Private Sorrow, A (13 page)

‘Did Dave mention he was going to Arbroath the next day?’

‘No, he didn’t and that was a strange thing because he always mentioned what he would be doing while I was in the ward. He would tell me what he cooked for their meals and what film they’d seen when they went to the pictures together. Etta never said much, but that was just Etta. She would sit and gaze all around the ward or read one of my magazines.’

It was time to go but Molly hated leaving Vera alone. ‘I can easily stay here with you and take you to the doctor tomorrow,’ she said.

Vera said she would be fine. ‘I’m feeling a bit better now. I’ll get dressed and just lounge around.’

Molly was worried about her but there was nothing she could do. She had offered her help and it had been gently rejected. As she walked towards the agency, her mind was going around in circles. Who was the woman in the address book, the one that Vera so clearly didn’t want to be found and questioned? Also, what had made Dave Barton suddenly go off to Arbroath on the Sunday when he was obviously going to visit his wife on Sunday afternoon? Molly looked at the ever-darkening sky and decided to forego her trip to see Marigold. Like Vera, she would just work from home today and try and make sense of everything.

After Molly left, Vera sat for a long time. There was so much she could be doing, like lighting the fire and tidying up from last night, but she felt unable to move. She was regretting starting this quest for Etta – too many old memories were being reopened and once they were out in the open, it would be impossible to thrust them back into that part of her life labelled ‘forgotten’. Yet Molly had offered her the chance to stop now, she had said there seemed no point in going on, so why had she not grabbed the chance to push everything back into the past where it would remain hidden forever? She had no answer to that thorny question except to wonder if she was on a self-destruction mission.

She rose stiffly to her feet and began clearing out last night’s ashes and putting a fire on. Perhaps, she thought, she would feel better with some warmth and a good programme on the wireless. Then she would lie down on the settee and have a nap.

Peter Walsh was a worried man as he set off on his bike on the Sunday morning. He’d had a row with his wife at breakfast time and he could still hear her sharp words as he made his way through the deserted early morning streets. The bike wheels swished through the deep puddles but he barely noticed them because his mind was on more serious matters.

He knew he should never have taken the works van yesterday and now there was a huge dent in one of the wings. He was on his way to see Jimmy Flynn, his colleague at Milton’s joinery firm. Jimmy was the registered driver of the van and he would be in deep trouble as well. His only hope was Jimmy’s mate, Alex, who had a small garage in the back courtyard of his house. Peter was hoping and praying that Alex would be able to repair the dent.

Jimmy was waiting for him and he wasn’t pleased. ‘I told you to be careful with the van, didn’t I?’

Peter was ready with his story. ‘It was the heavy rain that caused it. The windscreen misted up and I went off the road and hit a fence.’ He made it sound as if the fence was the culprit. Almost as if it had jumped out and hit him.

Examining the damage, Jimmy said, ‘Well, we better get it over to Alex’s workshop and see what he can do.’ He turned to Peter. ‘And you’re going to foot the bill.’

Peter became more depressed. The argument this morning had been about money, or the lack of it. His wife had shouted at him, ‘I’ve not got enough to pay the electric bill and I’m two weeks in arrears with the rent.’ His two teenage daughters had sat silent at the table with their bowls of sugar puffs topped up with almost a pint of milk. No wonder money was tight in this house, he thought.

‘Well, I can’t help it if there’s been no overtime for weeks and that I had to stay off work for two weeks after I cut my hand,’ he shouted back in his defence. However, his wife was not listening to his side of the story. She had started her ranting and she intended to continue until she spelled out the entire financial pressure they were under.

Jimmy drove carefully from Kirkton to Muirhead. Alex lived in a lovely detached house on the outskirts of the village and he was already in his workshop. ‘Hullo guys,’ he said cheerily. ‘What brings you two out here so early on a Sunday morning?’

Jimmy showed him the dent. ‘Can you fix this right away, Alex? We’d be very grateful.’

Alex squatted down beside the damaged wing. ‘I think so. Luckily the paintwork’s not damaged so I’ll try and knock it back into shape. I’ll be about an hour, so just go in and Jackie will make you both a cup of coffee.’

Jackie was Alex’s wife and the fantasy of both Jimmy and Peter. She was beautiful with long black curly hair and she always had a golden tan. She also had some fabulous clothes. The two men sat in the kitchen while she moved around like a golden goddess, stretching up to reach the cups from a row of hooks under the wall cupboard. Peter couldn’t help but compare her to his own wife, Donna, with her white, pinched looking face and sharp tongue.

Within the hour, Alex appeared and went to wash his hands. ‘That’s the job done. Hopefully nobody will notice it’s been damaged. Who do I give the bill to?’

Jimmy pointed to Peter, who felt like giving up on everything. He worked like a navvy all week and what had he to show for it? Sweet nothing, that’s what.

When they were leaving, he said to Alex, ‘Do you think I can pay this bill a bit at a time, Alex? We’re short of money just now.’

Alex agreed but he said, ‘Now I want something every week without fail. Give it to Jimmy and he’ll pay me.’

As they drove away, Peter said, ‘What does Alex do apart from that garage?’

Jimmy tapped the side of his nose. ‘He’s an entrepreneur. He does a bit of this and that.’

‘Well, he must be making a fortune with his bit of this and that. I mean, look at his house and that gorgeous wife. Her clothes weren’t bought with the Co-op dividend.’ But he felt better now that the damage to the van had been repaired. If he cut down on his cigarettes for a few weeks, he could pay the bill off without Donna finding out.

As he hadn’t slept last night, he almost nodded off in the van until Jimmy nudged him. ‘On your bike, Peter,’ he said with a laugh.

‘Look, Jimmy, I’m really sorry about all this.’

‘Get away home. That’s what colleagues are for. I don’t want to know what you were doing last night, as that’s your business.’

Peter pedalled away back home, back through the deep puddles, but he noticed them this time and it brought back the memory of the storm last night.

Edna was pleased that the fortnight’s absence from her job with John was over. It was still dull and overcast but the rain had stopped as she hurried up the road and arrived just before nine. She had taken more care than usual with how she looked and had even gone to the hairdresser on Saturday to get a new style. Irene, her mum, had said it suited her and she hoped John would like it as well. She had been pleased when her mum said that and she knew she was acting like some young girl on a first date, instead of a widow with a young son.

As she approached the house, her stomach did a somersault. The house looked to be in darkness but she was relieved when she saw the faint fanlight above the door. She knocked and waited. Something wasn’t right. She knocked again, a bit louder this time, and she also pressed the bell. Suddenly, the door was yanked open and a sleepy-eyed Sonia gazed at her with annoyance. On seeing Edna, she pulled her dressing gown around her. ‘What do you want?’ she said.

By this time, Edna was also annoyed that she was still standing on the doorstep. ‘I’ve come to work for Mr Knox. He knows I’m starting today.’

‘Didn’t my fiancé tell your agency that you were no longer needed?’

Edna was confused. What did Sonia’s fiancé have to do with her employment with John? ‘Your fiancé, I don’t think I know him?’

Sonia took two steps towards her. ‘John is my fiancé. Oh, don’t tell me he didn’t let you know. What a forgetful man he is.’ She had her left hand on the door and the light from the hall caught the sparkle of a beautiful engagement ring. ‘Never mind,’ said Sonia. ‘I’ll phone your agency this morning to cancel your contract so just you run off home again.’

Edna was furious at her condescending tone but she tried hard not to show it. ‘I’m afraid you can’t do that. It has to be the person who hired me and that person is Mr Knox, so if you let me see him I think we can get this problem sorted out.’ Edna wasn’t sure if this was true or not but she wasn’t going to let Sonia tell her what to do.

‘He’s not here. He said to tell you and I doubt if it matters who hires or fires. Your agency will be paid for all the work you’ve done.’

So she wasn’t an empty-headed woman, thought Edna. She knows I’ve been bluffing. ‘Well, I have some of my things still in the house. They will be in the lounge where we did all the work.’

Sonia stood for a few minutes, undecided. ‘Oh, I suppose you better come in, then. Mind you, I’ve tidied everything away. I’ll be doing John’s shorthand and typing from now on and I can’t work in that dreadful untidy mess.’

Edna walked through the quiet house. Was John still asleep upstairs? Then why didn’t he come down and face her himself? The lounge was like an advert from a glossy
House & Garden
magazine. All the wonderful clutter and homeliness of the original room was gone. She looked around but her small bag with her new notepads and pencils was nowhere to be seen.

Sonia sighed. ‘I put everything in a cupboard. Wait till I have a look. What is it you’ve left?’

Edna told her and she listened as the woman trotted off to the lobby. A minute later. she came back, empty-handed. ‘I’m sorry but I can’t find it. I think it must have been thrown out along with my fiancé’s rubbish.’

Edna was speechless. John’s rubbish, as she called it, was years of work he had done in preparation for writing his books. Edna stood for a few moments glancing around the room. She had loved this job and this room, and she now realised she loved John but it was too late. Perhaps if she had let him know, it would have turned out better but she still couldn’t understand where he was. As if reading her mind, Sonia said. ‘He’s gone to see his publisher and he won’t be back for another week or so. Then we’ll set the date for the wedding. At our age, we don’t want to hang about, do we?’ She made John sound like a ninety-year-old decrepit.

Edna had to leave, she had no choice, and as she walked away down the path, she realised she hadn’t given her good wishes to the bride-to-be. ‘Well, I don’t wish her any happiness,’ she muttered to herself and then suddenly felt guilty. ‘Yes, of course I wish her and John a happy life.’

When she reached Paradise Road, she felt on the verge of tears. Not wanting to face her mother and upset her, Edna retraced her steps and went to the agency. After all, she was now finished with this job and she would have to be allocated something else.

Molly was in the office and she looked up in surprise when Edna entered. She took one look at her face and ushered her upstairs to the flat. When she was sitting down, Edna burst into tears. Molly was at a loss at this sudden emotion. ‘What on earth has happened, Edna?’

Edna took some time to tell the story but when she was finished, Molly said, ‘That’s not like Mr Knox. He wouldn’t leave someone else to give you this news, Edna, especially as he told you to start in two weeks’ time while he sorted this mess out.’

‘That’s what I thought, Molly, but she’s wearing a lovely engagement ring and she’s still living in the house, and running it by the look of things.’

Molly was firm. ‘I still don’t believe it. If she cancels your contract, I’ll tell her it must be done by Mr Knox and until that time we’ll still be billing him. That’ll put her wind up and he’ll have to appear or phone here, so maybe you can get to the bottom of this whole mystery.’ This cheered Molly up slightly, especially imagining the look on Sonia’s face when she realised the bills would still be coming in. Molly fully intended to refund this money if it was John Knox’s decision, but not until she heard from him.

‘All the jobs have been allocated for today, Edna,’ she continued. ‘Mary is finished with her assignment at Keiller’s sweet factory and she is out on another job now. Just go home and come back in tomorrow.’

Edna didn’t look too happy with this suggestion. ‘I can’t face my mum. At least not until this evening, so I’ll just go somewhere and have a coffee and maybe have a look around the museum or something like that.’

Molly said, ‘You can come with me if you like. You know the job I’m on and maybe another pair of eyes and ears will help me make some sense of this mystery.’

Edna was surprised but pleased. ‘Is it not a confidential matter between you and Mrs Barton?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t go around mentioning it to everyone but I don’t think she’ll mind. Anyhow, I’m just going to see how she is today. She had an accident on Saturday night and she thinks a car hit her.’

Edna was shocked. ‘Is she badly injured?’

‘No, she was lucky, but now she’s not even sure if there was a car or not. She’s a bit confused about it but before we go to see her, I want to speak to the janitor of the school. He found her lying in front of the school gate.’

The two women made their way to the Rosebank School and Edna said, ‘This is the school Billy goes to.’

‘It looks like a good school,’ said Molly. ‘I expect the janitor will be working this morning but maybe he can give us a few minutes of his time.’

When they arrived at the school, they were lucky. The janitor was in the playground. He came over when Molly called and he took them into the house. His wife looked surprised when the trio entered but he told her, ‘It’s about that poor woman who had the accident on Saturday night, Morag.’

‘Oh, I hope she’s all right,’ the woman said. ‘She looked terrible when we found her and Norman was going to call an ambulance but she wouldn’t hear of it. But he walked her to her close and saw she got home safely, didn’t you, Norman?’