by Neale, Kitty
Groaning, Penny dragged herself through her bedroom door and forced herself to go down to watch the television with them. It was the weather forecast. Michael Fish was saying that someone had asked if a hurricane was on the way. ‘Don’t worry, there isn’t,’ he reassured them from the small screen.
She thought that at least that would make a change from the daily routine of shop, home, shop, home, but reckoned she had better say nothing, as Lorna looked alarmed.
‘I don’t like the sound of that,’ she said.
‘Well, it’s hardly likely,’ Robert replied, putting down the paper. ‘We simply don’t get that kind of weather here. Just as well – people don’t want to buy or rent houses without roofs.’ He tried to raise a smile. ‘Put it out of your head, there’s nothing to be concerned about.’
So that was that, thought Penny, not even a bit of wind to liven things up.
Penny slept badly, imagining trees crashing down and houses losing their roofs, all the while mixed up with Michael Fish saying ‘don’t worry’ and Robert telling her there was nothing to be concerned about. She tossed and turned, certain that she could hear loud noises and the screech of high winds, but waking just enough to tell herself not to be so stupid. Finally as dawn broke she woke up properly and ran to the window, just to reassure herself that it had all been a nightmare.
It hadn’t.
Where the shed should have stood was an empty space. Some of its contents had fallen into the flowerbeds, which were also strewn with branches and tiles.
Neighbouring houses had broken windows. Penny wondered what else was wrong and realised there was no streetlight. She turned to switch on her bedside lamp but nothing happened. So there must be a power cut.
From below came a wail and she hurried downstairs to find Lorna pointing at the window of the back door, or where the window had been. It was a Victorian house and the back door had had a lovely coloured glass panel in it of which Lorna was very proud. Now most of it lay shattered on the hall floor, along with half a roof tile.
‘My lovely window!’ Lorna was repeating.
Robert appeared from the kitchen and gave her a hug. ‘We’ll get it replaced,’ he soothed her. ‘Least of our worries. And we’ll sort the garden out, it won’t be too bad. But right now what we need is a cup of tea and the kettle isn’t working.’
‘What about the camping stove?’ suggested Penny. ‘Won’t that do? Or was it in the shed?’
‘Oh no,’ Lorna began again, but Robert shook his head.
‘Good idea, and we’d moved it to the basement. I’ll grab a torch and find it.’ He shortly after reappeared with the stove and the spare gas canister. ‘We can find something to cook on this, can’t we?’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Lorna, beginning to revive. ‘We’ll have baked beans and cans of soup until the power is back on.’
‘We could build a bonfire with all those branches and cook on that,’ Penny said, staring out at the devastation. ‘It’d help clear the place up.’
‘Maybe,’ said Lorna, smiling faintly as she went to the kitchen to find the tea bags. She switched on the small transistor radio which ran from a battery, and gradually they pieced together the extent of the damage the high winds had done, bringing down trees across the south of the country, causing accidents, destroying property. People had died. The local station warned that nobody should venture out unless in dire emergency, and Penny perked up – opening the corner shop definitely wasn’t one of those and she had no wish to serve the grumpy customers by candlelight.
Robert was less cheerful. ‘I was meant to be going to Maidstone and Canterbury today but I can’t see how I’d get there if so many roads are blocked.’
‘Don’t you even think about trying it,’ Lorna warned him. ‘We should leave the roads clear so the police and fire service can use them. I know you think every meeting is crucial and you’ll be letting people down if you don’t turn up but they won’t want to come out either. And even if you do, you can’t rely on the offices having light when you get there, and we don’t know how many phone lines are down. You stay where you are.’
So the three of them drank their tea, ate cold cereal, and eventually decided to go out to see what had happened in the immediate area. They soon found they were lucky; a broken window, lost shed and wrecked garden counted for nothing against a poor couple who had lost the side of their house. Further along, the park had had many of its old trees uprooted and they lay fallen like dominoes, their vast trunks having been thrown into the air as if they were matchsticks. Penny was lost for words. This was terrible – and yet it sent a shiver of excitement through her. To think that something so unexpected could happen, so powerful, again made her feel as if she wanted to take on the world. And if life could be snuffed out so quickly by a random falling tree, it was stupid not to seize the day and live each moment to the full.
When things were slowly getting back to normal, Robert began to discover just how much of his business had been damaged. Property across Kent had been chewed up and spat out by the storm, old houses losing roof tiles, new developments brought to a standstill. Houses he was trying to sell or let would need weeks, if not months of repairs, and just finding anyone to do the work was proving impossible. In desperation he rang Denis, who had long since retired, who said he didn’t want to get back into the swing of things full time but he could give him three days a week. ‘Just temporary, mind,’ Denis said. ‘Seeing as it’s you. I got very fond memories of your old boss so I’ll help where I can but don’t expect me to go up no high ladders no more.’
Robert sighed and put down the phone. He was fully insured and was fairly sure everything would be all right in the end but it would be touch and go for a while. The bank would expect to be paid, hurricane or no hurricane, and somehow he’d have to find a way. He knew of several rival firms who were happily putting homeless families into substandard properties and charging them a fortune, but he didn’t feel inclined to join them. Making a killing out of other people’s desperation was not his way. He’d have to talk to Lorna.
Later that evening, when Penny could be heard playing her endless Madonna records and dancing around to them, Robert forced himself to raise the subject. He couldn’t bear to worry Lorna but she had a right to know and if they had to tighten their belts, then they’d do it together. He tried to keep it simple and short and not to exaggerate, but Lorna could see at once how anxious he was. She’d been in and around the business for long enough to learn exactly how it worked and knew that he would never have spoken unless it was serious. She took a deep breath and asked him to go through the figures, so that she could see for herself what the future might be like. People always dismissed her as only the wife, she thought grimly, but she was no fool. She just wanted to know the facts and then she could make up her own mind. Her job was to look after Robert and Penny and she was damned if she was going to let a bit of freak weather take away everything they’d worked for all these years.
Slowly they went through every detail, Lorna asking questions and making notes as she went, as she had done back when she’d been a secretary, before she’d ever been to Spain. She didn’t want to jump the gun but it occurred to her that Robert was being too cautious. He hadn’t really looked at using savings to fend off the bank. She knew he was extremely averse to risk and had spread his investments carefully, so even when the stock market had fallen badly after the hurricane he hadn’t been hit hard. They had enough, they would be fine. And if she had to wait to fix her precious window and flowerbeds, then she would. But before she could reassure him, the living room door crashed open.
Penny stood there, visibly upset.
‘You didn’t say the hurricane would ruin you!’ she cried.
‘It won’t!’ Lorna gasped, standing up and trying to hug the girl. But Penny fended her off.
‘Look, I’ve made up my mind,’ she said. ‘I won’t be a burden on you any longer. You don’t have to look after me like this. It’s not fair on you and
now you’ve got all this to sort out on top of everything. You should have said something before. I’ll be fine. Really I will.’
‘Penny, please,’ Lorna said, wanting to keep calm, ‘you mustn’t rush into anything. And never, ever think that you are a burden. We love you and we love having you here. We’re not going to be ruined, as I was about to explain to Robert. We’ll all be fine.’
‘No, I’m going to go,’ Penny insisted. ‘I know you don’t like it but I want to go to Maureen and earn my living with her. I wanted to go anyway and now this has happened I can’t stay, I’ll hate myself.’ Penny had been terrified when she’d overheard their conversation after the record had stopped, all the more so because they sounded so reasonable. It had brought back all the times she’d caught her mother poring over endless calculations, muttering about good times coming to an end, and she remembered all too well leaving Spain, the night in the horrible damp flat, the hurried move to another place and then to above the offices. All the despair of her mother’s betrayal and Adam’s casual cruelty came rushing back. There was no way she was hanging around any longer waiting for someone else to make a decision. How could she let Robert and Lorna go short when she wasn’t even theirs? They would be better off without her.
Robert sighed. He’d glanced at Lorna’s notes and could see she was right; he had overreacted out of overwhelming concern for her and the girl. Now it looked as if that concern had frightened Penny into a hasty decision.
‘Lorna’s right, as ever,’ he said. ‘You don’t want to believe everything we were talking about. We were only looking at a worst-case scenario. In fact, we are all right. More than all right. Don’t go running away to London thinking we’re going to starve. It’s a dangerous world up there, and we want you to be safe. We’d never forgive ourselves if something happened to you. So please just forget all you heard this evening.’
Penny shook her head.
‘It’s no good,’ she said. ‘I mean, I’m glad you won’t be starving and I know you want me to be safe. But I can’t stay here. I’ve got to try to make it. Maureen will look after me, she’s got room now, and I’m old enough to take care of myself.’
‘Penny, have you any idea of what you’d be getting into?’ asked Lorna. ‘I know you call it different but it’s a glorified strip club. It’ll be filthy old men trying to grab you, ogling you. What’s so good about that? And there’ll be no escape, as Maureen lives so close to the club. What if they follow you? What if they …’ She couldn’t bring herself to say the words but her mind was flooded with images of Penny being stalked on her way home and attacked, raped, even killed.
‘I’m old enough to take care of myself,’ Penny insisted. ‘I know what you’re thinking, but you must reckon I’m daft. I know they ogle you. You think I don’t get ogled just walking down the street? At least if I’m on stage I get some protection. They can’t just grab me. And it is different, Maureen says so. This is classy entertainment. She told you all that.’
‘Penny, you’ve got no idea what men are like,’ Robert said soberly. ‘This isn’t a game. We’re trying to warn you for your own good. We love you too much to put you in danger.’
‘It’s not danger, it’s dancing!’ shouted Penny. ‘And I can’t stay here! There’s nothing happening here, the place is full of old people, it’s like dying slowly on your feet. I have to get away, live for myself, try to make it. If you don’t let me go to Maureen then I’ll try somewhere else, I’ll just run off and you won’t know where I am.’ Even as she said it she knew it sounded childish, the very opposite of what she wanted, but she couldn’t stop herself.
‘Oh God,’ groaned Lorna. She knew the girl was serious. They couldn’t keep her under lock and key. They weren’t even her legal guardians. If she was determined to go then her cousin was the best of a bad set of options. ‘Look, let me ring Maureen tomorrow, all right? I don’t want you just turning up on her doorstep. If she can look after you properly we’ll talk again, okay? But please don’t run away, not off into the middle of nowhere.’ It’d kill me, Lorna wanted to say, but knew she couldn’t.
‘All right,’ Penny said reluctantly. ‘But I really am going to go. I can’t stay here any longer.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Penny could see her huge brown eyes reflected in the window as the train pulled into Victoria Station. As she was desperate not to stand out, she began to copy the other passengers who were all buttoning coats, putting on scarves, reaching for their luggage. She’d heard about what happened to lone young girls who didn’t know what was what. That’s not going to happen to me, she thought. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. I relied on myself in that school with no help from Mum – now’s my chance to get on with real life.
Guiltily Penny pushed away the image of Lorna waving her off at Margate, lines of worry etched on her kind face. Lorna would be fine. Lorna had Robert.
The train shuddered to a stop and she lifted down her rucksack, which seemed far too small to contain everything she’d need for her new life. At least she could hoist it onto her shoulder without knocking into people. Just getting out of the carriage took ages, as everyone was carrying briefcases, bags, bulky cases. And there were so many people. Come on, Penny thought. Don’t pretend you’ve never seen a crowd before. You can do this. Just get on with it.
As she was swept along on the platform she gazed around, trying to work out where to go. Maureen had written her a letter with instructions, but it was in her back pocket and she couldn’t easily reach it with the rucksack on her shoulder. But Lorna had repeated her cousin’s directions just before they’d said their goodbyes.
‘Remember, all you have to do is take the Victoria Line to Oxford Circus,’ she’d said. ‘Then you can walk. You don’t mind a bit of a walk, do you? So much easier than trying to change trains at rush hour.’
But Penny had obviously arrived right in the middle of it, and now wished she’d timed it better. Out on the station concourse the crowds were even worse. And they weren’t like the crowds who filled the parade at Margate during the summer holidays. Those were relaxed, happy, colourful. Here, nobody made eye contact but each person stared straight ahead. With a sigh of relief she noticed the sign for the entrance to the Underground and allowed herself to be buoyed along in that direction.
Not understanding the automatic machines, she had to queue behind a line of tourists to get the right ticket.
‘Oxford Circus, please,’ she said.
‘Just arrived, have you, love?’ said the man at the counter. ‘On a bit of a break? We get a lot of you backpackers around here, you know.’
‘I live here,’ Penny assured him, feeling a little tingle of joy. ‘I’m going to study dance.’ She couldn’t quite believe she’d said it.
‘Right you are, love,’ said the man, counting out her change. ‘Well, you look after yourself and watch that bag of yours.’
She smiled back as she carefully put the coins into her purse, which she’d had the forethought to keep in her handbag, worn across her body. Nobody’s getting their hands on this, she thought, holding on to it tightly as she made her way through the barrier and down the escalator. As if the crowds weren’t bad enough, a few people were smoking, making her cough in the heavy atmosphere.
A northbound train had just pulled in and she had little choice but to be caught up in the swell of passengers fighting to find a space on it. She found herself tightly wedged in the middle of the carriage, scarcely able to move one arm to grab a pole to steady herself. No need to worry, she was heading in the right direction and all she had to do was stay upright until the stop. But this wasn’t as easy as she’d assumed. Passengers kept moving, shoving and manoeuvring for position, all the while never speaking or meeting each other’s eye. A few tutted at her rucksack. Others were pressing against her – was that man doing it deliberately? Unwilling to make a fuss but determined not to be taken advantage of, she tried to catch the look on his face. But it was impossible. Craning her
neck, she wondered if she could see his reflection. But she couldn’t do that either. ‘Filthy old sod,’ she muttered. ‘Don’t even think of trying it.’
Damn, now she had lost count of the stops. Everyone was always saying how London was such a big place – one of the very reasons Lorna hadn’t wanted her to come.
The creepy man had got off and Penny was finally able to stand next to the doors. As they opened at the next station she gasped. She’d come too far – this was King’s Cross. Taking a split-second decision she jumped off and onto the platform, hefting her rucksack with one hand and clutching her precious bag with the other. Once again she was swept along as she scanned the signs for one that would send her back the way she’d come. But something didn’t feel right – and it was nothing to do with getting off at the wrong stop. It was the atmosphere, the crowd. Then she smelt it. Smoke.
Back in Margate, Lorna was busying herself around the house, desperately trying not to think about how Penny was getting on. She and Robert had eaten their evening meal and drunk their coffee. He’d even suggested she have a little extra something with it, to steady her nerves, but she’d said no. She knew she wouldn’t calm down until Maureen rang to say the girl had arrived safely. Or, better still, if she could speak to Penny herself. If she hadn’t heard in an hour or two, she’d ring anyway just to be on the safe side.
Even though the girl was sixteen now, that still seemed terribly young to Lorna. There was a lump in her throat as she remembered how vulnerable Penny had looked, bundled in her one good coat, struggling with that horrible rucksack. If only she’d allowed her to buy a sensible, smart case. But Penny had wanted to do everything for herself, and reluctantly Lorna had agreed, taking comfort from the thought that Maureen would see that no harm came her way. Although, said a little voice in her head, Maureen wasn’t the nurturing kind. Fun, yes. Never a dull moment. But not what you’d call the motherly type.
