Family Drama 4 E-Book Bundle

by Pam Weaver

  ‘Hello, Lucy,’ Pearl said. ‘How is Bessie?’

  ‘Her chest seems really bad and she insisted that I ring you.’

  ‘She’s probably got bronchitis again,’ Pearl said, thinking that despite it looking a bit washed out and home made, Lucy looked nice in a floor-length, high-necked, Laura-Ashley-style floral dress. Her hair was a halo of frizzy blonde Afro curls, the result of a home perm, yet they framed her pretty, delicate features and the style suited her.

  ‘I sent Nora along to the chemist to pick up Bessie’s medicine,’ Lucy said. ‘I think she can manage that.’

  ‘Yes, of course she can,’ Pearl assured. Bessie had taken Nora in many years ago, and though mentally slow, there were things she could cope with. ‘I’d best go up, Lucy, but I’ll have a chat with you again before I leave.’

  As a customer came in Pearl went through to the back of the shop and climbed the stairs. She passed the first floor where there was a living room, kitchen, bathroom and Nora’s bedroom, going on up to the top floor where she walked into Bessie’s room.

  It was dim with the heavy, dark blue curtains partially drawn, but Pearl could just about make out that Bessie was propped up in bed on a pile of pillows. Her grey hair, though short, was untidy and her face lined with wrinkles. ‘Are you awake?’ Pearl asked softly.

  ‘Yes, and it’s about time you got here,’ Bessie croaked. ‘I’ve got to be dying before you come to see me.’

  Pearl felt a twinge of guilt. Though she hadn’t lived with her for long, they had grown close and Bessie would always hold a special place in Pearl’s heart. When she had moved away from London, Pearl kept in touch with frequent phone calls, and Derek would sometimes pick Bessie and Nora up after visiting his gran and he’d bring them back to Winchester for the afternoon. ‘Bessie, you know why I don’t like coming to Battersea,’ she said. ‘Now tell me, how are you feeling?’

  ‘Rough, but open the curtains so I can get a better look at you,’ Bessie said then coughed painfully.

  Pearl let in some light before drawing a rickety chair close to the bed. ‘You shouldn’t be up here on your own at night. I don’t know why you won’t let Nora sleep in the room next door.’

  ‘Leave it out. She snores like a trooper. Even with the door shut, I’d hear her.’

  ‘Oh, and you don’t?’ Pearl said wryly while rearranging the blankets. ‘Have you seen the doctor?’

  ‘Yes, but a fat lot of good that’s gonna do,’ Bessie croaked when another fit of coughing ended. ‘I think me number’s up this time.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. You’re going to be fine.’

  Despite the reassurance, Nora suddenly gripped Pearl’s hand, saying urgently, ‘I want you to promise that if I don’t pull through, you’ll take care of Nora. Don’t worry, you won’t lose out financially, I’ve seen to that.’

  ‘Of course I’ll look after her, but this is just another bout of bronchitis and it won’t be necessary.’

  ‘Promise me, Pearl. You’ve got to promise me,’ Bessie pleaded.

  ‘All right, I promise,’ Pearl said, thinking that though Bessie was being overdramatic, it might be best to placate her.

  ‘Thanks, love,’ Bessie said, releasing Pearl’s hand and sinking back on her pillows. ‘I can rest easy now.’

  ‘Is this why you wanted to see me?’

  ‘Yes. I don’t suppose John’s with you? The only time I get to see him is when we come to Winchester.’

  ‘You know why I don’t bring him to Battersea.’

  ‘No matter how much you try to hide it, the truth has a way of coming out,’ Bessie warned.

  ‘John is too young to cope with it yet. Maybe when he’s older, but even then it’s going to be an awful shock.’

  ‘I know you regret the day you married Kevin Dolby, and if you remember, I tried to warn you against him,’ Bessie said, but then she doubled up in another fit of coughing.

  ‘Your chest sounds terrible. If you’d stop smoking it would help.’

  ‘After thirteen years of nagging me, you might as well give up. Anyway, I’m nearly eighty years old now and it’s too late.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Of course it isn’t.’

  ‘Bury your head in the sand if you must, but now you’ve promised to take care of Nora it’s eased my mind. You’re settled with Derek, and though you all live with your mother, which isn’t ideal, it’s plain to see how happy you are. Your son is a lovely boy and one of the few people who doesn’t mock Nora.’

  ‘He loves her, Bessie.’

  ‘I know, and she adores him, which is another reason why I know Nora will be fine when you take her on. When I go, you’ll find a box under the bed with my papers in, and when you sort my things out you’ll find a nice little cache of stuff to help you out.’

  ‘I wish you’d stop talking like this.’

  ‘I’m just putting me affairs in order, that’s all. Now enough said, so how about making me a cup of tea?’

  ‘Yes, all right, and can I get you anything to eat?’

  ‘No, thanks, a fag and a cuppa is all I want.’

  ‘Oh, you and your cigarettes,’ Pearl said wearily, sad that all her years of nagging Bessie to stop had come to nothing. She went down to the kitchen, pleased to see it sparkling with cleanliness. Bessie was hopeless when it came to housework, but it was one of the things Nora excelled at. Without even thinking about it Pearl had agreed to take Nora on if anything happened to Bessie, but now she realised that it would pose a rather large problem. They shared her mother’s two bedroom cottage, and with her mother in one of them and John in the other, she and Derek already had to sleep in the front living room. That just left the kitchen, which fortunately was a large one, and a small conservatory which now served as a sitting room. As Pearl was pouring the boiling water into the teapot, Nora appeared. She was short, plump, with a round face and straight, light brown hair. Though her eyes often appeared vacant, Nora was usually cheerful; yet this wasn’t the case now.

  ‘Bessie really bad this time,’ Nora said woefully.

  ‘She’ll be all right,’ Pearl said kindly. ‘You’re doing a wonderful job of looking after her.’

  Looking tearful, Nora shook her head. ‘No, Bessie not get better.’

  Nora’s words sent a shiver along Pearl’s spine, but despite that she managed to sound reassuring. ‘Of course she will. Did the chemist give you her medicine?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, holding it out.

  ‘Good girl, and now you can take it up to her,’ Pearl said as she regained control of her feelings. Like Bessie, Nora had the strange ability to predict the future – but surely she was mistaken this time?

  ‘All right, I give to Bessie,’ Nora agreed.

  As Pearl waited for the tea to brew, she decided that as always Nora was just being overly anxious, as she was every time Bessie got a bout of bronchitis. She wasn’t predicting the future. Bessie would get over it. She always did. She was a tough old bird and would probably live long enough to get a telegram from the Queen.

  Bessie dutifully swallowed her medicine, but she knew there was nothing now that could help. She smiled fondly at Nora, but it did nothing to soothe the girl’s anxiety. Instead Nora looked as she had for the past week, pale and tearful.

  Like her, Nora knew of course, sensed that the end was in sight and Bessie’s heart went out to her. How long had it been since she’d taken the girl in? Girl, no, Nora wasn’t a girl – she was forty-three now and they’d muddled along together for thirteen years.

  With a sigh, Bessie closed her eyes as her mind drifted back to 1957. Both Pearl and Nora had been like waifs and strays then, both needing her sanctuary and help. When Pearl had to get away from the Dolbys she had nowhere else to go, and Bessie recalled how she’d felt compelled to take her in. However, she had also sensed that Pearl wouldn’t be with her for long. On the other hand, as Nora’s mother had been admitted to a home with senile dementia, she had known that taking Nora on would become a permanent arrang
ement.

  Bessie opened her eyes again to look at Nora, forcing a smile to alleviate her fears. It was odd that Nora could predict too, almost as if they were meant to be together, and over the years Nora had become like the daughter that Bessie had never had, a woman who remained like a child, capable of some tasks, yet so vulnerable. There was one thing that Nora feared, and that was change, but Bessie had now taken steps to ensure that all that was familiar to Nora would remain.

  With a croak in her voice, Bessie said, ‘Thanks for fetching my medicine, love.’

  ‘I look after you,’ Nora said gravely.

  ‘You certainly do,’ Bessie agreed as the door was pushed open and Pearl appeared carrying a tray. ‘It’s about time. I thought you’d gone to India to hand-pick the tea leaves.’

  ‘Very funny,’ said Pearl.

  With a small, elfin face, Pearl had a delicate look about her, but Bessie knew she was stronger than she appeared. She was very fond of Pearl, and with no family of her own left Bessie felt there had been no choice – no other way to secure Nora’s future. Even so, she felt a twinge of guilt at the burden she was going to lay on Pearl. Would she agree to the conditions of the will?

  Bessie longed for reassurance, for a glimpse of the future, but her second sight failed her.

  Derek left the old people’s home, pleased to see that his gran was still happy there. At seventy-nine she had women of her own age to talk to and obviously enjoyed joining them in putting the world to rights.

  His gran certainly hadn’t been happy when he married Pearl, and it hadn’t helped that he’d moved to Winchester. Despite all the years that had passed and all his attempts to persuade her, she still stubbornly refused to have anything to do with Pearl, though it didn’t stop her from complaining that she was the only one in the home who couldn’t brag about having great-grandchildren. He’d tried over and over again to tell her that he saw John as his son, but his gran refused to recognise him as such. It saddened Derek that he and Pearl hadn’t had children, but despite the pleasure of trying, it had never happened.

  Battersea High Street was still busy, the market stalls doing a brisk trade, and for a moment Derek envied the costermongers their camaraderie. He had once had a pitch himself and there were a few men he’d known still working the stalls; one of them waved as he got out of the car, but mostly it was strange faces.

  Pearl looked worried as they left Bessie’s and after popping upstairs himself to say hello to the old girl, he understood why. ‘She looked a bit rough, Pearl.’

  ‘I know, and thank goodness for Lucy. She’s been cooking meals for them both, and though Nora manages to do most things for Bessie when she’s ill, she can’t use the telephone. I’ve asked Lucy to ring me again if she thinks I’m needed.’

  ‘Lucy’s a nice girl,’ Derek commented and as always as he drove off he felt a pang at leaving Battersea. He liked Winchester, but this area would always feel like home to him. He knew they would never come back, never live here again … but a man could dream, couldn’t he?

  A mother must fight to protect all she holds dear …

  About the Author

  NOBODY’S GIRL

  Kitty Neale was raised in South London and this working class area became the inspiration for her novels. In the 1980s she moved to Surrey with her husband and two children, but in 1998 there was a catalyst in her life when her son died, aged just 27. After joining other bereaved parents in a support group, Kitty was inspired to take up writing and her books have been Sunday Times bestsellers. Kitty now lives in Spain with her husband.

  To find out more about Kitty go to www.kittyneale.co.uk.

  Author’s Note

  Many places and street names mentioned in this book are real. However, others, and some of the topography, along with all of the characters, are just figments of my imagination.

  There’s Always Tomorrow

  Pam Weaver

  There’s Always Tomorrow

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to David, my husband, my lover and

  my best friend, who never stopped believing in me.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  One

  Dottie glanced at the clock and the letter perched beside…

  Two

  When at last Dottie walked outside into the cool night…

  Three

  Mary Prior’s niece sighed. ‘Nobody’s coming yet.’

  Four

  It was cool in the shed. Reg pulled the orange…

  Five

  Dottie didn’t finish at the house until late. She was…

  Six

  Reg was in a good mood when he arrived back…

  Seven

  Saturday August 25 was indeed what the papers called ‘a…

  Eight

  Billy didn’t have the energy to run all the way…

  Nine

  It was quarter to ten when Dottie finally got home.

  Ten

  ‘You’re very quiet today, Dottie.’

  Eleven

  It was a mad rush to get the tea ready…

  Twelve

  Mrs Fitzgerald was out. She’d left a note on the…

  Thirteen

  Dottie decided not to argue with Reg about Sylvie’s length…

  Fourteen

  Late the following Friday afternoon, Dottie was drumming her fingers…

  Fifteen

  By the time Dottie, Sylvie and Michael’s mum, Edna, arrived…

  Sixteen

  Sylvie had taken Dottie to a hotel in the centre…

  Seventeen

  Michael’s wedding day dawned dull and overcast. Dottie slipped out…

  Eighteen

  The reception finished at around ten and everyone, with the…

  Nineteen

  Dottie woke with a start. The bright moonlight had waxed…

  Twenty

  Was her period late?

  Twenty-one

  ‘People will think we’re off to another wedding,’ Dottie joked…

  Twenty-two

  Patsy was in bed. Dottie poured herself a cup of…

  Twenty-three

  Janet Cooper climbed into the window of her tobacconist-cum-sweet-shop and…

  Twenty-four

  When Dottie came downstairs on Thursday, her black eye was…

  Twenty-five

  Reg hadn’t come home last night.

  Twenty-six

  It was Sunday, the day Dottie and Patsy were due…

  Twenty-seven

  When she woke next morning, Dottie was alone once again.

  Twenty-eight

  There had been a heart-stopping moment when Reg had looked…

  Twenty-nine

  ‘Who’s there?’ The light from the kitchen made the person…

  Thirty

  It was proving to be difficult trying to contact Sylvie.

  Thirty-one

  The whistle went, bringing to an end the last playtime…

  Thirty-two

  The clock on the mantelpiece said 2.20am and Dottie was…

  Thirty-three

  John Landers couldn’t sleep. He stood at the window of…

  Thirty-four

  By the time Ann had raced downstairs and grabbed her…

  Thirty-five

  After a full English breakfast, Reg suggested that Patsy and…

  Thirty-six

  The whole bungalow smelled musty and damp. The windows were…

  Thirty-seven

  Mary listened open-mouthed as Ann told her what had happened…

  Thirty-eight

  When John walked into the Jolly Farmer that night, a…

  Thirty-nine

  As soon as the man spoke, it was so obvious,…

  Forty

  ‘As a matter of fact, we do have someone fitting…

  Forty-one

  Kipper got the call just before he was going off…<
br />
  Forty-two

  ‘May I remind you that you are here purely as…

  Forty-three

  ‘If you ask me, they’ll do her for attempted murder,’…

  Forty-four

  ‘It’s all gone!’

  Forty-five

  John opened the car door.

  Forty-six

  They reached Mary’s house just as the baker’s boy was…

  Forty-seven

  The first flurry of snow began as they drove out…

  Acknowledgements

  Read an Extract from Pack Up Your Troubles

  About the Author

  One

  Dottie glanced at the clock and the letter perched beside it. It was addressed to Mr Reg Cox, the stamp on the envelope was Australian and it had been redirected several times: firstly ‘c/o The Black Swan, Lewisham, London’, but then someone had put a line through that and written ‘Myrtle Cottage, Worthing, Sussex’, and finally the GPO had written in pencil underneath, ‘Try the village’.

  Australia … who did they know in Australia?

  She picked it up again, turned it over in her hands. Holding it up to the light, she peered through the thin airmail paper at the letter inside. Of course, she wouldn’t dream of reading it. It was Reg’s letter – but she couldn’t help being curious.