That'll Be the Day (2007) (36 page)

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Authors: Freda Lightfoot

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BOOK: That'll Be the Day (2007)
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Many warehouses, including their own had suffered fire damage, and Dulcie remembered Catlows had been full of foodstuffs, the lard melting and running down the street. Jonty had been so brave, so strong, determined that despite great losses they would soldier on.

‘We’ll make do and mend and not let Hitler defeat us,’ was his constant cry. And so they had until they were able to rebuild after the war.

Now her son, her lovely boy, was cut from the same cloth, which was probably why he and his father had constantly rubbed each other up the wrong way. If only he had a wife at his side who understood and supported him as she had his father.

Dulcie had done her best to get along with her daughter-in-law over the years but it hadn’t been easy and she was no nearer to achieving the sort of relationship she would have liked now than she had been on their wedding day. The woman was an enigma. Dulcie was quite certain that Helen had seen Leo as her ticket to respectability and riches, yet for some reason had set out to constantly undermine him, even stand against him. Not good wife material at all.

And now Dulcie needed to tell her son that his wife had betrayed him in the worst possible way.

 

Chapter Thirty-Five

From the first moment Judy entered the witness box and stood before the magistrates she knew she was in for a rough ride. The very first question was whether she felt able to support her children and Judy was obliged to admit that she’d lost her job at the jam factory. She could tell this didn’t go down well and she tried to explain about Sam’s panic over Tom being sick, to put the blame on to him but Sam’s lawyer interrupted with other questions and she barely got the chance.

This led to the inadequacy of accommodation that she could provide for her children and Judy protested. ‘I
have
found a better house and I’m quite sure I’ll find myself a better job. I’m looking hard, and willing to work at anything.’

An interrogation followed about who would care for them if she succeeded. Did Mrs Beckett have a mother perhaps who lived nearby, as Mr Beckett did?

No, Judy admitted, her parents lived abroad but she had friends, and she was sure she could manage. The magistrate frowned at her, clearly unconvinced

‘If only Sam would stop harassing me, I could cope,’ she told them, sounding bitter and angry. His lawyer simply smiled, as if pleased that he’d riled her. Judy knew she was giving a bad impression and strived to calm herself.

‘It will do you no good at all to allow your desperation to show,’ her own solicitor had warned her beforehand. ‘You must at all times be calm and reasonable. This isn’t yet the divorce hearing. All we are doing is applying for a separation order and custody of the children. The magistrates have to be certain that you are a fit mother.’

‘Isn’t it true you could only ever do part time work, because of the need to collect the children from school?’ Sam’s lawyer asked her, and before she’d had a chance to reply, continued, ‘And isn’t it also true that you are sometimes somewhat dilatory in carrying out this duty which led, on one occasion, to your son being bullied and beaten up?’

Judy’s explanation and protests of innocence were met with silent disapproval.

Sam’s lawyer then changed tack. ‘These friends you mention, Mrs Beckett, do they include men?’

Shock struck her momentarily silent. Judy didn’t have the first idea how to answer.

‘Well? It’s a perfectly simply question. Do you have any men among these friends of yours?’

Judy cleared her throat. ‘One or two. Some of them, like Jimmy Ramsay and Alec Hall, work on the market close to my bedsit. They keep an eye out for me.’

‘It wasn’t the stallholders particularly that I was referring to. I was interested more in your personal acquaintances. Isn’t it true that you have a special friendship with . . .’ he consulted his notes . . .’Leo Catlow?’

Who has told him this?
Judy stared across at Sam, unable to believe what she was hearing. How did he know? Had he been following her, watching her from afar? A slow beat of fear started up somewhere deep in her belly. This was all going wrong. ‘I do know Leo Catlow, yes,’ she admitted, in a small voice.

‘Good, I’m glad I’ve managed to jog your memory. And did you accompany Mr Catlow on a trip to the Ribble Valley a few weeks ago? Did he take you, and the children, out for the day?’

‘Yes.’

‘And isn’t this Leo Catlow a married man?’

‘Yes . . . he is.’

‘Did his wife accompany you on this trip, this picnic?’

Judy shook her head.

‘Would you please speak up so that their worships can hear?’

‘No.’

‘Is he your lover?’


No
!’

Sam’s solicitor smirked. ‘We must take your word for that, I suppose. Although the magistrates may found it hard to believe in the innocence of a respectable married woman spending time alone with a man who is not her husband. Do you not think so, Mrs Beckett?’

Misery ate into her soul. ‘I am innocent . . . we are simply friends.’

The solicitor leaned forward, his penetrating gaze cutting into hers. ‘And is he your only man-friend, or are there others?’

‘No, of course there aren’t.’ Judy was appalled by the line of questioning and not at all sure how to deal with it. From the corner of her eye she could see her own solicitor sitting with his head in his hands. It was not a comforting sight. ‘We’re just good friends. Leo wanted to give the children a little treat, that’s all, because this whole situation has been so upsetting for them. It was very generous of him. He was just being kind.’ She stopped speaking, thinking perhaps she’d said too much, and there was a small tight silence in which all eyes seemed to be upon her.

At length, Sam’s solicitor gave a little facial shrug. ‘Most generous, as you say. Nothing but a perfectly innocent outing with another man’s wife, which you unfortunately forgot to mention to your own husband. But we must believe in your innocence, must we not, since you
are
a respectable woman and a good mother to your children?’

‘Yes.’ On stronger ground now, Judy met his quizzical gaze with stout courage, even repeated herself. ‘Yes, I am.’

But by the time Sam himself took the stand her courage had utterly evaporated. Earlier, she’d nursed fond hopes that her own lawyer would pull him to shreds, draw from him a confession of the unreasonable behaviour which had led her to leave him in the first place. No such questions, apparently, were to be asked. The reasons for the separation were of little interest to the magistrates at this stage. Their remit was more directly concerned with the practical, custodial and financial arrangements for the failed marriage, not the causes.

‘Have the household goods been suitably divided between you?’ her solicitor asked. ‘Are you satisfied that you’ve got your share?’

‘I let her have her personal things, the ones she’d brought into the marriage,’ Sam said. ‘Various kitchen stuff that women like, and the children’s things naturally. I’d provided everything else, the furniture was mine and the house is only rented.’

Judy leaned forward and whispered furiously into her solicitor’s ear, ‘
He came and took them all back again.’

He got to his feet, an air of weariness about him. ‘Didn’t you remove some later?’

Sam looked genuinely surprised by the question. ‘My wife can have anything she wants. She knows that. I’ve told her so. I admit that I did make a bit of a fuss at first, but it was only because I didn’t want her to leave. I don’t want this divorce, I want her to come back home and be my wife again.’ Tears filled his eyes and he took out a handkerchief to blow his nose.

‘Quite so, quite so,’ murmured the magistrates.

‘I don’t believe this,’ Judy muttered. ‘Tears from this most controlled, unemotional of men?’ But it was too late. The magistrates politely waited until Sam had himself under control again.

Again her solicitor tried a question, though to what purpose Judy wasn’t sure. ‘Has access been agreed between you, and are you happy that it is working satisfactorily? You are seeing your children regularly, are you not?’

‘There are times when I feel I’m no longer a part of their lives. I get little more than a few hours with my kids as my wife keeps a stop-watch on me. I once let them stay overnight and she made a right fuss. That’s what the argument was all about in front of the factory, the real reason she got sacked. She started it by being difficult over the children, not me.’

Judy gasped. She longed to leap up and say that wasn’t true, that she might already have found herself another job, as a waitress in a café but was still waiting to hear. Except that it wasn’t her turn to speak and she could only sit there in stunned silence while the magistrates stared at her, their faces blank.

Other matters were discussed, the fact that Sam’s mother, whom the children adored, was happy to mind them if necessary. Judy was barely listening. She felt as if her whole life were collapsing around her. Everything had been twisted, the balance of blame between them cleverly shifted.

Next followed a lengthy description of Sam’s financial situation. His solicitor carefully focused the magistrates’ attention on the soundness of his business, Sam’s lack of debts and his respectability in the neighbourhood.

Judy prodded her own solicitor in the back. ‘Ask him how much money he spends on his other women.’

He ignored her and the magistrates withdrew. On their return only moments later Judy knew at once by the tightness of their closed faces that she had lost, even before their judgement was announced.

Temporary custody had been granted to the father as Mr Beckett was clearly in a better position to care for them. Case closed.

 

Chapter Thirty-Six

‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Let me get this right.
You
are accusing
me
of having an affair?’

‘I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m asking a question: is something going on that I should know about?’

Helen’s laugh sounded hollow even to her own ears but somehow she held on to her composure. This was the last thing she’d expected, to be accused of infidelity by a serial womaniser such as her own husband. Hadn’t Leo himself enjoyed a string of mistresses over the years, despite his constant protestations to the contrary?

‘No, nothing is going on that you should know about.’

This was true, in a way, Helen told herself with a secret smile, since Sam had in fact ended their relationship and she hadn’t seen David Barford in an age. She allowed the smile to show, lips curling with delectable sweetness as she lay back upon the pillows. She flung one arm back above her head so that he could enjoy the ripe fullness of her breast beneath the cream silk nightgown. That would surely serve to take Leo’s mind off whatever little interrogation he’d been planning. ‘Who is it exactly I’m supposed to be favouring with my charms?’

Leo was hanging on to his temper with some difficulty. No amount of pouting, smiling or posturing on his wife’s part would convince him of her innocence. His mother had been absolutely certain that she was right and, to his shame, he’d felt a leap of hope as if he’d been shown a way out. Leo hadn’t realised until that moment how very much he longed to escape the misery of this marriage.

But what if Mother was wrong? What if she’d suffered one of her moments of confusion? Well then, if he asked the right questions, he’d find out, wouldn’t he? Stiffening his resolve he said, ‘Sam Beckett.’


Sam Beckett
? You can’t be serious.’ Helen allowed herself the luxury of laughing out loud. It seemed the appropriate thing to do. ‘You think I’d fall for a rough type like
Sam Beckett
?’

Leo didn’t want to even be here having this silly quarrel, but he had to know the truth. ‘I long since gave up trying to understand what kind of man you like, Helen. It certainly isn’t me. You’re quite happy to occupy my bed, but that’s as far as it goes. You’ve never shown the least sign of affection towards me, or the slightest degree of trust. You barely seem to tolerate my presence except on your terms, which usually involves furthering
your
ambitions thinly disguised as being for
my
benefit. You’ve never really taken the time to get to know and understand the kind of man I really am, not in all the years of our marriage.’

‘Heavens, you sound just like your mother,’ Helen sneered, and then sat up suddenly. ‘This all comes from Dulcie, doesn’t it? She’s the one who has planted these nasty suspicions in your head.’

‘I hardly think it matters where I heard the rumours. All you have to tell me is if they are true.’

Helen was no longer listening. Blood boiling she had but one thought in her head: to demolish her mother-in-law. Kneeling on the bed she screamed at Leo. ‘That blasted woman has been out to get her own back on me ever since your father died! She’s a vindictive old bat.’

He put out a hand, palm uppermost, in an attempt to placate her. ‘Helen, calm yourself. I don’t like you using such words about my mother. I know you’re upset but losing control won’t solve anything.’

‘It might stop me from losing you! She knows I never wanted her here, that I valued our privacy, our
marriage
too highly, and she’s been seeking any opportunity to put me in a bad light ever since.’

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