Living in the Shadows (20 page)

‘Happened between Linda and Martin.’

Nelly jerked her shoulders. ‘Is that why you’re here? I know nowt … nothing about that.’ What she did know, she sure as hell wasn’t going to tell Linda’s mother; a confidence was a confidence. She nodded, agreeing with herself.

‘No, of course not. Why should you?’ Ellen unbuttoned her turquoise jacket and shook the lapels open to show a pristine white blouse. She looked rattled; Nelly pressed her lips together to stop the grin, yet dreading what Ellen was going to say. ‘No, I’m here because of…’

The hiatus between them lengthened, only the low tick of the clock on the mantelpiece and Nelly’s rasping breathing broke into the silence.

‘You know, I suppose?’ Ellen blurted the words out.

‘Know what?’

‘Oh, for God’s sake. About your son?’

‘Oh, that.’ Nelly wouldn’t let her know how that word made her heart race. ‘I know. Yes.’

‘Linda said last night she’d told you about—’

‘George? Yes, she did.’ Even saying his name made Nelly nauseous; years ago she could have handled this but now…

‘It was a shock when Ted told me, I can tell you that.’ Ellen pulled at the cuffs of her jacket, wafted her hair back from her face with a toss of her head. ‘Until this last week I didn’t even know Linda’d been having trouble at work.’

No, you wouldn’t. Nelly thought, studying her, ignoring the fact that Linda had only told her just before telling her mother.

Ellen was pronouncing her words so precisely Nelly wondered if she’d already been drinking, even though it was only early afternoon. ‘And about this girl Richard’s met?’

‘Yes?’ Nelly wasn’t going to help.

‘She’s his stepdaughter, I believe.’ Ellen shivered. ‘I felt sick when we found out who she was. We don’t know what to do except hope Richard forgets her once he’s home.’

‘I think that’s a lost hope. He’ll be coming back to Ashford, or at least, Manchester, if he gets that job at the hospital.’

‘What can we do?’

What did she mean,
we
? ‘Nowt. Nothing we can do.’ Nelly felt a wave of worry. ‘Has anybody told Mary?’ She sucked on her teeth. How was poor Mary going to deal with all this?

‘Well, no. We can’t at the moment. Obviously.’

‘What d’you mean … obviously? Why can’t she be told?’ She saw from the almost triumphant look on the woman’s face that Ellen knew something she didn’t.

‘With Peter having his heart attack last week.’

Oh, Lord. Nelly’s skin tingled with shock. ‘I didn’t know,’ she said, slowly.

‘I wanted to go to see her but Ted and Linda thought I shouldn’t. Not yet anyway.’

Quite right, Nelly thought – selfish mare. The last thing Mary needs is this one blubbering all over the place and making it all about her.

‘And anyway, I thought it better that I come to see what you intended to do.’

‘I don’t intendto
do
anything.’ Nelly’s thoughts were still on Mary. She wondered how she could get hold of her, speak to her. She’d never held with having one of them telephones in the house but now she regretted it.

The back gate opened and closed with the familiar squeaking of the hinges and then a tap on the back door, which was slightly open.

‘Mrs Shuttleworth? It’s Jackie. Are you there?’

‘Come in, pet.’

Jackie was clearly surprised by Ellen’s presence. The young woman who followed her in had her hand on Jackie’s shoulder. Must be her friend, Nelly thought: the one Linda had told her about. ‘Nicki, is it, pet?’ She was enjoying Ellen’s discomfort; she could tell Linda’s mam didn’t know what to make of the girl in her big boots and dungarees.

‘Yes.’ The girl smiled, holding out her hand to Nelly. Her grasp was warm and firm. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you, Mrs Shuttleworth.’

‘All bad, I ’ope.’ Nelly chuckled.

‘We popped in to say we just called at your house, Auntie Ellen, to make sure Linda and Richard had got off all right.’ Jackie glanced from one to the other of the two women. ‘Uncle Ted told me you were here, Auntie. I was a bit surprised.’

Ellen looked discomfitted.

‘’Ow’s Peter?’ Nelly asked.

‘Uncle Ted said you might let slip about Uncle Peter’s heart attack.’ Jackie glanced at Ellen.

Let slip my backside, Nelly thought; the woman gloried in telling me.

Ellen bristled. ‘How was I to know it was supposed to be a secret?’

‘Anyway he’s fine, Mrs Shuttleworth. Uncle Ted’s spoken to Auntie Mary and she said he was recovering brilliantly.’ She looked at Nelly. ‘She says she’ll write and let you know but, if Richard gets the placement at the hospital, they’ll be coming here anyway and she’ll see you then. She said she’ll ring you, Auntie Ellen.’

Ellen moved her head acknowledging Jackie, but didn’t take her eyes off Nicki.

‘Well, that’s all really. We’re just on our way out.’ Jackie gave Nelly a hug. ‘Linda asked me to keep an eye on you while she’s away, Mrs Shuttleworth. She says you have to behave yourself and take your tablets. So I’ll… We’ll call in tomorrow.’

Nelly had seen Jackie noticing Ellen’s gawping. She grinned as Jackie took hold of Nicki’s hand as they left.

‘Well,’ Ellen said, ‘Well. How extraordinary. What an odd way for a young woman to dress. And that hair. She might as well have been a bloke, it’s that short.’ She stood, fastening the buttons on her jacket and smoothing down her pencil skirt. Taking a long breath she stared down at Nelly who couldn’t stop the grin.

‘You’ll let me know if anything… If he turns up?’ Ellen’s lip was quivering.

The worry was instantly back. Nelly frowned. For once she felt sorry for the woman. ‘I’ll let you know, Mrs. Booth. But I wouldn’t fret. I doubt he’ll come here. I doubt you’ll get any hassle off him. From the sound of things…from what your Linda said, he’s got a new life now, as well as a new name. He won’t want to be found any more than we want anything to do with him.’

Ellen lowered her head. ‘I hope you’re right!’ Her mouth almost moved into a smile.

When the gate closed, Nelly blew out her lips in a long sigh. She pulled at her top set of teeth and put them on the table. She hoped she was right as well.

Chapter 41: Ellen & Ted Booth

Ashford, evening: Sunday, September 28th

‘Our William’s moved out…’ Ted was hosing down the yard and sweeping the water out into the alleyway when Ellen arrived home.

‘What?’ She barely took in what he’d said. Calling on Nelly Shuttleworth was a big mistake; it was as if the woman had been judging her for some reason. And the old bat definitely knew more than she let on. Ellen bit the skin at the side of her thumbnail. She’d learned nothing and, from the look of things, Nelly Shuttleworth wouldn’t do anything either. Hell’s bells, George Shuttleworth – Worth, whatever he was calling himself these days – was her son, after all. It was up to her to tell him that it wasn’t their fault their nephew was seeing his stepdaughter. They hadn’t encouraged him.

If anything happened to Linda again she didn’t know what she would do. It didn’t matter what Ted said about Shuttleworth not wanting to raise his head above the parapet, not wanting to get noticed by the police, he was a nasty piece of work. If he intended to harm them in some way, he would. No police threat would put him off. She was scared.

Ted straightened up, leaned on the brush. He was staring at her, as though waiting for a response.

She noticed her husband fingering the faint scar on his cheek, the constant token of his time as a prisoner of war. And an uncomfortable reminder that she’d learned to love him once – was still quite fond of him sometimes, before too many memories crowded in. Her throat constricted with wretchedness, despising him for his weakness: despising herself because she knew she needed him, would never leave this bloody place.

She frowned, taking off her jacket and folding it over her arm. ‘What did you say?’

‘William’s moved out. He’s left home.’

‘What do you mean, he’s left home?’ Her voice shrilled. She knew she’d lost Linda years ago because of the drinking, but her son had never judged her. Now he had gone? ‘Why?’

Ted sighed. She had that hard look on her face, her mouth tight into a line, her eyebrows drawn together in a peevish frown. For the first time he saw how bitter she looked. ‘He’s gone to live with that girlfriend of his. The one he’s been seeing for the last year.’ And good luck to him, Ted thought, he’s better off out of here.

‘The one we’ve never seen, you mean.’ Ellen stood rigid in the doorway, poised to attack.

‘Aye, well, perhaps there’s a reason for that.’ Ted was weary. Too much was happening lately. On top of trying to keep Ellen off the booze all the time, this business with George Shuttleworth was tiring him out. The last thing he was wanting was a row.

‘Which is?’

‘She’s married.’

‘Oh, my God.’ She’d turned away to go into the kitchen but stopped when he spoke again. The tension in her chest only allowed short abrupt intakes of breath,

‘And with a kiddie.’ Ted watched her warily. ‘Separated, he says, though.’

She didn’t move. Still with her back to him she said in a taut voice ‘And has he told you where he’s gone? Like his address?’

‘No, I didn’t think to ask. He said he’d come round in a couple of days and have a chat with you.’

Air rushed into Ellen’s lungs with a huge inhalation. ‘So he could have gone to Timbuctoo for all you know. For God’s sake, Ted, you’re useless.’ She threw her hands into the air. ‘How much more can I take from this family?’

She crashed the door closed behind her.

Ted shut the yard gate and carried on sweeping what was left of the dirty water into the grid in the middle of the yard. She’d come round; she always did. But no doubt he’d be on the sharp end of her tongue for a few days. And no doubt she’d be down to the offy to get some booze and he’d be eating the corn beef and potato hash he’d gone to all that trouble to make, on his own. Ted folded his hands on the brush and rested his chin on top. Good job Linda’s away to Mary’s, he thought. He wondered if she and Richard had got to Llamroth yet. And how soon she’d tell Mary about George Shuttleworth.

Chapter 42: Linda Booth & Mary Schormann

Llamroth: Sunday, September 28th

‘It’s so lovely to see you again, Linda.’ Mary hugged her niece as she stepped from the train. ‘Richard, sweetheart.’ She faced him, touching his cheek. ‘You all right?’

‘Long day. The train went all over Wales to get here,’ he said.

‘We’re lucky this station stayed open,’ Mary said. ‘A lot didn’t.’

‘I know,’ Richard said. ‘You might have had to come to Cardiff to get us, isn’t it. Anyway, more important, how’s Dad?’

‘It was just a minor scare in the end. He’s friendly with the heart specialist at Pont-y-Haven and he pulled some strings. They let him home, providing he rests.’ Mary gave a short wry laugh. ‘But he’s a fidgety patient, to say the least; I’ve nearly had to tie him down. Anyway, he’s much better.’

‘Used to being on the other side of the desk,’ Richard said.

‘You’re right. But seeing you two will be the best tonic for him.’ She included each of them in a smile but her voice faltered. ‘If only your sister would let us know where she is.’

‘So no news?’

‘No.’ Mary’s eyes filled; she brushed the tears away. ‘Nothing. We can’t think where else to look, who else to ask.’

Linda fiddled with the strap on her suitcase, an unwilling onlooker to her aunt’s distress. If Vicky was standing in front of her right now she’d give her a good shake. Her cousin’s selfishness made what she had to tell Auntie Mary more difficult.

‘She’ll be fine; you do know that, don’t you?’ Richard said. ‘She’s perfectly capable of looking after herself.’

‘I hope you’re right.’

‘I am.’ Richard hoisted his rucksack onto his shoulder.

Mary touched it. ‘That new?’

‘Yeah. I’ll tell you about it sometime.’

The porter slammed shut the last of the doors and blew on his whistle. With a squeal of wheels the train stuttered away from the platform and out of the station.

‘You must both be worn out after that journey.’ Mary linked arms with both of them.

‘Exhausted.’ Linda picked up her suitcase with her free hand. ‘Thought we’d never arrive.’

‘Let’s get you home, then. I parked the car on the road outside the station.’

Twenty minutes later they were at the cottage.

‘It’s great to be here. Just look at that sunset.’ Linda watched the colours flickering through the trees on the opposite side of the road as the sun dropped below the horizon in a blaze of fiery orange and scarlet, lighting the sea into a ruby redness. High above, creamy yellows and pinks rippled through the layers of clouds. ‘Beautiful,’ she breathed, ‘just beautiful.’

They stood for a moment by the gate, savouring the peace. Then: ‘Come on; let’s get your bags out of the car and into the house.’ Mary shooed Linda in front of her. ‘Your Uncle Peter’s in the back garden. At least, he was when I left to pick you up. He’ll want to hear all about how you got on in Manchester, Richard.’

‘I’ll park the Hillman round the side of the house and then I’ll bring everything in,’ Richard said. ‘You two go on.’

‘Thanks, love. Be careful with it, you know it’s your dad’s pride and joy.’ Mary waited until the dark green Hillman Minx was safely driven off the road before she led the way around the back of the house. She laughed. ‘Your Uncle Peter would never forgive me if I got so much as a scratch on that car,’ she said. ‘Now, young lady, you can have a good rest while you’re here.’ She’d been shocked by the pallid thinness of her niece. ‘We’ll have a nice cup of tea and you can fill me in with all your news.’ She’d already had a phone-call from Ellen demanding she find out from Linda what was wrong between her and her boyfriend, but she wasn’t going to pry. If Linda wanted to tell her anything at all, it was up to her.

‘Peter,’ she called, ‘look who’s here.’

‘I think we should go in.’ Mary swatted at the midges that hovered around their heads as she and Linda sat on the low wall in the back garden. ‘I can’t stand these things. And it’s dark, anyway.’