Читать книгу Songbird - Josephine Cox - Страница 10

CHAPTER TWO

UNAWARE THAT THEIR next-door neighbour had been so affected by their arrival, the students settled down to enjoy their supper, bought from the chippie on the corner. Dave Wright, who was studying Physics, called their attention to the new member of staff at the college. ‘Hey, that new Maths lecturer is a bit of all right! Do you agree, lads?’ With an appreciative eye for the women, Dave was a real Jack the Lad. ‘Wouldn’t mind a bit of private tuition from her.’ He gave a long, exaggerated sigh.

‘Behave yourself!’ Betsy was the elfin-like creature with a soft heart and big smile. Thrusting his bag of saveloy, chips and two pickled onions into his hands, she asked, ‘What on earth would Poppy say if she heard you talking like that?’ Poppy was a Geography student at the college; she was also Dave’s current girlfriend.

Taking a large bite out of his saveloy, Dave threw himself into the nearest armchair and mumbled, ‘What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.’

‘Honestly, Dave, I don’t know why you say those things, because you know you would never cheat on her.’

Dave nodded and grinned. ‘You’re right. By the way, have you got any tomato ketchup?’

‘You’re a prat, sticking to one woman. Play the field, that’s what I say.’ Hard-headed and self-opinionated, Darren Brown was a frequent visitor to the house. With his selfish manner and constant bickering, however, he was not always wholeheartedly welcomed.

‘Treat ’em mean and keep ’em keen,’ he went on, stabbing at the batter on his cod. ‘There’s hundreds of ’em out there, all gagging for it.’ Good-looking and proud of it, Darren was never short of female company.

Used as she was to his callous remarks, Betsy now took stock of him. ‘And what about Ruth?’ she asked. ‘I thought you said you two might get married after college? That’s what she thinks, anyway.’

Darren waved a chip in the air in a dismissive gesture. ‘They were just words … they meant nothing. Ruth is a passing fancy, that’s all.’

‘You don’t deserve to have a decent girlfriend,’ she told him bluntly. ‘If Ruth knew what you were really like, she’d run a mile.’

All the same, Betsy could see how the girls might be drawn to Darren. Tall, with well-honed muscles and wild dark hair, he had an easy way with him, and when he turned those broody brown eyes on the girls, they simply fell at his feet. ‘One of these days you’ll come unstuck,’ she warned him. ‘I can see it coming a mile off.’

He shrugged. ‘Sounds to me like you’re jealous.’

At this, she burst out laughing. ‘Huh! You should be so lucky.’

‘Never mind the new Maths lecturer – you can give me tuition any time you like, Daz.’ That was Abigail the dreamer, whose room they were in. Scatter-brained and vulnerable, she could see no harm in him.

‘Sorry, sweetheart, you’re not my type.’ Sharp and to the point, he did not mince his words.

‘So, who is your type?’ That was Judith; hard-nosed and ambitious, she had met Abigail in college and invited herself to the house on many occasions. Also, she had long fancied a relationship with Darren; though as yet he had not made a move.

‘Well now, let me see.’ Thrusting a chip into his mouth, the arrogant young man chewed and talked at the same time. ‘Long shapely legs, big firm boobs and a small enough mind not to ask any questions. Oh, and she mustn’t worry about being dumped the day after the night before, if you know what I mean?’

‘Big boobs and a small mind, eh?’ Judith gave a groan. ‘That lets me out then.’

Darren surveyed her slim, boyish figure. ‘Oh, I’m sure I could fit you in if you really wanted.’

‘Are your fish cakes and chips all right, Rob?’ Betsy turned her attention to the only one of them who had not joined in the banter. ‘If they’re cold, I can put them in the microwave to warm them up.’

‘Thanks all the same, Betsy, but they’re fine. Besides, I was that hungry I’d have eaten a scabby dog!’ Not exceptionally good-looking like Daz, or the life and soul of any party like his best friend Dave, Robin was both studious and likeable. In his early twenties, he was a young man going places; studying medicine and working in a big London hospital. This evening, he had driven over in his elderly car to see Dave, whom he had known since their schooldays. From boyhood, nothing had swerved him from his goal to become a doctor, though his father was bitterly disappointed that his only son was not going to follow him into the established family business.

‘Right then.’ Scrambling out of his chair, Darren strode across the room to sort through the records. ‘Jude, how about opening another bottle of wine and I’ll put some good tunes on. There’s a Smiths’ LP in here somewhere, isn’t there?’

Judith objected. ‘Oh God, Morrissey is so depressing. Let’s listen to the Police instead. Oh, and that reminds me. Susie borrowed my Alanis Morissette tape. I’ll have to get it back before she lends it on, like she did with my Madonna one.’

‘Hey! Don’t start taking over,’ Robin joked. ‘Unless you fancy paying Abigail’s rent between the two of you?’

‘I wouldn’t mind paying rent if I could live here,’ Judith retaliated. ‘It’s got to be better than living in hall.’

‘I second that!’ Daz declared, lighting a roll-up. ‘I can’t see why you lot won’t let us share with you. When all’s said and done, there are four bedsits in this house. I could double up with you, Dave, and Judith could double up with one of you girls.’

‘Not a snowdrop’s chance in hell, mate.’ In a light-hearted way, Dave made his feelings known. ‘I’m not doubling up with anybody. I left four brothers behind at home, and I’ve got my own room at long last. And I am not giving it up for love nor money.’

Betsy and Abigail were of the same mind. ‘At the moment, we can chuck you out when we’ve had enough of you,’ they joked.

‘Yeah,’ Dave said, laughingly addressing himself to Darren. ‘Gawd help us if we had to get up each morning and see your ugly mug.’

In no time at all, the Police were belting out their best, followed by some vintage Stones, and for a while, the friends drank the wine and chatted and smoked – until Darren decided to leap onto a chair and give a performance of his own, playing air guitar and screeching at the top of his voice along to ‘Black Sugar’.

‘Put a sock in it,’ Dave begged him. ‘You’ll have all the cats round.’

Abigail threw a cushion at him and Robin threatened to douse him with cold water. But nothing stopped him, until Betsy pulled the plug from the wall.

‘Party poopers!’ Climbing down from the chair, Daz went storming off into the kitchen in search of more booze.

‘Does anybody mind if I choose the next record?’ That was Betsy.

‘I mind!’ Daz returned to his seat empty-handed. ‘I’m not in the mood for listening to one of your soppy love-songs.’

‘Too bad,’ she told him, ‘because whether you like it or not, we’re all having a turn at choosing.’

She picked out a Nat King Cole ballad, ‘When I Fall In love’, and it came as no surprise when Darren immediately protested, ‘Bloody hell! Do we have to listen to that rubbish?’

‘Shut up, misery.’ Judith was rapidly going off him. She gave him a shove. ‘If that’s what Betsy wants, that’s fine by the rest of us, and if you don’t like it, you can go home, you awkward sod.’

Folding his arms, Darren slouched deeper into his chair and pointedly started doing the crossword in the local free paper.

As the smooth silky tones of Nat King Cole flowed through the room, the girls sang along.

Unaware that Robin was watching her with fond eyes, Betsy let the song wash over her. She loved Nat King Cole’s sensuous voice, and the words were so beautiful. Abigail had bought her the Greatest Hits CD last Christmas, and it was one of Betsy’s prized possessions.

It was when Judith stopped singing to cadge a cigarette from Darren, that Betsy thought she heard something. ‘Ssh!’ Sitting bolt upright in her chair, she called for silence, and when everyone was attentive she said, ‘Listen – can you hear that?’

Against all his instincts, Darren found himself listening too, ‘Hey! There is somebody else singing …’ He looked suspiciously from one to another. ‘Come on … what are you lot playing at?’

The rich contralto voice of a woman sailed through the wall, as she sang the song again, to herself. Even muffled, like this, the voice was hauntingly beautiful.

‘Who on earth is that?’ Robin asked into the hush.

Dave voiced all their thoughts. ‘It seems to be coming from next door,’ he said.

Judith laughed, breaking the spell. ‘What! You can’t mean that strange old woman up at her window.’

‘Never!’ Darren was adamant. ‘I should think the best she could manage would be a croak. She gives me the heebie-jeebies, she does, spying on us from behind her net curtains, and creeping about in the dark.’ He gave an exaggerated shiver. ‘There’s something dead weird about her. The Shadow-Thing …’ With an evil grin, he made moving gestures with the tips of his fingers.

Even Abigail had to agree. ‘She is a bit frightening. I’ve never seen her out in daylight, yet as soon as it’s dark she goes scurrying down the street, hiding in the corners like a little hobbit.’

Darren gave a snort of disgust. ‘If you ask me, she’s not all there. I reckon somebody should put her out of her misery.’

‘You’re a callous bastard,’ Robin reprimanded him. ‘The poor woman’s obviously ill.’

‘There you go then,’ Daz insisted. ‘Like I said … Loopy Lou! They should put her in a home, for all our sakes.’

‘Ssh!’ Betsy was still listening; the woman’s voice was pure and powerful. ‘It’s her, I’m sure of it. It can’t be anybody else.’

Judith was cynical. ‘How could such a beautiful voice belong to such a strange-looking creature?’

Suddenly the singing came to an end and the silence was thick.

‘I was in the paper-shop the other day,’ Dave told them all, ‘and she came in after me for some batteries and a box of matches. When she spoke to Mr Hassan, the shopkeeper, her voice was so low it was almost inaudible.’ He shrugged, bemused. ‘She seemed very nervous and a bit dithery. When she came rushing by me, she dropped her box of matches. Of course I stooped to pick it up.’

He could see her now. ‘She seemed such a sorry little thing, all depressed-looking and dishevelled. But in that split second when she grabbed the matches from me, she looked up.’ His voice sank to a whisper, as though talking to himself. ‘She had the most amazing eyes … chestnut-brown they were, and yet against the paleness of her skin they seemed dark as night. It was strange. Even after she’d gone I couldn’t get her out of my mind.’

He added thoughtfully, ‘I swear, I’ve never seen anyone look so frightened.’

‘Ooh, Dave!’ Grinning spitefully, Darren sat bolt upright. ‘You’re done for now! She probably thought you were onto her. You’d best be careful, mate. Sounds to me like she’s bewitched you already.’

‘Oh, do shut up!’ Like everyone else, Abigail had long been curious about the old woman, but she had no time for Darren’s silliness. ‘I can’t help feeling sorry for her. I mean, what went wrong in her life, do you think?’ She looked around at her friends. ‘What could have happened to make her like she is, so terrified of people, and so paranoid about going out in daylight?’

For a while, they discussed their neighbour, until Robin suddenly remembered he had promised to call his father. ‘I’d best get down to the phone in the hall and give my dad a quick ring.’

‘Make him wait, why don’t you?’ Having fallen out with his own family long ago, Darren bitterly resented those who stayed together. ‘He’s always giving you grief over wanting to be a doctor, instead of going into his poxy veterinary business. He made his choice and it’s time he let you make yours. For Chrissake, Rob! When will you stop running after him, like some frightened little kid!’

In the ensuing silence, all eyes were on Robin. A quiet guy, he was not easily roused into temper. But Darren’s words were harsh, and the tension almost palpable.

Getting up, his face set like stone, Rob crossed to where Darren lay slouched in an armchair. ‘You’d best explain what you meant by that,’ he said, his voice low and trembling.

Shocked to see the dark anger in Rob’s face, and like the coward he was, Darren swiftly withdrew his comment. ‘I didn’t mean anything,’ he replied curtly. ‘All I’m saying is, families aren’t what they’re cracked up to be. Look at me!’ He held out his arms triumphantly. ‘I had the good sense to dump my family long ago, and now I’m much better off without them.’

‘Really?’ Robin regarded him with contempt. ‘Well, thankfully, you and I are very different. I would never turn my back on family. You see, the only family I have now is my father, and whatever the differences between us, I have no intention of ever dumping him. In fact, I love and respect him. Never a day goes by when I don’t thank my lucky stars that he’s around.’

His cold gaze was unswerving, ‘So tell me, Darren, do you have a problem with that?’

The other boy shook his head. ‘None whatsoever.’

‘So, will we ever have this conversation again?’

‘Not as far as I’m concerned, no.’ Shaken by this unexpected confrontation, Darren the bully wanted the incident ended. ‘You and your dad are none of my concern.’

‘Glad to hear it. So now – if it’s all right with you – I’ll be about my business.’

Robin was almost out of the door when Betsy grabbed her denim jacket and went after him. ‘I’ll come with you,’ she said. ‘I could do with a change of scene myself.’ Like the others, she had been appalled by Darren’s spiteful remarks.

As always, Robin saw Betsy as a true friend. ‘I’d like that, yes. Let’s go down to the callbox on the corner. Get a breath of air.’

When the front door was shut behind them Betsy glanced back to see their neighbour’s curtains twitch. ‘She’s watching us again,’ the girl whispered with a smile.

Deep in thought, they walked on.

‘Rob?’

‘Mmm?’

‘How do you really think she came to end up here, all alone and scared to go out?’

‘It could have been any number of things,’ he mused. ‘The loss of someone she loved, a disastrous business venture that left her short of money and friends, or it could have been a family fall-out. Who can tell? Life has a way of kicking you in the teeth when you least expect it.’

Betsy’s curiosity was heightened. ‘You sound very bitter.’

‘That’s because I am. But then I believe that whatever happens in life, and however devastated we are, we just have to make the best of what we’ve got and get on with it.’

Betsy sensed his sadness. ‘You never mention your mother,’ she ventured nervously.

Robin did not answer. Instead, he cast his gaze to the ground and quickened his step.

‘I’m here if you want to talk about it,’ Betsy went on.

He shook his head. ‘Some things are best left unsaid.’

Affectionately squeezing his arm, Betsy apologised. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.’

‘I know that,’ he replied. ‘Thanks for caring anyway.’

They continued walking down the street until they reached a low wall by an area of wasteland.

‘Let’s sit down for a moment,’ Robin said. A few moments later, much to Betsy’s surprise, he began to confide in her.

‘I was just a kid of six, when my mother was involved in a car accident.’ He paused and took a breath. Even now it was hard to talk about it. ‘It took them three hours to cut her out of the wreckage.’

He could recall every moment, of every tortuous day and night. ‘She was in a coma for weeks. In all that time, Dad and I never gave up hope, even though deep down, I think we knew she would never recover. One summer’s morning, she just slipped away …’ He cleared his throat. ‘They said she didn’t suffer, that she wouldn’t have known anything.’

He took a moment to collect his thoughts. ‘Afterwards, my dad changed beyond all recognition. He used to be always smiling and joking, the life and soul of the party. He adored my mother, and when she was gone, it was as if a big part of him went with her. He couldn’t seem to function any more … couldn’t work, didn’t sleep. For days he just wandered round the house in a trance.’

He grimaced. ‘Dad was well qualified. From an early age, he always loved animals; his one burning ambition was to have his own veterinary clinic. When he left college he became a junior assistant at the local vet’s … worked his way up, and now he has four reputable clinics across Bedfordshire.’

Betsy was impressed. ‘That’s quite an achievement,’ she said. ‘And were you never interested in joining him?’

Robin shook his head. ‘Before I started school, I’d go with him on his calls sometimes.’ He gave a chuckle. ‘It was all a bit scary and bloody.’

‘But it didn’t put you off wanting to be a doctor?’

‘No, just the opposite. It made me want to help ease pain and suffering … but in people, not animals. So, in one way, I suppose my ambitions were much the same as my dad’s. Although he can’t seem to grasp it that way.’

Looking down on Betsy, he went on in quieter tones, ‘At first – after the accident, I mean – the way it was, I began to think I’d lost both my parents.’

The girl was tempted to comment, to reassure him, but then she realised he needed to open the door which he had kept locked for too long, so she remained silent and let him speak.

‘I was just six years old. He was my dad but he didn’t even seem to know I was there.’ The boy’s memory of it was still vivid.

‘We never sat down to a meal any more. It was either curry or Chinese from the local take-aways, or beans on toast and Lyons individual fruit pies. He left me to my own devices for days on end. You see, he forgot that I, too, was desperately missing my mother.’

He still recalled the sense of helplessness and loss. The awful loneliness.

‘After a while, Dad went back to work. It was as if he went from one extreme to another. This time, he drove himself like a mad thing – with extra clinics, longer hours, home visits … anything so’s not to be in the house. I was only a kid, but I learned to fend for myself. I would get up, wash, dress and go off to school in the village, never knowing if he’d be there when I got back. Not knowing if he would ever come home!’

Robin gave a wry little smile. ‘I never told anyone how things were at home, so nobody bothered. I went to school and all I could think of was my dad, and … everything. One afternoon, my teacher came round and told Dad how I was falling badly behind in class; it made him realise how much he’d neglected me. After that, things were better. He talked to me, about my mother, and how much he missed her. He would hug me and cry, and tell me how sorry he was that he hadn’t been looking after me. But he never once asked me how I felt. Inside, I was crying too, but he couldn’t see that. He couldn’t see past his own grief.’

Betsy gently urged him on. ‘What was she like, your mother?’

He smiled, a soft, loving smile. ‘Best mother ever. She was caring and understanding. And small, much like you. She always knew what to say and when to say it. Oh, and she could be so funny. She made us all laugh with her silly jokes and made-up stories.’ His voice caught with emotion. ‘She was more than my mother. She was a special friend. I never felt lonely when she was around.’

When the emotion threatened to overwhelm him, he took a moment to compose himself before going on. ‘After my teacher came round to see him, Dad worried they might send social services to check up on us. So, eventually he found a married couple to come and stay. Joan and Tom were lovely – they were a great help to Dad on the farm, and Joan used to make me all my favourite puddings. I was so upset when they went to live at the seaside. Dad was, too.’

An enormous grin suddenly spread over his face. ‘After that, we had Sheelagh. I’ll never forget her, Betsy. She made our house really happy again … But I’ll tell you all about her some other time. Still miss her, all these years later, you know. She was like a second mother, for the short time she was with us. As for Dad, looking back, I think he fell in love with her, only to be left alone again.’

Restless, Robin got up. ‘For a while when Sheelagh left us, he seemed hellbent on destroying himself again. He turned his back on his business … leaving things to his accountant. It was another really bad period for us – one minute up, the next down. The turning-point came when two of Dad’s best vets left the practice and he had to close down one of his clinics. Then he discovered that his accountant had been stealing huge amounts of money from him. He finally came to his senses, got himself together and picked up the reins. He built on what he had, and now he has those four clinics within a twenty-mile radius. Somehow I got through school without making too much of a mess at it, thanks to Dave, whose mum was a friend of our family.’

Like the others, apart from Dave, Betsy had known nothing of Robin’s background. Now she asked: ‘Do you think you’ll ever meet up with Sheelagh again one day?’

Robin shook his head. ‘Dad did try to find her, but nothing came of it. He stopped looking … said she deserved to have her own life back, if that was why she had gone missing.

‘And has your Dad come to terms with losing your mother and … everything?’

‘He still lives on his own and works far too hard. I’m his only child, and that’s why he was so disappointed when I wouldn’t join him in the family business.’

‘He sounds like a determined bloke.’

‘He is. But so am I, and he won’t change my mind.’ Robin grinned down at her.

‘Do you look like your dad?’ she asked.

‘Hmm … not much. I’ve been told I take after my grandad on my mother’s side.’

‘So, what did he look like?’

Smiling broadly, Rob gave Betsy a little playful shove. ‘Oh, you know – handsome, well-built, and with this animal magnetism that women couldn’t resist …’ They were still chuckling 0a, arm-in-arm, they arrived at the phone box.

Robin asked if she wanted to come inside with him, out of the cold.

Betsy graciously refused. ‘I don’t want to eavesdrop on your conversation,’ she said, stepping back. ‘I’ll wait out here.’

As it was, she couldn’t help but pick up some of the conversation, because the evening was unusually clear, and Robin’s voice could be easily heard.

‘Yes, Dad, everything’s fine. Yes, I would tell you if it wasn’t. No, I don’t need any money – I already told you, I’m getting my accommodation and meals free at the hospital.’

There followed a short pause during which Robin turned and rolled his eyes at Betsy through the glass. ‘No, I haven’t reconsidered,’ she heard him say patiently ‘… and I wish you’d stop asking me, because it only causes friction.’

Another pause. ‘I’m in the booth at the bottom of North Park Street. No, I’m not on my own. My friend Betsy’s waiting outside.’ Another slight pause before he chuckled and said, ‘I don’t think she’d appreciate you saying that.’

The conversation was ended with Robin assuring his father, ‘You know I will. I’ve said before many times, I don’t mind helping out with the animals when I’m home. I just don’t want to do it for a living.’ He nodded. ‘Okay, Dad. Take care of yourself. Talk again soon.’

When he emerged from the booth, Betsy asked him, ‘What did you mean when you said I wouldn’t appreciate that?’

The boy grinned. ‘Oh, nothing.’

‘Tell me!’

‘Well, for some reason, he thinks you’re my girlfriend.’

‘I see. And that worries you, does it?’

Concerned that she might have been offended, Robin changed the subject. ‘He should not assume things. He has a way of doing that – like thinking I would naturally follow him into veterinary medicine, without ever actually talking to me about it.’

‘I suppose he just wants what’s best for you.’ Disappointed that he had chosen to shift the conversation on to a less personal level, Betsy nevertheless played along. But all the time she wanted to shout out, ‘I’d love to be your girlfriend! The first day I met you, I knew I wanted to be part of your life!’

But she made no mention of her feelings, and neither did Robin. Instead, they walked on together, chatting of other things. There was to be a student fashion show soon, and one of the models would be wearing a dress designed by Betsy herself.

‘I can see you being one of the best designers in the country,’ Robin told her proudly.

‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’ Betsy was not one to brag. But in truth, she had already set her heart on establishing her own label one day.

They were almost home, when Betsy whispered, ‘She’s there again … look.’

Against the soft background lighting of the next-door front bedroom was the silhouette of a woman.

‘Sometimes I want to knock on her door and make friends with her,’ Betsy told Robin. ‘She must be so lonely.’

The boy looked down on this lovely young woman beside him, and his heart was warmed. ‘You know your trouble?’ he said tenderly.

She looked up. ‘No. But I’m sure you’ll tell me.’

He took a moment to regard her, that small uplifted face and those appealing dark eyes, and he felt the urge to kiss her right there and then. Not wishing to frighten her away, he answered, ‘You’re far too nice for your own good.’

He desperately wanted to tell her how he felt, but some instinct held him back. Besides, if she’d wanted to be his woman, she had had her chance to say something back there when he told her what his dad had said, about her being his girlfriend. Anyway, a girl like Betsy, talented and pretty with an exciting future before her – why would she be interested in a humble young doctor like him? Though there was a fleeting moment when he was tempted to convey his true feelings. Twice he opened his mouth to speak, and twice he could not bring himself to say anything.

So, the moment passed, and with it his opportunity to tell her how he felt.

As they went up the steps and into the house, Betsy never knew how close he had come to sharing this last secret with her. From the relative safety of her hiding place, the woman watched them disappear into the house. ‘So young,’ she sighed. ‘Such a lovely couple.’ She drew away. ‘My life is over now, but they’ve got all their lives in front of them. Don’t be like me … so much heartache,’ she muttered brokenly. ‘Don’t waste your chances of happiness.’

Turning from the window, she drew the curtains together and ambled across the room to the sideboard. In the light from the small lamp, she opened the drawer and took out a bundle of papers tied with string.

Taking them with her to the chair, she sat down and for a moment made no move to open the bundle. Instead she laid herself back in the chair, and allowed the anger to envelop her. ‘I stood up to him once,’ she murmured proudly, ‘Oh, but he was such an evil man … an evil, evil man!’

Taking a moment to compose herself, she then untied the string and laid it carefully across her lap, then the same with the bulk of the parcel. Rummaging through the photographs, she found the one she was looking for. It was a photograph of herself many years ago. She gazed down on it with fondness. ‘That was me!’ she whispered incredulously. ‘I may be haggard and worn now, but there was a time when I could hold my head high.’

Clothed in a clinging dress that drew in at the waist and fell naturally over her young figure, and with her long dark hair caught in a black bandana about her head, she looked amazing. ‘I remember that dress as it was yesterday,’ she chuckled joyfully. ‘Purest ivory it was, with a sweetheart neckline, and a teasing split at the hem …’ She laughed out loud. ‘Cost me a week’s wages it did!’

Her mood sobered. ‘That was the night it all started to go wrong,’ she whispered, laying the photograph on her lap.

Having taken a few minutes to reminisce, she glanced again at the photograph and a whimsical expression crept over her features. ‘Was that really me,’ she asked wonderingly, ‘with a figure like that … up there on the stage with everyone looking at me, listening to me sing …’ She tried to recall the feelings, but like so much of her past, they were pushed to the depths of her mind.

She looked again at herself as a young woman with the world at her feet, and a sense of desolation took hold of her. ‘Come on now!’ she reprimanded herself. ‘It won’t hurt to remember the way it was … the laughter, the songs. You did nothing wrong, you have to remember that.’

Shyly glancing down to study the photograph once more, she gave a hearty laugh. ‘What a dress! And look at the black patent-leather high heels, oh, and the silk-stockings. It’s all coming back … and how it riled him, when the men couldn’t take their eyes off me.’ She groaned. ‘Hmh! If they could see me now, they wouldn’t even help me across the road, and who could blame them, eh?’

Standing the photograph on the mantelpiece, she began gently swirling and dancing around, losing herself in the joy of yesteryear. In her head she could hear the soft music of her favourite song, ‘I Believe’. Twirling and swaying, she began to sing …

One of her all time favourite songs was ‘I Believe’. As she sang it how her heart was filled with joy as the poignant words took her back over the years …

All alone now, with no audience and no wickedness waiting for her, she danced in the twilight, lost herself in the song, and for a while she felt incredibly free. It was easy to imagine herself back there, in the night club, with the people looking up, their hearts and minds tuned into the song and the music.

But always in the wings or leaning on the bar … he was there watching … waiting.

She could see him now, dark and menacing in her mind’s eye. It was a bad feeling.