Megan of Merseyside (29 page)

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Authors: Rosie Harris

BOOK: Megan of Merseyside
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He ran a hand through his dark hair in exasperation. ‘I thought that was because she was still upset about what happened to young Lynn.’

‘What are we going to do?’

‘Let her sleep it off, I suppose. There’s nothing else we can do.’

‘I mean in the future, Dad?’ She looked up at him, pleading with him to take control of the situation.

‘I don’t know, I just don’t know,’ he answered grimly.

Megan put her arms around him. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll see it through,’ she whispered as she hugged him. Even as she spoke she felt she could take no more. Her new job was so demanding that she felt drained, and now this added burden was just too much.

‘We’d better go downstairs, Robert will be wondering what’s happening,’ Watkin said dully.

It was Robert who suggested a specialised clinic.

‘Wouldn’t that be terribly expensive, Robert?’ Watkin frowned.

‘Don’t worry about that, Dad, I’ll pay,’ Megan said quickly.

‘I don’t want your money, girl,’ he snapped. ‘She’s my wife. I’ll pay whatever it costs.’

‘She’s also my mother,’ Megan reminded him quietly.

‘Settle it between you some other time,’ Robert told them. ‘I think she should go into one of these places as soon as possible. I’ll make some enquiries?’

He’s doing it again, Megan thought angrily, biting her lip to keep from saying anything. She knew he was only trying to help, but she wished it wasn’t always Robert who found the answer to their problems.

A week later, Kathy Williams was undergoing a course of treatment in a special clinic near Maghull.

‘My mother’s on holiday,’ Megan told neighbours when they remarked that they hadn’t seen her about.

The house seemed empty without her, and, once again, Megan used work as a palliative. On the
nights
she visited her mother, rather than journey home to Wallasey and then have to go back again to Liverpool, Megan stayed late at the office.

Her late stint three nights a week had been going on for over a fortnight when Miles walked into the office unexpectedly.

‘Heavens! I … I thought it was a burglar,’ she gasped.

‘What is there here worth stealing … except you?’ he asked, putting an arm round her shoulders. ‘You’re not giving me the brush off, are you?’ he muttered as she shrugged free. His hand caught at her chin, forcing her face up until he was looking into her eyes. Before she realised his intention his mouth was on hers, his lips demanding.

Angrily, she fought him off, her eyes blazing.

‘Leave me alone, Miles. Get out of here … out of my life!’

‘You seem to forget this is my company and I’m the one who gives the orders,’ he retorted in a surly voice. ‘No one, certainly not you, tells me to get out of my own office.’

‘In that case, I’ll be the one to leave.’ With icy calm, although she was shaking and her knees felt like jelly, Megan picked up her coat and handbag.

‘You needn’t come back again,’ he snarled. ‘It won’t do you any good to go running to my father tomorrow, either. I’ll make sure he hears my side of the story tonight!’ he added furiously.

With an effort she retained her composure, although her heart was pounding and she felt sick. His shouted threats that he would ruin her reputation and make quite sure she would never get
another
job in Liverpool rang in her ears as she hurried out of the building.

Miles’ face, distorted with rage, haunted her as she went to visit her mother. As she remembered the ugly twist to his mouth and the callous look in his eyes, she wondered how she had ever considered him handsome or thought she’d been in love with him.

He was right about one thing, though: there was no longer any place for her at Walker’s. The strain was too much; she wouldn’t be going back.

Once she had made that decision, Megan felt almost calm. It was as if she had freed herself from bondage. Miles no longer had any hold over her, she told herself. Tonight had proved that the feelings she had once had for him really were dead.

Chapter Twenty-nine

MEGAN’S HEART SANK
as she turned into Belgrave Street the Sunday she brought her mother home and saw a familiar Rolls Royce parked outside their house.

As she pulled up in front of it and stepped out of her own car, Mr Walker lowered the window of the Rolls and called out curtly, ‘Megan, I need to talk to you. I want to know what is going on. Miles tells me you’ve left.’

‘Yes … that’s right … I have.’

‘You can’t just walk out, Megan! Not without some kind of explanation,’ Mr Walker exclaimed angrily.

‘I am sure Miles has already given you one,’ she retorted sharply.

‘He has. Miles said there was some sort of dispute over the way the accounts were being handled and that you lost your temper and told him you were leaving. Is that true?’

Megan shrugged her shoulders dismissively. It was the sort of face-saving lie she would expect Miles to make.

‘Well, Megan, is it?’ He tugged the points of his waistcoat assertively.

‘I’ll leave you to draw your own conclusions.’

They stared angrily at each other for several
seconds
. She was conscious that his face had become florid and his breathing laboured.

‘It doesn’t really matter what the argument was about.’ He sighed impatiently. ‘What I really want to know is when can we expect you back in the office?’

‘I’m not coming back,’ she told him firmly. ‘And I really can’t talk about it now, Mr Walker. I’ve just collected my mother from hospital, I can’t leave her sitting in my car any longer.’

‘I realise you must have a great deal on your mind at the moment,’ he conceded, ‘but do give it some thought. If Miles was at fault, or you decide you can’t go on working with him, then we’ll make whatever changes are necessary. You are the one person I can depend on, Megan. The firm needs you and it would be a pity to waste all your expertise.’

‘I’m afraid I have nothing further to say,’ she told him as she walked round to open the passenger door of her own car and help her mother out.

Tight-lipped, Megan assisted her mother inside the house and closed the front door. She stood there with her back pressed against it, breathing hard, trying to regain her composure as she heard the Rolls purr into life and drive away.

‘What was all that about?’ demanded her father coming into the hallway. ‘Walker coming here himself! He said you hadn’t been into the office all week! Don’t you think it is time you told me what is going on, Megan?’ he insisted as he took Kathy’s arm and led her through into the living room.

‘I will, Dad … later. Right now Mam needs a cup of tea and she doesn’t want to be worried by silly things like this.’

Later that evening, after Kathy had been settled for the night, Megan told her father the whole story.

‘Now do you understand why I’m not going back, Dad?’

‘Of course I do.’ He sighed deeply. ‘I have a feeling that’s not the end of the matter, though. Something tells me there’s more trouble brewing.’

‘What do you mean?’

He stared at her in exasperation. ‘Mark my words, Miles Walker is bound to do something to get his own back.’

Megan hoped her father was being unduly pessimistic. She didn’t think that there was very much that Miles could do since she was no longer at the office.

She pushed the entire matter to the back of her mind and concentrated on nursing her mother back to full health. The treatment at the clinic had been highly beneficial. Kathy was now eating and sleeping well, and even putting on a little weight. Her cheeks had regained some of their former roundness and her grey eyes had lost their dull, apathetic look.

Megan had helped her sort through her wardrobe and to smarten herself up. She eventually managed to persuade her to go to the hairdressers and, as a result, she was almost looking like her old self again.

She had changed considerably, though. She was quieter, more withdrawn, as if she’d moved into
a
realm of her own. She spent a lot of time out in the garden, sitting there lost in thought. She didn’t even question why Megan was at home all day.

When neighbours stopped to talk, Kathy chatted readily enough, but she would never ask them in for a cup of tea, or visit them, no matter how often they invited her to do so.

Megan wished she would. She couldn’t stay at home for ever. Even though her dad was earning good money, she preferred to be independent and wanted to start looking for a new job as soon as possible. She was afraid, though, that once she left her mother on her own all day she might slip back into the morass of despair she had been in before. She might even start drinking again, although she had neither taken a drink, nor asked for one, since she had returned home from the clinic.

A month later, when Megan thought it was safe for her to start looking for work, the next blow fell.

She was putting the finishing touches to the evening meal, and listening for her father’s key in the lock, when Robert arrived. Megan thought he looked upset about something, but her immediate concern was how she could stretch the meal so that it would be enough for four people instead of three.

As she went through into the kitchen to put another plate to warm, Robert followed her. ‘I’ve bad news, Megan,’ he said, closing the door and standing with his back against it.

‘Oh?’ She turned to look at him, alarm in her deep brown eyes. Robert was still in his working
clothes
, which meant he must have come straight from the docks without going home to get changed.

‘Miles has had your father arrested.’

‘He has done
what
?’ she gasped, her voice shrill.

‘Ssh! We don’t want your mother to know! Leastwise, not yet.’

‘But why has he been arrested … what for …?’ She shook her head in bewilderment.

‘There was a fire last night at the Walkers’ home in Wales,’ Robert told her grimly. ‘Miles Walker has accused your father of being responsible.’

‘What utter rubbish.’ Megan laughed. ‘Dad was here all evening.’

‘The police say that
Plaid Cymru
is responsible and Miles claimed that he suspected Watkin of being a member. Even if he can’t prove that your father actually set fire to their place, Miles will still accuse him of having persuaded his
Plaid Cymru
friends to carry it out.’

‘This is outrageous! He’s never been involved in any politics.’ Megan slammed shut the oven door and whipped off her apron as she spoke. ‘I’m going to see Miles Walker right now … and his father … and the police.’

‘No! Wait, Megan.’ Robert barred her way. ‘There’s nothing to be gained from losing your temper or upsetting your mother.’

‘So how are we going to explain why my dad hasn’t come home for his meal this evening?’

‘I’ll tell her he’s out on a job and will be away overnight. Tomorrow, if they don’t release him, we may have to tell her the truth. Take it step by step, we don’t want to upset her more than is necessary.’

‘And in the meantime my dad has to spend the night in a police cell!’ Megan fumed.

‘Megan.’ He seized her shoulders, looking directly into her eyes. ‘We both know he’s innocent, but we won’t convince the police of that by flying off the handle. We’ve got to think it through carefully, decide the right approach and above all keep calm.’

‘And say nothing to my mother until we know what is happening unless it is absolutely necessary.’

‘Exactly! We musn’t let her see the evening paper, there’s a piece in there about it. And tomorrow, of course, it may be in some of the daily papers.’

‘We?’

‘Yes, Megan, we. Your father has been a good friend to me and I shall stand by him no matter what happens.’

Megan returned Robert’s steady gaze for a long moment. Then, with a sigh that shuddered through her, she collapsed against him, burying her head against his broad chest.

He held her close, stroking her dark hair, murmuring words of comfort. He had never felt so full of anger towards anyone as he did towards Miles Walker. He was prepared to accept that Lynn’s death had been an accident, something that could happen to anyone. It was what Miles had done to Megan that he found so unforgivable. To promise marriage knowing he intended to marry someone else, to turn from her when she was pregnant and desperately needed his support, were both despicable acts in Robert’s eyes.

He knew he was probably prejudiced because of his own feelings for Megan. The thought of Megan as his wife was still a dream he indulged in from time to time. Whenever he did, he ended up feeling bitter because she had turned down his offer of marriage and resentful that she could love a rogue like Miles Walker but have no time for him.

If only she had accepted his offer of marriage, he thought morosely. If she had, then you’d have been lumbered with Miles Walker’s little bastard, and how would you have felt then? he asked himself scornfully. But even that would have been bearable if Megan had been his, he told himself.

He had helped her then and he was determined to help her again now. Perhaps one day she would recognise the fact that she couldn’t manage without him.

Megan spent a sleepless night planning what she would do next. When she took her mother’s breakfast up to her, Megan suggested she might like to have a lie-in.

‘I have to go out,’ she told her. ‘I may not be back until around four o’clock. Shall I ask Mrs Pinter from next door to pop in around lunchtime?’

‘Certainly not! Why should I want to see Mrs Pinter? You go and do what you have to, don’t worry about me. What time did you say your dad would be home?’

‘I didn’t … Robert wasn’t sure what time he would be back. Anyway, don’t worry. I’ll be home before him … I expect. There’s some cold meat so make yourself a sandwich at lunchtime.’

When she reached the office in Old Hall Street, Megan gave only the briefest of greetings to Olive and Mavis. Myra Thornton tried to stop her but she brushed her to one side without any explanation and walked straight through to Mr Walker’s office with Myra following on her heels.

Miles and his father were both there. Mr Walker was sitting in his high-backed leather chair, his hands resting on the polished walnut desk in front of him. He was in earnest conversation with Miles, who was sitting facing him. Miles was chewing his lower lip as he listened to what his father was saying.

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