by H A Dawson
‘Something positive has come out of it, though. All the money she’s raised is going to help others fight this rotten disease.’
‘I guess. Although I’m sure she’d sooner have Holly back in her life.’ I paused, thoughtful. ‘From what Alice has said, they were like sisters. It’s been tough on her. She held her in high esteem.’
Talking in such a manner caused my own sorrow to mount. Whilst I knew bits about Alice and Holly’s friendship, Alice wasn’t the type of person who liked to pour out her emotions, and had, often to my regret, kept her troubles to herself. It was one of our many differences. If it had been me, I would have been sharing my pain on a regular basis.
The first time I had realised her reticence was in the early days in our relationship when she made a brief comment about her separation from her ex-partner, Michael. Initially, her refusal to talk about the bitterness she felt, engendered both my surprise and hurt, making me believe she considered me unworthy of her trust. However, I soon realised her behaviour wasn’t a reflection on me, but it was more about her. Her silence, and the fact she didn’t talk harshly about people was a trait to be praised. It displayed her worth as a trusted friend, and showed her strength of character and selfless attitude.
Marion brought me back from my musing. ‘We all need motives in life, even if they don’t always happen by choice.’
‘I agree. As you said, I think what she does must be satisfying. Otherwise, she wouldn’t do it.’
We chatted a little more, with Marion commenting further on Alice’s dedication and altruistic behaviour. It had never really occurred to me how much time my friend devoted to her efforts, but when we started to add it up, we concurred that it must take up just about all of her spare time. We reasoned she was able to do what she did because she was single; if she had children, her time would be otherwise taken.
Once Marion had departed, I sipped my coffee and mulled over the conversation. Alice was a kind-hearted and generous woman, and I should never have had my doubts relating to her betrayal. If she had said anything to Lesley about my past drug usage, it would have been said in error; no malice would have been intended.
Feeling more certain of myself, I waited for Lesley in a much more relaxed state. Eventually, after another ten minutes had past, she rushed through the entrance looking hot and flustered, mouthed her apology, and purchased a coffee and a sandwich. I did the same. It didn’t feel appropriate watching her eat whilst I had nothing.
‘Thanks for meeting me,’ I said.
‘No problem, although I’m afraid it would be unprofessional of me to talk about the situation surrounding your suspension. I hope that’s not the reason you wanted to see me.’
‘No,’ I mumbled, and averted my gaze. Moments earlier, I had felt more positive; now I felt morose and betrayed again.
‘I just wanted to check you were okay. After you rushed off yesterday …’ she paused, studying my expression. ‘I was concerned.’
‘I’m fine. I admit it was a shock. I struggled to deal with what Alice had told you about me taking drugs. It was said in confidence.’
Lesley’s face stiffened; evidently, I was in a no-go zone.
‘She was the only person who knew,’ I continued, ignoring her unease. ‘It was never a big deal. I took them occasionally at parties. In fact, I regretted it big time. I got involved with some people I should never have been involved with. They weren’t my type at all. It was a huge mistake.’
‘Have you spoken to Alice since yesterday?’
‘No,’ I folded my arms trying to still my anxiety. ‘I was on my way over when I called you. To be honest, I don’t know why I did.’
She didn’t reply, causing my awkwardness to increase. My friendship with Alice was not Lesley’s concern. We may both be part of her staff, but we never worked together, so regardless of what happened there would be no friction in the workplace.
‘I shouldn’t have bothered you,’ I said, hiding my head behind my coffee mug.
Her face stilled. After a couple of difficult moments spent drinking our coffees and busying ourselves with our lunchtime bites our eyes locked. I was desperate to change the subject, but all I could think of was Alice, and started to ramble, explaining how I had just seen someone who had helped make one of her charity events possible. It proved to be a good move, as immediately the atmosphere changed and the conversation flowed.
Lesley swallowed the last bite of her sandwich. ‘I’ve heard quite a lot about her charity fundraising activities of late. Someone was talking about the concert she put on at the weekend. Apparently it was a huge hit.’
‘It was.’ My pride swelled in my chest. Talking about Alice’s achievements buoyed me up; it was uplifting to be involved with someone who did so much for others. She was a credit to us all.
‘How much money did she raise?’ she asked.
‘She told me yesterday that she hadn’t added it up, but hinted it would be in the region of two thousand.’
Lesley’s surprise was evident. ‘I would have thought far more than that. Didn’t about three hundred people attend? At twenty pounds a ticket … well, do the math! It adds up to six thousand pounds!’
She was right; I hadn’t considered it before, but the figures didn’t add up, my heart felt heavy. Even though I dreaded to think where the money had gone, I couldn’t blank out the thoughts of her stealing the profits. I could not accept something so terrible, I came to her defence. ‘She had costs. The venue wasn’t free, and there would have been insurances to pay for. And she had to hire a mobile bar.’
‘I’m not accusing her of anything. Don’t think that. I’m just thinking aloud.’
My eyes narrowed. She did sound genuine. However, the drugs incident had caused me to doubt my own mind and made me feel uncertain of everything I witnessed and heard. Two days ago, I would never have thought Alice would have been involved in a situation causing my suspension, and so I had to accept I didn’t know her as well as I believed. And that went for others too; my instincts couldn’t be trusted.
‘Alice’s fundraising efforts are unsurpassed,’ Lesley said. ‘The meningitis charity is lucky to have her.’
‘Yes they are. Just before you arrived, I was saying the same to Marion. Alice spends every spare minute raising funds. She doesn’t need to. It’s by choice. She should be praised.’
Lesley nodded, her expression unreadable.
‘When she’s not arranging the events, she’s shaking collecting tins in pubs. She has far more energy and drive than most people would have. She never lets up.’
‘I agree. It must help her to deal with her own problems.’
I gawped, my eyes questioning. I wasn’t aware she had problems. She was always bright and cheerful around me. Surely, if it were true, I would have known.
‘I’ve said too much,’ Lesley said, wiping her mouth with a serviette.
‘What problems?’
‘I think it’s to do money, but it’s just something she’s hinted at and I might be mistaken.’ She stood up to leave. ‘I’m sorry Jessica, but I am going to have to get back. People to see, things to do!’
I followed in her trail, desperate to know what was going on. But her reluctance to divulge what she knew was obvious, and it seemed, as we left the café building, that I would have to ask Alice myself. It seemed an unreal situation to be in; I was her closest friend, and I should have been the person she confided in. It was confusing and upsetting.
I never judged Alice harshly and I was always a good listener. I also considered myself caring and compassionate, and easy to talk to. I was by no means perfect, but empathising with others was one of my strengths, or so I thought.
Lesley stopped and turned. ‘I think there’s more to Alice than we realise. She’s a complicated character.’
She was scrutinising my expression. It was though she was searching for signs of distress, I struggled to keep my facial expression impassive, just to maintain my dignity. ‘She certainly has a side
to her that she keeps to herself,’ I said.
‘Be careful.’ She started away. ‘And try to stay upbeat. I’ll be in touch.’
For a couple of seconds, I watched her leave. Then I turned around, and headed away. I had one destination in mind. I was going to visit Alice.
Chapter 3
Alice lived in a two-bedroom terraced house half a mile from the sports centre. As I was walking nearby, I thought back to the only time I had visited, which was several months ago when I was dropping off some work training schedules. Despite our friendship, we had never visited each other’s homes. We saw each other three or four times a week at work, depending on our shifts, occasionally in other locations, it was enough for us both.
I was feeling a bit edgy, and deluded due to my belief that our relationship was solid as it was based upon honesty. Alice it seemed had only shared certain aspects of her life with me. Perhaps I was expecting too much to know everything, and told myself she had every right to keep some things private. Even so, the hurt I felt was real. I couldn’t understand why I hadn’t been informed of her personal problems when others had. Wasn’t that what friends were for?
Striding closer to her house, I tried to convince myself I was making too much of it, but my inner self wouldn’t listen, and when I reflected on Lesley’s reaction to my ignorance, it compounded my thoughts and caused an uncomfortable stirring in my body. She had told me to be careful. She wouldn’t have said that without good reason and it caused me to wonder if I should have questioned her further. However, as soon as the thought entered my head, I reconsidered. Lesley was not going to tell me anything about Alice; as it was, she felt she had said too much.
While my thoughts drifted through the possible conversations I was intending to share with Alice, my eyes wandered along the length of the street, searching for the house I believed to be hers. I remembered it was an end dwelling with an alleyway at the side. Yet, it wasn’t quite so simple to locate as it appeared; I had already passed three alleyways, and I could see a further two up ahead. She could live next to anyone of them. I wracked my brain for clues.
As far as I remembered she lived at number nineteen. I passed number twenty-nine, and counted down to Alice’s house. The one I held in my view did seem the right one, although until I got closer I couldn’t be certain. I hoped that when I arrived at the door I would experience a rush of familiarity, and continued striding to her home.
A transit van pulled up along the roadside, stopping a few doors ahead. A man with broad shoulders and surplus weight around his stomach, and carrying a folded sheet of paper in his hand, or possibly an envelope, exited and knocked on a house door. Given the sign on the van, I could not mistake him for anything other than a builder.
The door to the house opened. It was Alice. Since I was walking close to the row of houses, she wasn’t aware of my presence. However, I could hear their exchange, putting me at an advantage. The builder presented her with an invoice for the work he had carried out, and in return, she handed him a bulging envelope I concluded it was a cash.
I slowed my steps, my thoughts spinning. Hadn’t Lesley said she had money worries? How could that be? And to pay with cash seemed decidedly strange.
Flashing images of Lesley’s comment relating to missing charity funds pounding my thoughts. I refused to believe there was a connection. Alice wasn’t that type of person. She was a genuinely good woman. She would never be involved in fraudulent misdemeanours.
With no option but to approach her, I sidled up to the door. Alice’s surprise was evident and acceptable, yet her reaction combined with a mixture of guilt and anxiety, and it appeared as though I had caught her doing something she shouldn’t be doing. Regardless of what I had heard and seen, I didn’t want to believe such negative thoughts to be true, and searched for another explanation. None would immediately spring to mind.
‘Having work done?’ I said in as cheery voice as possible, as I watched the builder depart.
Her reply was taut. ‘It was essential. It wasn’t much … not really.’
I peered over her shoulder, looking inside, into the hallway and up the staircase. Given I was unfamiliar with her house, I couldn’t say if it had been recently decorated. I sensed not.
‘Just a bit of plastering, and this and that. You know how it is. Come through.’
She guided me along the hallway, to the kitchen at the end. Quickly and before I had a chance to look inside the living room, she shut the door. Something bothered her. She wasn’t as bright and as cheerful as I was used to, and stood in a nervous pose with her arms folded across her stomach.
Then, unexpectedly, something out of her eye corner caught her attention and caused her face to clench with fear. Hurriedly, she skipped around me, progressing to my rear and grabbing a lockable metal moneybox, one I recognised as belonging to the meningitis charity. As she lifted it from the surface, she exposed a photo of a small boy, probably about five or six years old, which was resting alongside. He was someone I didn’t recognise, and as she whisked it away, placing it inside the drawer before proceeding to busy herself with time-wasting tasks, my distress increased.
I was clueless as to who he was, and wondered, albeit briefly if he was another of her immense secrets. However, the role he played in her life was secondary to what was whirring in my head, and I couldn’t get the moneybox from my thoughts. It was easy to believe she had used the contents to pay the builder, and speaking as tactfully as I could manage, I voiced my concerns.
‘The work must have set you back a fair bit. Nothing is cheap these days.’
She scowled at my comment. ‘Isn’t that my business?’
I wasn’t entirely surprised by the harshness of her words, although I had hoped she would be fooled by my gentle approach. Given she wasn’t, and that her taut behaviour told me she was suffering immense anxiety, something I believed I could help with, I decided to be more direct.
‘I’m just concerned. I heard you had money worries.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘It’s not important, and I’m not prying. I’m just concerned. We’re friends are we not? I might be able to help.’
Tidying the surface, her movements were jerky and her eyes were wide. I also noticed her skin was red and blotchy, particularly down her neckline. She was incredibly nervous. It was horrid seeing her suffering such distress.
‘You can talk to me,’ I said in a soothing voice.
Alice spun around. ‘I didn’t take from the charity if that’s what you think!’
‘I wasn’t accusing you.’ I touched her arm. ‘Honestly. I wouldn’t.’
After a few pensive moments, her expression softened. ‘Okay, so I have had a few money worries, but it’s sorted now. The work I’ve had done was courtesy of my ex, Michael. He owed me some money.’
Even if that were true, I doubt he would have given her cash. It was possible she was paying from the funds out of convenience and intended on transferring it back. However, I didn’t want to give her a way out just in case it wasn’t true, and stared wordlessly, willing her to speak honestly.
‘You don’t believe me! You think I stole from the charity fund!’
My words were trapped. Whilst I had already said I wasn’t accusing her, it felt wrong to repeat the words, and searched for another response.
‘I haven’t! I wouldn’t!’ she yelled. ‘Do you realise the effort I’ve put in to raising that money? I’ve raised thousands of pounds for Meningitis, and every penny has gone into the bank! I would never take from it. Never.’
I forced a straight face, neither wanting to show agreement or distrust. If she was going to open up to me, I was going to have to appear both trustworthy and sympathetic. I couldn’t risk being confrontational or accusatory, and must appear to be on her side. However, despite my best efforts, my expression did nothing to calm Alice, and she continued to speak of her defence, telling me how, over the last six months she had raised close to five thousand pounds. I was shocke
d by the amount, and felt certain it would be closer to eight, as I had said to Marion. Trying not to appear suspicious, I quickly did the calculations in my head.
Like Lesley, I felt the concert alone would have raised close to four thousand pounds, and then there were the other major events to consider, a country fair being another of the more successful. That too, would have raised another two to three thousand pounds after overheads. Then there were the bi-monthly car boot sales to include, which were always popular. Given there must have been in excess of thirty cars paying for pitches, and I remember once being told the rent for the land was fifty pounds, the profit would be around about three hundred pounds per event. Over six months, it certainly added to Alice’s funds, and made, on brief reflection, eight thousand pound donation seem like a very conservative figure.
My chest tightened, my anguish deepening. Since I had no evidence she was taking some of the profits, just suspicions, accusing her outright did not seem like an appropriate approach. Yet, if I said nothing and it proved to be true, the consequences for Alice would be much greater. Unable to decide upon a way forward, I held my silence and concentrated upon maintaining my calm exterior. I needed time to consider my actions, and if I was to help her, I needed her to trust me.
A change of subject was for the best. ‘I came to see you for another reason entirely. Drugs have been found at the centre. I …’ I gulped away the dread forming in my throat. Talking about my own problems, as well as considering her possible betrayal was something I preferred not to do, especially given the difficult start to our meeting. However, I had come for a reason and needed to learn the truth. ‘I’ve been suspended pending an investigation. They think I was responsible.’
Alice did not reply and scampered to the sink. When she proceeded to wash the mugs with unwarranted and meticulous care, evidently using it as a distraction, I believed her to be hiding her guilt. Needing to know the truth, I stepped to her rear, staring assertively.
