by Maureen Lee
‘No!’ Sarah screamed, lunging at her husband. ‘You’re not taking my children away.’
‘Well, well, well, what’s going on here?’ said a voice and Alex came face to face with the tall figure of Ernest Burrows, who was standing outside, arms folded, legs apart, looking as if nothing on earth would move him.
‘Fuck off!’ Alex spat.
‘I heard noises. What’s happening?’ A curious Marie Jordan emerged from the house next door.
Rachel Williams came hurrying out of Three Farthings. ‘Is everything all right? I could hear Jack screaming. Oh, the poor dear, he’s lost his blanket.’
‘Get out the way, the lot of you,’ Alex snarled.
‘If you’re not careful, you’ll drop that baby,’ Rachel warned. Alastair had woken and begun to cry.
‘Look,’ Alex said reasonably. ‘These are my kids. If I don’t take them now, I’ll only take them another time.’
‘That’s funny,’ Ernest said reasonably. ‘I thought they were Sarah’s.’
‘So did I,’ agreed Rachel.
‘And so did I,’ Marie echoed.
‘They are, they are,’ Sarah cried.
‘In that case,’ Ernest said to Alex, ‘I don’t think I can let you take them.’
‘Who the hell d’you think you are?’ demanded an incensed Alex.
‘A concerned citizen,’ replied Ernest gravely. ‘Someone who doesn’t approve of men who hit their wives. I saw the way you pushed your way in and thumped her. By the way, me own wife’s rung the police. They should be along any minute – in fact, that’ll be them now.’
The wail of a police siren could be heard in the distance. Everyone stood very still as it got closer and closer, then Rachel leaped forward and snatched Alastair from his father’s arms, Tiffany released Jack’s hand, Sarah pulled him away, and Alex was left, childless, a look of panic on his face as the siren got louder. He jumped into the Rolls – no one tried to prevent him – and was backing out of the square when the police car drove in, stopping with a shriek of brakes and blocking his way.
After everyone had given statements and the police had taken Alex away, they gathered in the Jordans’ house for a cup of tea, including a stunned Victoria, who had missed all the drama and had only been alerted by the siren, and a jubilant Anna who had been making her slow way, unnoticed, across to the scene of Ernie’s triumph – everyone agreed it was Ernie who was the hero of the hour.
‘You were wonderful, darling,’ Anna cooed, kissing him.
An embarrassed Ernest stayed only a few minutes and returned to cleaning the windows, leaving the women and children to themselves.
‘He’s always been exceptionally brave,’ Anna told the assembled company.
‘After today, your husband won’t try to take the children away again,’ Rachel assured Sarah.
Sarah shuddered. She was still shaking and her ribs were hurting badly. ‘I still don’t trust him. He said he was going to take them abroad.’
‘Don’t want to go abroad with Daddy,’ Tiffany announced.
‘I don’t blame you, darling,’ Anna said sympathetically. ‘Such an awful person, terribly uncouth. I’ve always said, never trust a man who wears chalk-striped suits.’
‘I used to admire them.’ Sarah sniffed. ‘They’re Italian and cost the earth. He’s got dozens more at home.’
‘How on earth did a man like that acquire a hyphenated name?’ Marie enquired.
‘He used to be Alex James,’ Sarah explained. ‘The “Rees” was added when he started to make money.’
‘It should be “Creep”,’ Victoria said disgustedly. ‘Alex Creep-James.’
At that, everyone started to laugh. They laughed till they cried, although it wasn’t remotely funny, but it helped release the tension.
‘I’m amazed you didn’t hear anything,’ Rachel said over lunch with Kathleen. Earlier, Anna had recommended a very nice, very regal restaurant in Bold Street that had once been the Atheneum Club. ‘The police siren was very loud.’
Kathleen turned faintly pink. ‘We heard the siren, but we were busy with something and didn’t realize it was actually in the square.’
‘It was like a film.’ Rachel still felt imbued with the excitement of the morning that had ended with all the women in Marie Jordan’s kitchen. She was friends again with Sarah, which was a relief. ‘Ernie Burrows was Clint Eastwood and Sarah’s husband was the villain. It ended with good triumphing over evil.’
‘As Clint Eastwood’s films always do. Steve will be cross when I tell him. He should have been outside, supporting Ernie – not that it sounds as if he needed it.’
‘No, he was marvellous. Someone came later and took the Rolls away. I wonder,’ Rachel said thoughtfully, ‘why on earth Sarah married such a revolting individual?’
‘Perhaps he wasn’t revolting when she married him, or at least was pretending not to be.’
Rachel sighed. ‘I don’t suppose anyone really knows what the person they marry will be like until they’re actually married to them.’
‘That’s an argument for living together,’ Kathleen said thoughtfully. ‘So many people do it nowadays. Would you like afters, Rachel?’
‘No thank you. The lasagne was lovely, but very filling, and I really must lose weight. It’s not so much the amount I eat, but the lack of exercise.’
‘Shall we have another glass of wine? There’s enough left in the bottle. I’ll order coffee in a minute.’
‘It’s awfully nice of you to treat me. It’ll be my turn next time.’
‘I’m already looking forward to it,’ Kathleen twinkled. ‘I wish I’d known what was going on this morning. It would have been an opportunity to meet everyone. The only people in the square I’ve spoken to are Anna and Ernie Burrows and you.’
‘You and Steve seem to keep a very low profile.’
Kathleen went pink again. ‘We’re still sorting out the house, wondering where to put things. Can we have two coffees, please,’ she said when the waitress came to remove their plates. ‘What sort would you like, Rachel?’
‘A cappuccino.’
‘And I’ll have a latte. Now,’ she said when the waitress had gone, ‘as soon as we’ve finished, I’d like to go to George Henry Lee’s and look at clothes.’
‘I wouldn’t mind buying something new,’ Rachel remarked. There was still plenty of Christopher’s money left. ‘About what you said earlier, would you like me to invite everyone round to our house in the morning so you can meet them?’
‘That’s a wonderful idea. I’d love it.’
Kathleen bought a long, flowing black skirt patterned with red cabbage roses and a red cotton top to match. Rachel, rooting through rows of dresses, was beginning to feel like a normal person for a change.
‘This would suit you,’ Kathleen pulled out a dark green silky dress that was long and straight with splits in the side. ‘It’s very slimming. It would look great with strappy sandals.’
‘Except I haven’t got any.’
‘Well, buy some. Have you noticed Anna Burrows often wears gold sandals? They look terribly exotic and smart. I wouldn’t mind a pair myself.’
‘I’d better try the dress on first, then we’ll look at sandals.’ She was actually enjoying herself. Perhaps she could buy gold earrings too, although it was so long since she’d worn them, the holes could well have closed up.
Kathleen waited outside while Rachel went into a cubicle to try on the dress. She removed the rather tired cotton thing she was wearing, slipped the new one over her head, and looked at the result in the mirror. Kathleen was right, it was very slimming and would suit being worn with gold sandals. She stared critically at her reflection. The problem was that her hair badly let her down. She recalled that in the days when she’d cared about her appearance she’d used to have it cut very short and casual and it hadn’t looked so flat. There might be time to have it cut that afternoon.
She was about to remove the dress when she became conscious of vo
ices in the next cubicle.
‘What do you think, pet, the pink one or the blue one?’
‘I like the pink one best, Mummy,’ a childish voice replied.
‘I knew you’d say that, Emma. You’ve got a thing about pink.’
‘You look beautiful in both, Mummy. You look beautiful in everything.’
Ten minutes later, when Kathleen peeked around the curtain to ask why Rachel was taking such a long time to make up her mind, she found her sitting on a stool, weeping uncontrollably. ‘My little girl is dead,’ she sobbed. ‘I don’t care about dresses. It doesn’t matter what I look like any more. It doesn’t matter about anything.’
*
It was almost six o’clock when Kathleen arrived home. ‘That was a long lunch,’ Steve complained sulkily.
‘I’m sorry, darling, have you been feeling neglected?’ She kissed him. ‘Actually, I was back by four. I’ve been in Rachel’s house. She’s in a terrible state, poor thing, so mixed up. Her little girl died eighteen months ago and she still hasn’t got over it – not that anyone ever gets over losing a child – but she hasn’t learned to live with it, put it that way. I got the impression her husband isn’t very sympathetic and her other children aren’t much help. I think that’s why she’s having this barbecue, in order to make friends. Shall we go out for a meal? I helped Rachel with dinner, so I’ve had enough of cooking.’ She became aware that Steve was still looking sulky. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
‘I didn’t know you made a habit of picking up stray dogs,’ he said coldly. ‘If you’re so concerned about this woman, why can’t you understand the way I feel about Jean?’
Wordlessly, Kathleen went into the bedroom, put her new skirt and top on a hanger, and hung them in the wardrobe. Steve watched from the door. ‘I bought these today,’ she said.
‘Good for you.’ He folded his arms. ‘I just asked you a question.’
‘Which I’m not prepared to answer because it’s so stupid,’ she said scathingly. ‘If you can’t see the difference between a woman whose five-year-old daughter drowned and your whinging bitch of a wife, then I feel sorry for you.’ She pushed past him. ‘And kindly don’t ever again refer to Rachel as a stray dog, or I’ll walk out of this house and never come back.’
She was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea and a cigarette, when Steve appeared, looking contrite.
‘I’m sorry. It was a daft thing to say. I suppose I just wanted you to understand how I feel.’ He sat at the table and looked at her beseechingly. ‘I’ve known Jean all me life. We lived in the same street. She were in the class after me at school, and only sixteen when we first went out together. Three years later, we got married. Until I met you, she’s the only woman I ever loved. I suppose you could say she’s become part of me, and now that part’s hurting and it makes me feel as guilty as hell.’
‘Would you feel any less guilty if you went to see her?’
‘I dunno,’ he sighed.
‘Don’t you think she’ll only cry even more when you leave a second time?’
‘I suppose.’ He sighed again.
‘And if you decided to stay,’ Kathleen said levelly, although she seriously wanted to scream, ‘she’ll be all lovey dovey for a few weeks, then the fact you walked out, had an affair, will be added to your list of crimes, and your life will be even worse than it was before.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of staying.’ He looked hurt at the very idea.
‘Then I don’t see the point of you going in the first place. Actually,’ she angrily stubbed out the cigarette, ‘I don’t know why we’re having this crazy conversation. We came away together and all you can think of is the bloody wife you left behind – although she’s not really left behind, is she, Steve? You brought her with you. She’s in your head and in your heart. I don’t think there’s room for another woman in your life, only Jean.’
Gareth had only been home a few minutes and was nursing a delighted Tabitha, who was furiously licking his face, when his mobile rang. It was Debbie.
‘I’ve been waiting all day for you to call,’ she said. ‘I thought you might want to apologize.’
‘For what?’
‘For the things you said last night, for opening my letters.’
‘Are you going to apologize for secretly acquiring a credit card and spending so much on it?’ he asked frostily.
‘Only if you apologize first.’
‘I’ve no intention of apologizing for anything.’
‘In that case, I’m not coming home. I’m going to stay the night at my mum’s again.’
‘Suits me, Deb,’ he said laconically and rang off. He had a wash, changed his T-shirt for a fresh one, combed his hair, and was on his way to the old house on the corner when he remembered Tabitha’s ecstatic welcome. The poor little thing must feel lonely. He returned for the kitten and took him to Victoria’s.
‘Oh, hello,’ Victoria said, beaming at him. ‘I’ve got company: Danny and Tiffany are upstairs. Danny’s playing on the computer and Tiffany’s watching. She’s only four, but madly in love with him. Come in, I was just about to make meself a cheese omelette. D’you fancy one? I’ve loads of eggs.’
Gareth realized he was starving. He’d been so anxious to see her it hadn’t crossed his mind to have something to eat before he left. ‘I’d love a cheese omelette. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve brought someone with me. This is Tabitha. She’s a he, despite the name.’
‘Hello, Tabitha. Oh, aren’t you gorgeous?’ Victoria reached for the kitten and cuddled him to her chest. ‘We used to have a cat, his name was Blizzard – please don’t ask why. He was nearly twenty when he died and Gran was so upset, she vowed never to have another. I’m glad in a way. I couldn’t have gone to America and left a cat behind.’
They went into the kitchen. Victoria explained she’d put the frying pan in one of the plastic bags to be given away and it had taken ages to find it again. ‘I spent most of today cleaning and polishing. I never realized there were so many cobwebs on the ceilings – I had to unearth the feather duster too.’
‘There’s not much left to do now, is there?’
Victoria shrugged and wrinkled her nose. ‘The whole place could do with decorating from top to bottom. The wallpaper’s older than I am. I’ve had to leave the pictures up because the wall’s a completely different colour behind them.’
‘I was only thinking last night how much I liked your pictures,’ Gareth remarked. ‘All we have are modern prints in stainless steel frames. They’re dead uninspiring to look at.’
‘Then why on earth did you buy them?’
‘Debbie did. She thought they went with the house.’
‘You should have chosen them together. I thought that’s what married couples did.’
Gareth recalled that, in fact, this was roughly what had happened; he just hadn’t made a squeak of protest when Debbie had picked the miserable daubs that pretended to be paintings. Either he was too easygoing by a mile, or a craven coward, the sort of man who was perfectly content to let his wife wear the trousers. He changed the subject, not wanting Victoria to know he’d had as much say about what went into Hamilton Lodge as Tabitha. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this,’ he said impulsively.
‘What, the omelette?’
‘No …’ There was a long pause. ‘Seeing you again,’ he said softly.
Victoria put Tabitha on the floor. She turned away and began to break eggs into a bowl. ‘Do you want two eggs or three?’
‘Three, please.’
She broke another egg and whisked them madly with a fork. ‘I was hoping you’d come tonight.’ Her voice was very low and he could only just make out the words.
‘I like you very much,’ Gareth said even more softly than before.
‘And I like you,’ Victoria whispered.
‘I wish you weren’t going away.’
‘So do I, but it’s a good thing that I am, under the circumstances.’
‘Victor
ia?’
‘Yes, Gareth?’ She turned towards him, smiling, but her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
‘Come here.’ He put his hands on her shoulders and was about to kiss her smiling lips when an unearthly scream came from upstairs.
‘A kitten! I didn’t know you had a kitten, Victoria. Mummy’s going to buy us a kitten, and a puppy too.’ Tiffany came scrambling downstairs, Tabitha in her arms. ‘Is it a boy cat or a girl?’
‘It’s a boy,’ Gareth told her. ‘His name’s Tabitha and he belongs to me.’
‘He jumped on my knee.’ Tiffany looked immensely flattered.
‘He must have liked you straight away.’
‘Can I take him home to show Mummy?’
‘I don’t think that’s such a good idea. He wriggles like mad when he wants to get down and he might escape and not know where to go – he’s a bit too young yet to know which house he lives in.’
‘Then can’t you bring him to show Mummy?’ Tiffany persisted.
‘But Victoria’s just about to make us something to eat.’
‘The omelettes can wait a few minutes,’ Victoria said. They looked at each other, the spell between them broken.
‘Oh, all right then,’ Gareth said reluctantly. ‘Come on, Tabitha. You’re very popular tonight.’
At the Rees-Jameses, Tabitha was duly admired and petted. The delectable Sarah showed him to the baby, who chuckled and waved his arms in delight, and the little boy, Jack, demanded that they keep him.
‘We’ll get one of our own soon,’ Sarah promised. ‘You must think of a name for our kitten, Jack.’
‘Jason,’ Jack said promptly.
Gareth was a bit dismayed when Tiffany returned with him to Victoria’s. ‘Isn’t it time you went to bed,’ he said sternly when they were outside. Tabitha had fallen asleep against his neck.
‘But I left Oliver behind, he’ll be terribly upset, and I haven’t said goodnight to Danny,’ she said as she trotted along beside him. ‘I’m going to marry Danny when I grow up. I was going to marry Oliver, but I’ve changed my mind. He can be me and Danny’s little boy instead.’