Читать книгу Josephine Cox Mother’s Day 3-Book Collection: Live the Dream, Lovers and Liars, The Beachcomber - Josephine Cox - Страница 18

IRENE PACED THE floor, a cigarette in one hand and a port and lemon in the other. ‘Where the devil is she?’ Pausing, she took a puff of her cigarette and squashed it into the ashtray. She finished off her drink, replacing the glass on the table beside the smart black telephone, before grabbing the receiver. For the umpteenth time she asked for Samantha’s number.

Yet again, there was no answer. She slammed the receiver down and began pacing again. ‘Wretched girl! Why is she never here when I need her?’

The sudden, invasive sound of the doorbell startled her. Rushing to the window, she peered out to see her daughter Samantha at the door, impatiently ringing the bell. Now, seeing her mother, she threw out her arms in frustration. ‘Let me in, for Chrissake!’

As soon as Irene opened the door, she fled past her into the living room. Irene followed. ‘Wherever have you been? These past few days I’ve tried time and again to contact you, but you’re never home!’ Irene was not best pleased. She was used to people being at her beck and call.

‘I took a few days off. Is that so terrible?’ Looking slightly dishevelled and seeming somehow disturbed, Samantha rounded on her. ‘Anyway, I’ve told you before, I won’t come running every time you call. Just because you had a new telephone installed for me doesn’t mean you’ve a right to call me every hour of the day or night! Why don’t you leave me alone?’ she asked.

‘Leave you alone? Just look at the state of you!’ Taking a minute to observe her, Irene noted the untidy hair and the rumpled clothes. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ She was visibly shocked. It wasn’t often her daughter spoke to her in that way. A closer look showed how her daughter’s face was unusually flushed, and there was something unnerving about her that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. ‘Where’ve you been?’ she persisted.

Samantha seemed not to have heard. Instead she ranted on. ‘All the time … calling me up! Expecting me to run round here like a dog for a treat.’ Swinging round, she glared at her mother with a look of hatred. ‘I’ve told you before, Mother. I have got a life of my own, you know!’

Walking towards her, Irene grabbed her by the shoulders. ‘Don’t you speak to me like that … after all I’ve done for you.’ Summoning all her formidable authority, she gave Samantha a vicious shake. ‘What have you been doing? Why couldn’t I get hold of you?’

Suddenly, Samantha was crying. ‘It’s all your fault. You got me used to having expensive things, and then, whenever you feel like it, you cut me off. Oh, it’s all right when you want me round … leaning on me, making demands … do this, Samantha … do that! And if I don’t dance to your tune, I’m cast aside like some kind of rubbish.’ The tears flowed and the rage subsided. In its place came the pitiful obedience that Irene had come to expect.

‘I’ve been good to you, Samantha. I gave you a house, and jewellery worth a small fortune … which you couldn’t wait to sell, damn you! I’ve warned you time and again about being so extravagant, but you take no notice. If you’re not going off to these wild parties, you’re entertaining undesirables at home. You spend money like it falls out of the sky, and I’m left to pick up the pieces.’

Lowering her voice, she warned, ‘I can’t go on rescuing you. I haven’t got endless funds. Richard isn’t a stupid man. I have to be careful.’

‘Don’t give me that, Mother. You can twist him round your little finger. Besides, it won’t be long now before you get the lot!’

Choosing to ignore this remark, Irene told her in a quiet, authoritative voice, ‘I’ll ask you once more.’ Looking her daughter in the eye, she demanded to know, ‘Where have you been?’

‘I’ve been away.’ Thrusting her mother off, Samantha strode across the room, where she leaned on the fireplace, staring defiantly. ‘Why? Am I not allowed to go away like normal people?’ It was at times like these that the nastiness of the mother was evident in the daughter. ‘Am I supposed to ask you for permission, or what?’

Lighting another cigarette, Irene gave her a cool, patient look. ‘You still haven’t answered me.’

‘That’s because it’s none of your damned business!’ Looking uncomfortable, Samantha took a moment to gaze absent-mindedly out the window. When she next spoke, it was not to answer her mother’s question directly, but to put a question of her own. ‘You know I got a job as receptionist, in that new hotel on the outskirts of town?’

‘A job of which I never approved. I’ve told you before, there’s no need for you to work if you don’t want to. You know I’ll always look after you. I’ve said so often enough. But I can’t have you wasting money, left right and centre.’

Taking a long drag of her cigarette, she blew out the smoke in long, swirling tails that settled between them like a veiled curtain. ‘So, what have you been up to?’

‘What the hell d’you mean?’

‘Don’t play the innocent with me. Come on, out with it. You always come running to me when you’ve done something wrong. What is it now?’

‘I haven’t done anything wrong! Why do you always assume everything is my fault?’

‘Because it usually is!’ Scowling, she stared hard at this young woman who had turned out to be such a disappointment. ‘They sacked you, didn’t they?’ She laughed, a hard, cynical laugh that showed her delight.

Samantha was defiant. ‘It wasn’t my fault!’ she claimed. ‘The idiots sacked me for arguing with the head receptionist – a silly, spiteful old bitch who took a dislike to me straight away. She goaded me until I thought she should have a piece of my mind. It got a bit out of hand, and she went behind my back to the manager. I was finished on the spot. They wouldn’t even listen to my side of the story!’

Irene shook her head. ‘You never learn, do you?’ she commented drily. ‘But I can’t say I’m sorry they finished with you. I never wanted you working there in the first place.’

‘Please, Mother, I haven’t come here to be lectured.’

‘All right. I can see you’re worried.’ Squashing the second cigarette into the ashtray, she came to where Samantha had sulkily flung herself into the red leather settee. ‘I’ll help you over this one, but you’re going to have to curb your spending. I can’t keep up with you. I won’t!’ She gave her daughter a prod. ‘You sold all my jewellery, damn you! But you should still have money left from what I gave you before … haven’t you?’

‘No.’ Now as Samantha glanced up, her face seemed haunted. ‘It’s all gone.’

Irene knew her daughter too well. ‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’ she prompted. ‘Something you’re afraid to tell me.’

There was a moment when Samantha looked away, before she answered in a sorry little voice, ‘It’s the house.’

‘What about the house?’

‘I took out a loan against it, and now they want all the back payments or they’ll take the house.’

Taking a step backwards, Irene was visibly shocked. Her icy composure vanished. ‘You what?’ Taking a step forward, she slapped Samantha hard across the face. ‘You stupid little bitch! I told you never to do that. I warned you, it was the one thing you should never risk. And now you tell me they’re about to repossess it. Well, let them! If they throw you out on the street, don’t come running to me, because I’ve had enough! Get out of here. Go on … I don’t want to see you any more.’

‘Please, Mother!’ Samantha revealed her crafty plan. ‘Father should never have left that house to Kathy. By rights it’s half mine. I can take her to court and make her sell it.’

Irene shook her head. She was adamant. ‘No court in the land would make her sell it to give you half. She was given her father’s house, and you were given mine. Out of the two of you, I’d say you got the best deal, wouldn’t you?’

‘Oh, please, Mother, you’ve got to help me.’ She always knew how to turn on the tears, but now, seeing that she had gone too far, Samantha was genuinely frightened. ‘Don’t turn me away.’

For what seemed an age, her mother stared at her. She suddenly saw how, in comparison to Kathy, this daughter was weak and useless, and in some measure she knew she must take the blame. She’d always thought Samantha was like her. She had cultivated and trained her, dreaming of only the best for her eldest child. But she had spoiled her. And Samantha had none of her own backbone.

‘All right! I’ll help you, but only this once. I’ll clear the loan on the house, but I insist you come with me to a solicitor and ask if there can be some sort of agreement drawn up, to safeguard the house.’

Though she didn’t like the idea, Samantha had no option. ‘All right, Mother, anything you say.’

Heaving a deep sigh, Irene opened her arms. ‘Come here, child.’

Greatly relieved, Samantha went to her, and they hugged for a time until, stepping back, Samantha asked greedily, ‘When he’s gone, it won’t matter, will it? Because we’ll be rich, won’t we?’

Irene smiled. ‘I’ll be rich!’ she reminded her. ‘When Richard breathes his last I’ll be worth a fortune.’ She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. ‘After I’ve sold the business, I intend to spend like never before.’ She giggled like a schoolgirl. ‘Who knows? I might even meet a proper man – one with youth and looks, who knows how to look after a lady …’ She smiled slyly. ‘If you know what I mean?’

‘So! I’m not a proper man, is that what you think?’ While the two of them laughed at the prospect of Richard’s demise and their good fortune, he had watched from the doorway. Having overheard everything, he was white with rage; bitter with himself for having been taken in so easily.

Shocked to the core, Irene and Samantha stared at him. ‘No, Richard, you’ve got it all wrong!’ Starting towards him, a look of innocence on her face, Irene cajoled, ‘I didn’t mean it like that.… I … just …’ Now, as he put up his two hands, she stopped in her tracks. ‘You must know how much I love you.’

He laughed. ‘I thought I did, but I was wrong. I see you now for what you really are. I’ve known for some time how you’ve been bailing her out … squandering my hard-earned money. Well, not any more. I might be old, but I’m not completely senile. I’ve worked too long and hard to give it all away to two scheming parasites like you.’

Clenching a fist, he shook it at them, his harsh words addressed to Irene. ‘From now on, I intend keeping a tight rein on every penny. If you want so much as a new pair of stockings, you’ll have to ask me. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

He pointed to Samantha who was cowering back. ‘As for your bone-idle offspring … she can work for what she wants, the same as I’ve had to do all these years.’

He gave Irene a withering stare. ‘For the sake of appearance, I won’t see you on the street. You are my wife, after all.’ His voice shook with anger. ‘Though, God knows, any other man would have you out the door with only the shirt on your back!’

Ignoring her continuing pleas, he warned, ‘When I leave this house now, I intend going straight round to my solicitor.’

Horrified, Irene grasped the implications. ‘No, Richard. Please! Don’t do anything reckless. We need to talk. I want to explain …’

‘The time for talking is over.’ Smiling, he nodded. ‘But don’t worry, my dear. I’m not about to do anything “reckless”. In fact, I’ve already done that in marrying you.’ His once-handsome features hardened. ‘But I’ll tell you this much: by the time I’ve finished, I’ll have my will so watertight that neither you nor your wasteful daughter will ever get your hands on a single penny. Not while I’m here on this earth, and not when I’m gone.’ His smile was withering. ‘That much you can count on.’

As he walked out, Irene ran after him. ‘No, Richard … give me time to explain. You misunderstood … Richard!’

But he was already gone, and Irene was devastated.

Behind her, Samantha’s thoughts were already turning to her sister, Kathy.