by D. S. Butler
“Her ideas?” Babs’s blood was boiling, but she bit back a sharp retort. She needed Martin to let his guard down and believe she was prepared to play the game by his rules.
“Yes, Ruby’s got all sorts of ideas about working in the family business. At the moment, she is happy working at the club, but she’s got ambitions. She needs to realise, as a woman, she has no place in that world and neither do you.”
Babs wanted to scratch his eyes out. Instead, she nodded meekly. “All right.”
Martin looked surprised, and she realised she’d made the mistake of giving in too easily, Martin would never fall for that.
“We’ll see how things go,” Babs said. “I don’t think there is anything wrong with Ruby working at the club, as long as you don’t involve her in any of your deals.”
Martin looked as though she’d slapped him.
“I would never do that,” he said sharply.
Babs nodded. She had to tread a careful line. She had to lull Martin into a false sense of security, but she couldn’t let him have everything his own way because then he would know she was playing him for a fool.
The last thing she wanted to do was make him suspicious.
Chapter 37
Babs set her cocoa down on the nightstand and looked around her bedroom. It hadn’t been changed much. She knew Violet had been using it in her absence, but the narrow mahogany wardrobe was still the same, and her large bed hadn’t changed either.
Babs let out a sigh of relief.
It had been one hell of a day. All things considered, it had gone very well.
She ran a hand over the bedspread and smiled. She was going to enjoy sleeping in her own bed tonight. She couldn’t wait to get under the sheets and spread out on the comfortable, cushioned mattress.
She leant down to pick up her cocoa and took a quick sip.
Ruby had made it, and Babs had added a dash of whisky to hers when her daughter wasn’t looking. It was silly really. Ruby was a grown woman now, but Babs didn’t want Ruby to see her drinking.
The only thing that marred the evening was Derek leaving to catch his train back to Southampton, but at least, he’d made the trip to see her. That was the main thing. Babs had been terrified Derek had turned his back on her for good.
She was so proud of her children now they were fully grown. When she looked at Ruby’s face, it was like looking in the mirror at her own reflection, twenty-odd years ago, but Ruby was more beautiful than she’d ever been.
Nowadays, when Babs looked at her own reflection, she was shocked by what she saw. She’d developed crow’s feet and had fine lines around her mouth.
Her hair, which she used to dye every colour under the sun, had grown out and restored to its usual mousy brown. Depressingly, it was also speckled with grey for good measure.
She would have to do something about her hair at some point, but it wasn’t a priority.
She stretched and then walked over to draw the curtains, but as she did so, she saw a movement on the other side of the street. She froze and squinted, trying to see what or who was out there.
She smothered a gasp as she realised there was a dark figure standing on the other side of the road, looking right up at her bedroom.
She opened the curtain wider and moved closer to the window.
She might be mistaken…but it really looked like…Could it be? She stared down at the figure and tried to work out whether it was the same man she had seen outside the prison. He wore a grey scarf wound around his neck and lower face.
She shivered. Was her imagination playing tricks on her?
She reached for the latch to open the window so she could call out, but before she could, the man disappeared.
She leant heavily on the windowsill, wondering what to do.
Should she tell someone? Tony? He’d popped back in earlier but hadn’t stayed long.
Maybe she could telephone him?
She moved away from the window, and a thought struck her. Of course, it all made perfect sense. Martin had probably instructed one of his men to watch her.
No doubt, he’d be keeping a close eye on her over the next few days.
Babs sighed with relief and then chuckled as she picked up her cocoa, ready for another sip.
Martin had better up his game, it would take more than that to stop Babs.
* * *
Babs was up early the next morning. She’d expected to sleep like a log last night in her comfortable bed, but she’d found it hard to drift off and then had woken early.
She dug around in her wardrobe and pulled out a long raincoat. When she put it on, it hung off her. She’d lost weight in prison and tended towards the scrawny side now, whereas, in the past, Babs had always been proud of her curvaceous figure.
She didn’t bother to make herself any breakfast or even stop for a cup of tea.
Ruby was still asleep as Babs let herself out of the front door and set off towards Frieda Longbottom’s house.
It wasn’t a long walk, barely a couple of minutes, but by the time Babs got there, a light drizzle was starting to fall. She was glad Frieda was an early riser.
When the older woman opened the door to Babs, she was already dressed for the day.
Her face lit up with glee when she saw who it was.
“Oh, I can’t tell you what a welcome sight it is to see you,” Frieda said, grabbing Babs by the hand and pulling her inside the house.
“Come in and have a cup of tea.”
Frieda Longbottom had stuck by Babs for years. She was probably the person Babs trusted most in her life. She’d grown close to Gertie in prison, but the history she and Frieda shared had created an even stronger bond.
“Now, how are you enjoying your freedom?” Frieda asked handing Babs a cup of tea.
“It’s still a bit much to take in, to be honest,” Babs said. “It’s lovely, but it takes a little bit of getting used to.”
Frieda nodded. “I’m sure you’ll soon be feeling yourself again. Everything must feel very strange at the moment. Did you see the wallpaper Violet Morton chose for the living room? Well, I never,” Frieda said. “It certainly wouldn’t have been my choice. I did tell her you wouldn’t approve, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”
Babs could just imagine Violet’s reaction when Frieda tried to tell her how to decorate the house.
She sniggered.
“I knew Violet must have picked the paper! Oh, Frieda. It’s good to be out.”
Frieda smiled fondly at Babs and patted her hand.
“So what are your plans for today?”
“Funny you should ask. I actually wanted to ask you a favour.”
“What’s that?” Frieda asked, looking concerned.
“Oh, nothing much. I just wondered if you had a headscarf I could borrow.”
“A headscarf?” Frieda looked at Babs as though she’d just asked her to put a trifle on her head.
Frieda often wore headscarves while she was cleaning, but they weren’t really Babs’s style.
“I want to do something this morning, and I don’t want to be recognised. I thought a headscarf might help.”
Frieda nodded slowly. “Well, of course, you can borrow one of mine, Babs… But promise me, whatever you have planned won’t get you into trouble, will it?”
Babs hesitated.
Then she gritted her teeth and lied. “Oh, no. Nothing like that.”
Frieda nodded, but she didn’t look particularly convinced. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Babs shook her head quickly. “It’s probably better you don’t know. I won’t need to borrow it for long, just an hour or two.”
Frieda pushed herself up from the table and walked towards the stairs. “I’ll get one for you now.”
While Frieda was upstairs, Babs sipped her hot tea and thought about the morning ahead. She didn’t want to do it. But if she didn’t, it would put all her future plans in jeopardy.
* * *
Babs left Frieda and made her way to the
bus stop. She took the number forty-two to Whitechapel, and it dropped her right outside the Royal London Hospital.
She waited until she was inside the hospital before taking Frieda’s headscarf out of her pocket and wrapping it securely around her hair.
She then went into the ladies’ toilets and studied her reflection in the mirror.
She pulled out one of her old, bright red lipsticks and painted her lips. The lipstick was passed its best and was a little dry, but it would have to do. She didn’t have any rouge, so she used a dab of lipstick on each cheek and rubbed it in vigorously.
She looked at her reflection and shivered. She looked a fright. But she supposed that wasn’t important. All that mattered was that she didn’t look like herself.
Nerves were twisting in her stomach as she left the ladies’ toilets and walked along the corridor. Babs stopped at the reception desk and waited until the grey-haired lady behind the counter peered over her glasses.
“Can I help you?”
“Oh, yes. I think you can. I’m looking for Maud Montgomery. She is my sister.”
Babs put on an American accent. She was probably laying it on a bit thick, but she thought it might be a good diversion tactic.
The woman raised an eyebrow but then nodded. “I’ll look up her details for you.”
She walked across to the other side of the reception desk, stopped in front of the filing cabinet and pulled open a drawer.
“I’m from America, you know,” Babs said loudly for good measure.
The woman looked over her shoulder at Babs and said, “I see.”
After a few moments, the woman pulled out a file and nodded to herself before walking over to Babs. “You’ll find her on Lister Ward. Do you know where that is?”
Babs shook her head.
“Well, you want to walk down this corridor and take a right at the end. Then walk to the end of the next corridor, and it should be immediately in front of you.”
Babs nodded and thanked her, momentarily forgetting to use the accent. “Ta, love. I mean, thank you very much.”
She realised her ‘thank you very much’ had morphed into an Elvis impersonation and thought perhaps she should rein it in just a little bit.
She quickly turned away, followed the directions the woman had given her and found Lister Ward easily enough.
But unfortunately, she wasn’t going to be able to just walk in. There was a nurses’ station set up right outside the entrance to the ward.
Babs took a deep breath and then put on her American accent again. “Howdy, I’m here to see my sister, Maud Montgomery. I’m American, you know.”
The young nurse looked up and blinked in surprise.
“Maud Montgomery?”
Babs nodded. “That’s right.”
“Oh, I am glad you’ve come to see her. She hasn’t had any visitors yet.
Now, before I take you in, I do have to warn you she hasn’t yet regained consciousness. She had a significant head injury, and we’re not sure she will completely recover. If she does wake up, it’s highly likely she’ll need permanent care.”
“Oh, I see,” Babs said.
The young nurse’s brow wrinkled with a frown. “Did you say you are from Australia?”
“Oh no, I’m American,” Babs insisted.
The nurse shook her head slightly. “How strange. You don’t sound anything like the actresses at the pictures.”
Babs bristled with annoyance. What a cheek! “Well, it’s because I’m from the South.”
She decided to keep her mouth shut as much as possible from now on and followed the nurse into the ward in silence.
There were ten beds in the ward, but only four were occupied. The nurse led Babs to the bed right at the end, by the window.
Babs recognised Maud straightaway. She looked smaller, lying there in the starched white sheets, and instead of having her hair tied back in a bun, it was spread across the pillow, half of it hidden by the bandage around her skull.
“What are the chances of her waking up?” Babs asked.
The nurse looked sympathetically at Babs. “I’m afraid there is a chance she may not ever wake up.”
Babs nodded and then turned back to look at Mean Maud, trying to appear sad.
“I’ll leave you to it,” the nurse said kindly and quietly walked back to the nurses’ station.
When she was sure the nurse had left the ward, Babs looked around. The three other occupied beds were filled with patients who looked very ill indeed. They weren’t in any condition to witness or remember anything Babs did.
She looked back at Maud. Her face was almost as pale and white as the bedclothes. There were no cards on the nightstand beside her bed, and Babs felt a twinge of pity as she remembered that the nurse had said Maud hadn’t had any visitors. Then she hardened her heart. It wasn’t really surprising no one wanted to come and see her in the hospital. Maud was a right old bitch.
Babs took a deep breath and moved closer to the bed until she was hidden by the privacy screen. She pulled one of the pillows out from under Maud’s head.
She gripped it in both hands and leant forward.
It would be so easy. All she had to do was press the pillow against Maud’s face, and she wouldn’t have to go back to prison. That simple act would mean there would be no chance of Maud waking up and telling everybody that it had been Babs that had clobbered her around the head.
She took a step closer, her thigh pressing against the side of the bed. Within minutes, all her worries could be over…
Was it really murder if Maud might die anyway?
Babs knew it was a sin, but Mean Maud had it coming.
Babs swallowed hard and then thrust the pillow over Mean Maud’s head.
She held it over the woman’s face for five seconds. They were the longest five seconds of Babs’s life. She let out a sob as she lifted the pillow and pulled it back.
She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t murder the old cow in cold blood. She knew her freedom was at risk, and even more important, the amount of time she had to get her revenge on Martin was at risk, but she still couldn’t murder Mean Maud.
She stuffed the pillow back on the bed and then collapsed into the small visitor’s chair.
She’d messed up Maud’s hair; it was sticking up all over the place.
Babs leant forward and cradled her head in her hands. What was she going to do?
If she didn’t have the backbone to get rid of Mean Maud, that meant her freedom could be over at any time.
She sat up straight, took a deep breath and then got to her feet. She didn’t have time to sit here feeling sorry for herself. She needed to put her plans for Martin into action immediately.
Chapter 38
So far, Trevor’s second day in the workshop hadn’t gone much better than the first. Big Tim had gone to get things sorted out at the registry office for his wedding, and Brian and Georgie had both come down with a nasty bout of the flu and had stayed home in bed.
Trevor wished he was sick as well.
Right now, it was only him, Charlie Williams and Jimmy in the workshop.
They’d been rushed off their feet all morning because of a double booking.
Charlie had accused Trevor of being responsible, which was unfair. How was Trevor supposed to know they didn’t just accept jobs without a booking?
He thought Charlie would be pleased that he’d drummed up some extra business.
Charlie wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He’d just sent Jimmy to drop off a motor. Trevor thought he was making a lot of fuss over nothing. The job wasn’t that hard.
Charlie turned to Trevor. “Would you mind going to pick up our lunch order?”
Trevor bristled with annoyance. He was Dave Carter’s son, and Charlie was treating him like a tea boy.
He wouldn’t get anywhere unless he put his foot down at some point. He’d been prepared to accept the crappy jobs yesterday, but Charlie Williams had to know he couldn’t boss
Trevor about.
He turned to Charlie and said, “Yes, I would mind.”
Charlie blinked in surprise. He obviously hadn’t believed Trevor had any backbone.
He wiped his hands on a rag. “Look, Trevor. We’re busy today. Georgie and Brian are sick. Big Tim’s got his bloody wedding to sort out, and Jimmy’s gone to drop off a motor. Someone needs to pick up lunch.”
Trevor shrugged, unconcerned. “So why don’t you go?”
He could see he was getting under Charlie’s skin. Charlie gritted his teeth and flung the rag on the floor. “Fine. I’ll be ten minutes at the most. Now keep an eye out for Mr Perkins. He might come in to pick up his motor. Don’t let him go before I come back. I haven’t yet added the antifreeze to his coolant, and he has to settle up, all right?”
Trevor shrugged. “All right.”
Charlie huffed out an annoyed breath and then turned his back on Trevor, stalking out of the workshop.
Trevor grinned. He’d certainly put Charlie in his place.
He cracked his knuckles and looked at Mr Perkins’s motor. He’d seen Charlie at the antifreeze yesterday and decided to have a go himself. How hard could it be?
If he managed to do it then maybe Charlie would start taking him seriously and let his father know Trevor was ready for something a little more important than making the teas and picking up lunches.
Trevor stuck his head under the bonnet and peered down at the engine. He spotted the coolant cap and quickly unscrewed it.
He knew last time Charlie had drained off a bit of the fluid, but it didn’t look too full, so Trevor just picked up the antifreeze from the counter at the back of the workshop and poured it into the coolant. He was just about to tighten the cap when Mr Perkins walked in.
“Hello, are you still working on the car?” Mr Perkins asked, looking at his watch. “I’d hoped you’d be finished by now.”
Trevor slammed down the bonnet.
“It’s all done, Mr Perkins. All that’s left to do is settle up.”
“Ah, excellent,” Mr Perkins said and pulled out his wallet.
Trevor led him to the back of the workshop where they kept the books and a daily schedule of their jobs. Charlie had already written up Mr Perkins’s work along with all the costs.