Katherine Louis hobbled to the waiting car; her corn was more painful than ever and she was not in the best of moods.
Maureen followed behind, edgy and irritated, subdued by the long flight from New York the day before. Terrified of being up there in the clouds she had not altogether forgiven Katherine for insisting that she accompany her to England. ‘I hope ye don’t regret what ye’re doing,’ she muttered as the two of them came to the kerb edge. ‘Cyrus was right… old wounds will never heal if ye insist on probing them.’
All she got for her trouble was a gentle prod from Katherine’s brass-handled walking stick. ‘Stop moaning, my dear. You moaned on the plane, then grumbled all evening through dinner, and here you are on a morning filled with sunshine, and I’m blessed if you’re still not moaning.’
While Maureen sulked, the chauffeur opened wide the door and waited for his elderly passenger to embark. As he leaned out to assist, he was treated to a sharp rebuke: ‘I am quite capable, thank you!’
Maureen gave the driver a smile. ‘Her bark is worse than her bite,’ she consoled with a wink.
Katherine’s voice sailed from the interior of the car. ‘Stop loitering out there. Give the driver the address and look sharp. Every minute is precious.’
Rummaging in her handbag, Maureen found the piece of paper with the address written on. ‘Heath and Reach,’ she remarked, peering at the address through narrowed eyes. ‘D’ye know it?’
The driver was a small man, with white hair and grey rubbery skin. He screwed his face into a painful grimace, then rubbed his chin with the tips of his fingers. He suggested, ‘Could I take a look?’ indicating the paper in Maureen’s possession.
When Maureen stretched out her hand he took the paper and perused it with deliberation. ‘Heath and Reach, Bedfordshire.’ The grimace relaxed. ‘I’ve a good idea,’ he said. ‘If you’ll climb in, I’ll take a minute to check the map.’ He cupped his fingers beneath her elbow and this time his offer of help was graciously accepted.
A few minutes later with the two passengers comfortable in the rear and the driver up front, the car was still stationary. Impatient to be on her way, Katherine slid back the glass partition, demanding in a shrill voice, ‘Are we going to sit here all day?’
Visibly startled, he hurriedly folded his map. ‘Just checking, ma’am,’ he stuttered. ‘We’re on our way.’ Settling into his seat he released the handbrake, thrust the car into gear and eased it forward. The traffic had built up all morning and now there was hardly room to manoeuvre. ‘London traffic gets worse,’ he complained, making conversation.
Suddenly there was a gap in the flow of traffic. Shooting forward he slotted in between a bus and a taxi-cab. ‘All right back there?’ he enquired dutifully, at the same time observing Katherine through the mirror. He had been a driver for many years, pandering to the rich and famous, bowing and scraping to those who were no better than himself. He searched the old lady’s face; a face of faded beauty, with its full mouth, high cheekbones and expressive brown eyes. It was easy to see that she was an aristocrat, used to money, used to having her own way.
Suddenly Katherine caught him looking at her. For a riveting moment their eyes met. Embarrassed, he looked away, returning to his thoughts, wondering about her. She was American. Staying at one of the most expensive hotels. That was nothing new to him. Most Americans seemed to be wealthy, at least the ones he drove about. What! The hire of this car and himself for a day was more than he earned in a month.
His present passengers were a puzzle to him. It was obvious that the Irish woman was beholden to the other, maybe a companion, a friend. No. More than a friend, he reasoned. He put his foot down. The car surged forward in a rush of power. Settling now, he let it cruise along at seventy. Glancing into the mirror he saw how his two passengers were still deep in conversation. The Irish one was leaning forward, seeming to argue a point. His gaze fell on the older one. A haughty face, but kind. He sensed the urgency of her journey and, a moment ago when she had glanced at him, he felt the sadness behind those pretty brown eyes. His anger melted. ‘Rich or poor, we all have our troubles,’ he murmured compassionately. Though with all his experience of mankind, he would never have guessed Katherine’s troubles, not in a million years.
It was almost five o’clock when Liz came into the house. ‘I’m home!’ she called. Throwing off her outdoor clothes she went straight into the kitchen. It was tidy enough, but there was no sign of the girls. She ran upstairs and tapped on Ginny’s bedroom door.
No answer.
‘Ginny? Lianne? Are you in there?’
Still no answer.
Opening the door Liz looked inside. The room was empty and there was no sign that anyone had been home yet. ‘Okay,’ she conceded, ‘as long as you’re home before your father.’ She didn’t want another row. On the other hand neither did she want the girls thinking they could do exactly as they pleased.
Suppressing the niggle of anger she went to the bathroom. Here she splashed her face and washed her hands and returned downstairs to the kitchen, where she washed four sizeable pork chops, laid them in the casserole, and covered them with sliced vegetables and a sauce. That done she replaced the lid and put the dish in the oven, switching it to cook at a moderate heat.
Three times she went to the front door, hoping to see the girls on their way home. Each time she was disappointed. Going into the lounge she switched on the television. ‘That’s all I need,’ she groaned, tuning into a lecture by Margaret Thatcher on the importance of family unity. Even so, she could see the irony of it. Glancing at the mantelpiece clock she noticed it was nearly five thirty. She sighed. Jack would be home any minute, and there was still no sign of the girls. She looked out of the window and her anxiety increased. The daylight was already beginning to fade, and it would soon be dark.
She toyed with the idea of going out after them. She even put on her coat, then took it off again. I might go one way and they could be coming home another, she reasoned. God knows what Jack would think if he got home to find the house empty.
‘If you don’t want to, I’ll understand.’ Dave Martin leaned against the wall in the caretaker’s room. Some three years older than Lianne, he was tall, of medium build and darkly attractive. With his mop of black hair, cocoa-coloured eyes, easy smile and a soft friendly voice, he drew girls like a magnet. Dave Martin was intelligent and compassionate, a young man with ambition, and a deep liking for Lianne Lucas. ‘You shouldn’t let your sister talk you into doing things you don’t want to.’ He made no move. Instead he remained by the door, leaning on the wall and regarding Lianne with some concern. ‘She did talk you into it, didn’t she?’
Lianne was seated on a chair by the window. The only light in the room was from a small lamp standing on the tool cupboard. Her face was in shadow as she looked up. ‘I have a mind of my own,’ she murmured. ‘If I didn’t want us to do it, I wouldn’t be here.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ He made no attempt to close the door.
‘Are you calling me a liar?’
‘I don’t want to fight with you, Lianne.’
‘Do you want to make love to me?’ Her voice came in a whisper. He was right. She was frightened. Trembling all over.
He closed the door before answering softly, ‘Ever since I first saw you, I’ve wanted nothing else.’
In the half-light, with his dark eyes plucking her out, she could hardly breathe. ‘Will it hurt?’
‘I won’t let it.’
The silence was like a wall between them. Lianne’s fear was marbled with excitement. His only fear was that she might turn him away. But he would accept that. He had never taken a girl against her will, and never would.
The tap on the door startled them both. It was Ginny. ‘If you’re going to do it, you’d best get a move on. Old Tom might be back any minute.’
Lianne’s fear was tenfold. ‘I’m not sure,’ she murmured, her green eyes raised upwards, appealing to him, to them both. ‘What if we
get caught?’
At that moment Dave stepped forward. Stooping before her, he took her two hands into his. ‘I don’t want you to be frightened,’ he murmured. His soft smile was reassuring. ‘If you’re that worried, maybe we should do it another time… in another place.’ Glancing round he wrinkled his nose. ‘If you mean to lose your virginity, it shouldn’t be in a stinking rat-trap like this.’
‘I really like you, Dave.’ She felt like a child, when she so longed to be a woman.
Leaning forward and keeping her small hands in his, he bent his head and covered her mouth with his own. It was a wonderful kiss, a long and passionate declaration of his deeper feelings for her. As long as that wonderful kiss lasted, Lianne’s heart was like a fluttering bird in the middle of her chest, entrapped, desperate to be free. Like her. Like emotion she had never experienced. ‘We’ll do it when you feel it’s right,’ he whispered drawing away. ‘And remember this…’ He gently moved his head from side to side, his dark eyes enveloping her. ‘I would never hurt you.’
Before she could get her breath, he was gone, leaving her hands feeling cold and her heart empty. ‘I couldn’t do it,’ she told Ginny. Her voice broke. ‘I just couldn’t do it.’
Ginny would not be consoled. ‘You let me down,’ she hissed. ‘I set it up, and you turned coward on me.’
‘Why should you care anyway?’ Lianne stood up, anger taking the place of regret.
‘Because I wanted to watch, that’s why.’
Brushing past her, Lianne gave her a stabbing look. ‘Old Tom’s turned you into a pervert,’ she growled. ‘Somebody should set fire to this place.’
Ginny’s laughter echoed across the school playground. As suddenly as it started it stopped. Grabbing Lianne by the shoulders, she warned, ‘You want to be careful what you say. He could be listening right now. Anybody could be listening. If this place was ever to burn accidentally, you might be the one to get the blame, and you wouldn’t want that now, would you?’
‘Why do you enjoy frightening me?’
‘Because you’re like them… always worried, always fearing the worst. If I’m bad, it’s because you make me bad… you and them.’
‘I’m not worried now, I’m just sorry.’ The ghost of a smile washed over her features. ‘He’s very handsome, isn’t he?’
‘Hmm. And I’ll bet he does it really well.’ Draping one arm round her younger sister’s shoulder, Ginny propelled her into the cold night air. ‘This is just a setback,’ she promised. ‘Next time we’ll find somewhere safer for you and Dave. All right?’
‘All right.’
‘And you won’t keep him waiting too long, will you?’
‘No.’ The cold air struck her flushed face. It was a welcome relief from being closeted in that awful smelly room. There was something very disturbing about Old Tom’s work-place.
‘I like him. He’s nice.’ In fact he was more than nice, she thought fondly. He had strong hands, and warm loving eyes that seemed to smile from deep inside. She wished now she hadn’t been so frightened. ‘No, Ginny, I won’t keep him waiting too long.’ She couldn’t get him out of her mind.
‘Good girl!’ There was a hug by way of reward, and then the instruction, ‘We’d better get a move on. I expect they’re wondering where we are.’ Without waiting for her sister, Ginny ran on. It was only a moment before Lianne caught up. ‘Don’t tell them where we’ve been,’ she pleaded breathlessly.
‘As if I would.’ A short burst of laughter, then only the sound of their feet hitting the sloshy snow.
It was a long time before they spoke again. But in between their minds were locked into the same thought. Dave Martin. And how long it would be before Lianne got up the courage to let him take her virginity.
It was Maureen who spotted them from the car window. ‘Shall I ask those girls where Leighton Road is?’ she suggested, tapping Katherine on the knee. ‘They look like they live round here.’
Peering out of the window on Maureen’s side, Katherine’s attention was drawn to where Ginny and Lianne were waiting for the car to pass before crossing the road. At once, she leaned forward and banged on the glass partition. When it slid back, she said, ‘Stop the car. We’ve been going round in circles long enough. Those two girls will put us right.’ She pointed to them. ‘Quickly, man, before they’re gone.’
In a minute the car was brought to a halt and the driver was making his way towards Ginny and Lianne. ‘Look!’ Lianne followed his progress. ‘He’s coming to speak to us.’
Ginny’s gaze was on the car. One day she would have a limousine like that, and a chauffeur to drive her about.
As he approached, the toes of his heavy shoes scooped the sloppy snow like great shovels. ‘We’re lost,’ he said, taking off his cap. ‘I’m looking for Leighton Road.’
It was Ginny who answered. ‘You’re miles away,’ she said, indicating behind him. ‘Go back to the main road, turn left and carry straight on for about three miles. Leighton Road is right opposite a big garage. You can’t miss it.’
‘Thank you very much.’
‘You’re welcome.’
Replacing his cap he gave a polite little nod and returned to his precious car.
Lianne was dumbfounded. ‘Why did you send him back in that direction?’
The two of them strolled on, taking their time now, knowing they were in trouble whether they ran or walked.
‘Because he’s made us late with his silly questions, and because you’ve already put me in a bad mood.’
‘But you’ve sent him the wrong way!’
‘Serves him right for making us late.’
Lianne couldn’t help but giggle. ‘The poor man will be going round in circles looking for a garage that doesn’t exist. I don’t know what he’ll think when he eventually finds Leighton Road and realises he was standing right next to it.’
‘He’ll think we’re a pair of shits.’
‘I’m not!’ Playfully punching Ginny on the arm, she accused indignantly, ‘It was you who told him a pack of lies.’
‘You could have stopped me.’
‘I wouldn’t dare.’ Something occurred to her then. ‘Why do you think he was looking for our street? I mean, what would somebody like that be doing round here?’
Ginny wasn’t listening. ‘Did you see the car?’ she asked dreamily. ‘One day I’ll have a car just like that.’
‘Give over! It must have cost a fortune.’
‘The best things in life don’t come cheap.’
‘Where would you get that kind of money?’
‘I’ll get it, don’t worry.’ Some inner instinct pushed the words out. ‘I was always meant to be rich.’
Lianne’s heart fell. She had visions of Ginny stepping out in furs and jewels, laughing wickedly as she drove off in her limousine.
Unbearable loneliness swamped her. Ginny was the devil. But, for reasons she might never understand, she loved her. Loved her more than anyone else on this earth. ‘If ever you do get rich, you won’t want me, will you?’ she murmured. No. Ginny wouldn’t want her then. She would never want her again. The loneliness was like a crushing weight inside her.
Unwilling or unable to put Lianne’s mind at rest, Ginny told her, ‘I do intend to be rich. Don’t ever doubt that. I’ll have more money than I know what to do with.’
Lianne followed her, sulking but fascinated. ‘But where will you get so much money?’
‘I might steal it.’ Quickening her steps she momentarily left Lianne behind, her voice rising excitedly as she mused aloud, ‘I might even marry a wealthy man.’ She glanced at her sister. In the glow from the street lamp her eyes glittered like wet coal. ‘Go on! Say it, bugger you. You don’t believe I could do it.’
‘’Course I do.’ Lianne had no qualms where this beautiful young woman was concerned. A great sadness came over her as she softly answered, ‘I know you can do anything you like.’
‘So can you if you set your mind to it,’ Ginny remarked sharply. She
was still angry deep down because she had been cheated out of a peep show.
‘No, I can’t. I’m not like you.’
Ginny pushed her in through the gate. ‘If you’re saying I’m the one with the good looks and the guts, and you’re the plain one who’s also a coward, then you’re absolutely right.’
Her cruelty knew no bounds.
But then she laughed and joked, and made Lianne forget. As she always did.
Not surprisingly, it was Lianne who took the blame for being late home. ‘I spilled a pot of glue in the art room, and had to stay behind to clean it up,’ she lied. ‘Ginny stayed to help me.’
Jack didn’t know whether to believe her or not. Swinging Lianne round he snatched at the hem of her skirt. ‘And did you spill a can of oil while you were at it?’ he demanded, glaring from one to the other.
Lianne feigned ignorance. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
He yanked his fist upwards and her skirt with it. ‘I mean this!’ he yelled. ‘There’s oil all over your skirt.’
Lianne swallowed hard. The dark glutinous stain must have come from Old Tom’s work-bench. ‘I don’t know where that came from,’ she said lamely.
Jack dropped the hem of her skirt. Ginny had been smirking in the background. Infuriated, he caught hold of them both and forcefully drew them forward. In a voice that was low and shaking, he told them, ‘In future, when your mother tells you to come straight home from school, you’re to do just that. Do you understand? Not two hours later, looking the worse for wear, and with your hem covered in oil.’ Addressing the next remarks to Lianne, he appealed to her good sense. ‘When I came in ten minutes ago your mother was sick with worry. The streets aren’t safe these dark nights, and there’s talk of a stranger lurking about.’
Indignant, Ginny interrupted, ‘Anybody would think we don’t know how to take care of ourselves.’
‘Don’t get clever with me. I’ve had a hard day. Two of the big ovens packed up, and half the day’s work was burned to a crisp. When I get home I find your mother in a rage and you two out, God knows where.’ Releasing them now, he stretched out both hands and passed them over his face, as if to erase the weariness.
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