Mother’s Ruin (16 page)

Sally put his attitude down to tiredness and found she had to scrub the plates extra hard to remove the stuck on residue of gravy. At last it was done and when she went through to the bedroom, she saw that Arthur was already asleep. If he was going to the site with Joe tomorrow it meant an early start, so careful not to wake him she climbed in, again resisting the urge to snuggle close.

It was another night without the warmth of Arthur’s arms around her, and feeling a twinge of disappointment, Sally chided herself. Arthur had only just come out of hospital, and he probably still needed time to recover. She would just have to be patient, that was all.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Though late, Joe had accepted Patsy’s invitation for coffee and was upstairs in her flat.

‘Just in case you’re wondering, it’s only coffee I’m offering,’ Patsy said as she carried in two cups.

‘That’s fine with me.’

She sat down beside him, her skirt riding up and Joe couldn’t help admiring her shapely legs. He dragged his eyes away and looked around the room, not really liking the garish décor. His eyes then settled on a photograph of a little girl that was displayed on the sideboard. ‘Nice-looking kid – is she a relative?’

‘Yes,’ Patsy said shortly, offering no further explanation.

Joe felt he had said the wrong thing, but then Patsy blurted, ‘I’m a divorcée.’

‘Are you?’ he said, surprised. Patsy looked so young, too young to have been married and divorced.

‘I was only seventeen when I married and soon found it was a dreadful mistake.’

‘What went wrong?’

‘I’d rather not talk about it.’

Joe shifted uncomfortably. They’d been fine in Arthur and Sally’s company, but now the atmosphere was tense. Perhaps Patsy was worried that he’d try it on. Hoping to alleviate her fears he moved along the sofa, putting a little distance between them.

Patsy was the one to look surprised now and leaning forward she placed her cup on the coffee table. She then shuffled close to him again, her expression soft and her eyes inviting as a small smile curled her lips.

Joe’s brow rose and, hoping he hadn’t misread the signs, he placed his cup next to hers before pulling her into his arms.

Their kiss was passionate, and as it deepened Patsy’s tiny teeth nipped his lower lip. Joe groaned, becoming aroused as his hands began to roam her body, one coming to rest on a small, but pert breast.

She stiffened instantly, pushing him away, her voice sharp as she said, ‘Joe, I think you’d better leave now.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘Just because I’m divorced, it doesn’t mean I’m that sort of girl.’

‘I didn’t think you were, but well, you are rather lovely and you can’t blame a chap for trying.’

Small dimples appeared on her cheeks as she smiled. ‘Thanks, but it’s time you left.’

Joe rose to his feet. ‘Can I see you again?’

‘Yes, I’d like that.’

‘How about tomorrow night? Dinner? Or a movie?’

‘Dinner would be nice.’ She stood on tiptoe, kissing him swiftly on the cheek, and then led the way downstairs. ‘Goodnight, Joe,’ she whispered as he stepped outside.

‘I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow night.’

‘That’s fine,’ she said, adding before closing the door, ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

Joe climbed into his car, but as he drove home there was a worried frown on his brow. He liked Patsy, and there was no denying that she was a looker, but there was something he couldn’t put his finger on, something not quite right.

He’d asked her out, but now hoped he hadn’t made a mistake.

*   *   *

Arthur had little to say to Sally the next morning. Last night she had taken ages to come to bed and it confirmed his suspicions. He hadn’t been imagining things, nor was he being oversensitive.

At seven Joe arrived and Arthur was relieved to leave for the site. He settled back in his seat and began to enjoy the journey, turning his head when Joe spoke.

‘By the way, I’m taking Patsy out to dinner tonight,’ he said.

‘Blimey, that was quick work, though I can’t say I blame you. She’s a bit of all right.’

‘Yes, she is, but I’m not sure she’s my type,’ Joe said, and then turned the conversation to more serious things to do with the project.

Arthur was enjoying himself, feeling at least a little useful again. As they drew closer to Reading a soft rain began to fall, a thin veil that obscured his view as they arrived at the site. Joe parked and Arthur got out of the car, now able to see what looked like thick mud in the centre of the site. To one side building materials were stacked high, and the first row of houses was emerging.

‘Well, Arthur, what do you think?’

‘It’s good to see that the houses are going up.’

‘Come on,’ Joe said, motioning towards a prefabricated hut. ‘Such as it is, that’s our site office. I’ll give our foreman a shout and he can bring us up to speed.’

Arthur saw planks of wood leading to the door and gingerly swung over them, doing his best to hide his feelings. The site was a quagmire, impossible to manoeuvre on his crutches, and glancing around he saw some of the men looking at him. They quickly lowered their heads, but not before he saw the pity in their eyes.

As they went inside, Arthur’s eyes roamed the hut. The plans and charts attached to the wall meant nothing to him.

‘One sugar or two?’ Joe asked, as he started to make them a drink.

‘Two, please,’ Arthur said as he sat down on a wooden chair, placing his crutches to one side.

Soon after Joe handed him a tin mug, and then took a seat at the makeshift desk. ‘It’s good to have you on board, mate.’

‘Doing what?’ Arthur asked.

‘Blimey, mate, what do you think? The site doesn’t run itself. To maintain the schedules there are materials to be ordered, and as project managers it’s our job to keep things running smoothly. The bricklayers will do their job, as will the roofers, but there are all the other tradesmen to sort out; the plasterers, plumbers, carpenters and electricians. They all need access at different stages, and it’s up to us to see that they have all the materials they need,
and
that they don’t overlap with each other.’

‘I thought you said we have a foreman.’

‘Yes, we do, and Billy does a good job with the men, but he isn’t the one who does the ordering, or the marketing.’

Arthur shook his head doubtfully. ‘Christ, Joe, until I get my leg I won’t be able to navigate the site.’

‘If you want to start work now, you won’t have to. There’s plenty of stuff that needs doing in this office, such as making up and paying the men’s wages, along with marketing the houses and as I said, ordering materials. I could certainly do with a hand.’

‘I haven’t got a clue where to start.’

‘Neither did I at first, but like me, you’ll learn. We may make a few mistakes, but what we pick up in experience here, we’ll take on to our next project. I must admit there have been a few cock-ups, but nothing too serious, and we’re on schedule. Well, so far that is.’

The enormity of what they had undertaken hit Arthur, and he wondered what they had got themselves into. They had sunk all their savings into the venture, and if it all went pear-shaped, they’d be left with nothing but a pile of debts.

Arthur took a deep, steadying breath. As Joe said, he’d learn, and he’d do just that, putting everything he could into making this work. Their future depended on it.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Sally chewed worriedly on her lower lip. Arthur hadn’t complained about working on the building site, yet she was sure that something was wrong.

Two weeks had passed and in that time Arthur had grown more remote. Sally feared he found the job too much, especially as every night he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

A good night’s sleep didn’t help, and as always he had got up that morning terse and moody with hardly a word spoken between them. Sally was at a loss to know what to do.

It didn’t take Sally and Angel long to reach Candle Lane, and after taking her daughter to school she had only just returned when there was a knock on the door. ‘Hello, Nelly.’

‘Wotcher, Sally. What sort of mood is Sadie in?’

‘She’s much better nowadays. Her mood swings aren’t as bad.’

‘Right, I’ll come in then.’

Sally only half listened to the conversation as the two ladies chatted, but her ears pricked up when she heard Laura Walters’ name. ‘What did you say about Laura?’

‘I was just telling Sadie that she might be drinking again.’

‘No! I can’t believe it.’

‘Jessie Stone saw her yesterday and said she was acting a bit odd.’

‘Jessie is nothing but a gossip,’ Sally protested. ‘Just because Laura wasn’t herself, it doesn’t mean she’s drinking. She might have been ill.’

‘I don’t think so. Jessie said that Laura was furtive, sneaking home with something hidden under her coat. She spoke to her, and when Laura answered, her voice sounded slurred.’

Sally frowned. ‘Oh dear. I don’t like the sound of that.’

‘Me neither, but I ain’t surprised. There’s still no sign of her husband, and it must be hard on Laura that Denis walked out like that.’

‘That’s no excuse,’ Sadie snapped.

‘Maybe not, but if you’re an alcoholic just one drink puts you back on the slippery slope.’

‘Oh, and since when did you become an expert on the subject, Nelly Cox?’

‘Now then, Sadie, there’s no need to be sarcastic. I’m only repeating what I’ve heard.’

‘I’m not being sarcastic and I’ll say what I like in my own home. If you don’t like it, then you know what you can do.’

Sally jumped to her feet, surprised by her gran’s sudden mood change, and tried to change the subject. ‘Do you fancy a cup of tea, Nelly?’

‘No, thanks. I’m off.’

With no other choice, Sally escorted Nelly to the door where the old woman said, ‘Sorry, love, but I could see that Sadie was on the turn and I didn’t fancy being in the line of fire. When she gets in a two and eight she’s impossible.’

‘It’s all right, I understand, but it’s rare nowadays.’

‘If you say so. Maybe I’ll pop along to see her again tomorrow.’

‘Do you think Jessie is right about Laura?’

‘I dunno, love, but no doubt we’ll soon find out,’ Nelly said, lifting a hand to wave as she bustled off.

The rest of the day passed slowly for Sally, but at last her mother arrived home, and she was surprised to see Tommy Walters with her.

‘I found him sitting on his doorstep. The poor little sod’s hungry.’

‘Nelly came round earlier with a bit of gossip,’ Sadie told her. ‘She said that . . . well . . .
you know who,
might be back on the booze.’

The boy was too astute, and with an adult-like nod of his head, he said, ‘Yeah, I fink me mum’s pissed again.’

Ruth didn’t rebuke Tommy, only smiled at him fondly. ‘Sit down, love, and I’ll get you something to eat.’

Sally’s eyes narrowed as she watched her mother. She looked pleased to be looking after Tommy, as though glad that Laura was drinking. Surely that wasn’t the case? Surely she was imagin ing things?

Arthur arrived home after Sally, and as always Angel ran up to him. ‘Daddy, Tommy’s having his dinner with Nanny.’

‘Is he, well, that’s nice.’

‘His mummy is pissed.’

‘Angel!’ Sally exclaimed. ‘Don’t use that word!’

‘Tommy said it.’

Arthur forced his voice to sound stern. ‘Little girls shouldn’t swear. It isn’t nice and I don’t want you copying Tommy.’

‘All right, Daddy.’

‘Did you have a good day, Arthur?’ Sally asked.

As Angel was around, Arthur managed to keep his voice pleasant. ‘It was all right.’

Sally glanced at the clock and frowned. ‘With Joe and Patsy coming to dinner tonight, I’d best get a move on.’

Arthur said nothing, and when she left the room Angel began to chatter. He did his best to answer her, yet in truth his mind was elsewhere. When he came home from hospital Arthur had expected everything to be wonderful, and as far as work was concerned, other than the occasional pitying look from some of the men, it was. However, he couldn’t say the same about his relationship with Sally. It had gone wrong from day one when he had sensed her withdrawal after just one kiss. In bed, rather than face rejection, he pretended to be asleep, though aware when Sally climbed into bed, that she kept a careful distance.

Every night now followed the same pattern and Arthur knew why. Sally found his stump repulsive and didn’t want it near her. She was making him feel less than a man, and he hated it.

At seven-thirty, Sally put Angel to bed and then laid the table for dinner. Arthur hardly spoke again and once again Sally was determined to talk to him, to get to the bottom of what was wrong, but with Joe and Patsy due to arrive soon it would have to wait.

Patsy as usual looked lovely when Sally let them in, this time in a bright red miniskirt and white roll-neck jumper. As they walked into the living room, Arthur perked up. ‘Blimey, Patsy, you’re a sight for sore eyes,’ he said, looking the girl up and down.

‘Thank you, kind sir,’ she replied, and as she sat down her skirt rode up to reveal more of her shapely legs.

Sally saw that Arthur was looking at them with appreci ation and was surprised to feel a surge of jealousy. When was the last time he had looked at her like that? She forced a smile, shaking off the feeling as she asked if they’d like a drink.

It was the start of an evening that seemed full of undertones. Arthur focused most of his attention on Patsy, almost, Sally thought, as if he was deliberately trying to make her jealous. But why?

Joe was good company, chatting to her throughout the evening and acting as a counterbalance, yet even he seemed tense as he watched Patsy laughing and giggling her way through the evening.

Sally decided to play Arthur at his own game, and flirted a little with Joe, but her heart wasn’t in it and it made her feel foolish, especially when Arthur didn’t seem to care. She tried another tactic. ‘How’s business, Patsy?’ she asked, drawing her attention away from Arthur.

‘It isn’t too bad, but I could do with a little car and would love to learn to drive. It’s a bugger carting my stuff on and off buses.’

‘But I thought you said all your clients are local.’

Patsy flushed. ‘Yeah, well, they are, but I’ve just picked up a couple of new clients in Streatham.’

Sally wondered why Patsy sounded so flustered, but only said, ‘Oh, did you advertise there?’

‘No, they came by way of a recommendation.’

‘I wouldn’t mind having my hair restyled. How much do you charge?’

‘Leave it out, Sally, I wouldn’t charge you anything. What sort of style are you thinking of ?’

‘I don’t know really. Perhaps a cut like yours. What do you think, Arthur?’

‘Do what you like,’ he snapped.

Sally flinched at his tone, hurt and bewildered by his behaviour, while Joe glanced pointedly at his watch. ‘I didn’t realise it was so late. Come on, Patsy, we’d best be off.’

They said goodbye to Arthur, his reply short, and as Sally showed them to the door, Joe said quietly, ‘Is Arthur all right?’

‘He isn’t himself and he seems dreadfully tired.’

Joe frowned. ‘In that case, I could suggest he takes a bit of time off. At least until he gets his prosthesis. I think he said he’s going for his first fitting next week.’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘Come on, Joe,’ Patsy urged.

‘Yes, yes, all right,’ he said. ‘Bye, Sally, and don’t worry, I’ll have a word with Arthur.’

Relieved, Sally waved to Patsy and then closed the door, only to find when she went back to the living room that it was empty. She went through to the bedroom and in the darkness heard Arthur snoring.

Sadly she got undressed, hoping that Arthur would agree to take some time off. He’d be less tired then and maybe, just maybe, they could regain the intimate side of their marriage.