The Runaway Woman (3 page)

When Martin climbed into his old van, she gave a little wave, but he didn’t see it. He was already roaring down the street.

Disappointed, Lucy watched him until he disappeared from sight.

After lingering at the door for a
moment, she then retreated into the house, and closed the door behind her.

Martin drove just a few streets away, then turned into a narrow alleyway. After inching his way along, he carefully parked the van into a deep curve on the bend. He took a moment to satisfy himself that there was no one about, before clambering out and running across the alley and into the back yard
of one of the terraced houses.

From the back bedroom window, a woman watched him approach. She smiled. ‘Naughty man!’ she murmured lovingly.

Finding the back door open, Martin slithered inside, then turned the key in the lock.

Before he could even look round, she was all over him. ‘You’re late!’ she whispered in his ear. ‘I’ve been waiting ages for you.’

She opened her flimsy dressing gown
to reveal a slim naked body, and when he reached out for her, she laughed and broke away to run up the stairs.

Martin kicked off his boots and went after her. All thoughts of Lucy had long since vanished from his mind.

‘Look, he’s there again. Disgraceful, that’s what it is!’

Mary and Peter Taylor, retired from work these many months, lived in one of the adjoining houses.
Having spotted Martin creeping in and out of next door, Mary was now on a mission to keep an eye out for all the unsavoury developments.

Peter, too, peeked out the window. ‘Hmm! No wonder her husband cleared off after he caught her in bed with an ex-boyfriend.’ Although he would never admit it, Peter was the teeniest bit jealous. ‘Some folks never learn. Here she is, at it again with another
man, and without an ounce of shame between ’em!’

For weeks now, the old couple had regularly seen Martin hide his car and sneak into Paula’s house.

‘They should be tarred and feathered!’ Mary was up in arms. ‘I’ve a good mind to tell Lucy Lovejoy what’s going on right under her nose. How could they?’

‘You mustn’t get involved, Mary,’ Peter quietly warned her. ‘It’s not our business. I’m sure
you would not want to be responsible for breaking up Lucy’s marriage, rickety though it might be. Besides, her sister will probably get fed up before long, and move on to some other gullible bloke.’

Reluctantly, Mary had to agree. ‘All right then. But Lucy Lovejoy is such a likeable, honest person, and she really doesn’t deserve this.’

‘I know, but it’s not our place to interfere, and if we
did, then the two of us would be the baddies, caught up in the middle. But don’t you worry, the truth will out. It always does, one way or another.’

Glancing at the clock again, Lucy quickly finished her cup of tea and began clearing the table. ‘I’ll be late for work myself if I’m not careful, and that will never do.’ She prided herself on being a good timekeeper at the factory.

She put a flat tin dish over the top of the plate of eggs and bacon, then after turning the grill on low, she slid the plate underneath. That should keep it good and hot. Martin was right: good food should not be wasted, and anyway, Sam would appreciate a hot breakfast before he left.

Lucy glanced at the wall clock. It was high time he was up and ready.

A moment later she was at the foot of
the stairs, calling up to her son. When after two calls there was no answer, she raised her voice. ‘Sam, are you still in bed? It’s gone seven. Hurry up or you’ll be late.’

She was about to go up and wake him when his tired, lazy voice called back, ‘OK, stop yelling! I’ll be down in a minute!’

Satisfied, Lucy resumed her clearing away, but it wasn’t long before she was interrupted.

‘Mum!’ Sam
yelled down the stairway. ‘I can’t find any clean socks!’

‘Look in the top drawer of your cupboard!’ Lucy called back. When there came no reply, she was satisfied that he must have found them. Of course there were clean socks. When had there ever not been? Surely he didn’t actually need his clothes laying out ready for him the night before?

A few minutes later, Sam sloped into the kitchen, his
shoulders drooping and his eyes still sleepy. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any breakfast, is there?’ Dropping his tall, gawky figure into the nearest chair, he glanced at the clock. ‘Oh, Mum! You should have called me earlier.’

‘Well, you’ve still got time for some breakfast before you set off.’

Grabbing a tea towel, she covered her hands before collecting the plate of eggs and bacon from under
the grill. ‘There!’ She set it before him. ‘Be careful, the plate’s hot.’

Sam began tucking in, while Lucy proudly took stock of him.

Sam was just twenty-one years of age – lanky, defiant and often argumentative, like many young men of his age. With his attractive fair hair and light brown eyes, and his outgoing personality, he had enjoyed more than his fair share of girlfriends over the last
few years.

‘Are you enjoying your new job at the newsagent’s?’ Lucy asked.

He hunched his shoulders. ‘Yeah, I suppose.’ Digging the fork into the bacon he remarked sullenly, ‘This was Dad’s breakfast, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, it was, but he was late for work and didn’t have time to eat it.’

‘I know that.’ He gave her a sorry look. ‘I heard the two of you arguing.’

‘We weren’t arguing. It was more
of a misunderstanding. The thing is, your father needed to start work early,’ Lucy explained, ‘and there was a mix-up about the alarm, that’s all.’

‘Yeah … because you forgot to set it, like he asked.’ Sam gave a little chuckle. ‘I dunno, Mum. You’ve got a memory like a sieve.’

Pretending not to have heard this remark, Lucy hurriedly set about collecting up the used teacups. ‘So, do you think
this job might be offered to you on a permanent basis?’

‘Dunno.’

‘But if you were offered it as permanent, you would take it, wouldn’t you? Or perhaps think about going to college, learn a new skill?’

Getting up from the table, Sam made his way to the front door, where he put on his jacket. ‘Dunno.’ He gave a lolloping shrug. ‘You might as well know right now, I don’t plan on working in a newsagent’s
for ever. I suppose it depends on what comes my way. We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?’

Then he was out the door and running down to the bus stop, leaving Lucy wondering why she even bothered to open a conversation.

Beginning to panic, she glanced at the wall clock. She was due at work for eight thirty, which left her just fifteen minutes to be on her way.

Quickly now, she went to
the telephone, where she picked up the receiver and dialled her parents’ number. After just two rings, her father answered. ‘I were just walking past the phone,’ he explained breathlessly. ‘It frightened the life outta me. Who is it wants me?’

‘It’s me, Dad. I meant to call earlier but it’s always manic in this house, and now I’m rushing about. How’s Mum … is she any better?’

‘She’s not too
bad. I must say, that cough seems to be on its way out. She slept much better last night.’

‘Oh, that’s good. Look, Dad, I’m late for work, so will you just give her my love and tell her I’ll be round tomorrow evening?’

‘Aw, don’t you worry, she’ll be fine. But thanks anyway, Lucy. You’re a good girl.’ And before she could answer, he replaced the receiver.

Lucy smiled. It’s a long time since
I was a girl, Dad, she thought. Then, reassured about her poorly mother, she replaced the receiver.

Having grabbed her bag and put her coat on, Lucy was heading for the door when the telephone rang.

Startled, she grabbed the receiver and pressed it to her ear. ‘Hello?’

‘Lucy, I need your help.’ She recognised her son-in-law’s voice. Les sounded anxious. ‘Anne’s not been well
in the night – probably something she ate, or maybe she’s got some dreaded lurgy coming on. She hasn’t actually been sick, but she was burning up in the night, and now she’s feeling a bit rough. I’ve given her water, but she refuses anything else. She does seem a bit more settled now, but she hasn’t had much sleep at all … and neither has anyone else. Luke must have sensed she was unwell, because
he’s cried for most of the night. I nearly called you, but then he fell asleep. Poor little devil’s exhausted.’

‘Oh, dear me.’ Lucy was worried. ‘Well, at least she hasn’t been sick, and you say she’s feeling a little better … that’s good, but you’ll need to keep her warm in bed. Oh, and do keep checking on her. Tell her I’ll be round in my dinner hour, just after twelve.’

‘The thing is, Lucy—’

Lucy interrupted, ‘Les, did you call the doctor?’

‘Yes, and he thinks, like me, that she’s eaten something that didn’t agree. Anyway, he says he’ll pop in later, on his rounds.’

‘Aw, that’s good. You did right to call him.’ Glancing at the hall clock, Lucy grew more frantic. ‘Now, don’t you forget to tell her I’ll be there during my lunch break. I must go now, Les. I’m late already.’

‘No, you
can’t! You see, the thing is … I’ve been summoned to a union meeting up North. I should be on my way by now. There’s the threat of a strike. The union chap is spitting blood over a change in working hours. Feelings are running high. We have to sort the problem before it becomes a full-blown strike.’ He took a quick breath. ‘I did ask to be excused this one, but it seems there’s no one else qualified
to go. As you know, union problems are my department anyway.’

Lucy was devastated. ‘You should have rung them and explained the situation.’

‘I can’t do that. It’s more than my job’s worth.’

Lucy was torn. ‘But you said she’s feeling more settled now … apart from being tired, I mean. And Luke is OK, is he?’

‘Well, yes, but they need you, Lucy.’

‘But I’m just off to work myself. You know I’d
be round there like a shot out of a gun, but I’m already in the boss’s bad books because of time lost when I damaged my foot.’

‘I’m sure she’ll understand if you explain. Please, Lucy, with my own parents living miles away, and your mother not in the best of health, I’ve no one else to ask.’

Lucy was panicking now. ‘What about Maggie, your neighbour? She’s a good sort; she’ll be glad to stay
with Anne and the baby for an hour or so … or at least until I get my lunch break. I’ll explain the situation to my boss, and maybe she’ll let me leave earlier. Meantime, Maggie’s more than capable of keeping an eye on Luke. She’s had five children of her own. Anyway, the doctor will be round before you know it. If Anne does get any worse, though, and Maggie’s worried, she can ring the office at
work. I’ll be straight over, whatever the consequences. But from what you say, it seems Anne might well be on the mend. Don’t worry, Les. Just ask Maggie to hold the fort and tell her it’s only until twelve o’clock, then I’ll be on my way.’