Читать книгу Josephine Cox Mother’s Day 3-Book Collection: Live the Dream, Lovers and Liars, The Beachcomber - Josephine Cox - Страница 20

MAGGIE WAS ON her second warning. Being a cinema attendant was her third job since Kathy left and, though she loved it, she could not seem to keep out of trouble. Now, having been hauled before the manager yet again, she was defending her action. ‘The little sod needed throwing out! I told him time and again and still he wouldn’t listen. How can anybody watch the bleedin’ film with kids shouting and bawling all over the place?’

‘Be quiet!’ At the end of his tether, the manager observed her through narrowed eyes. ‘Just look at yourself!’ He had made many mistakes in his time, but never as bad as when he gave this one a job. ‘You’re a disgrace!’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean … you’re too … too …’ Shrugging his narrow shoulders, he couldn’t quite think of the right words. ‘You just don’t make the right impression on the customers.’ Seeing her now, bristling with defiance, wild black hair tumbling around her face with its crimson lips, he despaired. ‘For a start you’re made up like a tart off the streets; you’re forever arguing with your workmates; and you’re always finding fault with the customers. Jesus! I’ve lost count of the number of people you’ve thrown out … often for something as trivial as getting out of their seats to go to the toilet!’

Maggie bristled. ‘That’s not true. If you’re talking about that man who caused a riot when he stood up in the row, he was getting ready for fisticuffs with the man behind … it weren’t my fault if he kept kicking him in the backside every time the film got exciting.’ She let out a throaty laugh. ‘Besides, he were a big bloke. I’ll have you know I took my life in my hands when I threw that one out.’

‘Enough!’ The manager waved his hand. ‘All that aside, what about the times I’ve caught you in the best seats up there in the gallery, blatantly watching the film instead of tending to the people downstairs.’

Leaning back in his seat, he groaned. ‘Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t finish you here and now?’

‘Because I’ve got you by the short and curlies, that’s why!’ Maggie had a way with words. ‘If I was to tell your wife what we get up to after everybody else has gone home, she’d string you up from the highest lamp-post.’

With a nervous giggle, he called her bluff. ‘I know my wife, and she would never believe you.’

‘Fair enough.’ Maggie knew he was bluffing. ‘Let’s put it to the test, shall we?’

Scrambling out of his chair, he almost ran to where she stood. ‘Now, now, Maggie, let’s not be too hasty.’ Pressing himself against her, he stroked her arm. ‘I dare say I could forget that last complaint.’

Maggie gave him a cool stare. ‘If you mean the old biddy who threatened me with her umbrella, I don’t give a bugger. If I ever set eyes on her again, I swear, I’ll knock her lights out. I don’t stand for nobody questioning my authority.’ She squared her shoulders. ‘When I’m out there, this uniform counts for something. That’s what you told me when you gave me the job, an’ I’m not having a bleedin’ old cow like that tell me what to do!’

‘Well, of course you’re right, Maggie.’ The thought of his wife finding out about his antics under the stage sent a cold shiver through the manager. ‘That uniform does mean something.’

‘So, I can carry on as usual then?’ She knew she had him right where she wanted him.

‘Absolutely!’ He felt his heart sink to his boots. But at least he was thankful that Maggie wouldn’t tell his wife.

‘Right then!’ Maggie turned to leave with a cheeky smile. ‘I’d best get on. They’ll be arriving any minute. Sandra’s off sick as well, you know, so that only leaves me and Doreen.’

As she crossed the room, he dared to run after her. ‘Wait, wait!’

Swinging round, she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘What now?’

Putting his arms round her waist, he smiled, that smarmy little smile she had come to know so well. ‘What say you try a little harder to be nice to people?’

‘What people?’

‘You know very well what people! The people who pay good money to come and watch a film; the people who pay your wages and mine … the people who you seem to think are nothing but a nuisance. Be nice to them, that’s all I’m asking. See if you can speak to them without shouting … and don’t threaten to throw their kids out on the street for the slightest little thing.’ Exasperated, he pleaded, ‘Just let them watch the film in peace.’

Looking him in the eye, she continued to chew her gum, then she considered what he’d said, and took no notice at all. ‘Right.’ Taking out her chewing gum, she slapped it in his hand, and off she went, leaving him open-mouthed, and wishing he was anywhere but there, with the incorrigible Maggie; until he recalled in the twinkle of an eye what a randy devil she was when roused. With that in mind, he went back to his work with a smile on his face.

Out in the foyer, the woman in the ticket-booth gave Maggie a bit of good advice. ‘You’d do well to watch your step with that one. He can be a nasty little man.’ Lowering her voice, she imparted a bit of gossip she’d heard from Sandra. ‘I’m told he tries it on with all the girls … aims to get his wicked way with them, that’s what I’ve heard.’

Maggie gave her a wink. ‘Don’t you worry, gal. If he tries it on with me, he’ll get what’s coming to him!’

‘Good girl.’ The woman failed to see the double meaning behind Maggie’s naughty words. ‘I’m glad to see you can look after yourself,’ she said.

Maggie laughed. ‘Oh, I can do that all right,’ she said. ‘I’d like a pound for every man who’s tried it on with me.’ And got his wicked way, she thought.

Suddenly the outer doors opened and in came a rush of people, all jostling to be first to the ticket-booth. ‘One at a time, if you please!’ The woman never did like being under siege. ‘You’ll not get served any quicker by pushing and shoving.’

Smiling to herself, Maggie was off. ‘I’d best go and check inside.’

While the older woman settled herself in the ticket-booth, Maggie went to the cloakroom, where she repainted her lips and brushed her hair. When that was done, she took a look at herself in the long mirror. ‘It’s no wonder the men fancy you,’ she muttered with a wide grin. ‘You’re such a good-looking gal.’

Another few minutes to straighten her usherette’s hat and tweak at her red uniform, with its smart little jacket and straight skirt. Then, off she went to meet the army that would soon be pouring in for the Saturday matinée. ‘And don’t forget what he said,’ she warned herself. ‘Be nice to the people.’ Though it wasn’t easy when some little horror was being allowed to paint the seats with ice-cream or run about yelling and screaming when other people were trying to watch the film. ‘Stay calm, gal,’ she told herself. ‘Don’t let the buggers get to you.’

Going through the big double doors, she collected her torch from the cubby-hole and began making her way back to the door. Before opening the doors she looked around her; at the row upon row of red seats; plastic fold-up seats at the back and plush red at the front where they cost threepence more. Bursting with pride, she thought, ‘Oh, if only Kathy could see me now.’

She turned her eyes upwards to the little circles that jutted out like eyelids, and the long red curtains at the exit doors, and finally at the big, wide screen that sat like a king on its own stage. ‘One day, I’ll be up there,’ she murmured, ‘when some talent scout spots me and sees what I’m worth.’ Sadly, Maggie’s unfulfilled dreams were many and varied. With that she threw open the doors, where already the customers waited to be let in. With as much pleasure as she could muster she led them two by two along the aisle to their seats.

She shone her torch for them to see their way through the dimly lit cinema, seating them and smiling sweetly before making her way back to the doors. ‘So far so good,’ she muttered through gritted teeth.

It was only when a rather large woman arrived with two children that the smile faded; it was the very same woman who had complained to the manager. Now, on seeing Maggie, she warned in a shrill voice, ‘Don’t you start on me!’ Thrusting her two children behind her, she waited for Maggie to retaliate.

When, instead, Maggie smiled at her, the poor woman was flustered and confused. Grabbing the children, she hurried to their seats, where she sat silent, occasionally peeping at Maggie and thinking she must have had a telling-off, or why would she be so nice? Whatever the reason, it was unnerving.

For the first half of the new horror film, The Ghost Ship, everything went well. There were a few screams from the front when the young couple began hearing strange noises, but that was only to be expected; even Maggie had a scary moment. It wasn’t long before half the people in the cinema were yelling for the heroes to ‘Get out of there!’

Otherwise it seemed quiet enough; until a particularly creepy moment caused a young girl to scream in terror. That set off everybody else, and somewhere at the front a child started crying. Then an argument broke out; Maggie, with torch at the ready, set off to investigate.

When she got there, it wasn’t the children causing the trouble. It was a frail old woman and a burly hunk of a man, who by the time she got there were already in the throes of a heated argument. ‘She attacked me with her stick!’ The big man was leaning threateningly over the woman’s seat in front. ‘I’m not taking that from nobody, least of all a senile old busybody!’

The words were hardly out of his mouth when the woman upped with her stick and cracked him neatly on the head. All hell broke loose.

To her credit, Maggie did manage to calm them down, while from the adjoining rows there were shouts of ‘Shut up!’ and ‘Sit down!’ There was even a call to ‘Fetch the manager!’

While the big man was willing to forget the aggravation, the elderly woman was not. ‘I want him thrown out,’ she demanded. ‘He’s been kicking me in the back of my chair. I warned him time and again to sit still, but he wouldn’t. Every time something happened in the film, he kicked me again.’ In spite of Maggie’s surprisingly calm attempts, she would not settle. In fact, while Maggie was pleading with the man, the old biddy raised her stick and gave him another sound smack. When he snatched the stick and threw it aside, she calmly reached into her pocket and, taking out a small snuff tin, she opened it up and threw the contents all over him.

The poor man was half blinded, and so were most of the people sitting alongside. The chaos was widespread, with everybody coughing and sneezing, and somewhere near the aisle a fight broke out; stalwart as ever, Maggie tried desperately to separate the warring pair.

Suddenly the film was stopped, and the manager rushed into the fray, the ticket lady and another usherette bringing up the rear. ‘What the devil’s going on here?’ he demanded to know.

Somehow, amidst all the booing and screams of ‘Get the picture back on!’, they managed to separate the injured and led them up the aisle to the first-aid room.

Right behind them, Maggie marched the offending couple to the door. ‘I shan’t be coming here again!’ The old lady was adamant. ‘And neither will I!’ The man was equally adamant. And, after a stream of abuse, all aimed at Maggie, they went off down the street chatting to each other like two old friends.

Inside, with the film now back on, the people were happily screaming, while Maggie stood at the back, brushing the brown snuff from her lovely uniform, and rubbing her sore eyes.

She almost leapt out of her skin when the manager seemed to creep up behind her. ‘See me in the office afterwards,’ he said, before shuffling away. Her heart sank.

When the picture was over and everyone filed out, Maggie closed the door behind them. ‘I’d best get this lot totted up,’ the ticket woman said, and got out her adding machine.

Leaving her there, Maggie made her way to the office, where the manager was pacing up and down. ‘It’s no good,’ he told Maggie as she came through the door, ‘this is the last straw.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Huh! I’m surprised you need to ask. It was bloody mayhem in there! We had to give fourteen people their money back, and I’ve no doubt that, come tomorrow, the complaints will be pouring in.’ He observed her uniform, stained with snuff, and her eyes all red and sore where she’d been rubbing them. ‘Look at you, woman! You’re a mess …’

Maggie was up in arms. ‘It wasn’t my fault.’

‘Oh no!’ He threw up his hands in frustration. ‘It never is, but somehow when Sandra’s away and you’re up front, the world goes mad! I’m sorry, Maggie, I’ll have to let you go. You seem to forget I don’t own this place. I’m just the manager. I work for a wage the same as the rest of you.’ Though he was fearful of her reaction, he would rather she got the sack than him. ‘You stay here while I collect the takings. I’ll have to pay you out of that, and rectify it later. I’ll give you two weeks’ severance, and a fortnight’s holiday pay. That’s more than generous if you ask me.’ In fact part of it was a bribe to keep her mouth shut about his indiscretions. He would have to make the difference up out of his own pocket, but that would be a small price to pay for getting rid of her.

By the time he got to the ticket-booth, Edith had already bagged the money. ‘We’re well short,’ she said, handing it over with the ledger. ‘Having to pay back on fourteen tickets left a big hole in the takings.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it.’ He bade her and the other usherette goodnight. ‘See you tomorrow, Mr Ellis,’ they chorused. And they went away laughing about the night’s events. ‘You never can tell what might happen in this place when Maggie’s about,’ said the usherette as their laughter echoed through the darkened street.

While the manager was gone, Maggie waited. She was fed up: she’d liked the job. ‘I suppose it’s time I moved on,’ she mused. ‘With a few weeks’ pay, I can go and see Kathy. I might even be able to get a job with her at that holiday site.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘I might even find myself a proper bloke.’

Just then the telephone rang. Intrigued, Maggie picked it up. ‘Hello, this is the Rialto. Can I help you?’ She liked to answer the telephone; it gave her a feeling of authority.

The caller was the manager’s wife. ‘Could you please bring my husband to the phone?’

Maggie had an idea. ‘Oh, Mrs Ellis, I’m glad you called, I was just looking for your number … y’see, your husband’s not very well. Oh, no, he’s not bad enough to send for an ambulance. He seems to think it’s something he ate. The trouble is, he’s been sick and he feels really queasy. He needs a lift home, and I can’t help. I only wish I could.’

‘Get him a taxi.’

‘I’ve tried, but I can’t seem to find one. So, do you think you could come and fetch him?’

The voice at the other end shook with anger. ‘I suppose I’ll have to, won’t I?’ And the receiver was slammed down.

A moment later the manager returned. ‘Now then, let’s get this over with.’ Throwing himself into his seat, he reached into the desk and got out his adding machine, which he proceeded to tap, while at the same time telling her, ‘I don’t have to pay you a month’s wages, but I think we know each other well enough to realise this situation can’t go on.’ Bagging her wages, he slid them across the desk and sat back, eyes closed and his hand soothing his brow. ‘It’s all there. Now get out!’

When she didn’t answer, he glanced up and was rooted to the spot: while he had been tapping away, Maggie had been undoing her jacket. Now she stood before him with her breasts in all their naked glory. ‘Jesus!’ His face went a purple shade of red and the sweat broke out in torrents down his back. ‘Put your clothes on, woman, before somebody comes in!’ His eyeballs swivelled to the door then back to Maggie, and with his mouth open he gaped at her, positively dribbling. ‘You little vixen.’ He tried hard to hold the smile down but, like a certain other part of his body, it popped up, out of control. ‘Maggie, behave!’ In truth, Maggie behaving was the last thing he wanted.

Maggie smiled seductively. ‘They’ve all gone home, my love,’ she teased, ‘we’re on our own now.’ Sidling up to the desk, she leaned over, her rather ample breasts almost touching his face as she purred invitingly, ‘I thought we might say our goodbyes properly. After all, we have been very close, haven’t we?’

Realising what she meant, he gulped so hard that his Adam’s apple bobbed up, getting stuck for a minute, before it bobbed down again. ‘Oooh, whatever will I do with you?’

It was all she could do not to laugh out loud. ‘Whatever takes your fancy,’ she said and, grabbing him by the collar, drew him forward, planting the longest, wettest kiss of his entire life on his open mouth; by which time he was putty in her hands.

A few minutes later, with Maggie in his arms, the door opened and in walked his wife. It was what Maggie had been waiting for. ‘NO! Get off me!’ Putting on the best show of her life, Maggie pretended to fight him off. As soon as he realised what she was up to, he began shouting about how it was all Maggie’s fault. ‘She’s a witch! She enticed me …’

Falling all over the place as he tried desperately to do up his trousers, the poor man was assailed from both sides, with Maggie thrashing him with her shoe, and his wife tugging at his arm until he was sure it had come off at the socket. ‘You’re a beast!’ she cried. ‘You’ve always been a beast. This is the third time I’ve caught you at it, but it won’t happen again because I’m off.’

She landed such a slap on his face that it echoed round the room, and even Maggie took a step back. ‘I won’t forgive you this time!’ she cried. ‘By the time you get home, I’ll have packed my bags and be long gone!’

Ducking and diving between the two, Maggie grabbed her wages and, buttoning up her jacket, she headed for the door. ‘I don’t blame you,’ she cried. ‘The man’s off his head. He just went for me. He pinned me down and tore my clothes off. I’m going to the police. I’ll make him pay for this! He’s a maniac. He should be locked up!’ Turning on the tears, she looked bereft.

‘No, please.’ Being a respectable woman, his wife didn’t want to become the target of such gossip. ‘Don’t do that.’ Taking some notes from her handbag, she thrust them into Maggie’s hands. ‘Here, take this.’ A horrid thought occurred to her. ‘My God! He didn’t …’ She glared at her husband, ‘You didn’t …?’

Seeming demure, Maggie looked down, ‘No, he didn’t. But he would have if you hadn’t come in.’ Clutching the money in one hand, she dabbed at her eyes with the other and pretended to cry. ‘You don’t know how glad I was to see you.’ Out of the corner of her eye she saw the accused cowering by the door, muttering to himself and glaring at her with such malice she had to catch her breath. ‘I was so frightened.’

‘All right, dear.’ The woman helped fasten her blouse. ‘Look, you go away and don’t say anything. I’ll deal with him!’

With several weeks’ wages in her pocket, the notes in her hands and a smile on her face, Maggie took her leave.

Outside she could hear the shouting and arguing, and laughed out loud. ‘That’ll teach you to sack me, you old bugger!’

She flagged down a taxi. ‘Take me to Sooty’s club,’ she told the driver, ‘I’m celebrating.’ And why not? she thought. She had more money than she’d had for ages, and plenty of time on her hands. What’s more, she had cause to celebrate.

The taxi-driver laughed. ‘Come into money, ’ave yer?’

Maggie trusted nobody. ‘No, not really,’ she answered cagily, ‘I’ve just finished work.’

‘I can see that.’ He had picked her up outside the picture-house and seen her uniform. ‘That’s an usherette’s uniform you’re wearing, ain’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Like your job, do yer?’

‘It’s all right,’ Maggie chuckled, ‘but I should have been an actress.’

As they drove on, she thought of Kathy. ‘Watch out, gal!’ she muttered. ‘I’m on my way.’

Samantha was hopping mad. ‘Don’t you understand? I’ve got nothing! My house has gone and I’ve no job.’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Martin, but, as I see it, you have no call on your sister’s house. According to the will, and what you’ve already told me, the house was bought in her name and passes to your sister without condition. On your mother’s marriage to Mr Lennox, you were given the family home, also without condition. This house was debt-free and, as you yourself said, in excellent condition. The fact that you lost it does not in the eyes of the law give you the right to a share of your sister’s property.’

‘What kind of solicitor are you?’ Samantha was vitriolic in defeat. ‘It was my mother who gave me the house. My father left me nothing. I’m destitute. I’m having to live in rented property again. I have debts that need paying, and there are no decent jobs to be had. My mother’s got herself in a situation where she can’t help, and the only way out is for me to take back from Kathy what should have been mine in the first place. After all, I am the eldest. I should have been left the house, not her.’

‘Not necessarily. Being the eldest does not automatically make you the heir. In any case, your father bought the house in your sister’s name. I’m afraid I can see no way round it.’

‘You must be able to do something! Bring her to court. Make her sell the house and give me half the proceeds. Christ Almighty, I would have thought it was simple enough!’ Springing out of her chair, she banged her fist on the desk. ‘If you won’t do it, I’ll find someone who will.’

Getting slowly out of his seat, the solicitor stood up, his face twitching with anger as he told her calmly, ‘That’s entirely up to you. But, as far as I’m concerned, you have no case.’ He thought she was the most selfish, spiteful and bone-idle creature that ever crossed his threshold. ‘But you do have choices … three, in fact.’

Samantha’s eyes lit up. ‘Well, now we’re talking. And what are they, might I ask?’

‘Well, you could get another job and work your way out of trouble. You might think about getting married … to someone who can satisfy your taste for expensive things.’ Her exquisitely tailored clothes and the diamond ring on her right hand had not gone unnoticed. ‘Or, you could go to your sister and beg her to help … if, of course, she is in a position to do so, and if she has a mind to help someone who is so obviously out to ruin her.’

While the unpalatable ‘choices’ were spelled out for her, Samantha’s hands clenched and unclenched. Now, as she spoke, her voice shook with rage. ‘How dare you? I could report you for speaking to me like that.’

Quite unconcerned, he smiled. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘I am merely expressing the choices you have, as I see them.’

Straightening up, she took a long, noisy breath through her nostrils. Staring at him with murder in her eyes, she threatened, ‘My stepfather is a powerful, influential man. I shall tell him how you treated me, and you may be sure he will be in touch! Moreover, I shall make certain my friends are warned about you.’

Unmoved, he returned the copy of her father’s will. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help,’ he said, then showed her the door. Head high, she marched out, threatening hell and damnation as she went.

Shaking his head, he closed the door and returned to his work.

He’d had them all in this office at some time or another: the evil and the gullible, and those who were really in need of help. But this one was unique. A woman who was able enough to work but chose not to, who had squandered her own inheritance and who, without compunction, was prepared to rob her sister of her home, had to be amongst the worst.

Going to the window, he flung it open, as though needing to rid the room of her presence.

In Bridport, Kathy made straight for the café and Mabel.

Seeing the older woman at the far end of the room, Kathy gave a quick wave and, smiling, Mabel hurried down to be with her. ‘It’s good to see you,’ she said. ‘I’ll be finished in a minute or two, then you can walk me home and stay for a cup of tea. We’ve not been so busy today, and I’ve had very little company.’

Patting Kathy’s arm affectionately, she added, ‘Besides, we hardly ever get time to talk properly, do we, dear?’ Kathy had to agree.

A short time later, arm in arm, the two of them strolled down the street, Mabel setting the pace, and Kathy content to chat as they walked. ‘Will your husband be in?’ She had visions of that ugly lout waiting for them as they entered the house.

Mabel shook her head. ‘He’s off down the pub with his cronies,’ she answered. ‘Come Friday, he can’t wait to pack up and get away.’

Sensing the sadness underlying Mabel’s words, Kathy merely nodded. And no more was said on the matter.

The cottage was spotless; every nook and cranny scrubbed and shining, and each ornament polished until you could see your face in it. ‘This is such a pretty place, Mabel!’ Kathy thought it enchanting.

Peeking out the back window, she observed the same loving care and attention to detail: the tin bath hanging neatly on its hook, the flagstones washed clean, and the pegs on the line all lined up like little wooden soldiers. Even the brick walls were washed white.

Mabel was flattered. ‘I like to potter about,’ she answered. ‘If I had more spare time, I’d have it looking even nicer.’ Going into the scullery, she put the kettle on to boil. ‘And how are you, my dear?’ she called out. ‘Settling in all right now, are you?’

‘I’m doing fine,’ Kathy answered, but did not sound very convincing.

Returning with the tray, Mabel set it down on the table. ‘What’s wrong?’ Pouring them each a cup of tea, she handed Kathy hers and sat opposite on the big armchair. ‘Family, is it?’ she asked. In her experience it was always family that caused the worries.

‘I just can’t understand,’ Kathy began, knowing she could confide in this dear soul. ‘My sister Samantha is beautiful, spoiled, selfish, and greedy. She has little compassion for those around her, she treats Mother like dirt, and yet, in Mother’s eyes, she can do no wrong.’

‘I see.’ Mabel had heard it all before. ‘And why do you think that is?’

‘I’m not sure, but I imagine it’s to do with Mother’s personal disappointments.’ Kathy had often thought about it and this was the only answer she had come up with. ‘I reckon Mother only wanted one child, a beautiful creature much like herself … someone people would pause in the streets to look at, and gasp with admiration.’

‘I see. And that was Samantha, was it?’

Kathy nodded. ‘Then I came along … an accident, no doubt; plain and noisy with chubby legs and unruly hair. I spoiled all her ideas of being special, and having that one very cherished, magnificent child.’

Mabel was having none of it. ‘You’re certainly not “plain”, or “noisy”. You’re a very pretty young woman with a beautiful nature.’

Kathy smiled naughtily. ‘And chubby legs.’

Mabel returned her smile. ‘We can’t all be perfect, but there are worse things than a sturdy pair of legs, my dear!’

Kathy satisfied Mabel’s curiosity about Samantha, and in the telling, Kathy began to feel less disillusioned about the situation between herself, her mother and Samantha, though she knew things would never change. ‘It’s too late for all that,’ she told Mabel. ‘Mother gets worse as she gets older. She’s one of those people who are never satisfied with what life gives them. She yearns for glamour and excitement … all the things she never quite seemed to acquire. You see, she married my father, a quiet, hard-working man who worked long hours to provide her with a lovely house and expensive clothes and other luxuries she may never have enjoyed. When Father was lost to us, she seemed to grow more arrogant and domineering. There was no living with her.’

Mabel could see the regret in Kathy’s troubled eyes. ‘You loved your father very much, didn’t you, my dear?’

Kathy nodded. ‘He was a very special man … he loved me for what I am, not for what I might have been. As for Mother, I can’t remember a time when she put her arms around me with affection, or told me she loved me, or held my hand as we crossed the road.’ Her voice broke. ‘Do you know, Mabel, there were times when I thought she’d be happier if I’d never been born.’

‘Oh, I’m sure that’s not true, my dear. No mother could ever wish that.’

It did Kathy’s heart good to talk with this sweet, kind old dear, who was more of a mother to her then her own had ever been.

When it was time to leave, she wrapped her arms around Mabel and held on to her for what seemed an age. ‘You’re a lovely lady, Mabel,’ she told her, and Mabel’s heart went out to her.

‘I’m here whenever you want me,’ she reminded Kathy. ‘Don’t ever forget that, my dear.’

On the bus home, Kathy recalled the old woman’s words. She was more content now than she had been in a long time. After all the niggling doubts, she was really happy with her new life.

‘I’m sorry, my dear, but you know how things are.’ Irene had her own troubles. ‘I’d like to help you, but it’s not possible.’ Pouring herself another drink, she poured one for Samantha, too. ‘He puts only the tiniest amount into my account; just enough for basic necessities. I have to ask him for every little thing, and even then he wants receipts.’ Gulping down her drink, she was close to tears. ‘He’s moved into the spare room … though I don’t mind that, but he treats me like a stranger. It’s just awful!

‘I haven’t finished yet, though.’ She grinned – a wonky, half-drunken gesture that distorted her face. ‘I’ve been thinking. If you were to help me, I could be rid of him.’ Her secretive expression told it all.

Samantha couldn’t believe her ears. ‘You’re drunk!’

‘Oh no I’m not.’ Sidling up to her, Irene lowered her voice to a harsh whisper, at the same time glancing at the door to make sure he wasn’t hiding there like last time. ‘I’ve thought of a way to finish him off.’ She giggled. ‘Then we can both enjoy his money.’

Samantha thought her mother was losing her mind. ‘I might have been persuaded,’ she confessed, ‘but you seem to have forgotten one thing.’

‘What’s that?’

‘He’s cut you out of his will, hasn’t he?’

Irene was taken aback. Unsteady on her feet, she fell into the nearest chair, eyes glazed over after hours of steadily knocking back the booze. ‘The bastard! You’re right, I forgot about that.’ She forgot most things these days.

Samantha stared at her with loathing. ‘Look at you! What good are you? I came here for help and find you drunk!’ She began to shout. ‘You’re always bloody drunk lately.’

Irene laughed. ‘You should try it, dear. It helps to pass the time of day.’

Samantha was in no mood for this. ‘You disgust me!’

‘Don’t be like that, my dear.’ Sitting up in the chair, she focused her gaze on this wayward, beloved daughter of hers. ‘Look, dear. You do what the solicitor said … go to your sister and tell her how things are. You know how soft she is … I’m sure she wouldn’t turn you away.’

She giggled. ‘You might even find yourself a rich old man down at the seaside … that’s where they usually retire to, isn’t it?’ Throwing her arms about, she laughed insanely. ‘Perhaps I should come with you.’

‘Who would want you? You’re becoming an old slag,’ Samantha warned. ‘If you’re not careful, you’ll be the next one out on the street!’

Slamming out of the house, she left her mother in tears. Yet, as she walked down the street to the bus stop, she thought on what her mother had said. Her sulky mouth turned up in a devious little smile. ‘You could be right, Mother,’ she murmured. ‘Maybe it’s time I paid my little sister a visit.’

But that would take money. ‘I need a whole new wardrobe, and money in my pocket,’ she mused. ‘I might have to think of a way to earn some money fast.’ Just then a man walked by and winked, obviously making a play for her.

Though she rebuffed him, it triggered an idea in her mind.

She smiled to herself. ‘Hmh! If the end justifies the means, I’m sure it wouldn’t be too much of a hardship.’