Читать книгу Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection - Josephine Cox - Страница 70

SWITCHING OFF THE engine, Luke Hammond climbed out of the car. His business meeting had overrun and then he’d had to entertain clients. ‘I’m sure that was Amy with the young woman from the café,’ he murmured. But the lamplight played strange tricks on the eye, so he couldn’t be absolutely certain. He’d learned Amy’s name by eavesdropping at Tooley’s, and now it was a name inextricably linked to Tuesdays – those days of freedom and dreams.

He closed the car door and made his way to the house. As he walked on, the image of Amy’s face was bright in his mind.

There was something irresistible about her. She had a warm, magical, memorable smile, and those bluest of eyes. It was the face of a woman you could trust. That was why he had a need to paint her: so he might capture that special something, and keep it for ever. Smiling, gentle, constant, her portrait brought him nearer to living the dream he conjured up on Tuesdays. Whenever he was feeling low, he thought of Amy and his heart was lifted.

His reverie was, however, suddenly shattered as he approached the house. Through the kitchen window he could see a woman frantically pacing the floor and, judging from her manner, she seemed to be in a dark, dangerous mood.

‘Oh God, that’s all I need … Georgina!’ A slim, attractive woman with thick, dark hair, she was his wife’s sister. He didn’t care much for her, a scheming, greedy woman. ‘What the devil can she want?’ Because of her, he was able to enjoy his one day of freedom and keep his sanity. But he knew her well enough to be certain that she never did anything out of the goodness of her heart, and for that reason his suspicions were aroused. ‘I can be sure of one thing,’ he mused, ‘she won’t be here for any good reason.’

Growing anxious, he quickened his steps.

Sensing his nearness, the woman peered out of the window, delighted to see him there. Before he had even opened the door, she was there to greet him.

‘Oh, Luke, I’m so glad you’re back!’ Her voice was entreating; her wide dark eyes glittering with excitement. ‘It’s been awful. I didn’t know which way to turn.’

At once he was on his guard. ‘What do you mean?’ Looking about he asked pointedly, ‘Where’s Sylvia?’

‘In the bedroom.’ Casting her gaze to the upper reaches of the house she told him in a whisper, ‘She’s sound asleep.’

‘Is she all right?’

‘She is now.’

He began to understand. ‘Is Edna with her?’ Edna, originally employed as housekeeper, was a good and loyal friend who had seen him and his wife through thick and thin.

‘No.’ Bristling at his question, she snapped, ‘She is not!’

‘So, where is she? She promised to stay until I got home. The meeting went on longer than was planned.’

With eyebrows raised and a marbling of anger in her voice, she asked sweetly, ‘What kind of meeting … or am I not allowed to ask?’

‘A meeting of business minds,’ Luke answered sharply. ‘A long-awaited meeting, too important to miss.’

‘Really?’ Again the eyebrows were raised, the smile devious. ‘I thought you might have a secret rendezvous with some attractive female,’ she suggested softly. ‘After all … the way things are, who would blame you?’

‘If you thought that, then you were wrong. There is no other woman. There never has been, nor is there likely to be.’ Bitterly he cast all lingering thoughts of Amy from his mind.

Taking a long, deep breath he squared his shoulders. ‘Now … will you tell me what’s been going on?’ he asked quietly. ‘You say Sylvia is asleep?’

‘That’s right. And, as you well know, it would be best if she was not disturbed.’

He nodded. ‘So, if Edna is not with my wife, where is she?’

Georgina gave a cunning half-smile. ‘I sent her home of course.’ Her expression changed to one of disgust. ‘To tell you the truth, I’d sack her if I had my way.’

Anger darkened Luke’s face. ‘Then it’s just as well you don’t have your way!’ he snapped. ‘That dear soul is a godsend to us. She’s been with us through very difficult times. Anyone else would have been long gone, but not Edna. She’s a good woman … and, thank God, she’s made of sterner stuff than most. What’s more, she knows as much about what’s happening as any one of us.’ His voice trembled with anger. ‘You had no right to send her home.’

‘Sylvia is my sister. I had every right! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Sylvia needs a proper nurse, not an old has-been like Edna!’

‘You’ve got a short memory, Georgina.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Cast your mind back to when Sylvia came home from hospital.’ With his eyes burning into hers, he explained the situation for the umpteenth time. ‘She had bruises and marks where she’d taken that terrible beating, but to look into her eyes, you’d think she was recovering well. Oh, yes, the doctor warned us that it was a possibility, but we hoped beyond hope for her sake that he was wrong. But he wasn’t, was he? What was it – a month, maybe two – before the fits started; the unpredictable violence, the depression and amnesia.’

‘I know all that!’

‘Then you also know how I got Sylvia the best nurses money could buy. First one then another. They had all the certificates and experience. They came with the finest references, but Sylvia sent them packing.’ He paused, allowing the words to sink in. ‘She would have nothing to do with any of them, and worse, nothing to do with the medication they administered. And then, when I’m about to despair, we discover that the finest nurse of all is our own housekeeper, Edna – fully trained, qualified, and with years of experience. What was even better was that she already had Sylvia’s complete and absolute trust … mine too. I can go to work during the week and know that Sylvia is in safe, loving hands, and that she isn’t hiding her tablets or pouring her medicine away.’

Georgina knew how every word Luke uttered was right, but she still had her say. ‘Except for Tuesdays.’

He nodded. ‘Yes, except for Tuesdays, but then Edna has to have at least one day off and she visits her aged mother. They go to the old lady’s whist club. But then you kindly offered to stay with her on that one day, and the arrangement seems to have worked out really well. Like you say, Sylvia always seems content in your company.’

Eaten with jealousy, Georgina persisted. ‘If you ask me, Edna is far too familiar. It never pays to let the servants know too much.’

‘Why don’t you let me worry about that?’ Finishing the conversation, he turned away with the parting words, ‘Besides, you know we never think of Edna as a “servant”.’

‘Then you should … because that’s exactly what she is. A housekeeper pretending to be a nurse again!’

‘To be honest, the fact that you sent her away is neither here nor there, because if I know Edna, the minute she realises I’m home, she’ll be back again … if only to make certain Sylvia is all right.’ He smiled knowingly. ‘In fact, I suspect our Edna has nothing but dislike for you.’

‘Hmm!’ Georgina narrowed her eyes and spat, ‘The feeling is mutual, because I can’t stand the sight of the damned woman!’

Treating her remark with the contempt it deserved, Luke made no reply. Instead, he went out of the room and on up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs he turned left towards his wife’s room. He knew from experience that it was best to leave her sleeping, but he had a deep-down need to check on her. He had to be certain she was all right.

Lingering outside her door, he listened. There was no sound. There never was. Gingerly he turned the handle, opened the door and, ever so softly, let himself inside.

Standing by her bed, he studied her sleeping face. Sylvia never liked complete darkness, and in the kindly haze of light from the standard lamp, her quiet, pale features took on a ghostly aspect. With her soft skin and long, tousled chestnut hair, she seemed almost like a child lying there. He stayed a moment longer, thinking how beautiful she was, and how fortunate he had been.

Raising the blanket to cover her arms, he tenderly stroked the strands of rich-coloured hair from about her face. When she was sleeping like this, everything seemed so perfect. Yet he knew it was not.

Beside the bed, her supper plate lay untouched: two small, plain biscuits, and a dainty wedge of cheese with the knife lying beside it; all exactly as it was when brought up by Edna. Untouched, unwanted.

The empty tumbler was on its side, half drunk, half spilled. As he carefully uprighted it, the dregs ran down his wrist. He wiped it away, but the stale milk remained, sticky and uncomfortable. It occurred to him it might well contain something medicinal, but it was spilled now, and anyway, she was sound asleep.

‘Good night, my love.’ Leaning over, he whispered assurances with the softest of kisses before, collecting the supper plate, he left the room as softly as he had arrived.

Once outside on the landing, he made his way to the bathroom; a large converted bedroom with high ceilings and stripped wooden floor, it always struck him as strangely cold and bleak.

Setting the supper plate on the cupboard, he went to the basin where he splashed a handful of cold water over his wrist, then another over his face. After hours of talking business he was wearied. The shock of cold water felt refreshingly good.

When, eyes half closed, he turned to find the towel, she was suddenly on him like a fiend.

‘YOU’VE BEEN WITH HER!’ Shrieking like a demented soul she grabbed the cheese knife; lashing out, wanting to hurt him, needing to maim him, just as she felt maimed. ‘You don’t want me any more. I’m no good to you … don’t lie to me!’ With one swipe of the knife she caught him down the cheekbone. When the blood spurted out she lunged at him again, but this time he caught her arm to fend her off.

‘Sylvia! Drop the knife! Sylvia, please!’

‘Let me go, you bastard … I HATE YOU!’ There was no stopping her now. Raising her arm she brought it down, the small curved blade targeting his face. He ducked, grabbed her by the waist and, drawing her towards him, pinned her arms by her sides. ‘It’s all right, Sylvia,’ he gasped, ‘… it’s all right. There is no one else in my life but you.’ He struggled to regain his breath, to ignore the blood he could feel oozing down his face.

Her dark eyes calmer now, she looked up. ‘Promise me?’

He nodded, his forced smile seeming to settle her fears. ‘I promise.’

When she began sobbing, he gently took away the knife and, at that moment, something made him glance towards the door. Shocked to see Georgina leaning against the door-jamb, he asked harshly, ‘How long have you been there?’

Smiling triumphantly, she replied, ‘Long enough.’ In fact she had witnessed the whole thing.

‘Did you wake her?’ Suspicion trembled in his voice.

‘Shame on you, Luke.’ Her small, mean mouth opened in disbelief. ‘Do you really believe I would do such a thing?’

His voice hardened. ‘I know you would … if it suited your purpose.’

Just then, a plump woman of homely face and grey hair appeared.

‘Is Mrs Hammond all right, sir?’ She was obviously distressed.

Relieved to see her, Luke reassured her. ‘Yes, Edna, she’s all right.’

Clinging to him, Sylvia looked up at her husband. ‘I’m tired,’ she said wearily. ‘Can I go back to my bed now?’

Kissing her tenderly on the forehead, Luke nodded. ‘Come on … I’ll take you back.’

As he moved forward, she saw the blood trickling from his cheekbone. A look of astonishment came over her features. ‘Your face is cut!’ Horrified, she reeled from him. ‘I want Edna.’ Her voice rising to a shriek, she demanded, ‘Edna! I need you to take me back. Please, Edna …’

Like a frightened child she entreated the older woman, and the older woman loved her as she would her own flesh and blood. ‘You must calm yourself, my dear,’ she said soothingly. ‘O’ course I’ll take you back.’ She shifted an inquisitive gaze to Luke. ‘If it’s all right with Mr Hammond, that is?’

Luke gave the nod she needed, and now, as Sylvia went to her with open arms, Edna quickly but gently led Sylvia back to the safety of her bed.

Reaching out for the towel, Luke dipped a corner into the wash-bowl and dabbed at the blood trickling from his wounds, but all the while his wary eyes were fixed on Georgina. ‘If I thought you’d woken her,’ he warned, shaking his head, ‘I would have to think twice about banning you from this house.’

‘You couldn’t do that! I’m her sister.’

‘And I’m her husband – so I could, and I would. My only concern is for Sylvia.’ His voice thickened. ‘My God! If I knew you’d deliberately upset her …’

Afraid now, she stepped forward. ‘I didn’t. I love her!’ There was a measure of sincerity in her voice. ‘I would never hurt her … you must know that.’

Using what she considered to be her best card, she taunted, ‘If you thought me capable of hurting her, you would never trust me to stay with her on a Tuesday.’

Taken aback, Luke spoke firmly. ‘And you think it would bother me if I didn’t have my Tuesday freedom, do you?’

‘I know how much you treasure your Tuesdays, that’s all,’ she retaliated. ‘Or am I wrong?’

‘No, you’re not wrong.’ Once more wiping the towel over the wound on his cheekbone, he reminded her, ‘However much I treasure my little freedom, Sylvia will always be my first concern.’

A moment passed while Georgina silently considered his answer. She knew that, in spite of the way things were, he was speaking the truth, and to her mind it was a shocking waste of a man’s devotion. Deep down she resented the love he felt for her sister. ‘On these Tuesdays, when I come over to take care of her, where do you go?’

‘That’s my business.’ He gave her a warning glance. ‘We’ve had this conversation once too often, Georgina. Make this the last time, will you?’

Not being a woman who gave in easily, she persisted, ‘I know you don’t go to the factory.’

Angry and worried, he demanded, ‘And how could you possibly know that?’

‘Ah! I have my ways and means,’ she said with a sly little grin. ‘But don’t worry. I won’t give your secret away.’

‘Do what you think fit,’ he advised casually. ‘It makes no difference to me.’

She took a step closer. ‘I really am curious. What do you do? Where do you go?’

Throwing the towel into the washbasin he told her, ‘That’s enough talk for now!’

‘All right. Like you say, it’s none of my business.’ She wisely backed off. When he had that look about him she knew it was impossible to get answers so, instead of riling him, she changed tack. ‘I meant what I said, though. I do love Sylvia and, whatever you might think, I would never hurt her.’

Luke nodded. ‘I don’t know why, but I’m inclined to believe you.’

He knew there had always been a measure of love between the two sisters, but: ‘All the same, I wish I could be certain of you.’

‘Oh, but you can!’ Tears swam in her dark eyes. ‘You really can.’

He nodded, but made no move towards her. One thing he had learned about her was that she could turn on the tears at will.

She bowed her head. ‘I know there are times when you don’t trust me, but it’s just that … I’m saddened by what’s happened to her, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Sometimes, it cripples me …’ she tapped her chest, ‘… inside here.’

He understood how that felt, and deep down, where the pain lived, he felt a kind of sympathy with her. ‘Oh, look, I’m sorry if sometimes I seem unfeeling.’ Ashamed, he reminded himself of the hours he and Georgina had spent together at the hospital, not knowing whether Sylvia would live or die. It had been the worst time of his life and she had been there for him when he needed her. ‘But she’s so precious to me. I can’t risk her being damaged again … not by anyone!’

Unmoved, she gave another glimpse of her cruel nature in her comment: ‘What about Arnold Stratton?’

He gave her a withering look. ‘I don’t want to hear that name.’

‘Will you tell me something?’ There was a look in her eye that disturbed his peace of mind.

‘Depends?’ Just when he was beginning to trust her she made him wary as always.

‘Why did you never go after him?’

For a long, awkward moment he remained silent; the past swirling through his mind, taking him back to a place he did not want to be. ‘I did go after him.’

‘What!’ She stepped forward, her eyes wide with astonishment. ‘I never knew that!’

He smiled, a sad, telling smile that showed the scars inside. ‘That’s because I never told anyone.’

‘Not even Sylvia?’ There was no end to her cruelty.

‘Especially not Sylvia.’

Excitement trembled in Georgina’s voice. ‘What happened?’

‘Nothing. I went there with the intention of tearing him limb from limb …’

The telling brought it all back with a vengeance, and he walked across the room, his fists rubbing one into the other as though they were itching to hit something, or someone. ‘The police got there before me. When I turned the corner he was being arrested. After that, it was out of my hands.’ His features stiffened. ‘More’s the pity! A ten-year gaol sentence is so little for what he did.’

Needing to end the conversation, he swung round on her. ‘What are you doing here anyway?’

‘I was worried about Sylvia.’ Venturing closer, she lied, ‘I couldn’t sleep. I got to thinking how that bastard Stratton beat her so bad she almost died. As it was, he damaged her brain so much she’ll never be whole again.’ Her voice dropped to a baby whine. ‘Is it her punishment, do you think … for having relations with him … cheating on you, when you’ve always been such a wonderful husband?’

‘That’s enough, Georgina. I think it’s time you went.’

‘Oh, Luke, I’m sorry. I know how painful it is for you to think about what happened.’ Making the sign of the cross on herself she whispered solemnly, ‘I promise I’ll never speak of it again.’

‘I’d appreciate that.’

Georgina was a strange person, he thought. And he could never fathom her. Sometimes she couldn’t do enough for himself and Sylvia, and other times she seemed to take satisfaction in torturing him.

Walking to the door he expected her to follow. Instead she went on talking. ‘It was just as well I got here when I did,’ she assured him. ‘By the time I arrived, Sylvia was already being difficult. Ask Edna, if you don’t believe me. Between us, we managed to calm her and get her to bed. Edna insisted on going in to check on her, but I wouldn’t let her. I sent her home instead.’

A thought occurred to her. ‘What was she doing here just now? I told her not to come back. I told her I was going to have a word with you – that it must have been her who upset Sylvia in the first place, otherwise why was she in such a state when I got here? And just now, how did she get into the house? You can’t get into the house without a key.’

Luke enlightened her. ‘Edna has a key. And before you say anything, she will continue to have a key. For Sylvia’s sake I need to know that Edna can let herself in at any time.’

Georgina saw her opportunity. ‘Think about it, Luke! I have some experience of looking after sick people – I nursed my mother when she was ill – and the doctor said I would have made an excellent nurse.’

‘And you would,’ Luke agreed. ‘I’ve seen how gentle and good you can be with Sylvia.’

‘There you are!’ she cried jubilantly. ‘So, why don’t I sell my house and come to live here? Then you’d have no need of Edna.’

He swiftly dismissed her idea. ‘Thank you all the same, but I really don’t think that’s necessary. Besides, Edna might be a little slower than she once was, but she’s more than capable and, as well you know, Sylvia trusts her implicitly.’

‘She trusts me too. I mean, on Tuesdays when Edna has her day off and you’re away working on your “secret” project …’ she waited for an explanation, and when there was none, she continued, ‘… well, she always enjoys my company. We get on well together. We always have.’

‘Yes. I know that.’

He had seen how the two of them laughed and chatted together, about their childhood and other things that women were interested in, such as the latest fashion designs and favourite film stars.

They really did seem to enjoy each other’s company, and on the one occasion when Sylvia had a bad turn, Georgina quickly got the doctor out and everything was under control.

She was a sensible, intelligent woman. That was the reason he was content enough to leave them together while he enjoyed his own company on that one special day.

All the same, his small, sneaking distrust of Georgina remained. Now, though, he thought it best to remind her of something. ‘Just now, when Sylvia saw what she’d done to my face, she was upset. But did you notice, it wasn’t you she turned to? It was Edna. No, Georgina, it’s kind of you to offer, but it’s best we leave things the way they are.’ His instincts told him it would be a very bad idea to have Georgina in the house at all times.

Opening the door, he offered, ‘I’ll have a word with Edna … see if she wouldn’t mind me running you home.’

But Georgina would not hear of it. ‘No. I’ll get a cab. I’d prefer that.’

‘All right,’ Luke conceded, ‘if that’s what you want.’

Going to the hallstand, he took down two coats: a long dark, woollen coat with belt and deep pockets, and a black astrakhan three-quarter one with black bone buttons and fur collar.

First helping her on with the astrakhan, he then shrugged on his own coat. ‘I’ll walk you to the bottom of the street. We’ll flag down a cab there.’

It was a matter of only five minutes or less, before a cab pulled over. ‘Mind you go straight indoors once you get home.’

‘It’s all right,’ she answered with the sweetest of smiles, ‘I know how to look after myself.’

Helping her into her seat, he kissed her dutifully on the cheek. ‘Good night, Georgina.’

Before settling back into her seat, she clung to him a moment longer than he was comfortable with. ‘Good night, Georgina!’ Taking her by the shoulders he gently but firmly pushed her away and closed the door. ‘Eighteen, Park Street.’ He thrust a handful of coins into the driver’s hand. ‘There’s a bit extra there,’ he pointed out. ‘Mind you wait until she’s safely inside.’

A smile from her, a wave and she was gone.

Somewhat dejected, Luke made his way back to the house. ‘I’ll never understand it,’ he muttered. ‘How could two sisters be so different?’

But then he reminded himself of how Sylvia had been having an affair with Arnold Stratton, before they found her beaten and battered in the alley.

It had been the worst shock of all, and even now Luke found it hard to believe that she had deceived him with another man. He had adored Sylvia since the first day they met; with every fibre in his body. Without question or reservation. Time and again, she had told him how she never wanted or needed anyone else, and he believed her.

In the early years theirs had been the ideal romance, the meeting, the courtship, the sharing and growing together. Then the cracks had begun to show, with Sylvia’s waywardness and selfishness. She was bored; she didn’t want Luke to go to the factory; she wanted to travel … She started spending every evening out – with friends, but they were not friends he knew – and she was drinking a lot. Luke tolerated all this because he still had his dreams of their growing old together, with maybe a son who would one day take over the business from him. Then Sylvia met Arnold Stratton …

Luke still loved her now in spite of her cheating, but not in the way he had loved her before. Not with his heart and soul. Not blindly. But he had made his vows and he held her close to his heart. She was his wife, his responsibility and he would take care of her until the end of her days … or the end of his! Whichever came first.

His thoughts returned briefly to Amy as he had seen her that evening – young, care-free, laughing in the street. She was his dream, but Sylvia was his reality.

The portly cab driver was a chatty sort. ‘I’ll soon have you home, miss,’ he assured Georgina proudly, ‘safe and sound, just like the good man wanted.’

Deep in thoughts of a devious kind, Georgina didn’t hear him.

‘Decent fella … seems concerned to keep you from harm,’ the cabbie went on. ‘Your intended, is he?’

Coming out of her reverie with her mind made up, Georgina didn’t catch his last remark. ‘What’s that you say?’

Half-turning his head, the cabbie apologised. ‘Sorry if I offended you. I were only asking if the fella was your intended?’

Georgina smiled. ‘Not officially,’ she answered coyly, ‘I mean, he doesn’t know it yet, but I intend for us to be man and wife one day.’

The cabbie laughed out loud. ‘You women!’ he chuckled. ‘Once you get your claws into us men, we’ve got no chance at all.’

He was only minutes from Park Street when she instructed, ‘Turn down the next street left.’

Confused, he advised her, ‘But that’s Johnson Street. I were told you wanted Park Street.’

‘Well, now I want Johnson Street!’ she snapped. ‘Keep moving until I tell you when to stop.’

Swinging the vehicle into Johnson Street, the cabbie was guided by the streetlamps. ‘What number?’ He peered at the door: ‘This is fifteen … seventeen …’ As instructed, he moved slowly on.

‘Here!’ Perched on the edge of her seat and ready to open the door, she screeched at him, ‘STOP HERE!’

Made to halt in a dark, shadowy spot between two streetlamps, he wondered what she was up to. ‘Do you want me to wait?’ he asked as she climbed from the cab.

‘Well, of course I want you to wait,’ she replied impatiently. ‘The trams have stopped running and I certainly don’t intend walking home in the dark.’

He nodded. ‘How long will you be?’

‘I don’t know,’ she snapped. ‘Anyway, what does it matter to you?’

‘Well, if it’s only a few minutes it’ll make no difference. But if it’s gonna be some time, then I might have to charge you a bit more.’

Georgina rounded on him. ‘You’ll do no such thing!’ she told him. ‘I saw the handful of coins he gave you, and it was more than enough. You’re getting no more – not even if I’m in there till morning!’

‘I see.’ He had taken a real dislike to her. ‘And are you likely to be in there “till morning”?’

‘Well, now …’ giving a sly little wink, she leaned towards him, ‘… we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?’ With that she sauntered off, glancing up at the house numbers as she went.

Curious, he watched as she knocked on a door. Smartly groomed and dressed in expensive clothes, she was quite an eye-opener, he thought. But it didn’t always follow that what looked good on the outside was good on the inside.

A naturally wary man, he decided that when she came back out, he would take her home quick as he could, and never a word of conversation between them.

Cabbies should keep their traps shut and just do their job, he decided, or who knew what trouble they might find themselves in.

After a few moments the door opened. Casting a glance up and down the street, she hurried inside.

The cab driver also glanced up and down the street. ‘It’s a far cry from Park Street,’ he muttered thoughtfully.

A long meandering street on a deep slope towards the town, Johnson Street was typical of the roads in those parts. It was the kind of ordinary, serviceable place where folks like himself lived out their days – hard-working, God-fearing folks who worked long, back-breaking hours in the cotton-mills or the nearby factories.

One thing was certain: it was nothing like the beautifully kept, wide open streets, with their big posh houses, that ran up alongside the park. Those were reserved for wealthy folk – employers, bank managers, that kind of contented, fortunate soul.

He settled himself into the seat, closed his eyes and yawned. ‘One thing’s for sure, she’s up to no good.’ He thought about the man who had paid for her cab. ‘Some women don’t know when they’re well off!’ he muttered. ‘That fella seemed a decent sort, but if he’s not careful, he’ll find himself hooked up to a bad lot, an’ no mistake!’

Georgina followed the man into the sitting room.

‘I didn’t expect you tonight, Helen. What you doing ’ere at this late hour anyway?’ A rough-looking fellow, but well-endowed, clad only in underpants he made a fetching sight to her eager eyes.

‘Aren’t you pleased to see me?’ A flush of disappointment coloured her face, but she pouted seductively and slowly slipped her coat off, her eyes full of suggestion.

He gave a wily grin. ‘Depends, don’t it?’ Looking her up and down he licked his lips. ‘It’s been a while since we got together.’

‘I was on my way home and thought I’d come and pay a visit,’ she purred.

His blue eyes coveting her, he smiled. ‘If I knew where you lived, I might be able to repay the favour now and then.’

Shaking her head, she took a step forward. ‘I’ll never tell you where I live.’

‘Hmm! Sometimes I wonder if your name really is Helen.’ He gave her a wry little smile. ‘Is it?’

She laughed. ‘That’s for me to know and you to find out.’

‘You’re a secretive bugger and no mistake.’ Now, as he moved towards her, the light from the flickering gas-mantle played shadows on his unshaven face. ‘And why is that, I wonder?’

Stroking her hands through his tousled brown hair, she murmured, ‘Because I don’t trust you. I don’t trust anyone, but I especially don’t trust men.’

Through hostile, narrowed eyes he studied her. ‘All the same, it would make things easier if I knew a bit more about you. After all, you know my name, and you know where I live.’

Staring him out, she answered emphatically, ‘Only because I had to bring you home when you were drunk out of your mind. You couldn’t stop talking.’

They had met in the town one afternoon when Georgina’s high heel had become caught between paving stones and he’d freed her. Each had liked the look of the other. He admired her bold manner and her expensive perfume, and she had always secretly lusted after rough-looking men. Good manners, she found, so often took the excitement out of sex. Sylvia must have found the same, Georgina thought. Why else had she had an affair with Arnold Stratton?

Neither had anything better to do so they’d found a hotel bar; then, when they’d drunk a fair amount, gone on to a pub he knew. There he’d become ridiculously drunk and she’d had to take him home in a taxi. She’d stayed the night and their affair had started when his hangover abated.

‘And besides, you don’t need to know my real name and address,’ she now added.

‘Oh, but you’re wrong. As a rule I know all about my women after the first meeting.’

‘I’m not one of “your women”.’

‘So, what are you doing here?’ Leering into her face, he laughed. ‘Can’t resist me, is that it?’

She batted her eyelashes. ‘I get lonely sometimes,’ she answered. ‘Is that so hard to understand?’

He took a long, slow breath. ‘It is, yeah. You’re an attractive woman … not short of a bob or two, by the looks of it, and here you are, slumming through the back streets to see an old lag like me.’

Smiling, she observed his muscular figure, with the first signs of a rounded stomach, and that unkempt face with its peculiar, rough appeal and, stepping forward, she stroked his bare arm. ‘You’re not an “old lag”,’ she murmured.

‘Oh, but I am.’ He was deliberately taunting her. ‘When a man’s been in prison, what else would you call him, but an old lag? I’m a bad man, Helen.’ His eyes were hard like two bright marbles. ‘Some of us are locked up because we deserve to be.’

She touched him tenderly, her fingers curling round the hairs on his broad chest. ‘If you’d rather I left …’ her voice was like silk in his ear, ‘I’ll go now … if that’s what you really want?’

‘O’ course it’s not what I want.’ His features softened. ‘You don’t know how glad I am that you took me home that night,’ he said gratefully. ‘I were in a bad state – drunker than I’ve ever been in my life.’

She gave a soft, knowing laugh. ‘You were in need of help.’

With a wicked look in his eye, he asked meaningfully, ‘And are you in need of help?’

‘You know I am. Why else would I be here?’

Grabbing her to him, he kissed her hard on the mouth, one hand undoing her dress, the other snaking round her waist.

There was little foreplay and even less tenderness. It wasn’t long before they were naked and locked together, writhing on the floor in ecstasy. The coupling was fast and furious, leaving them collapsed into each other, gasping and breathless.

A short time later, the cabbie almost leaped out of his skin when she banged on the window. ‘Open the door, dammit!’ In the streetlight, with her face pressed to the window, she made a frightening sight to a poor wakening man.

Scrambling across the seat, he opened the door. ‘What time is it?’

She was smiling like a cat who’d got the cream. ‘It’s time to take me home,’ she said.

And because his every instinct told him she was trouble, he lost no time in taking her home as fast as he could.

Edna hurried home to Peter Street.

‘I’ve kept the kettle on to boil.’ A small, round figure with balding head and pot belly, Harry had been wed to Edna these past forty years, and he loved her now as much as he had ever done. ‘Sit yerself down, lass.’ Scrambling out of the chair, he began his way to the kitchen. ‘I’ll mek yer a brew.’

When the tea was made, the two of them sat before the fire, comfortable in each other’s company, and as always, the low-burning fire making them drowsy. ‘Everything all right when you got back there, lass?’

‘Aye, in the end,’ she replied.

‘Don’t let that woman upset you, lass. She’s not worth losing a minute’s sleep over.’ Sliding down in the chair he closed his eyes.

Seemingly unaware that her husband was ready for his bed, Edna remarked on what she had overheard. ‘That devil were calling me names again.’

Looking up, Harry scratched his head. ‘What’s that you say, lass?’

Edna tutted. ‘Sylvia’s awful sister. She were calling me names to Mr Hammond.’

He shook his head in disgust. ‘She’s a bad lot, is that one. Anyway, how d’yer know she were calling yer names? Did Mr Hammond mention it then?’

‘Naw, course he didn’t. He would never do that. He doesn’t like trouble, doesn’t Mr Hammond; he prefers a peaceful life. No, I overheard the two of them talking about Sylvia, and I heard her say as how I weren’t fit to be looking after her. She reckons he should get somebody more suited.’

‘Huh! He’ll not get nobody more suited than you, lass. By! You’ve got more qualifications an’ experience than she’ll ever have!’

Edna smiled at that. ‘You allus did credit me with more than I deserve.’ Though she did allow herself a little pat on the back. ‘But you’re right o’ course,’ she conceded. ‘I worked long and hard over the years, and if I say so meself, I look after Sylvia better than anyone else ever could … matter o’ fact I don’t think she’d ever agree to anybody else taking care of her. Y’see, she’s come to rely on me for everything.’

Harry couldn’t agree more. ‘Aye! An’ that’s ’cos she loves you like you were her own mammy,’ he retorted. ‘Look, lass. You tek no notice o’ that sister of hers. She’s an out-and-out troublemaker. Like you say, she’s got her eye on Luke Hammond, and soonever his wife is out of it, she’ll be in there afore yer can thread a needle.’

Edna laughed at his boldness. ‘And you’re right,’ she told him, with a loving pat on the hand. ‘But I mentioned that to you in confidence, so you must never repeat it to another soul, or I’ll be sent packing for good, and no mistake.’

By the time she’d finished speaking, he was beginning to nod off. ‘Hey! Come on, you.’ Shaking him fully awake, she urged, ‘Off to bed with you, an’ I’ll be up alongside you in a few minutes.

After he’d gone, she thought about the conversation between Luke Hammond and his scheming sister-in-law. Harry’s right she thought. That sister of hers is a devil in the making!

She thought of Sylvia’s predicament. ‘I do love that poor lass, though,’ she muttered. ‘By! If her sister had her way, Sylvia would be shut away in some institution or another by now, leaving the coast clear for that madam Georgina to work her wiles. But thankfully, the lass will be safe enough.’ She comforted herself with the thought. While Luke Hammond has the final say, his wife will be well looked after, God willing. With me there to tend her every need.