That'll Be the Day (2007) (29 page)

Judy was aware that Ruth was anxious about the changes a divorce would make to her own life. ‘Will I still be able to see my friends?’ she’d asked and Judy had assured her that she would.

‘I can’t deny that it won’t change your life, darling, even after I’ve found us somewhere decent to live. But you’ll still be able to attend the same school, so why wouldn’t you keep the same friends?’ Unless she couldn’t afford a flat or house in this neighbourhood and was forced to move to a cheaper one. Judy tried not to consider such an option.

Now Judy confronted her husband and told him she would pick up Ruth from school as usual and be back later that day to collect her things. Sam looked unshaven and unkempt, as if he hadn’t slept any better than she. Judy pushed aside any feelings of pity for him, along with the last remnants of her love for him. He had brought this situation about by his betrayal and infidelity, and his rigid control of her life. ‘I don’t want the children involved in our quarrel.’

‘Of course they’re involved.’

‘I’ll pick her up at four.’

But when four o’clock came round, it was only Tom who walked across the playground towards her, moving like a boy with his feet planted in treacle.
 

Judy ran to meet him. ‘Where’s Ruth? Where’s your sister?’

He shook his head, his small mouth compressed into a small tight bud of anger and to her horror Judy saw a single tear roll down his pale cheek. She knelt before him, desperately trying to curb the fear that was running through her veins, not wanting to alarm the child.

‘Where is she, Tom? Tell me.’

‘Daddy came for her at play-time. He didn’t want me, only Ruth,’ and the lower lip began to tremble just a little. ‘Ruth says it’s because Daddy loves her best.’

Hot temper brought a red mist before her eyes but just as swiftly as it came, it dissipated. Ruth was only a little girl, being silly and cocky, showing off to her younger brother. She didn’t understand. She said as much to Tom. ‘Ruth doesn’t mean it. She’s angry with me because she’s had to give up her big girl’s bedroom. Of course Daddy loves you, but you’re both going to live with me.’

‘Do we have to choose, Mummy? Can’t we live with both of you?’

There was such a pitiful expression in his pale pinched face, Judy thought her heart might break. Gathering her son in her arms she tried to tell him how she knew it was hard for him right now, but that it would get better in time. ‘Let’s go and get Ruth.’

‘She won’t come. She says Daddy has promised her ice cream for tea every day if she stays with him.’

Bribery, Judy thought. How utterly despicable.

Judy hammered on the door. ‘Open this door, Sam. I know you’re in there.’

The door opened almost at once and Sam stood before her, his expression filled with cold contempt, one hand firmly placed on either side of the doorjamb, blocking her entrance as she struggled to get past him.

‘Let me through. I’ve come to collect Ruth.’

‘She’s chosen to stay with me.’

‘I’m not staging a battle for my own child on my own doorstep. Let me through!’

‘This isn’t your doorstep any longer. You’ll have to fight this for her through the courts.’

‘Stop thinking about yourself for once. This isn’t fair on Tom to split them up. How dare you separate him from his sister on top of everything he’s having to cope with right now. Or sink to bribery to persuade your daughter to stay.
Let me through
!’ Judy slapped at him, pushed hard against the unyielding plain of his chest, and Sam simply laughed at her, holding her back easily with one hand. But it was the closest they’d ever come to a physical fight.

Tom began to cry. ‘Stop it! Stop it! Mummy
stop it
!’ Then he turned on his heels and began to run. He ran right across the street without even looking. Sam and Judy heard the high-pitched squeal of breaks, the scream of tyres and reacted at the same instant.

‘Christ!’ Sam was after him in seconds, Judy hard on his heels. Fortunately the car had managed to stop in time, and Tom was standing frozen with shock just inches from it.

Judy gathered Tom in her arms on a gasp of relief, eyes blazing with fury as she turned to face her husband. ‘This is all
your
fault! Using the children as a weapon against me is the lowest thing you’ve ever done, and you’ve done some pretty low things in your time. Tom nearly got himself killed just now, because you’d taken his sister away from him, as well as his comics and his favourite toys. How could you
do
such a thing?’

It was clear from his expression that Sam was shaken. He reached out a tentative hand to ruffle his son’s hair. ‘I’m sorry, son. I didn’t think.’ Tom was clinging to his mother, sobbing as if his heart would break. Out of nowhere, Ruth appeared at his elbow.

‘Is he going to be all right? I saw it all from my bedroom. It was horrible! I thought he was . . . Oh, I’m so sorry, Mummy. I thought if I went back home, you’d come home as well.’ And Ruth too began to cry.

‘Oh, for God’s sake, I’ll get her things.’

And as Judy knelt on the pavement soothing her distressed children, Sam stormed into the house. Minutes later he was back with two cardboard boxes and Ruth’s weekend bag. ‘OK, there you are, every flaming Beano comic I can find, Ruth’s dressing doll books and Thomas the flaming Tank Engine.’

The children rewarded him with tremulous smiles.

Sam wagged an accusing finger at Judy. ‘But don’t think for one minute that you’ve won. This is only the start. I’ll see you in court.’

Leo was doing his utmost to avoid Judy Beckett. He’d noticed that she was no longer running her little art stall on the farmer’s market, yet somehow she seemed to be everywhere. He only had to cross the street and he would see her, perhaps taking her children to school, or helping her friend Lynda on the flower stall.

Often he’d see her speaking to one of the stallholders. He would see how they would sadly shake their head and it occurred to him that she might be seeking work. Few on this market could afford to employ an assistant. If anyone needed a break during the day they would ask a neighbouring stallholder to watch their pitch, and a day off was out of the question as that would necessitate not putting up the stall.

He was aware that gossip had it Judy had left her husband, yet Leo knew he could do nothing. It would be very dangerous for him to get involved.

He glanced about him now, as if half expecting to spot her, but it was barely seven in the morning with few shoppers around. Despite the early hour the street was a hum of activity, stalls being erected, vans and lorries arriving every five minutes loaded with the everyday sort of flowers and vegetables grown on farms nearby or bringing goods bought at Smithfield, the wholesale market.

‘Morning, Mr Catlow.’

‘Morning Jimmy.’

‘It’s a bonny one, eh?’

‘It certainly is.’

Leo always enjoyed this exchange of pleasantries with his neighbours, loved to linger and watch the activity for a while, and blessed the day his parents bought this house in such a lively spot.

Not that Helen approved, naturally, of their living here amongst it all, and was constantly nagging him to move. Helen considered they lived much too close to the market which she dubbed grimy and smelly. She saw no pleasure in watching the fishmongers gutting fish, plunging a basketful of lobsters into boiling water or dishing out Morecambe shrimps. She found no joy in the colourful array of goods, the way the man selling lino would smack it to draw attention to himself, the clever dexterity of the man juggling plates as he drove down the price of his own china, or even Betty over there, hammering the stems of her roses.

Yet Leo did. Leo loved it.
 

And for the first time in his life he knew that he loved a woman other than his own wife.

As he walked along Hardman Street and turned into Water Street, heading for the warehouse, he still couldn’t get her out of his mind. Should he offer her a job? But even if Judy possessed the skills to work in an office environment, he was nervous of having her in his sight day after day. There was something about her which was so appealing, so fragile and special, and whenever they talked it felt so right, as if she were the missing part of himself, the half he’d been seeking all his life. No matter how much Helen might provoke him, or accuse him of infidelity, he was innocent of that crime. So far.

But he was surely allowed to be concerned about her, and Leo wondered if perhaps he could speak to one or two of his colleagues. Even if it wouldn’t be wise for him to employ her himself, he might be able to help find her a job with someone else. In order to do that effectively, of course, he would need to know much more about her, to discover what skills and qualifications she possessed.

Leo smiled to himself as he crossed the bridge over the River Irwell. Was that an excuse to see her, to speak to her? Perhaps so, but surely he was only being neighbourly, and she was so utterly irresistible.

It was the following day when Leo came home for his dinner that he saw her again. He’d found the house empty, with only a note from Helen saying she’d taken his mother for a drive in the country. This was something of a surprise, as his wife was not known for her thoughtfulness in the care of her mother-in-law. Should he see this as a good sign, a rapprochement between them, or something further to concern him?

He picked at the plate of cold meats Helen had left for him then abandoned it and decided to call in for a pint of beer and a pie at the Dog and Duck. That’s when he spotted her.

Judy was talking to Lynda at the flower stall, smiling as her friend wrapped a potted hydrangea for a customer. Leo’s heart leaped at sight of her. She looked wan and far too thin and it was all he could do not to rush over and gather her in his arms.

Losing his appetite for the pie and pint, he hung around by the market hall entrance, watching like some sort of love-sick schoolboy while the two women finished their conversation. It looked a very serious one, Judy’s face appearing taut and strained. Then they hugged and said their farewells. As she came around the corner, she was clearly startled to bump into him.

Leo put out his hands to steady her. ‘Mrs Beckett, what a surprise! It seems ages since I’ve seen you. How are things?’

‘Okay, thanks.’ She sounded hesitant, which didn’t surprise him in the least.

‘I can’t tell you how sorry I am to hear how badly things have turned out for you. I hope you’ve settled into your new place? Are the children all right?’ He was prattling, overdoing it, sounding like an inane idiot. He took a breath then smiled wryly at her bemused expression. ‘Would you care for a coffee? I promise not to give you the third degree but I would so welcome your company.’

She smiled up at him then, a bewitching, enchanting smile that warmed him right down to his toes in his suede loafers. ‘I’d love to.’

They didn’t go to Belle’s place, far too risky, but to a small coffee bar close by London Road Railway station. They walked there in comparative silence, pretending to be absorbed with the pleasures of seeing the brightly painted barges in the canal basin on this lovely summer’s day, yet Leo knew she was acutely aware of his closeness, as he was of hers. Her perfume was light and flowery, her steps perfectly paced with his own.

With a coffee and doughnut before her Leo asked what had gone wrong. ‘What happened to your wonderful stall? My mother, for one, keeps asking when it’s going to open again. We miss seeing you there.’

Again that smile. ‘Your mother was one of my first customers. I’m grateful for that.’ But then a shadow crossed her face.

‘Tell me about it.’

‘I expected too much, that’s all. I thought I could have a life of my own as well as being a wife and mother. I was wrong. And now I have nothing: no job, no home, no future, and may even lose my children if I can’t provide these things.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m hopeless.’

‘I don’t believe that. I think you’re wonderful.’

She looked at him and gave a tremulous smile that twisted his heart. Perhaps inspired by what she saw in his eyes, Judy began to talk. ‘I’m not a wonderful mum at all,’ deliberately misunderstanding him. ‘I nearly did lose Ruth. She stayed over with her father one Sunday and I thought she might never come home again.’

It was such a relief to let it all pour out. She’d used to find comfort from talking to Lynda, but her friend seemed increasingly distracted with her own concerns these days, and no wonder with Betty in such a state. Judy tried to listen, to understand and be sympathetic, but couldn’t bring herself to burden her friend with yet more problems.

‘Thank God I got her back the next day, not without a bit of a tussle with Sam, mind. But I could so easily have lost her. He’s now threatening to take them from me for good if I don’t get myself sorted out. But how can
I
fight him? I can do nothing! He’s the one with the house, the business and the money.’

‘You can do a great deal, an intelligent, beautiful woman like you.’

She looked up at him, her eyes clouded with pain. ‘That’s the trouble, you see. I no longer believe that I am. I seem to have lost all confidence in myself.’

‘Then somebody needs to put it back,’ Leo gently told her.