‘Yes, me too,’ she said, watery-eyed now.
‘It may take a little longer than I expected, but Jenny will come round,’ he said, hoping he was right and that he really could trust Marcos. A niggle of doubt arose, but Edward pushed it away. The man loved his daughter and, like him, he would only want her happiness, one that he must know included Jenny being part of her family again.
Delia was still going over what had happened as she lay in bed that night. At first she’d mistakenly thought that Jennifer and Marcos were living together, but then this had been followed by the news that they were married. They had brought the date forward and was it any wonder that she had jumped to the wrong conclusion? No, of course not, and Edward would understand that.
She had shown Edward that she was trying to build bridges, had been perfectly nice to Jennifer,
and it wasn’t her fault that the girl had been impossible. No, she had nothing to worry about; Edward was on her side, she was sure.
‘Can’t you sleep?’ he asked.
‘No, I can’t stop thinking about Jennifer.’
‘I’m the same. She was fine with me before this, but she’s been against seeing you again from the start. It was obvious that nothing has changed and now I’m in her bad books too.’
‘You can’t blame me for that,’ Delia protested.
‘She still harbours bad feelings towards you and I realise now that her back was up from the start. When Marcos persuades her to see us again you’ll need to make more of an effort, and for goodness’ sake, watch what you say,’ he said, rolling over so that his back was turned towards her. ‘Now let’s get some sleep.’
Delia was left stunned. These days she always fell asleep with Edward’s arms around her. They had been so close, so happy until he’d found Jennifer again. The girl wasn’t living at home any more, but seemingly that made no difference – as always, Edward cared more about his relationship with his daughter than he did about her.
‘That isn’t fair,’ she said, choking back tears.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, turning round again. ‘I know you did your best and I can’t blame you for what happened.’
‘You’re upset, we both are,’ Delia said.
Edward kissed her, but it wasn’t one of passion and, placing an arm around her, he closed his eyes. Delia closed hers too, but sleep still wouldn’t come. Maybe it would be all right after all, she finally decided, and even if Marcos persuaded Jennifer to see them again, it wouldn’t be a daily occurrence, just an occasional one. There was still the compensation that Jennifer was living in Almond Crescent and, if they did have a reception, one to which Penelope Grainger was invited, it could lead to what Delia had coveted for ages – a way into Penelope’s social circle.
At last Delia drifted off to sleep…and now she had a small smile on her face.
It was Monday morning and Tina was back in London. She was in Pimlico, staying in a hotel in Ebury Street, far enough away from the King’s Road to feel safe for now.
She had plenty of money left, but it wouldn’t last for ever and a part of her regretted turning down the ice cream stand. It would’ve been nice to be her own boss and opportunities like that didn’t come up every day. There’d be nothing to match it in London – well, perhaps a market stall, and the more Tina thought about it, the more appealing it sounded. She could sell just about anything from a market stall, but her first choice would be costume jewellery. Yes, stuff that was different, striking, and sure to attract trendy young punters. First things first though, Tina thought. She had to sort herself out before anything else, and so she now put the finishing touches to her make-up.
With no idea where Paul Ryman lived, she’d decided that the only way to find him would be to ask for
him at the police station. Though nervous, Tina left the hotel and headed for Sloane Square. She’d tried to kid herself that she only wanted to see Paul to ask for help, but there was more to it than that. Unless she straightened herself out, however, she wasn’t fit for a relationship with anyone.
Tina quickened her pace, keeping her fingers crossed that he’d be on duty, but it was a long walk before she reached Draycott Avenue. She entered the station and hesitantly approached the desk. At first the policeman on duty kept his head down, busy with some kind of paperwork, but at last he looked up.
‘Yes, can I help you?’
‘Could you tell me if Constable Paul Ryman is on duty?’
‘What’s this in connection with?’
‘Er…er, it’s a personal matter.’
The policeman went to a door behind him, opened it and called, ‘Charlie, have you seen Paul Ryman? Is he around?’
‘Search me. He’s with CID now, joined them this morning. You could try there.’
Tina’s ears pricked. So Paul was in plain clothes now, but was he still based in this station?
The man came back to the desk. ‘I expect you heard that. Take a seat and I’ll ring upstairs.’
Looking behind her, Tina saw a short row of shoddy-looking chairs and sat down. There were two other people waiting, both men; the younger
looked at her with interest. Get lost, Tina thought, as the stale stench of sweat and booze from the other one cloyed her nostrils.
She kept her eyes ahead, fixed on the desk, listening to the one-sided conversation as the telephone was answered.
‘I’ve got someone down here to see Paul Ryman,’ the copper said. He paused, presumably waiting until another person came to the phone. ‘Hello, yes, that’s right. No, she said it’s personal. Hold on a sec.’
He held the telephone away from his ear and Tina was beckoned forward. ‘What’s your name, miss?’
She told him, watching as he passed it on, and then he replaced the receiver. ‘He’s on his way down.’
Now that the moment had arrived, Tina suddenly had doubts. She couldn’t talk to Paul here, there was no privacy, what with the desk sergeant and the pair of geezers watching. Thankfully another woman came into the station just then, walking up to the desk and causing a bit of distraction.
A voice spoke from behind her. ‘Tina.’
She spun round. ‘Hello, Paul.’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I…I came to see you.’
‘Why?’ Paul asked, face straight.
‘Is there somewhere we can talk in private?’
‘Are you in some sort of trouble?’
‘No…yes…’
He opened a door. ‘We can talk in here, but make it quick. This is my first day with CID and a personal visit isn’t making a good impression.’
Her heart sank as she walked ahead of him. He seemed so cold, as cold and impersonal as this small room.
‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come.’
‘Why did you bugger off without a word?’
‘I…I was all mixed up and I wanted to get away, to make a fresh start, but…’
Paul interrupted, ‘Get away from what, Tina? Me?’
‘No…yes…’ she stammered. She had only told one other person, shame keeping her silent, but now she had to tell him, had to get help. The words caught in her throat but somehow she forced them out. ‘It…it was because of my father, and what he did to me.’
‘And what was that?’ Paul asked, but his voice was softer.
‘He…he interfered with me, you…you know, touched me.’
‘You should have told me that he’d found you instead of running off. I’d have nailed the bastard,’ Paul said venomously.
‘He didn’t find me,’ Tina said, fumbling for words. ‘I left because I was frightened of my feelings for you, how you made me feel.’
‘Tina, you’re not making any sense.’
‘I…I wanted you to…to touch me…but it’s disgusting.’
‘No, Tina, it isn’t.’
‘I want to believe that, but…but I need help.’
‘We’ll sort something out and I’m glad you came back, Tina. I went looking for you, but your flatmate told me her father had given you money to make a new start. I was angry that you’d left without a word, and felt sure that she had your address, but she wouldn’t pass it on to me.’
Tina had to think quickly. ‘I asked Jenny not to tell anyone where I was going.’
‘Look, I’ve got to get back upstairs, but don’t disappear on me again. We’ll talk later, but for now where are you staying?’
She gave him the address of the hotel in Pimlico and they arranged to meet that evening. Paul then hurried off and Tina left the station feeling much lighter. He was going to help her, and if it worked, maybe, just maybe, they could have some sort of future together.
In Wimbledon Jenny had been looking at swatches of material. Marcos had told her there was no need to trawl the shops, that he’d arranged for someone to call, and the woman had just left. Jenny had settled on rich, antique gold silk brocade with pelmets to match. They were not the most expensive in the range, about midway, and she hoped
Marcos would approve of her choice. He was so generous, not only with the housekeeping allowance, but he’d also insisted on putting money in her bank account too. After having looked after her own finances it felt a bit strange, but Marcos had told her not to be silly. She was his wife now, he’d insisted and therefore he’d see that she wanted for nothing.
Edna Moon appeared in the doorway, a cheery smile on her face. ‘I’ll be off soon, but do you fancy a cup of tea before I go, Mrs Cane?’
‘Yes, lovely, Edna, but I’ve told you earlier, you can call me Jenny.’
‘I know you have, but I don’t think Mr Cane would like that.’
‘Marcos won’t mind.’
‘I think I should stick to his instructions.’
‘When we came home on Saturday, I had the impression that you already knew Marcos before coming to work here.’
‘Yeah, well, my Tommy works for him.’
‘Really, goodness. In what capacity?’
‘He…er…works in one of the garages.’
‘Has he been there long?’
‘Oh yeah, he and Marc…Mr Cane go back years,’ she said, but then her eyes widened as though in fear. ‘Oh Gawd, I shouldn’t be telling you all this. Mr Cane will think I’ve been gossiping. Don’t tell him! Please don’t tell him!’
‘Edna, what’s wrong? You sound frightened, but why?
‘No, no, I ain’t frightened, it’s not that,’ Edna said quickly. ‘It’s just that I’ve lost jobs in the past because I spent too much time chatting and I don’t want to lose this one.’
‘Well, if that’s all that’s worrying you, I won’t say a word to Marcos, and as he won’t be here during the day, there’s nothing to stop us having a little chat now and then.’
‘Thanks, Mrs Cane,’ said Edna, looking relieved and bustling off.
Jenny was left feeling puzzled. Edna’s explanation made sense, but there was something underlying it…something akin to fear. Yet surely Edna had no need to fear Marcos? No, of course not, Jenny decided. Yet just below the surface of her mind, she was left with doubts.
It was nearly eight in the evening before Marcos arrived home. The legit stuff had all run smoothly in his absence, his choices of managers good ones. On the other side of things, Bernie had done well. The boys had brought cars in and they’d been turned round quickly before being sent out with new papers.
Bernie had made good money and the boys paid, but with so much high expenditure lately, Marcos felt his cash was running low. Yes, he had good
money coming in from both sides, but he had a lot more expenses now and could do with replenishing his coffers in one big hit.
Still, time enough to think about that later, and for now Marcos just savoured the pleasure of turning into his own drive and seeing his house at the end of it. Yes, it was fit for a lord, Marcos thought as he got out of the car, and he had a lady waiting for him. There’d be no moaning, no hands held out, just Jenny’s soft, relaxing voice.
‘Hello, darling,’ he said when she ran into the hall to greet him.
‘I’ve missed you,’ Jenny replied as her arms wrapped around him.
He sniffed the air. ‘It’s faint, but something smells good.’
‘I’ve made a spaghetti sauce and just have to cook the pasta.’
‘Nice,’ he said, kissing her. ‘While you do that, I’ll get changed.’
Jenny smiled happily and headed back to the kitchen while Marcos went upstairs to their bedroom. This was the life, coming home to a beautiful woman, one who welcomed him, not only his homecoming, but in bed too.
In no time he was sitting in the dining room and Jenny was nervously dishing up the meal. ‘I hope it’s all right. I caught a bus to the local shops, but I’m afraid I couldn’t get any garlic bread.’
‘A bus,’ Marcos said, frowning. ‘Jenny, I must get you a car.’
‘There’s no need – I can’t drive.’
‘Then I’ll arrange lessons.’
‘Oh, Marcos, thank you.’
‘I’ve been remiss and should have thought of it before this.’
‘We’ve only just married and moved here, yet already you’re going to arrange driving lessons for me. That’s far from remiss.’
‘Nevertheless, I’ll get onto it in the morning.’
‘I chose the material for our curtains today, antique gold. I hope you like them and that I didn’t spend too much.’
Marcos smiled. Jenny was perfect, just perfect, completely ungrasping. Now all he wanted was to get her pregnant, to prove his mother wrong. He was a man, nobody crossed him, and already Jenny’s father was finding that out.
In November, Tina made the final breakthrough. Thanks to Paul she was seeing the woman twice a week, but at first she’d been reluctant to talk. However, towards the end of her third session and just before her time was up, Tina had suddenly found herself spewing it all out. There had been so much locked inside, not just hatred for her father, but for her mother too, a woman who had stood back and allowed it to happen, instead of protecting her. A woman who had never shown Tina an ounce of genuine affection from the day she was born.
There was something else tucked safely in another compartment of Tina’s mind, something she hadn’t wanted to face, or admit, her guilt making it unsayable. Today the woman had opened that door and now Tina was crying as if her heart would break. It wasn’t just her parents. She hated herself too and for so, so long, had been disgusted that there’d been occasions when she’d almost enjoyed the touch of
her father’s hands. It sickened her, filled her with self-loathing.
‘How could I? It’s disgusting.’
‘Tina, you craved love, affection, and it would have been a natural response, your body simply reacting to stimulus. It’s a response that men like your father use to justify what they do.’
‘He’s made me as bad as him, as sick as him.’
‘No, Tina, far from it. Your father took your need for affection and abused it in the worst possible way.’
‘I…I’m going out with a bloke now, but if he tries to hold me I back off. I’m frightened of getting those feelings again. It would be wrong…bad.’
‘No, Tina, it would be perfectly natural. You see…’
Tina listened as the woman continued to speak, and it was as though a huge weight lifted from her. Until Paul came along she had thought she hated all men, had wanted to punish them by fiddling their change, blowing their money on clothes and luxuries. She now realised that in truth she had been punishing them for her own feelings too, for what her father had once aroused in her, for the poison of self-loathing that had crept into her mind. In betraying Jenny, had she unconsciously been punishing her too? Had she hated it that her friend had found happiness while she was still floundering in a pit of putrid self-loathing?
‘I’m afraid our session is over now, Tina, but we’ve made tremendous progress. So much so that you
may feel you won’t need to see me again. Give yourself a day or two. See how you feel, and if necessary we can make another appointment.’
Tina felt drained as she rose to her feet, guessing she must look a mess. She had cried so much that her eyes probably looked dreadful and her make-up ruined, yet somehow it didn’t matter.
‘Yes, all right and…and thank you.’
It was cold outside, but Tina hardly noticed. She still had things on her mind, and had been tempted to confess the awful things she’d done since she got away from her father, but was now relieved that the session was over before she’d had the chance. It wouldn’t change anything. What was done was done, but she would never do such things again. She felt free, liberated, as if the canker in her mind that had driven her had been cut out.
‘Hey, gorgeous, do you want a lift?’
‘Paul! What are you doing here?’
‘I knew you’d be coming out around now and as I’m finished for the day we can go home.’
‘But it’s only four o’clock.’
‘With all the hours I’ve put in lately I think my DI decided to cut me a bit of slack.’
She got into his car, smiling at him, but in return he frowned. ‘Tina, you’ve been crying. Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine, in fact more than fine. That may have been my last session.’
‘That’s terrific, though I still wish we could prove what your father did to you. I’d like to nail the sick pervert.’
‘I know, but I just want to forget him now, to put it all behind me,’ Tina said as they drove off. She meant it. How she felt now was thanks to Paul; in fact she had a lot to thank him for, not least the flat she now lived in, above his in Battersea that had somehow miraculously become available two weeks after she’d moved back to London. Paul said he’d had nothing to do with the previous tenant moving out but, as the man was a friend of his, Tina somehow doubted that.
‘I’m bushed, and sick of living on sandwiches. We thought our inside man had a sniff of something, but after weeks of watching and waiting it came to nothing. We’ve got enough to do the bloke for stolen cars, stuff like that, but the DI wants him to go down for more than that, and for a lot longer.’
‘What bloke?’
‘Now, you know better than to ask me that. Sod it, forget work. How do you fancy going out for dinner tonight?’ Paul asked, as usual taking nothing for granted.
Tina wasn’t surprised that Paul was tired. He worked long hours, sometimes long into the night and it wasn’t always possible to see much of each other. Yet when they did he never took liberties and she was growing ever more fond of him.
‘How about staying in and I invite you up to my place for a meal?’
‘What? Blimey, Tina, that’s a first.’
‘I know – but it doesn’t mean it’s a first time for anything else.’
‘If you’re saying what I think you are, you should know me better than that.’
‘Yes, I do. Sorry,’ Tina said. Yet maybe, just maybe, she thought, she was ready to take that next step. Paul was so hesitant around her, so frightened of scaring her off, but tonight she would try to let him hold her, kiss her. She had to move forward, to stop allowing what had happened in the past to ruin the rest of her life. With Paul, she was beginning to feel she could do just that.
On Saturday evening Marcos was sitting in the drawing room. A fire was glowing, the curtains drawn against the night, and he was admiring what Jenny had done with the room. He had of course given her free rein, and she hadn’t disappointed him, the cushions toning perfectly, and tasteful ornaments strategically placed. None of those statues of the Madonna, crucifixes, lace tablecloths, and the other sickening paraphernalia that the hags had favoured.
Jenny had class, taste, and Marcos was pleasantly surprised that she was still refusing to see her parents. There’d been one big mistake with the telephone – they weren’t ex-directory and so
Jenny’s father had been able to find their number. Marcos had been furious and the bloke he’d instructed to sort out everything to do with the telephone line and utilities paid for his slip-up with a split lip. Of course if Jenny hadn’t hung up as soon as she’d heard her father’s voice, it could have been worse, the man getting more than just a split lip. It had driven the idiot to sort it out and very quickly; they had a new number now, this time ex-directory.
Jenny’s father hadn’t given up though, he’d been to the house, but it had been left to Marcos to tell the man that she didn’t want to see him. Marcos had also told Edward that he was just making things worse, that he still needed time to talk Jenny round, and that until then it would be better to stay away. So far it had worked, but for how much longer?’
‘Here’s your coffee,’ Jenny said as she placed it beside him.
‘Thank you, darling, and that casserole was delicious.’
‘The cookery course is starting to pay off, the driving lessons too. My instructor said that after a few more I should be ready to take my test.’
‘In that case I’ll see about getting you a car.’
‘Don’t you think you should wait to see if I pass first?’
‘I’m sure you will,’ Marcos said, pulling Jenny onto
his lap, ‘but it doesn’t matter if you have to take it again. In the meantime it will be an incentive to see your own car in the garage.’
‘You spoil me,’ Jenny said, kissing him.
Marcos felt a familiar stirring. He was still a very happy man who looked forward to taking his wife to bed, knowing that he pleased her. He wanted only one thing now, to hear Jenny say that she was pregnant, that he was going to be a father.
Obviously aware of what he was feeling, Jenny stood up, saying with a mischievous wink and a smile before she left the room again, ‘Later.’
Marcos was content, but then his mellow mood was broken by the buzz of the new gate system. Who the hell was that? He wasn’t expecting anyone. He went into the hall, finger on the intercom.
‘Yes, who is it?’
‘It’s Robin. I’ve come to see my sister.’
Blast, Marcos thought. He could hardly deny him entry. ‘Come on in.’
He waited until he heard the sound of a car engine and opened the door to see a ratty old Citroën pulling up.
‘Nice motor,’ he said sardonically as Robin climbed out.
‘A present from Pater and preferable to travelling by train. I suppose you’re Marcos.’
Pater
, Marcos thought, what a pretentious twat, but he hid his thoughts with a smile. ‘Yes, that’s me,
and it’s nice to meet you. Come inside, I’m sure Jenny will be pleased to see you.’
Robin made no comment, but Marcos saw his eyes widen, even more so when they went into the drawing room.
Yes, he’s impressed, Marcos thought, and he was pleased. ‘Take a seat. I’ll find Jenny,’ he said, hating this invasion of his privacy.
Robin looked around at the room and then sat down on a sofa. His mother had told him about the house, but even so this was more than he’d expected. He’d arrived home last night, and though he’d already heard about it on the telephone, his mother told him again what had happened, his father saying that he couldn’t understand why Jenny was still behaving like this towards them.
A vision now walked into the room and Robin blinked. This couldn’t be Jenny, this glorious creature. Yes, she’d always been pretty, but now she was beautiful – perfectly dressed, perfect make-up, perfect hair. She was a woman now, no longer a child.
‘Hello, Robin.’
‘Jenny, you look fantastic,’ he said, rising to his feet.
‘Thanks. Are you home for the weekend?’
‘Yes, but if I hadn’t been told to wait, that you might refuse to see me, I’d have come before this.’
‘Nonsense, I’m sure Jenny is very pleased to see
you,’ Marcos said as he came to stand beside Jenny, an arm around her waist. ‘Isn’t that right, darling?’
‘Of course, and do sit down again, Robin.’
Robin hadn’t known what to expect, but found it awkward, as though his sister had become a formal stranger. ‘It’s been a long time, Jenny.’
‘Yes, it has indeed. Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?’
‘No, nothing thanks. I’m fine.’
At last Jenny sat down beside him, while Marcos took a chair by the fire, his dark brown eyes studying him. There was something in them, deep, unfathomable, and for some reason Robin felt intimidated. He’d come here for two reasons. One was to see his sister, the other to find out what the hell was going on, and he wasn’t going to let some daft feelings he had about Marcos stop him.
‘Jenny, I know you have good reason to feel the way you do, but I promise you, Mummy really is a different person now.’
‘Robin, she may be your mother, but she isn’t mine.’
‘I know that, but she wants to be.’
‘You might believe that, but I don’t. You’ve always been blind, taken in by her act, and now Dad’s the same. He’s taken her side too.’
‘Jenny, there are no sides, it’s just that a lot happened when you left, including my accident, and it somehow drew them closer.’
‘What accident?’
‘That isn’t important now; suffice to say that for a while they thought they were losing me.’
‘Dad didn’t mention it.’
Just then, the telephone rang. Robin thought he saw a look of annoyance cross Marcos’s face as the man said, ‘I’ll have to get that.’
Robin watched him leave the room, and then spoke to Jenny again. ‘My accident was a long time ago. Dad was so overwhelmed, so happy that he’d found you I doubt it crossed his mind. Now I don’t know all the ins and outs of what happened the last time you saw them, but what went wrong, Jenny?’
‘I wasn’t taken in by
your
mother’s act, and when I supposedly upset her she turned on the crocodile tears. Dad was annoyed with me, told me I should give her a chance.’
‘Dad’s right. You should give her a chance.’
‘Oh, you’re as bad as him.’
‘Jenny, we both know exactly what Mummy did, how she drove you from home, but we were also there to see the change in her, her contrition, and believe me it was genuine.’
Marcos came back into the room and Robin fell silent.
‘Who was that on the telephone?’ asked Jenny.
‘Just a business associate,’ he said, sitting down again. ‘Robin, you were saying something about an accident before we were interrupted.’
‘Yes, a nasty blindside, broken bones, but thankfully no lasting effects.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. Did Jenny tell you she’s taking driving lessons?’
‘No, we’ve been talking about my parents,’ Robin said, determined to continue. ‘Jenny, please, I know things went wrong, but won’t you give them both another chance?’
Jenny was quiet again, but at last she spoke. ‘Yes, all right, but I’d prefer them to come here. Is…is that all right with you, Marcos?’
‘I suppose so,’ he said.
‘Perhaps dinner then…tomorrow,’ she said a little hesitantly, looking at her husband.
‘Jenny, that’s great,’ Robin said, elated. He couldn’t wait to tell his parents the good news. He had told them he was coming here, knew they were hoping he could make a difference, and though he had other things to tell Jenny, not least about his girlfriend Julia, it could wait until tomorrow. ‘I hope I’m included in the invitation?’
‘Of course you are, silly.’
For a moment Robin saw a trace of how Jenny had looked at sixteen and remembered what he felt for her, what he had wanted. He flushed with shame. Those feelings had died now, but he felt a surge of affection as her playful punch brought back other childhood memories, games they’d played, Jenny always running to him for comfort when she had fallen over.
‘Great, I’m off now,’ he said, ‘but I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Make it around two o’clock,’ Jenny said.
It was Marcos who showed him out, but had Robin looked back he would have seen the worried look on Jenny’s face. Neither did he notice that Marcos’s face was etched with annoyance. Instead he drove home feeling pleased with himself, sure that everything was going to be fine now. After all, it had to be.