Fallen Women
Page 31
‘He’s late,’ said Bill. ‘We’ll give him until five past.’
‘That isn’t much of a chance,’ Kate said.
Bill laughed. ‘Who said anything about wanting to give this guy a chance?’ At four minutes past, Bill caught hold of her arm and guided her back towards the main hall.
As they walked back towards the entrance, Kate caught sight of another familiar figure striding towards them down the platform. He looked as if he was in a hurry too.
‘Peter?’
Her brother-in-law looked up at the sound of his name, recognising her a split second later, his expression immediately changing from preoccupation to one of total surprise.
‘Kate?’
Kate waved her yellow rose at him. ‘How are you?’ she called across a dense thread of travellers.
‘I’m fine,’ he said after a second or two’s consideration. ‘And how about you?’
Kate hurried towards him. ‘I’m really well, it’s nice to see you. This is Bill, my neighbour.’
Peter nodded and extended a hand. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ and then to Kate, ‘fancy seeing you here. I’m going home early today to surprise Liz, thought I might take her and the girls out later. Bit of a treat. You know.’
Kate smiled and looked out into the bright blue sky above the shops and buses. ‘You’ve certainly got a lovely day for it.’
He smiled. ‘And you?’
Kate giggled and then blushed furiously quite unable to find the words to explain.
‘Blind date,’ said Bill mischievously.
‘Oh,’ said Peter. ‘Very nice. Got to go, train, you know,’ and then he was gone. Kate blushed furiously and slapped Bill with the bouquet.
‘Eh ouch, what was that for?’
‘God alone knows what he’ll tell Liz,’ hissed Kate.
Bill grinned. ‘That you’ve finally come to your senses and have fallen head over heels in love with your sexy, solvent, almost sane neighbour.’
Kate looked Bill up and down, struggling to find a punchline to top him, and then smiled; maybe it wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.
It didn’t strike her as odd until much, much later that Peter was catching a train from Kings Cross rather than Liverpool Street where the trains run directly to Norwich, but then again Kate hadn’t see him dropping the single yellow rose he’d been carrying, or kick it away as he walked towards her either.
Epilogue
‘Kate?’
She was coming out of the post office on Muswell Hill Broadway and turned without thinking; this was the call, the voice she had been dreading for weeks.
As the bus pulled away Chrissie was standing on the other side of the road dressed in the uniform she wore for work; it was lunchtime. Rooted to the spot, Kate waited for Chrissie to catch her up.
‘You’re home early,’ Kate said, instinctively hiding behind conversations that they used to have.
‘Half day. I’ve got some stuff to sort out with the house.’
Kate nodded, and then made as if to turn and head for home, hoping that Chrissie would have more sense than to fall into step beside her.
‘Do you want a coffee?’ Chrissie said.
Kate glanced down without conviction at her watch, wondering what her best excuse might be. Work, the boys, almost anything rather than this. ‘I’m not sure –’ she began.
‘I know that,’ said Chrissie, ‘me neither, but we have to talk some time.’
Kate looked up, ‘Do we, Chrissie, what law’s that then?’
Chrissie moved uneasily under her gaze. ‘Please, Kate, just ten minutes – we could nip into the café,’ Chrissie said, reddening furiously. ‘This is hard enough.’
Hard enough? Hard enough for who? Kate thought as she felt herself wavering, felt the heat gathering in her veins, her stomach packed full of something that fluttered furiously.
‘Please,’ Chrissie repeated before Kate could think of anything to say. Kate looked her up and down. Chrissie looked thin and pale and had dark circles under her eyes as if she had been unwell. Surely the victor was supposed to look better than this?
‘All right’, Kate said after a few seconds. ‘But I can’t stay long.’
After all, what else had she got to lose?
‘So how have you been?’ said Chrissie, once they had settled in at one of the tables.
‘Actually,’ said Kate, slipping her bag alongside her. ‘I’m fine. Really well.’
Chrissie nodded.
‘And you?’
At once Chrissie’s composure began to crumble. She bit her bottom lip, eyes instantly up filling with tears. ‘I miss you,’ she said. Kate felt her heart lurch. How was it possible to feel compassion after what Chrissie had done?
‘I’m so sorry,’ Chrissie began, hunting round for a tissue, although Kate wasn’t sure whether she was apologising for being so emotional or for stealing Joe. Whichever it was, the words seemed completely inadequate.
The waitress brought over two cappuccinos. Chrissie blew her nose.
‘So, are you happy?’ said Kate, taking a sip of chocolate-topped froth.
‘What do you think?’ Chrissie said, her voice quavering as she poured brown sugar in through the foam. ‘I never wanted it to be like this; you have to believe me.’ And oddly enough Kate did.
Across the table Chrissie’s gaze dropped as if she needed every shred of concentration to ensure that not a grain of sugar was spilt. Kate stared at the top of Chrissie’s head, she noticed how her hands trembled as she lifted the spoon. What should she say? What did Chrissie expect? Sympathy? Comfort? Absolution? Or Kate’s permission to carry on? Did she want Kate to say that it didn’t matter, that it was all right, that she really didn’t mind?
There was still part of Kate that wanted answers, she just wasn’t sure that Chrissie had them any more.
‘Actually, I don’t think this is a very good idea,’ she said and got to her feet.
Chrissie caught hold of her wrist. ‘Please don’t go. I didn’t want this to happen, Kate. I’m really sorry.’
Kate nodded. ‘I’m sure you are,’ she said without a hint of malice, and pulling some money from her purse dropped it onto the table alongside her cup.
Outside in the street the sun was bright and warm. Kate sighed, let the tension slip from her shoulders, and headed home.
About the Author
Sue Welfare is the author of A Few Little Lies, Just Desserts, Off the Record, Moving On Up, Guilty Creatures and many erotic novels. Born on the edge of the Fens, she is perfectly placed to write about the vagaries of life in East Anglia. She was the runner-up in the Mail on Sunday novel competition in 1995, and winner of the Wyrd Short Story prize in the same year. She is also a scriptwriter and her comedy ‘Write Back Home’ was part of the 1999 Channel 4 Sitcom Festival. Fallen Women is her sixth mainstream novel.
By the Same Author
A FEW LITTLE LIES
JUST DESSERTS
OFF THE RECORD
MOVING ON UP
GUILTY CREATURES
Copyright
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