Secrets to Keep (14 page)

Anyway, Aidy couldn’t stay here while this smell was as strong as it was. She needed to pay a visit to her marital home, to collect the rest of her belongings. A surge of sorrow swamped her then. It was something she was not looking forward to. She had been so happy in that house, under the impression that she and Arch would eventually raise their children and grow old together there, and that wasn’t going to be now. But she knew that to dwell on what might have been would only make her more miserable than she already was, if that were possible. She needed to get this visit over with and start looking ahead.

Hopefully, though, by the time she returned with her belongings, whatever her grandmother was cooking up would be done and the stench from it gone.

She told Bertha, ‘I’ll have a cuppa later, thanks, Gran. I need to go …’ she was about to say ‘home’ but the house she had shared with Arch was no longer that, ‘… back to my old house and collect the rest of my stuff.’

Bertha looked at her for a moment. Going back to the home she had shared with Arch and been so happy in was going to prove very difficult for Aidy. She offered, ‘My brew needs to simmer a while yet, so would you like company?’

Aidy smiled fondly at her. ‘Yes, I’d like that, Gran.’

Meanwhile, hands on her wide hips, Pat was surveying the contents of Aidy’s well-stocked pantry. No reason for her to be putting her hand in her own pocket to feed herself and that lazy good-for-nothing she was saddled with. He currently lay sprawled in the armchair by the fireplace, having a doze before he made a strenuous effort to get himself off down the pub for the lunchtime session while she was in that stinking hole of a public toilet, earning the money to pay their way. Never mind, at least she had all this food at her disposal. She should have been on her way to work right now. Her delay was down to the
fact that she just couldn’t bring herself to shift her huge body out of the comfortable bed she had slept in last night.

Compared to her own ancient mattress, her son and daughter-in-law’s wooden-framed bed had been like sleeping on a cloud. Pat didn’t feel any shame that after she’d insisted Arch should give up his own bed to his parents, and not yet having found the funds to buy a bed for the spare room, he’d been forced to spend an uncomfortable night on the lumpy sofa.

Having decided on a tin of stew to go with some mashed potatoes and tinned peas, she plodded back into the kitchen. The set of gleaming pans displayed on a shelf on the wall caught her eye. They weren’t new when bought from a junk shop by Arch and Aidy, but were in a damned sight better condition than Pat’s old battered, blackened and leaky lot that had been at least third-hand when she’d been given them on her marriage. She’d had to make do with them since, never having had the money to replace them.

She then glanced around and a surge of pure jealousy ran through her. Like they would at the Greenwood house, the better-off residents of this city would no doubt turn their noses up at this house, with its damp patches, cracked ceilings, patched up, rotting windowframes and white-washed brick walls; but compared to the almost derelict hovel she’d just
moved out of, situated in a narrow alley between two factories whose chimneys constantly belched out thick clouds of black smoke, to Pat this place was a palace. Her daughter-in-law had the house and everything in it that she herself had always dreamed of having – before, that was, she had realised she was never going to get them through her own poor choice of husband. And now her spoiled daughter-in-law was throwing all her son’s hard work in achieving this back in his face. She had returned to her former home to care for her family, selfishly expecting Arch to go along with it all.

A disagreeable pout disfigured Pat’s already ugly face. After Aidy’s reaction yesterday, Pat was well aware that her own chances of moving into the Greenwood house were very slim. She could intimidate and bully most people, but much to her chagrin Aidy had proved immune to her threats. Aidy wasn’t stupid. She had known from the off what Pat’s real aim was. Damn the woman! Why had Arch had to choose a woman like her and not a little mouse like her two other sons had chosen? If he had, Pat would have been well and truly established in her dream home by now.

Then suddenly an idea struck her and a gleam lit her piggy eyes. Maybe her hopes of bettering herself were not all lost. She might have lost out on the Greenwood house, but why shouldn’t she have this
one instead? It might be smaller, two-bedroomed against three, but like the Greenwood house it was in a better part of the area than her old place, among a much better class of people. And, as a bonus, the furniture and furnishings in this house might be second-hand or junk-shop bought, but they were definitely in better condition than anything the Greenwood house boasted. Yes, this house would do Pat nicely, and another bonus was the fact that she didn’t have to put up with any other troublesome residents, like noisy kids and sharp-tongued old biddies. Whether Arch decided to stay here or move in with his wife, she didn’t care any longer. So long as he didn’t expect her to look after him in place of his wife if he did stay put.

Her ears pricked as she heard a key scrape in the front door. Wondering who it could be with a key to the house, as both Arch and Aidy would be at work, she plodded her way from the kitchen to the back room, throwing her snoring husband a look of disdain as she passed him by. On reaching the door leading into the parlour, she stopped short, hearing voices. Then she recognised the voices and pulled a face. It was her daughter-in-law and her grandmother! So Aidy wasn’t at work today then. It was a good boss she’d obviously got who allowed her four days off for a death in the family, unlike Pat’s own. She would have had to beg for just a couple of hours’
leave to attend a funeral, no matter how close a relative had died.

A malicious smirk curved her lips. She was about to get her own back on her daughter-in-law for quashing her original plan to better her living conditions.

On walking into the back room, Bertha behind her, Aidy stopped short, her face displaying shock to see her father-in-law sprawled fast asleep in an armchair. The top button of his shabby trousers was undone to reveal grubby underpants, the smell of his unwashed feet wafting up to greet her, and her mother-in-law, fat arms folded under her monstrous bosom dressed in her shoddy grey work dress, staring at them stonily from the kitchen doorway.

‘To what do I owe this honour?’ she demanded.

Aidy gawped at her. ‘Excuse me, Mrs Nelson, but this is
my
house. I should be the one asking you what
you’re
doing here, by the looks of things making yourselves very much at home?’

‘Well, yes, I am meking meself at home, ’cos this is my home now. My son needs looking after since his wife has put her own family above him.’ Pat sneered at Aidy. ‘Some wife you turned out to be! If he’s any sense, he’ll have n’ote more to do with yer and find someone else who’ll be a proper wife to him. You can rest assured that I won’t hold back from telling him that meself.’

‘That’s a joke, you looking after anyone. Yer can’t even look after yerself,’ cried an outraged Bertha.

‘Who asked you to stick yer nose in?’ Pat bellowed back at her.

The booming of his wife’s voice woke up Jim. ‘Can’t a man get no peace from you women?’ he asked, bleary eyed.

‘And you can shurrup too, yer lazy, good-for-nothing, fat pig!’ Pat yelled at him.

Jim quickly deduced that his wife was in the mood for a fight and hurriedly heaved his body out of the chair, pushing past her to get into the kitchen. Seconds later the back door was heard to slam shut.

Meanwhile Aidy was saying to her in a warning voice, ‘Don’t speak to my grandmother like that, Mrs Nelson.’

Pat glared back at her. ‘I’ll speak to anyone how I bleddy well like in my own house. Now, what was it that yer came for?’

Aidy was speechless. Was Arch mad, allowing his mother and father to stay! Knowing her mother-in-law, though, he more than likely had had no choice in the matter. But already Pat was calling it ‘her’ house and not Arch’s. His parents had been here barely half a day and their slovenly behaviour was evident. Pat hadn’t bothered to clear the breakfast dishes and it was getting on for noon. Beside the chair Jim had just vacated was a crumpled newspaper
and several empty beer bottles. Aidy doubted the bed had been made, or would be before they got into it again. And she guessed that Arch had been made to give up their bed to her in-laws and it’d been one person who had used the pile of spare bedding at the side of the sofa.

It wouldn’t be long before the Nelsons turned this house into the smelly, dirty pigsty they’d left behind. But Pat was right. Aidy didn’t live here any longer. Who Arch invited in from now on was his choice. That didn’t stop her feeling distressed to see that all the hard work and effort they had both put into making this house a lovely home was going to be destroyed if her in-laws occupied it for any length of time.

Not that she felt obliged to inform Pat why she was here, regardless Aidy told her, ‘I came for the rest of my belongings.’

With visions of some of the bits and pieces she’d already earmarked for the pawn disappearing, she warned Aidy, ‘Just make sure it’s only yer own personal stuff and nothing my son paid for. Well, hurry up and get ’em then! Oh, and make sure yer leave yer key on yer way out.’

Aidy felt a strong desire to point out to her mother-in-law that it wasn’t all down to Arch how nice this house was. If Aidy felt she wanted to take anything with her, then she was perfectly entitled to do so,
but her need to get away from this odious woman was stronger. ‘Come on, Gran,’ she urged Bertha, heading off towards the door that led to the stairs.

Aidy might be under the impression that Bertha was following her, but she wasn’t. She was incensed to see how disrespectfully Pat Nelson was treating her granddaughter and wasn’t going to stand by and let her get away with it. Giving Aidy long enough to be well on her way to the bedroom, Bertha wagged a finger in Pat’s direction. ‘Now I don’t know how you wangled yer way in here … and I’m pretty sure your poor son’s already regretting it, but …’

Bertha got to say no more. Pat was upon her, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her towards the front door, yelling, ‘I ain’t listening to your foul gob inside me own four walls.’ She had manhandled Bertha to the door by now. Wrenching it open, she pushed the old lady out, still yelling at her. ‘Ever come back here uninvited and you’ll get the reception yer getting now.’ She slammed the door shut then, seemingly unbothered that a last hard shove had caused Bertha to lose her balance and land heavily on the hard cobbles outside.

Hearing the loud commotion, Aidy came running down to find Pat just arriving back in the back room. Seeing her grandmother nowhere in sight, she demanded, ‘Where’s my gran?’

Pat smirked at her. ‘Well, the mouthy old bag ain’t
in here, that’s fer sure. Now I want you out too, whether yer’ve got yer stuff or not.’

And Aidy wanted to get out much more than Pat wanted her out. Her mother-in-law was dressed in her lavatory attendant’s work dress so she must be going out today. Aidy decided she would return later, when Pat wasn’t here, and collect her belongings and whatever else she was of a mind to take, without any interference. Spinning on her heel, she headed towards the front door.

‘Oi, yer key!’ Pat boomed out.

Aidy stopped short, spinning back round to find her holding out one meaty hand in readiness to accept the house key. Eyes narrowing, she said stonily, ‘I’ll give my keys over when I’m good and ready to, Mrs Nelson, and it will be to Arch, not you, as it’s his name on the rent book.’ With that she hurried on her way.

Opening the door, she froze in shock at the sight that greeted her. Sprawled on the cobbles, her old face creased in agony, lay her grandmother. A woman was bending over her.

Aidy crouched beside Bertha, crying out, ‘Gran, what happened to you?’

The woman who was with Bertha answered for her. ‘I seen it all, me duck. I was just passing, on me way to catch the bus into town, and I got the shock of me life when that big woman in there …’ she
nodded her head in the direction of Aidy’s front door ‘… pushed this old lady out. Yelling at the poor old dear summat cruel she was. She don’t look a nice woman, I have ter say. She can’t be nice with a foul mouth like she’s got. Anyway, before I could stop her, the old lady had toppled over and come a right cropper on the cobbles. I heard a crack. I’m awful feared she’s broke summat.’

‘I wish yer’d stop talking about me like I’m not here,’ Bertha moaned.

Aidy’s attention turned to her. ‘Gran, can you tell me where you’re hurt?’

‘It’s … it’s me leg and arm,’ she managed to mutter through waves of excruciating pain.

Just who had been the cause of her grandmother’s fall and the resulting injuries flew from Aidy’s mind as the need to summon urgent medical attention took over. She did not at all like the thought of leaving Bertha on her own while she fetched the doctor and asked the woman, ‘I’m sorry to impose on you, but would you please stay with my gran while I fetch the Doc?’

Much to Aidy’s relief, she agreed. After assuring Bertha she’d be back as quickly as she could with the doctor in tow, Aidy raced off in the direction of his surgery.

Ty had just returned from his morning calls and was busy at his desk, updating the notes of the patients
he’d just called upon. He’d had very little sleep the previous night, having been called out for most of it to deal with a breach birth, and it was only thanks to his skills that the child survived. As tired as he was, he was having a job focusing on his work. He was hungry, too, having had no time for any breakfast as he’d overslept and only just made it in time for morning surgery.