Kitty Neale 3 Book Bundle

by Kitty Neale

  ‘Carol, but she’s going to be all right,’ he said.

  ‘What’s wrong with her?’ Mabel asked.

  ‘I’ve been up all night and I’m in no mood for questions,’ he said tersely, brushing past them.

  ‘Well, that’s nice ain’t it,’ Mabel complained. ‘I only asked out of concern for Carol.’

  Amy doubted that, but kept her opinion to herself, only saying, ‘Carol’s mum must still be at the hospital, and maybe I’ll be allowed to visit her this evening.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure you will, love, but you’d best get a move on now or you’re going to be very late for work.’

  ‘All right, see you later,’ Amy called as she hurried up the hill thinking about her friend. If Carol had been suffering an underlying illness for some time, it explained why she hadn’t been herself lately. Poor Carol, but at least her dad said she was going to be all right.

  She passed Tommy’s house, tensing as she imagined his mother flying out to confront her about Rose like a dragon breathing fire. Nothing happened, but for how long? How long before both Tommy and his mother found out the truth?

  Chapter Thirteen

  At first, Carol had barely been aware that she’d undergone emergency surgery to stop the bleeding, nor did she know that her father had refused to leave the hospital until he knew that she was going to be all right.

  It was late afternoon before Carol fully realised that she had nearly died, yet when questioned she had refused to tell the doctor who had performed the abortion. She knew they were illegal and that no doctor would have performed one – it had been her choice to go to the woman, and though warned of the risks, she had paid the fee; sure that she had no other option. Carol had sensed the doctor’s annoyance, and though most of the nurses were kind, there was one who showed her obvious disapproval.

  Carol still felt drained as she absentmindedly scanned the ward she’d been moved to, avoiding eye contact with any of the other occupants. They were all women, some pregnant, but she had no idea why they had been admitted. In one bed a young woman was crying softly, but Carol was too preoccupied with her own unhappiness to care.

  Time dragged, but at last it was visiting time. She watched the door, looking out for her mother, but behind a stream of other visitors, she saw only her father. He looked dreadful; dishevelled, pale, and when he came to stand by her bed she blurted out, ‘Where’s Mum? Isn’t she with you?’

  ‘No, she ain’t.’

  ‘Dad, I can understand why she’s angry with me,’ Carol said as tears threatened. ‘She’s probably furious, but I was hoping she’d come so that I could explain why I did it.’

  He pulled up a chair, sat down and said tersely, ‘You can explain it to me.’

  Carol felt her father’s animosity and gulped, but she managed a stuttering start. He listened in silence until she got to the part about going up to Roy’s flat, but then his face reddened with fury. ‘You did what?’ he yelled, drawing looks from all over the ward.

  ‘Dad, please, I … I know it was stupid, but I didn’t expect him to … to rape me.’

  ‘He did what?’ he yelled again, this time jumping to his feet. ‘Where is he? I’ll kill him!’

  ‘I … I don’t know. He lied to me and the flat wasn’t his.’

  ‘Mr Cole,’ a nurse said as she hurried up to them. ‘I must ask you to keep your voice down. You’re disturbing the other patients and visitors.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, sorry, nurse,’ he said, sitting down again, though his legs shook with suppressed agitation.

  ‘Dad, when … when I found out that I was pregnant, I didn’t know what to do. I knew you and Mum would go mad, and not only that, I … I couldn’t stand the thought that I was having his … his …’ Unable to carry on, Carol buried her face in her hands as tears now streamed down her cheeks.

  She became aware of her father stroking her head, his soft murmurs that he understood, until at last she was able to stifle her soft sobs. ‘Dad, will … will you tell Mum what happened, tell her I’m sorry and … and ask her to come to see me?’

  ‘I can’t, love. Your mum’s gone and she left before we both came home from work. She doesn’t know that you had an abortion, or that you’re in hospital.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Carol asked, confused. ‘Where has Mum gone and when is she coming back?’

  He ran both hands over his face, and then said, ‘After you went to bed last night, I found a letter from your mother on the mantelpiece. It had fallen behind the clock, but I saw the edge of an envelope sticking out. Here, you might as well read it.’

  Carol took the letter, frowning as she read.

  Frank, I’m sorry. I am leaving you. I’ve been nothing but a wife and mother for so many years, but the children are adults now and no longer need me. I’m sick of just being used and want to make a new life for myself. Please don’t try to find me as it would be pointless. Nothing will persuade me to come back, but please tell the children that once I am settled I will write to them.

  Carol expected more, but the letter was brief, unsigned, the words somehow cold and clipped. She looked at her father, saw the pain and hurt in his eyes as her hand reached out to grasp his. ‘I don’t know what Mum means by just being used, but she’ll come back, Dad. I’m sure she will.’

  ‘Maybe, I don’t know, but I’ll have to tell your brothers. Knowing those two, they’ll be more upset that your mother won’t be around to do their washing and ironing.’

  Carol felt tired, emotional, and sank weakly back onto her pillows. ‘Dad, I’m sorry I let you down, but please, don’t tell the boys what happened to me, or about the abortion. I feel so ashamed and I don’t want them, or anyone else to know.’

  For a moment he said nothing, but then he sighed. ‘All right, love. We’ll do our best to keep it a secret, but we’ll need a cover story. Amy collared me this morning along with her mum and that nosey cow Mabel. We’ll have to come up with something to put them off the scent.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Dad, but maybe you could say it’s my appendix or something,’ Carol suggested, fighting to keep her eyes open.

  ‘I’m not sure you’ll be in hospital long enough for that, but we could try something like food poisoning.’

  ‘Yes, good idea,’ Carol said wearily, her eyes closing.

  Carol felt her father stroking her hair again as he said, ‘I can see you’re tired and I think it’s time I left. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Somehow she managed to open her eyes a slit, even managed a small smile, and seeing her father’s sad face she wanted to reassure him again that her mother would come back. She opened her mouth to speak, but he placed a finger over her lips, saying softly, ‘It’s all right. Everything is going to be all right. Just go to sleep, love.’

  Unable to fight it, Carol did.

  Frank left the hospital again, his feelings still all over the place. He had been shocked, angry, then despairing after reading Daphne’s letter, but all those emotions had been overshadowed when he’d been in fear for his daughter’s life. He had spent the night at the hospital and it had been morning before a doctor told him that Carol was going to be all right. But, unable to see her, he had been advised to go home.

  On Lark Rise, in no mood to speak to Amy, her mother, or that nosey mare Mabel he’d brushed them aside. Once inside his empty house Frank had drawn the curtains against the outside world and broken down, clutching the letter again. There had been no warning, no signs that Daphne was unhappy, yet everything around him had obviously been an illusion, his marriage nothing but a farce.

  Unable to face turning up late for work, Frank had remained indoors all day as his mind twisted and turned, first dwelling on Daphne and then his daughter. Carol had been pregnant, then she’d gone to a back-street abortionist and it had nearly killed her. He had thought his daughter perfect, untouched, but that had turned out to be false too. Well that was it, Frank had decided. Like her mother, Carol could bugger off too – and good riddance to both of them. />
  By visiting time that evening, Frank’s mind was well and truly made up and he’d intended to tell Carol that he never wanted to see her face again, yet all that had changed when he’d heard his daughter’s story. She’d been raped, a bastard taking her innocence. He vowed that he’d find the bloke, and when he did, he’d make him suffer. Frank’s hands balled into fists at the thought.

  Until he got more information about the bloke from Carol, it would have to wait, but in no mood to go home to an empty house, Frank decided to see his sons. He would have to tell them about their mother and might as well get it over with.

  He went to their flat on Lavender Hill, and his elder son Paul opened the door when he arrived. ‘Well this is a surprise. Come on in, Dad.’

  Frank followed his son into their living room, where Davy, his younger one, looked equally surprised to see him as he almost spilled a pretty red-haired girl from his lap. ‘Dad! What’s up?’

  ‘We need to talk, and in private,’ Frank said, looking pointedly at the redhead.

  ‘Sorry, Gloria,’ Davy said as he pushed the girl to her feet. ‘You’ll have to get lost for a while.’

  She pouted prettily, but then shrugged, saying nonchalantly, ‘Fine, I’ll leave. See you around.’

  Dave followed the redhead out of the room, but he was soon back, smiling with amusement as he said, ‘Gloria pretends she doesn’t care, but she can’t get enough of me.’

  ‘We’ve got more important things to talk about than your love life,’ Frank snapped.

  Dave’s eyes widened, but he only said, ‘All right, so sit down and tell us what this is all about.’

  Frank took a seat, his sons too, before he said abruptly, ‘Your mother’s left me.’

  ‘What?’ Paul exclaimed. ‘No, I don’t believe it.’

  ‘Believe it or not, but I’m telling you she’s gone,’ Frank said as he pulled the letter from his pocket and handed it to Paul. ‘You’d better read that.’

  ‘What does it say?’ Dave asked.

  Paul read it out, and both looked stunned. There was a pause, as though they needed time to take it in, but then Davy said, ‘So Mum just left, leaving this letter, and we’re supposed to wait until she gets in touch with us?’

  ‘That’s about it,’ Frank said.

  ‘There must be more to it than this. Did you have an argument or something?’ Paul asked. ‘If you did, once Mum has calmed down she’s sure to come back.’

  ‘There was no argument. Just that letter,’ Frank said wearily as exhaustion now hit him. ‘There’s one other thing. Carol was admitted to hospital with food poisoning, but she’s fine. She might be allowed home tomorrow so there’s no point in going to visit her.’

  ‘What did she eat to cause that?’ Dave questioned.

  ‘She isn’t sure, but it was probably a bit of dodgy fish,’ Frank lied. ‘Anyway, I’m bushed, so I’m off now.’

  For the first time, he heard concern in Dave’s voice. ‘Dad, with Mum leaving like that, it must be hard on you. Are you all right?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll cope.’

  ‘Have you tried Gran’s? Mum might be there,’ Paul suggested.

  ‘She isn’t. It’s the first place I checked.’

  For the first time Paul echoed his brother’s concern. ‘If you need anything, or any help to find Mum, just ask, Dad.’

  ‘You read her letter. Your mother doesn’t want to be found, and to be honest, that suits me fine.’

  ‘You don’t mean that, Dad.’

  ‘Yes I do, son,’ Frank said and after saying goodbye, he tiredly made his way home. He had meant what he said to his son. After walking out on him like that, leaving just a blunt letter, he wasn’t going to run after Daphne. She was looking for a new life, so let her find one. She wouldn’t find it easy without a man bringing home a wage, and with few skills, he doubted she’d get much of a job.

  With a grim sense of satisfaction, Frank imagined his wife living in a grotty one-room flat, probably beginning to miss him and the decent life he’d worked hard to provide her with. She’d eventually come crawling back, he decided, and he would enjoy shutting the door in her face.

  With that thought still in his mind, Frank arrived home, and despite his bravado, he hated walking into an empty house. Still, it wouldn’t be for long. Carol would be home again soon and the two of them would jog along nicely.

  Frank went to bed, his last thought that he’d keep his daughter safe and close to him. From now on he’d make sure that no other man ever laid a finger on her again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Amy was in bed on that Tuesday night too, unable to sleep as her mind twisted and turned. Any hopes she’d held that Rose hadn’t run off with Tommy’s dad had been quashed. Her mother had been to Rose’s flat on her way home from work and found it empty.

  Added to that, Amy was concerned about Carol and after a restless night she woke on Wednesday, hoping to find out how her friend was before she left for work. When her mother arrived home from her early morning cleaning job, Amy was ready to leave and said, ‘I’m going ask Mrs Cole how Carol is.’

  ‘All right, love,’ Phyllis said as she kicked off her shoes. ‘Let me know what she says.’

  Amy hurried out, surprised when instead of Mrs Cole, Carol’s father opened the door. ‘Err, hello, Mr Cole, I thought you’d be at work.’

  ‘I’ve got a couple of days off.’

  Amy wondered if it was to do with her friend and asked worriedly, ‘Is Carol all right?’

  ‘Yes, she’s fine. It was food poisoning.’

  ‘Can I go to see her this evening?’

  ‘There’s no point. She’ll probably be allowed home later today, or if not, tomorrow morning.’

  Amy hadn’t seen Mrs Cole since Carol had been taken ill, so asked, ‘Is your wife ill with food poisoning too?’

  There was a momentary hesitation, but then he said, ‘Yeah, a touch of it and she’s in bed. That’s why I’m taking a couple of days off.’

  ‘Oh dear, can I do anything to help?’

  ‘Thanks for the offer, but we’re coping. It didn’t hit Daphne as hard as Carol, and as I was just about to make her a cup of tea I’d best get on with it.’

  The door closed before Amy could say anything else and turned to see Mabel Povis on her doorstep, arms folded across her chest.

  Amy tensed, dreading that the news had broken out about Tommy’s dad and Rose, but instead Mrs Povis asked, ‘Well, did you manage to get anything out of Frank Cole this time?’

  Relieved, Amy said, ‘Yes, Carol has food poisoning, but she’s getting over it now, and though Mrs Cole wasn’t as bad, she’s been in bed with it too.’

  ‘She can’t be much of a cook then,’ Mabel said sarcastically. ‘Still, it explains why I haven’t heard a peep out of Daphne Cole for a couple of days. Sometimes her voice is loud enough to hear through my walls.’

  A door opened on the other side of the road, and moments later, tubby, middle-aged Edna Price scurried over to join them, her hair still in curlers and slippers on her feet. ‘Amy, I saw you talking to Frank Cole. What did he have to say?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I must go or I’ll be late for work, but Mrs Povis will tell you.’

  ‘Well, Edna,’ Mabel began.

  After hurrying indoors again to tell her mother what she had found out, Amy walked briskly up Lark Rise, deciding that rather than be late, she’d get a bus to work. She hadn’t seen Tommy since he’d told her that his dad had left, and though she hoped he was all right, when she reached his house, Amy didn’t have the courage to knock on the door.

  Maybe he’d come to her house that evening, Amy hoped; but once again she feared that when the truth came out, Tommy would never want to see her again.

  Celia’s head was still spinning with all the ramifications she’d had to face since George had left two days ago, not least that Thomas now owned the business. Celia had seen a change in her son’s personality almost overnight – he had taken over the runnin
g of the business with a maturity that surprised her. Already that morning, over breakfast, Thomas had said he was going to employ another glazier. It would mean buying another van, but he seemed confident that it would be money well spent.

  It had been such a short time since he had taken over and Celia felt that Thomas was moving too fast. She tried to caution him, but he’d dismissed her concerns as though her opinion counted for nothing.

  Alone in the house now, Celia sat unmoving, uncaring that she was still in her dressing gown and the housework untouched. George had left her and Celia’s emotions were raw. Where was he? And who was this other woman? Was it someone she knew? Tears filled her eyes. She had thought her marriage perfect, her home one to be proud of, and had enjoyed her social standing, but now her life was never going to be the same again.

  The doorbell chimed and Celia stiffened. She didn’t want to see anyone, and hoped that whoever it was would go away. The bell rang again, followed shortly after by the rattle of the letterbox as something was pushed through, then, thankfully, silence.

  Celia went into the hall, saw the envelope and bent to pick it up. It was addressed to both her and George and was from Libby Willard – a formal invitation to attend a reception to celebrate her daughter’s engagement. To add to her misery, the reception was to be held in the Conservative Club. Celia sank onto the bottom of the stairs, covering her face with her hands.

  Libby obviously didn’t know yet that George had left her, but it was sure to come out eventually. When it did, and even if the invitation still stood, Celia knew that she would never be able to walk into the Conservative Club on her own. She could just imagine the looks of disdain or pity on the other women’s faces and she couldn’t stand the thought of that.

  Self-pity could have swamped Celia, but she was a proud woman and that pride sustained her now as she rose to her feet. She had done it once, dragged herself out of the slums, and there was no way she was going to let people look down on her now. George had shunned her offer to help him with the business, the paperwork that he found impossible, but she wouldn’t let that happen again. She’d insist that Thomas allowed her to be involved, and together they’d expand the business. With her help it would be a success, and she’d be a rich woman, able to hold her head up high.