Moving On (10 page)

Jenny felt worried. Karen had been sleeping on the sofa for three weeks now and she seemed to have done nothing at all about making any plans for her future.

She’d not even applied for any jobs. Most evenings Jenny had tried to encourage her by reading out two or three from the Liverpool paper that she thought might interest Karen, but she didn’t even comment on them.

During the day she would wander off into the community lounge and, whenever Jenny went in to see if she wanted to go for a walk or go shopping, she always found her sitting with Lionel Bostock. They were usually deep in conversation and Jenny wondered what they found to discuss.

Lionel Bostock might be very fit and alert for his eighty-three years but surely he had nothing in common with a young woman in her early twenties.

Jenny knew that their closeness had been noticed by several of the other residents. She’d overheard a number of sly comments; waspish words that she hadn’t liked and had tried to ignore but nevertheless that had worried her.

Jane Phillips had been very outspoken in her comments. She had made it quite obvious from the very first time she had encountered Karen that she didn’t approve of her lifestyle and her association with Hadyn Trimm. Now she was making it equally clear that she shouldn’t be living at Merseyside Mansions. ‘This place is for people of fifty-five and over, and your granddaughter, Mrs Langton, is certainly not in that category,’ she stated in a censorious voice at the Wednesday coffee morning.

‘I own my apartment and I can offer hospitality to whomever I wish,’ Jenny defended.

‘You have only one bedroom so where is your granddaughter sleeping?’

‘That is entirely our business,’ Jenny told her in a quiet but firm voice.

‘We do have a management committee you know,’ Jane retaliated, ‘and I shall be bringing the matter up at our next meeting. An overnight stay is one thing but she has been here for several weeks now and there doesn’t seem to be any sign of her leaving.’

‘Leaving? Who’s leaving?’ Major Mitchell asked. He inserted his monocle into one eye and stared round the room, letting his gaze come to rest on Karen. ‘Not you, young lady, I hope? Ray of sunshine in this drab place, what!’ he commented jovially, looking round at the sea of faces for agreement.

‘We don’t approve of permanent lodgers,’ Jane Phillips told him.

‘Lodger? Who is a lodger? The young lady in question is Mrs Langton’s guest and I can’t see anything wrong in that,’ Tom Fieldman intervened.

‘We tolerate guests but we don’t expect them to stay for weeks at a time,’ Jane Phillips stated testily. ‘Especially since it is only a one-bedroom flat. Exactly where is this so-called guest sleeping; that is what I want to know?’

‘I don’t really see that it is any concern of ours,’ Mavis Grey said mildly.

‘It most certainly is,’ Jane said heatedly and in such a commanding voice that everyone in the room stopped talking to listen to what was being said.

‘We have standards to maintain and if you let one person get away with this sort of thing then the next thing you know is that some people will be taking in paying guests during the holiday season.’

‘If it’s a bed you’re short of then I can offer one,’ Lionel Bostock blustered.

‘Yes, and it would be yours I imagine,’ Dan Grey said with a boisterous laugh.

Several similar quips from other residents quickly followed Dan’s rather ribald remark.

‘Perhaps the ladies should be buying new hats in readiness for the next wedding,’ old Mr Packard chuckled.

‘No, no, you’ve all got the wrong end of the stick,’ Lionel Bostock blustered. ‘I have a second bedroom and that is only used when my son Edwin stays the night and that is a very rare occasion indeed. No, the room is there and if Mrs Langton’s granddaughter would like to avail herself of it then she is most welcome to do so.’

‘That is most kind of you,’ Jenny said, smiling. ‘There is really no need for anyone to be concerned. Our sleeping arrangements are fine and Karen most certainly isn’t a lodger. She’s merely staying with me for a few weeks’ holiday, isn’t that right, dear?’ she said, turning to Karen, who had remained silent, sipping her coffee and listening with a half-smile on her face.

Later, when the coffee break was over and most of the residents had dispersed, Karen went over to Lionel, who was still sitting in one of the armchairs, and touched him on the arm.

‘That was very sweet of you to offer me the use of your spare room,’ she said with a smile.

‘Not at all, and the room is there if you wish to use it.’ He fumbled in an inside pocket of his tweed jacket, brought out a Yale key and pressed it into her hand. ‘Here, this is the spare key to my flat. I want you to feel free to use the room whenever you like,’ he urged as he folded her fingers around the key and patted her hand.

Jenny felt a mixture of annoyance and unease as she tried to catch Karen’s eye to warn her not to take the key. When she failed to do so she looked quickly round the room to see who else had noticed what had happened and was dismayed to find that Lorna Hill was taking it all in and that she had a knowing smile on her face.

Jenny knew very little about Lorna but had heard that she was a gossip of the worst sort. She was one who listened and said nothing but then repeated what she had heard with added embellishments that often led to trouble.

As soon as Lorna left the room, Jenny told Karen that she shouldn’t have accepted Lionel’s offer. ‘You should have refused to take the key,’ she admonished, ‘especially when you knew that Lorna Hill was listening to everything that was being said.’

‘Give the old bat something to think about,’ Karen said with a smile. ‘Don’t worry, Gran, they’re going to talk anyway, even if I had refused, and after all it could come in useful if you suddenly decide you’ve had enough of my company and want me out.’

‘That’s hardly likely to happen, my dear, as you very well know. Mind you,’ Jenny added cautiously, ‘I suppose you will want to get a place of your own soon.’

‘All in good time,’ Karen told her. ‘I’m still planning what to do next.’

‘First thing is to try to find a job.’

‘No, I think for the moment it is better to lie low until I hear what happened to Hadyn Trimm. The police still suspect him of handling drugs and if they take him to court he may spill the beans completely and involve me in his illicit dealings.’

‘Gracious, I hope not,’ Jenny said, concern etched on her face.

Karen shrugged. ‘Knowing him as well as I do I wouldn’t count on him not doing so if he thinks that by admitting who his accomplices were he might get a lighter sentence.’

Jenny was extremely worried although Karen didn’t appear to be overly concerned by what the prospects might be. Every time the phone or the doorbell rang, Jenny jumped guiltily and then hesitated before answering either of them.

When a couple of weeks later they read in the newspaper that Hadyn Trimm had been arrested they followed the details avidly. Over the next few weeks, since no one had come to question Karen, and her name had not been mentioned, Jenny finally relaxed.

She felt drained. Having Karen living with her under such circumstances and in such cramped conditions was making her edgy. Now, with Hadyn Trimm safely locked away awaiting trial, she felt it was time for Karen to find herself a job.

As the days passed and Karen seemed to be making no attempt to do so, Jenny had the uneasy feeling that she was prepared to sleep on the sofa in her living room for the rest of time.

She’d thought that by now Karen would have grown tired of geriatric company, yet she seemed quite content to mix in the communal lounge every day and chat to Lionel Bostock and any other elderly people who happened to be in there.

They all seemed to think she was delightful because she listened to their catalogue of illnesses, treatments and litany of pills so sincerely. She even offered helpful advice whenever she could or willingly popped to the shops or the post office for them to ‘save their tired old legs’.

‘You are so lucky having your granddaughter living with you,’ they told Jenny. ‘She’s such a sweet girl and must be such a great help to you.’

Jenny smiled and kept her thoughts to herself.

Having Karen there as a permanent lodger was proving very expensive. Karen seemed to be oblivious of the fact that she wasn’t making any contribution at all towards paying for all their food or any of the other bills.

Tentatively Jenny broached the subject about her plans for the future and to her surprise Karen agreed with her.

‘Yes, I think it is time for me to get back out into the real world. It’s been wonderful staying here with you, Gran, but it is very cramped and I certainly do need to earn some money.’

‘I shall miss having you, of course, Karen, but you know you can always come back if things don’t work out.’

They smiled at each other as if in full agreement; each of them waiting for the other to say more.

‘You’ve finally made some plans for the future then?’ Jenny pressed.

‘Yes! Give me a few more days and then you can have your flat to yourself again,’ Karen said with a dismissive smile.

Jenny waited for her to go into details but when she didn’t she gave a mental shrug and decided not to pry. She was sure Karen would tell her when she was ready to do so.

It came as something of a shock to Jenny the following morning when she found that the duvet and the pillow that Karen used each night for her bed on the sofa were neatly stacked and there was no sign of her at all.

As she made a pot of tea and poured milk over her cereal she wondered why Karen had gone out so early. She hadn’t said the night before that she was going out somewhere special. Then, come to think of it she hadn’t mentioned very much at all lately, Jenny thought resignedly.

For some reason Karen had become very secretive, Jenny mused as she washed up and put away her breakfast dishes. She’d said that she was making plans for the future but she certainly hadn’t confided what they were.

As she tidied the living room, picking up the evening newspaper to put it in the waste bin, she found a note lying on top of it.

I’m off to start a new life, Gran. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be in touch.

Karen xx

Jenny read it though over and over again. What on earth did it mean? What sort of new life. Why hadn’t she given her any details? She couldn’t have gone back to Hadyn Trimm because he was in prison, so where had she gone?

A myriad of questions went round and round in Jenny’s head. She made herself a cup of tea and tried to reason out what had happened to Karen. It was no good, she couldn’t think of an answer. She put on her hat and coat and went for a long walk along the promenade hoping that the fresh air would clear her mind.

There were two liners lying at anchor on the other side of the Mersey, and Jenny wondered if Karen had gone back to her old job and was on one of them.

When she returned to the flat she tried to fathom out exactly what Karen had taken with her, hoping that might help to shed some light on her absence. She spent the rest of the day in a haze, going back over their conversations of the past few days, searching for any clues in what they had discussed, but it was useless.

Finally, she accepted that her granddaughter had gone and that she could do nothing until Karen got in touch with her.

She still felt piqued by the fact that Karen hadn’t said what she was planning to do. She had obviously fixed up something because the past week or so she had gone around with a secret little smile on her face. Jenny felt she was being childish.

Over the next few days Jenny delighted in having her flat to herself. She opened all the windows wide to let in fresh air and whatever sunshine there was. She turned out the living room from top to bottom, getting rid of all traces of Karen living there. Any items that Karen had left behind she stored away carefully in a cardboard box. She would give them to her the next time she saw her, although when that would be she had no idea.

Anyway, Jenny told herself, she wasn’t going to let that worry her, she was far too happy. Now, on her own, she could live life to her own timetable; get up when she wished, eat when she wanted to and indulge in the foods she enjoyed rather than have to pander to Karen’s tastes. It was sheer bliss.

Jenny was so content with her own company that she didn’t even attend coffee morning that Wednesday. She was far too busy enjoying her feeling of freedom. Instead she went for a long walk along the promenade, watching the busy life on the Mersey. She walked as far as Warren Point and regarded her old home with nostalgia. On the return walk she even stopped and bought an ice cream from a roadside kiosk and sauntered along eating it.

She felt so cocooned in her own happiness that she didn’t even stop to talk to the other residents when she met them in passing. She thought they gave her a funny look but she was too immersed in herself to let it bother her. They probably thought she was being snooty; or else if they had heard that Karen had gone thought that she was upset about it and wanted to be on her own.

The following Wednesday morning when she went along for coffee there was a momentary pause in the general chatter when she walked into the room. All eyes turned to look at her, followed by curious stares and whispered talk.

Jenny walked over to a vacant chair in one of the large circular groups. As she sat down she was aware of the tension all around her; it felt like the electrically charged air before a thunderstorm.

There was an uncanny silence as she accepted her cup of coffee from the concierge and chose a shortbread biscuit from the plate on the table in front of her.

When she looked up Jenny found that Richard and Lorna Hill were sitting directly opposite her and that Lorna had an expectant look on her lined face as if hoping to hear some interesting news.

Jenny groaned inwardly, remembering what an avid gossip Lorna was, but knew it was too late to do anything about it and hoped the woman wasn’t going to start asking awkward questions about Karen.

Before Lorna could speak, Jane Phillips walked across the room from another group and stood beside Lorna. She was wearing a dark grey pinstripe skirt and a black sweater that made her look like a Gestapo interrogator as she stood there with arms akimbo.

‘So are you going to tell us all exactly what has happened?’ she demanded in a domineering voice.

‘What has happened?’ Jenny looked at her blankly. ‘I don’t understand what you mean. About what?’

‘About your granddaughter, of course,’ Jane said pointedly.

There was a sharp intake of breath from those nearby, uneasy coughs from one or two of the men and a trembling high-pitched laugh from Lorna.

‘Well?’ Jane looked smug. ‘Go on then.’

‘Perhaps Mrs Langton doesn’t wish to talk about it,’ the concierge intervened.

‘I bet she doesn’t,’ Jane Phillips murmured. ‘She’s certainly kept herself hidden away ever since it happened. She’s probably hoping that by now we will have lost interest.’

‘My granddaughter is no longer living with me because she has a new job. Not that it is any business of yours,’ Jenny said stiffly.

As Jenny stopped speaking a titter broke out and rippled round the room. She felt uneasy; unable to understand what she had said that gave rise to mirth.

‘Is that what you call it,’ Jane said in a ribald voice that brought even more titters.

Jenny looked at her questioningly, shaking her head in bewilderment.

‘By Jove! You really don’t know what they’re talking about,’ Major Mitchell guffawed. ‘Either that or you’re a damn good actress, what!’

Jenny picked up her cup of coffee and took a sip, then put it down again on the table because her hand was shaking so much that she was afraid she was going to spill it.

‘No, I don’t know what you are talking about,’ she agreed. ‘My granddaughter left here the weekend before last and I have been busy ever since so I have obviously missed something that has been going on.’

‘It’s your granddaughter we are talking about,’ Jane told her. ‘Your granddaughter and Lionel Bostock.’

‘What about them?’

There was an uneasy silence, then several people spoke at once all eager to tell her the news.

‘She’s gone off on a cruise with him. Not sure if it’s down to the Mediterranean or across to the West Indies.’

‘They left the Saturday morning before last in a taxi. I saw them with my own eyes,’ Beryl Willis confirmed with relish.

‘He always books a double cabin when he goes on his annual cruise in the hopes that he might get lucky.’

‘Seems that this time he got lucky before he even left Liverpool,’ someone guffawed.

‘His son Edwin told me that they’re off for a month in the sun,’ Mavis Grey piped up, her small dark eyes almost popping out of her round podgy face with excitement. ‘When I told my Dan he could hardly believe it.’

Jenny felt stunned. ‘Neither can I. Are you sure you have your facts right?’ she protested.

She spoke in a quiet, controlled voice but inside she was churning as she listened to the babble of talk going on all around her. Lionel Bostock was an old man of eighty-three and her granddaughter was only in her twenties. She felt sick. She couldn’t believe Karen had done anything so foolish as to go off on holiday with Lionel Bostock.

Jenny looked round the room at the elderly ladies in their twinsets and pearls, the men in tweed jackets and flannels or dark trousers, all of them so prim and proper, all of them delighting in this scrap of juicy scandal.

Surely it was idle gossip. Karen had happened to leave Merseyside Mansions at the same time as Lionel Bostock had, she told herself. He had probably offered her a lift in his taxi, nothing more irregular than that.

Jenny felt indignant that they should think Karen had gone on a cruise with him. If only Karen had been more open with her and told her what her new job was, and where it was, or even where she would be living then she would have been able to scotch these foolish rumours right away.

She wanted to get up and run from the community room and seek solace in her own flat but her legs felt so shaky that she wasn’t sure she could do it.

She needed to have time to calm down and get her thoughts in order. Time on her own to go back over every conversation she’d had with Karen before she’d left to see if there had been anything that confirmed what these people were saying.