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Chapter 14

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KEEPING A CAREFUL watch for anyone who might recognise her, Lilian got off the bus and quickly made her way to the churchyard. The gift of flowers was cradled in her arms, as a child might be.

She knew exactly where to find Tom’s family. After all, she had attended the service after the tragedy, and since then had been many times to visit alone.

Coming in through the tall iron gates, she headed for the far side of the churchyard, where Tom’s family were laid to their rest. For a time she looked down at the headstone and the beautiful words written there, and she felt a pang of guilt at loving the husband of this kind-hearted woman. Yet there was a feeling of envy too; a feeling that he should have been married to her, and not to this woman lying here. If he had been, this awful tragedy might never have happened!

Her feelings were all mixed up: envy, regret, love and hate; they were all there, etched in her aching heart for all time. ‘I’m so sorry.’ Whenever she came here, she always felt the need to apologise. ‘I know you were a friend to me, and I was always grateful for that, but it isn’t my fault if I love him, you need to understand that.’

Undoing the wrapping, she took out the flowers: twelve beautiful yellow roses. With tender loving care she set them in the pot at the foot of the headstone, her heart leaping with fear when a voice at her shoulder said, ‘I’m glad to see you’re putting them in the vase and not throwing them all over the place!’

The caretaker was an old fellow with a bent back and a sour face, and he was fed up with forever clearing up behind other people.

‘Go away!’ Lilian had no time for him. ‘Clear off. Leave me alone.’

‘Huh! No need to be so downright bloody rude! All I’m saying is, I’m not paid to sweep up after you lot, so just make sure you leave the place tidy when you go.’

He ambled off, mumbling to himself. ‘Got no respect, that’s the trouble. Damned visitors … no thought for nobody but theirselves.’

Lilian watched him for a minute before getting back to the task in hand.

When she was satisfied the flowers were arranged to her liking, she went to the tap, found the small jug which was there for the purpose and, filling it with water, returned to the headstone, where she topped up the vase.

That done, she looked down on the headstone, her voice trembling with emotion as she whispered, ‘I love him, you know that, don’t you? I’ve always loved him. You were my friend, though. When you came to the office and we talked, and you bought me presents for my birthday … and that Christmas, when I was on my own and you asked me to your house … I loved you, too, in a way …’

Emotions overwhelmed her. ‘It was so awful … the accident and everything. I’m so sorry. It was my fault, you see. You don’t know how often I’d dreamed of getting you and the children out of the way, so me and Tom could be together. While you and the children were there, I didn’t stand a chance, don’t you see that? I wanted him, and I know he wanted me … but you got in the way!’

She gave a nervous little giggle. ‘We’ve got a chance now, though … with you gone. I know it’s a terrible thing to say, but it seems to me it was meant to happen this way.’ She outlined her plans. ‘He’s gone away for a while, you see. He said he wanted to be on his own, to think about everything – which is understandable in the circumstances.’

She stood up tall and proud as she declared, ‘I’ve decided to go and see him tomorrow. I know he’s ready to talk about us. He won’t turn me away, not now. Not with you out of the way for good. You see, he’s been feeling guilty about wanting me, that’s what it is. But it’ll be all right now, you’ll see.’

Suddenly she heard a sound behind her. Swinging round, she saw a young woman approaching from the bushes. ‘What are you doing hiding there?’ A kind of madness took hold of her. ‘What are you up to?’ Lilian was afraid the stranger might have heard what she’d been saying.

‘I’m not “up to” anything!’ Gloria laughed with embarrassment. ‘I was just delivering flowers,’ she said. ‘I took the wrong turn and had to cut through the bushes.’ Feeling threatened by the striking woman with her long auburn curls, she told Lilian, ‘I’m sorry to interrupt.’

Spying the pretty bouquet of flowers in her arms, Lilian asked, ‘Are they for here?’

‘Yes.’

‘But there’s no room in the vase now.’

‘Oh, it’s all right. Look!’ Shifting the flowers, she revealed how they were contained in a vase of their own. ‘The boss decided this was the best way of going on. You’re right. That vase is far too small. We’ve got a regular order, you see, and sometimes, if there’s flowers in the vase, I have to take mine back … it’s such a shame.’

Lilian wondered what was the matter with the young woman. Her voice was quaking, and she seemed in a hurry to get away. ‘You’d best do what you came for then.’ Lilian stepped aside. ‘I’m just going, anyway,’ she said. ‘I’ll leave you to get on with it.’

Gloria nodded her appreciation. ‘Like I say … I’m sorry to have interrupted.’

‘It’s all right.’ Lilian glanced at the headstone. ‘She was a friend of mine. It was a terrible thing that happened.’

‘Yes, I know … Mr Arnold told us. Terrible business!’

Lilian had a question. ‘Are the flowers from him?’

‘Yes.’

‘They’re lovely.’

She ran her gaze over the mix of dahlias, carnations and roses, all bright and dazzling. ‘I should think they were expensive.’

‘Yes. Very.’

‘I’d better go.’ It hurt her to realise that Tom was still sending flowers to his late wife. ‘Be careful not to hide mine.’ Another lingering glance, before she hurried away.

Behind her, Gloria shivered. ‘God. She may be a looker, but she’s a strange one!’ Setting the flowers beside the ones Lilian had brought, she tweaked them until they were to her satisfaction, then she stood up. She glanced around her nervously. Delivering flowers to the churchyard was not her favourite pastime, especially when they were meant for this particular place, and she thought she’d heard a noise.

It was probably nothing, she reasoned, turning and heading back to the car park, and her waiting van. She had another few deliveries to make in the churchyard, and then she’d be on her way.

She had finished the last of the jobs here, when she heard hurried steps behind her. ‘Oi, you!’ The old caretaker was out of breath as he waddled to catch up with her. ‘Where the devil d’you think you’re going?’

‘What do you mean?’ She recognised him straight off. He was the one who had alerted her last time, when the flowers had been destroyed.

‘What do I mean?’ Grabbing her by the arm, he urged her to get out of the van. ‘I’ll show you what I mean!’

Leading her back to the far side of the big churchyard, he pointed to where she had recently set the flowers beside Lilian’s. ‘I suppose you were going off without clearing that little lot up, were you?’

‘Oh, my God!’ She could hardly believe her eyes. The vase, the flowers she had brought, were all smashed and strewn about the churchyard. It seemed whoever did it must have been driven by a terrible hatred, for not only was every head removed from each flower, but the stems were torn to tiny pieces.

‘See what I have to put up with?’ The old caretaker was beside himself. ‘It’s bad enough clearing up the usual rubbish, without being made to clear up deliberate vandalism!’

‘They were all right when I left – what – quarter of an hour ago,’ she muttered. ‘There was this woman … she was talking to …’ A thought occurred to her. ‘Oh, my God!’

The old man’s voice pierced her thoughts. ‘You’d best clean it all up, ’cause I’m not going to!’

Before she could protest he had stomped off, and Gloria had no choice but to clear up the mess, retrieving the widely strewn pieces and carrying them to the nearest bin.

When she returned to the shop, it was to an icy reception. ‘Where on earth have you been?’ Mrs Taylor was hopping mad. ‘I’ve had to manage all on my own this past hour.’

‘I’ve been at the churchyard.’

‘What … all this time?’

‘I think I know who’s been tearing up the flowers.’

‘How?’ Now she was paying attention.

‘Well, there was this woman … about thirty-four … thirty-five. Attractive, well dressed.’

‘What are you saying … that this woman is the one who’s been vandalising the flowers?’

‘I might be wrong, but, well … you judge for yourself.’

In an excited voice, she began outlining the events at the churchyard. ‘I was coming along the main path when I saw her there. She was bent right down, staring at the headstone and talking to herself … well, either that or she were talking to somebody else, and there was nobody else that I could see.’

‘So … what did you do?’ The manageress hoped they had spotted the vandal, because Mr Arnold was coming to see them soon. It would be good if they had something positive to report.

Her colleague continued. ‘I didn’t like the look of her, so I turned off the main path and crept up round the back. I could hear her murmuring and whispering, and at one point she even wagged a finger at the headstone. I don’t mind telling you, I was scared. I tried to press back so she wouldn’t catch sight of me. Then I must have trodden on a twig or something. Anyway, she heard me, so I had to come out.’

She shivered from top to bottom. ‘She were a strange one. She had these staring eyes.’ To make her point she stared at the older woman, who promptly told her to stop being silly and ‘get on with it’.

‘Well, then she asked me what I was up to, and when I said I’d lost my way, I could see she didn’t believe me. But she wasn’t nasty or anything. Just a bit … “far-off”, if you know what I mean.’

‘No! I don’t know what you mean. So tell me.’

‘Well, when I was talking to her, she kept looking back at the headstone. She hardly ever looked at me. She just kept staring at the flowers.’

‘What did she say?’

‘She asked if they were expensive. Then she said it was a tragedy what had happened.’

‘Is that all?’

‘She asked if the flowers were from him.’

‘I see. And did you tell her?’

‘Well, o’ course I did. I couldn’t very well say I didn’t know, being as I was delivering them and all.’

‘All right. So, she asked about the flowers. There’s nothing untoward about that. She was probably just making conversation.’

The young woman shook her head. ‘You wouldn’t have said that if you’d been there!’ She told her boss about the way in which the woman in the churchyard had quizzed her, ‘About Mr Arnold, and the flowers, and when she left she told me not to hide her flowers. I got the feeling she meant to watch me.’

‘For heaven’s sakes! What an imagination you’ve got. I expect the poor woman thought you were just as strange as you thought she was … emerging from the bushes with a large bunch of flowers, how strange is that?’

‘I told you. I was watching her.’

‘Did she threaten you?’

‘No.’

‘Then what on earth are you making such a fuss about?’

‘I haven’t told you about what happened afterwards, have I?’

The older woman groaned. ‘No, but I’m sure you will, and you’d better make it quick. We’ve got customers.’ Just then the two men who had been looking through the window made their way into the shop.

The young assistant lowered her voice. ‘I was just getting into the van, when that old caretaker came running after me. He took me back, and you’ll never believe what had happened.’

When the older woman appeared to be intently listening, she went on. ‘The flowers were all ruined … every one, only this time it was worse than before. The flower-heads had been ripped off, and the stems were torn up and hurled away.’

The manageress was suddenly very attentive. ‘And where was the woman?’

‘Gone! Vanished like a will-o’-the-wisp.’

She imparted one last piece of information. ‘Every single flower was destroyed. All except hers! They were still in the vase, just as she had left them.’

‘No, Mr Martin.’ Lilian’s colleague, Alice, was having to explain to an irate boss why the papers he had asked for were not already on his desk. ‘Lilian isn’t in again today.’ After taking almost an hour to locate the files in question, she scrabbled together the documents and handed them to him. ‘We’re really missing her down here. Y’see, she knows where everything is. You’ve only got to ask her, and it’s there straight away.’

John Martin was a patient man, but today he seemed to be two steps behind with everything, and that was not his way. ‘This blessed influenza has knocked out four of my staff,’ he groaned, ‘and now it seems it’s worked its way down here. Get onto the Labour Exchange. Tell them the situation. They might be able to help.’

Alice thought this was her big chance and took it. ‘Er … excuse me, Mr Martin, only my friend who works in Woolworth’s has told me about this new office that’s just opened next to them in the High Street.’

Drawing in a laboured breath, Martin blew it out in a loud whoosh. ‘What does that have to do with me, young lady?’

‘Well, it’s a woman who’s just started up. She calls herself the “Good Temper” .’

‘Come on, child, spit it out. I haven’t got all day!’

‘She sends clerks and typists and all that to offices where there’s people off sick, or they’re short-staffed for whatever reason. They’re just temporary, until the person comes back, or the job is filled permanently.’ She was well pleased with herself for mentioning it. ‘Do you want me to ask her if she can help?’

‘No, I do not!’

Angrily waving his papers at her, he ridiculed her idea. ‘No doubt she expects me to pay the earth for this “temporary” person, and how do I know she’s not sending a spy to root out information on my business?’

‘But sir … I think it’s a brilliant idea. It could get you out of trouble, and my friend says she’s already got two companies interested.’

‘More fool them! I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous. Paying for temporary staff who you don’t know from Adam, when you can get people who’ve been properly vetted from the Labour Exchange.’

He gave another of his long, noisy sighs. ‘It’ll never catch on. Give it a few weeks and she’ll go under, you mark my words.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Alice knew better than to argue with the boss. ‘I’ll get onto the Labour Exchange right away.’

‘How long will Lilian be off?’

‘I’m not sure, sir. When she rang yesterday morning she said the doctor told her she was to stay in bed for at least a week.’

‘Good God!’ The news did not please him.

Storming off, he yelled back at her, ‘How am I supposed to cope, with Tom gone and Dougie and John away overseeing the Leeds job? On top of that, I’ve got my secretary and three typists off, and now Lilian! In my day, when you had a snivelling cold, you didn’t call it influenza, nor did you laze about in bed for weeks on end. You got on with the job, that’s what you did!’

That said, he strode off, muttering and moaning about the world and its people in general, and his staff in particular. ‘And you get on with your work.’

‘Yes, sir!’

Wagging her head from side to side, the beleaguered Alice dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘Yes, sir; no, sir; three bags full, sir!’ She was up to her neck in work because of the staff shortage, and she wasn’t in the mood to be bellowed at, especially when she was only trying to help …

‘OH, AND GET ME A TEA, WILL YOU?’ His booming voice startled her.

‘COMING UP, SIR!’ She chuckled. ‘Laced with rat poison and a dollop of witches’ brew!’

As she made her way to the corner cabinet where the tea and kettle were stored, her desk phone rang. ‘Oh, blast!’ She gritted her teeth. ‘I hope it’s not him again.’

It was Lilian. ‘Oh, Lilian!’ Relief flooded her voice. ‘Has the doctor said you can come back yet?’

On hearing Lilian’s answer, relief turned to disappointment. ‘Oh, that’s a real shame. No! Well, of course I want you to get well … you sound awful! Only, it’s Mr Martin. He’s being a right pig. With Tom gone and both Dougie and John not due back until next week, and another four people off with the ’flu … he’s going mad. And he’s got me running round like a headless chicken. Honest to God, Lilian … if somebody doesn’t turn up soon, I’ll throw myself off the bleedin’ roof!’

There was a minute while Lilian told her in nasal tones how she was feeling like death warmed over, and that she would be back as soon as she got the okay. ‘The doctor’s coming out again on Thursday,’ she said. ‘I really hope I feel better by then.’

‘So do I.’ Alice regretted taking it out on poor Lilian. ‘Look, I’m sorry if I sound miserable. Get yourself well and hurry back, eh?’

Just then, the boss’s voice rang out from the stairway. ‘It’s a good job my bloody life doesn’t depend on that tea!’

‘On my way, sir!’ She listened while Lilian spoke, then said, ‘You’re right. He’s like a bear with a sore head, and no, I won’t tell him you called, or he’ll say that if you’re well enough to get out to a phone box to call, you’re well enough to come in.’

She listened a moment longer, then promised, ‘All right, I’ll do my best to keep things going, and yes, I’m keeping the files in order.’ She crossed her fingers. ‘I am! Honestly.’ She almost leapt out of her skin when the boss’s voice sailed down from the heights. ‘HAVE I TO COME AND MAKE THAT DAMNED TEA MYSELF!’

‘Sorry, Lilian … got to go.’

Dropping the receiver into its cradle, she rushed about like her life depended on it. A few minutes later she swanned into the boss’s office. ‘Tea, sir … oh, and I’ve brought you a piece of fruit cake to go with it.’

It was the fruit cake that did the trick. ‘Well, thank you, Alice.’ His smile enveloped her. ‘What would I do without you?’

Back home, and lolling in a chair, Lilian congratulated herself on a job well done. ‘Oh, Alice … I feel so ill.’ Mimicking the nasal tones she had employed in the telephone box only minutes ago, she laughed out loud. ‘Truth is, I’ve never felt better. Besides, it’ll do them good to manage without me.’

She rested for a minute to think through her plan. ‘I wonder if he’ll be glad to see me?’ Telling no one, she had carefully planned this day for weeks; now that it was here, she could hardly contain herself. The thought of seeing Tom again made her dizzy with excitement.

‘Come on, Lilian. You’ve got a train to catch.’ A glance at the hallway clock told her it was already half past ten. Standing by the door, her smart new suitcase was already packed; she had her mackintosh at the ready. All she needed to do now was to change into her best dress, put on her make-up, and it would be time for the taxi to arrive.

With that in mind, she went back upstairs, and stripped off her everyday skirt and blouse. Taking out the flimsy underwear bought only yesterday, she slipped her slim form into it; admiring herself in the wardrobe mirror, she ran her hands over every seductive curve of her body. ‘He won’t be able to resist you.’

Next she put on her favourite dress: a burgundy, straight-skirted creation with belted waist and drop neckline. The final touch was the sheer nylons she had also bought yesterday. She slid them voluptuously over her long, slim legs, straightened the dark seams, slipped her manicured feet into her new, high-heeled, dark burgundy shoes.

A few minutes to brush her long auburn curls, a healthy layer of face-powder, a smarm of crimson lipstick, a touch of rouge to her cheekbones, and she was ready. Taking a final glance at herself, Lilian smiled with pleasure.

‘I hope you like what you see, Tom,’ she murmured, her heart leaping at the thought of coming face to face with him. It had been such a long time.

Going downstairs, she put on her mackintosh and checked that the house was secure. When the taxi arrived five minutes later, she was already at the door waiting. ‘I’m on my way, Tom,’ she whispered, climbing into the back of the cab. ‘We’ll be good together, you and me. You’ve had plenty of time to get over what happened,’ she chided. ‘There’s no need for either of us to be lonely any more.’

Convinced he would be thrilled to see her, she settled back in the seat and smiled a little smile. ‘It’s time for us to start planning a future together.’

Looking in his mirror, the driver thought Lilian was a real knockout. It was a shame she was mad as a hatter: he could hear her muttering to herself.

Now, as she looked up and saw him eyeing her, he asked tentatively, ‘All right, are you, Miss?’

‘Never better!’ she answered.

‘That’s good.’

He put his foot down and sped along. Usually he would chat to his customers on the journey. But this one seemed to be doing all right talking to herself, he thought.

Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection

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