Abandoned Child

by Neale, Kitty

  Penny tried not to show her irritation. Maureen was a wonderful landlady, kind, tolerant, fun to be with – but her attitude to everything to do with the kitchen drove her mad. Somehow she had to get the present into the flat before Maureen lost it completely and gave it away to the next passer-by.

  On the other side of the street she spotted a familiar figure and was suddenly really glad to see him. ‘Hi there!’ she called, waving, not trusting Maureen to be left alone with the box. ‘Lovely day, isn’t it?’ Well, Penny thought, the sun’s almost shining, so that’s not a total lie.

  ‘Out enjoying the fine weather?’ asked John, making his way to their front door. ‘How are you? Hello, I’m John,’ he went on, turning to Maureen, who was standing up, grinding out her stub under her shiny stiletto. ‘Are you a friend of Penny’s?’

  ‘Yes, and I’m her landlady,’ said Maureen, smiling and smoothing down her jacket, reacting as she always did to an attractive man. ‘Pleased to meet you. How very fortunate. I don’t suppose we could ask you for some help?’

  ‘Maureen!’ exclaimed Penny. Honestly, the woman was too much, she’d only known him for thirty seconds and she was asking for favours already.

  John didn’t seem to mind. ‘Having trouble with the box?’ he said. ‘What’s inside? Oh, I see what you mean, they’re heavy. Nothing I can’t manage though.’

  ‘Do you get to do much lifting out taking photographs?’ Penny asked, not convinced he’d be able to lift it on his own. She thought he’d seemed genuinely kind before, and now she realised she was right.

  ‘I haven’t spent my whole life taking pictures,’ he grinned. ‘Remember my old man worked on a stall? I often helped him out. He sold china, huge tea sets sometimes, and you had to be able to lift those and yet not break anything. I tell you, if you can do that, then you can lift just about anything. This’ll be a doddle. Leave it to me.’

  ‘You’re a knight in shining armour and no mistake,’ beamed Maureen, opening the door and hurrying up the stairs to undo the top lock. John followed with the box, not even out of breath. ‘In here, stick it on the table; that’ll do until we work out where to put it. Penny, you never said you had a friend like this. Can we get you a cup of tea?’

  Tea, thought Penny, she doesn’t even know if we’ve got any milk left. She is the limit.

  ‘Better not,’ said John, patting his camera case. ‘I’ve got to be off, got an assignment to hand in. I shan’t even have time to speak to Jimmy beforehand. Nice to meet you,’ and he shook Maureen’s hand, while she batted her eyelashes, ‘and good to see you again, Penny.’ He smiled broadly. ‘Now I know where you live, maybe I’ll knock on your door next time I’m in town.’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Penny, seeing him out, getting him safely away from Maureen as fast as she could.

  ‘Oooh, you dark horse!’ exclaimed Maureen as soon as she came back into the kitchen. ‘Who was that? What a very nice young man. You kept him quiet.’

  ‘Nothing to keep quiet about,’ said Penny shortly. ‘He’s a friend of Jimmy’s. I met him that day he gave us the oranges. Good of him to help us when he hardly knows me.’

  ‘Extremely good timing,’ Maureen agreed. ‘Don’t suppose we have time for a cuppa, come to think of it. We’d best get back. But he reminds me of someone. Who can it be? Someone off the telly?’

  ‘No idea,’ said Penny, locking the door behind them, already with half a mind on what she could do with the new gadget.

  ‘How does Jimmy know him?’ Maureen persisted. God, she was impossible when a new man came on the scene.

  Why don’t you bloody ask him yourself, Penny wanted to snap but didn’t. ‘From the market down in Battersea, I think,’ she said. ‘Or something like that.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Maureen. ‘Would I have known him from there? I grew up round there, you know. But no,’ she shook her head, ‘got to be honest, he’s much younger than me. He’d have been a kid when I left to pursue my career in entertainment. And, as you know, they won’t have me back, so that can’t be it. Still,’ she went on, leading the way out into the weak sunshine, ‘he can drop round any time he likes. You make sure to tell him so.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Penny, thinking that even though he was so striking-looking and interesting, she’d do no such thing.

  ‘So what’s it like to be back?’ Mark asked Michelle. ‘Are you glad to see us? How are you finding the dancing after taking a break?’

  ‘Left me breathless the first couple of nights,’ she admitted as they made their way towards Bar Italia. ‘You forget what hard work it is, and having to smile all the time. Makes your face ache. Especially after being bashed in the face.’ She grinned up at him, showing her slightly crooked front teeth. ‘But of course I’m glad to be back. I missed you all. My sisters were fine about me being home for a bit and they looked after me brilliantly but we got nothing in common. One’s just got a job down a bookies on the Roman Road and you’d think she’d won on the Premium Bonds. I tried to be excited for her but it don’t compare. Give me the bright lights any time.’

  ‘This is where you belong,’ Mark agreed, holding open the door for her. ‘Bet they don’t serve coffee like this either.’

  ‘This is the best,’ Michelle agreed, squeezing in behind a table. ‘This is the life. Now all I need is an invitation or two to the latest restaurants and I shall be as good as new. Have any good ones opened since I was away?’

  Mark raised his eyebrows. ‘And how are you going to pay for those? No, don’t say it. Michelle, I don’t want to sound like your granny but please, watch out. Have a care for yourself. I don’t know about you but I found the whole thing totally harrowing and I don’t want to go through it again. You wouldn’t do that to me, would you? Not to your old friend?’

  ‘I was joking,’ she protested, waving happily at a waiter. ‘The usual, please. No, of course I’ll be careful. I know how you all looked after me and covered for me and I’m truly grateful. So of course I was only joking.’

  Mark looked at her and had a horrible suspicion that she wasn’t.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Juliet caught up with Maureen at the end of a morning dance class. For once she hadn’t rushed off to shower as soon as the routines had finished, and her famous blonde hair was plastered to her forehead. ‘Can I have a word?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘Of course,’ said Maureen, gathering her things together – sweatshirt, cassettes, water bottle. ‘Spit it out.’

  ‘Could we speak in private?’ Juliet asked, and Maureen looked up sharply. ‘I wouldn’t ask but it’s important.’

  ‘Come with me, then,’ said Maureen, and led the way out of the studio, down the stairs and along the dank alley, which smelled even worse now that the weather was turning warmer. Juliet followed, trying to avoid brushing her big bag against the crumbling walls. When they reached the street they stopped.

  ‘I need to make a phone call,’ said Juliet. ‘I don’t want to use the pay phone at the club because you might as well shout your business from Speaker’s Corner. And if I try to use a phone box round here I get pestered by every pervert in the area. I was wondering if I could use yours. I’ll pay you.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that,’ protested Maureen. ‘I trust you. Not planning on an hour to New Zealand, are you? Then it’ll be fine.’ She noted the girl hadn’t said what it was about but if it was what she thought it was, then Maureen wasn’t going to pry.‘Shall I give you my keys? You can lock up after you’ve done and then give them me back this evening. I’m off to Oxford Street to treat meself to some more leotards. This one’s gone all stretchy.’

  ‘Oh, I know, what did we do before Lycra?’ Juliet smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. ‘That’s great, I really appreciate it. I won’t take long.’ She took the keys and headed off, and Maureen thought the girl’s usually immaculate posture had collapsed. In fact, she looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. Perhaps she did.

  Maureen wondered for the hundred
th time which was worse: for your family to throw you out and cut all contact, or to be stuck in one that was nothing but trouble, as Juliet seemed to be. True, she’d been lucky with Lorna who, though quiet, didn’t let anyone tell her what to think, and there was the occasional call or letter from Pete back in Battersea. As for the rest, she considered the club her family now. It worked both ways. They’d cut her off and she didn’t intend to go crawling back. Funny, she thought, as she threaded her way along the side roads to Carnaby Street towards Oxford Circus. Here am I, a successful businesswoman, running my own dance school. Right little entrepreneur, I am. Just what they want in Thatcher’s Britain. You’d have thought they’d be proud. Well, sod them. My family look down at the people at the club for having loose morals and yet they’ve all got more kindness in their little fingers than my lot put together. That’s if you take Prescott out of the equation, anyway.

  Maureen did a double-take as she approached the junction with Carnaby Street. There in the window of a small wine bar was a very familiar head of curls. How could that be? The girl had only just been in her class and would have had to sprint to get here, let alone get changed. Surely it couldn’t be her.

  Then the figure in the window turned slightly, saying something to her companion and laughing, tossing her head and raising her full wine glass. It was her all right. And that didn’t look like fruit juice in the glass either.

  Michelle, Michelle, what are you doing? she thought. The girl was meant to be performing tonight and the number one rule, even above not dating punters, was that you never drank beforehand. The dancers could drink what they liked afterwards, as long as they were all right the next day, but never, ever beforehand. Yet here she was, bold as brass, knocking back the wine and it was barely midday. And it looked as if they’d got a bottle in.

  After what had happened, after all the warnings and the consequences of ignoring them, Maureen was flabbergasted. Had the girl no sense of self-preservation? Was she completely stupid? Then she realised that she’d come to a dead halt in the middle of the pavement and that she was causing an obstruction. ‘Mind what you’re bleedin’ doing,’ somebody muttered as they pushed past.

  ‘Mind yourself,’ Maureen snapped back, but moved so she was leaning against the wall of the nearest building. What was she to do? She couldn’t exactly barge into the bar and march the girl out. Michelle was over eighteen and legally entitled to drink and meet who she liked. She wasn’t her mother. She just didn’t want the girl to mess up royally, and so soon.

  Sighing, she decided there wasn’t much she could do short of catching her quietly later and checking that she was all right and at least safe to go on stage without falling flat on her face. Meanwhile, she had to get those leotards. Even if Stuart had said she was too scrawny she could at least look her best in front of her students.

  ‘Stupid bleedin’ fool,’ Maureen muttered, and realised she’d said it aloud when several office girls, all bouffant hair and shoulder pads, turned to glare.

  Michelle was wandering along in a hazy glow, still a little merry from the lunchtime wine. She’d known it was a bad idea to have that second bottle but somehow she felt powerless to resist. It had led to a lovely afternoon, tucked away in a little hotel room off Regent Street. Now she could barely be bothered to put one foot in front of the other, but was confident that she’d snap out of it once she’d changed into her costume. It would all come back to her. Dancing the routines was like riding a bike.

  ‘Oh no you don’t,’ said Maureen, and grabbed her as she walked past the office door. ‘Dave’s out on business, which you should be bloody glad about, so just you come in here, young lady.’

  Stumbling a bit, Michelle did as she was told, perching stubbornly on the arm of the one comfy chair. ‘I haven’t done …’ she began, but it was pointless.

  ‘I saw you,’ said Maureen. ‘I was there, this lunchtime. You must be the fastest dancer on two legs, I don’t know how you got to that bar so quick after class, but it was definitely you and you were drinking wine. Not that anyone would have to be Sherlock Holmes to tell that,’ she added, as the girl swayed a little.

  ‘So what if I was?’ demanded Michelle, all her old attitude back now. ‘It’s a free country. And, before you ask, no, I wasn’t meeting a punter. So there’s no problem.’

  ‘There’s a problem if you go on stage pissed,’ said Maureen. ‘Look at you, you can barely sit up straight. How the hell are you going to dance? You’ll be falling over your own feet. You’ll be lucky if you don’t take the others down with you. You can’t go on like that.’

  ‘I’ll be fine!’ Michelle assured her, waving her arm and knocking a pile of papers off the desk. ‘Whoops. Sorry.’

  ‘Give me strength.’ Maureen closed her eyes. ‘I’m going to have to call back Fifi’s idiot of a cousin. She’s daft as a brush but at least she never fell over. I wonder if I can get hold of her for tonight.’

  ‘Really?’ asked Michelle. ‘I heard about her. The rest of them can’t stand her. Don’t do that. I’ll be fine. It’s ages away yet.’

  ‘Michelle, listen to me,’ said Maureen with exaggerated patience. ‘You are pissed out of your tiny brain. And it must be very, very tiny because only a few months ago we sat in this very building and you were warned about how you were carrying on. Now I know you didn’t deserve what happened after that but at least I thought you’d take the time to come to your senses. What’s gone wrong? And so soon?’

  Michelle looked up, still swaying slightly, and her defiance melted away. ‘I met this lovely man,’ she said.

  Maureen groaned.

  ‘No, no,’ the girl went on. ‘He really is. And he’s not even that old. Well, much older than me, obviously, but not like those Italian bastards. He treats me very, very nicely. Now I know it’s not for ever but really, you got to take your chances when you’re young. He might be just a little bit married …’

  ‘You don’t say,’ said Maureen.

  ‘… but it doesn’t matter, as he’s only here for a short while. In the meantime we are going to have ever such a lot of fun.’ Michelle beamed. ‘He’s just the nicest person. You’d love him, yes, you would.’

  ‘Does he know you were meant to be dancing tonight?’ Maureen asked. ‘And he still let you get pissed and then come here? Because if he did, no, I don’t think I would love him. I would have his guts for garters.’

  ‘I might not have told him,’ admitted Michelle. ‘I might have said I wasn’t on until tomorrow. But I’ll be fine. Seriously, I will.’ She fell off the arm of the chair and landed on the floor.

  ‘Get up, go home, get out of my sight,’ sighed Maureen, hauling the girl to her unsteady feet. ‘Come back sober tomorrow and we’ll say no more about it. Do this again and you’re out, end of. Do you get it?’

  ‘I will,’ said Michelle solemnly. ‘Thank you, Maureen. You’re a star.’

  ‘I’m too good to you, that’s for certain,’ said Maureen, guiding her towards the door. ‘On your way.’ As Michelle was on her way out, Juliet hurried in, looking from right to left, clearly relieved to see Maureen.

  ‘Here are your keys,’ she said. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’

  ‘Juliet, you look like shit,’ said Maureen, shutting the door of the office once more. ‘Are you sure you want to go on tonight? I’ll be honest, it’ll be simpler if you don’t, as Michelle won’t be back until tomorrow and that leaves us with an uneven number. So you’d be doing me a favour if you was to pull out.’

  ‘Would I really?’ Juliet asked, clearly tempted. ‘Don’t suppose I could bum a cigarette before deciding?’

  ‘No problem,’ said Maureen, throwing her bag across the room. ‘Help yourself. You can pay me back when you owe me a full packet – and the way you’re going that won’t be long. Want to talk about it?’

  Juliet lit up and sighed with pleasure. ‘That’s the best thing all day. Looks like I’m back on the tobacco again. Thanks but no thanks, Maureen, because if I start talking
I won’t be able to stop and somehow I’ve got to keep it together a while longer.’ She looked up. ‘What was up with Michelle?’

  ‘You don’t want to know,’ said Maureen. ‘Take it up with her tomorrow. You won’t get no sense out of her this evening. She’s back on the path to self-destruction and loving every minute of it.’

  ‘You know what,’ said Juliet, ‘I really don’t want to know. Not right now. I’ve got enough to cope with, I can’t take her on as well. She’ll have to manage by herself for a bit. Sorry if that dumps you in it. But there it is.’

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Penny assumed when the doorbell rang that it was Maureen forgetting her keys. She often wondered how her landlady had managed before she’d arrived, as it happened pretty often. So she was prepared to have a bit of a go as she opened the door. Then she looked up into the warm eyes of John and found herself at a loss for words.

  ‘Thought I’d drop by to see how your new microwave’s working,’ he said. ‘Didn’t damage it getting it upstairs, did I?’ He was clearly waiting for an invitation.

  Penny decided she might as well ask him in. ‘Come on up and I’ll make you a cup of tea in it,’ she said.

  ‘Really?’ He didn’t look too happy.

  She shook her head. ‘You’re all right, that was a joke. Well, we can if you like. But I can also do you the normal sort.’

  ‘Normal, please,’ he said, following her as she led the way upstairs to the flat.

  Penny wasn’t sure what to make of this, being alone in the flat with John. She made herself look busy, boiling the kettle and finding the clean mugs – why did one seem to have what looked like Juliet’s lipstick on it? – and quickly checking that there was milk and Maureen hadn’t used it all on the sly.

  ‘Are you in London about another assignment?’ she said. ‘More bird pictures?’