The girls came in immediately and Betty said, ‘Poor wee Mary. You did well, Janet. Sandra tells me you calmly took charge of the situation, helped Mary, helped Sandra, sent for the ambulance and so on.’
‘I don’t know about calmly,’ Janet said.
Betty glanced at her watch. ‘I’ll go and visit her right away. I shouldn’t be too long. I’ll come in as soon as I get back and let you know exactly how she is.’
‘I’m going to go too,’ Janet said.
‘No, no, Janet. You don’t look fit enough to go anywhere. Not today. Leave it to me just now.’
Janet was secretly relieved. She felt quite faint. After Betty left to go and visit the hospital, Sandra rallied to her aid.
‘You relax through in the living room and watch television or read the paper, I’ll make us a cup of coffee and then I’ll see to the lunch.’
‘Thank you, Sandra. I’m feeling my age today, I think. I haven’t an ounce of energy left.’
‘I don’t think sleeping tablets give you a refreshing sleep, do you? I mean, they can knock you out but next day you don’t feel much benefit.’
‘Yes, you’re right. I’m not going to take one tonight.’
‘How about if I go down to Springburn and get some herbal tablets? I sometimes used to take valerian and lemon balm. You can get lemon balm tea as well. Or lemon balm and valerian tea. It’s very soothing, I always found.’
‘That sounds just what we need, dear. Yes, I’d appreciate that.’
‘I’ll wait until Betty comes back and then I’ll go.’
‘That’s kind of you, Sandra. I appreciate it.’
‘The fresh air will do me good and getting out of the house for a wee while as well. I mean, every time I look at that fire, I …’
‘Yes, all right, Sandra. That’s the kettle boiling. If you make the coffee, I’ll just go through and have a few minutes’ rest.’
Actually she would have preferred to go to bed but she resisted the temptation. Betty had said she was strong and she was strong. She would get over this, as she had got over everything else. It was true what Betty said. Well, she never actually said the words, ‘You are no longer the stuttering, fearful, nervous wreck that you once were.’ But Janet knew that’s what she meant. That pathetic woman had gone. She was strong now. With great determination, she kept repeating the words to herself.
After an hour or two resting quietly against the deep green cushions of the chair with the fresh air from the window wafting in, she began to feel better. Sounds from far down on the road filtered faintly in with the breeze, not upsetting her with their coarse laughter and broad Glasgow accents as they once had. Now they had the familiarity of home. She dozed off for a time. She was awakened by Sandra setting the table for lunch.
‘Sit where you are, Janet. I’ll give you it over on a tray.’
‘No, no, I’m fine now, thanks. I’d rather come to the table.’
‘Betty was in earlier but we thought it best not to waken you. We thought the rest would do you good.’
‘Yes, I do feel much better. But what about Mary?’
‘She’s still poorly after the operation. But she’s going to be all right.’
‘Thank goodness.’
‘What does Betty think? Does she know the truth about what happened?’
‘They told her at the hospital. I bet Mary’s blood was full of alcohol. Betty didn’t say exactly but she questioned me about the whisky. She saw the bottle in the kitchen, of course. I told her quite truthfully that we hadn’t seen her bringing whisky in.’ Sandra’s eyes widened. ‘I mean we didn’t, did we?’
‘Maybe we should have told her about the beer.’
‘Mary was all right with the beer.’
‘Yes, she was, right enough,’ Janet agreed.
‘It must have been that madman I was married to that caused her to take something stronger,’ Sandra said. ‘She’d probably thought it would help to calm her. She tried to act brave, like she always does, but she was really devastated.’
‘We all were, Sandra, but poor Mary always had her drink problem.’
‘Fancy her losing an arm. That’s terrible. I feel it’s really my fault.’
‘How on earth …?’
‘Well, he was my husband and, if I hadn’t been here and if I hadn’t …’
‘Oh, you do go on,’ Janet interrupted impatiently. ‘What we’ll have to think about now is how we can help Mary.’
Sandra nodded.
‘I do, don’t I? I’ve never had much confidence in myself.
‘Sandra!’ Janet groaned.
‘Oh, sorry.’
‘Mary will have a lot of readjusting to do. Coping with only one arm.’
‘I hope they don’t put her out. I’ll feel terrible about that.’
‘Surely they won’t. It would be too cruel. How would she manage? Where could she go? No, I can’t imagine Betty doing that.’
‘They won’t at first anyway because Betty said they told her that once Mary’s home, a nurse will come regularly to dress …’ Sandra shuddered ‘the stump.’
‘I can’t imagine her drinking again. Not after this, surely. But we must try to get her to go out more. Not just to the shops and back. We should take her into town to the cinema perhaps. And for walks in the park. Anything to give her an interest and keep her off drink.’
‘Yes, we should all get out more. I was just saying that to Alice the other day. She’s worse than ever, by the way. She’s frightened to put a foot over the door. Rita said an old neighbour had seen her in the park and she’s terrified he’ll tell her husband where she is.’
‘Did he actually see her come in here?’
‘No. Rita says she’s sure there’s no need for her to feel so scared. Alice agrees but still refuses to go out. She just can’t, she says.’
‘She’ll get over it in time,’ Janet said. ‘Especially once she gets another house.’
‘Rita says Alice wants to move to another town. Betty’s going to see what can be done about that. But first they’ve to go and see a lawyer about Alice’s divorce. I know how she feels. I was terrified to put a foot over the door. I know this will sound awful but I used to secretly wish my husband was dead. Now he is, maybe I wished it on him.’
‘Nonsense but I know how you feel,’ Janet said. And she did. Exactly.
17
Each multi-storey building, Mabel thought, was like a separate village. She knew nothing of the people or what went on in the other tower blocks, like Viewpoint, but, in The Heights, she was aware of all the gossip. She overheard things in the lift, or echoing on the landings, or while she was disposing of her rubbish. Nothing really newsworthy had ever happened in all the years she’d been living in the flat. Until recently. Of course crime, especially drug-related crime, was on the increase all over the country, indeed the world. Or so she had read in the newspapers and learned from the television. But gun crime? She’d never heard about such a thing in Glasgow. Who would have thought of anything so violent happening right on her own doorstep, so to speak?
Razors, yes. She’s heard of razor gangs. But not nowadays and not here. She’d once read a book about razor-wielding gangs in the Gorbals. But that was a novel. The author had probably made it all up. She’d certainly never seen or heard of any such things in Springburn or Balornock. There was drunkenness. And she suspected there might be drug-taking going on among the crowds of youths that often hung about outside the building. But nothing, as far as she knew, really serious. Or at least, nothing considered newsworthy. Until the photographs of The Heights, outside and inside, were splashed all over the papers.
It made her think about moving. She had a few fond memories of her schooldays in the Highlands, walking though the beautiful countryside, along peaceful country roads, seeing people in cottages hanging up washing. People’s friendly greetings in passing. But those were far-off days. Her parents had moved to Glasgow when she was still quite young, first to the old tenements and
then to this high-rise flat. She knew no one in the Highlands now. She would be as lonely there as she was here. Anyway, she didn’t feel fit enough now to cope with all the upheaval of moving house.
Indeed, she felt it quite an ordeal to cope even with living here. Her arthritis wasn’t getting any better. The doctor said it was ‘just wear and tear’. Just! Had he no idea of the pain and disability involved? At one time she had treated herself to little outings across in the park, especially if there was a concert or some other event going on. Sometimes she’d even take a packed lunch and sit on one of the park seats and watch whatever was happening. Maybe she should start doing that again. There used to be a brass band playing. It might have been the Salvation Army – she couldn’t remember – but she had enjoyed it. She wasn’t so keen on the Orange Walk parade which sometimes ended up in the park. She remembered how they used to purposely march past any local Catholic church and bang their drums as loud as they could as they did so. It had made her feel nervous. They always seemed too provocative, always looking for a fight.
Nowadays, it was becoming a struggle to venture any further than the park. To go into town to Marks & Spencer’s for food, for instance, was becoming more of an ordeal than a pleasure. What would happen if she became completely housebound? She had no daughter, no ‘good girl’, to slave after her. Not that she would have made a slave of a daughter if she’d been lucky enough to have one. She still felt some bitterness towards her mother and father. Especially her mother.
However, what was the use of feeling like that now? The past was past. She had to concentrate on making the best she could of the present and just pray that the future wouldn’t be as bad as she feared. What she feared as much as anything, of course, was being without John. He hadn’t phoned for a few nights and she thought that was an end of it. But now, he had phoned again explaining that he had been away from home on business. He said how good it was to hear her lovely Highland voice again.
She had laughed. ‘I’ve lived in Glasgow for years, John. I consider myself a Glaswegian now.’
‘I bet your parents never lost their Highland accent.’
‘Well, no. But they had lived there much longer than I had.’
‘You haven’t lost it either. And I’m glad. It makes you different from anyone else I’ve ever known. It makes you special.’
Later in the conversation, he’d said, ‘Did you read in the paper about the gun siege?’
She immediately became wary. ‘Yes.’
‘Terrible, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes. You don’t expect guns in Glasgow. That’s the sort of thing that happens more in America, isn’t it?’
‘It wasn’t near where you live, then?’
She felt a flurry of distress. ‘No, of course not. What makes you say that?’
‘I care about you, darling. I don’t want you to be in any danger.’
‘Well, anyway, it’s all over now. The gunman’s dead. He must have been mad to go berserk like that. And with a gun!’
‘Yes. If he’d wanted to kill somebody that badly, there are quieter ways of doing it.’
‘You’re giving me the shivers, John. For goodness’ sake, let’s talk about something else.’
‘Sorry. It was just something everybody’s been talking about.’
‘I know but …’
‘I am sorry if I’ve upset you, Angela. I won’t say another word about it. What have you been doing since I’ve been away?’
‘Oh, just working and coming home and watching television or reading.’
‘Where did you say you worked?’
‘I didn’t.’ She was beginning to feel very uneasy. ‘We agreed, John. We were never going to know each other’s true identity. Never going to meet.’
‘No, it was you who said …’
‘Yes, you did, right from the beginning, John. It’s the rule with these calls and you’ve always known that. I’m so sorry that your feelings have changed like this. Everything was so perfect before.’
‘Perfect?’ His voice was incredulous. ‘How can any relationship be perfect that’s just voices over a phone?’
‘I’m so sorry. I really thought you were as content and as happy as I was.’
‘Content?’ He gave a bitter laugh. It didn’t sound like her John at all.
‘Is there somebody else, Angela? Please tell me the truth. I think I at least deserve the truth.’
She hesitated. Yes, he did deserve the truth but the words – I’m old enough to be your mother or even your grandmother. I’m old and I’m ugly – refused to be spoken out loud. She couldn’t bear to say them. They were too cruel.
‘I don’t love anybody else,’ she managed. ‘I never have and that’s the truth.’
‘Well then …’
‘Please, John, please don’t keep going on about this. There’s a perfectly good reason for us not meeting, believe me.’
‘You love me.’ He seemed to be talking to himself. ‘And I love you.’
‘John, I’m sorry. I’ll have to go now.’
She hastily replaced the receiver. Then caught up in a wild hurricane of grief, she wept uncontrollably. Oh, what she would give to be young and beautiful. She would have sold her soul to the devil to be young and beautiful right now.
18
Cheryl felt depressed. She missed Tommy. He had taken a virus that had been so severe he had to go home early from work. He couldn’t even talk over the phone. He had been retching and vomiting so much. His mother had told her, ‘Best not to phone again for a few days.’
‘Can I come and see him, then?’
‘No, definitely not. He’s retching his heart up. I’m running back and forward with a basin all the time. He wouldn’t want you to see him like that. The doctor says it’s an airborne virus that’s going around and a lot of people have contracted it. Tommy will phone you when he’s well enough.’
She had to be content with that. But she missed him. She missed their chats over the phone. She missed their walks through the park. She missed their journeys around different districts looking for a flat to rent. Some of the prices were outrageous. They’d always gone for a coffee or a drink afterwards and sat discussing whatever flat it was they’d seen.
She began to worry. It upset her to think of Tommy being distressed and ill. She wanted to be with him to help him. They’d had a photo taken together and she kept taking it out and looking at it. Sometimes, when no one was looking, she kissed it. She even began to worry in case Mrs McKechnie was lying and in some devious way trying to keep her and Tommy apart. Days at work floated by like a dream.
Then the world changed. Tommy didn’t just phone. He arrived at The Heights. Monty let him in downstairs. Her mother answered the doorbell and then called out in a wavering voice, ‘Cheryl, it’s Tommy to see you.’
Forgetting to put on her usual casual act in front of her mother and father, she rushed from her bedroom into the lobby and flung her arms around Tommy’s neck.
‘I’ve been so worried about you.’
Her mother gave a trembling smile and retreated into the living room. From there, her father’s drunken voice roared out, ‘That you, Tommy? C’mon in, son. C’mon in an’ have a wee refreshment.’
‘Let’s go for a walk across in the park,’ she suggested in desperation.
Tommy grinned and nodded. Then as soon as they’d left the house, his arms tightened around her and he kissed her passionately on the mouth. The kiss would have lasted longer but it was interrupted by some neighbours spilling out of the lift.
Tommy quickly dragged Cheryl into the lift before the door closed and they went plummeting down. Another kiss was spoiled by the door opening at the twenty-third floor and Betty, the refuge worker, like a mother hen led in two worried-looking women from the refuge. Betty smiled at them. She had such a calm, sympathetic, yet strong face. There were times when Cheryl wished she lived in the refuge and could depend on Betty to sort out her troubles.
‘How’s wee Mary?�
�� she asked. ‘I was that sorry to hear about her accident.’
‘We’re on our way to see her now. We’ll let you know …’
‘We found her, Janet and me,’ a saucer-eyed Sandra interrupted. ‘It was absolutely horrific.’
‘Here we are,’ Betty said cheerfully as the lift jerked to a halt. ‘I’ll tell Mary you were asking for her. Bye.’
Cheryl returned Betty’s wave and felt amused at the way the big refuge worker was herding the women away along the road.
Tommy’s arm was around her waist and more than anything, Cheryl felt happy. There was no doubt now in her mind that she loved him. Now if they found a flat together, she wanted to share not just his bed but his life. As they strolled through the park, arms around each other’s waist, they didn’t talk at first. They were both so content and so happy. Eventually Cheryl managed, ‘Are you all right now, Tommy? I really was worried about you. I’ve heard of people dying of these bugs.’
‘I’m fine. It’ll take more than a wee bug to finish me off. I’ll tell you one thing, though. I was dying to tell you I saw an advert in a local shop about a flat in Kay Street. It’s just minutes away from your work. I know you’re a bit fed up working in the shopping centre but with the sports centre just across the road from the flat, with the gym and the pool and the library and God knows what all else in one building, you could try for a job there.’
‘Oh, that’s wonderful, Tommy. When’ll we go and see it? Could we go now, right away? I can’t wait.’
Tommy laughed.
‘We’ve an appointment to view tomorrow night. It’s the earliest I could get. The factor said the folk in it aren’t moving out until tomorrow afternoon. He’s doing us a favour because of it being a Saturday. His office is shut then but he says the folks moving out will leave the key with the man next door.’
Cheryl did a skip of delight.
‘I’m so excited. I’ll not be able to sleep a wink tonight. I’m not usually able to sleep on a Friday because of my dad bawling and singing and it makes me so mad. But tonight I won’t care. I’ll just be so happy looking forward to tomorrow night.’
A Deadly Deception Page 10
