Kathleen shook her head.
‘So, is there anything that Judy discussed with you, and that you haven’t spoken of – anything you think I should know?’
‘Oh, bejaysus, will you stop firing questions at me!’ Kathleen sensed that she might treading on dangerous ground. ‘If
Judy said something I believe you should know, I would tell you, wouldn’t I?’
Harry took a long look at her. ‘I hope so,’ he said, his voice serious. ‘I sincerely hope you would not take it on yourself to keep things from me; things that affect Judy; things that might give me a clearer picture as to her wellbeing.’
Thankfully, before Kathleen was made to give an answer, Tom came running up.
‘They’ve all gone!’ He looked pale, his mouth ringed in crumbs and his cheeks puffed out as though he had a whole batch of ginger biscuits in there.
‘Good Lord above!’ Kathleen was horrified. ‘You’ve never eaten the entire lot of them, have you?’
Tom grinned and nodded, then he threw up all over the floor; causing panic. ‘Harry, quick! The mop and bucket are out the back!’
Grabbing Tom in her
arms, Kathleen rushed him to the sink where she turned him upside down and patted his back, until in a mangled heap, the rest of the biscuits shot out of his mouth.
There followed a flurry of activity and another bout of sickness, before Tom was bathed, put into his pyjamas and secured in the
armchair with a blanket tucked round him. ‘I can’t believe he ate all the ginger biscuits.’ Harry finished
cleaning the floor and sat with his son, while Kathleen dialled the local doctor.
‘Well, it was either Tom, or The Invisible Man!’ Kathleen declared. ‘And I can’t see anybody else being sick around here, can you?’
She listened, then she answered, then she listened again. ‘Yes, I’ve done all that; and now he’s washed and wrapped up warm as we speak.’
After a moment she replaced the receiver,
advising Harry, ‘We’re to watch for him sweating too much, or getting too hot. Keep him wrapped up and a bucket under his head, and let him have as much water as he can drink.’
‘You are never to do that again,’ Harry chided. ‘Do you understand?’
Tom nodded. ‘All right, Daddy.’
Kathleen tutted and tutted. ‘And there was me, thinking I might have a fresh-baked ginger biscuit with my hot cocoa
tonight.’
‘I’m sorry, Kathleen,’ Tom moaned. ‘I’m really sorry.’
‘So am I,’ she said, giving him a big hug. ‘But it doesn’t really matter. All that matters is that you’re feeling better. Okay?’
Tom gave her a bright, winning smile. ‘Okay!’
Later, when Harry came down from taking Tom up to bed, he fell exhausted into the armchair. ‘Now then, where were we?’
‘We were talking about Judy,’ Kathleen
answered. ‘But as far as I’m concerned, the conversation has run its course, simply because there is nothing more I can tell you.’
‘Are you absolutely certain about that?’ Harry was not altogether convinced.
‘Sure, haven’t I already said so?’
Harry leaned back in the chair to consider Kathleen’s comments. Pondering for a time, he went back on their conversation repeatedly, before sitting up
again to announce, ‘I can’t leave it there. I won’t rest until I find her and talk with her. Like I said, the two of us still have unfinished business.’
In the light of Harry’s rigid determination to track Judy down, Kathleen made no comment, but there was a certain little instinct that constantly nagged at her and would not go away. It had to do with Judy’s obvious anxiety. This was certainly
connected with Phil Saunders, and possibly something else –
or someone else
– though Kathleen could not be sure.
In truth, she had no way of knowing the whole story.
One thing was certain though.
The more she recalled her meeting with Judy, the more that little instinct tugged at her conscience.
Someone, at some time, had messed with Judy’s peace of mind. Someone cruel and cowardly from
way back – even before Phil Saunders.
Certainly someone other than Harry!
R
ITA
R
OBERTS WAS
out in the garden pruning the roses late one Friday morning when Mac arrived home early. That makes a nice change, she thought. As always, she was pleased to see him. Snipping off a withered rose, she dropped it into the wheelbarrow. Most days he was late home, or else he had to go off somewhere for days on end.
Parking his new Mercedes at the top of the drive,
Mac swung himself out of the car and came across to his wife.
‘What’s this?’ she asked. ‘You’re early. I didn’t expect you home till this evening.’
Giving her a peck on the cheek, he looked at the piles of rose-cuttings both in the barrow and on the ground. ‘What are you doing out here?’
‘What does it look like?’ She gestured at the well-manicured roses, all cut back and ready for a new season.
‘I’m taking out all the dead stuff.’
‘I can see that for myself.’ A flash of irritation. ‘What I meant was, isn’t doing that supposed to be part of the gardener’s duties?’
‘There’s a problem.’ Collecting the basket and sliding it over her arm, Rita smiled up at the skies. ‘Besides, it’s such a lovely day, I thought it would be nice to spend some time in the garden.’
When Mac began strolling
away towards the house, she went with him. ‘So what is this problem?’ he asked. ‘And why should it mean that you have to go out and do
his
job?’
‘Well, you know that Andy’s wife is seven months pregnant, don’t you?’
‘Oh, right! So now he can’t come and do what he’s paid for, because his wife is seven months pregnant, is that the excuse he gave you?’
Rita hated it when he was in this kind of
mood. ‘Don’t be like
that, Mac,’ she said. ‘If you’ve had a hard week, it isn’t my fault. You should delegate more. Taking everything on your own shoulders makes you difficult to live with at times.’
He had no answer to that, except to mumble a reluctant, ‘Sorry, love. I’m just a bit fraught, that’s all.’
He was angry with himself; angry at the driven world he lived and worked in; and he was
more than angry at having shown that side of his character to his wife, who always went out of her way to make life easier for him. ‘It has been an unusually heavy week, and I really am bushed.’
‘Well, please don’t take it out on me, Mac. It’s upsetting.’
‘All right! All right! I’ve said I’m sorry. So now can we start again, d’you think?’
Content with her place in his busy life, Rita loved
him so much she would forgive him anything, and he knew it. ‘You can relax now you’re home,’ she promised. ‘If you give me a minute, I’ll wash my hands and make you a sandwich and a coffee – strong and black just as you like it. Sorry, but I didn’t know you’d be home early. Lunch won’t be ready for another hour or so yet.’
‘That’s fine. My fault.’ He went back to the matter in hand. ‘So, what’s
all this about the gardener and his wife?’
Impatient, he began to stride on ahead, with Rita quickening her step to keep up.
‘Like I said, his wife is seven months pregnant, and she was rushed to the hospital in the early hours … something isn’t right, apparently. He rang about ten minutes since, to let me know.’
‘Something gone wrong, eh?’ Mac sympathised. ‘I’m sorry about that, but no doubt
everything will turn out all right, eh?’
‘I hope so, yes.’ One of her greatest regrets in life was not having children, and Mac so loved them. ‘Anyway, with autumn just around the corner, I thought I’d take the opportunity to get outside. The thing is, I haven’t done any gardening since you took Andy on, and I do miss it so.’
‘If you want me to finish him, you’ve only got to say the word.’
‘Good grief, no! That would be an awful thing to do. You know he only recently lost his driving job, and they had a really hard time for a while. In fact, that could be what’s caused the trouble with the baby … maybe the upset was too much. Oh no, Mac! You can’t even
think
of finishing him.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Rita, will you stop rabbiting on! It was just a suggestion, that’s all, and besides,
I’ve had enough nagging today to last me a lifetime!’
‘Oh Mac, I’m sorry – really I am.’ It made her feel bad when he was in a mood.
Shrugging his shoulders, he heaved a great sigh. ‘No, it’s me that should be sorry. I’m tired, that’s all. It’s been an exceptionally heavy week, what with taking on that new project on the seafront, and travelling miles to check up on other, ongoing projects. Today
was tedious, catching up on paperwork, answering phone calls and contacting planning officials and such. When the phone wasn’t ringing in my ear, the secretary was in and out of the office. “Do this … do that … Mr So-and-so called – it’s urgent, he wants you to contact him” …’
Rita gave a little groan. ‘Goodness, it makes me feel tired just
listening
to you.’
‘So now you can understand why my
head is all in a spin.’
Turning to look at her, he caught hold of her hand. ‘Like you said, what I need is a strong cup of coffee, a long, lazy slouch in the armchair, then a good meal, and I’ll be right as rain. Okay?’
She smiled. ‘Okay.’
Once inside the house, Mac went upstairs to change out of his suit and into a pair of comfortable trousers and a short-sleeved linen shirt, while Rita busied
herself making him a snack to tide him over before lunch.
‘Rita! You know what?’ All excited, Mac came rushing into the kitchen. ‘I’ve had an idea.’
‘Really? I thought you intended giving your brain a rest?’ she joked.
Throwing himself into the chair, he reminded her, ‘It’s Friday.’
‘Yes, dear, I do know that.’
‘So, we have the entire weekend before us.’
‘It would seem so, yes.’
‘Right.
So how would you like to go and see the family – Don, Nancy, Brian and the children?’
Rita was surprised. ‘It’s a long drive to Heath and Reach. I thought you needed to relax? Besides, it wasn’t so long ago that we saw them.’
‘True, but it’s been a good while since I saw Don, and the Merc could do with a good long run.’
It would be so lovely to see Sammie again too, he thought … before the
child was gone, and the woman emerged. Once that happened, the magic was never really the same.
Her attention caught by the idea of going away, Rita had a different suggestion. ‘If you really want to go away, why don’t we go back to Suffolk where we spent our first anniversary? We could
stay at that lovely old manor house that was turned into a hotel. We always said we’d go back, but we never
did. Oh Mac, it was so beautiful!’
For a long moment it was as though Mac was miles away in his mind, as he sat deep in thought, shoulders sunk and his two hands wringing one into the other.
‘Mac! Did you hear what I said?’
He was visibly startled. ‘Oh no! Er, yes, I did. And I have no wish to go back to Suffolk, at least not yet. It’s just, I thought it might be nice to go and see my brother
and his family. Oh, I know we can’t stay there, because there isn’t any room, but there is a suitable hotel just down the road in Leighton Buzzard. Still, if you don’t want to come, I’ll go on my own. It will do me good … blow the cobwebs away, if you know what I mean.’
The idea of him going away without her was unthinkable and hurtful to Rita. ‘When did you want to go?’
‘Now.’ Clenching his
fist, he stamped it on the table. ‘I’ll pack a bag, just enough for two nights, and I could be away down that drive before you know it.’
‘All right then, but I’m coming with you.’
‘You don’t have to.’ In fact, he was really looking forward to taking off on his own. Every day of his life he was surrounded by people, and though he was deeply fond of his wife and would always take care of her,
she was not the most scintillating of company. Besides, there had been times when she had been positively jealous of him spending a quiet moment or two innocently chatting with Sammie.
He knew how badly his wife had wanted children and maybe she thought he was showing too much love to Don’s granddaughter. But Sammie was special. How you could not delight in her company?
He reassured Rita. ‘Honestly,
darling, if you’re not too keen on coming, I won’t mind. It’ll only be for a couple of nights.’
‘No, Mac! I want to come.’ Having realised how serious he was, she began to panic. ‘But what about lunch? It’s already in the oven.’
He laughed out loud. ‘Let’s be wild, shall we?’ he suggested. ‘Let’s just turn the oven off, and I’ll throw it all in the bin.’
Rita was horrified. ‘That’s so wasteful.’
‘So, let’s be wasteful … just this once, eh?’
‘Alright then. If you say so.’
She had never really understood him, she thought sadly. He was often unpredictable; his moods could be dark or light-hearted, and at other times – like now – he truly seemed a little mad.
Gulping down his coffee, Mac took a bite out of his sandwich before discarding it altogether. ‘You go and pack us a few things,’
he told his wife. ‘I’ll see to the oven and stuff.’
Infected by his enthusiasm, even Rita was beginning to get excited. ‘I’ll need to sort out my hair,’ she said, ripping off the ribbon which had held it back. ‘Oh, and I’d best leave a note for Peggy when she comes to clean.’
Mac wasn’t sure about Peggy. ‘Tell her to make sure she doesn’t leave the back door open like she did last time. If it
hadn’t been for the gardener, we could have come home to find the place stripped to the bone! If you ask me, she’s getting too old to be cleaning this big house.’
‘That’s unfair.’ Rita sprang to Peggy’s defence. ‘It was the first time she had ever left a door unlocked,’ she argued, ‘and she’s
not
too old. In fact she’s only four years older than me.’
‘All right! If you want her, then keep her,
but tell her she’ll be for the chop if she ever does that sort of thing again. Now go and get yourself ready … go on!’ Putting on the oven gloves he slid the tray of food out of the oven and for a moment the wonderful aroma of the plump cod chunks made his stomach roll with hunger. ‘Sorry, but you’ve got to go!’ With grim determination he marched them out to the bin, where he lifted the lid and
tipped them all away.
That done, he returned to the kitchen and quickly tidied up, then he went from door to window through the downstairs, checking the locks and securing the place.
Going to the office, he sat at his desk, picked up the telephone receiver, and dialled his older brother.
The phone rang for so long that he began to get agitated; he couldn’t cope with the idea that maybe the
family had gone off somewhere. At the height of frustration, he was about to replace the receiver, when suddenly Don answered. ‘Hello!’
‘Don?’ Mac smiled at the way Don always seemed to talk two decibels louder when on the telephone; he wondered if maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was a tiny bit deaf. ‘It’s me – Mac.’
‘Oh! Mac, how are you?’
‘I’m better now it’s Friday and
the week’s over. Honest to God, Don, it’s been a nightmare of a week.’
‘Well, there you go. That’s what happens when your main aim in life is to make money.’ Don chuckled. ‘You’ll never change, it’s in your blood. You’ve always been a go-getter, and I’ve always been
jealous as hell, but you’ve got it and I haven’t, and I suppose that’s the way of it. Still, while I’m content and settled, there’s
you still flogging away, making another pile, and when you’ve made your first million, you’ll no doubt be looking for your second.’
Mac had to concede that, because it was true. He was born with a mission, and that mission was to make money, but right now, at this moment in time, he saw it as more of a curse than a blessing.
‘You’re right in one way,’ he told Don, ‘and you’re wrong in another.
First of all, after the taxman’s done with me, I might make my first million. But at some point I definitely mean to retire.’ He gave a wry little laugh. ‘As you know, I’ve been saying that for the past four years.’
‘Aw, don’t go fretting about it.’ Don was proud of his younger brother’s achievements, but there were times when he did genuinely worry about him. ‘I’m sure you’ll know when the time
is right to put your feet up. Just don’t pop off before you get a chance to enjoy your money. It would be a crying shame to leave most of your hard-earned fortune to the Chancellor of the Exchequer!’
‘Well, thanks for that little gem.’ Mac gave a groan. ‘I’ll certainly bear it in mind.’
‘Good. Now then, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?’
‘First of all, what about you and the family
– are you all well?’
‘So far as I know, yes.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means I can’t speak for the others, but as we speak, Brian is outside trimming the hedges, with Lottie “helping” him, Nancy is out shopping, David is off somewhere with his new girlfriend, and Sammie … well, I’m not sure where she is, but I think she’s upstairs in her room. So, all in all, the family are fine.
I mean, you only saw them a week or so ago.”
‘So what’s happening with college?’
‘Colin who?’
‘No!’ Mac burst out laughing. ‘
College
, you daft old bugger. I thought David and Sammie were seriously thinking of going to
college
!’
‘Oh, right. Sorry, this phone’s playing up.’ Don knew well enough that his hearing was not what it used to be, but would he admit it? Not in a million years!
‘Anyway,
as I was saying, David has day release to study at the local tech for his job qualifications. As for Sammie, as usual, she’s caught up in a big argument with her mother. Nancy wants her to
do a shorthand typing course and get an office job, but Sammie wants to relax a bit first – get out of the classroom and earn her keep some other way. With the pair of ’em being strong-minded and stubborn, it’s
a job to know who’ll come out on top. Brian is saying nothing, and I for one, am keeping well out of it.’
‘So, it’s a case of wait and see, eh?’
‘That’s it. Anyway, what are you up to? And why the phone call? It’s not often you manage to pick up the phone just for a chat.’