Homecoming (6 page)

‘I haven't,' she snapped defensively, and not entirely truthfully.

‘So what's it to be?'

‘I need to talk to my mother.'

‘Fair enough.' He finished his coffee and set his cup on the tray. ‘You'll be seeing her tomorrow night at Helen and Jack's. I'll give you until then.'

‘That's not enough time.'

‘It will have to be, because that's all I'm going to give you.'

‘You're not going!' she cried out in surprise, as he stubbed out his cigarette and went to the door.

‘I am. Think about what I said, Judy.'

‘You'll pick me up tomorrow, for Jack and Helen's party?' she asked apprehensively.

‘I'll be here. Seven o'clock, isn't it?'

‘Yes.'

‘And I'll have my answer as soon as you've spoken to your mother.' Without waiting for her reply, he shrugged on his coat and kissed her cheek. ‘Don't bother to come down, I'll see myself out.'

John switched off the television as the evening news ended. ‘Would you like cocoa, love?'

‘No, thank you.' Katie patted her swollen stomach. ‘I'll be glad when this one's born. He's not leaving much room, even for a cup of cocoa.'

‘Is he kicking?'

‘All the time.'

‘If you are in pain …'

‘I am not in pain and I promise you, he won't be born tonight.' She set the bootie she'd been knitting aside. ‘I am quite happy on my own, John, you don't have to stay in every evening with me.'

‘I know.'

‘Then why don't you go down the pub occasionally? Before we married you used to meet Roy Williams in the White Rose a couple of nights a week. He must think I'm locking you up.'

‘He doesn't think anything of the kind because, like me, he's discovered the pleasures of staying home at night.' He rested his hand lightly on her smock. ‘Don't tell me that didn't hurt.' He gave her an uneasy look as he felt the baby move inside her.

‘It didn't, honestly. It's a peculiar feeling, I can't explain it other than to say it's good to know he's well enough to move about.'

‘You look tired. If you don't want any cocoa, at least let me help you to bed.'

‘Please, John, don't wrap me in cotton wool.'

‘We'll have a late night tomorrow,' he reminded. ‘I can't see you leaving Jack and Helen's much before midnight.'

‘As usual, you're right, and I want to get up early to buy flowers for Helen and something for Jack. Can you think of anything?' She struggled to her feet.

‘Let me get the flowers and I'll buy some beer for Jack. Seeing as it's a party I could have a crate or two delivered to their house.'

‘You can buy the beer but I want to choose the flowers myself.'

‘Stubborn creature.'

‘Do you think Jack still drinks beer?' She opened the door.

‘Judging by the weight he's put on, I'd say almost definitely.' He walked slowly up the stairs behind her, smiling when she opened the door of the first bedroom she came to, instead of walking on to the master bedroom.

The room was papered in a pretty primrose paper patterned with cartoons of nursery rhymes and fairytale characters. A plain white wood cot stood along the back wall, carefully screened from draughts and the direct heat of the radiator he'd recently had installed as part of a central heating system. A chest of drawers and wardrobe that matched the cot were ranged along the opposite wall and the single bed set in front of the window held a changing mat and plastic bath filled with tins of baby cream and talcum powder. Walking to the chest of drawers, Katie opened it and looked down on the hand-knitted layette she'd spent the last few months making.

‘If there's anything else I can do in here, love, you only have to ask.'

‘There's nothing. It's perfect.' She closed the drawer and drew the primrose cotton curtains she'd made, before sitting in the rocking chair he'd bought her the day she'd discovered she was having their child.

‘Nothing you want to add to your case for the nursing home, or the baby's?' He looked at the two cases that stood at the foot of the bed.

‘No.'

He stood behind the chair; wrapping his arms around her, he kissed the back of her neck. ‘Then all we want is for him to put in an appearance.'

‘The sooner the better,' she agreed.

‘You afraid?'

‘No,' she lied stoutly. Realising she'd spoken too quickly, she added, ‘It's the most natural thing in the world for a woman.'

‘I wish I could do more to help.'

She smiled and patted her swollen body. ‘I think you've done your share, John.'

‘Remember me?' Jack hugged Helen as he cradled her in the bed next to him.

‘Now I do.' Turning on her stomach, she looked into his eyes. ‘You hungry?'

‘Starving, I could eat a horse.'

‘I have no horses, only beef steaks.'

‘Then they will have to do.'

‘Bags I bathroom first.' Flinging back the bedclothes, Helen grabbed her dressing gown and ran naked into the bathroom.

‘It didn't take you long to lose your shyness,' he laughed.

‘You always were a bad influence on me,' she shouted back.

Folding his arms under his head, he lay back feeling happy and just a bit smug. Martin was right, they were both lucky. Beautiful wives, ready-made homes, life couldn't get any better.

‘Lazy bones.' Helen walked back in wearing a red silk dressing gown.

‘You look wonderful and,' he sniffed the air, ‘smell exactly as a scarlet woman should. New perfume?'

‘Like the underclothes, I bought it for my husband.' She picked up the sack dress from the floor, folded it on to a chair and lifted another from her wardrobe.

‘You're not going to dress?' he objected.

‘I can't walk around the house in a dressing gown at this time in the evening.'

‘Why not?'

‘Someone could call.'

‘If anyone dared, I'd send them away.'

She hesitated, then unable to think of a single reason why she should dress, hung the frock back in the wardrobe.

‘I'll go down and get my bags from the hall.'

‘The curtains aren't closed,' she warned.

‘I'll give the neighbours a thrill.'

‘Jack …'

‘Don't worry, not too much of a thrill.' Picking up the bath towel he'd draped on the window seat, he tied it around his waist. ‘Go cook, woman. If I like the result I may give you a reward.'

‘I thought you just had.'

‘You don't want another one?' he teased, chasing her down the stairs.

*……*……*

‘You can be extraordinarily stupid at times,' Angela Watkin Morgan railed at her brother.

‘Come on, Angie,' Robin cajoled. ‘It's the sort of thing that could happen to anyone.'

‘No, it's damned well not. And don't try exercising your charm on me, I'm your sister, not one of your tarts. If you'd listened to Pops and dropped Emily when he told you to months ago, she wouldn't be pregnant and you wouldn't be in this mess.' She went to the drinks tray set on a table in the corner of the billiards room and poured herself a small brandy.

‘I should have known better than to hope for sympathy from you.' Robin filled a glass with whisky and downed it in one.

‘You should have,' she agreed caustically. ‘No one knows Ems better than me and there was a time when I was fond of her, but after what happened with her father I had no choice other than to drop her. You should never have carried on with your engagement.'

‘I was waiting for the right time to break it off.'

‘Any fool could have told you that was the day her father went to prison.'

‘I would have looked a right bastard if I'd dumped her just as her family had lost everything.' He'd given the explanation as to why he'd carried on with his engagement in the face of scandal so often, he was almost beginning to believe it.

‘More like you were afraid that you wouldn't find another girl to do the things Emily does for you.' She looked him coolly in the eye as his face darkened. ‘Surprised I know about your weirder habits? I don't know what Ems is like now, but she used to talk too much, especially after a couple of drinks. And she wasn't so stupid that she didn't realise that some of the things you asked her to do were bizarre. So, you carried on in your own selfish way, never once giving a thought as to how the gossip about the two of you would affect Pops and Mums.'

‘Not to mention you and Julian Pickering Jones,' he broke in acidly. ‘Your darling boyfriend never shuts up about the money his family entrusted to Ems's father and lost.'

‘It was more than fifteen thousand pounds.'

‘And I've heard about it every day for the last year.' Reaching for the whisky, he replenished his glass.

‘Forget Julian, me, Pops and Mums, and think about yourself. Have you any idea what people will say about you once this gets out?'

‘I'm not the first boy to get his girlfriend pregnant,' he muttered defensively.

‘It wouldn't matter if she was from an acceptable family. You knew everyone was cutting the Murton Davieses. If Emily and Larry had one ounce of sense they would have gone to Bournemouth with their mother and the others. I don't know of a single girl who'll go near Lewis Lewis's or that tailor's in case either of them is serving. It would be so humiliating.'

‘For Ems and Larry, or your socially acceptable friends?' Robin enquired cuttingly.

‘Everyone concerned. I just don't understand why you can't see it.' She sipped her brandy. ‘What are you going to do?'

‘I haven't a clue.' Robin finished his second shot of whisky and refilled his glass.

‘Getting drunk won't help.'

His hand shook as the full impact of his predicament hit him. ‘I know,' he mumbled miserably.

‘For all our sakes, Robin, break off your engagement tomorrow.'

‘How can I when she's having my kid?'

‘You can't be thinking of marrying her?' She was aghast at the idea.

‘What else can I do, Angie? We've been engaged for over a year.'

‘Marry Ems and you'll be finished at the BBC,' she predicted callously. ‘A good social life is essential these days and you'll never have that with her. As it is Pops, Mums and I have been hard-pressed to persuade people to invite you to some of the more vital functions this year because of your engagement. Turn that into marriage and you'll become a pariah like her.'

Robin's hand shook as he finished his third shot. ‘Do you think she really is up the duff?'

‘You'd be better placed to answer that than me. I haven't seen Ems in ten, eleven months. Not since she moved from Caswell.'

Setting down his glass, Robin lifted a cue from the rack behind him and sent the billiard balls scattering over the table. ‘But girls do sometimes lie about being pregnant to get a chap to marry them.'

‘If they're desperate about the boy,' Angela conceded.

‘Exactly, and Ems is desperate,' Robin gushed, wanting to believe she'd lied to him. ‘She hates having to work and living in that poky flat in Mumbles after the house in Caswell.'

‘On the other hand, you two were always at it like rabbits. And Ems was always complaining how careless you were.'

Knowing it was more likely that Emily was pregnant than not, Robin reached for the whisky bottle again. ‘Even if I don't marry her, she hasn't a bean so I'll have to keep her and the kid. And after all the money Pops has laid out on me lately, he'll go ballistic.'

‘Has Ems threatened to take you to court for maintenance?'

Robin stood back and studied the table. ‘No, I told you, she expects me to marry her. I don't suppose you know anyone who can help?'

‘Like who?' she questioned suspiciously.

‘Like one of those women you read about in the papers. The kind girls visit when they have a problem,' he suggested coyly.

‘The same kind who hit the headlines when they kill a girl.' She shook her head. ‘You really should have been more careful. But then that was never easy with Ems. When she came around with us she was always stripping off at the drop of a hat.' Taking the whisky bottle from him just as he was about to fill his glass for the fourth time, she stared at him thoughtfully.

‘Why are you looking at me like that?' he snapped.

‘Can you be one hundred per cent certain that this baby is yours?'

‘You said it yourself, everyone's dropped Ems; she hasn't seen anyone else in months.' He snatched the bottle back.

‘Mums and Pops are away this weekend.'

‘That's why I invited Ems to lunch on Sunday. She was moaning that I never bring her here any more.'

‘Not lunch, Robin. A party, we'll round up some people and invite her to stay over tomorrow night.'

‘None of the girls will come if they know Ems will be here.'

‘But the boys will.' She refilled her glass.

‘I can't see how that will help.'

She thought rapidly. She had an idea, but she knew Robin wouldn't like it and it might not work. But if it did … ‘First things first, Robin, you need to find out if she is pregnant.'

‘And how do you propose I do that? Ask Pops to stay so he can examine her?'

‘Of course not. I'll talk to her.'

‘And you think she'll tell you after you've cut her for almost a year?' he sneered.

‘We were close. And, as I said, she could never keep a secret once she'd had a couple of drinks. But we'd better make it look like a real party. Invite the old crowd, that boy with red hair …'

‘Thompson.'

‘That's the one.' The only thing Angie could recall about Thompson was that he'd had the most enormous crush on Emily.