m all right, Jasper, really I am.” In fact, she was already feeling very attached to the house.
The old man was content. “It seems yer can look after yersel,’” he remarked, “… an’ I’m just wastin’ me time.” He had reservations, though. “I’m still not sure about the bed. Are yer sure it’s fit to sleep on, lass?”
“Absolutely! Like I said … the sheets are washed, the mattress aired, and I’m not about to die of pneumonia, so will you stop worrying?” She gave him a smile. “Still, it is nice to have somebody worrying about me.”
“Right then, lass. I’d best leave yer to get some sleep,” he said. “Seems to me you’ve had a busy old day.”
Satisfied that she was coming to no harm, he went back down the path. “By! She’s not only bonny,” he told Tom, who had waited by the gate, “she’s capable, too.”
As the two of them walked away, Kathy caught sight of Tom. “Goodnight!” she called. Tom returned the greeting with a wave and a smile that Kathy found appealing.
Tom was curious. “Does she really mean to stay in that house all on her own?”
“As far as I know, yes. But, like I said, she seems capable enough.”
Five minutes later, having walked the old man home and chatted about this and that, Tom returned by way of Barden House. He hadn’t taken too much notice of it before, but even in the lamplight he could see how anyone might fall in love with the place.
At the corner he paused, his glance traveling upward to the window where she was when Jasper first spoke to her. “Brave girl,” he murmured. “She’s got her work cut out keeping that place up to scratch.” He smiled to himself. “She seems an independent sort; I don’t suppose she’d welcome the offer of help.”
His heart leapt when suddenly the curtain was drawn back and the window flung open and there was Kathy looking down on him. She didn’t speak, and neither did he. Instead they looked at each other for a long, mesmerizing moment, before he hurried away, embarrassed at having been caught loitering outside her house.
Kathy watched him stride away. “I don’t know who was more embarrassed … me or him.” She thought she might relate the incident in her next letter to Maggie. But, on second thoughts, it seemed such a private moment she decided not to.
They were both so deeply disturbed by the encounter that it was a long time before either of them could sleep.
Kathy lay snuggled up in her bed, absentmindedly watching the shifting skies through her window; while Tom paced the floor awhile, before picking up the photograph of his family. He stared at their familiar faces, and as always was filled with regret, and a sense of blind rage that even now he had not brought under control.
With Kathy’s face creeping into his mind, he felt the need to explain to his lost wife. “She’s like you, sweetheart … strong-minded and independent.” It tore at his heart to realize he had addressed her as though she was present.
Replacing the photograph, he strolled to the window, his gaze drawn back to Barden House. He stayed there for an age, looking and thinking … with Kathy’s face strong in his mind.
Soon, those other, horrifying images swept away all else. Knowing what he must do before he could ever have a life again, he closed the curtains.
The next morning, back in London, a young woman rushed into a florist’s shop. “Mrs. Taylor! It’s happened again!”
The manageress dropped the half-finished bouquet onto the counter. “What are you talking about?” Since sending Gloria out on her deliveries, she’d been rushed off her feet, and was not now in the sweetest of moods. “Have you delivered all the flowers?”
“Yes, but …”
“Go on! Spit it out.” She could see something had upset the girl, and now she was curious. “What’s happened?”
Gloria almost ran to the counter where, red-faced and flustered, she told her boss, “You know that order, to take flowers to the churchyard every fortnight … that poor family that got killed? Well, it’s happened again … The flowers I put there week before last … those beautiful roses and gypsophila … they were strewn all over the place. Somebody’s filled the vase with new flowers! I didn’t know what to do, so I squeezed ours in.”
She was close to tears. “That’s three times now, when somebody’s deliberately vandalized our flowers. Should we let Mr. Marcus know, d’you think, Mrs. Taylor?”
The manageress considered it for a swift moment before coming to the conclusion, “It can’t be children. They might take it into their nasty little heads to destroy the flowers, but
they’re not likely to spend a fortune on replacing them with their own, are they?”
“So, who is it then?”
“I wish I knew!” She had given it some thought before but she had not come up with any answers. “Who would do such a thing?” she asked angrily. “Anyway, I don’t think we should worry Mr. Marcus about it. We’ll just have to keep an eye on the situation.”
“Well, I think it’s weird!”
“That’s because you’ve got too vivid an imagination.”
Resuming her work, Margaret Taylor gave the order, “Move yourself, young lady. There’s work to be done.”
CHAPTER 6
LILIAN WAS IN a bad mood. With Tom gone, she felt lonely and irritable. Even her bright new colleague, Alice, with her bubbly manner and quick smile, couldn’t cheer her up.
“Whatever’s the matter with you?” Alice was at the end of her tether with Lilian’s misery. “You’ve been so bad-tempered … downright rude sometimes! Are you ill, is that it?”
All day long, Lilian had been snapping and snarling, and now with only five minutes to go before finishing for the day, she was seated at her desk, head in hands, seemingly oblivious to everything that was going on around her.
On hearing Alice’s remarks, she sat up to stare at the other young woman, her face unhappy. For a moment it seemed she might angrily rebuke Alice, but the moment was gone when Dougie walked in through the door. “All right, are you, girls?”
Delighted at having just concluded a new deal, he was full of himself. “So, who wants to kiss the man of the day?” Holding out his arms, he turned from one to the other, pretending to swoon when Alice planted a smacker on his cheek. “Well?” Leaning across her desk so he could look Lilian in the eye, he teased, “Too good to kiss an old mate, is that it?”
“Some other time, eh?” Lilian was in no mood for Dougie’s high spirits.
“Oh, dear, caught you in a bad temper, have I?” Catching Alice’s warning glance, he backed off. “Right then, I’d best get back to my desk … I’ve a few phone calls to make before I can get off home.”
As he went, he warned them, “It’s raining cats and dogs out there, so mind how you go, eh?” Alice thanked him. Lilian allowed a curt nod, and the merest of smiles.
Ten minutes later, after tying up a few loose ends, she had her coat on and was ready to leave.
“See you tomorrow,” she told Alice.
“I hope you’re in a better mood by then!” Alice muttered as the door closed behind her fretful colleague.
Giving Alice the fright of her life, the door opened again, and Lilian’s eyes sought her out; for a minute Alice thought she’d overheard her mutterings.
“Look, Alice … I’m sorry I’ve been in a foul mood all day.”
Relieved she wasn’t about to be hung, drawn and quartered after all, Alice told her not to worry, because she knew what it was like to have a bad day.
One by one the other offices emptied, until ten minutes later Alice and Dougie were the last to leave. “What’s wrong with Lilian?” Pausing in the foyer to prepare for the pouring rain, he remarked on how he’d never known her to be in such a bad mood.
Alice didn’t know for sure. “Maybe she’s not well,” she suggested. “I think she pushes herself too hard. She does twice the amount of work I do.” It was an odd thing. “Some days she seems tormented. It’s like she has to keep herself occupied every minute. Me … I like to go down the street to the coffee shop for my lunch. It breaks the day up, if you know what I mean. But Lilian doesn’t leave the office from the minute she comes in to the minute she goes home. She has her tea and sandwich at her desk, and if she goes to the ladies’ room, the first thing she wants to know when she gets back is whether there’ve been any calls for her.”
Dougie was beginning to understand. “And have there?”
“What?”
“Been any calls?”
Alice pondered on that. “It’s usually one or other of the architects, asking for her to go in when she gets back … or the boss sometimes calls down. Why?”
“I just wondered, that’s all.” Turning his collar up, he asked her if she needed a lift. “You’ll get soaked to the skin in this lot.” By now the rain was bouncing off the pavements, and leaving puddles in its wake.
Alice graciously declined. “Mum and Dad have got friends for dinner, so Ron’s taking me back to his place. I’m cooking us a meal.” She glanced down the road. “He should be here any minute.”
Dougie gave her a playful nudge. “Sounds to me like there’s marriage on the cards.”
Blushing all shades of pink, she told him shyly, “You sound like my mum!” She laughingly mimicked her: “‘You’re coming up to twenty-five, Alice my girl! It’s time you settled down with some nice young man!’ Honest to God, she goes on all the time.”
He winked. “Well? Is there or isn’t there?”
She shook her head, and he got the idea that the discussion was over.
“Right then. I’d best make a run for it.”
Taking his life in his hands, he bid her good night and went out into the rain. Looking this way and that, he ran across the street, splashing through puddles and trying to dodge the deluge that rained down on his back. “Bloody weather!” he grumbled, scrambling into his car. “Brilliant sunshine one minute and all hell let loose the next! It’s enough to give you pneumonia!”
Fumbling with his keys, he took a minute to open the car, during which he got soaked through to his shirt. “Brr!” Falling into the seat, he let out a long, withering sigh. “Straight into a hot bath when I get in –” he gave a little chuckle – “after I’ve had a sizeable tot of brandy to warm me up.” He began to look forward to it.
As he pulled out, he saw Lilian huddled in a doorway near the bus stop. “Hey!” Winding down the window, he called out to her, “Get in the car, I’ll take you home.”
She waved him on. “It’s all right, thanks. The bus will be along any minute now.”
He wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Come on, get in! I can take you right to your doorstep.” Flinging open the door, he urged, “Hurry up. Make a run for it!”
With the nose of his car jutting out in the road and traffic having to swerve around him, Lilian could hardly carry on arguing the point, so she pulled her coat over her head and ran for it.
Once she was safely inside, she gave him instructions to her house. He pushed the car into gear and was on his way.
“Sensible woman,” he said as he drew out onto the road. “If you’d waited for me back at the office I could have saved you getting all wet.”
“I’ll soon dry out, don’t worry.” She glanced around the interior of the car. “This is new, isn’t it?”
He grinned like a boy with a new toy. “My new Ford,” he answered proudly. “I thought you’d never notice.”
“When did you get it?”
“Picked it up this morning. I reckon I deserved it.”
Lilian’s hitherto bad mood was beginning to mellow. “Some of us can’t afford a car at all, never mind a new one.”
“Huh! You wouldn’t think so. I had a hell of a job trying to park this morning. It wasn’t so long back that I could pick and choose where I parked. Lately it seems to me like every man and his dog is buying a car … and here’s me thinking it was the privilege of the rich and famous.”
“Oh!” she teased him back. “So you’re rich and famous now, are you?”
“I can’t complain!” Like his brother Tom, he had amassed a healthy bank balance since he had returned from the war, though he wouldn’t call himself rich. “I dare say me and Tom are well off by most standards,” he admitted. “But it didn’t fall into our laps, far from it! We’ve worked hard for it.” He lapsed into silence for a time, then added, half to himself, “We’ve both paid the price, though … Instead of Tom spending more time with his kids and wife, he was always on the move. I’ve no doubt but that he regrets every second lost with them.” He shook his head. “Jes
us Christ! What does money mean when compared to happiness?”
Lilian asked the same question everyone had asked at some time or another since the tragedy. “Do you think they’ll ever catch the man who ran them off the road?”
“Well, they haven’t caught him yet,” Dougie answered angrily. “If you ask me, the trail’s gone cold.” He wondered about it all. “Strange that …” He finished thoughtfully, “… Why would anybody want to kill an entire family?”
Lilian agreed, though she added, “Maybe it really was an accident after all – even the police thought that at one point.”
Dougie shook his head. “Tom swears he was rammed by that other car, and I for one believe him. Besides, even if it was an accident, they should have been able to trace the other car! Instead they’ve let him get clean away.”
Now, as he felt the anger rising in him, he changed the subject. “You never got married, did you?”
Taken by surprise at his abrupt change of direction, Lilian answered warily, “I don’t see what that’s got to do with anything.”
He felt the barriers go up and inwardly swore at himself for being so unfeeling. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
She took a moment, then said, “No, I never did get married.”
He was curious. “Any particular reason?”
“No.” She felt uncomfortable. “I just never met the right man, that’s all. And with the war, and everything – there weren’t that many to choose from …” Her voice trailed off.
“Well, take it from me,” he warned, “romance isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” He sounded bitter about the way things had turned out; Lilian knew there was talk of a broken engagement in his past.
They were near her house now. “Turn right here and straight on, then first left, Camden Street. I’m halfway down.”
For the next few minutes they continued to chat about work, and about his latest deal. “I’ve been after that shopping-arcade job for months,” he admitted. “It’s my biggest yet.” He chuckled. “I don’t mind telling you, the boss was over the moon.”
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