Peppercorn Street

by Anna Jacobs

  ‘Janey Dobson?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Police here. Can we come up?’

  ‘Just a minute.’ She ran across to the window to check and saw a police car there. She went back to the intercom and pressed the entry button. ‘I was just checking that you really were the police. I’ve opened the front door. I’m in Flat 3, on the first floor.’

  She went to the door, still holding Millie, and saw two police officers and a woman in a grey suit coming up the stairs, looking very solemn. This made her feel nervous. Who were they? What did they want with her?

  She didn’t invite them in, but stood squarely in the doorway. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘Can we come in?’

  ‘Could I ask why?’

  ‘Because you’ve been accused of theft,’ the woman officer said.

  Janey could only gape at her. ‘Theft? I’ve never stolen anything in my life.’

  ‘It really would be better if we came in.’

  She nudged the door open and closed it after them. ‘I’m just changing my daughter’s nappy, so I’ll have to finish doing that. I can’t leave her half dressed.’

  ‘It’s not very warm in here,’ the woman in grey said.

  ‘I don’t keep it like a greenhouse. I read that it’s not good for babies to be brought up in a hothouse environment, then go out into the cold winter air.’

  The woman looked surprised but didn’t give in. ‘Where would you have read that?’

  The scorn in her voice made the female police officer stare at her.

  Janey raised her chin defiantly. ‘In the book the health visitor gave me about looking after babies and toddlers.’

  The woman looked surprised. ‘You’ve seen a health visitor, then?’

  ‘Of course I have. I met her at the practice.’ Something made her add, ‘When I went to register,’ rather than mentioning that Millie had been ill. ‘She came round here to see me and said I was doing well.’ Deftly she finished changing the nappy, wrapped her daughter up warmly but kept Millie in her arms, because she felt less alone that way.

  Perching on the arm of the couch, she waited for them to speak, sure this was some stupid mistake. What a horrible way to start the day, though!

  Instead the policeman walked across to her computer. ‘How long have you had this?’

  ‘I had it when I lived at home and Dawn from Just Girls persuaded my parents to let me have it again, so that I can do my study assignments.’

  ‘What study assignments?’ the grey woman asked sharply.

  ‘At the college. I’m going to finish my A levels.’ Why did the woman look so surprised?

  ‘What about the printer? And the spare cartridge?’ the policeman asked.

  ‘The courier brought them with the computer last night, so presumably my parents sent them.’

  ‘When did you leave home?’

  ‘Eight months ago. My parents threw me out when they found I was pregnant.’

  ‘Why was that?’

  Janey was beginning to feel seriously worried now. This was more like an inquisition than a mistake. What did they really want? ‘I can’t see how that’s relevant to your visit. Look, all you have to do is contact my parents and they’ll confirm that they gave me my computer back.’

  ‘They’ve already said that they gave you back the computer, but it’s your father who reported the printer and cartridge missing, presumably stolen.’

  She was unable to speak, so shocked was she by this.

  It was the woman officer who came up to her. ‘Why don’t you sit down properly, Miss Dobson? You’ve gone white as a sheet.’

  She let herself sink into the armchair. ‘I can’t believe what you’re saying. There must be some mistake. The computer and printer were delivered here by a courier last night.’

  ‘Which courier service?’

  Her mind went blank, then she admitted, ‘I don’t know. I was just so pleased to have them back, I signed the piece of paper and the guy went away.’

  ‘There has also been a suggestion that you’re not capable of caring for a baby properly,’ the woman in grey said. ‘Which is why I’m involved today. I’m from the council.’

  That was when terror came to sit inside Janey because she knew it was him, reaching out to hurt her again. He’d have told her father what to do to get her baby taken away from her. He’d said he didn’t want her to keep it and bring it up in the town he lived in. It could cause too many complications if it looked like him or his other children.

  What was she going to do?

  At about nine-thirty in the morning, Kieran saw the police arrive and with them a woman he’d met before, a council official who had treated him like a criminal for getting injured by one of the council vehicles, even though it’d been driven by a driver who’d forged his large vehicle licence and had a few other accidents. And when Kieran had dared to claim compensation, she’d seemed to take it as a personal affront.

  What the hell was she doing here? She was one of the nastiest people he’d ever met.

  He went out into the hall and heard the words, ‘Because you’ve been accused of theft’ echo down the stairwell from above. Theft? That nice young lass? Never.

  It was none of his business so he went back inside his flat, but as the minutes passed and the police didn’t leave, he began to wonder whether Janey might need help. If it was something that could have been easily cleared up, they’d have left by now. And theft didn’t explain why Miss Bossy Britches was there with the police.

  Janey seemed so alone and everyone needed help sometimes. He’d seen no one except officials go up to her flat, no people who might be friends or family. If he hadn’t had his brother there during the blurred nightmare time after the accident, he didn’t know how he’d have stood up for himself, let alone fought for the compensation he richly deserved for the injuries that had ruined his life.

  Uncertain whether to get involved, he went out into the hallway again, then gave in to the urge to interfere. If he wasn’t wanted, she could always tell him to leave, after all. Limping up the stairs, he cursed under his breath at the stabs of pain this caused.

  But it was the pain which carried him forward, reminding him how innocent people could be stamped on – by chance, as he had been, or on purpose by people like Bossy Britches.

  He didn’t even hesitate but knocked loudly on the door of Flat 3.

  The conversation inside stopped but no one came to answer it. Then, just as he was about to knock again, the girl opened it, looking so young and scared his heart went out to her.

  ‘Is something wrong, Janey?’ he asked, seeing how white and strained her face was.

  ‘Yes. They’re saying I stole something, and I didn’t.’

  ‘Do you need a friendly witness to this conversation?’

  ‘Would you really do that? Yes, please.’ She held the door open.

  Old Bossy Britches sucked in her breath audibly at the sight of him. ‘What are you doing here?’

  He smiled at her and raised one hand, waving his fingertips mockingly. ‘Lovely to see you too. I thought my friend Janey could do with a little support. Three against one is pretty poor odds, don’t you think?’ Was it his imagination or did the policewoman give him a quick, approving nod?

  ‘This matter is no concern of yours, Mr Jones,’ Bossy Britches snapped.

  ‘When my friends are upset by bureaucracy, of course it’s my concern. What exactly is the problem?’

  When they’d explained, he couldn’t hold back a disgusted snort. ‘I never heard such a specious reason for accusing someone of theft in my whole life. However, as it happens, I can back up some of Miss Dobson’s claims. Since I live on the ground floor, I see all the comings and goings in this block of flats. A courier did arrive late yesterday evening and carried up several boxes.’

  ‘Did you see the printer?’

  ‘No, of course not. I saw a courier bring in several boxes.’

  ‘She could still have gone
back home and stolen that printer,’ Bossy Britches insisted.

  He waited for the police to protest this assumption and when they didn’t, he said calmly – he could always keep calm when dealing with an issue, however angry he got afterwards, ‘Where do her parents live?’

  ‘On the other side of Swindon.’

  ‘Well, there you are. She doesn’t have a car. That’s got to be at least twenty miles away from here. How would she get there and back with a baby in its buggy? Anyway, I saw her coming and going several times yesterday, so I know she didn’t have time to get the bus into Swindon and back.’

  ‘That’s as may be, and will be fully investigated, but there is another, much more important complaint, that she’s a negligent mother. We shall need to establish how well that child is cared for. Such claims are extremely serious, can be a matter of life or death for an infant of that age.’

  ‘Who has made this claim?’

  ‘Confidential information.’ She turned to the male police officer. ‘I think for the child’s sake, we’d better take it into protective care temporarily till we can make sure of the facts.’

  Fury rose in him but the woman police officer spoke while he was still trying to rein in his anger.

  ‘I’ve two children of my own and I’d say that this baby is very well cared for, Miss Stevenall. I’ve been watching carefully how Miss Dobson deals with her daughter and how the child looks. It’s quite clear to me that she loves the baby and though she had no warning of our visit, the baby is clean and well clad, and the flat’s clean, too.’

  ‘All the same—’

  ‘You can ask the health visitor about what sort of mother I am,’ Janey blurted out. ‘Her card’s on the mantelpiece.’

  The woman officer went to get it. ‘Sally Makepeace. She was my health visitor too, after I had my second son. I’d trust her word absolutely. I’ll phone her straight away. We don’t want to upset anyone unnecessarily, do we? And a baby can get very upset when taken away from a loving mother.’ She whipped out a mobile phone and dialled the number, waiting impatiently, foot tapping.

  Kieran saw tears rolling down Janey’s cheeks even though she held her head up defiantly, except when she bent to murmur soothing nonsense to her daughter. If ever a mother loved a child, that one did, he thought angrily. What was it with Bossy Britches? Did she enjoy adding to the misery of people in trouble? Didn’t she recognise love when it hit her in the eye … or did she have some ulterior motive for getting at Janey? He couldn’t think what, but he’d seen far stranger things during his twenty years as a journo.

  He’d find out what lay behind this, though. He was good at doing that. And it’d give him an interest, the sort of interest that used to be his raison d’être.

  After a short conversation, the policewoman snapped her phone shut. ‘The health visitor is convinced that even though she’s so young, Ms Dobson is a capable and loving mother, but she’ll keep an eye on the situation. I’ll contact Dawn Potter later about the computer pickup.’

  ‘She’s gone away for a few days, but someone else at Just Girls may be able to help you,’ Janey said.

  ‘Fine. Thank you for your co-operation, Miss Dobson. We’ll leave you and your daughter in peace now.’

  Kieran watched Bossy Britches hesitate, glare at Janey as if she’d done something wrong and follow the police officers out. He shut the door after them with a bang and said what he’d been thinking, ‘Who’s got it in for you?’

  She closed her eyes for a moment, then said, ‘My father made the complaint. And he has a friend in the police force.’ She shuddered at the thought of him. ‘I’d guess they hatched this between them.’

  ‘Why on earth would they do that?’

  ‘My father hates me.’

  ‘There must be more to it than that.’

  She shook her head, ‘I’d rather not say any more.’

  ‘You know something else, though, don’t you?’

  She nodded. ‘But I daren’t tell you. Believe me, sometimes it’s better to let sleeping dogs lie.’

  ‘But this particular dog isn’t sleeping, is it? It’s trying to bite you.’

  ‘Nonetheless, I can’t say anything.’

  ‘Or you daren’t.’ When she bent her head avoiding his eyes, he knew he’d hit the bullseye.

  For the first time since his accident, Kieran felt fully alive. ‘We’ll talk about that again. You look like you need a bit of peace and quiet now.’ He saw a piece of paper and scribbled his phone number on it. ‘If they come back, if anyone at all hassles you, give me a call and I’ll come straight up.’

  She took the paper from him. ‘I’m grateful for your help, really I am, but I can’t understand why you’re doing it. You hardly know me. And you have your own problems.’

  ‘I used to be an investigative journalist, then a damned stupid accident nearly ended my life. Until tonight I’ve been stumbling along, thinking my useful life was over. You can see how difficult I find it to get around now. But suddenly, because of this incident, I’m feeling alive again. It might seem strange logic to you, but I’m really grateful to have something to get my teeth into, something to prove that I can still help the underdog.’

  ‘It’s very kind, but I don’t want you investigating this. Please. It’s best to … let things go. It’s not worth provoking him.’

  ‘I’ll do nothing to hurt you,’ he said soothingly, moving towards the door. Who the hell was this person she was so afraid of? Not her father, he felt sure. ‘Will you be all right now?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Then I’ll go back to my flat.’

  She went with him to the door, balancing her baby on her hip as if Millie was part of her. The baby was rosy and happy, reaching out towards him, smiling and showing a couple of half-grown teeth. Bad mother, indeed!

  ‘If you’re an investigative journalist, why are you living in subsidised accommodation like this? Have you run out of money?’

  He grinned. ‘On the contrary. My very capable lawyer brother got me an excellent compensation payout, then helped me invest it carefully, which included buying this block of flats. We didn’t know then whether I’d ever be able to walk again, so I kept the largest flat for myself, on the ground floor, and the others provide me with a decent income.’ He’d chosen to offer them as subsidised accommodation because he knew how often people in need were given substandard places to live. His brother said he was an idealist and could have got far more in rent, but he’d lived his whole life by a certain set of standards and he wasn’t going to stop now. Anyway, he didn’t need more money, had plenty put aside from his work before the accident.

  ‘Oh, I see. I’m glad for you.’

  ‘I’d be grateful if you’d keep that information to yourself. I’ve got the place managed, because I don’t want to deal with the day-to-day collecting of rent and that sort of thing. Actually, I don’t want the other tenants even knowing I’m the owner, because they’ll run to me whenever things go wrong.’

  ‘That’s why you knew who to phone about the washing machine – and why they hurried to repair it!’

  ‘Right first time.’

  ‘OK. I won’t say anything. And Kieran – thank you. I was panicking when you turned up.’

  ‘Never panic. Keep calm and fight back.’

  He found himself whistling as he made his way slowly and carefully down the stairs. Janey reminded him of his little sister, who emailed him more regularly than he emailed her. On that thought, he went to the computer and sent off an email to her.

  Then, because he realised he’d not bothered to fix himself a proper breakfast, he made himself some cheese on toast and munched an apple while he waited for it to grill.

  Perhaps he might manage on a smaller dose of painkillers today? Maybe adrenaline helped keep pain at bay.

  Whatever. The world suddenly looked a brighter place.

  Chapter Eight

  In the afternoon, when Margaret came to pick her up and take her to the coll
ege, Janey immediately asked, ‘Did the police contact you about the courier?’

  ‘About the printer? Yes. I gave them the details. You look … upset. Are you all right?’

  ‘I don’t know. Someone has claimed that I’m a bad mother and a horrible woman from the council wanted to take my baby away.’

  Margaret stared at her in shock. ‘What?’

  Janey explained what had happened and Margaret’s expression grew grim. ‘That Stevenall woman is a constant thorn in our flesh. She doesn’t like amateurs like us doing social work, or council money being spent on people in need. If she tries to take your baby again, you must phone me or Dawn. Here. This is my private mobile number. And this is Dawn’s. Call us any time, day or night. Don’t give the numbers to anyone else, though. We only hand out these cards in emergency situations.’

  ‘Thanks. I’m grateful, not only for this but for all you’re doing.’

  ‘You’re doing things, too. You’re looking after Millie beautifully. And it’s good to see someone taking advantage of the other chances offered to her. What sort of student were you before this happened?’

  ‘I used to get good marks,’ she admitted. Well, she’d not have dared do other than her best with her father ready to jump on her for the slightest thing.

  ‘I’ll come into the interview with you, if you don’t mind. I won’t interfere, but I’ll hold Millie and back you up if necessary.’

  ‘With a bit of luck, she might go to sleep in the buggy. She often has a nap at this time of day.’

  They had to wait ten minutes at the college, then were shown into an office and a man interviewed Janey. Only it felt more like a friendly chat.

  ‘We’ve got your records from school and you were doing very well till – this young lady happened.’ He smiled at Millie, who was fast asleep. ‘Bad timing, eh?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘It’s good that you want to go back to studying. What do you plan to do after the A levels?’

  ‘I wanted to go to university to study English before. Now, I’m not so sure. I still want to go to university, but I want to do something more practical that’ll help me earn a decent living as Millie gets older.’