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‘Ignore her, Ian.’ Affording Libby a scowl, Eileen smiled up at the man. ‘She always was a difficult child! As you know.’
The man gave a curt nod of the head. His name was not Ian Harrow but Peter Scott, a bully-boy and laya-bout. Having spent the night with the crazy old bat, all he wanted was his payment.
Looking him up and down, Eileen struggled to remember. ‘I’m so glad you came to see us. You mustn’t go just yet, though. Oh dear, it’s been such a long time since you were last here. Please, won’t you stay for a cup of tea?’ Unable to remember him, she grew agitated. ‘Oh, and a slice of toast and marmalade, eh?’
‘What?’ He saw his opportunity. ‘I’m not ’ere for bloody marmalade!’
‘Oh, well, some bacon and eggs, then.’ The flustered woman turned to her daughter. ‘We do have eggs and bacon, don’t we?’
‘Sorry, Mother,’ Libby lied, hoping he might leave without any further fuss. ‘I didn’t have time to do a shop yesterday.’ This was an awkward situation; one of many over these past difficult years.
‘No eggs or bacon? Well, it won’t do, my girl. It won’t do at all!’ Raking her hands through her hair, the older woman began stamping her foot. ‘No eggs or bacon! You’re worse than useless! Can’t even mek a bed properly! However hard I try, you never learn, do you?’ Turning her attention on the stranger, she stared him up and down. ‘An’ who the hell are you?’
Peter Scott gave a sly, gappy grin. ‘Oh, now I see what yer at!’ The grin slipped into a scowl. ‘Don’t play the innocent with me, you old cow,’ he hissed. ‘Oh, an’ I can tell you now – lying in bed with you turned my stomach!’
‘What d’you mean?’ Looking from the man to her daughter, Eileen was obviously confused. ‘What does he mean?’ she repeated worriedly. ‘What’s he saying?’
‘I’m warning yer, don’t try that on me!’ he snarled. ‘I don’t tek kindly to being conned!’
All the same, this time he thought he might have fallen on his feet. First the old one sidles up and asks him to go home with her, and now he discovers there’s an even better opportunity to get away with his pockets full. Maybe after he’s given the younger one a good seeing-to, an’ all.
Twisting the tale, he said, ‘Nice try, ladies – I’ll give you that. But it won’t work. Y’see, I ‘appen to be in the same line of business.’
‘What are you getting at?’ This time, Libby sensed real trouble. Like before, her mother had obviously thought this man was her husband and promised him the earth to come back home with her. It was not the first time that Eileen Harrow had scoured the streets for her missing husband, only to come across some ne’er-do-well ready to use the situation to his own advantage. ‘I’d like you to explain,’ she went on coolly. ‘And then I’d like you to leave!’
Scott laughed – a hollow, unnerving sound that sent the older woman cowering against the wall. ‘Lah-di-bloody-dah, ain’t we?’ Irritated, and anxious to get away, he pretended to search his pockets. ‘Yer thievin’ devils! Me money’s gone! I can see what yer up to now! Con artists the pair of yer! And clever with it. But not quite clever enough. It’s obvious that you set out to rob me blind. And I ’ave to admit, yer took me in good and proper at first, but now it’s clear as day what yer after.’
Taking a step forward, he concentrated on Libby. ‘You’re the brains behind it, while this one’ – he grinned at Eileen, who was still cowering against the wall – ‘is the bait. And no doubt the police will see it the same way after I’ve finished.’ He had to make them out as villains, or the younger one would likely call the police on him.
He outlined his interpretation of events. ‘So there I was, minding me own business, when this woman latched onto me, said she needed me to ‘come home’ with ’er. Enticed me back here, she did, and very convincing it was too. I didn’t realise I was being set up to be robbed.’ He congratulated himself on being witty enough to turn the tables on them. ‘I can see it all now. The two of you are in it together. Con-artists, just like I said. You set a bloke up an’ leave him wi’ nowt.’
‘That’s a lie!’ Libby retaliated. ‘You must have realised my mother is ill, yet you deliberately took advantage of her!’
He slowly clapped his hands together. ‘Oh, very good.’ He grinned widely. ‘So now, what do you think to my interpretation of events?’
‘I think you’re a liar and a rogue. And if you reckon for one minute that anyone would believe your story, you’re a damned fool!’
‘Is that so?’ The smile disappeared from his face. Leering at her, he hissed softly, ‘Well, that’s my story, word for word, exactly as it happened, and I’m prepared to tell it to anyone who wants to know.’ Anger coloured his voice. ‘Yer ought to be bloody grateful it were me she latched onto! There are men out there who might have given you silly pair a good hiding, an’ more. No doubt they’d ’ave gone through this house an’ took everything worth a bob or two. An’ I reckon, it’s only what yer deserve.’
Fearing he might get violent, Libby moved to protect her mother, ‘I want you out of here – now!’ she said in a low voice. The thought of him bedding her mother was sickening.
Turning his trouser pockets inside out, Scott continued to play the victim. ‘There were at least fifty quid in these pockets when she picked me up, and now it’s all gone. So, unless yer want more trouble than yer can handle, you’d best hand over what I’ve earned, along with the cash you stole from me trouser-pockets. Oh, an’ don’t mek the mistake o’ shouting for help.’ To prove the point, he grabbed Eileen and held her in a vicious grip, before abruptly releasing her when she began to struggle.
As he took a step towards Libby, Eileen startled them both by yelling obscenities. ‘You leave her alone!’ Rushing forward, she clung to Libby with one hand, while with the other, she feverishly plucked at her hair until she resembled a wild thing.
‘I’m going nowhere, not without what’s mine!’ Grabbing Libby by the neck, he yanked her forward. ‘You’d best shut her up, or I will!’ With one mighty thrust he sent her hurtling backwards.
Subdued, Eileen was sobbing. ‘Who is he?’ she whispered hoarsely. ‘Why does he want to hurt us?’
‘Don’t worry, Mum. I won’t let him hurt you.’ Libby realised that the quickest way to be rid of him would be to offer whatever money they had. But since they had so very little, that was not really an option.
Her voice trembling, Eileen said to Libby, ‘If he’s here when your father gets home from work, there’ll be the devil to pay!’ Glancing furtively at the door, she half expected Libby’s father to burst in and protect them.
‘You heard her,’ Libby said, squaring up to the intruder. ‘My father will be home soon from the night shift. So if you know what’s good for you, you’d best make tracks!’ Keeping her mother safe, she added firmly, ‘There’s nothing for you here.’
‘I’ll go when I’m paid what she owes me. And fifty quid on top!’ His smile widened, to show a crooked row of yellowing teeth as he eyed her up and down. ‘Happen you’d prefer me to take part payment in other ways . . . if yer know what I mean?’
Libby knew exactly what he meant. ‘Like I said, we’ve got nothing for you. So, if you don’t leave, I’ll have no choice but to call the police.’
‘Go on, then!’ he goaded. ‘Call ‘em now! I can soon explain how I found this poor, deluded old dear wandering the streets, prostituting herself to any man that took her fancy. Being a proper gent, I managed to find an address tucked in her pocket, and I made sure she got home safely. That’s what I’ll tell the police, I reckon they’ll get the Social out and she’ll be banged up in a home, where she belongs.’
‘No one would take any notice of a man like you!’ All the same, Libby was worried. If he really did what he threatened, the officials would be all over her, asking questions and snooping around. And if that was the case, who knows what might happen? Her mother must not be taken from her.
‘Oh, and don’t forget, there are any number of witnesses who’ll back me up,’ Scott boasted. ‘They all saw how she offered herself on a plate to any man she came across – promising money and everything.’ He added cruelly, ‘Only it seems they didn’t need the money as much as I did.’
Lowering his voice, he leaned forward. ‘Like any decent bloke, I took pity on her, an’ the fact that she’s safely home proves that. So I think you know who the police will believe. No doubt they’ll ask why you allowed this poor old soul to wander the dark streets in her nightwear. You put her in danger, that’s what they’d say.’
Sensing Libby’s concern, he went on menacingly, ‘If it weren’t for me, some lesser man might ’ave had his way with ’er, before throwing ’er in the canal. Wrong in the ’ead she may be, but to tell the truth, compared to some of the scrubbers we get on the streets, she’s passable enough for a bit of fun.’
‘You get out!’ Diving out from behind Libby, Eileen suddenly threw herself at him, fists flailing. ‘Get away from my girl!’ The force of her attack sent him stumbling against the wall. ‘What d’you want in my house? Get out! Go on, get out!’
Shocked by Eileen’s vicious onslaught, and now with Libby joining in, Scott found himself being man handled across the room. Libby managed to open the front door, where the two of them struggled to push him outside. ‘Show your face here again,’ Libby warned, ‘and I’ll have the law on you!’
‘Yer don’t say!’ Grabbing Libby by the throat, he tried to push her back inside. ‘I don’t need no trouble with the police, so just give me what I’m owed, an’ I’ll go!’
When Eileen came at him again, screeching and clawing at his face, he raised his arm and, with one sharp thump, sent her backwards across the room.
‘Hey! What the hell d’you think you’re doing?’ The man came at him from behind.
Older than Scott but strong as a bull, Thomas Farraday grabbed the younger man by the scruff of his neck, lifted him off his feet and literally swung him down the path, straddling him as he tried to scramble up, fists bunched and ready for a fight.
‘This ain’t got nothing to do with you!’ Scott argued, before a hammer-sized fist smashed into his mouth. It was enough to send him scampering, but not without a parting shot as he nursed his jaw: ‘You want locking up! Mad as hatters, the lot of you!’
Then, as Thomas took a step forward, he ran like a crazy man, stumbling wildly in his panic to get away. From a safe distance he shook his fist. ‘I’ll not forget this in a hurry!’ he yelled, though when Thomas started after him, he fled down the street, never to be seen again.
Chapter Three (#ulink_cdf9d569-1edf-5f7a-9d3c-ea775d84b334)
AFTER WAITING UNTIL the unwelcome visitor was out of sight, Thomas went back to find Libby trying to calm her mother, who had been deeply disturbed by the entire episode. Seated at the table, Eileen was rocking back and forth. ‘It was all my fault,’ she sobbed. ‘I brought him here, but he wasn’t the one.’ She glanced up, her misty eyes looking from one to the other. ‘Y’see, I thought he were my Ian. I’m sorry I caused all this trouble.’
‘It’s all right, Eileen, love.’ Seeing how Libby was too choked to speak, Thomas came forward. ‘He’s gone now, and by the way he shot round that corner, he’ll not bother you again.’
Calmed by his quiet voice and gentle manner, Eileen looked up with tearful eyes. ‘You’re a good man, Thomas.’ Taking his work-worn hand into hers, she gently kissed it. ‘And I’m a silly old woman. They should put me away for what I’ve done to my Libby.’ Eileen had fleeting moments of lucidity, and this was one of them.
Glancing to where her daughter was making a pot of fresh tea and some scrambled eggs, she gave an almighty sigh: ‘My lovely girl!’ When she wiped her eyes, Thomas felt her sorrow. ‘She never married, you know. And it’s all because of me.’
Thomas gently quietened her fears: ‘I’m sure she’ll find the right man one of these days,’ he promised. ‘Besides, she’s only thirty, so there’s time enough yet.’
Eileen was amazed. ‘Oh dear! Is she thirty already?’
‘I believe so, yes.’
‘So, she really is wasting her life, then?’
‘No.’ Thomas had a special fondness for these two women. ‘Libby loves taking care of you. You know yourself, she would have it no other way.’
In her mind, Eileen was beginning to drift again.
‘Thirty isn’t old, but it’s not young either, is it, Thomas?’ When she looked away, he felt her pain. ‘It was me who brought that bad man home. I didn’t mean to. I was looking for my Ian. I need him, and Libby needs a father.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘My little girl is thirty, and all these years she’s been without a daddy.’ Her voice broke. ‘And I’ve been without a husband.’ She added gratefully, ‘Oh, I know you’ve been kind to Libby and me, but you’re not her father, are you, Thomas? And she’s thirty already.’ She looked at him curiously. ‘You do know that, don’t you?’
Thomas smiled. ‘Oh, my! What I wouldn’t give, to be thirty again!’
‘You and me . . .’ Eileen stroked the back of his hand, ‘we’re old, aren’t we, Thomas?’
He laughed out loud. ‘Aw, I don’t know about that.’ While he was well into his late sixties, Eileen was only just sixty. And though at times her mind was broken, she was still an attractive woman, with her high cheekbones and sparkly brown eyes. She had a kind heart and, when her intelligence was not overshadowed, she displayed a bright, appealing sense of humour.
‘D’you really think Libby will find her man? I mean, you’re not just trying to pacify a silly old woman, are you?’
He shook his head. ‘You’re not to worry, sweetheart. Libby will be all right. And you mustn’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve had a lot to contend with.’
She smiled up at him. ‘You know, don’t you?’ she murmured. ‘You understand the way it is.’
‘I do, yes,’ he replied softly. ‘I understand, because I’ve been there.’ He reflected a moment, before going on: ‘Sometimes, when you can’t bear to think about the cruelty of life, you hide inside yourself.’
Eileen was amazed at how Thomas always managed to say the right thing. ‘Is that what I do – hide inside myself ?’ She felt somehow pacified. ‘I never knew that.’
Shifting positions, he sat down beside her. Sliding his arm round her shoulders, he drew her close to him. ‘You’re not the only one, Eileen, love,’ he confided. ‘At some time or another, we all have a need to hide inside ourselves.’
‘Do we really?’ Something in his manner made her curious.
‘Yes, sweetheart, we do.’
She leaned into his embrace. ‘Thomas?’
‘Yes, m’dear?’
‘Do you hide sometimes?’
He smiled, a slow, rueful smile that carried him back over the years. ‘Oh yes. Like I said, we all do.’
‘Why is that, Thomas?’
He took a moment to search for the right words. ‘Well, sometimes, when life gets too hard for me to handle, it helps me to go to a quiet place, somewhere deep inside, where nobody else can follow.’
For reasons he would rather not say, Thomas knew all about that. ‘It’s my own little haven, y’see?’ He glanced down into her upturned brown eyes, and his heart was pained. ‘Are you feeling better now, m’dear?’
Eileen’s smile was beautiful. ‘Yes, thank you, Thomas. You always help me.’
He smiled back. ‘Well, that’s good. I’m always glad to help, as you know. And don’t ever forget, I’m always here for you and Libby. You know that as well, don’t you?’
‘Mmm.’ Already her mind was shifting.
From across the kitchen, Libby heard their conversation. Deeply touched by his genuine kindness, she listened while buttering toast. These two people were not angels, by any means. They each had tempers when riled and they took no prisoners. Yet they were kind and generous, and beautiful in spirit.
Over the years, since she was a little girl, Libby had looked up to Thomas, who had proved to be a great comfort to her mother. Libby had strong affection for this dear man, and the friendship was between Thomas and her mother was a joy to see.
Their innocent chatter made her yearn to have a man of her own. To be making plans for the future. To be someone’s sweetheart. To walk down the aisle, plan a home, and be a mother. And most of all, to share the burden that life had become. And yet, she had coped, because of her deep, abiding love for her mother. No one had wanted this sorry situation, but they still had each other, and the ever-watchful Thomas.
Like Thomas, she understood about that special hiding-place where no one else could follow. Libby had often visited that special place inside herself, to dream and wish and hope. It was a wonderful, brief respite from the way her life had evolved. Though when she came back to reality, nothing had changed. Nothing ever would. But for that short, precious time, when carried along by her imagination, she was free to dream.
In many ways, Libby considered herself blessed. She had her health and strength and so did her mother, apart from her slowly deteriorating mental state; although thankfully, Libby was able to make her days as normal and enjoyable as possible.
The two of them had a pretty home, paid for by the man who later abandoned them. She and her mother were warm and cosy, and they shared a deep bond of love. One way and another, there was enough coming in to feed and clothe them both, even though they had to watch every penny.
Libby often reminded herself that there were many people worse off than them. She counted her blessings. Life threw challenges at you: some you could deal with and some you couldn’t. Life was no easy ride for anyone, she knew that. She also knew that all you could do was to get through the best way you could.
‘Breakfast is ready, Mum. Thomas, would you like some scrambled eggs? I’ve made plenty.’
As the three sat and enjoyed a hearty meal, Eileen began worrying again. She was sad because her darling girl was nearly thirty years old and still not wed. So there were no children or grandchildren to love. Eileen truly believed it was all her fault, even though both Libby and Thomas tried to convince her otherwise.
‘It’s like Thomas said – I just haven’t met the right man yet,’ Libby assured her cheerfully. ‘One day I’ll be filling the shelves in the supermarket, and just like on the TV ads, some handsome fella will pick up the tin of beans I accidentally dropped, and before you know it, I’ll have met my future husband and father of my ten children.’
‘Hey, you’d best not have ten children,’ Eileen teased. ‘I won’t be able to fit them all on my knee!’ But in her more lucid moments, Eileen knew the truth: her daughter had been robbed of marriage and children, and all because of having to look after her.
‘I had a husband,’ Eileen now announced. ‘When we first married, we were so much in love we never needed anyone else. Then we had Libby, and everything was perfect . . . for a time.’ She discreetly wiped away a tear. ‘After we had the baby, my Ian began to change. He was restless – didn’t seem to want us any more. Sometimes he went with other women. I found out and I faced him time and again. He kept saying he loved me, and I had to believe him. I so wanted to believe him!’
A look of despair was etched on her face. ‘In the end I stopped worrying, because I knew I had to put up with it, or lose him. I pretended it wasn’t happening, and we were much happier. Later though, he left me anyway.’
When her voice broke and she began to stare into her teacup, Libby told her, ‘You don’t need to think about all that, Mum. It’s all water under the bridge, and I don’t like you being upset.’
Eileen gave a sad little nod. ‘I have to say it,’ she told her. ‘He’s been gone so long, and I need him here with me! I need answers. I need to ask him why he did it.’ She grew agitated. ‘It must have been my fault. I must have done something wrong.’
This time it was Thomas who intervened, his voice stern but kindly. ‘It was not your fault, my dear. If you think back, you’ll remember how it really was. Your husband did love you – he would have been crazy not to. But he liked to play the field. We all knew that, and we all wondered how you managed to put up with it for so long. The truth is, for whatever reason, he liked other women. One was never enough. You were never enough. His own little daughter Libby was not even enough to keep him faithful. When he left, it was not your fault, Eileen. It was his. You must never forget that.’ It hurt him to see this darling woman so terribly sad.
‘He’s right, Mum.’ Libby agreed with his every word. ‘It’s common knowledge – Father was a womaniser. You stood by him, and yet he still went away, leaving us both behind, and me only six years old. Like Thomas said, it was nothing you did. Dad liked other women. It was just the way he was, that’s all.’
‘Ah, but you never knew about that woman next door, did you?’ As was her way, Eileen suddenly brought the discussion to a different level. ‘Claire Redmond, her name was.’
Libby was intrigued. ‘Yes, I do remember her,’ she confirmed. Sometimes her mother took her completely by surprise.
Thomas recalled the neighbour in question – a loose woman who liked other men, even before her husband died. ‘What was her son’s name, now . . . ?’ he pondered. ‘Jim? Joe? Oh, goodness! My memory’s getting worse by the minute.’
‘Jack!’ Libby’s voice rang out. She had not forgotten him and never would. ‘His name was Jack, and he was my best friend.’
Thomas scowled. ‘From what I remember, Jack’s mother was a real flighty sort – go with any tom-cat that howled, she would!’ He added softly, ‘Shame about what happened to her husband. Gordon was a nice enough bloke – struck down with a heart-attack two days after that big fire he got caught up in, and him only forty-two. It just goes to show – we never know what’s round the corner, do we, eh?’
There was a moment of quiet, before Eileen spoke again, and what she had to say came as a surprise to both Thomas and Libby. ‘Claire Redmond was a bad woman.’ She wagged a finger at Thomas. ‘She threw herself at my Ian!’
Nervously rolling her teacup in her hands, she leaned forward. ‘You were a bairn at the time,’ she told Libby, ‘and I took you with me to babysit for little Jack. Later, I found I’d left my coat behind, so I put you in your cot and nipped back – and there they were in the hallway. Your father and Jack’s mother – going at it like two ferrets, they were!’
