Another Day in Winter

by Shari Low

  Annie x

  Back then, I could see the sense in what she was saying, so I decided to carry out her suggestion. A few days later, I waited round the corner for Declan Docherty to leave his office, though once again I had to restrain myself from killing him when he emerged with his arm casually slung around another girl’s shoulders. He didn’t notice me at first, too caught up with his latest fling.

  ‘A word,’ I said as he reached me. I don’t mind saying the look of fear on his face pleased me.

  He told the girl to go on.

  As soon as she was out of earshot, I interrupted his fidgeting.

  ‘Our Flora’s pregnant,’ I told him, then watched as his face paled. Then – and God help me I wanted to kill him – he laughed.

  ‘Yeah, must be that rich git from Newton Mearns,’ he said, but I could see he was bluffing, trying to bluster his way out of it. Once again, I had to restrain myself.

  ‘The baby is yours,’ I told him through gritted teeth, ‘and the only reason I’m not pummelling your head with my bare hands is because I’m going to give you the chance to do right by her. I’ve no idea why she ever lowered her standards and got in with scum like you, but it is what it is. Go see her. Do right. Now I’m going to leave before I can no longer fight back the urge to splatter you all over this pavement.’

  I strode away, realising that I’d meant every word I’d just said. Especially the bit about the pavement. Only twice in my life had I entertained violent thoughts or instincts and both times they’d involved this man.

  Still, I hoped that there was some goodness in there somewhere that would force him to step up to his responsibilities.

  Sadly, there was none.

  A few days later, Flora appeared at our door, inconsolable once again. Declan had done a runner, taken off like the scumbag coward that he was. Worse, she’d had to find out in the most brutal way. He hadn’t turned up when he’d been supposed to pick her up. She’d stood out in the cold around the corner from Ma and Da’s house for an hour. She’d tried phoning him for days afterwards, but he didn’t pick up or return the calls.

  In the end, she’d snuck out from Da’s office when he was away meeting a client and gone to Declan’s office – the same place our Annie had worked too. She’d waited for him just as I’d done the week before, but he hadn’t come out. Instead, Flora had spotted a woman that she knew he and Annie had worked with, and shouted her over.

  She recounted every word of the conversation in painful detail to Betty and me.

  ‘You’re Annie’s sister, aren’t ya?’ the woman had said.

  ‘Yes. I’m looking for Declan,’ Flora had replied, and she’d confessed she’d got teary at that point.

  ‘Oh God,’ the woman had responded. ‘It’s you he’s knocked up. Well, hen, if I were you I’d get that seen to, because he’ll not be back. He’s taken off to his brother’s in Aberdeen. Don’t suppose we’ll be seeing him again. Fucking chancer. He hadn’t even cracked a light that he was winching you too. I believed all that shite about me being the only one.’

  At that point, Flora had buckled at the knees and the woman had been kind enough to get her a cup of tea in a nearby café until she’d recovered enough to get the bus to our house.

  ‘The thing I don’t understand,’ she’d sobbed, and the words cut me like a knife, ‘is how did he know? How did he know I was pregnant?’

  I thought about saying nothing, about letting it be, but I’ve never been one for keeping secrets and backing down from the truth. I also wanted her to know that I was on her side and that I’d only done it because I wanted to protect her.

  ‘It was me, Flora,’ I’d admitted, my heart pounding. ‘I told him.’

  2 p.m. – 4 p.m.

  Thirteen

  Shauna

  ‘I should have known it was all going too easily,’ Shauna said, as they pressed the buzzer for the third time, to no avail. The address Mrs McGinty had given them was of a very smart apartment block, overlooking a river in a beautiful grassy, tree lined street. She was fairly sure they were retirement flats.

  ‘Okay, so what shall we do? We’re not falling at the first roadblock. We’re made of sterner stuff than that,’ Lulu said, making Shauna laugh.

  ‘I’d like to wait a while and try again,’ Shauna said. ‘There’s no point in travelling back into the city centre, so why don’t we find a pub and…’

  ‘My God, it’s like we’re psychic,’ Lulu gasped, pointing two fingers at her own eyes, then swivelling them round to Shauna’s and back again.

  ‘Not psychic – I just know how to keep you on side,’ Shauna replied with a grin.

  Lulu thrust her arm through her friend’s. ‘Well played. Doing a great job.’

  They jumped back in the taxi and John, who was now heavily invested in their search, looked as disappointed as they were. ‘Not in? Bugger. I was sure we were on a roll. Right. When we find a pub, I’ll drop you two ladies off and then I’ll come and sit here and keep an eye out.’

  ‘No, John! Come into the pub with us,’ Shauna pleaded.

  ‘Absolutely not,’ he objected. ‘It’ll only make me want to have a beer and I’m not one for denying myself life’s pleasures. It’s why I’m on my fourth wife,’ he said, making them chuckle. ‘Anyway, you’re paying me for the whole day, so sitting here with a coffee and a sandwich is the least I can do.’

  ‘Stop!’ Lulu bellowed. They’d passed a row of little boutique shops and it activated her internal alarm, the one that prohibited her from passing any new and enticing shopping opportunities. In the middle of the row was a little coffee shop, the kind of upmarket bijou ones that peppered Richmond High Street.

  ‘Okay, I know what you’re going to say. You want to go shopping…’ Shauna said.

  Lulu eyed her knowingly. ‘And you’re going to say you’d rather have a smear test than join me,’ she answered, making John choke on a gulp from a bottle of Irn Bru. Her point had merit though; Shauna hated shopping with a passion.

  ‘I tell you what. I’ll be in that coffee shop there, and you go shopping and come and join me when they block your credit card,’ Shauna suggested, making Lulu’s face light up.

  ‘Excellent plan.’ She was out of the taxi and in the first shop like a hare after a tinsel bejazzled rabbit, her long mane of red corkscrew curls waving in the wind as she ran.

  As always, Lulu made a striking sight. She was wearing white jeans – yep, white in December – tucked into grey, over the knee suede boots, a long silver threaded chunky jumper, with a cream cashmere wrap and gloves. She belonged on the pages of a fashion magazine.

  Shauna really needed to up her game, she decided. Her blonde hair was partially covered by her favourite black beanie hat, and she was in her standard outfit of black skinny jeans, an ebony V-neck jumper and a waist length leather jacket and matching boots. The only items of clothing that weren’t black were the red scarf and gloves she’d pulled on in a bid to get into the Christmas spirit.

  ‘John, are you sure you don’t want to come in for a coffee?’

  ‘Nope, I’ll just grab one to take away and nip back round to that address and stake it out. Makes me feel like Colombo. Though you’re way too young to remember who that is.’

  ‘Nope, I remember just fine,’ Shauna said. ‘Many afternoons on the sofa with my granny during the school holidays.’

  ‘Glad to see she taught you well,’ he quipped, as she jumped out.

  ‘Wait here and I’ll get you that coffee,’ Shauna said, grateful that they’d met this lovely man today.

  She nipped into the coffee shop, ordered a take away latte and a carrot cake for John, and a sit-in Americano for herself. As soon as his was ready, she took it out to the car and handed it through the window.

  ‘Let’s give it an hour or so,’ she suggested. ‘If she’s not there by then, come back and we’ll come up with another plan – one which might involve setting off the fire alarms in those shops to get Lulu out,’ she said, only half jo
king.

  Back inside, she took her coffee over to a corner table, removed her scarf, hat, jacket and gloves, and pulled out her phone to text Beth. Her daughter was named after her great-grandmother. It had been a huge surprise when she’d found out after Annie passed away that her full name had been Bethany. She’d just always been Annie, her favourite woman on earth. The two of them had spoken most days and while Shauna would like to say it was for her wisdom and profound philosophies on life, the truth was that Annie delighted in being thoroughly irresponsible. She was the one who had told Shauna to punch a playground bully at school, then gave the teacher a piece of her mind when she got detention for it. She’d taught Shauna to cook, to change a plug, and how to make a decent pina colada. She’d also threatened Shauna’s first boyfriend with kneecapping if he ever hurt her or let his hand wander under her jumper. He was never seen again.

  As Shauna sat, lost in the past, another memory came flooding back. Her first date with Colm. The phone had rung just as she was about to meet him. ‘I phoned your house first,’ Annie had opened, her Scottish accent still detectable even after decades in London. ‘And Lulu tells me your dress should be tighter and show more cleavage. Dear God, you’ll be single forever.’ Her woeful tone had made her words even funnier, especially because they were coming from a woman who resolutely refused to even entertain the idea of a relationship. Widowed over twenty years earlier, she regularly declared herself an “independent woman who had no desire to wash a pair of men’s socks ever again”. She went on, ‘Now have you given Lulu the address so that if you don’t come home we can storm the building?’ she’d asked.

  ‘I have.’

  ‘Right then. Better to be safe than sorry. Have a lovely time though. I’m fairly sure it won’t be a situation that’ll end up on Crimewatch. Right, I’m off to bingo. Love you, lass.’

  ‘Love you too, Gran.’

  But Shauna’s most prevailing thought? The fact that Annie had been in her corner on every occasion, happy to challenge anyone who slighted or insulted her, especially if it was someone who should know better. Annie had never had a close relationship with Shauna’s mother, due to the fact that, in her informed opinion, Debbie was a fake, self-indulgent snob. She wasn’t wrong. At Shauna’s parents’ twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, Shauna’s offer to do the catering had been rejected by her mother, with Debbie saying they wanted to go “a bit more upmarket”. Shauna had tried not to be offended at the slight. It was just one in a long line of many, so they tended to bounce right off her mother-proof vest. However, at the party, Annie had pulled her aside when she was barely in the door.

  ‘Don’t eat the food,’ she’d hissed, gesturing to the buffet table. ‘Your mother got some fancy caterer to do it instead of you, so we’re protesting with a hunger strike.’

  Shauna had found it both touching and hilarious that Annie was, as always, outraged on her behalf and prepared to engage in battle to avenge her honour. Or at least, avoid the chicken and sweetcorn vol-au-vents.

  Shauna closed her eyes as another playback flipped to the front of her mind. The one that she tried her very best to keep locked away because the night Annie died broke something inside her that was never healed.

  Annie left them in 2009, and Colm followed in the September of 2016. The two people Shauna loved more than life, both gone.

  That’s why this trip was important to her. Maybe she’d never grieved properly. Perhaps she hadn’t yet healed. But, whatever the reason, she had a burning need to find a connection, to find a piece of her that was still here, that she could hold on to.

  ‘Aw God, you look upset again. Have they run out of strawberry tarts? I’m going to raise holy hell if they have.’ Lulu put her handbag down on the seat, then tucked half a dozen carrier bags under the table.

  ‘Holy crap, did you do a trolley dash? How is it even possible to buy that much stuff in such a short period of time?’

  ‘It’s a special gift, only given to the few who won’t waste it,’ she said solemnly. ‘So you still haven’t told me why you look sad. What’s happened?’

  Shauna shrugged, forcing a smile. ‘Nothing at all. Just thinking about Annie. I miss her.’

  ‘Me too.’ Lulu had known Annie all her life and she had been a surrogate grandmother to her – one that gave her cast off mini-skirts and provided an alibi when Lulu and Shauna were seventeen and wanted to go clubbing. They told their parents they were at Annie’s house every weekend for about two years, and she went along with it every time. Her only condition was that she took them to whatever club or party they were going to. She’d then wait outside with her flask, her sandwiches and a good crime novel, until 3 a.m. when the club closed or the party emptied, and she’d drive them back to her place, hooting with laughter at the tales of their night.

  That’s who Annie Williams was.

  Before Lulu could order a drink and enquire as to the status of the strawberry tart situation, the door opened again and John rushed back in. ‘I think your aunt might have returned. An elderly lady went in the main door, then I saw a light go on in the flat on the second floor. The left one. That’s it, isn’t it?’

  Shauna’s excitement surged. ‘I think so. It’s definitely the second floor, so even if it’s not the right one, it must be her neighbour.’ She said a silent prayer of thanks for the lack of Scottish December daylight. It wasn’t even four o’clock yet and already it was dark. If Flora hadn’t put a light on, John would never have realised the newcomer was on the second floor.

  They ran out of the café, jumped in the car and raced to the flats. On the way, she texted Beth.

  Hi babe, hope you’re still having a fab time. Remember to hold Auntie Rosie’s hand on roller coasters because she’s really scared of them. Love you. xx

  The reply was instant.

  Don’t worry, Mum, she hasn’t fallen out of one yet. I’m taking good care of her. Love you back.

  Then twenty hearts and kiss face emojis. Shauna would never admit it, but she was so pleased Lulu had bought Beth that phone.

  She’d barely slipped her phone back into her bag when they arrived at the flats.

  ‘My heart is racing,’ Shauna told Lulu, as they walked up the path.

  ‘For God’s sake don’t faint. You know I’m crap in an emergency. I’m far too self-centred to get involved in other people’s health dramas,’ she said. It was funnier because it was absolutely true.

  ‘Okay, here goes… please be her,’ Shauna whispered as she pressed the button.

  Nothing. No reply.

  She pressed it again.

  Nothing.

  Crestfallen, she was getting ready to scoop her hopes off the floor, when a voice crackled through the speaker.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Hi. Er, hello. Good afternoon,’ Shauna stuttered. ‘I’m really sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for Flora McGinty.’

  ‘She doesn’t live here,’ the voice said. ‘You’ve got the wrong house.’

  ‘Oh.’ Hopes. Floor. Scoop. ‘Do you think you can pass a message on to her please?’

  ‘I’m not promising anything,’ said the voice, a little hostile now.

  ‘That’s okay. Can you just tell her that I’m looking for her, please? My name is Shauna O’Flynn. I’m her sister Annie’s granddaughter.’

  Before she could say anything else, or leave a contact number, there was an audible gasp, then the voice was back, different now. Stunned. Breathless.

  ‘I don’t give my name to cold callers,’ she said. ‘But I’m Flora McGinty. You’d better come on up.’

  Fourteen

  George

  I try to keep my breathing steady as the memory of Flora’s reaction to my confession that I’d told Declan about her pregnancy makes my gut ache. I don’t want to be setting off the machines again and have that poor lass Liv running in here like I’m about to pop my clogs. That’ll come soon enough. Right now, I don’t want to be a bother to her.

  The scream had come first, so
loud I’m sure the neighbours must have thought someone was being murdered. Then the shouting. And, dear God, she gave me my character, called me words I’d never heard come out of her mouth in our lifetime.

  Thing is, I can see that I deserved it. I was trying to help, but it was a foolish notion and anyone with an ounce of sense would have known he would flee.

  The only consolation was that she didn’t have to see his bastard face when he told her that he wouldn’t be standing by her. This way he was gone, and she didn’t have to witness his cruelty first hand.

  That’s not how she saw it at the time, mind, and I don’t blame her.

  I reckon she would have gone for me if our Betty hadn’t put her arms around her to calm her down, then caught her when she fainted.

  We’d just got her on to the couch and revived her with a cup of tea when there was a thump on the back door. We all knew it could only be one person. In he came, letting himself in, just as he always did. Nobody locked their back doors in those days – but we did after that night. He had my mother with him, too. Turns out he’d stopped to pick her up on the way over, after Flora hadn’t come home for her tea. Well, as soon as Ma spotted Flora, she rushed to her side, convinced she was ill.

  I don’t know what came over my sister. Maybe it was exhaustion. Or grief. Or she was just overcome with the nerves. But she just said it, right there, like it was nothing important. ‘I’m not sick, Ma, I’m pregnant.’

  If the neighbours didn’t already think there was a murder taking place in our house, they did now. My da yelled, a guttural, wounded, animal scream, then lost his head completely. Flora sat, like she was in a trance, as she answered his questions and they got the whole story out of her. No, it wasn’t Arthur, that boy from Newton Mearns. No, the father wouldn’t be standing by her. It was my ma who asked first.

  ‘Who is he, Flora?’

  My sister didn’t even flinch, just told her in a matter-of-fact way, as if she was rhyming off the shopping. ‘Declan.’

  ‘Declan who?’ my ma asked, clearly confused. It took her a while, but then you could see by her face that the horrible truth was dawning. ‘That boy Annie was seeing?’ she prompted, and my dad’s head whipped around. He had no idea Annie was seeing anyone, because she told him nothing, but she’d confided in our mother. Of course, my ma had kept it to herself for fear of sending the old man into a rage.