Moving On

by Rosie Harris

  She felt cold and hungry and was so uncomfortable that she only slept in short spells. Her mind was churning with the trauma that lay ahead. The biggest problem was, she thought worriedly, what am I going to tell my grandmother? She certainly didn’t want her to know that she had been carrying drugs as she went backwards and forwards on her various trips. Or tell her that Hadyn was a drug smuggler and that the police were on his trail and that she could very well be considered as guilty as him.

  So what am I to tell her? she pondered. Could she make up a story about ill health, or would that give rise to complications because Jenny would want to know the details. Should she tell her she was tired of her job and wanted a change. It sounded feasible but if she said that then her grandmother would want to know why she was giving up her life with Hadyn.

  Perhaps, if she told her that she had quarrelled with Hadyn, that would give her a plausible reason for giving up her job as well. Would her grandmother believe her if she said she’d been forced to leave because she couldn’t bear to work in the same company as him any longer? Or should she say that Hadyn had sacked her? If she said that then Jenny would want to know why, and try as she might she couldn’t think of a valid reason.

  It was all so complicated that she decided to leave a decision about what she would tell Jenny until she reached Wallasey. Perhaps she’d be lucky and Gran wouldn’t ask too many questions or, if she did, by then she’d have had some sort of inspiration and know what to tell her.

  Seventeen

  Most of the residents at Merseyside Mansions were gathered in the large communal lounge, their eyes glued to a television set that someone had brought down and set up on a low table in the middle of the room. They were all clutching slips of paper carrying the name of a horse and, with their glasses primed, they were so intent on waiting for the start of the 1977 Grand National that very few of them noticed Karen’s arrival.

  Jenny was startled to see her. She had not heard from her for weeks.

  Momentarily she was shocked by Karen’s appearance. Her dark blonde hair was straggly and looked as though it was in need of a wash; her clothes were crumpled almost as if she had slept in them. Jenny immediately wondered if she’d been ill.

  Karen put a restraining hand on her grandmother’s shoulder as she stood up to greet her and shook her head when Jenny offered to take her along to her apartment.

  ‘There’s no rush. Stay and see what the result of the race is first,’ she said in a low voice as she perched herself on the arm of Jenny’s chair.

  It was the Major who first caught sight of Karen and all his attention was immediately focused on her. Ramming his monocle into one eye, he regarded her with interest. ‘Good to see you again, m’dear,’ he greeted her enthusiastically. ‘Staying long?’

  Karen smiled warmly as she returned his greeting but didn’t commit herself in any way, so Jenny constrained herself and said nothing although she, too, was curious to know.

  Someone shushed them to silence and pointed towards the television screen where the big race of the day was in progress.

  Red Rum was the favourite and no one knew who held the ticket bearing that horse’s name. Dan Grey had organized the draw and he’d given them all sealed slips and asked them not to open them until the race was over.

  Tension grew as the race drew to a close and when Red Rum was pronounced the winner, there were cheers and clapping. Everybody tore open their slip, each one of them hoping that they would be the one to find that name on it.

  When Lionel Bostock discovered that he was the one holding the winning ticket there were further cheers all round.

  Lionel raised his glass as everyone toasted his success and Dan Grey duly handed over the winnings. Lionel insisted on fetching a bottle of champagne from his apartment and so the glasses were refilled and the jollity continued for over an hour.

  Then, one by one, they took their leave and went back to their own apartments. As soon as Jenny could prise Karen away from the Major’s long rambling stories about race meetings he had attended in the past she shepherded her up to her own rooms, eager to know why she had come and how long she would be staying.

  Karen knew that the moment she had been dreading, the moment when she would have to explain things to her grandmother, had arrived. She couldn’t put off telling her that she was no longer working for Hadyn Trimm.

  ‘Really!’ Jenny raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘Why is that?’

  Karen hesitated and then took a deep breath, deciding that she might as well tell her the truth and get everything over at once rather than prolong things.

  ‘Moving in with Hadyn Trimm was a terrible mistake, but I had no idea what he was really like,’ she admitted in a contrite voice.

  ‘You mean you fell for his looks and charm and found they’d worn thin,’ Jenny commented drily. ‘What did you expect, he’s twice your age, in fact he’s old enough to be your father. You might have known he wanted you for one thing only,’ she added bitterly.

  ‘It was nothing like that,’ Karen said in a small voice. ‘I didn’t know that he was into buying and selling drugs,’ she explained, her voice trembling.

  ‘He was doing what!’ Jenny looked at her in horror, realizing that the rumours Jane Phillips had hinted at were probably true.

  With an exaggerated shiver Karen recounted an edited version of what had happened over the last few days and how Hadyn had forced her to go with him to seek refuge in Loudon Place in Cardiff and how she had managed to escape and get back to Liverpool again.

  ‘Surely you must have thought it odd that he always wanted you to carry and collect packages for him whenever you went abroad,’ Jenny said with a frown.

  ‘Not really,’ Karen told her. ‘He was my boss, remember. I was only doing what I was told.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose that’s true enough.’ Jenny sighed. ‘So what happens now?’

  ‘I don’t know, Gran, except that he is hiding because the police are looking for him and want to question him. I do hope the police don’t think I had anything to do with it,’ she added.

  ‘You did though,’ Jenny pointed out worriedly. ‘You may have acted in all innocence but you were the carrier, the go-between, so if they have been watching him then they are bound to know that you were involved as well.’

  Karen shuddered. ‘I don’t really want to talk about it, Gran.’ She sniffled.

  Jenny felt nonplussed. She didn’t know much about the law but she was pretty sure that if they were looking for Hadyn Trimm they must know all about his activities and would be looking for Karen as well because they would consider her to be an accomplice.

  ‘So what are you planning to do?’ she asked anxiously. ‘It might be best if you went to the police and told them exactly what you have been telling me. That way they might be lenient and you might get let off with a caution.’

  ‘No.’ Karen shook her head. ‘I can’t do that; it would be too risky. I was hoping I could stay here for a while until all the fuss died down. After that I’ll try and find a new job.’

  Jenny felt alarmed. Could she be in trouble if she was found to be harbouring a criminal, she wondered. Still, that was a chance she would have to take. After all, Karen was her granddaughter and, although she was now in her twenties, she still felt responsible for her.

  ‘Of course you are welcome to do that but you will have to sleep on the settee, so you won’t be very comfortable.’

  ‘That will be fine, Gran. At the moment I’m so tired I could sleep anywhere. I spent last night in the ladies’ waiting room at Lime Street Station because I didn’t have enough money to go anywhere else and I didn’t think that you would want me arriving on your doorstep in the early hours of the morning.’

  ‘What are you going to do about your own flat and your clothes and so on,’ Jenny questioned her.

  Karen looked puzzled. ‘I haven’t got a flat, and I can hardly go back to Hadyn’s house for my clothes and stuff without running into the police. They’ll be
watching his place, probably searching every inch of it, and they’ll probably turn his office over as well,’ she said dramatically.

  ‘So what are you going to wear in the meantime?’ Jenny frowned.

  ‘You’ll have to loan me some of your clothes. We are about the same size, though I’ll probably look a freak in them.’ She giggled.

  Jenny ignored the jibe. She was too busy planning ahead.

  ‘So if you haven’t bought a flat then you still have all the money I gave you after I sold Warren Point,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘That means that we could both make a fresh start. If I sold this flat then we could buy a bigger place and live together again.’

  ‘What on earth would you want to do that for, Gran?’ Karen asked rather irritably. ‘You like it here, don’t you?’

  ‘It’s all right, but it does have its drawbacks,’ Jenny said with pursed lips. ‘Too many older people for my liking. Most of them have nothing else to do but watch what goes on and either criticize or grumble.’

  ‘Surely you enjoy the company though, Gran. Each time I come I’ve found you are in the community lounge mixing with them all.’

  ‘What else can I do except sit here on my own and watch television or read a book. I walk or go shopping during the day but I don’t like going out at night, not on my own.’

  Karen shook her head but remained silent, her green eyes looked troubled.

  ‘Think about it Karen,’ Jenny persisted in a cajoling voice, ‘If we were sharing then I would be there to look after the place and do your washing and cook your meals. If we bought the place as a joint venture then when I died it would be yours.’

  ‘Forget it, Gran. We can’t afford to do it.’

  ‘Rubbish, of course we can. If I sell this place and you put your money with mine …’

  ‘Stop right there, Gran,’ Karen ordered in a tight voice. ‘I can’t go halves with you because I haven’t the money to do so.’

  ‘What on earth are you on about? After the sale of the house I gave you half of the money like your father wanted me to do.’

  ‘I let Hadyn invest it for me and … and … well that’s it; there’s no way I can get it back unless I admit that I was an associate of his and then I’ll be accused of smuggling drugs and …’ Tears overtook her as she broke down into a sobbing heap.

  Jenny stared at her for several minutes in silence. The colour had drained from her face and she was shaking like a leaf. She couldn’t believe that every penny of Karen’s inheritance had been fleeced off her by that scoundrel Hadyn Trimm. How foolish could Karen be, she thought, aghast; how had he talked her into parting with a small fortune when he was supposed to be such a wealthy man? Surely there must be some way they could reclaim it without divulging the sort of things Karen had done for him.

  Or, as she had suggested earlier, would it be better if Karen went to the police straight away and gave herself up. If she pleaded innocence and told them that he had fooled her into thinking it was all part of her job to act as a courier they might even let her off with a caution.

  The enormity of the problem went round and round in Jenny’s head, hammering at her skull until she found it impossible to think clearly.

  Karen was still curled up in a heap in the armchair, her shoulders heaving, still sobbing as if her heart would break. Surely there must be some sane solution to all this, Jenny thought wearily.

  Eighteen

  Jenny felt worried. Karen had been sleeping on the sofa for three weeks now and she seemed to have done nothing at all about making any plans for her future.

  She’d not even applied for any jobs. Most evenings Jenny had tried to encourage her by reading out two or three from the Liverpool paper that she thought might interest Karen, but she didn’t even comment on them.

  During the day she would wander off into the community lounge and, whenever Jenny went in to see if she wanted to go for a walk or go shopping, she always found her sitting with Lionel Bostock. They were usually deep in conversation and Jenny wondered what they found to discuss.

  Lionel Bostock might be very fit and alert for his eighty-three years but surely he had nothing in common with a young woman in her early twenties.

  Jenny knew that their closeness had been noticed by several of the other residents. She’d overheard a number of sly comments; waspish words that she hadn’t liked and had tried to ignore but nevertheless that had worried her.

  Jane Phillips had been very outspoken in her comments. She had made it quite obvious from the very first time she had encountered Karen that she didn’t approve of her lifestyle and her association with Hadyn Trimm. Now she was making it equally clear that she shouldn’t be living at Merseyside Mansions. ‘This place is for people of fifty-five and over, and your granddaughter, Mrs Langton, is certainly not in that category,’ she stated in a censorious voice at the Wednesday coffee morning.

  ‘I own my apartment and I can offer hospitality to whomever I wish,’ Jenny defended.

  ‘You have only one bedroom so where is your granddaughter sleeping?’

  ‘That is entirely our business,’ Jenny told her in a quiet but firm voice.

  ‘We do have a management committee you know,’ Jane retaliated, ‘and I shall be bringing the matter up at our next meeting. An overnight stay is one thing but she has been here for several weeks now and there doesn’t seem to be any sign of her leaving.’

  ‘Leaving? Who’s leaving?’ Major Mitchell asked. He inserted his monocle into one eye and stared round the room, letting his gaze come to rest on Karen. ‘Not you, young lady, I hope? Ray of sunshine in this drab place, what!’ he commented jovially, looking round at the sea of faces for agreement.

  ‘We don’t approve of permanent lodgers,’ Jane Phillips told him.

  ‘Lodger? Who is a lodger? The young lady in question is Mrs Langton’s guest and I can’t see anything wrong in that,’ Tom Fieldman intervened.

  ‘We tolerate guests but we don’t expect them to stay for weeks at a time,’ Jane Phillips stated testily. ‘Especially since it is only a one-bedroom flat. Exactly where is this so-called guest sleeping; that is what I want to know?’

  ‘I don’t really see that it is any concern of ours,’ Mavis Grey said mildly.

  ‘It most certainly is,’ Jane said heatedly and in such a commanding voice that everyone in the room stopped talking to listen to what was being said.

  ‘We have standards to maintain and if you let one person get away with this sort of thing then the next thing you know is that some people will be taking in paying guests during the holiday season.’

  ‘If it’s a bed you’re short of then I can offer one,’ Lionel Bostock blustered.

  ‘Yes, and it would be yours I imagine,’ Dan Grey said with a boisterous laugh.

  Several similar quips from other residents quickly followed Dan’s rather ribald remark.

  ‘Perhaps the ladies should be buying new hats in readiness for the next wedding,’ old Mr Packard chuckled.

  ‘No, no, you’ve all got the wrong end of the stick,’ Lionel Bostock blustered. ‘I have a second bedroom and that is only used when my son Edwin stays the night and that is a very rare occasion indeed. No, the room is there and if Mrs Langton’s granddaughter would like to avail herself of it then she is most welcome to do so.’

  ‘That is most kind of you,’ Jenny said, smiling. ‘There is really no need for anyone to be concerned. Our sleeping arrangements are fine and Karen most certainly isn’t a lodger. She’s merely staying with me for a few weeks’ holiday, isn’t that right, dear?’ she said, turning to Karen, who had remained silent, sipping her coffee and listening with a half-smile on her face.

  Later, when the coffee break was over and most of the residents had dispersed, Karen went over to Lionel, who was still sitting in one of the armchairs, and touched him on the arm.

  ‘That was very sweet of you to offer me the use of your spare room,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘Not at all, and the room is there if
you wish to use it.’ He fumbled in an inside pocket of his tweed jacket, brought out a Yale key and pressed it into her hand. ‘Here, this is the spare key to my flat. I want you to feel free to use the room whenever you like,’ he urged as he folded her fingers around the key and patted her hand.

  Jenny felt a mixture of annoyance and unease as she tried to catch Karen’s eye to warn her not to take the key. When she failed to do so she looked quickly round the room to see who else had noticed what had happened and was dismayed to find that Lorna Hill was taking it all in and that she had a knowing smile on her face.

  Jenny knew very little about Lorna but had heard that she was a gossip of the worst sort. She was one who listened and said nothing but then repeated what she had heard with added embellishments that often led to trouble.

  As soon as Lorna left the room, Jenny told Karen that she shouldn’t have accepted Lionel’s offer. ‘You should have refused to take the key,’ she admonished, ‘especially when you knew that Lorna Hill was listening to everything that was being said.’

  ‘Give the old bat something to think about,’ Karen said with a smile. ‘Don’t worry, Gran, they’re going to talk anyway, even if I had refused, and after all it could come in useful if you suddenly decide you’ve had enough of my company and want me out.’

  ‘That’s hardly likely to happen, my dear, as you very well know. Mind you,’ Jenny added cautiously, ‘I suppose you will want to get a place of your own soon.’

  ‘All in good time,’ Karen told her. ‘I’m still planning what to do next.’

  ‘First thing is to try to find a job.’

  ‘No, I think for the moment it is better to lie low until I hear what happened to Hadyn Trimm. The police still suspect him of handling drugs and if they take him to court he may spill the beans completely and involve me in his illicit dealings.’