The old man was still anxious. ‘Yer should have booked into the guest-house, like I said,’ he replied. ‘Yer should not be sleeping in that damp bed … and the sheets must need a good boil, if they are still in one piece, that is.’
Kathy laughed. ‘You’re a real worrier! Look, I washed the sheets by hand and dried them on a line outside. I went across to the shop with two hot-water bottles I found, and the lady very kindly filled them with hot water, so I could air the mattress. I’ve had Ovaltine and toast for my supper, and a crisp, rosy apple to finish.’ She was grateful, though, for his concern. ‘I’m all right, Jasper, really I am.’ In fact, she was already feeling very attached to the house.
The old man was content. ‘It seems yer can look after yersel’,’ he remarked, ‘… an’ I’m just wastin’ me time.’ He had reservations, though. ‘I’m still not sure about the bed. Are yer sure it’s fit to sleep on, lass?’
‘Absolutely! Like I said … the sheets are washed, the mattress aired, and I’m not about to die of pneumonia, so will you stop worrying?’ She gave him a smile. ‘Still, it is nice to have somebody worrying about me.’
‘Right then, lass. I’d best leave yer to get some sleep,’ he said. ‘Seems to me you’ve had a busy old day.’
Satisfied that she was coming to no harm, he went back down the path. ‘By! She’s not only bonny,’ he told Tom, who had waited by the gate, ‘she’s capable, too.’
As the two of them walked away, Kathy caught sight of Tom. ‘Goodnight!’ she called. Tom returned the greeting with a wave and a smile that Kathy found appealing.
Tom was curious. ‘Does she really mean to stay in that house all on her own?’
‘As far as I know, yes. But, like I said, she seems capable enough.’
Five minutes later, having walked the old man home and chatted about this and that, Tom returned by way of Barden House. He hadn’t taken too much notice of it before, but even in the lamplight he could see how anyone might fall in love with the place.
At the corner he paused, his glance travelling upwards to the window where she was when Jasper first spoke to her. ‘Brave girl,’ he murmured. ‘She’s got her work cut out keeping that place up to scratch.’ He smiled to himself. ‘She seems an independent sort; I don’t suppose she’d welcome the offer of help.’
His heart leapt when suddenly the curtain was drawn back and the window flung open and there was Kathy looking down on him. She didn’t speak, and neither did he. Instead they looked at each other for a long, mesmerising moment, before he hurried away, embarrassed at having been caught loitering outside her house.
Kathy watched him stride away. ‘I don’t know who was more embarrassed … me or him.’ She thought she might relate the incident in her next letter to Maggie. But, on second thoughts, it seemed such a private moment she decided not to.
They were both so deeply disturbed by the encounter that it was a long time before either of them could sleep.
Kathy lay snuggled up in her bed, absent-mindedly watching the shifting skies through her window; while Tom paced the floor awhile, before picking up the photograph of his family. He stared at their familiar faces, and as always was filled with regret, and a sense of blind rage that even now he had not brought under control.
With Kathy’s face creeping into his mind, he felt the need to explain to his lost wife. ‘She’s like you, sweetheart … strong-minded and independent.’ It tore at his heart to realise he had addressed her as though she was present.
Replacing the photograph, he strolled to the window, his gaze drawn back to Barden House. He stayed there for an age, looking and thinking … with Kathy’s face strong in his mind.
Soon, those other, horrifying images swept away all else. Knowing what he must do before he could ever have a life again, he closed the curtains.
The next morning, back in London, a young woman rushed into a florist’s shop. ‘Mrs Taylor! It’s happened again!’
The manageress dropped the half-finished bouquet onto the counter. ‘What are you talking about?’ Since sending Gloria out on her deliveries, she’d been rushed off her feet, and was not now in the sweetest of moods. ‘Have you delivered all the flowers?’
‘Yes, but …’
‘Go on! Spit it out.’ She could see something had upset the girl, and now she was curious. ‘What’s happened?’
Gloria almost ran to the counter where, red-faced and flustered, she told her boss, ‘You know that order, to take flowers to the churchyard every fortnight … that poor family that got killed? Well, it’s happened again … The flowers I put there week before last … those beautiful roses and gypsophila … they were strewn all over the place. Somebody’s filled the vase with new flowers! I didn’t know what to do, so I squeezed ours in.’
She was close to tears. ‘That’s three times now, when somebody’s deliberately vandalised our flowers. Should we let Mr Arnold know, d’you think, Mrs Taylor?’
The manageress considered it for a swift moment before coming to the conclusion, ‘It can’t be children. They might take it into their nasty little heads to destroy the flowers, but they’re not likely to spend a fortune on replacing them with their own, are they?’
‘So, who is it then?’
‘I wish I knew!’ She had given it some thought before but she had not come up with any answers. ‘Who would do such a thing?’ she asked angrily. ‘Anyway, I don’t think we should worry Mr Arnold about it. We’ll just have to keep an eye on the situation.’
‘Well, I think it’s weird!’
‘That’s because you’ve got too vivid an imagination.’
Resuming her work, Margaret Taylor gave the order, ‘Move yourself, young lady. There’s work to be done.’
Chapter 6 (#ulink_71c9893a-f798-5577-b7ea-5d9975535821)
LILIAN WAS IN a bad mood. With Tom gone, she felt lonely and irritable. Even her bright new colleague, Alice, with her bubbly manner and quick smile, couldn’t cheer her up.
‘Whatever’s the matter with you?’ Alice was at the end of her tether with Lilian’s misery. ‘You’ve been so bad-tempered … downright rude sometimes! Are you ill, is that it?’
All day long, Lilian had been snapping and snarling, and now with only five minutes to go before finishing for the day, she was seated at her desk, head in hands, seemingly oblivious to everything that was going on around her.
On hearing Alice’s remarks, she sat up to stare at the other young woman, her face unhappy. For a moment it seemed she might angrily rebuke Alice, but the moment was gone when Dougie walked in through the door. ‘All right, are you, girls?’
Delighted at having just concluded a new deal, he was full of himself. ‘So, who wants to kiss the man of the day?’ Holding out his arms, he turned from one to the other, pretending to swoon when Alice planted a smacker on his cheek. ‘Well?’ Leaning across her desk so he could look Lilian in the eye, he teased, ‘Too good to kiss an old mate, is that it?’
‘Some other time, eh?’ Lilian was in no mood for Dougie’s high spirits.
‘Oh, dear, caught you in a bad temper, have I?’ Catching Alice’s warning glance, he backed off. ‘Right then, I’d best get back to my desk … I’ve a few phone calls to make before I can get off home.’
As he went, he warned them, ‘It’s raining cats and dogs out there, so mind how you go, eh?’ Alice thanked him. Lilian allowed a curt nod, and the merest of smiles.
Ten minutes later, after tying up a few loose ends, she had her coat on and was ready to leave.
‘See you tomorrow,’ she told Alice.
‘I hope you’re in a better mood by then!’ Alice muttered as the door closed behind her fretful colleague.
Giving Alice the fright of her life, the door opened again, and Lilian’s eyes sought her out; for a minute Alice thought she’d overheard her mutterings.
‘Look, Alice … I’m sorry I’ve been in a foul mood all day.’
Relieved she wasn’t about to be hung, drawn and quartered after all, Alice told her not to worry, because she knew what it was like to have a bad day.
One by one the other offices emptied, until ten minutes later Alice and Dougie were the last to leave. ‘What’s wrong with Lilian?’ Pausing in the foyer to prepare for the pouring rain, he remarked on how he’d never known her to be in such a bad mood.
Alice didn’t know for sure. ‘Maybe she’s not well,’ she suggested. ‘I think she pushes herself too hard. She does twice the amount of work I do.’ It was an odd thing. ‘Some days she seems tormented. It’s like she has to keep herself occupied every minute. Me … I like to go down the street to the coffee shop for my lunch. It breaks the day up, if you know what I mean. But Lilian doesn’t leave the office from the minute she comes in to the minute she goes home. She has her tea and sandwich at her desk, and if she goes to the ladies’ room, the first thing she wants to know when she gets back is whether there’ve been any calls for her.’
Dougie was beginning to understand. ‘And have there?’
‘What?’
‘Been any calls?’