by Kitty Neale
Rhona shut her eyes briefly. If only it were that simple. Jeff had only seen Penny in the Talisman when she was dressed up to the nines. If he saw her now, looking washed out and wan, he might guess and she didn’t think Penny would want anyone to know that she was pregnant, especially now that Gary had deserted her. There was only one thing for it. ‘I’ll tell her,’ she said. ‘It will be better coming from me.’
‘But won’t that be hard on you?’ asked Jeff. ‘I mean, I know you and Gary were an item for a while and I’m not daft. When you weren’t on the scene for a while, he soon gravitated to Penny and that must have hurt. Will you be OK?’
Rhona stared at him in amazement. She wasn’t used to such sensitivity from men and it temporarily disarmed her. She blushed. ‘Don’t worry about me. She did me a favour really, showing me what Gary was like underneath all the trendy clothes and big talk. Anyway, I’ve made up with her, so I’ll be fine. It’s her I’m worried about. The only thing I really miss about Gary is the guitar lessons.’
Jeff laughed. ‘And they wouldn’t have lasted long anyway. Are you serious about learning? Properly, I mean, not just strumming along to whatever’s in the top ten? If so, I could teach you.’’
Rhona’s eyes brightened. ‘Top ten? No thanks. You’ll be asking me if I like Herman’s Hermits next.’ She paused and shuddered, remembering what trouble she’d got into just trying to track down a guitar to buy. She was ready to give up the idea after that – the attack, on top of the glandular fever, seemed to be fate’s way of telling her girls weren’t meant to play music after all. However, something shifted and her instincts told her there was nothing dodgy about Jeff. She could trust him, she was sure, and he didn’t seem about to make a pass at her or offer her lessons if she’d sleep with him first. He cared about Penny, even if she was only his friend’s girlfriend, so he must be decent and she came to a decision. ‘If you mean it, yeah, I’m interested. When do we start?’
Chapter Twenty-Five
On Saturday morning Mavis was cleaning the kitchen, getting the chores out of the way before taking the children for a picnic. The sun was shining and it made her hope for a real Indian summer. Now they were closer to Peckham Rye Common and the park beyond they could easily carry their hamper over to the big stretch of grass, and the boys could take a football. Jenny was bringing Greg over to join them, and as Lily wanted to go to the hairdresser’s to get her roots done, she was only too glad to let Bobby come along too.
The doorbell went and Mavis assumed it would be Jenny. Humming to herself, Mavis ran down the stairs and flung open the door but it wasn’t Jenny on the doorstep. Instead it was two uniformed policemen.
‘Mrs Pugh?’ the shorter one asked.
Mavis wanted to reply ‘not for much longer’ but stopped herself. She hoped nothing had happened to Jenny and Greg on their way over. ‘Yes,’ she said hesitantly, her voice faltering. ‘What is it? Is somebody hurt?’
‘Just routine, ma’am,’ the taller one answered. ‘May we come in?’
Lily came down the corridor to see what was going on. ‘Is everything all right?’ she asked worriedly.
‘Yes, this is just routine, ma’am,’ was said again.
‘Then you’d better come through,’ said Lily, leading the way.
‘And you are …?’ the short one asked when they reached Lily’s kitchen.
‘This is my mother,’ said Mavis, growing increasingly worried. ‘Please, can you tell us what this is about?’
‘Mrs Culling, is that right? That saves us some time then as we want to talk to you too.’
‘About what?’
The tall one leant against the countertop and took a moment to get out his notebook. ‘We’re making enquiries about the holiday you just took in Torquay,’ he began, turning to look at Mavis. ‘We understand that while you were there, your husband died, Mrs Pugh.’
‘Yes, but we were separated. We didn’t even know he was there, did we, Mum? We only went there because our friends knew a good B and B.’
‘The bloody man buggered off and left her and the kids without two pennies to rub together,’ Lily said angrily. ‘He’s no loss.’
The short policeman leant forward with interest. ‘Is that right, Mrs Culling?’
Mavis put out her arm to restrain Lily. ‘Mum,’ she warned in a low voice. ‘That’s all water under the bridge.’ She turned back to the short policeman. ‘It’s sad that Alec died but we’d had no contact for two years.’
The tall officer checked his notebook. ‘We understand that you are now engaged to be married, Mrs Pugh.’
Mavis was startled but managed to answer. ‘Well, yes.’
‘And that your fiancé, Thomas Wilson, was also on holiday with you in Devon.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Now hold on. What’s this all about?’ Lily demanded.
‘There’s no need to get overexcited, Mrs Culling,’ the short officer said firmly. ‘We are simply making preliminary enquiries. What we need to establish is exactly when you learnt Mr Pugh was in Torquay.’
Mavis thought back to when Tommy had come to break the news to her. He had seen Alec in Devon but hadn’t told her, and some instinct told her not to pass on that bit of information. Anyway the policeman had only asked when they had learned he was there, not when anyone else had found out. ‘Not until we got back,’ she said. ‘I saw his photo in the paper. The Daily Mail, I think it was.’
‘We had no bleeding idea he was just down the road,’ Lily agreed. ‘I’m glad we didn’t know. He used to beat Mavis and the children and it would have ruined the kids’ holiday if they’d seen him.’
The tall policeman shut his notebook. ‘Very well, Mrs Pugh, Mrs Culling. We may have more questions for you at a later date. However, we can also inform you that your fiancé, Thomas Wilson, was arrested this morning.’
Mavis gasped and put her hands to her face. ‘Arrested? Why?’
‘For the suspected murder of Charles Collier, otherwise known as Alec Pugh.’
Pete stared at the envelope in his hands as he sat in the café, his tea growing cold in front of him. His hands shook. The letter of final notice from the bank had arrived that morning and he could no longer delay the inevitable. He’d been kidding himself that if he kept his fingers crossed a miracle would happen but it wasn’t to be. The bank wanted their money back and they wanted it now. He knew he didn’t have it.
He’d been first up at home and had checked the post, as he had done every day since they’d got back from holiday. Thank God Lily was too busy getting Bobby ready for the picnic and going on about having her roots done. He’d told her he had something to sort out at work and left early, and had come round to the café near the market to read the details of the letter. He didn’t want to risk a repeat of the other day, with Mavis or Lily catching sight of it.
‘Do you want a top-up?’ asked the waitress. ‘A drop of hot?’
‘Nah, I’m all right.’
‘Do you fancy something to eat; a fry-up?’
Pete shook his head, the thought of food turning his stomach. ‘No thanks. I had something earlier,’ he replied with a forced smile.
The waitress moved off as a group of shoppers arrived, struggling with heavy bags of fruit and veg. Pete slumped in relief. He didn’t want to be disturbed. He had to think hard. He’d kept going by robbing Peter to pay Paul, but now he’d been caught out. He hadn’t been able to drum up anything extra over the past weeks. His last hope had been that the council bigwig had returned to London by the time they all got back, but there was still no word. He had to face it: the major project wasn’t happening. Or, if it did, it would be too late for him. He’d be bankrupt before it began and if he wasn’t careful they’d all be homeless as well.
Pete began to run through his dwindling list of remaining options. No other bank would touch him – they’d see he was a bad risk, and he had no remaining family to ask for help. He prided himself on principle never to ask friends for a lo
an, and when it came down to it most of his mates didn’t have much in the bank at the best of times. Pete thought hard. What about Tommy? He’d said that he was doing well and that there had been a flood of enquiries just before they’d left for their trip, and he’d even done some business while they were in Devon. That must mean he was pretty successful.
With a small groan of anguish, Pete slumped over the table. He hated to do this, to ask Tommy for a loan, but he had no choice. It had to be done and he’d have to swallow what was left of his pride and go cap-in-hand to the younger man. At least Tommy was practically family now, and what were families for if not to help one another out in times of need.
That thought made Pete feel slightly better and, abandoning his cold tea untouched, he set off before he lost his nerve.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It was after ten o’clock that morning by the time Rhona left her house. She’d delayed visiting Penny until her conscience wouldn’t let her put it off any longer. She should have gone after speaking to Jeff yesterday, but her mum had her dinner waiting and she was late enough as it was. It was the excuse her mind provided and she had still been looking for excuses that morning. Her mother had asked her to run to the shops to get bread and milk, so that had served to delay her, and besides she reasoned, it would look funny turning up at Penny’s house before at least ten o’clock.
Rhona still didn’t know what she could say to soften the blow of Gary’s desertion. She’d been kept awake for ages fruitlessly trying to think of a way. Realistically she doubted that Gary would have stood Penny, though Penny wouldn’t want to hear that. She still thought the sun shone out of his arse, but Rhona cursed him for being a self-centred, fame-hungry coward who slept with women and then dropped them whenever it suited him.
She ran through the alternatives for Penny in her head. Have the baby, keep it, and get sent to Coventry by everyone. Have the baby, give it up for adoption, never see it again or know what became of it. Try to find a safe back-street abortionist … no, not an option. Try to find Gary … no, he was hardly going to drop everything and make an honest woman of Penny when he’d just been given the prospect of an endless line of fans and backing singers to get off with. Whichever way she looked at it, Rhona was stumped.
She had to ring the doorbell three times to get a response. Good, at least that probably meant Penny’s parents weren’t around. Eventually Penny came to the door, looking more bedraggled than ever in a grubby pale-grey dressing gown, her hair still flat and greasy. She couldn’t have been more different to the energetic young woman who’d loved to go nightclubbing. There were bags under her eyes and she looked twice her age.
Rhona tried to hide her dismay. At this rate everyone would know something was badly wrong. ‘Hiya,’ she said, deliberately cheerful. ‘Aren’t you going to let me in?’
Penny mumbled something and turned to go back inside. Rhona couldn’t help noticing that she didn’t smell too good.
‘Why don’t we sit in the back yard?’ she suggested. The late summer sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud to be seen. ‘Put a bit of colour in your cheeks.’
‘If you like.’ Penny didn’t seem to care either way. ‘As long as none of those nosy old bags who live either side of us see me or hear us talking. They’d love to know I’m pregnant. It would give them something to gossip about.’
‘We’ll keep our voices down, though can I have something cold to drink first. I’m parched.’
‘We’ve got some lemon barley water. Will that do?’
‘Lovely. You having some?’
Penny pulled a face. ‘I can’t keep anything down, not even that. Anyway it tastes funny.’
Rhona shrugged and accepted the cold drink, downing most of it in one gulp. ‘Come on, let’s go outside.’
‘So, have you had any ideas?’ Penny asked, almost whispering as she sank onto a wooden bench that was close to the back door.
Rhona hesitated. There was no going back now. She’d better just come out and say it straight. ‘Not yet, but I’ve got some news,’ she began carefully, keeping a close eye on her friend. ‘Jeff came to see me yesterday evening after work.’
‘Jeff?’ Penny sat up in surprise. ‘Didn’t know you knew him.’
‘Well, I don’t, not really. I met him once at the basement bar and well, he … he had news about Gary.’
‘Gary? I haven’t been to the club so has he sent me a message?’ Penny asked eagerly.
Rhona took a deep breath and then said in a rush, ‘Penny, you’ve got to prepare yourself. Gary’s gone. He’s got into a group as a guitarist and they’ve left to go on tour.’
Penny stared at her as if she was talking a foreign language. ‘What? Don’t be daft. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t go off without telling me. He loves me, he said so.’
‘Yeah, well, he’s fond of telling girls that he loves them,’ said Rhona, ‘me included.’
‘Don’t be nasty, Rhona.’
‘Penny, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it worse, but he’s gone, love. He didn’t leave a message for you, or for anyone. He just went off the moment he got the chance and as they’re touring, he won’t be back any time soon.’
Penny stared at her. She had gone even whiter and the purple bags under her haunted eyes stood out like fresh bruises. ‘He can’t have,’ she whispered. ‘He loves me. He does. He says so all the time. He wouldn’t do this to me. It’s a mistake.’
‘Penny, it isn’t a mistake.’ Rhona put an arm around her. ‘Listen to me. It’s the truth. I’m really sorry, but that’s what has happened. Gary’s gone off to be a pop star and he’s left his old life behind.’
Suddenly Penny gave a loud howl and pushed Rhona away. ‘Stop it! You’re lying to me! It’s all a plot so you can get Gary back. Well it isn’t going to work! He loves me, not you! He hasn’t gone away, he wouldn’t. He loves me and chose me over you. Get away from me and stop telling me these horrible lies. It’s not true, he hasn’t gone!’
‘He has, Penny,’ said Rhona as she tried to rub Penny’s back to comfort her.
Tears of anguish began to flow down Penny’s cheeks. ‘He can’t have gone, he can’t have left me.’
‘He has,’ Rhona insisted again, ‘and I’m really sorry.’
‘No …’ wailed Penny, burying her face in her hands. She rocked to and fro while Rhona continued to rub her back, thinking that if the neighbours were in earshot and hadn’t known before, they certainly would now.
‘Come on, Penny,’ she urged after a while. ‘If Gary had loved you, he wouldn’t have just gone off without a word. He’s not worth your tears and I’m not just saying that because he dumped me, it’s the truth.’
‘Oh, Rhona, what am I going to do?’ Penny sobbed.
‘We’ll think of something,’ Rhona said gently, but in truth, she had no idea what advice she could offer.
The sun beat down on them and flies buzzed about the dustbin by the back wall, their drone audible between the sobs, but then suddenly Penny abruptly stood up and leaned forward, clutching her stomach as she cried, ‘Rhona, something’s wrong. Oh, it hurts!’
Rhona saw it then; the pool of red liquid that was seeping through Penny’s dirty dressing gown. When it began to run down the inside of her legs, Penny saw it too and screamed, ‘What’s wrong me? Why am I bleeding? Help, Rhona!’
Rhona felt panic rising in her chest but knew that somehow she had to do something. She put her arm around Penny and said as calmly as she could, ‘Come on, we have to get you inside. Lean on me.’
Penny moaned in pain with every step but she kept going, trembling and unsteady on her feet but held up by Rhona. With her free shoulder, Rhona shoved open the back door and almost dragged Penny inside, where she collapsed onto the floor beside the small kitchen table.
Rhona saw a tea towel and hoping it was clean she grabbed it. ‘Here, we need to put this between your legs. It’ll stem the bleeding,’ she said, frightened for Penny and though trying to stay cal
m, she couldn’t put coherent thoughts into order.
There was a gasp then, and looking up Rhona saw Penny’s mother in the doorway, looking in horror at the scene before her. ‘What happened?’ she cried. ‘What’s wrong with Penny?’
Rhona could have cried with relief and at last her mind cleared. ‘Penny needs to go to hospital. I’m going to ring for an ambulance,’ she said hurriedly and ran out of the kitchen, down the short hall and out into the sunny street, trying to remember in which direction to turn for the phone box. For a moment Rhona couldn’t see it and panicked, but then noticed its bright red paintwork further down the road.
She sprinted towards it, and once inside with shaking hands she picked up the handset to dial the emergency services. It was only when she was told that an ambulance would be sent, that Rhona slumped. She leaned against the glass in the telephone booth, reliving what had just happened. Anger rose that Gary had buggered off without even knowing that Penny was carrying his baby and it was probably the anguish and distress that caused Penny to miscarry.
But slowly Rhona’s anger subsided as she realised that though it was awful, losing the baby was probably for the best.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Tommy sat on the narrow concrete ledge with his head in his hands. The small cell was stiflingly hot, the only light coming from a tiny barred window high up one wall. There was hardly any furniture and the place smelt of strong disinfectant with an undercurrent of something deeply unpleasant. In the distance he could hear muffled voices but there was nobody within calling distance. Not that it mattered because he had nothing to say.
He couldn’t believe the events of the past few hours. He’d been asleep in bed early on Saturday morning when the police had pounded on his door. He’d let them in without much concern, but now wished he’d played it differently; that he hadn’t been so offhand, but it most likely wouldn’t have altered things. He’d still have ended up in a cell.