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Page 22

by Kitty Neale


  Carol nodded, and then it all came out in a rush as she told Amy what had happened; about Roy, the rape, the abortion, sobbing when she came to the end.

  Amy had tears in her eyes too as she said, ‘If I’d known I might have been able to help, or at least be there for you.’

  ‘I was too ashamed to tell anyone, and if the abortion hadn’t been botched, nobody would have needed to know.’

  Amy moved to her side to put an arm around her, and at her friend’s show of sympathy tears ran, unchecked, down Carol’s cheeks. ‘Oh, Amy, I dread to think what’s going to happen when my brothers find out.’

  ‘If you tell them your side of the story before they hear it from anyone else, I’m sure they won’t be angry with you, or throw you out. None of it was your fault, and like me, they’ll realise that.’

  Carol clung to Amy, hoping she was right, but deep down she doubted it.

  Jeremy thought Amy looked upset when she called in to see Tom, and she didn’t look any better when she left. So far the antibiotics hadn’t made any difference and Tom was still rough, with his mother insisting that Amy’s visit was a short one.

  He couldn’t understand why she was so against Amy. From what his mother had said in her letter he’d expected a hard-faced, common, gold-digger, but from what he’d seen Amy was far from that. As they walked into the living room he said, ‘Mum, I don’t know why you don’t like Amy. I think she’s rather nice.’

  ‘Nice! I thought you’d have more sense, but it seems you’re as blind as your brother. You’ve been taken in by her innocent act, but as I told you before, when Amy marries Thomas she’ll take control of the money and I won’t see a penny of it.’

  ‘Amy doesn’t seem that type of girl,’ Jeremy argued. ‘From what I’ve seen you easily intimidate her and I don’t think she’d dare go up against you.’

  ‘You hardly know her, but she’s just the type, a consummate actress who has already pulled the wool over your eyes. Amy has a good teacher in one of her relatives too, a tart who married an old man to get her hands on his money.’

  Jeremy’s eyebrows rose. ‘Really? I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Here’s something else for you to think about. We talked about having a share of the business, but if Amy’s got anything to do with it that’s never going to happen.’

  Jeremy didn’t like the sound of that. Was his mother right about Amy? He didn’t know, but it wasn’t something he was prepared to risk. ‘In that case, Mum, we’re going to have to put our heads together and do something about it.’

  ‘Don’t you think I’ve tried? I’ve done everything I can, but Thomas is so besotted with Amy that he won’t hear a word against her.’

  ‘Let me think about it. Maybe I can come up with something,’ Jeremy suggested.

  ‘Very well. Anyway, with the roast nearly ready I’ll need to cook the vegetables.’

  By the time she returned, Jeremy had come up with a plan that would serve him well. ‘Mum, I’ve got an idea, but to make it work I need to spend more time with Amy,’ he said, going on to explain what he had in mind, and was pleased when she readily agreed.

  ‘There’s only one thing,’ she said. ‘Don’t you think Amy would find it a bit odd if I suddenly change my attitude towards her?’

  ‘Yes, she might,’ Jeremy conceded. ‘Right then, we’ll have to take it slowly.’

  ‘If this works, it’ll be worth it,’ his mother said.

  ‘Oh it’ll work, I’ll see to that,’ Jeremy said confidently. It might take a little longer to achieve his ultimate aims – ones he had kept from his mother to ensure her cooperation, but in the end he’d have everything he wanted.

  ‘I still can’t believe that Carol had an abortion. The poor girl, she must have been through hell,’ Phyllis said.

  They had been talking about it for some time, her mother sympathetic, and Amy nodded, deeply sad for her friend. She couldn’t imagine the horror of being raped, nor of being left pregnant, let alone having a back-street abortion. ‘Yes, she’s been through hell, and now, thanks to the gossips, it’s all been dragged up again.’

  ‘I know,’ Phyllis agreed, ‘and Mabel has already felt the length of my tongue.’

  ‘Hello my lovelies,’ Stan said, grinning as he walked in. ‘I hope my dinner is ready ’cos I’m starving.’

  ‘With all that beer in your belly it’s a wonder you’ve got room for anything else,’ Phyllis chided.

  ‘I only had a few pints,’ he said, but then Amy saw her father’s face straighten as he looked towards her. ‘What’s up, love? Are you still upset about this garbage that’s flying around about Carol?’

  ‘I went to see her this morning,’ she said, going on to tell him what had happened, but then shocked by her father’s response.

  ‘Well now,’ he said, ‘that explains it. With his wife walking out on him, and his daughter getting herself knocked up, it’s no wonder Frank Cole turned to drink.’

  ‘Carol didn’t get herself “knocked up”, as you so crudely put it. The poor girl was raped!’ Phyllis snapped.

  ‘So she says, but if you ask me women are too fond of leading blokes on and then crying rape.’

  ‘My God, all these years and I’ve only just realised that I married a Neanderthal.’

  Amy didn’t want to hear any more and dashed upstairs. She couldn’t believe her father’s attitude, and if he was anything to go by, no wonder Carol was dreading telling her brothers.

  Carol was trying to pluck up the courage to do just that, but so far her nerves were failing her.

  ‘Come on, Carol, what’s up?’ Paul asked. ‘You’ve had a gob on you since we came home and you’ve hardly said a word.’

  ‘It’s probably a woman’s thing,’ Dave commented. ‘She always gets a bit moody around this time of the month.’

  ‘Is that it, Carol? Is your belly giving you a bit of gyp?’ Paul asked.

  ‘No, no, it … it’s just that I’ve got something to tell you.’

  ‘Go on then.’

  ‘You’re going to be furious and I’m scared,’ she said, wringing her hands.

  ‘Has Dad been round? Is that it?’ Paul asked sharply.

  ‘No, I haven’t seen him.’

  ‘What’s wrong then?’ Paul asked.

  Carol began hesitantly, her voice quivering, but when she got to the part about being raped, Paul’s face reddened with anger. ‘Who was it? I’ll kill him!’

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ Dave growled, ‘but I’ll castrate him first.’

  ‘You won’t be able to find him,’ Carol said, her voice still quivering as she continued.

  ‘So Dad knew about this,’ Paul snapped, finally stopping his pacing when she came to the end.

  ‘Yes, he … he called the ambulance and while I was in hospital, he told everyone that I had food poisoning.’

  ‘Yeah, I remember that,’ Dave said. ‘That was at the same time he came round here to tell us that Mum had walked out. He should have told us about this too and between us we could have found the bastard.’

  ‘Yeah, he should’ve,’ Paul hissed angrily. ‘Carol got raped, had an abortion and he didn’t say a bloody word.’

  Carol couldn’t look at her brothers and had her head down as she said, ‘I asked him not to tell you. I … I was so ashamed and I thought you’d go mad.’

  ‘Yeah, we’re going mad all right,’ Dave shouted.

  It had started, and fearing her brothers’ tempers, Carol was shaking, but then Paul yelled, ‘Shut up, Dave. Can’t you see the state she’s in?’

  ‘Yeah, sorry,’ Dave said, ‘but you can’t blame me for doing my nut.’

  Paul sat down beside her and Carol tensed, only to slump with relief when her brother said softly, ‘You shouldn’t feel ashamed and though we’re furious, it isn’t aimed at you. It wasn’t your fault. You were raped, and I don’t blame you for getting rid of the baby. The only thing that puzzles me is why you’ve decided to tell us about it now?’

  ‘Becau
se it’s all come out and the gossips are having a field day.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. We’ll soon sort them out.’

  Carol didn’t want to stir up any more trouble and said, ‘Leave it. I wouldn’t want to give them the satisfaction of thinking they’ve upset us, and anyway, once they find someone else to gossip about it’ll all die down.’

  Paul went quiet for a moment, but then said, ‘All right, if that’s what you want, but if they don’t shut up about it, they’re going to be sorry they were born.’

  Carol laid her head on Paul’s shoulder, glad that her fears had proved ungrounded. Amy had been right she thought, her brothers hadn’t turned on her, instead, as always, they were being protective.

  Her mother had run off, her father had gone out of her life too, but she still had her brothers and at last, Carol was able to smile again.

  Chapter Thirty

  Tommy was a lot better on Tuesday when Amy called in to see him on her way home from work, and she was grateful that Celia Frost allowed her to stay a little longer, this visit extended to half an hour. Of course Celia insisted that Jeremy remain in Tommy’s room the whole time, but Amy found her less stiff and formal when they returned downstairs.

  ‘Amy, I think the antibiotics are helping. Thomas had a less restless night,’ Celia said.

  ‘Oh, that’s good.’

  ‘With Jeremy coming home so unexpectedly and Thomas being so ill, I’m afraid I’ve been rather lax in inviting you to come to join us for dinner on Christmas day.’

  Amy was taken by surprise. She hadn’t expected this invitation and had already agreed to spend Christmas at Rose’s, hoping that Tommy would join them in the evening. ‘Err … thank you, but I’m afraid I’ve made other arrangements.’

  ‘Oh come on, Amy,’ cajoled Jeremy. ‘I don’t know what you and Tom had planned, but it’s only a week away and I doubt he’ll be fit enough to go out.’

  ‘Jeremy is right,’ Celia said. ‘If you can’t join us, I’m afraid Thomas will be very unhappy that he won’t be able to spend any time with you. Can’t you possibly change your arrangements?’

  ‘Well, yes, I suppose I could,’ Amy said, yet though she wanted to be with Tommy, she wasn’t so sure about spending Christmas day with his mother.

  ‘That’s settled then,’ Celia said brusquely.

  ‘I must go. My mother will be wondering where I am,’ Amy said at Celia’s sudden change of tone, glad of an excuse to leave.

  Thankfully Jeremy didn’t press to walk her home this time, something he had taken to doing despite her initial protests. It didn’t take Amy long to walk down the hill and into her house, where she said as soon as she went in, ‘Mum, you’re not going to believe this, but Celia Frost has invited me to join them for Christmas dinner.’

  ‘But you’ve already agreed to come with us to Rose’s.’

  ‘I know, but do you think she’ll mind if I bow out?’

  ‘I shouldn’t think so. Rose is easy-going and takes it as it comes, but I’m not sure how I feel about it. We’ve always spent Christmas together, but now you’re getting married I suppose this is the shape of things to come. How do you feel about it, Stan?’

  ‘It’s all right with me.’

  ‘All right, Amy, go to Celia Frost’s then,’ Phyllis said, although she still sounded a bit peeved. ‘I’ve been keeping your dinner hot so get changed. If you don’t eat it soon it’ll be ruined.’

  Amy was soon sitting at the table, thoughtful as she said to her mother, ‘It’s odd really. Celia Frost always seems to resent any time that Tommy spends with me, so I don’t know what made her invite me to dinner on Christmas day.’

  ‘It’s obvious. Celia has got her other son home again, so it’s made her less clingy and possessive of Tommy.’

  ‘Of course, I hadn’t thought of that,’ Amy said. She was still nervous in Jeremy’s company, but if his being there softened Celia’s attitude towards her, Amy wanted him to stay.

  Mabel was seething. She’d told Phyllis about Carol, proving her point that the girl was a tart, but Phyllis refused to believe it and all she’d got in return was a mouthful of abuse. She’d tried to tell Phyllis that she was just trying to protect Amy from having such an unsuitable friend, yet it hadn’t made any difference, she’d still been shown the door. Well that was it; Phyllis could stew in her own juice from now on and Rose was welcome to her.

  Jack was on a late shift and wouldn’t be home until nine that evening, so with nothing else to do Mabel was doing her best to look out of her window, hating the dark, winter evenings. The scaffolding obscured her view, and seeing as the work was finished she was annoyed that it was still up. There was a lack of street light too, as one of the lamps was out, but nevertheless Mabel saw someone lurking about next door. The Coles’ house was empty, so it seemed a bit suspicious to Mabel, but unable to get a better view she had no choice but to go to her front door. Opening it cautiously Mabel peered round it, surprised to see a policeman, bent double as he looked through the letterbox. ‘You’re wasting your time,’ she called. ‘That house is empty.’

  The copper stood up, put his helmet back on and walked up to her. ‘I’m looking for any relatives of a Mr Frank Cole.’

  ‘You won’t find any in there,’ Mabel said. ‘His sons and his daughter live someone along Lavender Hill.’

  ‘Do you have their address?’

  ‘No, but you can try next door,’ Mabel said, indicating Phyllis’s house.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said.

  ‘Hold on, what has Frank Cole done now?’ Mabel called.

  She was ignored and as the copper knocked on Phyllis’s door, Mabel swiftly closed hers. Phyllis had called her a nasty-minded, malicious gossip and Mabel wasn’t going to give her more ammunition. Instead she rushed back to the living room and pressed her ear to the wall. If Phyllis let the copper in, she might find out why he wanted to find Frank’s relatives.

  When the policeman left, Carol found her feelings were all over the place. He was dead! She had hated him; loathed what he tried to do to her, but other memories now flooded her mind. Childhood ones, happy ones; of being spoiled, of laughter when they were all together as a family. The man she remembered from those times had been different, a good man and not the stinking drunk who had come into her bedroom …

  ‘I just can’t take it in,’ Dave said, interrupting her thoughts. ‘Dead, found in the filthy basement of a bombed-out building, and now they want us to identify him.’

  ‘I’m not looking forward to it,’ Paul said, ‘but according to that copper, if they hadn’t found an old letter in Dad’s pocket with his name and address on it, he might have remained unknown.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Dave said bitterly, ‘and there was no sign of foul play. He was just another frozen, drunken down and out that nobody gives a shit about.’

  ‘Shut up!’ Paul shouted. ‘I feel bad enough that I didn’t try to find him, without you rubbing it in.’

  ‘I’m not trying to rub it in,’ Dave argued. ‘I feel rotten about it too, but if you remember, after finding out what he did to Carol, neither of us wanted anything to do with him.’

  ‘He was still our dad!’ Paul yelled.

  Carol knew that Paul was more sensitive than Dave and this was hitting him badly, his grief manifesting in anger. ‘I … I suppose you think I should’ve given him another chance,’ she said, tears welling in her eyes as she looked up at him.

  Perhaps it was seeing her distress, Carol didn’t know, but the anger seemed to drain from Paul as he shook his head. ‘No, we couldn’t risk that, but if me and Dave had looked for him, maybe we could’ve got him off the booze and back on his feet.’

  ‘It’s no good dwelling on if’s and maybe’s,’ Dave said. ‘We’ve got to live with the choices we made, and anyway, we weren’t Dad’s keepers.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right,’ Paul agreed, and as though grateful to find things to assuage his guilt he added, ‘If anything, everything went pear-shaped
for Dad when Mum left him.’

  ‘I still can’t make sense of why she walked out, nor why we haven’t heard from her since,’ Dave mused. ‘We didn’t try to find Dad, but we could try looking for her.’

  ‘Let’s get Dad sorted out first,’ Paul said. ‘We’ve got to identify him and then we’ve got to collect his belongings from the police station.’

  ‘What’s the point? All he probably had were the stinking clothes he was found in.’

  ‘I know, but there might be some small thing we’d like to keep, perhaps his wedding ring.’

  ‘He probably flogged it for booze ages ago,’ Dave said.

  ‘Maybe, but it might be something he hung on to, and then there’s the funeral to arrange.’

  ‘Mum should be there,’ Dave argued.

  Paul heaved a sigh. ‘I doubt we’d find her in time … if at all.’

  ‘We should still give it a try.’

  ‘All right, but we can’t do anything tonight. Not only that, the copper said we should go to the morgue in the morning so before we do anything else, we’ll need to get that over with first.’

  Carol closed her eyes against her brother’s words. Morgue, they were going to the morgue, where in her imagination they would see her father laid out on a cold slab. It hit her then. Her dad was dead. She began to cry – not for the man who had almost raped her – but for the father she had loved.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The scaffolding was being taken down outside when Amy left for work on Wednesday morning, a little earlier than usual. The men’s wolf-whistles and cheeky comments followed her as she hurried up the hill, but Amy was too worried about Carol to pay them any mind.

  She feared that something dreadful must have happened to Carol’s dad and walked as fast as she could, arriving at the flat on Lavender Hill out of breath. Carol let her in, eyes red-rimmed and her face pale as she told Amy that her father was dead.

  Amy was shocked, and stammered, ‘Oh, Carol, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘None of us are going to work today,’ Carol said as Amy followed her upstairs. ‘Dave and Paul are going to arrange the funeral, but I doubt it’ll take place before Christmas.’

 

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