Without preamble, the lady at the desk showed them into Mr King’s office.
‘Good morning, I wasn’t sure we would make the meeting today what with the severe thunderstorms that are travelling across the country. Apparently, they’ve done quite a lot of damage uprooting trees in some areas.’ Mr King paused. ‘Anyway, it’s good to see you both so please take a seat.’
The door thudded shut behind them.
Joyce sat down on the nearest chair, opposite Mr King. She gripped her hands tight on her lap.
Ted raised his eyebrows, looking around at the dark oak walls lined with leather-bound books. ‘Thank you, although it’s very formal, isn’t it?’ He nodded to the pile of papers sitting on the end of the large desk. ‘I take it business is thriving, although I don’t know how you work in this place. It’s quite dark, even a little austere, wouldn’t you say?’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘You need to open a window and let some fresh air in here.’
Mr King said nothing. He sat down at his desk and waited for Ted to comply with his wishes.
Ted sighed and sat down next to Joyce, in front of the desk.
Not for the first time that morning Joyce wondered why she was having to come back to this office. She assumed her father was the next of kin. She truly hoped there were no more surprises, or shocks, in store for her.
‘Now, I just wanted to talk to you about Mrs Taylor’s situation.’
Ted smirked at Jeremiah. ‘Situation, is there a situation?’
Jeremiah closed his eyes for a second. ‘I’d appreciate it if you could just for once stop and listen. Let me say what I have to say. Then you can leave, and hopefully, I won’t have to see you again.’
Joyce looked across at her father. ‘Stop it, Pa, Mr King was obviously close to Grandma so this is difficult for him too.’
Mr King nodded at Joyce. ‘Thank you, Miss Taylor, please do not worry; your father and I go back a long way.’ He paused. ‘It’s always been his hobby to try and bait me into a reaction.’
Ted chuckled. ‘That’s true, Jeremiah, but I’m going to try to stop what is after all just a life-long habit with no substance.’
Jeremiah arched an eyebrow and nodded. He looked down at the pile of papers that were sitting in front of him. He took a breath. ‘As her next of kin, Mr Taylor, I need to inform you that there will be no need for you to worry about funeral arrangements because Mrs Taylor had already made and paid for them.’
Ted raised his eyebrows. ‘Is that because she didn’t trust me to do it correctly?’
Jeremiah stared at Ted for a moment. ‘No, I think she was trying to be helpful to you. You may find this hard to believe but your mother was never against you, Ted. She just wanted you to take control of your life again. Believe it or not she worried about you all the time, and your brother, Luke.’
Ted glared at Jeremiah. ‘He’s not my brother. We had different mothers and I don’t even know where he is these days. I’m afraid he disappeared when our father died, and I haven’t seen him since then.’
Jeremiah nodded. ‘Your mother always wanted to do the right thing by him but there’s been a distinct lack of response from his last known address. It’s been many years since I heard he was in Norfolk and, despite my many letters, there hasn’t been any news of him.’
Joyce gripped her hands in her lap, not knowing whether she should say something or not. ‘So, I do have an uncle then?’
Ted stared at his daughter. His lips curled. ‘Yes, but he turned his back on us for his own ends and probably spun some story about his childhood to some unsuspecting soul.’
Joyce stared at her father not knowing what else to say because nothing was going to change the situation. She turned back to the solicitor and forced a smile. ‘Is that all you wanted us for, Mr King?’
Mr King looked at her kindly. ‘I also wanted to say to you, Miss Taylor, that you have done very well with Philip. I know it was quite a challenge for you, particularly with the café as well.’
Joyce nodded. ‘It was certainly a shock to look after a five-year-old, and then to find out he was my brother was quite unbelievable. However, I’m grateful to have him in my life and I thank you for that.’
Jeremiah smiled. ‘It’s your grandmother you should be thanking. To be honest I didn’t think you’d be able to cope.’
Ted sneered at him. ‘Obviously you know nothing about my daughter; she’s quite resilient.’
Jeremiah frowned as he straightened some papers. ‘I think your daughter has had to be resilient. She has had a lot to put up with.’
Joyce stood up. ‘Well, if that is everything I’ll be going.’
Ted shook his head. ‘No, while I’m here I’d like to talk about my mother’s estate.’
Jeremiah’s eyes narrowed. ‘I thought you might.’
Ted turned to his daughter. ‘Perhaps you could just sit outside for a moment.’
Joyce nodded and left the room.
Jeremiah studied Ted for a moment. ‘Your mother left you several thousand pounds and the house. Personally, I think she should have left it to Joyce and Philip. However, I genuinely hope she proves me wrong again, or maybe I should say you prove me wrong. That would give me great happiness.’
Ted raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, if that’s the case I have some business to attend to, which I would like to talk to you about.’
Jeremiah shook his head and fiddled with some papers on his desk. ‘I can’t imagine there is any sort of business that you have to attend to that could possibly involve a solicitor, at least not one of my standing.’
Ted raised his eyebrows. ‘You could hear me out before you pass judgement.’
*
Ted stood outside Simon’s terrace home wondering how he would be greeted. He didn’t know him and yet he had given Ted the money to pay off his debts. He patted his jacket pocket. The money to pay Simon back was still there; nothing was going to come between Joyce and Simon – not if he had anything to do with it. His palms were damp and beads of perspiration ran down the sides of his eyes. A pulse throbbed in his temple. He pulled out a handkerchief and rubbed it over his face. The July heat was draining him of energy, or was it his nerves playing up? He had to look confident and sure of himself. This was too important for him to mess things up.
Ted took a deep breath; the money was his excuse to see Simon. Ted had never had such a personal conversation before but he had to be brave enough to say what he thought about their relationship, and remember he was doing it for Joyce.
The front door suddenly opened, catching Ted by surprise. Simon’s sister stared at him. ‘Do you want something?’
Ted pulled himself upright and pushed back his shoulders. He thrust out his chin. He now only had to find the courage that always evaded him in his own life. ‘Good morning.’ Ted removed his hat. ‘I’m sorry to come unannounced, but I would like to see Simon, please.’
Barbara studied him for a moment. ‘I understand you saved my brother’s life, and I would like to thank you. I thought when Simon went off to war we may not see him again but when he came home I never envisaged he would almost die in a fire at the café, so thank you. Although, that doesn’t seem enough.’
Ted fidgeted from one foot to the other. ‘Thank you for saying that. It’s very kind of you, but I didn’t do anything that someone else wouldn’t have done. Is it possible to see Simon please?’
Barbara stood aside, pulling the door wide so Ted could walk in. ‘He’s painting.’ There was a thud as the front door shut behind him. ‘Sorry, you probably don’t know, but he likes to paint to relax. He hasn’t been doing any since he got back, but Mother practically locked him in the room this morning.’ Barbara gave a small smile. ‘Mainly because he wouldn’t get out of bed to do anything.’
Ted breathed in the familiar smell of beeswax and took heart from her words. Does that mean Simon was suffering the same way Joyce was? ‘I’ve no desire to disturb him if he’s busy but it’s important that I see him. For both him and Joyce
.’
Barbara sighed. ‘Good luck with that. I have been trying to talk to him about Joyce but he won’t entertain anything I say. He thinks that’s over with but you can see it’s eating him alive.’
Ted nodded. ‘If it’s any consolation Joyce thinks the same, which is why I’m here. I’m also here to pay Simon back the money that he paid Frank.’
Barbara nodded. ‘I’ll take you to him and then I’ll make you a cup of tea.’ She paused. ‘Maybe I should go and see Joyce, especially if she isn’t listening to anybody either, not that she should listen to me.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m ashamed to say I wasn’t very nice to her when I first went to the café. He’s my brother and I thought she didn’t return his love, but I was wrong and they should be together.’
Ted nodded. He was pleased to have an ally. ‘It’s all worth a shot and thank you, I’ll appreciate the tea. I know we didn’t meet in the best of circumstances and that’s something I’ll always regret.’
‘A lot has happened since then so it’s no good us worrying about all of that. My concern is Simon; I’m not even bothered about the café anymore. I thought it was important to keep my father’s dream alive but my mother was right. We’ve all been held in a place instead of moving on, particularly Simon, and my goodness it’s such hard work. I can’t imagine Joyce would have stayed there if she didn’t love him.’ Barbara pushed open the door into a small, well-lit room. The smell of paint filled the room. Paintings, large and small, were propped up around the room. Simon was staring at a practically blank canvas that was on his easel.
‘I haven’t started yet, just leave me alone.’
Barbara looked up at Ted. Her lips tightened as she shrugged. ‘Joyce’s father has come to see you.’
Simon half turned on his chair. His eyes widened. ‘Is Joyce all right?’
Ted nodded. ‘She’s probably about the same as you are.’
Simon turned and gazed back at this canvas.
‘I didn’t know you had a talent for painting; Joyce never mentioned it.’ Ted chuckled. ‘Mind you we’ve been too busy arguing to discuss the finer things in life.’
Simon didn’t look at him; he kept his eyes fixed ahead. ‘I’m not surprised – you certainly made an entrance. You have to remember she’s been mourning you for years and then you suddenly pop up without any explanation but wanting money.’
Ted nodded. He pulled up a wooden chair and sat down closer to Simon. ‘I deserve that; in fact I deserve everything that she throws at me. I’ve been a terrible father but I’m now here trying to make up for it.’ He paused, unsure whether to continue or not. ‘Joyce doesn’t know I’m here. She’d probably kill me if she did.’
They both chuckled.
‘Of that there is no doubt.’ Simon turned to look at Ted again. ‘So what brings you here? What makes you risk the wrath of your daughter? And trust me I have been on the end of it and it’s not a nice experience.’
‘And yet you still love her despite her temper.’
Simon looked back at his canvas. ‘Your daughter is a kind and gentle soul who will do anything for anybody. She does have a temper but it doesn’t come to the forefront very often.’ Simon looked around for a means to escape this conversation.
Ted watched him knowing only too well what was going on in his head. ‘I want you to listen to me, Simon. I don’t deserve you to but I’m here because I’m concerned about Joyce. She’s talking about not cooking anymore and yet that was her love, her dream. It was her mother’s dream for her.’ Ted looked down at the different globules of paint on the floor before taking a deep breath. ‘She’s a broken woman. I believe it’s the thought of not seeing you anymore that’s breaking her heart.’ Ted paused. ‘I think you love her as much as she loves you and I’m not going to sit back and let you both throw it all away just because you’re too stubborn to talk to each other. Trust me as someone who has been there: it’s not the right thing to do, not if you really love her.’
Simon shook his head. ‘I have nothing to offer her; I don’t even have a business anymore. Joyce turned down my hand in marriage when I had everything so I picked up the message loud and clear.’
Ted stood up and walked around the room. ‘She may well have done, but at the time she had a lot going on, and I know that’s something she has always regretted. It’s breaking her heart not seeing you every day, just like it’s breaking yours.’
Simon lifted his head. ‘I thought Frank was stepping into my shoes.’
Ted threw his head back and laughed. ‘Slips used Joyce to get at me – nothing more, nothing less. Joyce didn’t care for him. He just kept turning up but I think that’s because he was following her or following me. How do you think I found out where you lived?’
Simon’s face reddened as rage bubbled inside him. ‘What, you mean he knew where I lived? So my mother and sister were put at risk as well as Joyce?’
Ted frowned before nodding. ‘I’ve made a right old mess of things and I can’t apologise enough. I never thought for one moment it would come to that. It was always my problem but it’s not going to be repeated and to prove that to you I’ve bought the money that you paid to get me out of debt.’ Ted put his hand inside his pocket and pulled out a wad of notes and passed them to Simon. ‘That’s how I know you love Joyce as much as she loves you. You didn’t hesitate to pay off my debt even though you didn’t know me. How much more proof does anyone need?’
*
Joyce stood outside the café with Rose and Annie. She was steeling herself to go inside and see how bad it was. Was there anything that could be taken away? After all, Simon might want to start again with his mother and sister. A lump formed in her throat.
Rose did the buttons up on her jacket. ‘I think that thunderstorm that lit up the sky last night has definitely left it cooler today.’ Her gaze moved from the café to Joyce.
‘It’s the first time I’ve seen it.’ Annie stared at the café, studying where the flames had scorched the wood. The broken window had been boarded up.
‘It’s the first time for both of us.’ Rose shook her head. ‘Do you think it’s safe to go in?’
Joyce shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but I got the impression it wasn’t a massive fire in the front of the café, although it did spread there. I think it was mainly in the kitchen, which is where Simon was.’ She hesitated for a moment; the cold steel of the café key was stuck to her hand in her jacket pocket. ‘I am going in, if I can open the door; but I don’t want you both to feel that you have to follow me. I understand you have to go to work.’
The girls glanced at each other.
‘I don’t think you understand, Joyce. Where possible, wherever you go we go.’ Rose stepped forward so she was in line with Joyce.
Annie nodded. ‘We need to get out of the café what we can.’
They all move forward as one.
Joyce’s heart was racing; fear gripped her as she wondered what they would find. She felt sure Simon wouldn’t have been back, and assumed he would be resting. Once this was done she had plans to take everything to his house and have a talk with him. Her father was right; she just couldn’t throw it all away. She pulled the key out of her pocket and put it in the lock. The key wouldn’t turn to unlock it but she rattled the handle and the door opened. The bell above it chimed as always.
The girls gasped.
Joyce looked at them. ‘Do you think anyone is in there?’
The girls shrugged.
Rose looked towards Joyce. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’
Joyce nodded. ‘I bet it’s Mr Harris, the landlord. I’m sure he had something to do with the fire.’
Joyce stepped into the café and looked around, running her fingers over the counter. She left a trail where her fingers had been; it was thick with dust from the fire. She wrinkled her nose as the smell of the fire damage wafted around her.
Rose looked at the tablecloths that were as they would’ve been left when the café was last open. ‘I think w
e could wash these because it doesn’t look like there are any marks on them. They might take several washes but we could reuse them. Maybe we could embroider something on them, like your initials.’
Joyce frowned. ‘They aren’t mine; they’re Simon’s.’
Annie started wandering from table to table. ‘I think most of this stuff could be used elsewhere, especially if we can get the smell of the fire out of it all.’ She looked around her. ‘It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.’
Joyce swallowed hard, trying to move the lump that was forming in her throat. ‘If you don’t mind I’d like to just have a bit of time on my own.’
Rose stared at her. ‘Are you all right?’
Joyce nodded. ‘I just want a bit of time. I’ll probably never come here again after today.’
The girls nodded. Each walked over and gave Joyce a hug.
Annie stepped back from Joyce. ‘Are you sure?’
Joyce’s lips tightened as she nodded.
‘I don’t mind waiting outside for you,’ Rose whispered. ‘I don’t want to leave you.’
Joyce forced herself to smile. ‘I’ll be fine, just go and I’ll see you later.’ She waved as she watched them leave before sitting down at one of the tables. A tear rolled down her cheek as she looked around her. Everything was gone. She had gained a father and a brother but lost the man she loved along with her dream. ‘Why does it have to be one or the other? Why couldn’t I have it all?’ Her sobs echoed in the damp smoky room she had loved so much.
‘It doesn’t.’
Joyce jerked round at the sound of Barbara’s voice, quickly rubbing her hands across her blotchy face. ‘I … I didn’t know you were here.’
Barbara stepped nearer. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you. I was looking at the damage in the kitchen.’ She picked up a burnt piece of paper and handed it over to Joyce. ‘I’m sorry, it got ruined.’
Joyce stared down at her certificate for baking cakes. ‘It doesn’t matter now. None of it does.’
Barbara pulled out a chair and sat next to Joyce at the table. She rested her hand on hers. ‘It does matter. You are a fabulous cook and you need to carry on. This place was my father’s dream, but you made it popular with your cakes and pies. We didn’t have anything to do with it. Simon tried but none of us were up to it. You were the star here.’
Big Dreams for the West End Girls Page 31
