Читать книгу Kitty Neale 3 Book Bundle - Kitty Neale - Страница 13

When Phyllis had come round after fainting, she’d felt disoriented and bleary eyed. What had happened? Her head had been throbbing and she wondered if she’d hit it on something. After struggling to sit up another wave of dizziness had swept over her. She’d remained still until it passed, and then had managed to heave herself onto a chair. It was the first time in her life that Phyllis had fainted, so the feeling of nausea was unexpected. She’d fought the urge to be sick, swallowing bile as she shivered in shock. It had been a surprise to find that only minutes had passed, but why had she fainted? She wasn’t ill. She was just tired, that was all, and at last, giving in, Phyllis had gone upstairs to lie down.

It was now three hours later and Phyllis woke up feeling a lot better. It must have been exhaustion; that, or the fact that she wasn’t eating properly. Yet they had survived on a lot less to eat during the war. Despite that thought, Phyllis knew that she had lost weight, her arms thin and her ribs showing when she undressed. She hid it well, wearing an extra jumper with a thick cardigan most of the time, and so far nobody had noticed. Anyway, she’d never been fat, so that couldn’t be the reason for her lack of energy.

Phyllis changed her rumpled clothes and applied a little lipstick to give her face a bit of colour, but as she hadn’t done her washing, no doubt when Mabel turned up again in about half an hour she’d know that something was up.

For now though, Phyllis was worried about Winnie. She hadn’t been to check on her since early that morning and now she hurried next door, pleased to see that the old lady was all right. Winnie’s living room was as gloomy as her own, Phyllis thought, with ancient wallpaper and dull, dark furniture. She should polish it, Phyllis thought guiltily, make things look a bit more cheerful for Winnie, but with two cleaning jobs and her own housework to do, she just didn’t have the energy. Managing a smile she said, ‘Sorry, love, I’m a bit behind today and you must be dying for a drink.’

‘I’ve been dozing on and off all morning, but yes, I must admit I’m thirsty,’ Winnie admitted.

‘I’ll make you a cuppa,’ Phyllis offered and soon Winnie was sipping it with pleasure.

However her expression suddenly became sombre and she said, ‘Phyllis, I know my Harry passed away, but sometimes I think I can hear him speaking to me. You’ll probably think I’m mad, but somehow I think I’ll be joining him soon.’

‘Oh, don’t say that, Winnie.’

‘Now don’t get upset. I’ve had a good innings and I’m ready to go.’

‘All you’re probably hearing is our voices through the thin walls. On the other hand you may be coming down with something, so I’ll get the doctor in to take a look at you.’

‘There’s no need,’ Winnie protested. ‘I’m fine, as well as I can be, and I don’t know why people are so afraid to talk about death. We’ve all got to go sometime, and I just think that my number’s coming up, that’s all.’

‘You’ve got years in you,’ Phyllis protested, ‘and I’m not going to listen to any more of this. Now I’ll pour you another cup of tea and then I’ll be back later with your dinner. If you need me before that, thump on the wall as usual.’

‘I’ll do that, and thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

Phyllis managed a small smile, yet she was unable to help noticing how frail Winnie looked. She still managed to use the commode unassisted, but going upstairs to bed proved impossible and now Winnie slept in a single one that had been pushed up against their adjoining wall in the living room.

With a heavy heart, Phyllis returned home where moments later Mabel turned up, saying as she came in, ‘I could do with a cuppa so put the kettle on, mate.’

‘It wouldn’t suit me,’ Phyllis said, ‘but as I always seem to be making pots of tea maybe I should open a café.’

‘Very funny, but why didn’t you put your washing out to dry? There’s no sign of rain.’

‘I didn’t do it.’

‘I knew you weren’t up to it, but you insisted you were all right,’ Mabel admonished.

‘Yeah, well, as you saw I was worn out and when you left I sort of passed out for a minute or two.’

‘You did what!’

‘It was nothing,’ Phyllis said quickly. ‘Once I’d had a bit of a kip I was fine, but you could have knocked me down with a feather when I realised I’d slept for over three hours.’

‘You must have needed it, and it looks like it’s done you a lot of good. You look heaps better.’

Phyllis refrained from saying that though she was only forty, she felt twenty years older than that as she filled the kettle.

‘Leave that, I’ll do it,’ Mabel said. ‘You sit yourself down.’

‘You just said I look heaps better.’

‘Yeah, you do, but I ain’t fooled by that lipstick. You’re still a bit pale.’

Phyllis didn’t argue and as she prepared the drinks, Mabel continued to chat. ‘Daphne Cole got her washing done. I looked out of my bedroom window over to her yard and saw her sheets and towels were gleaming white when she hung them out, but of course she’s better off than us with that boiler thing she’s got. I still think she should sort her daughter out though. If she doesn’t, mark my words, Carol will come to no good.’

Phyllis ignored the comment, only saying, ‘At least we don’t have to spend time grating our soap now. I think this new washing powder that’s come out is marvellous.’

‘Yeah, it is, but I must tell you what I heard this morning.’

Phyllis was used to this. Mabel thrived on gossip, but Phyllis knew why and understood. It was something that kept Mabel’s mind occupied; a tool she used to shut out the grief that still tortured her. She and Jack had lost their only child, a little boy, to measles when he was only three years old. They hadn’t had any more children, and though no reason could be found, it was as though something in Mabel had died too.

Phyllis had always wanted another child too, but though trying, Amy had remained the only one. At least she had her daughter, while poor Mabel had been left childless. Few remained on Lark Rise who remembered what Mabel had been through, or if they did, any sympathy they had once felt had long been forgotten.

With a sigh, Phyllis just wished Mabel would find something else to do with her time, something that could be meaningful, but after all these years she’d run out of suggestions. ‘All right, Mabel, as you’re keen to tell me, what have you heard?’

‘That cousin of yours, Rose, has got her eye on someone.’

Phyllis’s lips tightened. Rose was always the subject of local gossip and she said, ‘Don’t tell me it’s a married man again.’

‘To be honest it was only a snippet and no names were mentioned. Of course she’s had her eye on the landlord’s agent for ages, so it might be him. If it is, I don’t know what she sees in the ugly sod. I told him that my roof is leaking ages ago, but he still hasn’t got the landlord to sort it out.’

‘Keep on at him,’ Phyllis advised.

‘Yeah, I will. My back bedroom is in a right state and every time it rains I have to put a bucket under the leak. It’s just as well I don’t use it,’ Mabel said, her expression saddening.

As it had been the one that Mabel’s little boy had slept in, Phyllis understood, but it also gave her an idea. ‘If you can get the agent to have a word with the landlord about fixing the roof, you could let that room. It would give you a few extra bob a week.’

‘It’s an idea,’ Mabel mused, ‘but to be honest, I don’t think my Jack would stand for it. You know how he likes his privacy, and anyway, with him being a railway guard, we ain’t too bad off.’

Phyllis’s suggestion hadn’t been to do with money, though she had passed it off as such. A lodger might have given Mabel something to focus on, someone else to look after instead of spending all her spare time watching all the comings and goings on Lark Rise to feed her insatiable need for gossip.

They continued to chat and when the pot had been emptied, Mabel rose to her feet. ‘I’d best get my washing in. Do you want me to give you a hand with yours in the morning?’

‘Thanks for the offer, but I can manage.’

‘Right then, I’m off. See you tomorrow.’

‘Bye, love,’ Phyllis called as she left. She knew that few of their neighbours could stand Mabel, that they found her harsh and opinionated; but Phyllis would always stand by her friend, no matter what.

Amy and Carol were on their way home, Carol going on and on about her date on Friday. ‘Did I tell you that Roy’s got a car?’

‘Yes, several times. Tommy can drive, but his dad won’t let him use the firm’s van out of working hours.’

Carol gave a little skip. ‘I’ve never been asked out to dinner before and I want to find something special to wear. What about my hair? Do you think I should wear it up, or down?’

‘I like that French pleat, it makes you look older, sophisticated, but it looks nice when you curl it onto your shoulders too.’

Carol didn’t think that was much help, and her mind drifted to what she was going to wear again. It still seemed ages to Friday, but if she went to the Nelson Café for lunch tomorrow, she could see Roy again before that. The idea was appealing at first, but then she decided against it. After all, she didn’t want it to look like she was chasing after him.

As they turned into Lark Rise, Carol saw that Amy was looking at Tommy’s house, and said, ‘Why don’t you go and see if he’s any better?’

‘If I didn’t have to face the dragon, I would. Mrs Frost made it clear on Sunday morning that Tommy wouldn’t be up to seeing anyone for a good few days.’

Carol frowned. ‘Hang on, you told me you were with him last night.’

Amy’s face went bright red and she stuttered, ‘Yes … yes … I was.’

‘If you’re going to be a liar, you should make sure you’re a good one. You’re rubbish at it, Amy.’

‘I … I’m sorry.’

‘If you didn’t want to go out dancing with me, you only had to say no. You didn’t have to invent an excuse.’

‘I … I didn’t want to upset you.’

‘It wouldn’t have. I met up with some of the other girls at the club, though I would like to know the real reason why you didn’t want to come out with me.’

Amy hung her head, saying nothing, and Carol urged, ‘Come on, spit it out.’

‘I was worried about Tommy. If he found out I’d been out having a good time, it might have upset him.’

‘Tough. He doesn’t own you.’

‘I know that. It’s just that I really like him,’ Amy said as they carried on down the hill.

Carol just couldn’t understand what Amy saw in Tommy Frost. For her, Roy was all man, not a thin weakling, but she didn’t voice her thoughts, instead saying, ‘Look, Mabel Povis is on her doorstep again. I don’t know why she doesn’t put her bed on it. She’s more outside her house than in it.’

‘Mrs Povis is a bit nosey, but she’s all right really. My mum thinks a lot of her.’

‘Mine doesn’t,’ Carol said as she watched Mabel trotting up to them.

‘Amy, I’m glad I caught you,’ the woman said. ‘Your mum’s so worn out that she passed out this morning.’

‘What?’ Amy cried. ‘She fainted?’

‘Yes, but thankfully she’s all right now. You, my girl, should do more to help her around the house.’

‘Yes, yes, I will,’ Amy said, pale as she hurried indoors.

Unlike Amy, Carol wasn’t scared of confrontation and she glared at Mabel. ‘You had no right to have a go at Amy. She works full time, and on top of that she already does a lot to help her mother.’

‘She can do more,’ Mabel snapped and turning, she marched back into her own house.

Carol was left fuming, and her parents heard all about it as soon as she walked into the living room.

Frank Cole was listening to his daughter as she ranted and raved about Mabel Povis. He wasn’t in the mood for this. After a hard day at work maintaining the noisy machines in the printing factory, all he wanted was a bit of peace and quiet. Daphne, his wife, was of course listening avidly while Frank wondered what it was with women and gossip.

‘She was obviously waiting for Amy and had the cheek to tell her to do more to help her mother,’ Carol said angrily.

‘Well, Phyllis does have it hard,’ Daphne mused, ‘and I’m a bit worried to hear that she fainted.’

‘You should have seen Amy’s face. She went as white as a sheet,’ Carol continued.

‘I’ll pop along to see Phyllis in the morning,’ said Daphne, ‘though I doubt I’ll get in the door before Mabel turns up. It’s like the woman has some sort of radar system.’

Frank sighed and tried to divert his wife. ‘Daphne, what are we having for dinner?’

‘What we always have on a Monday,’ she replied. ‘Meat left over from the Sunday roast with bubble and squeak.’

Frank licked his lips in anticipation of a nice tasty dinner. To his relief, Daphne headed for the kitchen with Carol close behind her. He could still hear them talking about Mabel, but at least he’d get his dinner soon.

His sons hadn’t turned up, but looking at the clock Frank knew that there was still time yet. It annoyed him that Dave and Paul often came round at meal times expecting to be fed, and not only that, Daphne still did their washing. His boys had done all right for themselves in the building game, with Paul a carpenter, and Dave a plasterer. They earned good money, rented a two-bedroom flat above a shop on Lavender Hill, and as far as Frank was concerned, it was about time they looked after themselves.

Frank would never admit it, but though he loved his sons, his daughter was the most precious to him. He also knew that Daphne favoured the boys, who both looked more like him, whereas Carol was so like her mother, both beauties and both his.

He’d never worried about the boys when they went out at night, but it wasn’t the same with Carol. He insisted she was home by ten thirty and though she railed against it, she was rarely late. She’d had a fair few boyfriends, but if any of them had dared to take liberties with her, he’d have wrung their bloody necks. Carol wasn’t seeing anyone at the moment, and that suited him just fine.

‘Dinner’s ready,’ Carol said, laying two plates on the table.

Daphne followed behind with her own plate, and at last it seemed the subject of Mabel had been exhausted. He sat down, relieved that the boys hadn’t turned up, his plate piled high.

‘I’m popping round to see my mother after dinner,’ Daphne said.

Frank couldn’t stand his mother-in-law and knew the feeling was mutual. She lived a few streets away, hated living alone since her old man kicked the bucket, and Daphne often went round to keep her company. He didn’t mind, and more often than not he went to the pub where he enjoyed a game of darts. ‘I’m going out too. I’ve got a match on tonight.’

Frank tucked in, mostly a contented man; little knowing that there would come a time when his satisfaction with life was going to turn to ashes.