Alexandra Connor - Hunter’s Moon

‘I love you David,’ she had whispered. ‘Love me, always love me, won’t you?’

Judge Arnold had beat a hasty retreat back to his own wing, but not before he had heard the uncomfortable sounds of lovemaking begin. Catherine’s urgency obviously irritated and excited David at the same time. Heat, passion and annoyance all pooling together on the other side of The Dower House.

Closing the connecting door, Judge Arnold had leaned against it. He could still hear his daughter’s hurried words. Love me always, David. Love me always. I couldn’t live without you. If you left me I would kill myself …

At dinner that night Catherine had been subdued, sated. David had talked business with his father-in-law. The storm had passed. Again. But Judge had felt the air pulse with tension and had glanced repeatedly towards his child.

‘What is it?’

Catherine had been luminously beautiful. ‘I’m so happy. So happy with my life.’

A shudder had fallen over his heart at the sound of the words …

‘Are you listening?’ Alwyn said heatedly, snapping the remembrance. ‘You looked miles away. The business with Dorothy is manageable, don’t worry. We can cope with it. We always do.’ Slowly she moved the wheelchair over to his seat and rested her hand beside his. Not touching, just lying side by side.

But the memory had unsteadied him. ‘Why did you bring Dorothy home? Why bring her here for the anniversary? I thought we’d agreed that this was the worst place for her to be then.’

Alwyn shrugged. ‘She asked me to bring her home.’

‘You didn’t have to agree to it!’

‘I couldn’t stop her.’

He shook his head. ‘It’s not right. It’s asking for trouble.’

Alwyn smiled at him as they exchanged glances. ‘We can handle trouble, my dear. We’ve had enough practice, after all.’

It was a cool evening as Alice caught the late bus from Trafalgar Street to the centre of Salford. Victor had fallen asleep in the chair and she had crept out, closing the door silently behind her. Pulling the collar of her coat up around her neck, she had gone to the end of the street, where she’d jumped on a bus. It had taken ten minutes to get to her destination, but now she was here, she was suddenly fearful.

Finally she knocked on the door. There was no response. She knocked again and waited. On the third knocking, she was rewarded by a light going on overhead and a woman in curling rags poking her head out of an upstairs window.

‘Who’s there?’

‘It’s Alice, Alice Rimmer.’

‘Oh, hello, luv,’ Mrs Dedlington replied. ‘I’ll come down.’

A moment later she was ushering Alice into the kitchen. From above came the sound of heavy snoring.

‘That’s our Gordon,’ Mrs Dedlington said smiling, ‘driving ’em home.’

‘I wanted to have a word with him,’ Alice said softly, ‘but if he’s asleep …’

Mrs Dedlington could see the distress on the girl’s face and led her to a seat. ‘What’s up?’

‘Victor has been told that he has to choose between me and his job.’

‘He what ?’ Obviously Mrs Dedlington knew nothing about it.

Alice rushed on. ‘Miss Lees is putting pressure on him. Apparently Netherlands and your husband have had an understanding for years. She’s forcing his hand. I don’t want Victor to lose his job with your husband, Mrs Dedlington, I want him to stay – and he won’t if he’s forced to choose. So I’m going to prevent him having to make that choice.’

Mrs Dedlington was listening sympathetically, a comical figure in her hair rags. ‘What you going to do?’

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