Follow Your Dream

by Patricia Burns

  ‘You can’t let him get away with this,’ she decided, standing up. ‘I’m going to phone the police.’

  ‘No, no!’ Wendy made a grab for her arm. ‘Don’t! I don’t want you to!’

  ‘But we’ve got to stop him, Wendy.’

  ‘No, please, please, you mustn’t—’

  Wendy was panic stricken. She held on to Lillian’s arm with manic strength. Coral started wailing again. And, as if sensing the family feeling, outside in the garden little Terrance started to cry. Wendy stood in the middle of it all, looking from one child to the other and back to Lillian, not knowing what to do first.

  ‘You go and get the baby,’ Lillian said.

  ‘No, not if you’re going to phone the police. You mustn’t phone the police.’

  ‘No p’lice, no p’lice!’ Coral repeated in her ear-splitting voice.

  ‘All right, all right,’ Lillian said. ‘Look, I’ll get the baby.’

  Gradually, she managed to soothe everybody. By the time she did so, the clock on the kitchen wall was showing nearly four. Lillian was torn. She had to get home and see to her mother before making family tea.

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said. ‘Are you going to be all right, Wendy?’

  ‘Yes, yes. But promise me you won’t phone the police.’

  By now it had occurred to Lillian that it would be no use anyway. The police did not interfere in what went on between man and wife.

  ‘All right. I promise,’ she said.

  Wendy gave a great sigh of relief. The tension went out of her body.

  ‘But what can I do to help?’ Lillian wanted to know.

  ‘Nothing. And don’t tell no one. Promise? I couldn’t bear it if you told. It’s all right as long as nobody knows.’

  Reluctantly, Lillian agreed to this as well, but made a mental note that it was only until she had decided what was the best course of action.

  ‘I’ll come back tomorrow and see if you’re OK,’ she said.

  ‘No!’ Instantly, Wendy was trembling again. ‘No, Terry might be back. He wouldn’t want you to see me like—’

  She broke off. No, Lillian thought grimly, she wasn’t surprised that Terry didn’t want anyone to see her looking like that. He ought to be ashamed of himself.

  ‘OK. But look, you phone me when it’s all right to come round.’

  This time it was she who extracted the promise.

  James drove back from Chelmsford with his head whirling with plans. This was the start of the big time. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, and what he needed was someone to share it all with. Fleetingly he considered calling round to see Bob and Susan, but he dismissed the idea as soon as it came into his head. Neither of them would understand what he was aiming at. They would just think him irresponsible to be risking so much. It was no use talking to his latest girlfriend either. She was a pretty thing, and very nice. Too nice, really, for he knew that she would just listen wide-eyed and make all the right noises but not have anything of substance to say. So he did what he’d known he was going to do all along. He stopped off at the next phone box he came to and rang Lillian.

  ‘Sunny View Guest House.’

  ‘Hi, Lindy! Your friendly neighbourhood exhaust man here.’

  ‘Oh—James—’

  She did not sound especially glad to hear from him. Disappointment dragged at his insides. This was all wrong. Lillian was always happy when he rang.

  ‘What’s the matter, Lindy?’

  ‘Oh—nothing—’

  ‘You need to get out more. Listen, how about a driving lesson this evening? It’s about time we put you in for the test.’

  ‘I don’t know, James—’

  ‘Oh, come on. There’s something I want to show you. Half-seven all right?’

  ‘OK, yes. Half seven. Got to go now; my mum needs me.’

  He needed her too, James realised, then reproved himself for being so selfish. Poor Lindy. She had her mother to look after, her grandmother to appease, that useless lump of a father and slimy brother to feed and clean up after and the guest house to run. She could do without him leaning on her as well. He would take her out somewhere nice some time soon, give her a treat. She deserved it. And in the meantime he would make sure she passed her driving test.

  He tied the L-plates on the Mini and arrived at the door of Sunny View dead on time.

  ‘You’re looking pleased with yourself,’ Lillian said.

  ‘I’m on my way, kiddo. And all due to you.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. Talking to you helps me sort my ideas out. Now, let’s see if you can pull away without me reminding you what to do.’

  For the next fifteen minutes or so, he gave her directions and corrected her driving. Then Lillian began to realise that they were not taking their usual route round the town.

  ‘What are we doing here?’ she asked as she drove along the main road out of town.

  ‘We’re going to Chelmsford,’ he told her.

  ‘Chelmsford! What for?’

  ‘We’re going to look at two possible places for While-U-Wait. I need your opinion.’

  ‘Oh—’

  ‘So now you can take her up to sixty. It’s safe enough here.’

  ‘Sixty! I’ve never been that fast before.’

  ‘You’ll be fine. You’re a natural.’

  By the time they got to Chelmsford, Lillian was shaking and making silly mistakes. She pulled over and stopped the car.

  ‘You take over. I can’t concentrate.’

  It wasn’t like her to give up. James was worried.

  ‘What’s up, Lindy? You’re not yourself this evening.’

  ‘Nothing. At least—no, nothing really. Just family. You know.’

  James did know. ‘They don’t deserve you,’ he said. ‘Slaving away for them all.’

  ‘It’s not that, it’s—’ She hesitated.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Lillian got out of the car and came round to the passenger side. ‘Go on, get in the driver’s seat. Where are these premises of yours?’

  James showed her the two places he had chosen out of those available. They chewed over the pros and cons of each one until he came to a decision. It was the one he had preferred all along, the more expensive one. Answering Lillian’s questions made him certain that the investment would be worthwhile.

  They went for a drink.

  ‘Here’s to the Exhaust King of Essex,’ Lillian said.

  They clinked glasses.

  ‘I’ll either be a king or a bankrupt. I’m really going out on a limb with this,’ James said.

  ‘It’s a brilliant idea. You’re going to be a huge success,’ Lillian assured him.

  Warmed by her faith, James talked on for a while about his plans, until he realised that her attention had wandered.

  ‘—or I could give it all up and be a pig farmer,’ he said.

  ‘Well, yes, you could—what? Pig farmer? What are you talking about?’

  ‘You’re not with me, are you?’

  ‘I am, honest.’

  ‘Something’s bothering you.’

  Lillian sighed. ‘I’m worried about Wendy, that’s all.’

  ‘Wendy? What about her?’

  ‘I said I wouldn’t—it’s just that Terry. I don’t think he’s treating her right.’

  It didn’t come as any surprise to James. ‘I never did think the bastard was good enough for her. What’s he done now?’

  Lillian’s eyes slid away from his. ‘Oh, well—you know—Wendy never seems happy these days.’

  How could she be happy, married to a man like that?

  ‘Poor girl. She deserves better. Look, Lindy, I don’t know what I can do to help—I mean, she’s not going to leave him, is she?’

  After all, wives did not leave their husbands when there were children to be considered.

  ‘No. She says she still loves him.’

  James frowned into his drink. It frustrated him that this was one pr
oblem to which he couldn’t see a solution.

  ‘There’s not a lot to be said then, is there? I don’t have any influence over Dempsey. I don’t know who has. He’s a law unto himself. But listen, Lindy. If ever you feel there’s something I can do, don’t hesitate to ask.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She smiled at him. ‘I’ll remember that.’

  After he had dropped her back at Sunny View, James drove down to the seafront and sat for a while looking at the crowds swirling along the Golden Mile. The illuminations were better than ever this year, thousands of lights forming starbursts and flowers and moving cartoon characters. People came down from London in the hundreds on trains and coaches to see them, to drink in the seafront pubs and spend their money in Terry Dempsey’s amusement arcades. And, as he contemplated this, James realised that he no longer felt the searing jealousy that he once had of Dempsey. He loathed and despised the man, but he didn’t envy him his possession of Wendy. The spell was broken. All he felt for Wendy was sadness that such a lovely girl should be shackled to a man who made her unhappy.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  ‘OI!’

  Lillian jumped. She was folding a pile of towels at the kitchen table and thinking about James and his latest girlfriend, and now here was this furtive face looking round the back door.

  ‘Your Frank in?’

  He was a thin-faced young man with a shifty look to him. Lillian was transported back to that long-ago time when James had rescued her from Frank’s cronies.

  ‘No, he didn’t come home last night,’ she said.

  Gran was furious about it. She did like to know where everyone was.

  ‘You sure?’ the young man asked.

  Lillian put down the towel and turned to face him. ‘What’s it to you?’ she countered.

  The young man gave her a filthy look. ‘Don’t you go giving me no lip, see? I want to know, that’s all.’

  Lillian wasn’t taking any of that. She wasn’t a kid any more. She’d dealt with types like him before. ‘Well, I want to know and all, so we’re quits, aren’t we? Now, you can just get out of my kitchen, OK?’

  ‘If I find you been lying—’

  Lillian took a step forward. ‘You trying to threaten me? Who are you? What’s your name?’

  He didn’t like that. ‘None o’ your bleeding business,’ he said, and left.

  ‘Good riddance,’ Lillian muttered to herself. When Frank came home, she was going to kill him.

  He didn’t appear till early evening, when Lillian was once again in the kitchen, washing up the tea things.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ she asked. ‘You better watch it—Gran’s after your hide.’

  ‘So what? She can go boil her head. Any grub going?’

  ‘There’s bread. You can make yourself a sandwich.’ She wasn’t going to start cooking for him.

  Frank grumbled a bit, then slapped some marg and jam on a couple of slices of bread and took a massive bite. ‘Gotta go,’ he mumbled through his mouthful, and made for the door.

  ‘Where are you off to now?’ Lillian called after him.

  The slam of the door was the only reply.

  Lillian stared out into the gloom of the back yard. She didn’t like this. Something was up. She was proved right an hour later when there was loud knocking at the front door. She hurried to open it and found herself confronted by the police.

  A plain clothes policeman stepped forward and waved his ID in front of her face.

  ‘Detective Sergeant Phillips, miss. Frank Parker live here?’

  ‘Yes,’ Lillian said. ‘Why?’

  ‘We’d like to speak to him.’

  He made to step inside. Lillian stood with one hand on the door and the other on the frame, blocking the entrance.

  ‘He’s not in.’

  ‘Then we’ll have to search the house, miss. We have a warrant—’ A piece of paper was briefly held up.

  Lillian was horrified. A search warrant! This didn’t happen to people like them. Only criminals had their houses searched. The unease that she had been feeling escalated into a sense of doom. Shaking, she stepped back and opened the door. The hall seemed to be filled with large bodies in navy uniform. At that moment, Gran appeared round the door of her room, closely followed by Doug, who had been watching the television with her.

  ‘What’s happening? What are all these policemen doing in my house?’

  ‘Searching the premises, madam. We’ll start here, if that’s all right with you. And miss, would you show me Frank Parker’s room?’

  Lillian left Gran arguing with two police constables and led the detective and another uniformed man upstairs. She remembered the shoe box full of notes. What if Gran had another one stashed away? She wouldn’t put it past her. Would the police believe that it was an old woman’s life savings, or would they think it was the result of whatever Frank had been up to? Her stomach churned. And what about her mother? Surely they wouldn’t search her room?

  ‘Can you be quiet, please?’ she asked as the men clumped up the stairs behind her. ‘My mother’s very ill and she’s in bed in the room next to Frank’s. I don’t want her frightened by all this.’

  Then another thought came to her. If Frank had hidden anything since last night, it wouldn’t be indoors. He had only got as far as the kitchen. Her mind whirred, grappling with the conflicting loyalties. She had to protect her mother, she didn’t want the house turned upside down, but, on the other hand, she didn’t want to direct the police straight to something that might incriminate her brother.

  She watched, appalled, as the men ripped the sheets off the bed, turned over the mattress and started pulling the drawers out of the chest and turning them out. This was awful, awful. Were they going to do the same to her room? Were they going through Gran’s like this? She put her head round the door of her mother’s room. Nettie had the bedspread pulled up to her chin with both thin hands. Her terrified eyes looked back at Lillian.

  ‘It…It’s all right, Mum,’ Lillian said, trying her hardest to sound reassuring. ‘Just some men looking for something in Frank’s room. Nothing to worry about, really. They’ll soon be gone.’

  Nettie said nothing, but a small whimpering noise came from her throat.

  Lillian closed the door and stood at the threshold of Frank’s room. She had to stop them from frightening her mother.

  ‘Wait—listen—’ she said.

  The detective looked up. ‘Just doing our job, miss.’

  ‘I know, I know,’ she placated. ‘But I just thought—Frank called in for just a few minutes earlier this evening. He hadn’t been in for—oh—twenty-four hours before that. But, the thing is, he only came into the kitchen and then he was away again, so whatever you’re looking for, it might be in the sheds in the yard.’

  ‘That so, miss?’ the detective gave her a hard look. ‘Only just remembered that, have you?’

  Behind him, the uniformed man was now rifling through the wardrobe.

  ‘Well, yes—I didn’t think—look, I don’t want you going through my mother’s room like this. She’s really sick—’

  The detective looked sceptical. ‘So you said, miss. You stay right there, right? Where I can see you. Then, when we’ve finished here, we’ll look outside.’

  It took her several minutes to realise that he didn’t trust her not to go and move whatever Frank might have hidden. She felt sick with humiliation and anger. He thought she was some sort of—what was it?—accessory to a crime. She hardly knew whether she most wanted to cry or scream or get hold of Frank and shake him until he rattled. How dared he bring this on his family?

  Nothing untoward was found in Frank’s room, so they went downstairs again. As they went past Gran’s room, Lillian could hear her berating the policemen and them being very polite in return. She smothered the start of a hysterical giggle. Trust Gran to hold up, whatever the situation. If it came to a contest between Gran and a young police officer, her money was on Gran.

  It was cold and damp
outside in the yard. Lillian shivered and wrapped her cardigan more firmly around her as the policemen shone powerful torches first in the old wash house with its copper and stone sink and mangle, then in the shed where she kept her bike. They had hardly been in there half a minute before the uniformed man gave a shout of triumph.

  ‘Look at this, sir.’

  It was a large cardboard box full of cartons of cigarettes.

  Lillian was filled with helpless fury. How could Frank be so stupid as to put them there? A further search produced a crowbar.

  ‘This yours, miss?’

  ‘No. Never seen it before,’ Lillian said.

  When she got hold of her brother…and then she fetched up against another dreadful dilemma. What was she going to do when Frank made another appearance?

  She didn’t have very long to make her mind up. Just five minutes after the police left, Lillian was making a soothing pot of tea for everyone when Frank turned up at the back door again.

  ‘They gone?’ he asked.

  ‘Frank! What the hell—?’

  ‘Shut up, sis. I had enough trouble for one day. I’m going to bed.’

  ‘You are not!’

  All at once, she knew what she was going to do.

  ‘If you think I’m going to protect you, you’ve got another think coming. I only just stopped them from going all through Mum’s room. Just think what that might have done to her!’

  Frank stared at her. ‘You’re not going to shop me, are you? Your own flesh and blood?’

  ‘No, but I’m not going to lie for you either. You go now and hole up with one of your fine friends, and I won’t tell the police you’ve been here. But you’re not to come back, do you hear? I won’t have you back here making Mum even sicker than she is already.’

  Frank couldn’t believe she was serious. Lillian resorted to walking up the hall towards the phone.

  ‘OK, if you won’t go, I’m calling 999.’

  From Gran’s room, the TV was blaring. Lillian prayed it was covering the noise of her row with Frank. Her hand hovered over the receiver.

  ‘You bitch!’ Frank spat. ‘All right, I’m going. Bleeding traitor! You’re no sister of mine.’

  ‘And no brother of mine is a thief and a liar!’ Lillian hissed back.