Family Betrayal (31 page)

Chapter Thirty-five

 

When Pet awoke in a strange room the following morning, for a moment she was disorientated, but then it all came flooding back: her father's death, her mother's hate, the police turning up, and Danny – Danny blaming her, threatening to kill her. Tears stung her eyes, but then, hearing the sound of giggling, she forced them away as her door was thrown open.

Harry and Ernie tumbled into the room. ‘Auntie Pet, Auntie Pet, are you getting up?’ Ernie urged.

‘It looks like it,’ she said, throwing back the covers. It was still dark outside and she had no idea of the time, but if the boys were awake, it must mean that Ivy and Steve were up too. ‘Let me get dressed and then I'll come downstairs.’

‘Yeah, all right, but don't be long,’ Ernie cried, his eyes alight with excitement. ‘It's snowing again, Auntie Pet, and Mum said that as soon as it's light we can build a snowman. Will you help us?’

‘Of course I will.’

‘Yippee,’ Harry shouted, the two boys scampered out.

Pet went to the bathroom and after a quick wash she threw on some clothes before running downstairs to find the boys and Ivy in the kitchen. It was a nice room, far bigger than the kitchens in Drapers Alley, with an oak table and chairs in the centre and a large dresser against one wall, lined with blue willow-pattern china.

‘Morning, love,’ Ivy said. ‘Help yourself to a cup of tea, and what would you like for breakfast?’

‘I don't mind. Anything will do,’ Pet said, reaching out for the teapot as she sat at the table.

‘The boys usually have something hot and they want beans on toast this morning. Will that do?’

‘Yes, and thanks. Where's Steve?’

‘He's gone to work. I know it's Sunday, but the livestock still need sorting out. He's got Christmas Day off, but that's all.’

Pet paused in the act of pouring a cup of tea. She could see that Ivy was in pain, but obviously making a supreme effort to hide it. Pet frowned, sure that this was more than cramp. Ivy looked ill, really ill, and now putting the teapot down, she rose to her feet.

‘Ivy, sit down. I want to make myself useful so I'll cook the breakfast.’

‘There's no need.’

‘Please, you took me in and it will make me feel better if you let me help.’

For a moment Ivy hesitated, but then she sat at the table, her hands clutching her stomach. ‘All right, I won't say no. You'll find bread in the bin and beans in that cupboard over there.’

Pet opened the cupboard and frowned. It was dirty inside, very dirty. She took out the beans before turning to Ivy. ‘Where's the tin opener?’

‘In that drawer,’ she indicated.

The cutlery drawer was dirty too, some knives and forks still showing remnants of food. She found the tin opener, her eyes involuntarily meeting Ivy's as she turned.

‘I know, Pet, I know,’ she murmured. ‘The housework is getting on top of me, and I'll be glad of your help. If you ask me, your turning up will prove to be a godsend.’

Pet frowned, wondering what Ivy meant, but saw that Harry and Ernie were still, listening to the conversation. ‘Right, boys, one piece of toast or two?’

‘Two, please,’ they chorused.

Pet found a saucepan, unable to help noticing that though the kitchen appeared clean on the surface, inside every cupboard it was a different story. Something was very wrong with Ivy, she was sure of it, and if her cousin wouldn't tell her
what the problem was, she'd ask Steve. In the meantime she would do all she could to help Ivy, starting with the breakfast.

Chris left Phil's house and as he passed Arding and Hobbs, he glanced in the windows at their Christmas displays. Chris sniffed, fighting his emotions. It was going to be awful, the first Christmas without his father, and unless his mother let him back in, he'd be without her too. He could have stayed where he was, but Phil was constantly nagging about bringing their relationship into the open and it was driving him mad. He couldn't do it – couldn't face his family's reaction. If they found out they would never understand, and not only that, locally he'd be a laughing stock.

At last, his feet feeling like blocks of ice, Chris turned into Drapers Alley, fumbling for his key, but as he tried to turn it in the lock, it wouldn't move. His mother must have put the catch down, but as she was alone in the house he wasn't surprised, so lifting the door knocker, he rapped several times.

When she didn't come to the door he lifted the letter box, calling, ‘Mum, come on, open up. It's bloody freezing out here.’

Through the narrow gap he could see that she was sitting by the fire, but she didn't move. ‘Mum. Come on. Open the door!’

‘What's going on?’ Danny called from next door, his head poking out of an upstairs window.

‘It's Mum. I can see her through the letter box, but she won't let me in.’

‘Is she all right?’

‘I dunno,’ Chris called, bending down to peer through the letter box again. He frowned, standing up to call out, ‘She ain't moving.’

‘Hold on, I'm coming down.’

In what felt like moments, Danny was beside him, thumping loudly on the door. ‘Come on, Mum, open this door.’

With a tut of impatience he too peered through the letter box. ‘Yeah, I can see her, but you're right, she ain't moving.’ His brow creased with anxiety and then, lifting the letter box again, he shouted, ‘Mum, if you don't open this door I'm gonna kick it in.’

The door opened, their mother glaring at them as she spat, ‘Don't you dare kick my door.’ She stood in front of them, arms folded across her chest to bar their entry.

‘Come on, Mum, let me in,’ Chris urged.

‘I don't want you in my house, any of you. My daughter is the only decent child I've got, but you threatened her, Danny, and now she'll never come home.’

‘We'll find her, Mum, we'll put it right. She didn't grass on us, I know that now.’

‘She didn't? What makes you think that?’ Chris asked.

‘I'll explain later,’ Danny told him.

‘Mum, what about my stuff?’ Chris urged. ‘I need clean clothes.’

‘All right, you can come in to pack, but then, until you find Petula, I don't want to see your face again.’

Chris stepped inside and when his mother slammed the door in Danny's face, he said, ‘Mum, come on, there's no need for that.’

‘Just get your stuff and then get out.’

‘Can't we at least talk about it?’

‘I don't want to talk. I just want to see the back of you. Now either you go upstairs to pack, or you get out now.’

With a sigh Chris went up to his room. With his mother in this mood there was no point in arguing with her, but surely in another twenty-four hours she'd come round. He packed a case, and with his dark suit over his arm he returned downstairs. ‘I'm going now, Mum.’

‘Good.’

‘I don't like leaving you on your own.’

‘Find my daughter and I won't be. Now go on, bugger off.’

His head low, Chris left and went straight to Danny's house, saying as he went in, ‘There's no talking to her.’

‘We'll just have to find Pet.’

‘She could be anywhere, Danny, and with your threat hanging over her head, she'll be keeping her head down. But what's this about her not grassing on us?’

‘As Yvonne pointed out, Pet didn't know about our place in Wimbledon so it couldn't have been her.’

‘Bloody hell, but if she didn't, who did?’

‘I don't know, but my first guess is Jack Garston.’

Chris knew he'd have to kip down in Danny's for now, but uppermost in his mind was Jack Garston. He'd find the bastard, and when he did …

Maurice arrived at nine thirty and got the same reception. His mother opened the door, told him to bugger off and then slammed it in his face. He didn't really want to see Danny, but there were things to be sorted that couldn't wait. He went next door to find that Bob and Chris were there, the pair of them sitting on Danny's sofa.

‘Mum wouldn't let me in,’ Maurice said as he took a seat by the fire.

‘She won't let any of us in, and she chucked Chris out,’ Danny told him, going on to relate all that had happened when they returned from the police station.

Maurice's breath wheezed in his chest. ‘So, it's all out in the open. No wonder she wouldn't let me in.’

‘What about Norma? Did you tell her that we were taken in for questioning?’ Bob asked.

‘No, I just said that I spent the day with Mum.’

‘What excuse did you come up with for leaving the alley?’

‘None, and I don't intend to. Just the threat of us coming back is enough to shut her up.’

‘My Sue knows all about it and instead of doing her nut, she took it well. Yvonne knows too, ain't that right, Danny?’

‘Yes, she does. Maybe you should tell your wife, Maurice. It's bound to come out sooner or later and it'll be better coming from you.’

Maurice wanted to spit in Danny's face, but hid his feelings. ‘No, Danny. I know Norma, and if she finds out it'll be the end of my marriage. We're in the clear; we're not involved in making films any more, so as long as I keep her away from the alley, there's no need to tell her.’

‘What about Dad's funeral? We can tell Sue and Yvonne to keep their mouths shut around Norma, but we can't say the same for Mum.’

‘I'll come alone.’

‘How will you manage that?’

‘I doubt Norma will want to come, so it won't be hard.’

‘How are you managing for money?’ Danny asked. ‘I've still got a fair bit saved, and I'll get a job after Christmas.’

‘What about the yard?’ Bob asked. ‘Dad has probably split it between us, so even if you don't want to join us in running it, you'll still be entitled to a share of the profits.’

‘I haven't given Dad's will a thought,’ Maurice lied, ‘and anyway, until it's read, we won't know how we stand.’

‘Yeah, well, none of us have mentioned it to Mum yet. She's been in such a state that we decided to leave it until after the funeral.’

‘Look, forget about the will,’ Chris said impatiently. ‘You seem to have forgotten that we've got to find Pet.’

Danny nodded. ‘Yes, Chris is right, and as I told Bob earlier, it wasn't Pet who grassed on us. I reckon it was Jack Garston, but now Pet thinks I'm after her and I feel like shit.’

Maurice frowned. ‘I doubt it was Garston. If word got out that he's a grass, he'd be finished. Not only that, Garston had no reason to dob us in. We're out of the game now and he knows it.’

‘Yeah,’ Bob said, ‘Maurice is right.’

‘All right, so it wasn't Garston,’ said Danny. ‘We'll just have to find out who it was, and then sort him out, but for now we need to put our heads together to find Pet.’

‘What about her friends? She could be with one of them,’ Bob suggested.

‘I know where one lives, a girl called Jane, but that's all,’ Chris said.

Danny rose to his feet. ‘Right, let's start there.’

‘Do you mind if I leave you to it?’ Maurice asked. ‘I'm still a bit rough and the cold weather really gets to my chest.’

‘Yeah, go on home. We can manage,’ Danny told him. ‘I'll just pop upstairs to tell Yvonne what we're up to, and then we can leave.’

‘I'll tell Sue,’ Bob said, saying goodbye to Maurice before he hurried out.

Maurice turned to Chris. ‘If Mum doesn't change her mind, you could move into George's place.’

‘No, I don't fancy that. Too many memories,’ Chris said.

Maurice frowned at his cryptic reply, but then Danny came downstairs, wrapped up against the cold in his camel coat and carrying brown leather gloves.

‘Right, let's go,’ he said.

As they walked outside snow was falling and Maurice shivered. He said a hasty goodbye, calling to his brothers that he'd see them the next day before hurrying out of the alley to his car.

Maurice drove off, his mood low. He'd told his brothers that he hadn't given his father's will a thought, but it wasn't true. In fact he was disappointed that they were waiting until after the funeral to read it.

On Lavender Hill, the traffic lights turned to red. Maurice pulled up automatically, his mind hardly
on the road. Since leaving the alley he'd been constantly worried about the future, but on hearing of his father's death the burden had lifted. He would receive an inheritance, and had mentally calculated the business assets. There was the yard and the small-holding in Wimbledon, both worth a lot of money. They could be sold, the money shared, and his worries would be over.

Maurice gripped the steering wheel, fighting off feelings of guilt. Yes, he was sad when his father died, but since having two strokes and coming home from hospital, his mother had guarded him so well that Maurice had hardly seen him. It had saddened him that his father had been left helpless, half alive, a shadow of the man he used to be. When he had stopped holding the reins of the family business, it had gone to pieces, and most of that had been down to Danny. The distance from his family had given Maurice time to think, for his resentment to build. It had been Danny's ambitions, his obsession with making money that had put Oliver at risk, forcing Maurice to leave the alley. He had managed to hide his feelings this morning, but just looking at Danny sickened him.

Once he had his inheritance, Maurice was determined to start a new life, somewhere where there was no chance of Norma ever finding out about his past. If it wasn't for his health, they could have emigrated, but they could still move to the other
end of the country, maybe Devon or Cornwall, where they could buy some sort of small business, a tea shop or one selling souvenirs. They might never be rich, but he would be his own boss without the worry of finding employment. He wouldn't miss Danny, though he'd miss the rest of the family, but once away from London he would never have to worry about losing his wife and son again.

Danny, Chris and Bob were propping up the bar in a local pub, all drinking shorts. They had been to see Jane, but the girl said she hadn't seen Pet and didn't know where she was. She had given them a couple of other addresses to try, but again they drew blanks.

‘That's it then,’ Bob said. ‘We've been everywhere, and put out the word, but nobody's seen her.’

Danny downed his third whisky. ‘She can't be walking the streets in this weather. Somebody must have taken her in.’