Chapter Twenty-Two
Sunday morning was wet and windy, and Aileen declined a walk to church with Mary. Now, as she languished in bed, she wished she’d made the effort and gone, because all she did was to ponder on those poor people who had lost loved ones in the Aberfan disaster. Dermot would be in Wales now, and she hoped that when he’d had time to assess the situation he would be on the phone to her. She couldn’t relax until she knew how the little girl was. With that in mind, she threw back the covers and got up.
The teacher had gone away for the weekend, and while the house was quiet, Aileen decided to take a bath. Mary would have turned the immersion heater on before she left so the water would be hot. The bathroom was positioned on the first floor towards the back of the house, with a small frosted window that overlooked the back garden.
She turned on the tap and steam clouded the mirror. She sprinkled in a handful of Lily of the Valley bath salts, crumpled a scented cube into the water, and tested it with her toe before lowering herself into the hot, cloudy bathwater. With a happy sigh, she leaned her head back, letting her cares wash over her.
She stared up at the white plastic lampshade and the black and white tiles, wishing she could rewind time. How had her life become so complicated? If she hadn’t come to Birmingham, she’d never have met Roy Pickering. She slipped down in the water and closed her eyes.
The sound of the doorbell startled her. She pulled herself upright; bubbles settled across her shoulders and under her chin. She stood up and grabbed her towel, wrapping it tightly around her. Then she tiptoed along the landing to Mary’s room and took a look outside. The street was desolate and wet, but across the street, there was no mistaking a black car.
She held her breath as the bell rang for the third time. She gasped then covered her mouth. ‘Please go away,’ she murmured, desperately hoping that Mary hadn’t left the back door undone.
Frozen to the spot, she stood hiding from view and shivering with cold until she saw the car move away, and then she hurried back to her room and got dressed. What did he hope to gain by making a nuisance of himself? If he had something to say, why couldn’t it wait until she was back at the office? She couldn’t relax.
It was still raining when Mary arrived home. She lowered her brolly, shook it, and stood it up on the porch. ‘You won’t see a stray dog out on a morning like this.’
Aileen sighed. ‘I’m glad you’re back.’
‘What ails yea? You’re as twitchy as that old cat we had years ago.’
Mary placed her handbag on the kitchen table and switched on the kettle. Aileen slumped into a chair. ‘Roy Pickering’s been here again. His car was parked outside. He rang the bell three times. I was terrified he’d come round the back.’
Mary spun round. ‘Right!’ She folded her arms. ‘I’ve had enough of Mr No Good Roy Pickering. And I’ll tell yea sommat else and all. When the rain stops, you and me’s gooin’ down the police station.’
‘I’m sorry to have caused you trouble, Mary. I never expected he’d turn up on your doorstep.’ Aileen dashed away a tear. ‘Please don’t involve the police. Let me deal with it on Monday.’
‘I’m trying to run a business here, Aileen. I’ve just advertised the small bedroom, not to mention what will happen if Miss Brady gets wind of a prowler watching the house.’
‘I’m so sorry,' she said again. ‘Just give me until tomorrow to sort it before calling in the police. Please, Mary.’
‘Oh, all right then, but it’s against me better judgement.’ She sighed. ‘What if he comes back again tonight?’
‘Then I’ll go out and talk to him.’
‘You’ll do no such thing. You’ve no idea what you could be dealing with. No! Let me think?’ She scratched her head and then she turned back to the work surface and poured boiling water into the teapot. ‘Right, you’re coming wit’ me to Mavis’s. One more for dinner this evening won’t bother her. That way I know yea’ll be safe.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Aileen picked up a newspaper on the way to work and read it inside the shop. One hundred and forty-three people, mostly children, had been buried in the Wales landslide. The news increased her already fragile state as she made her way towards the mill, glancing over her shoulder. The area was busy with people on their way to work, and she arrived at the office without any sightings of Roy.
Alan was having the day off, and the desk was piled with orders. They came through on the office phone, keeping the women busy. Val only briefly mentioned the Aberfan disaster, and that suited Aileen as the mere mention of it upset her. However, as soon as they had a quiet moment, Val questioned her about Friday night.
‘Did you go out with Roy at the weekend?’
Aileen wanted to say, ‘Don’t be silly. As if!’ But what was the point in denying it?
‘It was a big mistake.’
‘Why? What happened? Don’t tell me he tried it on.’
‘Worse than that, he’s been sitting outside the house for most of the weekend. I don’t know what to do?’
‘Good Lord! Told you, didn’t I?’
Aileen related most of what had happened to Val, in between taking orders on the phone and typing. The other girl’s reaction was one of disgust. ‘That’s creepy, Aileen. You’ll have to report him.’
‘I’m trying to avoid that. Besides, it’s partly my fault for encouraging him.’ She sighed. ‘Val, have you got his work schedule for this week? I must talk to him before Mary goes to the police.’
‘I wouldn’t blame her if she did. I haven’t got the sheet yet. Go upstairs and see if it’s ready.’ Aileen sighed, and Val gave her a sympathetic smile.
As soon as Aileen stepped into the accounts office, Miss Grimshaw pounced. ‘Ah, just the person I want to see. Can you work this coming Saturday?’
She hesitated. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Grimshaw. I’m afraid I can’t. There’s something I have to do.’ She swallowed nervously.
The older woman frowned. ‘Is there something wrong, Aileen? Only, you look a little distracted.’
This was her opportunity to ask for some time off. ‘My father’s not coping, and I need next week off to visit him,’ she said in one breath.
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Aileen, but this is very short notice.’
‘Yes, I know, Miss Grimshaw. I’ve just found out that my recently widowed father is selling the shop, and I don’t think he has thought it through properly.’
‘Umm, it’s a bit inconvenient.’ The older woman paused and tapped her pencil against her lips. She did this a lot when she was considering something, and Aileen crossed her fingers behind her back.
‘You are coming back?’
‘Yes, yes, of course.’
‘Okay, I’ll have your wages made up accordingly. As you’re here, can you take Mr Pickering’s work schedule down with you?’
She had made a snap decision, and it had worked. Now she hoped she would be in time to stop her da doing something he might later regret. With Roy’s timesheet in her hand, she noticed his home telephone number alongside the works number at the top of the sheet, and she quickly scribbled it down before handing the paper across the desk.
‘How far is Coventry from here, Val?’
‘A good twenty miles or more, depends on what way you go. Why?’
‘Well, if he’s away, he won’t be bothering me, will he?’
‘Too right! He’ll be there all week. The company won’t pay his expenses for him to come home each evening then to go back next day, although he’s brought in a lot of business from the Coventry area. He sometimes takes the train as he doesn’t want to run up the mileage on his precious car.’ She laughed.
‘Well, that’s a relief.’ Aileen’s face brightened. ‘He’ll have forgotten about me when he gets back.’
Val gave her a doubtful look. ‘I’m taking an early lunch. Will you be okay?’
Aileen nodded. ‘Before you go, I’ve asked for next week off. You remember me telling you abo
ut my da? I’m worried about him. He’s acting out of character.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Aileen. I won’t half miss you. I’ll have to manage with someone from the agency until you get back.’ Sighing, she hurried out.
Knowing that Roy was some distance away would satisfy Mary, too. Next week, Aileen would be back in Ireland, and Roy Pickering would no longer concern her.
That night Dermot phoned with the news that both Aileen and Mary had been dreading. She could sense the shock in his voice and did all she could to console him. When she mentioned that she had booked a week off and would soon be home, his voice lifted.
* * *
On Thursday of the same week, Aileen walked along Cape Hill on her way to the travel agents. With the return ferry tickets for Saturday night sailing safe inside her bag, she shopped for bits she needed to take away with her and then went into Timothy Whites for sea legs, just in case. It was the beginning of October, and a black cloud hovered overhead. She tightened her scarf around her neck and was about to make her way back to the office when the heavens opened, and shoppers ran for cover.
Aileen sheltered in a doorway, her hair dripping, her shopping soggy, and her handbag dangling from her shoulder. Why hadn’t she taken a brolly? Mary had warned her it was going to rain. But that was her trouble, she never listened to good advice. Rain lashed the pavement, and she shivered inside her jacket.
On the opposite side of the street, a bus sloshed past and behind it, a black Ford pulled to a stop. It stayed long enough for her to glimpse the side view of the driver. Her heart lurched. Dear God! What was he trying to do to her?
A shiver ran through her body. Fearful he might spot her, she ran through the rain and arrived at the mill wet and miserable, her heart thumping. Once inside the yard, she went straight into the toilet and locked the door. She switched on the small electric heater, removed her wet jacket, and hung it up on the door. She stood directly underneath the heater to dry her hair and used the new Charmin toilet paper to dry her face and hands. When she felt a little warmer, she unlocked the door and went outside.
Alan walked across the cobbles, a cluster of dockets in his hand. ‘Got caught in the downpour, did you?’
‘Just my luck,’ she said bunching her hair into a ponytail.
He handed her the paperwork. ‘I’ve placed the urgent ones on top.’
‘Alan, have you seen Roy today?’
‘No. Why?’
‘I thought… I’m sure I saw him on the Cape just now.’
He shrugged. ‘He’s in Coventry unless he’s got a double,’ he laughed and walked back towards the sheds.
* * *
By the time Aileen finished work, her mind was made up to speak with Roy. Drastic as she knew it was, she had to make sure he stayed away from Mary’s place while she was away. If she had given him the wrong impression, she would apologise, and try to get him to understand that there could never be anything other than friendship between them. She owed it to Mary to try, even though Val had advised her against it. She didn’t want to go away with an uneasy conscience.
She slipped into the first telephone box she came across and dialled Roy’s number. It rang three times before being picked up.
‘Hello.’ The voice was that of a woman with an upper-class English accent.
Aileen swallowed. ‘Hmm. Sorry. Have I got the right number? Is this Roy Pickering’s?’
‘Who is this?’
‘It’s Aileen from the mill. I’d like to speak with Roy, please.’
It went quiet at the other end, and then she heard hushed voices before someone spoke again.
‘Don’t you ever ring this number again. do you hear?’
The stressed words took her aback, and she winced at the abrupt way the phone clicked off before she had time to speak.
She felt a moment of terror. There was no mistaking the menace in the man’s voice.
Her hands trembled as she vacated the phone box. Tears stung her eyes and unanswered questions fogged her mind as she hurried back to the lodging house.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Aileen could hear Mary rattling around in the kitchen. She was determined not to let her landlady see how upset she was, especially with her leaving for Dublin soon. Picking up a letter from the hall table, she called out that she was home and would be down shortly, and then ran upstairs to her room. She needed time on her own before she had to pretend that everything was normal. With the door closed behind her, she struggled to control the feelings of rage that made her tummy tighten.
Dermot’s letters were consistent, usually arriving on a Friday, and she looked forward to reading them. She took a few deep breaths, sat down on her bed, and opened the letter.
Darling Aileen,
I’m sorry I was so down on the phone when last we spoke. The sight of all those bereaved parents who had lost children was heart-wrenching. My aunt is inconsolable, as you can imagine. We did what we could. I’m coming home, as Dad can’t manage on his own much longer.
I’m sorry to be the bearer of more bad news, Aileen, but I feel I must tell you. Your father has sold the drapery shop and, as far as we know, the accommodation. He left a letter for you at the butcher’s. I'm delighted to hear you are coming over for a few days. You know you are welcome to stay with us. I’ll be home before you are. I can’t wait to see you, and I’ll be at the ferry port to pick you up.
Love and miss you,
Dermot x
She folded the letter and felt sad for Dermot’s aunt. Having experienced the loss of her ma, she could only imagine the unbearable pain of losing a child in that way. She realised that loss came in many guises; always painful, and some worse than others.
Aileen felt as if she had lost her da, too. He hadn’t written to her in the eight weeks she had been away. The shop was their home. He couldn’t have been thinking straight when he sold the business. She had never believed he would go through with it. How could he do this to her? Could she still stay with him? If not, she knew she could rely on her uncle and aunt. A tear ran unchecked down her face. Dermot was the only true friend she had, but would he still want her if he knew she’d been out with another man?
Lizzy was to blame for all this upheaval. And if it hadn’t been for her manipulating her da, Aileen would still be in Dublin searching for her lost brother. To stop herself becoming maudlin, she began to sort through clothes she would be taking with her tomorrow. Feeling calmer, she went down to talk to Mary and managed to convince her that she’d had no more problems with Roy.
* * *
On Monday morning, Roy Pickering dressed in the clothes that had been carefully laid out on his bed. His grey suit hung on the back of the bedroom door. He put on his freshly laundered pale-green shirt and matching tie, and clipped his gold cufflinks in place. He checked the crease along the sleeves, before slipping on his suit jacket—the one he had worn the previous week for his dinner date with Aileen. He ran his hairbrush over his hair and examined his nails, stopping to clip the middle fingernail on his left hand. He sighed then rearranged the items in his grooming kit so that they all faced the same way.
After admiring his image in the mirror, he hurried downstairs. His breakfast, consisting of one Weetabix and a black coffee, was set out on the table.
‘Are you all right, dear? You seem a bit edgy this past couple of days. Has someone upset you?’ The woman sitting opposite him threw him a cursory glance. Roy shook his head and sipped his coffee.
‘You know,’ she continued, ‘if you’re feeling unwell, I can make you an appointment with Mr Wainwright, dear, just to be on the safe side.’
He stood up. ‘No, no need.’ He smiled. ‘I'm perfectly fine.’ Then he leaned down and kissed her cheek before leaving the house.
He drove away from his secluded suburban home in Worley to the mill in Smethwick. The anger he had felt over Aileen ringing the house had subsided. And he wanted to apologise to her before leaving. He needed to gain her trust again and deter her from
ever calling his home again. No-one had ever rung him his house, not even Miss Grimshaw, and he must make sure it never happened again.
He parked in the yard alongside Mr Bill’s Rover. Ignoring Alan’s call to him, he hurried inside. His jaw dropped when he saw a strange woman sitting at Aileen’s desk; her head bent in concentration. Before he could ask any questions, Mr Bill’s door opened.
‘Ah, Roy. Good to see you. Pop in the office a minute. I’ve made two new contacts I’d like you to call in on while you’re in Kidderminster.’
By the time Roy came out, he felt anxious and wished he had bypassed the mill. The old man had praised his efforts on increased sales over the past month and made an appointment for him with a new client for ten o’clock. Roy had smiled his thanks, but inside he was annoyed that he had to do all the running around while old man Bill sat on his arse all day, picking up the phone and giving orders. Kidderminster was, at best, an hour’s drive away and if he were to get there in time, he’d have to shoot off without finding out where Aileen was.
The temporary typist glanced up as he walked through. He couldn’t be bothered to raise a smile towards her. ‘Where’s Val?’ he barked.
The woman frowned. ‘Upstairs, I think.’
Without waiting, he hurried outside and got into his car. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Through the mirror he saw Alan and, revving the engine, he drove off.
He fiddled with the knobs of his radio and tuned into some classical music. It usually calmed his nerves. He could always phone Val when he arrived; she was sure to know where Aileen was. He wasn’t going to give up on her that easily. He had been drawn to her from that first meeting when he had helped her with the franking machine. She was lonely, just like him. Having her around made him feel good. Had he spoiled things by rushing her? He’d make things right between them; yes, that’s what he would do.
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