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Authors: Lynda Page

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BOOK: A Perfect Christmas
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Glen’s narrative abruptly stopped and he looked at his companion with surprise and shock on his face. He had never told another living soul the whole story of how he’d come to be in the dire situation he was now, he’d kept the whole sorry story locked inside himself. But somehow his subconscious had told him that this stranger would not judge him for his behaviour or use this information she now knew about him to her own advantage.

He took a deep breath and said gruffly, ‘Now you know.’

There was a look of understanding and also of great sadness in Jan’s eyes when she muttered, ‘Yes, I do.’ She looked thoughtfully at him for several moments before she said, ‘I expect you’ve lived all these years hoping that somehow your wife has been made to pay for what she did to you.’

Glen growled, ‘I would be lying if I said I hadn’t wanted to seek revenge, spent numerous nights trying to find a way to bring that about, but then I realised that all I was doing was making myself more bitter and twisted. Since then, all I’ve prayed for is that Nerys has kept good her promise to care for my daughter and has raised her to be an honest, likeable young woman with a promising future, as I would have done myself.’

Jan was looking thoughtfully at him. ‘It’s a pity you can’t find out your ex-wife’s whereabouts and have your mind put at rest over your daughter. I know you tried to find her when you first came out of prison, but there must surely be some way to unearth where she’s living. She installed a manager at the business, didn’t she? I realise his first loyalty will be to her, but he has to have a telephone number or some other means of making contact with her if he should need her say-so on a business matter, and they must meet up regularly for her to reassure herself that all is as it should be.’ She paused for a moment before adding, ‘We need to get into his office and have a rummage round, to see if we can find out where he keeps those details. It’s the only way to get a lead on where Nerys is living and for you to have your mind put at rest about your daughter’s welfare.’

Glen thought it was generous of her to be centring her thoughts on him when she had her own worries to face. ‘I’ve been to prison once, I’ll not go back again,’ he said cautiously.

‘Oh, I didn’t mean you should break in and run that risk.’

‘How then? I mean even if there were a ruse I could come up with to get into the factory, it’s not likely anyone would let a vagrant like me into the manager’s office unattended.’

Jan responded matter-of-factly, while thinking to herself that it was going to take some doing, ‘Then we need to get you smartened up.’

‘I’m dying to hear how, when you know I’ve no money.’

She had no idea at all, considering the circumstances they were both in, but was saved from admitting that to him by noises coming from the entrance to the shop doorway. They both looked over to see several young men leering down nastily at them. They were all either holding bottles of drink or newspaper parcels of chips. It was obvious they were the worse for drink. Jan inwardly froze. Her companion had warned her about possible trouble at chucking-out time, and she wasn’t sure what to expect. The men then started shouting abuse at them. It was extremely offensive and hurtful and Jan was ready to answer back, but she felt a hand on her arm and instinctively knew it was a warning to keep quiet. Receiving no response, the men then started throwing missiles. Several bottles fell short of their intended target and smashed on to the concrete floor around them. One did hit home and caught her companion heavily on his shoulder, but he instinctively caught the bottle before it too smashed on the ground. Jan then found herself being pelted with chips, and a half-finished parcel landed beside her. Finally, no missiles left to hand and finding no fresh abuse to hurl, laughing and joking together the men went on their way.

Deeply insulted, Jan snapped, ‘How could you just sit there and not retaliate?’

‘And give them an excuse to give me a beating? As you know yourself, no one will come to the rescue. When you encounter people like that it’s best to do nothing to provoke them further. Then, like those thugs just did, eventually they’ll get fed up and move on. Look on the bright side, though.’

She gawped at him, stunned. ‘Bright side! What bright side?’

‘We’ve landed ourselves supper,’ Glen told her, picking several chips off his coat and putting them in his mouth. He then took a swallow from the remains of the bottle of beer he’d managed to catch hold of. ‘That’s good. Long time since I’ve had a drink of beer. Want some?’ he asked her, holding the bottle out towards her.

It was just what she needed to help steady her nerves but Jan dreaded to think how long it was since her companion had last cleaned his teeth. She politely refused the beer. The newspaper parcel at her side was a different matter, though. She grabbed it, delighted to see a good portion of chips still left inside, and started ravenously ramming them into her mouth as if she hadn’t eaten for months, totally forgetting her manners and to offer a share to her companion as he had to her.

The chips were far from a banquet but enough to take the edge off Jan’s hunger. She had to stop herself from licking the last of the crumbs off the newspaper. She made to screw up the greasy paper until she remembered her companion’s words that in the world she was in now every object had value, so she smoothed it out and folded it up instead, then handed it to him.

Glen thanked her, saying as he put it in his sack of belongings, ‘That’ll come in handy to help light a fire with when I’m on my travels in the countryside.’ He then suggested to Jan that they move into the doorway next-door because of the danger to them both from the broken glass surrounding them.

Rehoused in their new shelter, Jan once again began to shuffle herself about, trying her best to get comfortable enough to snatch some sleep, her ears ringing to the sound of her companion’s snores. Finally, from sheer exhaustion sleep began to steal over her, but just before oblivion hit an idea struck her. Eyes wide open, she proclaimed, ‘Well, how stupid of me not to have thought of that before.’

Always with his senses on alert, at the sound of her voice Glen shot bolt upright, one hand automatically diving into his pocket to grab hold of the penknife while his eyes darted round seeking any potential danger. When he realised it was Jan who had woken him, he snapped at her, ‘You shouted out. What for?’

She shot him a triumphant look. ‘Because I know how we can get you cleaned up.’ The only part of his face that was visible, his eyes, told her he was utterly confused as to how and, as exhaustion had overtaken her again, at this moment she lacked the energy to go into detail. Lying back down again, her eyes closing without any effort on her part, she mumbled to him, ‘Tell you later.’

CHAPTER FIVE

I
t was with emotions of sorrow and misery mingled with fear that Cait let herself into the house, a gabled four-bedroomed detached property situated in the affluent leafy suburb of Oadby on the outskirts of the city. She took off her coat which she hung on the antique Victorian stand in the imposing hallway and then made her way into the tastefully furnished lounge where she perched on the edge of a chintz-covered sofa. She looked across at her mother, sitting reading in a matching chair by the side of the roaring fire. Cait knew she was well aware of her daughter’s arrival but, regardless, did not acknowledge her.

As she patiently waited for her mother to arrive at a place in the book where she was prepared to stop, Cait studied her. There was no denying the fact that, even though she was approaching her forties, Nerys Thomas was still a very attractive woman. She was tall at five foot seven, and slim. Her fashionably styled dark wavy hair framed a heart-shaped face, and her large almond-shaped eyes were the colour of African violets. Regardless of whatever she was doing she always looked immaculate, as if she’d stepped out of the pages of an upmarket magazine. But strangely she never went out, except to the beauty parlour or to shop for clothes, she had no friends, and didn’t invite anyone into the house but would keep any casual callers standing on the doorstep. With her looks her mother could have had the pick of any man she wanted, so why she had settled for a man like Cait’s father remained a mystery to her. Samuel Thomas was a small, puny man with thinning fair hair, pale blue eyes and a pasty complexion. He was not a good conversationalist but had a whining way of talking which was extremely irritating, had little sense of humour, and suffered from poor health through having a weak chest and heart. Cait strongly felt that her father thoroughly enjoyed his ill health, basking in his wife’s constant attention, and suspected that sometimes he exaggerated his sufferings if he felt he wasn’t getting enough of it. Yet her mother was devoted to him, would immediately drop whatever she was doing at a summons from him, fretted and fussed over him like a mother with her young child, and would have no word said against him. Her efforts to look immaculate all the time were on his behalf also.

Cait would often study her own reflection in the mirror and sometimes feel she had inherited her mother’s looks, sometimes her father’s, but in truth she resembled neither of them so assumed she must take after a more distant ancestor. There was no way of checking that, though, as both her parents were orphans and the past too painful for them to discuss. As far as she was aware her father had never held down a job and it was an inheritance of her mother’s that kept the family in the comfort they enjoyed

Neither of her parents was at all demonstrative towards her. It seemed to Cait that they showered all the affection they had on each other, and had none left to give her. As a young girl she had suffered many rejections by her mother, being told that she was acting selfishly in demanding her time when she knew her father was in need of it, or that Nerys was far too busy suddenly to drop everything on her account. As a result, from quite an early age, Cait stopped asking for any attention from her, to avoid the pain of being pushed away. She did well enough at school but never pushed herself to excel so failed to reach anywhere near her full potential. So long as she got out of the house and went to school, her parents were satisfied. She’d long ago stopped trying to work out what exactly they both found lacking in her that prevented them from showing her any affection, and barely more than their passing attention. Consequently she could only imagine what it would feel like to be hugged and kissed and made a fuss of, allowed into the private circle from which she had always been excluded.

The young Cait had showed all the signs of developing into an intelligent, caring and lovable girl. Unfortunately for her, though, she’d had a mother who stifled all these qualities in her, so the youngster had no choice but to observe Nerys’s ways of doing things and follow her example. Her mother was very brusque and matter-of-fact in her approach to others, especially those who worked for her, and would never allow them any sort of familiarity. If they acted informally with her, she always put them firmly in their place. Since Nerys had no acquaintances with children, Cait was a very lonely child, and when it came to going to school had no idea how to make friends. Her abrupt manner did her no favours either.

One day, though, she was in the playground eating some sweets when a girl approached her, and told her that if she would give her one then she would allow Cait to play with her. Cait was a quick learner. This set the pattern for how she would gain friends in future. Most of these relationships were short-lived, but she would regularly entice people to befriend her by offering them inducements she knew they’d be unable to refuse. That was how she had acquired the two friends she palled around with now, Gina and Clare, who worked with her as typists for a fruit and vegetable wholesaler’s.

As an attractive girl Cait was not short of admirers, but the only way she knew how to treat them was to behave exactly as her mother did with her father. That had to be the right way, surely. Consequently she smothered any man she went out with, knowing what he wanted or was thinking before he did and making herself indispensable to him.

One day when Cait was sixteen, Nerys had sat her down and bluntly informed her that, although the age of majority was twenty-one, her parents would consider themselves free from any responsibility for her once she reached the age of eighteen. They’d expect her to leave home and make her own way in the world, which was why she was being told in advance so she’d have plenty of time to make arrangements. Nerys informed her that she had been given no choice but to make her own way in the world when she was the same age, and had done well for herself. Now it was time for Cait to do so too instead of always relying on her parents. She had thought at the time that this statement was not entirely true as her mother had had her inheritance to fall back on whereas there was no mention of settling any money on Cait to give her a start. Before she could make any sort of response to this unexpected and shocking announcement, her father had summoned Nerys and without hesitating she had leaped up to see to him.

Cait had been left feeling terrified about how she was going to fend for herself on the money she could expect to earn as a typist. Her mind had turned somersaults, trying to work out how she was going to manage. There was one obvious answer. Whether or not she wanted to tie herself down so young, she had no other choice that she could see but to find a husband to support her.

Through going to the local youth club she met several likely candidates, but they all proved unsuitable. For them marriage was something far away in the future, after they had grown tired of having a good time and sowing their wild oats. With her eighteenth birthday just over a year away, Cait was starting to panic that she’d never find herself a husband before her parents’ deadline arrived and she found herself cast out on her own.

By now she had teamed up with Gina and Clare, using her usual method of buying their friendship by paying for most of the drinks and their entry into the dance halls they would all visit together twice a week. Though they had no idea why Cait was so focused on finding a husband, her forwardness with young men was extremely useful to her friends. When Cait spotted a likely prospect and was busy charming him, his mates often turned their attention to her companions and both young women had secured themselves quite a few dates that way. Like all of Cait’s other relationships, though, these flirtations were short-lived because most young men couldn’t stand her smothering ways and marriage wasn’t of any interest to them until way into the future.

BOOK: A Perfect Christmas
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