Moving On

by Rosie Harris

  ‘Possibly a one-night stand while she was on the cruise,’ Edwin stated, his eyes hard and accusing.

  ‘How dare you say such a thing,’ Jenny defended hotly.

  ‘I feel sick.’ Karen clamped a hand over her mouth, stood up, and headed for the door. The solicitor hurried after her, summoning his secretary from the outer office and instructing her to take Karen to the ladies’ room as quickly as she could.

  Edwin looked at his watch. ‘I’m afraid I have to go. I’m due in theatre in an hour. If you need me or wish to discuss this matter any further you have my telephone number, Mrs Langton, so please feel free to call me.’

  ‘This is a very unsatisfactory state of affairs, Mrs Langton,’ the solicitor said sympathetically as Karen came back into the room. ‘I am afraid there is nothing more I can say or do at the moment but I will pursue the matter diligently and I’ll be in touch with you as soon as possible.’

  A sleeting rain was falling and there was a distinct chill in the air when Karen and Jenny came out of the solicitors’ office into Wallasey Road.

  ‘Shall we go to the milk bar up by the Liscard roundabout for a hot drink or to the nearest pub for a bar meal and a drink?’ Karen suggested. ‘The Boot is the nearest public house or we can go to The Wellington on the corner by Liscard Road.’

  ‘I thought you were feeling unwell, so perhaps we should catch a bus back to New Brighton and go straight home?’

  Karen shook her head. ‘I’m all right again now, except that I’m cold.’

  ‘Well, I could certainly do with something stronger than a coffee,’ Jenny agreed. ‘I feel absolutely drained, but what about you? You shouldn’t be drinking if you’re pregnant.’

  ‘It’s the pub then,’ Karen said decisively. ‘I like The Boot best because they have roaring log fires, so let’s go there.’

  It was only just turned midday so they were able to find a secluded table. Jenny ordered shepherd’s pie; Karen asked for sausage and mash with onion gravy and they both decided to have a sherry while they waited for their meal to be served.

  ‘You really shouldn’t be drinking that if you’re pregnant, Karen. Still, I don’t suppose one glass will matter too much, but you must be careful in future,’ Jenny murmured as they warmed themselves in front of the open fire before sitting down.

  ‘Stop fussing, Gran. I’m not pregnant. I thought if I said I was then Edwin would feel he had to stand by his father’s new will even though Lionel hadn’t signed it. I didn’t know the old boy had had the snip.’

  ‘You mean you’ve been telling lies about being pregnant!’ Jenny exclaimed, her eyes widening in disbelief.

  ‘I’m afraid so, and the way things have turned out it looks as though I will have to forget all about it because Edwin holds the trump card and he knows it. There’s certainly no chance of him changing his mind about his father’s estate now that he knows I’m making it all up!’

  She shrugged and took a sip of sherry, then she raised her glass in the air. ‘Here’s to a new start.’ She laughed and drained her glass.

  Twenty-Six

  Jenny couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned, sat up and took a drink of water from the glass on her bedside table, thumped her pillow into different shapes, but still sleep would not come.

  She lay there staring into the darkness, trying to fathom out where she had gone wrong in bringing up Karen.

  She’d been such a lovely baby and an enchanting toddler. She’d enjoyed school and done well in all her exams. She’d had such a promising future when she left school and started work at Premium Printers, so where had it all gone wrong?

  The question drummed in Jenny’s head like a hammer. Why had Karen become such a scheming little money-grabber? She still couldn’t believe that Karen had dreamed up such an evil plot as to tell them she was pregnant in the hope of getting Lionel’s fortune.

  Was it her fault, Jenny wondered? Had she harped on so much about money and making ends meet and saving for the future that she had made Karen so money conscious that she needed to amass money to give her a feeling of security.

  No, it couldn’t be that, because when she had given her a handsome nest egg after selling Warren Point, Karen had squandered it all. How she had managed to spend every penny of such a large sum in such a short time Jenny simply couldn’t understand. Karen had said that Hadyn Trimm had invested it on her behalf and so she assumed that meant it had all been lost when he was arrested, but now she wasn’t so sure because Karen was so devious.

  In some ways she felt relieved that Eddy wasn’t still alive to see what his daughter had become. He would have been devastated by her marriage to an eighty-three-year-old man; he would have been even more shocked if he had heard her saying she was pregnant and then found out that it was a lie.

  Perhaps though, if Eddy had still been alive Karen would have behaved differently. She had adored her father and she would never have done anything to upset him. Perhaps it was because she missed her father so much that Karen was behaving in this way. Had she been looking for a surrogate father when she married Lionel?

  Jenny was still dwelling on this aspect of Karen’s behaviour when she drifted off to sleep. It was not a restful sleep but one that was more like a nightmare. Karen was in it and although Jenny called out to her time and time again to stop what she was doing and behave herself, she continued to cavort wildly with a medley of leering and jeering faceless characters.

  Jenny was in a cold sweat when she wakened at first light. Shaking and stumbling, she went to the kitchen to make herself a hot drink to try and calm down.

  Her hand was shaking so much as she lifted up the kettle to pour the hot water into her cup that the kettle slipped. Desperately she tried to control it and in doing so the scalding water went over both her hands.

  Jenny’s agonized screams woke Karen who, still half asleep, came to see what was happening.

  She stood in the kitchen doorway staring as Jenny, screaming with pain, begged her to do something.

  ‘What do you want me to do? Shall I make you a cup of tea?’

  ‘Do something for my hands,’ Jenny sobbed. ‘Turn the tap on for me. I need cold water over them to cool them down.’

  As Karen took a bottle of water from the fridge, Jenny shouted at her to stop. ‘Not from the fridge, it will be icy cold. Turn on the tap so that I can hold my hands under the running water.’

  ‘Very well, if that’s what you prefer,’ Karen said in a sulky voice. ‘Cold water is cold water and that’s what you asked me to get for you.’

  She turned on the cold tap and then stood back. Shaking with shock, Jenny stumbled towards it. Leaning against the edge of the sink for support, she edged her hands forward.

  ‘Can you turn it down a bit? It’s coming so fast that it hurts.’

  In silence Karen turned the tap until there was only a trickle.

  ‘More than that,’ Jenny begged, tears of pain flowing down her cheeks.

  ‘Oh, make your mind up,’ Karen said crossly and turned the tap full on. The water came with such force that Jenny screamed again as it hit her hands and arms, which were already swollen and blistering.

  Realizing that Karen had no idea what to do she asked her to get help.

  ‘The concierge won’t be on duty yet so I’ll pull the emergency cord,’ Karen muttered.

  It was answered immediately, but when a remote voice asked if she needed help, Karen looked helplessly at her grandmother. Choking with pain, Jenny tried to explain what had happened and how she’d scalded herself.

  ‘I’ll send an ambulance, Mrs Langton. Meantime, cool the scalds with tepid water and then cover them with a piece of clean linen. Don’t apply any creams. Take a painkiller if you have some. The ambulance will be there in a few minutes.’

  While Jenny had been talking on the intercom Karen had refilled the kettle and made herself an instant coffee. ‘There’s still hot water in the kettle, do you want a coffee?’ she asked as she picked up her cup from the wor
ktop.

  Jenny shook her head. ‘The ambulance will be here any minute. Will you help me out of this wet nightdress and fetch me a dry one to go out in and my dressing-gown and slippers,’ she requested, wincing with pain and ignoring Karen’s question.

  ‘Yes, when I’ve finished my coffee. I want to get dressed myself first,’ she murmured as she wandered away.

  Before she returned Jenny heard the wail of the siren as the ambulance drew up outside, and seconds later there was a loud banging on her door and someone calling, ‘Mrs Langton, are you there? Ambulance.’

  Karen opened the door and let in the two paramedics. They took one look at Jenny’s scalded hands and arms and were immediately concerned, agreeing that she must be taken to hospital right away.

  ‘Have you a coat or dressing gown you can put on?’ one of them asked.

  ‘If not don’t worry, I’ll bring in some blankets when I go to get a chair to take you out,’ the other one assured her.

  For the second time Jenny asked Karen to fetch her dressing gown and slippers. This time Karen did so, but she made no attempt to help Jenny into them. Instead she handed them to the paramedic and then moved away so that he had no option but to take them and help Jenny into them.

  By this time the other paramedic had returned with blankets and special sterile wraps in which he gently encased Jenny’s scalds. Then between them they wrapped the dressing gown around her shoulders and helped her into her slippers. Although by then she was flinching with pain, they wrapped her in a blanket before carefully strapping her into a chair to convey her to the ambulance.

  ‘Are you coming with us, Miss?’ one of them asked Karen.

  ‘No point, there’s absolutely nothing I can do is there?’ she said quickly.

  ‘You will come to the hospital later, Karen?’ Jenny asked anxiously.

  Karen shrugged. ‘Perhaps. I’ll phone the hospital after I’ve had my breakfast and find out if they are going to keep you in.’

  ‘She’ll be in for a few days, possibly a week,’ the ambulance man stated. ‘Nasty scalds, and with them being on both hands she won’t be able to do very much for herself for a while.’

  It was Tom Fieldman, not Karen, who was sitting at Jenny’s bedside when she came round from the mild anaesthetic she’d been administered. Both her hands and arms were encased in dressings up to her elbows and they were throbbing painfully.

  ‘Where’s Karen?’

  Tom didn’t answer right away. ‘I heard about what happened,’ he said quietly. He looked at her arms. ‘Pretty painful I imagine.’

  Jenny made a face. ‘It is very painful and such an awkward time to happen just days before Christmas. You still haven’t told me how you knew I was in here?’ she persisted.

  ‘Someone put a note under my door. I assume it was Karen.’

  ‘I see. You haven’t spoken to her though?’

  ‘I haven’t seen her.’

  There was a silence while Jenny digested this piece of news and wondered why that was. Was Karen keeping away from everybody in Merseyside Mansions because she didn’t want to face the gossip or had she gone off somewhere on her own for the day.

  ‘Is there anything I can get you?’ Tom asked.

  Jenny shook her head. ‘Not really, but you could ask Karen to bring me in some nightwear and my clothes ready for when I can come home.’

  ‘Very well, I’ll do that.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Jenny closed her eyes so that he wouldn’t see her tears of gratitude. He was so kind and considerate, such a good friend.

  A few minutes later, assuming that she was feeling tired, Tom took his leave but not before insisting that he would come back next day. He made her promise that if they did decide to let her out and she couldn’t contact Karen then she would let him know and he’d come and collect her.

  When he did return the next day it was to report that he still hadn’t seen Karen and to ask if she had been in touch.

  ‘No.’ Jenny shook her head. ‘I feel quite worried about her. I wonder where she is?’

  ‘Have you heard when you are likely to come home?’ Tom asked.

  ‘Not for another few days; the Sister said I may have to stay here until after Christmas. It depends on how well my hands and arms have healed when the doctor looks at them tomorrow. At the moment they are very tender and I can’t use my hands. I must look an utter mess because I can’t even comb my hair,’ she added with a self-conscious laugh.

  ‘You look fine to me,’ Tom told her gallantly. ‘But even so, let’s hope it is good news and they let you come home,’ he said smiling.

  ‘Yes, that would be wonderful; apart from the fact that I have nothing to wear to come home in,’ she said ruefully. ‘I’m not sure if they will let me go home in a hospital gown and apart from that I have only my dressing gown which I was wearing when I came in,’ she added worriedly. ‘I would be very grateful if you would try and get hold of Karen and ask her to bring in my clothes.’

  ‘I will certainly do my best,’ Tom promised, ‘but if I can’t get hold of her I can always collect them for you if you give me your keys and tell me exactly what you want and where to find them.’

  The blood rushed to Jenny’s face at the thought of Tom rooting through her wardrobe and underwear drawer but she knew there was really no alternative. Reluctantly she agreed to his suggestion.

  Twenty-Seven

  Jenny was in hospital until the third of January. Tom Fieldman came to visit her every day. No one else came from Merseyside Mansions although several sent good wishes and hoped she would soon be back with them, There was no word at all from Karen, and Tom said that no one had seen her.

  ‘What a way to start 1980,’ Jenny sighed when Tom came to collect her late in the afternoon.

  Her hands and arms were now uncovered but the skin was very red and tender. She felt the bite of the cold wind as he helped her into the taxi, carefully avoiding holding her arms. After the warm cocoon of the hospital ward the real world felt cold, unreal and rather frightening, and she shivered uncontrollably.

  Tom had put the heating on in her flat before he had come to collect her and after he had taken her case through to the bedroom he came back into her lounge and insisted on making her a cup of tea before he left.

  ‘I imagine you will want an early night to give yourself a chance to get used to being home. Are you going to be able to manage to make yourself a meal? I have stocked up your fridge for you; it was completely bare,’ he added.

  ‘It was fully stocked when I left.’ Jenny frowned. ‘Karen must have been here after all. Are you sure she isn’t still here? She could be in Lionel’s old flat. Would you mind checking for me, Tom?’

  He returned a couple of minutes later to say that he had knocked several times but there was no reply.

  ‘I’ll phone Edwin, he may know where she is.’

  ‘Would you like me to do it for you?’ Tom offered, his hand reaching out for the receiver.

  ‘No, it’s all right. I can manage to do that. You’ve done quite enough for me. One way and another I have taken up most of your day.’

  ‘That’s of no importance,’ Tom assured her. ‘I’ll leave you now because I expect you want to get an early night. You are probably feeling quite tired.’

  Jenny smiled gratefully. ‘That’s true and thank you once again for all your help.’

  ‘I’ll look in tomorrow morning to make sure you are all right,’ Tom told her. ‘If you want a lie-in then, if you have a set of spare keys, I can come and make you breakfast and you can have it in bed.’

  ‘Thank you but I am sure I will be able to manage. Karen has my spare keys, I’m afraid.’

  Before she went to bed Jenny telephoned Edwin, but all he could tell her was that he’d asked Karen to vacate the flat the week before because he had managed to sell and the new owner wanted to move in over the Christmas holidays.

  ‘I don’t think they have done so; Tom Fieldman went to see if Karen was there and there was
no answer when he knocked on the door.’

  ‘They’ve moved their belongings in but they said they would be spending Christmas and New Year with their son,’ Edwin told her. ‘They’re a very nice couple, I’m sure you’ll like them,’ he added airily.

  ‘So you have no idea where Karen is; she didn’t say where she was going?’ Jenny pursued.

  ‘Sorry, I’ve no idea at all. I shouldn’t worry, I’m sure she is well able to look after herself.’

  She didn’t expect to sleep at all, but as soon as she put the phone down she undressed and went to bed. The next thing she knew was that the cold January sun was sneaking in around the edges of the curtains.

  It took Jenny a few minutes to gather her wits together and remember where she was. Almost at once her thoughts went to Karen. Where was she, what had happened to her, why had she not made contact or even enquired about her all the time she’d been in hospital?

  She felt too worried to stay in bed any longer. Carefully, she washed and dressed and made her breakfast. It took much longer than usual. She found her movements stilted and painful. When she lifted up the kettle she felt sharp needle-like jabs of pain run up her arms, and fresh spasms when she tried to cut her slice of toast in half.

  Tom called at ten o’clock and found her in tears. She tried to brush them aside but the feeling of helplessness that assailed her refused to go.

  ‘Come on, put your coat on, we’re going out for a coffee. You need to get back into the real world and you’ll never do that moping around in here,’ he said firmly.

  As they made their way through the reception area several people came up to them to ask how she was. To her surprise they seemed to be genuinely pleased that she was home again and most sympathetic about her accident. None of them mentioned Karen.

  Over the next couple of weeks Jenny made splendid progress thanks to Tom’s constant attention and care. He shopped for her and made her meals but he also left her to get on with her life in her own way.