by Kitty Neale
Alison did her best to welcome her niece, showing her where David slept and where he kept his toys. June was delighted and started making up a story for her baby cousin, so Linda sighed with relief. The two sisters went into the kitchen, and hugged. Alison couldn’t help crying again. Then she felt bad because Linda was so heavily pregnant and she didn’t want to upset her further.
‘I went round to see Mum before I came here,’ Linda said, ‘but she just seemed to want rid of us.’
‘She was the same with me, but that isn’t surprising. You know how she doesn’t really like to be in the same room as me, even now.’ Alison knew it was true – even though she’d done as her mother wanted, married Fred, produced a grandson, and been a constant source of top-quality free food, her mother still didn’t enjoy her company. Cora was beginning to be more understanding of Alison, now she was a mother herself, but it didn’t change how she reacted to her youngest daughter. ‘Also, she probably did need to sleep after the shock of it all. I’m worried about her though.’
‘I’d better go round there right now,’ said Linda. ‘I won’t take June this time. If she’s all right, we can both go over there later and stay there. June’ll be all right here, won’t she?’
‘Of course,’ said Alison. ‘She can get to know her cousin and get used to what babies are like. I can show her how he takes his bottle – that’ll be useful for her to learn. If Mum still wants to be on her own you can both stay here, there’s plenty of room.’
‘Thanks.’ Linda hugged her again and then set off, the sound of her daughter’s voice floating out from the baby’s room. She didn’t say goodbye. She felt she needed all her emotional energy to face what was to come.
Rounding the corner of Ennis Street, she could see a big removal van pulled up opposite Cora’s house. She stopped to see what was going on, and found herself face to face with one of the women from down the road who she’d known since she was a girl. ‘It’s Linda, isn’t it?’ said the woman, eagerly turning bright eyes on her. ‘Come to see your mum, I expect? Terrible business. Do give her my condolences. Just as well that lot are going.’ She nodded towards the van.
‘What! Is that for the Parrots?’ asked Linda. ‘Are they moving house?’
‘Gone already,’ said the woman, ‘and more’s the pity they ever came here in the first place. This lot are just collecting their stuff. Won’t say where they’re going, but they aren’t wanted round here, that’s for sure.’ She sniffed and drew her threadbare cardigan around her. ‘We won’t see no more of them.’
Linda didn’t know what to think. She had liked the Parrots, but now that their son had killed Hazel she never wanted to see them again.
‘I’d better see how Mum is,’ she said. ‘Don’t let me keep you.’
She turned and stood at her old front door. Now that she had her lovely new house in Kent this one seemed even shabbier, with its tired, peeling paintwork and narrow window facing directly onto the street. She noticed the curtains were still firmly shut. Usually there would be a twitching of the nets, but not today.
She knocked and tried the door. It was locked. She hadn’t brought her own key, and cursed her lack of forethought.
‘Mum, it’s me. Linda. Open up, will you?’
A minute passed.
‘Come on, Mum, I’m dying for a cuppa. Let me in and I’ll put the kettle on.’
It was another few minutes before she heard a shuffling on the other side of the door and then it opened. Cora drew her in and shut the door behind her firmly again, and she found herself in the gloomy front room, the only light coming from the kitchen at the back.
‘I was sleeping,’ said Cora. ‘It’s all I seem to be able to do.’ She sighed. ‘Good of you to come, Linda, but I’m all right, as you can see.’
Linda couldn’t see very much at all, but strode through to the kitchen and took out two cups. ‘You’ll be glad of some tea, then, to wake you up a bit. I know I will.’
Now that she could see her mother properly she thought how gaunt she was. Her eyes were dead, her skin was slack, and she was hunched over like a woman twice her age. No wonder Alison was worried. ‘You had anything to eat, Mum? Alison said you had some food in.’
‘Spying on me, is she?’ snapped Cora. ‘None of her business. If I feel like eating then I’ll eat. Don’t you go talking about me behind my back.’
Linda took out the milk and sniffed it. ‘This is off, Mum. You can’t drink this. I certainly can’t.’ She picked up her bag again. ‘I’ll run to the corner shop and get more. Here, bung the tea cosy round the pot and it’ll do for when I get back. Do you want anything else? What about some bread?’
‘No thanks.’ Cora wouldn’t look at her.
Linda dashed out, turning her gaze away from the lorry that was now nearly full of the Parrots’ belongings.
It took longer than she’d planned as she kept bumping into people who knew her and who wanted to talk. By the time she got back, the tea was cold. Cora complained as she set about making more. ‘It’s a waste, that’s what it is. I don’t need no tea. I’m all right as it is.’ She stopped and glanced suspiciously at her daughter. ‘You didn’t talk to no one, did you? They all want to know what went on but I ain’t telling them nothing. And did you shut the door tight? I won’t have that family,’ she almost spat, ‘them lot opposite looking in here. To think I thought of them as friends. Just goes to show.’
‘Mum, they’re gone. There’s a dirty great lorry out there taking everything away and they’ve gone already.’
Cora pursed her lips. ‘You sure? You aren’t havin’ me on?’
‘Honestly, Mum. Why would I lie?’
Cora seemed to come to her senses. ‘Thank God for that. I couldn’t stand to see any of their ugly faces ever again. To think they were all smile, smile, smile and they brought up that murderer, that killer, that bastard what did for our lovely Hazel.’ At the name she stopped and broke down, great heaving sobs shaking her tiny body. ‘Our Hazel. Who never did no harm to anyone. That beautiful girl. So pretty, especially at her wedding – to that bastard.’
Linda hugged her mother as best she could against her bump, thinking it was probably a good thing that she cried. ‘That’s right, Mum, you let it all out. Here, have my hanky. You don’t have to worry about them now, they’ve gone. You can open those curtains and let some light in.’
‘No.’ Cora sat upright, her sobs subsiding. ‘No, I don’t want any of them nosy busybodies looking in here. You mind you keep them shut. They want entertainment, they can go elsewhere.’
‘Mum, that’s not fair. People are worried about you. Everyone’s asking after you.’
‘I hope you told them to mind their own business.’
‘Mum, come on. People are concerned.’
‘Well, I don’t want their concern.’ Cora slammed down her cup. ‘I’m doing very well on my own without any help from them, thank you very much. I won’t be no laughing stock for them. You can tell them that when they ask.’ Tea sloshed over the kitchen table. Linda went to wipe it up.
‘I’ll tell them no such thing, Mum. You need good neighbours at a time like this.’
‘Neighbours? What good have they done me? I thought them lot opposite were friends, see how wrong I was then. No, they can all keep off. I won’t have them interfering.’
Linda sat back and took all this in. She supposed it was still the shock talking, as this wasn’t like her mother at all. ‘Don’t suppose you’d like to come and stay with us for a bit, until it all calms down?’
Cora immediately shook her head. ‘Thanks, Linda, but no thanks. I belong here. This is where … I feel closest to Hazel. I don’t want to be away. You got your own life down where you are. My life is here.’
Linda felt slightly relieved at this. She didn’t know how she’d cope with her mother in this mood as well as settling June into the new nursery and the last stages of her pregnancy. She hadn’t discussed it with Terry either. ‘Well, how about I go and collec
t June from Alison’s and then we both stay here tonight? I can make up the beds and everything.’
Cora stiffened. ‘No, no, don’t do that. I don’t want her to see me like this. She’s at an impressionable age, I don’t want her to think of her old granny in a state like this.’ She sighed. ‘Linda, I know you mean well but I’d rather be on my own. I’m closer to Hazel then, can’t you see? I don’t want no one around. And you can stay with Alison, can’t you? God knows she’s got enough room in that grand flat.’
Linda shook her head. ‘I’d rather stay with you here. June can stay there, she loves it with David. But I’d be happier with you, to make sure you’re all right.’
Cora’s eyes blazed. ‘I keep telling you I’m fine. I’m telling you again. And I want to be on my own, is that clear? I don’t want help from you or anyone else.’ Cora reared to her feet. ‘Just go will you. I want to be left in peace to grieve for my Hazel.’
Chapter Forty
Terry waited on the platform for the train from London. He knew Linda didn’t have much to carry after only one night away but with June and the bump, he wanted to be there to meet her. Nervously he chewed on a thumbnail. He’d noticed a black van just outside the station car park, but hadn’t got close enough to check the number plate. Relax, he told himself. There are hundreds of vans like that. He’d heard no more from Vincent over the past couple of days but didn’t fool himself that this meant he was off the hook.
The train pulled in and Linda waved as June ran to meet him. He scooped her up and she laughed in delight. ‘I saw baby David and played with him,’ she said. ‘I helped give him his bottle. Auntie Alison said I was very good at it.’
‘Did you?’ he said, tickling her and making her squeal. ‘So when your little brother or sister arrives, you’ll know exactly what to do.’
Linda raised her eyebrows. ‘We’ll see about that.’
‘How was your mum?’ he asked her.
She shook her head. ‘I’ll tell you later. June had a lovely time, didn’t you, Junie? Saw how a nappy gets changed and everything.’
June wrinkled her nose. ‘I didn’t like that bit.’
‘I know what you mean,’ said Terry, setting her down. ‘Here, walk like a big girl. Only big girls can give babies their bottles.’ He lifted the small overnight case and headed out of the station, past the car park.
June pointed. ‘Look, there’s that van.’
Terry’s blood ran cold. ‘What van’s that? There are lots of vans.’
‘That black one. It was outside my old nursery where they all got sick.’
‘You must have made a mistake,’ he laughed, as the van’s engine purred into life.
‘No, it’s the letters,’ June said, skipping along the street. ‘I didn’t tell you I knew them, it’s my secret. But look, it’s A for Alison, F for Fred and D for David, just like baby David. So I remembered, it’s easy.’
It was the same number plate.
The engine purred to life, and trying not to panic, Terry looked round. The van began to move towards them. He tried to see who was behind the wheel. He was pretty sure it was Vincent.
It started to speed up. It was heading straight for them.
Terry threw the case to the ground and shoved Linda and June into the nearest doorway as hard as he could, shouting ‘Sorry, stay there’, but with no time to explain. The van carried on aiming for him. It was only half a block away. He knew he had to draw it away from his wife and daughter but had no time to think of how he could save himself. It was hard to believe that Vincent was prepared to run him over right outside a busy station and yet it seemed that this was exactly what was going to happen. Terry ran, his legs pumping and his heart pounding with fear.
There was a small side road coming up and he darted into it at the last minute, giving the van driver no warning of what he was doing. What Terry knew, and he was banking on Vincent not knowing, was that there was a newly installed massive concrete bollard in the centre of the narrow street, stopping it being used as a rat-run. Everything depended on it being big enough, and solid enough, to stop the speeding van. If it wasn’t then that would be the end of him.
The setting sun was full in Terry’s face, and as the van screeched around the corner, it must have blinded the driver who, unable to see the obstruction ahead, hit the bollard head on. There was a sickening crash, the sound of metal crunching, and Terry froze in his tracks. Heart still pounding, he ran back to look through the windscreen. The driver was slumped over the steering wheel, blood pouring from his face and head where he’d hit the windscreen. But it was the eyes that held Terry. They were open but lifeless, and he knew the man was dead.
Time seemed to stand still but then Terry could hear screaming. To his dismay Linda had followed him and she was staggering towards him, holding her arm. June was cowering behind her, shielded by her mother’s body. ‘I’m hurt, I’m hurt,’ gasped Linda. Terry thought he was going to be sick. But he tried to summon words of comfort. ‘There, you’re going to be fine. Junie’s all right, aren’t you? She’s safe behind you.’
‘I didn’t know what was happening … why you pushed me into the doorway … I wanted to see where you’d gone … and that van clipped me.’ Linda was having trouble speaking. ‘I nearly fell, I banged my head on something. Maybe a wall. My arm … I can’t feel it properly. Oh God, what about June, I didn’t realise she’d come after me …’
Terry kept on talking, trying to calm them down, trying not to think of what might have happened. That van really had been out to kill him. If it hadn’t been for the way the sun was setting …
Gradually he was aware that people had come out of the houses that surrounded the station. Somebody must have called for help as finally ambulances arrived. Linda was escorted into one of them, tearful now, worried about her husband and daughter. ‘We’re fine,’ Terry assured her. ‘You caught the worst of it. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.’
‘Not your fault,’ she whispered.
But Terry knew that it was.
Linda was kept in overnight and when Terry went in the next day, the doctor took him to one side. ‘We want to keep her in,’ he said. ‘The arm will heal as long as she takes care of it but her blood pressure is very high. That’s not good in her condition. Has she been under stress lately?’
‘Her sister just died,’ Terry said shortly. He couldn’t face explaining the full circumstances of Hazel’s death. ‘So there’s that and she’s worried about how her mum’s taking it.’ He still didn’t know exactly what had happened in Battersea but he’d seen enough from Linda’s expression when she got off the train to understand that it must have been an ordeal.
‘That might be it, then.’ The doctor pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘We’ll have to see, take it day by day. She’s better off staying here for the time being. You can visit her for a few minutes but don’t tire her out.’
Terry felt a lump in his throat. Here was his wife, coping with the murder of her sister, her mother’s collapse, and a pregnancy, and he’d put her in danger from a criminal who’d tried to kill them all. What had he been thinking of? He carefully made his way to her bed on the ward and drew back one of the curtains around it. She looked up at him, her dark hair spread out on the pillow, and smiled weakly. It was the loveliest smile in the world.
‘I won’t stay long,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘Just checking you’re all right.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’m sure the doctor told you it’s just a bit of blood pressure.’
‘Yes, he did and they want you to rest.’
‘Terry, what happened? Why was that van trying to run us down?’
‘Don’t be daft, love. Of course it wasn’t,’ Terry lied. ‘The brakes failed and the poor sod of a driver couldn’t stop.’
Linda managed a smile. ‘The brakes. I should have realised. I’ve got too much of a vivid imagination, that’s the trouble. Terry, I want to come home.’
‘You can’t, not at the moment. You�
��ve had a bit of a shock and they want to keep you in until your blood pressure comes down.’
He squeezed her hand as he told the lie. ‘You have a proper rest and June and me’ll look after the house for you. She’s in charge.’ He tried to raise a smile.
‘I was worried about Mum,’ Linda whispered. ‘I asked her to come down here for a bit but she wouldn’t. Just as well. I couldn’t have her now, if I’m stuck in here.’
Terry closed his eyes for a moment. That had been a narrow escape. He realised he was safe now; it had been reported that Vincent had died in the crash and he was the only one who knew Terry’s name or what his family looked like. There was no need to worry any more.
‘She’s not on her own,’ he said. ‘Alison’s there, she’ll keep an eye on her. You concentrate on getting better. Keep that baby safe. I love you very much, you know.’ He swallowed hard. ‘I just want you to be all right. You’re my world, you are.’
‘I know. And you’re mine.’ Her voice was very quiet and he could tell she was about to fall asleep.
‘See you tomorrow.’ He dropped a kiss on her forehead and backed away from the bed, faint with guilt and relief.
Chapter Forty-One
Alison fell into a routine over the following weeks of working in the shop for most of the day, with David in the back room where she or Fred could go to him if he needed anything. In the afternoon she would go round to her mother, taking her something to eat, but it was always a struggle to persuade her to open the door. She was more likely to shout ‘Leave me alone’ through the letterbox. On the occasions when she did manage to set foot inside the house, Alison was horrified to find that her mother had completely let things go. The once-immaculate front room was a shambles, with dust gathering, bits of clothing strewn over the furniture, and mouldy cups left on the side table or shelves.
