Living in the Shadows (17 page)

‘How about a flat no? He might get the message then.’

‘It’s difficult.’

‘How, pet?’ Her gran lifted her bushy grey eyebrows.

Linda shrugged and changed the subject. ‘I’m thinking, if Victoria doesn’t turn up, I’ll go down to Auntie Mary’s after next week. I’ve got some holidays left.’ She glanced up and caught sight of herself in the fly-blown mirror above the fireplace. She looked tired.

‘I think that’s a grand idea, our Linda…’

The kettle boiled and Linda emptied the used teabags out of the metal teapot into the sink.

‘Mind you warm t’teapot, pet.’

‘I will.’ Linda swished hot water round in it.

Nelly nodded, satisfied. ‘It’ll do you good to have a break and it’ll be company for Mary. She must be worried sick, poor lamb.’ She watched Linda drop two more teabags in the pot. ‘I don’t know that I’m as keen on them PG bags as much as Tetley’s. They’re a bit piss-shacks. Give ’em a good stir.’ She watched as Linda did as she was told and then nodded in satisfaction. ‘Good. Now, park your bum for a minute while it brews and cut this cake for us.’

They’d been skirting around what both of them needed to talk about for long enough.

‘I wish you’d told me, Gran. About what happened… about everything…’

Nelly’s face clouded. She took her glasses off. Her face looked naked without them – naked and scared and old. ‘I couldn’t, pet, it wasn’t my place. It was up to your mum and … Ted … your dad. Ellen told me years ago not to open my gob about it to you.’

‘Well, I know now.’ Linda sucked on her lower lip. She didn’t know where to start, how to tell her gran exactly who Karen was. What a bloody mess.

The back door was still open and she heard the first clear notes of a blackbird. She glanced towards the yard; he was perched on top of the prop.

‘Beautiful, in’t he?’ Nelly said. ‘Comes every night to cheer me up.’ They listened for a few seconds before hearing an answering call. ‘That’s ’is missus. She’ll be down in a minute, just watch. Surprising what little things make you feel better when you’re old.’ She reached for Linda’s hand. ‘You’ve ’ad ants in your pants since you got ’ere. You’ve got something to tell me, ’aven’t you, pet? Besides the other stuff?’

It was a long night. Nelly knew she wouldn’t sleep so she built up the fire Linda had lit, shuffled upstairs, dragged the eiderdown off the bed and settled in her chair. The flames cast long shadows around the room. Ashy cinders clattered every now and then into the pan under the grate.

Eventually, groaning with the stiffness of her limbs Nelly made herself stand and stretch before flinging the back door open and breathing in the cold air. The sky was black, clouded over with dark grey rain clouds.

She’d made up her mind what to do if her youngest son thought he could start any bother again. She’d be ready for him.

Chapter 32: Richard Schormann

Ashford: Saturday, September 27th

Richard couldn’t sleep. Two o’clock and still wide awake. The whistling in his ears was driving him mad, he’d hoped the last operation would stop it, but it hadn’t. He pushed the heels of his hands against them and pressed hard. It didn’t make any difference. It was always the same when he was stressed. He dragged the pillows higher against the headboard and pushed himself up in the bed.

The room was dark, the unfamiliar furniture vague shapes around him. He fumbled around, feeling for his hearing-aids on the table next to the bed. When he’d adjusted them the whistling was muffled under the night sounds around him: a train in the distance, Ted snoring in the next room, a catfight somewhere. He looked across the room to William’s bed. He wasn’t there. Richard remembered he’d said he was staying over at his girlfriend’s house. Crossing to the window he peered through the curtains. More dark shapes: the yard walls, the houses beyond the alleyway, no moon. Black clouds pressed down over the house, threatening rain.

He shivered. Moving cautiously towards the door, he pulled on his dressing gown. His mouth was dry and he wondered if he would wake anybody if he went downstairs to get a drink of water. One of the top treads always gave out a loud creak but he couldn’t remember which one.

The cold anxiety stayed with him. Coming face to face with George Worth as they came out of the cinema in Manchester had been a shock.

Richard saw the wide-eyed panic in Karen’s face, pasty in the fluorescent lights of the front of the building. People shoved past them, a constant movement that shifted them this way and that. He gripped Karen’s arm, drawing her closer to him. He was taller than the angry-looking man blocking their way but the overcoat made George Worth bulkier, more solid in comparison to Richard and the thought flashed through his mind that he was no match for Karen’s stepfather. None of them spoke; they were a moment of stillness in the flowing crowd.

Then: ‘Who’s this?’ The curt question caused Karen to straighten but before she spoke Richard held out his hand towards the man. If he could catch him off-guard perhaps they’d be able to get away quicker.

‘Richard Schormann. I’m … a friend of Karen’s.’ The muscle’s around Richard’s mouth, forcing the smile, loosened when he saw the increased hostility. He let his hand drop to his side.

‘Who?’

‘Richard Schormann. I’m a friend of Karen’s. We’ve just been to the pictures, isn’t it,’ he added, knowing he was stating the obvious.

What was wrong with the man? His jaw jutted aggressively; he was bunching and flexing his fingers.

‘He’s my boyfriend.’ Karen’s tone was low but defiant. Richard saw her glance from side to side as though looking for a way out from the confrontation.

George Worth took a step forward, pushed his face at her. ‘Get home. Now.’

The belligerence sickened Richard. Without thinking, he put himself between them. ‘Hey, don’t talk to her like that—’

‘And you,’ George Worth moved closer to Richard, prodding him on the chest, ‘you really don’t want to talk to me like that.’ His breath hot and stinking of beer. ‘You really don’t.’

Karen stepped back. ‘Come on, Richard, come away.’ She tugged at his arm.

The pavement was clear around them now. At the entrance of the cinema the doorman gave a discreet cough. ‘Everything in order, miss?’

‘Yes … thanks.’ She smiled at the man. ‘Richard?’

He walked away from her stepfather. He’d never been so angry. When the man shouted again, ‘Get home,’ Richard half turned.

‘No,’ Karen muttered. ‘Keep going.’

They’d hardly spoken on the way back to Ashford. Before getting out of the car at the end of Henshaw Street, Richard studied her. She was pale.

‘You’ll be all right?’

She didn’t smile when she reached across to kiss him. ‘I’ll be fine.’

Richard hadn’t believed Karen; the man was unmistakably dangerous. And when the loud banging on the front door started he instinctively knew it was her. He took the stairs two at a time, closely followed by Ted.

‘What the heck?’

‘I think it might be Karen.’

‘Why?’ Ted snapped the hall light on.

‘Ted?’ Ellen was peering around the bedroom door, Linda alongside her on the landing.

‘Stay there.’ Ted reached around Richard to take the bolt off the door.

Karen stood on the doorstep, her face streaked with tears.

Chapter 33: Linda Booth

Ashford: Saturday, September 27th

It took a long time to calm Karen down. She nursed the second cup of strong tea in her hands, huddled close to the gas fire in the front room. Richard sat on the arm of the chair stroking her arm with the back of his hand while Linda made up a makeshift bed on the settee.

‘I’ll sleep here. You have my bed,’ he said to Karen.

‘No.’

‘He’ll be fine.’ Linda smiled at Karen. ‘I’ve crashed here loads of times after a shift, as well.’ She didn’t add she’d also left Ellen there when she’d been too drunk to get upstairs and Ted was at the bakery. Nor did she show the anxiety she felt that George Worth’s stepdaughter was now under their roof.

‘She can’t stay here, Ted.’ In the kitchen, Ellen took a last long drag on her cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray on the table. ‘God only knows what that man will do if he finds out where she is.’

‘There’s nothing we can do about it tonight, love,’ Ted said. ‘Let’s just leave Richard to keep an eye on her for now and get to bed.’

‘I don’t like it.’

‘I don’t either, but we couldn’t turn her away and there’s clearly been some kind of bother.’

‘Not our responsibility.’ Ellen brushed ash off her dressing gown.

Joining them Linda knew if it was down to her mother Karen would be out on her ear, if she’d even managed to get through the door. ‘Richard says for you to get some sleep.’ Linda looked at Ted. ‘And he says thanks for letting her stay, Dad…’ She understood; the thought of seeing George Worth … George Shuttleworth … again terrified Ellen.
She
daren’t even think of what would happen once he found out where Karen was. But for Richard’s sake she wouldn’t turn her back on the girl. ‘Do you think we should tell Richard?’ she asked Ted. ‘About you know what.’

‘We can’t.’ Ted frowned. ‘Not until we talk to Mary. It’s not our place to tell him.’

‘Not our place?’ Ellen lit another cigarette, her hands unsteady. ‘Can I remind you it was our daughter he kidnapped?’

‘And why, Ellen? This all started with what happened between Mary and that bastard’s brother. What he did to her.’

Linda walked over to him and held him. ‘It’s okay, Dad, don’t upset yourself. It’ll all be okay.’

Ellen shook her head ‘She can’t stay,’ she said stubbornly.

Linda ignored her. ‘I’m going to bed.’

Chapter 34: Richard Schormann & Karen Worth

Ashford: Saturday, September 27th

‘Tell me what happened, Karen.’ The house was quiet again since everyone had gone upstairs. The only sounds in the room were the soft hiss of the gas fire and the trembling breath of the girl in his arms as they lay together on the settee.

‘He was waiting for me.’ She tipped her head back to rest it against his chest; her cheeks were taut with dried tears. ‘I thought he wasn’t in, but he was in the room where he keeps his canaries. Did I tell you he breeds canaries?’

‘No…’ Richard held back his anxiety, his frustration to know what happened when she got home. ‘No, you didn’t,
cariad.
’

‘I’ve always thought it strange that a man who can be so horrible is so gentle with the canaries.’ She spoke pensively. ‘Mum always says she thinks he feels more for them than her.’ She paused, tucked her hands up the sleeves of the pink jumper.

She’s in shock, Richard told himself; let her take her time. He waited.

His attention was taken by a light going on in the bedroom window of the house opposite. The tall figure of a man was framed in the glass; he scratched his armpits. Richard looked above him to the chimney-pot on the roof silhouetted against gauzy light streaks of the dawn. Almost morning already. What would today bring?

‘Karen?’ He manoeuvred himself so he could see her face. ‘What happened last night?’

When she spoke it was in a rush as though saying the words in such haste would lessen the harshness of them. ‘He said I couldn’t see you again. That he wouldn’t have me going out with the son of a German.’

She faltered. What he’d actually said was that he wouldn’t have her going around with a Kraut’s son. His spit had sprayed her face.

‘You keep away from him, d’you hear? I won’t bloody have it.’

‘Mum?’ Karen held out her hands to her mother who was pacing the floor with the crying baby clutched to her.

‘Don’t argue, Karen, just do as your father says.’ Her mother’s voice was weary, there were dark hollows under her eyes.

‘He’s not my father, my dad’s dead. He…’ she shot a venomous look at George, ‘he has no right to tell me what I can and can’t do.’

George took three steps towards her and grabbed her arm. His eyes were narrowed and hard. ‘He, madam, has a name. I’ll thank you to remember that. And while you’re under my roof, you’ll do as you’re told.’

‘That’s just it; it’s not your roof, is it?’ Karen jerked away from him and spun round, the settee a barrier between her and her stepfather. ‘Mum?’

‘Shush, you’re frightening Frank.’

Karen opened her eyes wide to stop the threatening tears from spilling over, watching her mother pat the baby’s back in a futile effort to stop the crying. Suddenly she felt so alone. And she was sure her mother felt the same, only she was too scared to admit it. When had this distance come between them? After her father died they’d clung to one another through those awful days. Then
he’d
come along. She glared at him.

‘Keep looking at me like that, lady, and you’ll be sorry.’

Karen swallowed. When she spoke again she kept her voice low. ‘It’s not your roof,’ she repeated. ‘It’s not your house, not your furniture.’ She thumped herself on the chest. ‘And I’m not your daughter.’ She stopped; the fear swelling in her.

No one moved. Even the baby was hushed. The stillness blanketed the room.

Then George lunged.

‘He hit you?’

‘No, I moved too fast for him.’ He saw her quiet inward collapse to hopelessness. ‘But I can’t go back, Richard. I won’t.’

‘No. You won’t.’ He pulled her closer to him. ‘You can stay here with me, isn’t it.’ He touched her chin with his forefinger, lifting her mouth to his. ‘And when I go back to Wales you can come with me.’

Chapter 35: Richard Schormann

Ashford: Saturday, September 27th

Richard yawned and moved his neck from side to side, trying to ease the crick that had formed over the last couple of hours, and adjusted one of his hearing-aids that had become dislodged.

A line of bright light forced itself through the half-drawn curtains he’d hastily pulled together. It shone across Karen as she slept on the settee, clasped hands beneath her face. He was stunned that a girl as beautiful as her could like him so much that she’d stood up to her bigot of a stepfather.