Peppercorn Street (10 page)

‘You’ve got better hearing than me. Oh yes, it is them.’

They both went outside and the police examined the tyres.

‘We’ll report this but I doubt we’ll find out who did it,’ one of them said. ‘Unless you have any known enemies?’

His tone said he was joking, but she suddenly remembered how Paul had warned her to watch her back. She hesitated, then said, ‘My older son is very angry at me because I’ve just left home. No, surely it can’t be him!’

‘Has he done anything else to upset you?’

‘Well, he came into the library and made a scene because I wouldn’t give him some money. He said it was for food, but he asked for far more than he needed to buy a snack.’

‘Ah. Would that be William Gainsford? I thought your surname was familiar. He’s the son you’re talking about? We’re the ones who took him in for questioning.’

She nodded, feeling sick at the thought of her son doing something like slash her tyres. Surely, surely, it couldn’t be him!

‘We’ll keep an eye out for him. In the meantime, is there anywhere else you can leave the car?’

She shook her head. ‘There’s only this open parking space, though I shall take my car to work from now on during the daytime. We have a fenced car park for staff there. But at night, well, I’ve no choice but to leave it here.’

Kieran, who’d been standing quietly to one side, took a step forward. ‘You can share my garage, if you like. It’s a double one and there’s only my car in it at the moment. I’m about a hundred metres down the street.’

She was startled. ‘Are you sure? You hardly know me.’

He shrugged. ‘I happen to believe neighbours should help one another.’ He turned to the police. ‘I live at number twelve, flat one.’

‘Will the owner let a non-resident use the garage?’

‘I am the owner.’

They nodded and one of them said to Nicole, ‘It sounds like a good offer to me, Ms Gainsford. I can vouch for Mr Jones being an honest citizen. I used to read his column in the newspaper all the time.’

‘You’re
that
Kieran Jones!’ she exclaimed. ‘Why, I used to read your column too.’ To her surprise, he blushed at her compliment. She hadn’t expected that reaction from a man of his reputation, a man who’d won major awards for his journalism, and smiled at that. ‘You should be very proud of what you’ve done to make the world a better place, Kieran.’

He shrugged. ‘I do my best. So … you’ll take the garage?’

‘Yes. I’ll have to call someone out to fit new tyres first,
but if they can do that tonight, I’ll put my car into your garage straight away.’

‘We’ll be leaving, then,’ one of the officers said.

Kieran moved towards the door, too, and she felt sorry to see him go, had been enjoying their conversation.

‘Just ring the doorbell for flat one when you come, Nicole. I don’t go to bed till late.’ He walked slowly away down the street.

She remembered now reading about his accident and how he’d nearly lost his life. It had certainly left him with a bad limp and he looked as if he was in pain when he moved.

How kind of him to offer to share his garage with her! She’d have to insist on paying him something. It was only right.

But no one could come and replace her tyres till morning so she used the phone number he’d given her to say the car would have to stay where it was until the next day.

Janey was just coming back down the hill from the park when she met the old lady from the big house, struggling along with a wheeled shopping bag, trying to balance another shopping bag on top of it.

On an impulse she stopped. ‘Could I help you with that? I could easily put your second bag on my buggy and that’d make it lighter. I have a tray for my shopping underneath.’

The old lady stopped to look at her in surprise, then nodded. ‘Thank you. I must admit I bought too much today. It’s these silly two-for-one offers. And I am a bit tired. I had to wait ages at the doctor’s.’

Janey turned the buggy round and took the bag of
shopping, stowing it in the tray underneath while Millie alternated between blowing bubbles and smiling at the new person.

‘She’s a very pretty baby and she always looks very well cared for.’

‘How do you—’

‘How do I know? I watch you sometimes going along the path at the top of the street.’

‘And I’ve seen you going into that lovely old house. I’m Janey, by the way, and this is Millie.’

‘I’m Miss Parfitt. And I’m very grateful for your help.’

‘It’s nice to be able to help someone else. People have been so kind to me since I got pregnant. Except for my parents. They threw me out.’

‘That seems rather drastic.’

‘Yes. It was hard. They wouldn’t believe me when I told them it wasn’t my fault, that I’d been forced.’

‘Someone attacked you? How dreadful!’

Janey nodded and then looked at her in puzzlement. ‘I don’t know why I told you that. I don’t usually tell people any of the details. But you have a kind face.’

‘I do?’

‘Yes. I’ve seen the way you smile at dogs.’

‘We always used to have dogs. They’re good company if treated properly and taught their manners. I couldn’t cope with one now, though.’

‘No. And I couldn’t have one in an upstairs flat, even if I could afford to feed one, which I can’t. The benefits money doesn’t stretch very far.’

They arrived at the big house and Janey stopped. ‘I’ll help you in with the shopping, shall I?’

‘Thank you. And perhaps … perhaps you’d like a cup of tea and a piece of my chocolate cake?’

‘Are you sure? You don’t have to. I was glad to help.’

‘If you’re too busy, I shall understand.’

‘I’m not too busy. I have too much time to fill, actually, because Millie still sleeps a lot. She’s such a good baby, so easy to look after compared to some. And I’d love a piece of chocolate cake. I haven’t had any for ages.’

Inside the house, Winifred led the way to the kitchen, explaining about it being the only really warm area.

‘My flat’s got high ceilings so it’s a bit hard to heat properly. I make sure Millie is always dressed warmly because I can’t afford to keep the gas fire burning flat out.’

‘Do sit down. It won’t take long.’ She got the cake container out and set the remaining piece of cake on one of her pretty gilt-rimmed plates, taking out two matching tea plates to serve it on then turning to deal with the kettle.

Her visitor watched with great interest. ‘What lovely china! And all matching.’

‘It was my grandmother’s.’

‘The cake looks delicious.’

‘It’s an old family recipe.’

‘Did you make it yourself? How clever! My mother used to buy cakes from the local supermarket, the cheapest ones. Not very interesting. Just to fill my father up. He’s a big man and eats a lot. They weren’t prettily decorated like this one. Look how the icing swirls.’

‘I could show you how to do that. It’s not hard.’

‘Would you? Oh, I’d love to learn to cook properly.
Mum would never let me do anything at home. She said I was wasteful.’

Winifred looked at her in wonder. For the second time in a week, she’d made a gesture and it had been richly rewarded. It made up a little for her bitter disappointment with her nephew. ‘I’d be happy to show you how to cook. Why don’t you come round one afternoon and we’ll bake a fruit cake? I have an infallible recipe that’s very economical, but delicious. Then we’ll have half of it each. I’m always making too much for one person.’

‘You must let me provide some of the ingredients, then.’

‘Certainly not. But if you could help me up the hill with my shopping occasionally, that’d be a fair return for any cakes we make together.’

‘It’s a deal.’ Janey stuck out one hand and they shook solemnly.

Winifred saw her guest’s eyes turning towards the books. ‘Do you like reading?’

‘I love it. I’d go mad without books. I go to the library two or three times a week.’

‘So do I. It’s a wonder I haven’t seen you there.’

‘I’ve only just moved to Sexton Bassett.’

‘That accounts for it.’ So the poor girl didn’t know anyone here yet. How lonely she must be. She was too young to be on her own. How could any parents treat their daughter like that?

When Janey got up to go, because it was time to feed her baby, Winifred opened her freezer and took out a quarter of a cake. ‘Do take this. My freezer is full of portions of cake.’

She was surprised and very touched when Janey gave her a hug. Her nephew had never done that.

Afterwards she went to sit in the kitchen with a book, but spent the first few minutes going over the encounter in her mind.

Maybe … just maybe … she was learning to reach out to people better. It would be such a pleasure to teach that nice girl to cook.

It was never too late to learn new ways. She must remember that. Why, she was even going to computer classes. She smiled. She was becoming quite modern in her old age.

Well, it couldn’t be that hard to use a computer, since nearly everyone had one these days. And no one would shoot her at dawn if she messed things up.

She hummed as she cleared up after her young visitor.

Dan got up early on the day of his wife’s funeral. He didn’t know why, because the funeral wasn’t until midday and he wasn’t going to his allotment beforehand, but he couldn’t bear to lie in bed, had to be moving, doing things.

With a mug of tea in his hand, he walked slowly round the house, once again looking at the photos of his life with Peggy. They’d been a great comfort since the real Peggy had faded away. Some of the later ones brought tears to his eyes because the changes in her were starting to show, a slight bewilderment as if she wasn’t quite sure what was going on, a distant look instead of her former loving gaze.

His son Terry and his wife were coming over from Reading for the funeral, but their children were at university in the north and they’d decided it wasn’t worth coming down just for the one day.

He thought that wrong, but you couldn’t tell this generation anything. He’d have liked to have them all gathered round him out of respect to Peggy and to show that something of her lived on in them and the generations to follow. That was such a comforting thought.

Simon and his wife were bringing their two daughters, though. He didn’t see much of the girls, but they were a nice enough pair of lasses. Today’s teenagers seemed to care much more about friends than family. It wasn’t just him they steered clear of. They didn’t ‘hang out’, as they called it, with their parents, either.

When the doorbell rang, he found he had a mug half full of cold tea in one hand. How long had he been holding that?

Putting it down on the nearest surface he opened the door to Terry and Karen, glancing at the wall clock. ‘Is it that time already? Come in, come in. Why don’t you make yourselves a cup of something while I change into my suit?’

He joined them in the kitchen, where they were sipping cups of coffee. Terry gave him a searching scrutiny. ‘You all right, Dad?’

‘Yes, son.’

‘What will you do with yourself now?’

‘What I’ve been doing for the past year or so: spend my days at the allotment, there’s always something going on there, someone to talk to. In the evenings I watch TV or read a book.’

‘Might it not be better if you found yourself a retirement unit, so that you could be with people, somewhere that’s monitored in case you have trouble?’

Dan shook his head. ‘No! I like my own home.’

‘But the rest of us worry about you and—’

His irritation with their insistence that he should move overflowed, because this day of all days was not the time to nag him. ‘Why does your generation always want to hide us oldies away in little compounds? Does the sight of wrinkled faces upset you? When I was growing up, everyone lived together, young and old, and it was a far more interesting way of life for
everyone
.

‘My family lived in Peppercorn Street then, but it was a rented house and when the owner wanted to live there himself, we had to move. The street’s changed but it’s still a nice place to live. They knocked that house down years ago and built some big new houses, the sort yuppies live in. That part of the street is not only deserted in the daytime now, but people shut themselves up indoors in the evenings. I walk along it sometimes on sunny summer evenings and you never see the owners chatting over the garden fences or out in the street. What would someone there do if they needed help? You could scream yourself hoarse and no one would hear you behind all that double glazing.’

He realised his son wasn’t really listening, had that glazed look in his eyes that said he was bored. You could never talk to Terry about the past, only about money and his job. He waited and his son realised he’d stopped speaking.

‘Dad, if people in those houses were living on their own, they’d get one of those pendants that’s a security alarm, then they could easily call for help.’ Terry’s voice grew a little sharper as he added, ‘As I’ve begged you to do. At
least you could do that to set my mind at rest.

‘Gadgets! You’re always on about gadgets. Electronic thingamajigs don’t pick you up when you fall over on an icy day, or help you with your shopping or comfort you when you’re sad. Give me real people any day. I can call on my neighbours round here, day or night. Look out of the window. In every single house you can see, there’s someone who’d come over and help me if I asked.’

He saw Terry open his mouth again and wondered why he was bothering. ‘Leave it be, son. You’ve said your piece and I’ve said mine. I’m an adult, not a child to be looked after and told what to do. I’ll make my own decisions.’

Karen nudged her husband and made a shushing noise, then moved forward. ‘Let me straighten your tie, Dad.’

‘Thanks.’ He couldn’t resist adding, ‘You’d not get a machine to do this, either. Peggy always used to do it for me. I’ve never been good at ties. I hate wearing the damned things. She used to laugh at me for that.’ His voice broke on the last words and he had to swallow hard or he’d have disgraced himself.

Terry sighed loudly and looked at his watch. ‘Well, shall we be going?’

As he went to lock the back door Dan paused for a moment, bracing himself for the ordeal to come, then followed his son out the front way. This time he’d go in someone else’s car, because he was more upset than he was letting on and knew he wasn’t fit to drive. It was his Peggy he was saying goodbye to today, his lovely darling Peggy, and it hurt like hell. He’d always hoped he’d be the one to go first.

At the crematorium Simon and his family were waiting.
The girls came forward to give him a hug, looking so apprehensive he pulled them back and said in a low voice, ‘It’s only saying goodbye to your Gran, you know. Nothing to be afraid of.’ But it was their first funeral and they still looked wide-eyed and nervous.

After that everyone stood in silence in the reception area and waited for the hearse to arrive.

It seemed a long time to Dan, but when it came into sight he glanced at his watch and saw that they’d only been there for a few minutes and the hearse was spot on time. He’d always said time was as stretchable as elastic. It pulled out a long way when you were bored and pinged quickly past when you were enjoying yourself.

He studied the fancy flower arrangements from his sons perched on each end of the coffin. His own offering was in the middle, a bunch of scented narcissi, just a simple bunch not a tortured arrangement. His local florist said they came from the Scilly Isles. Peggy had loved their beauty and perfume at this time of year when no flowers were in bloom at his allotment.

‘You always used to buy Mum narcissi like those around now, didn’t you?’ Simon whispered.

Dan nodded because he didn’t trust his voice.

The men from the funeral directors slid out the coffin and wheeled it slowly into the crematorium. Dan moved forward to follow it, but stumbled. His granddaughters were nearest and they grabbed him, then held on to his arms from either side. He didn’t know if they were helping him or he was helping them, but it felt so much better to have them beside him. Today, at least, they were hanging around with their family.

Terry’s children should have come. He was still upset about that.

The service was very simple. He wished there hadn’t been any words, just a chance to sit beside the coffin and be with her for a final time, but you had to do what people expected on these formal occasions. He let his mind wander, stood up when the others did and sat there quietly as the minister made a little speech, a tactful, gentle consignment of Peggy’s soul to God. He was glad this woman was taking the service, not that snob from the other church.

To his surprise Simon moved forward after that.

‘I’d just like to say goodbye to Mum on behalf of myself, Cath and the girls. We hope you’re at rest now, Mum.’

Terry shook his head when the minister looked at him enquiringly. She turned to look at Dan, who moved forward, feeling he had to do this.

‘As you all know, in one sense we said goodbye to the real Peggy a while ago, but today we’re letting the rest of her go, too. I’m sure she’ll be at peace in a better place now. She was a wonderful woman. I couldn’t have asked for a better, more loving wife and I know how deeply she cared about all of you.’ He turned towards the coffin and added, ‘Goodbye, my darling.’ His voice broke on the last words and he fumbled for his handkerchief.

As he moved back to his place, he wiped away the tears and settled his glasses back on his nose. Simon nodded at him, also with over-bright eyes, and his granddaughters were clutching tissues.

And then it was over.
Thank goodness!
He didn’t know
whether he’d said that aloud or not, hoped he hadn’t. The curtains drew slowly round the coffin – too slowly for him! – soft music played and they were free to leave.

As he’d planned, he went to wait in the area where they set out the flowers afterwards. There were wilting bouquets lying around on a low wall that formed a sort of shelf. When he picked up his own bouquet again, his family looked surprised but he didn’t care. He’d press one of the flowers to remind him of her, and he’d keep the others until they were completely dead. It’d be the last contact he had with her.

Till they met again.

He spoke to friends, thanked them for attending and invited them to come to the pub, where Simon had helped him book a buffet meal and drinks.

As they got into the car it began to rain. That felt right, somehow.

He leant his head back with a sigh, grateful when none of his family said anything. He didn’t really want to go to the pub, but it was another of the rituals you had to go through.

It went better than he’d expected, though. People came up to speak to him. He was pleased at how many of Peggy’s old friends had come, those still alive. They spoke of her as she used to be and he found that easier to cope with than enquiries about her progress.

In the end, however, he was so exhausted he had to ask Simon to take him home.

‘I’ve had enough, son,’ he said simply.

‘You look dreadful.’

‘Well, I doubt I’ll get any better by staying here.’

When they got to his house, Simon insisted on coming inside. ‘Dad, we’re all worried about you, so just to make us feel better, would you please use this?’ He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a mobile phone.

It was the last thing Dan had expected. He stared at it then at his son’s anxious face. ‘For you, then, but I’m not leaving it switched on all the time.’

‘It’s for the opposite reason, really. In case you need to call for help.’ He grinned. ‘We know you’ll not leave it switched on.’ The smile faded. ‘And we’ll be very glad if you never need to use it.’

‘All right, then. Show me how it works.’

‘You’re tired. Now isn’t a good time.’

‘We can make a start, go through the basics. It’ll take my mind off … things.’

So he had a lesson in using one of the damned contraptions he hated. But if he didn’t have to leave it on, if it was just for emergencies, well, he wasn’t getting any younger. You have to be sensible about these things.

And if nothing else, it was a symbol of how much Simon cared about him. That felt good.

Janey went for a walk past the allotments, but though she stood by the gate and stared, there was no sign at all of Mr Shackleton. A man working on a plot further down looked across at her and came close enough to yell, ‘If you’re looking for Dan, his wife’s died. The funeral’s today.’

‘Thanks for letting me know.’ She turned and wheeled Millie slowly round the park. Poor Mr Shackleton! How awful to lose your lifelong partner like that. But at least
he’d had a partner. She’d never even had a steady boyfriend, thanks to her parents’ restrictions on her comings and goings, only a brutal rapist.

When she got home she saw Kieran staring blindly out of the window and waved to him. But he didn’t see her, let alone wave back. He seemed lost in thought. His life must have changed terribly, poor man. She knew how that felt.

As she climbed the stairs, the door to the flat opposite hers opened and a woman came out. Janey stopped to introduce herself, but with the briefest of nods the woman hurried down the stairs before she could get a word out. So much for having pleasant neighbours.

As she went inside, it began to rain, a few drops pattering against the window panes at first, then more until rain was beating hard against the glass. It wasn’t warm enough inside the room and she kept feeling Millie’s hands and cheeks to see if she was cold, but Millie never seemed to feel the cold. She played for a few minutes, glugged down a bottle of milk then fell abruptly asleep.

Janey wrapped an old shawl round her shoulders. She’d found it in a charity shop for a pound and it had been so useful. She loved the comforting warmth round her neck. As she stared out of the window, she wondered if Kieran was staring out too.

When a police car pulled up outside, her heart began to pound with anxiety. What now?

Kieran saw the police car draw up. What the hell did they want now? Without coming to a conscious decision, he left
the flat and went upstairs as quickly as he could manage, knocking on Janey’s door.

‘If they’re here for you again, I thought you might welcome some company.’

‘Thanks. I’m grateful.’ She turned to answer the intercom.

When the officers came up, she saw it was two different ones and wished suddenly that the female officer was there. She’d seemed to be on Janey’s side, or at least on the side of truth and fairness.

Bracing herself for more questions, more accusations, Janey waited for them to start the ball rolling.

‘We’ve come about the computer. I gather someone came to speak to you about it yesterday?’

She nodded, but didn’t say anything, just continued to wait.

‘Your father says your mother only agreed to let you have the computer and you shouldn’t have taken the printer. If you give it back and the spare cartridge, he’ll let the matter drop.’

It annoyed her that they were acting as if she was being forgiven for stealing something. ‘They must have given the printer to the courier or he wouldn’t have brought it here. And I don’t have any way of getting it back. I haven’t got a car and I’m living on benefits, so I can’t afford a courier.’