Kitty Neale 3 Book Bundle

by Kitty Neale

  ‘He can manage, and if you rest over the weekend you may be well enough on Monday.’

  ‘I’m fine now, and I’m seeing Amy again tonight.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s wise,’ she said, thinking quickly. ‘You were over-tired when you came home last night. If you really want to return to work on Monday you must stay in and take it easy until then.’

  ‘There’s no need for that, Mum. I told you I’m fine so please stop fussing.’

  Celia thought Thomas sounded just like his father and annoyed she said, ‘When you’re ill, it’s me who has to look after you, running up and down stairs, wearing myself out to cater for your every need. You don’t call it fussing then.’

  Thomas blinked, looked surprised by her outburst, but then said, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. I am.’

  ‘Then don’t accuse me of fussing when I’m just trying to make sure you don’t do too much before you’re fully recovered.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have said that, and I’m sorry,’ Thomas said, apologising again.

  Mollified, Celia said, ‘You’re forgiven, but I don’t want you to go out on Saturday night. I’ve invited the Willards to dinner and as Melissa is coming too, it would be nice for her to have someone of her own age to talk to.’

  ‘I’d rather go out with Amy.’

  ‘You’ll have seen Amy for two nights by then, and as I’ve already told Melissa that you’ll be here, it would look very rude if you went out.’

  ‘You could invite Amy too.’

  Celia was appalled and made an excuse. ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that. It would upset the numbers, and the dining table only seats six.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘Thomas,’ Celia interrupted, doing her best to look upset, ‘I’m really looking forward to this dinner party, so please don’t ruin it for me.’

  ‘Oh, all right. I suppose I can see Amy on Sunday.’

  ‘Thank you, darling. Now, what would you like for breakfast?’

  ‘A boiled egg would be nice.’

  Celia went through to the kitchen, smiling that she had got her own way.

  At eleven o’clock, Phyllis at last took her turn to see the doctor. There had been quite a lot of people in front of her when she’d arrived, and at first she’d been tempted to leave, but the walk to the surgery had worn her out so she’d sunk gratefully onto an empty seat.

  ‘How are you, Mrs Miller?’ the doctor asked, indicating a chair to the side of his desk while taking out her scant notes.

  Phyllis wasn’t surprised that there was little for him to read. She was rarely ill and couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Dr Trent. ‘I’m not feeling too well. I fainted recently, and I feel tired all the time.’

  ‘Have you any other symptoms, shortness of breath, chest pains?’

  ‘No, nothing like that.’

  He leaned forward to pull down her lower eyelid and then said, ‘You may be anaemic. Take off your coat and top please. I’ll examine your chest.’

  Phyllis felt embarrassed, but did as Dr Trent asked. When she was ready he turned to look at her and frowned. ‘You look severely underweight. Have you got a cough and if so, have you coughed up any blood?’

  Startled, Phyllis wondered if he thought she had tuberculosis. Her voice trembled as she replied, ‘I haven’t got a cough, so no.’

  Nevertheless he put his stethoscope to his ears and moved round to her back, telling her to breathe in and out naturally. He did the same at the front, removed the stethoscope and then pinched the skin on her forearm between his finger and thumb. ‘Get dressed and sit down again, Mrs Miller.’

  Phyllis found her hands shaking so much that she had difficulty fastening her buttons. Tuberculosis, no please, not that, she inwardly prayed.

  At last she was dressed and as she sat down again Dr Trent said, ‘Your chest is clear, but you’re anaemic and from what I can see, severely undernourished.’

  ‘I … I haven’t got TB?’

  ‘No, Mrs Miller, we can rule that out. However, I’m concerned about your weight. Have you got a problem with your digestion, pain when you eat?’

  ‘No, I haven’t.’

  ‘Any vomiting or diarrhoea?’

  Once again Phyllis said no, and Dr Trent leaned back in his chair, studying her for a moment, before saying, ‘Mrs Miller, are you actually eating anything?’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course.’

  ‘Well, clearly not enough,’ he said. ‘You look like you’ve been deliberately starving yourself. That isn’t the case is it?’

  ‘Of course it isn’t,’ she said indignantly.

  ‘Is it that you can’t afford to eat properly?’

  ‘Well, I must admit I’ve been a bit short lately, but things have changed and I’ll have a bit more money now.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it, because continued undernourishment can lead to serious problems,’ he said, before scribbling out a prescription. ‘Take these pills for your anaemia and come back in a month. By which time I want to see that you’ve put on weight. ’

  ‘Yes, doctor,’ Phyllis said, feeling a huge sense of relief as she left the surgery to walk home. Deep down she’d been worried about her tiredness, had thought she had something seriously wrong with her, but it was just lack of proper food and anaemia. She would only tell Stan and Amy about the anaemia and say that the pills would soon put her right. Her daughter could stop worrying, and tonight she’d try to be the peacemaker between Amy and her father.

  ‘Amy, cheer up,’ Carol said at work during a quick break mid-morning. ‘All right, you fell out with your dad, and your mum had a go at you, but it’s not the end of the world. They dote on you so all you’ve got to do is apologise when you get home and it’ll be over and done with.’

  ‘I hope so,’ Amy said.

  ‘Is your mum in a state about Winnie Morrison?’ Carol asked. ‘Come to that, are you?’

  ‘It was awful to see her like that, and I was at first, but I’m all right now. She was a nice old lady, but I didn’t really have that much to do with her. Mum was really upset though and now I’ve gone and made things worse.’

  Fed up of hearing about Amy’s fall out with her parents, Carol changed the subject. ‘The week has dragged, but it’s Friday at last and tonight I’m going out to dinner with Roy.’

  ‘And I’m seeing Tommy,’ Amy said, at last smiling.

  ‘Where is he taking you?’ Carol asked.

  ‘I don’t know, probably just for another walk but it won’t be a long one. Tommy’s a lot better, but he tires quickly.’

  Carol thought it sounded boring. A walk, no thanks, it wasn’t for her. She’d rather go dancing or to the pictures, but tonight was something different again. They were going out to dinner, and not only that, Roy had a car!

  ‘Carol, Amy, you’ve had a fifteen-minute break, and we have customers.’

  ‘Coming, Miss Winters,’ Carol called, reluctantly going back into the shop to assist a woman who was waiting to be served.

  ‘Have you got those in a size six?’ the woman asked, pointing to a flat, brown shoe on display.

  ‘I’ll have a look for you,’ she said politely, while glancing outside to see if she could see Roy on the other side of the road. There was no sign of him, but it didn’t matter. She’d be seeing him tonight and she had the perfect dress to wear, one that made her look older and sophisticated.

  Carol smiled as she went to the stock room, hoping that this date with Roy would be the first of many, unaware then that Roy had something entirely different on his mind.

  Chapter Nine

  Amy was ready with her apology when she arrived home from work, and as soon as she saw her father, tears welled in her eyes. ‘Dad, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.’

  He looked at her for a moment and Amy held her breath, but then his arms opened. As she walked into them he said, ‘You were worried about your mum, and it’s understandable. I shouldn’t have los
t my temper and I’m sorry too.’

  ‘Well you can stop worrying,’ Phyllis said from the kitchen doorway. ‘I went to see the doctor today and there’s nothing much wrong with me. He said I’m tired because I’m anaemic, that’s all. The pills he prescribed will soon sort me out.’

  Amy smiled, happy that her dad had forgiven her, and happier still to hear that her mum was going to be all right. She looked at her now and puzzled, said, ‘I can’t believe the pills have worked that quickly, but you look so much better already.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I haven’t got Winnie to look after so I had a little nap this afternoon and it made all the difference. Now dinner’s ready, so change your clothes and I’ll

  dish up.’

  Amy ran up to her room. She had been fretting all day, but Carol was right, she’d soon been forgiven for her outburst. She hoped her friend would enjoy her date that evening, especially as she’d had to listen to her going on and on all week about Roy taking her out to dinner, along with the fact that he had a car.

  It might be nice to have a boyfriend with a car,

  Amy thought, but it didn’t matter to her that Tommy didn’t have one. She’d be seeing him later and once changed, she ran back downstairs, smiling happily at the thought.

  Carol had previously told her mum that she didn’t want any dinner and after calling a quick hello, she went upstairs to get ready. She was meeting Roy at eight and wanted to make sure she looked perfect.

  It was seven thirty before Carol was satisfied with her appearance, leaving her only half an hour to get to Arding & Hobbs. She hurried downstairs and into the living room, saying, ‘I’m off. See you later.’

  ‘Hold on, my girl,’ her dad called. ‘Your mum told me you’re going out to dinner with some bloke, but I want to know a bit more than that. Who is he? Is he a local, and where is he taking you?’

  ‘Dad, if I don’t leave now I’ll be late.’

  ‘You’re going nowhere until you answer my questions.’

  Carol could have screamed with frustration, but she knew she’d never get out of the door until she appeased her dad. ‘His name is Roy, he’s a shop fitter, doing up a place across the road from where I work. I’m not sure what restaurant he’s taking me to, but I promise I won’t be late home. Please, Dad, can I go now?’

  He pursed his lips, but at last said, ‘Yeah, I suppose so.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad. Bye, Mum,’ Carol said and grabbing her coat she dashed out, unable to run in heels as she hurried up the Rise and onto Lavender Hill. Thankfully she saw a bus coming and just managed to hop onto it, flopping down on the nearest seat to catch her breath. It was only a couple of stops to Clapham Junction, but it gave her enough time to compose herself. She got off, and was soon approaching the department store, disappointed to find that Roy wasn’t there yet.

  Carol hated standing around, but within minutes she heard a car horn and as he drew into the kerb, Roy leaned over to open the door, saying, ‘Hop in.’

  Carol was impressed. It was a big, black car, a saloon, though she had no idea what make it was. ‘Hello,’ she said, climbing in.

  ‘You look nice,’ he said.

  ‘Thanks,’ she replied, liking the compliment as they drove off, especially as he had yet to see her dress.

  ‘Carol, I’m afraid I’ve come out without my wallet.’

  ‘Oh,’ was all she managed, hoping that Roy didn’t expect her to pay for dinner.

  ‘Not to worry. I’ve booked a table for eight thirty and as the restaurant isn’t far from where I live it’ll give me plenty of time to pop in and get it.’

  ‘That’s good,’ she said, relaxing now and enjoying the drive. She glanced at Roy, thinking that he looked nice too in a dark blue suit and tie. They continued to chat easily, finding that they shared the same taste in music, and Carol hardly took note of the journey as she continued to glance at Roy, thinking that he was a real catch.

  It was some time later when Roy turned into a side street in Tooting and pulled up outside a terraced house. ‘I’ll just get my wallet,’ he said. ‘It won’t take long, but you’re welcome to come in for a minute. I could do with a woman’s view on my new decor.’

  Curious to see his flat, and flattered that he wanted her opinion, Carol said, ‘Yes, all right.’

  As soon as Roy opened the door, she could see that the house had been divided into two flats, and she followed him upstairs. He used a Yale key to open a door at the top of the stairs, and she saw a tiny hall before they went into a room that wasn’t a bad size, though part of it was screened off to serve as a kitchenette. The decor in her opinion was awful, in various shades of brown, the carpet old and feeling sticky beneath her feet. Not only that, there was a stale smell of tobacco, mingled with cooking fat.

  ‘Well, what do you think?’ Roy asked.

  ‘Err … err …’ Carol hesitated.

  ‘It’s all right, I can see by your face what you think,’ he said, chuckling, ‘but I haven’t done anything with this room yet. My wallet’s next door so come and see that.’

  He led her back to the tiny landing, and flinging open another door, she stepped inside to find herself in a bedroom. She barely had time to notice the equally bad decor before Roy pulled her into his arms. For a moment Carol froze, but then feeling a frisson of fear she tried to push him away. ‘Stop it, Roy.’

  ‘Come on,’ he husked, tightening his hold, ‘don’t bother playing hard to get. As soon as you agreed to come in, we both knew what was going to happen.’

  ‘No, no,’ she protested. ‘I just came to look at your flat.’

  ‘It isn’t mine, but as my mate was good enough to leave it clear for us, we might as well make the most of it.’

  As Roy tried to kiss her, Carol turned her head away, struggling against his arms. ‘Let go of me!’

  Powerless against his strength, Carol found herself thrown on the bed with Roy holding both her wrists above her head with one hand, while he frenziedly used the other to lift up her clothes. She tried to fight him off, kicked out with her legs, but he pinned her down. What happened next made Carol cry out in pain and distress, but Roy ignored her frantic cries for him to stop.

  When at last it was over, Carol was left sobbing,

  while Roy looked at her dispassionately and said, ‘Act your age, you daft mare. I don’t know what all this fuss is about.’

  Anger rose then to almost choke her, her voice a croak as she said, ‘You’re not getting away with this. I … I’m going to tell the police that you raped me.’

  Roy’s eyes narrowed, but then his smile was mocking. ‘Go on then, but when I tell them my version of the story, who do you think they’ll believe?’

  ‘What … what do you mean?’

  ‘Think about it. You’re twenty-three, an adult, and they’re not going to see you as an innocent when only half an hour after meeting me you willingly came up to this flat, knowing we’d be alone. Any bloke would take that as a signal and yours was loud and clear.’

  ‘But I wasn’t giving you a signal and I’m only seventeen.’

  ‘What! That means you’re underage,’ Roy yelled, his face suffused with anger. ‘You lied to me and if you don’t keep your mouth shut I could end up inside.’

  ‘You shouldn’t ha … have done it. I said no, tried to fight you off, but you wouldn’t stop.’

  Roy looked agitated now and rubbed a hand around his chin before saying, ‘I just thought you fought a bit because you like it rough. After all, I’ve known other women who do. If you drop me in it I’ll make sure a mate of mine on your local paper gets to hear about it. I’ll tell him that seventeen or not you’re a tart, and when I wouldn’t pay for it, you got your own back by accusing me of rape. I bet your parents would love to see that splashed across the newspaper.’

  Carol felt bile rising in her throat, utterly humiliated as she scrambled off the bed, wanting only to get away from Roy. She still had her coat on, and as she straightened herself out, Carol felt soiled and sul
lied with shame.

  Her shoes had come off in the struggle, and shoving her feet into them she hurried from the room, her mind and emotions in turmoil.

  Roy did nothing to prevent Carol from leaving. He couldn’t believe that he’d got it so wrong. When she’d agreed to come up to the flat, knowing she’d be alone with him, he’d taken it as read that she was as keen for sex as he was.

  Of course there’d been a bit of a struggle, but he’d

  seen that as part of the game. It had come as a shock to find that Carol was a virgin, but of course by then he’d been too far gone to stop. He groaned, still unable to believe that he’d misread the signals. Carol didn’t look seventeen, nor had she acted like a virgin, with all the flirting and flaunting she’d done to attract his attention in the first place.

  Roy hoped that the act he’d put on, the confidence he’d displayed that the police wouldn’t believe her, along with the threat of being splashed across the local paper would be enough to stop Carol from reporting him for rape. If she still did, Roy thought, at least she had no idea where he lived, or his surname. That bit of hope was soon quashed when Roy realised that Carol knew where he worked, and though the job was finished, he could still be traced through his firm.

  At last he left the flat, desolate, knowing that his only chance was that he’d said enough to stop Carol from going to the police. It wouldn’t be long before he found out one way or the other, and in the meantime he would have to put on a front, act like he didn’t have a worry in the world.

  It was half an hour later when Roy pulled up outside his small, terraced house. He got out of the car and went inside, fixing a smile on his face as he said to his wife, ‘Hello, darling.’

  She rose to waddle towards him, heavily into the pregnancy, but still so beautiful that she took his breath away. Her ankles were badly swollen due to high blood pressure and she’d been advised to take it easy. Roy dreaded to think what would happen if it all came out; the hurt and stress it would cause.

  Worse, it would probably mean the end of his marriage. Roy cursed his weakness for illicit sex, and vowed that it would never happen again as he gently took his wife into his arms.