The Liverpool Trilogy (82 page)

As he drove away, he looked again at the idyll spread all round him. Even in the dead of winter, the moors were spectacular. Frost lingered to decorate fields and skeletal trees. This was a
Christmas card begging to be photographed. He should have brought the camera to make cards for next year. He could have taken shots of the house she’d be living in soon. If she came back
here, that was. He could not imagine her walking away from Mel at the moment.

Outside her house in Willows Edge, he stopped the car. These cottages were beautifully built, though probably not much bigger than those in Rachel Street. But they were pretty because they were
constructed of stone, had gardens, paths, gates and solid front doors. Yes, this was a long way from slum territory. He had to forget her. He’d scarcely given her a thought throughout the
adventure he had shared with his newly resurrected wife. ‘I’m an animal,’ he said aloud. Sometimes, he felt thoroughly ashamed of himself. This was one of those times.

Mel watched Gloria and her mother leaving their house and heading for the village. After hanging around in the cold for twenty minutes, she was not in the best of moods, and
her teeth were chattering madly. But she had to see Peter, needed to warn him of her mother’s intentions regarding their schools. Dr Bingley was in Bolton with Gran and the boys, so Peter was
finally alone when his mother and sister left to do the shopping. Mel was still walking up the path when he opened the front door. ‘Come in,’ he said. ‘They’ll be back in
about an hour.’ He led her through to the dining room, bent to give her a kiss.

But she pulled away from him without understanding her action. ‘How’s your back?’ she asked. Did she love this boy? Did she?

‘Sore. Too sore for fun. And I can’t live like this, Mel. Gloria in excelsis and I have never had a great deal in common, but hatred’s hard to take, especially at
Christmas.’ He paused and tapped his fingers on the table. ‘We have to teach them all a lesson.’

So she informed him of her mother’s intention to visit the head teachers of Merchants Girls’ and Boys’ schools. ‘You don’t know what my family’s capable of,
Peter. And my mother will do just about anything to keep us apart. She may look all sweetness and light, but she’s powerful. Quiet, yet lethal. I suppose it’s because we’re poor.
If I throw my chance away, it will break her heart. She wants all her children to have the best possible chance in life.’

Peter, too, had news to divulge. His sister had already blackened Mel’s name with just about every girl in their year. ‘She’s been phoning everyone except the school cat.
You’ll be lonely when term starts,’ he said. ‘She’s told everyone we’re doing it, that we were caught doing it by my dad and your stepfather in a house off Scotland
Road. You have no idea how angry she is.’

At one time Mel could not have imagined Gloria in a temper, but she had felt the edge of it very recently, and that edge was honed to perfect sharpness. Isolation, unpleasant though it might be,
did not frighten her. But if anything affected her work, she would surely become distraught. There might be whisperings, even ‘accidental’ collisions in corridors, elbows in her ribs.
‘That’s that, then,’ she said. ‘We have to finish.’

‘No.’

‘There’s no other answer.’

‘Really?’ He outlined the plan. They would collect clothes, money and a little food. A friend in Rainford had been taken by his parents to a ski resort in Switzerland. The family
would not return to their house until the day before school was due to reopen, and there was always a spare key behind the shed in a pot near the raspberry canes. ‘A short ride up the East
Lancashire Road, and we’ll be there.’

‘I can’t do that to my mother, Peter.’

‘Look what she’s willing to do to us,’ was his swift response.

Another valid point fell from Mel’s lips. ‘You’ve got stitches.’

‘Yes, and if they weren’t in my back, I’d snip the buggers out myself. You can do it.’

‘I wouldn’t dare.’

‘Then you don’t love me.’

She heard the petulance, caught a brief glimpse of the child in him, dismissed the thought instantly. She was still capable of being infantile and silly, and he was the same age. ‘I am not
taking your stitches out. Your dad will do it in a few days.’

His jaw dropped slightly. ‘What? You are condemning me to Christmas in this house with Gloria the glorious, with a sulking mother and a father who wishes he could touch you the way I did?
As for you, how will you feel in the company of a mother who’s willing to betray you to top brass? Well?’

‘My mother’s . . . different. She’s dead straight, that’s all. I can do something about the damage your sister’s causing, and my parents will make sure I get a good
Christmas. My mother’s said her piece, and she won’t drone on. Gran’s the droner. My mother’s quiet most of the time.’ And Eileen was happy. It was important to Mel
that her mother was happy. ‘I’m not running away with you. I’m not putting Mam through that pain.’ A feeling akin to relief flooded her veins. She probably didn’t love
him at all.

They argued back and forth for the better part of the allocated hour, at which time he asked her to leave. And she refused.

‘What?’ he almost screamed. ‘They’ll be back.’ Panic invaded his chest. He needed to talk to Mel, needed time away from here so that he could express himself and
his fears to the one person he trusted.

‘Exactly.’

‘And?’

‘And I’m going to be a lawyer.’ She definitely didn’t love him. It was all sex, and sex was a powerful thing. ‘It’s over. You and I are no longer an
item.’

‘What?’

The front door opened. Mel rose gracefully from the table, abandoned her erstwhile boyfriend and walked into the hall. ‘Gloria Bingley,’ she said plainly. ‘I am going to see Dr
Ryan to ask for an internal examination, which will prove me a virgin and you the biggest fair-weather friend since Judas. You have not only betrayed me; you have also told a massive untruth which
is a slander. My name is blackened at school, and I shall see you in court. Or perhaps you would like to settle out of court once I prove my intactness?’ She was glad she’d read that
law book of Miss Morrison’s just out of interest. ‘Ask your father to let the moths out of his wallet and give me my start at Cambridge. And your brother can go to hell. He’s a
spoilt, whining brat. I’d sooner lie down with the rag-and-bone man.’

Gloria burst into tears and ran upstairs. She should have realized that Clever-Clogs Watson would get the better of her, because the girl never lost an argument. In the debating society,
she’d even carried a motion on communism being a good thing for Britain.

Marie stared sadly at Mel. ‘Please, Mel.’

‘Please what, Mrs Bingley? I think it’s time I pleased myself as far as your family’s concerned. You’re married to a dirty old man . . .’ She shouldn’t have
said that. ‘And your son’s a weak, spineless waste of space. Gloria broadcast an enormous lie about me and her brother, so can you blame me for asking my doctor to give me written proof
of my status?’ She would be the barrister, she decided in that moment. There were few females called to the bar, but she would improve that number by one. Arguing was second nature to
her.

‘Mel, you are cruel. Please stop,’ Marie begged again.

But the girl remained in the saddle of a very high horse. ‘Once. Once I allowed him to touch me, because he’s handsome and . . . and desirable. But it was just touching.’ The
back door slammed. ‘There he goes. Your little boy has left the house, Mrs Bingley. Perhaps he needs a playpen.’

Marie placed her shopping on the floor. ‘Slander works both ways, you know. Would you like it if Tom took you to court for describing him as a dirty old man?’

Mel tutted. ‘Prove I said it.’

‘There were ear-witnesses.’

Mel shook her head. ‘Family. My witnesses are a couple of dozen girls who have been informed by your daughter that I am misbehaving with your son. No contest. And, being a family doctor,
your husband has to remain squeaky clean. Remember the no smoke without fire saying?’

A few seconds of deadlock followed. ‘Wait here, then.’ Marie turned on her heel and walked into the office. Alone in the hall, Mel could hear Gloria sobbing in her room.
I
didn’t know myself till now. When it comes to making stuff happen, I am in my element. Parliament? High Court? Certainly not Mrs Peter Bingley, that’s for sure.

Marie returned with a cheque and pushed it into Mel’s hand.

‘Ah. Thirty pieces of silver.’ Without looking at the scrap of paper, Mel tore it into tiny flakes that floated like snow down to the parquet floor.

‘That was three hundred pounds!’ Marie gasped. ‘You asked for money.’

‘Three hundred pieces of silver, then. I’m not purchasable, even at that price.’

‘But you said—’

‘I say a lot of things, Mrs Bingley. Now, I am off to see my doctor. You will tell her upstairs to telephone all those she has misinformed. Let her say it was a dare or something of that
nature. As for your son – well, I can only wish you the best of luck. If he comes anywhere near me, have your sutures ready.’ She walked out of the house.

Her legs didn’t match any more. Stumbling like a recovering alcoholic who was having a slight relapse, Mel staggered to the end of the road. She had to make a better job of this walking
business, because he would be waiting round the corner. Yes, there he was. Peter Bingley was beautiful. He was the sort of creature who might have given Michelangelo’s David a run for his
money. Not that statues could run, of course. Why was she having daft thoughts at a time like this when her reputation was in tatters?

She stopped and stared at him. He was across the road, frozen like a rabbit caught in headlights. ‘Stay away from me, Bingley,’ she roared at the top of her voice. Curtains
fluttered. Two old ladies on opposite sides of the road ambled to their gates, shawls clutched as protection against the bitter cold. ‘Go home,’ Mel shrieked. ‘Go home to your
disgusting sister.’ He ran, and she found herself smiling.

But when she reached her own lodgings, Mel was no longer proud of herself. Gloria was a friend of long standing. She was upset because Mel had not confided in her about Peter, and although her
behaviour had been bad, she was probably deeply hurt. It must all be put right. But first, there was an appointment with Dr Ryan.

Tom brought in the food from Home Farm. He made two trips from car to house, because a couple of chickens and all the vegetables took some shifting. ‘Nearly as big as
turkeys, those things,’ he said. ‘Where’s Keith? Where’s Mel? And how’s your Miss Morrison?’

‘As excited as a child because she won’t be alone at Christmas. She’s a love. We sit and talk to her every day, but she tires.’ Eileen gave him a cup of tea and a bit of
date and walnut cake. ‘To answer your question, Keith’s gone to buy me a collar and lead. That’s what he said, anyway, but really he’ll be looking for my Christmas present.
And Mel’s gone to see Dr Ryan to prove she’s a virgin.’

‘What?’ He almost choked. Cakes seemed dry these days, probably due to all the rationing. How lucky were the people who lived out of town . . . ‘To prove she’s a
virgin?’

Eileen bit her lip. But it all had to be said. ‘Gloria has been busy on the phone. She’s told the whole class that Mel and Peter have had full sex. It was a nasty lie to tell,
Tom.’

‘What?’ He leapt to his feet. Gloria was a sweet girl who wouldn’t damage a fly. He couldn’t believe his ears. ‘Gloria? My Gloria?’

Eileen nodded. ‘Yes, the very same. Sit down and hear me out, Tom. You know I have a temper?’

‘Of course.’ He sat. ‘I explained away the evidence of your most recent assault as something that happened during the retrieval of our children. A falling brick if I remember
correctly.’

‘Well, my daughter has a temper, too. She’s gone through your household today like a hot knife cutting butter. Peter is damned to hell, while Marie took the full blast, including the
information that my headstrong girl thinks of you as a dirty old man. She regrets saying that, though she has told me on at least one occasion that you look at her in a certain way.’

‘She reminds me of someone.’

‘Yes.’ There would be no nonsense. If she glimpsed the fringe of trouble, he would be out of this house in a trice. ‘My daughter will be derided at school because of Gloria. So
Mel made a scene, demanded compensation, bullied your wife into writing a cheque. Madam tore it up and stormed out. She then made another un-pretty scene outside. It involved Peter and she has
ended her relationship with him.’

Tom remembered life pre-Eileen. It had been boring, but peaceful. ‘Three generations of angry women; there’s your mother, then you, then Mel. She got more than your beauty. I’m
convinced that the brain came from your mother, via you.’

She told him the rest of it. At first Mel wanted to get a solicitor and apply for permission to print in the Crosby newspaper a statement saying that the gossip was malicious and untrue. But a
calmer period had ensued, and Mel was missing Gloria already. ‘So I don’t know what to do,’ Eileen concluded. ‘You know what they’re like at this age – up one
minute, down the next.’

Gloria hadn’t been like that, but he didn’t say anything. His daughter had been good, perhaps too good. Of the two, Peter was the more unpredictable, and Tom had wondered of late
about the boy’s true nature. He was a better than average sportsman and a successful scholar, but there was a gentleness that went a little too far for Tom’s comfort. He dismissed the
idea yet again from his mind. Some heterosexuals were gentle, some homosexuals vicious. And some doctors were confused, because Peter had proved his sexuality by messing about with Mel.

‘Tom?’

‘What?’

‘He has to stay away from her.’

The visitor sipped his cooling tea. ‘How far did they go?’

‘About as far as you and I did on one unfortunate occasion.’

He smiled.

‘What’s funny?’ she asked.

‘Nothing.’ He could not tell her that the smile was a demonstration of relief about Peter. ‘I suppose we all react differently when we realize that our children are almost
adult. One minute it’s a high chair and Farley’s rusks, and the next they’re experimenting with the opposite sex.’