Kitty Neale - A Father’s Revenge

‘He’d better not,’ Bernie growled. ‘And anyway, if you tell John the truth about Kevin, he won’t be so keen to see him.’

‘No,’ Pearl protested. ‘He’s far too young to cope with it yet.’

There was the sound of footsteps and John appeared in the doorway, bringing the conversation to an abrupt end.

‘Well, lad,’ Bernie said, ‘I’d best be off, and Pearl, tell Emily I said happy birthday. I’m sure she’s going to be thrilled with that cake.’

‘Yes, she’ll love it,’ Pearl agreed, ‘and we’re taking her to the theatre tonight.’

‘That sounds right up Emily’s street,’ Bernie commented, then said his goodbyes. He was thoughtful as he got into his car. They were a happy family and having lived in Emily’s house since he was a baby, John had only ever known love and stability. If Kevin got out, all that could change, and Bernie found himself again hoping that his son would remain in prison.

At five thirty, Emily clapped her hands with delight. ‘Oh, look, Tim, it’s such a beautiful cake.’

‘Yes, it is,’ Tim agreed as he held out a chair ready for her to sit down.

The cake was in the centre of the table, and there were cucumber sandwiches, tiny rolls stuffed with tuna, some with egg, and lovely home-made biscuits. Emily smiled as she looked around the table. Her friends, Libby Moore and her husband, were smiling back, her gorgeous grandson too, and of course Derek and Pearl. From the day she had found her daughter again, Emily’s life had been full of joy. They had lived together for thirteen years now and were very close, with Derek moving in too when he married Pearl. They had been happy years, yet it still hurt Emily that she had missed so much of Pearl’s childhood.

Emily would never forget how furious her father had been when she had become pregnant out of wedlock. She had been kept a virtual prisoner in her parents’ large house, out of sight of anyone, and when she had given birth she was heartbroken to be told her baby was stillborn. Many, many, years later, when her father was on his deathbed, he had taken great delight in telling her that she would inherit nothing. He had then confessed that her baby hadn’t been stillborn after all, that she had lived, and he’d abandoned her on the steps of an orphanage. Her baby had been found clutching a tiny button, and with no other form of identification that was how she’d been named: Pearl Button, though of course she was now Pearl Lewis.

Derek laughed at something Pearl said, breaking Emily out of her reverie. She hadn’t been sure about Derek at first. She had heard all about Pearl’s first husband, Kevin Dolby, and Emily feared that as the two men had known each other, Derek would be cut from the same cloth. Thankfully she’d been wrong: Derek was a wonderful man and she’d become very fond of him.

‘Happy birthday, Gran,’ said John as he held out a package.

Emily unwrapped the gift, loving the pretty box of handkerchiefs with lace edging and her initials embroidered in one corner. ‘Thank you, darling. They’re beautiful.’

‘This is from us, Mum.’

In the small box, Emily was thrilled to find a delicate gold chain hung with a pretty pearl locket. ‘I just love it,’ she said, smiling with happiness.

‘Emily, I’m so sorry,’ Tim said softly, obviously embarrassed. ‘I haven’t got you a gift.’

‘It really doesn’t matter,’ she told him, just glad to have him there. She had been friends with Delia, Tim’s late wife, and had always been fond of them both. Tim had been lost when Delia died, but just recently Emily’s platonic friendship with him had slowly begun to develop into something more. Of course he was still grieving and it was far too soon to take things any further, but maybe, in the future … just maybe …

Derek awoke earlier than usual on Friday. Careful not to wake Pearl, he climbed out of bed, shivering as he threw on his dressing gown before making his way to the kitchen. It was still cold, but perhaps next month they’d see a decent rise in the temperature. He lit the fire, and then placed the kettle on the gas stove, unable to stop his thoughts turning to Kevin Dolby. There had been no news from Bernie about the parole hearing, and with any luck that meant he’d been turned down.

‘I thought I’d be the first one up this morning.’

Derek turned to smile fondly at Emily. ‘We’re both early birds then,’ he said, struck as always by her tiny, birdlike appearance. Some people assumed that Emily was frail, yet although she had angina, she hadn’t had a bad attack for many years. He’d heard all the jokes about mothers-in-law, but none applied to his relationship with Emily. From the day he’d married Pearl and moved in, Emily had given them plenty of space, even using her bedroom as a sort of sitting room too, with a couple of chairs on each side of a small fireplace, along with a radio and television. They’d protested, but Emily insisted that she liked it that way and it meant that she could watch the TV programmes she preferred.

‘I see you’re making a pot of tea,’ Emily said.

‘Yes, it won’t be long now.’

‘I’ll take over if you like,’ she offered.

‘Thanks. I’ll go and get ready for work while it’s brewing,’ Derek said. As he went up to the bathroom his thoughts returned to their living arrangements.

Even now, when Emily wasn’t next door with Tim, she spent most of her evenings in her room, watching programmes like All Creatures Great and Small, while Derek preferred The Sweeney. It was a good choice of title for the police series – Sweeney Todd, slang for the flying squad. Over the years Derek had suggested that they find a place of their own to rent, but somehow it never happened, both Pearl and her mother happy to keep things the way they were.

Derek hadn’t found moving to Winchester easy. He’d managed a boxing gym in Battersea, but a similar role had been impossible to find here. With no other skills, or choice, he’d started out as a painter and decorator’s labourer, but he’d learned quickly and his capabilities increased until he became proficient enough to start out on his own. He didn’t make a fortune, his jobs only small ones, but he was working for himself and preferred it that way. Recently though, he’d quoted for a job on a housing development, a big one with a great profit margin, and now his shoulders straightened. If it came off they would have a deposit, a chance to buy a house. Surely Pearl would love that?

After taking Clive to school, Lucy was now at the shop. She switched on the lights and then went through the back to the bottom of the stairs. ‘Nora, it’s me,’ she called. ‘I’m just going to open up.’

All was quiet and, worried, Lucy shouted again, ‘Nora! Nora, are you there?’

There was still no answer and, seriously concerned now, Lucy hurried upstairs. Nora was usually up by now and would have managed to prepare a simple breakfast of cereals for herself and Bessie.

Lucy looked in Nora’s room, but the bed hadn’t been slept in. She went up to the next floor and to her relief saw that Nora was there in Bessie’s room, sitting in a chair, bent double with her head resting on the bed, fast asleep.

The bedside lamp was still lit, and as Lucy crept forward she gasped. Like Nora, Bessie was asleep but she looked awful, her breathing shallow and wheezing. Lucy floundered, unsure what to do, but just then Bessie’s eyes fluttered open, and she struggled to sit up.

‘Here, let me help you,’ Lucy cried.

Nora awoke, her eyes cloudy with confusion for a moment, but when she saw Lucy trying to help Bessie, she joined in, plumping the pillows and putting them behind Bessie’s back. It didn’t seem to help and Bessie’s breathing was still ragged.