For Better For Worse (17 page)

Sarah was well aware that they could soon end up on the streets. Luckily the nights were not yet terribly cold, so she would look for a shelter, a shop doorway or a space under the eaves of a bridge, and with all their things around them, surely she could manage to keep the cold night air at bay. Lu-Lu would be all right. She could still sleep in the pram, but Jenny was too big. Please God, she hoped it wouldn’t come to that because she knew that was an absolutely last resort. If she was going to avoid sleeping rough, there was only one other course of action left. She would have to beg her sister for help. If Vera would take Jenny and Lu-Lu for the weekend, Sarah was sure she would find just the place.

She decided to go over to Lancing after school. That would give the girls a whole weekend to settle down before Jenny had to go back to school on Monday and it would also give Sarah a couple of days without the children to concentrate on finding rooms. She would stress to Vera that it was only temporary and that if she helped her this time, she would never ask for help again. The more she rehearsed her little speech, the more convincing it sounded. All the same, at the back of her mind there was this niggling feeling that Vera would have none of it.

* * *

Annie’s heart was thumping. At the other end of the phone, and to her utmost joy, she heard her father say, ‘Worthing 253.’

She pressed button B and the coins dropped in the box with a clatter. ‘Daddy?’

‘Annie, how are you? How is the skiing going?’

She knew then that he had company and wasn’t free to talk.

‘I’m fine,’ she said, willing her voice to stay strong.

‘Good, good,’ he said and then his voice became muffled as he added, ‘that’ll be all, thank you.’ There was a short pause and then he added, ‘Are they treating you well?’

‘Yes, Daddy, I’m fine. Oh Daddy, he’s lovely. You’d adore him. He’s got your …’

‘That’s enough,’ said her father, cutting her off. ‘There’s no point in talking about this. You know my views and that’s an end to it.’

‘But Daddy,’ she tried again, ‘if you just saw him I’m sure …’

‘Annie,’ he said curtly. ‘No.’ There was a short pause while she struggled not to cry and he tried not to sound like the harsh parent. ‘You hurry up and get on top form,’ he said, his voice lightening up, ‘and come home.’

‘I want my son to come too,’ she insisted.

‘The subject is closed,’ said Malcolm, hanging up and leaving his stunned daughter listening to the dialling tone.

*

Kaye put the phone down and stared into the middle distance. Her mother’s younger sister had been living in her house for almost a week now and it hadn’t been an easy transition. Apart from a couple of run-ins with Mrs Goodall who expressed her concern that Kaye was turning her home into a halfway house for the mentally ill, Lottie was still frail after her ordeal in the institution and could only cope with being on her own for short periods. Kaye had given Mrs Goodall short shrift and had devoted herself to taking Lottie on long walks by the sea and visiting local tea shops in an effort to help her get used to normal life, but she would cling grimly onto Kaye’s arm and she froze every time someone spoke to her. To add to her present difficulties, Mrs Pearce, her new housekeeper, made no secret of the fact that she was nervous of Lottie and did her best to avoid being with her. Kaye had a shrewd suspicion that she and Mrs Goodall were in cahoots together and wanted to get rid of her aunt. Lottie might be nudging fifty but she still trailed around with a battered old teddy and constantly asked when she would be allowed to go back to her friends.

This should have been the most exciting time of Kaye’s life. The BBC wanted to see her and her agent again. With the promise of commissioned work, Kaye couldn’t afford to let it pass, but she would need to be in London overnight and probably, if she was invited to have dinner with the producer, be prepared to stay a second night in a hotel. The difficulty was that Mrs Pearce was going on holiday to Paignton in Devon to be with her sister next week and it would be unfair to ask her to change her arrangements. What Kaye needed now was someone to help look after Lottie.

Several telephone calls to friends drew a blank and the enormity of what she had taken on began to dawn on her. In the end, she rang a nursing agency and provisionally arranged for Lottie to be looked after by a live-in nurse, but it was far from ideal. The cost wasn’t the issue. Kaye was more worried about Lottie’s reaction to having a nurse. She worried that she may be panicked by the uniform. It was only as she strolled in the garden before dusk that Kaye thought of Sarah. When she had gone to her little house, it was obvious that Henry’s second wife was in dire straits, and when Kaye had taken her for lunch, she’d had the feeling that Sarah was a bit run down. She was a fiercely proud woman, but she might be amenable to looking after one middle-aged confused lady for a couple of nights, and she was sure the children would enjoy staying in her home. That one time when she had been to Sarah’s house, Kaye couldn’t help noticing that they didn’t even have a proper bathroom. She’d guessed that the rather odd shelving in the kitchen probably meant that the only bath in the house was probably under the boards. On the other hand, her home, Copper Beeches, had a lovely big bath where the children could play in the water for as long as they wanted. There was plenty of food in the larder, and apart from her own bedroom, she would give Sarah the run of the house. The more Kaye thought about it, the better the idea sounded. Tomorrow, she would get the car out and go and see her.

‘I’m looking for Mrs Royal.’

The man he had stopped looked blank and shrugged his shoulders. Detective Sergeant Truman, known affectionately as Bear had already knocked on several doors in the street before he found anyone at home. He felt sure Mrs Rivers next door was in but not answering and he couldn’t blame her. Since her son had been locked up yet again, the woman had no time for the police. He’d been surprised and strangely upset to see the eviction notice on Sarah’s door and the heavy padlocks across the handle. The windows were boarded up too. With everything else that had happened to her, hadn’t the poor woman suffered enough?

‘She left,’ said another neighbour passing in the street. ‘I don’t know where she went, I’m sure, but she packed up the baby’s pram and she left.’

‘When did she go?’ said Bear, tipping his hat.

‘A couple of weeks ago.’

Damn, he thought. He’d only just missed her. ‘Did you see which direction she went?’

‘I mind my own business,’ said the woman, shaking her head.

* * *

Annie’s baby had acquired a reputation for being the perfect, contented child. He slept all night, which meant that the night nurses didn’t come to the nursery, so it was four days before one of them realised that Annie was creeping into the nursery to feed the baby herself.

‘Don’t tell a soul,’ she told the startled woman, ‘and I’ll make it worth your while.’

‘Your father has left strict instructions …’ she began.

‘My father need never know,’ said Annie. ‘This is my baby and I will never give him up.’

‘But they won’t let you feed him yourself in the Mother and Baby Home,’ said the nurse. ‘You do know that, don’t you?’

Annie tilted her head defiantly. ‘I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.’

‘I really should tell Sister,’ said the nurse. ‘If you’ve got milk coming in, they’ll have to bind your breasts.’

‘Oh please …’ Annie pleaded. She kept it up until the nurse, worn down by her persistent pleas, agreed. As she left the nursery, Annie slipped one of her precious pound notes in the woman’s pocket and put her finger to her lips. ‘Don’t tell a soul.’

Alone in her room, Annie had spent some time composing a letter to her godmother. Auntie Phyllis was a bit of an eccentric who lived in a run-down property in Kent with her beloved dogs. The family hadn’t seen her for some time, but Annie knew Auntie Phyllis had her father’s disapproval because she was living in sin with an artist. Because they had never married, Annie hoped her godmother, unlike her father, would be broadminded about letting her keep her baby. Perhaps in return for a little housework, she might consider giving them a roof over their heads until Henry came home. She reminded her of her childhood promise, ‘Any time you need me, just holler,’ and hoped she could find it in her heart to give them a lifeline. Once the letter was in the post, Annie looked for a reply. By the time she and her son were taken to the Mother and Baby Home on the tenth day, Annie still hadn’t heard from Auntie Phyllis. It was a great disappointment. Judith looked a little puffy-eyed as she said her goodbyes, but she promised to pick Annie up in a month’s time.

‘It’ll be almost Christmas by then,’ Judith smiled. ‘We’ll put this behind us and have a wonderful time.’

Annie was cheerful and chatty, but the sinking feeling she now had was getting stronger by the minute. As they prepared her for the journey, the nurses bound her breasts.

‘I can’t understand why you still have milk,’ said the sister. ‘Your breasts are still quite full.’

When she had gone, Annie allowed herself a smile and eased the binding. Shutting herself in the toilet, she released herself from the bandages and expressed some of her milk over the sink with her hand. It seemed an awful waste but she had to keep her milk flowing for the sake of the baby. Someone came to the door and called out, ‘Are you all right in there?’

‘Yes,’ Annie called back. She pushed her breast back under the binding and turned on the taps to flush the milk away. Her father may have refused her a home but this part of the plan was working well. All she needed was a reply from Auntie Phyllis.

*

The walk to Lancing took Sarah an hour. The weather was overcast and there was a definite drop in the temperature. The wind was coming off the sea, so it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Sarah had put both children into the pram with the hood up and was making a game of pushing them. She knew Jenny was tired after school and they were both hungry, but she wanted to get to Vera’s place before dark. All their stuff, not a lot now, was under the pram and it was staring to rain.

She was three shillings short for another night with Mrs Mumford. She was tempted to go back and weather the landlady’s anger in the morning, but that would be like stealing. With all her troubles Sarah had never once stooped to thieving before. She had been a stupid fool. She should have asked for help earlier, but ever the optimist, she’d held out in the hope that something good would turn up the next day. She was determined not to let the children see her crying, so she had to keep swallowing the lump in her throat.

When Vera opened the door, the smell of frying sausages wafted out. ‘Sarah!’

‘I’m sorry to drop in on you like this Vera,’ Sarah began, her mouth salivating, ‘but I’m in trouble.’

Vera kept her arm on the door, effectively barring her entry.

‘I’ve been evicted,’ said Sarah helplessly.

‘Well, you can’t stay here,’ said Vera quickly. ‘We haven’t the room.’

‘I just need somewhere for the kids for a couple of days …’ Sarah began again.

‘No!’ said Vera, glancing anxiously up and down the street. ‘I can’t. You’ll have to find somewhere else.’

‘That’s just the point,’ said Sarah as the door began to close. ‘There is nowhere else. You don’t have to take me in, just the girls.’

Vera leaned out and hissed in her face. ‘I’ve already told you there’s no room here. If you’ve lost your place, that’s your own fault.’

‘Vera,’ Sarah said hopelessly, ‘please. They’ll take my kids away.’

‘Look, I’m sorry this has happened,’ said Vera, ‘but our place is far too small and I’ve just decorated. I want you to go now. Bill will be home from work soon and he won’t want to see you on the doorstep looking like a tramp. You’ve got no right to come over here trying to spoil what I’ve got.’

With that, the door closed. Sarah stared at the glass for several seconds and cursed herself for coming. She’d known in her heart that this would happen, but she’d hoped against hope that Vera might at least be willing to take Jenny and Lu-Lu.

‘Are we going home now, Mummy?’

Sarah choked back her tears and smiled at her trusting little girl. ‘Soon,’ she said, picking up the bootie which had fallen from her dolly’s foot, ‘soon.’

*

‘Have you any idea where Mrs Royal is?’

The woman across the road was putting her key into the front door. Kaye had come out to post a letter to Henry. Now that she knew exactly where he was, she had got her solicitor to draw up the divorce papers, citing two counts of bigamist marriage as proof tantamount to adultery. She didn’t have to worry about reputations being ruined. Sarah and Annie’s predicament was already in the public domain. As the letter hit the bottom of the pillar box, she felt a wonderful sense of release. All she wanted now was to find Sarah, so she’d gone straight round to her house and was puzzled to find it all boarded up.

The woman across the road shook her head.

‘Do you know when she’ll be back?’

‘You’re the second person asking me that today,’ said the woman. ‘Got slung out, didn’t she.’

‘What?’ Kaye was horrified. ‘But why? Where is she living now?’

The woman shrugged. Kaye chewed her lip anxiously. ‘I need to find her.’

‘Could try Mrs Angel.’ Kaye recognised the name and the woman gave her directions, but Mrs Angel, who had already put her ‘Closed’ sign across the door, didn’t know where Sarah was either. ‘I’ve only just got back from my sister’s. I haven’t seen Sarah yet.’

Kaye told her about the boarded-up house and the eviction notice in the window. ‘I had a feeling something wasn’t quite right,’ Mrs Angel said. ‘She asked me if I knew of any lodgings, but she never breathed a word to me that she was actually homeless. I thought she just fancied a change of scene.’

‘Do you think she could have found somewhere else that easily?’

Mrs Angel looked thoughtful. ‘Come to think of it, she’s never asked me to take the card out of the window.’

‘Do you think she would have gone to stay with anyone else? Her sister, perhaps?’