Desperate Measures

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‘Oh, darling, don’t,’ Val urged as she gave Paula a glass of sherry. ‘You’re safe now, and soon, I hope, you’ll never have to be afraid again. The woman you saw is the one I told you about, and I’m hoping she’ll be a suitable recruit. If she is, we can go ahead with our plans.’

‘Oh, Val, I hope you’re right. Before I met you, I … I didn’t think I’d be able to go on.’

‘Darling, don’t say that. I know you were dreadfully depressed, close to ending it all, but there’s no need now. We’ll get him, you’ll see.’

‘And you think this woman will help?’

‘With any luck, yes. Her name is Betty Grayson. She lives alone, and works as a housekeeper in Kensington. She also has two grown-up children.’

‘Won’t they be a problem?’

Val was pleased to see that Paula had calmed down. ‘No, I don’t think so. They live out of London and whilst I’ve been watching her, I’ve only seen the daughter once.’

‘It sounds like you’ve done all right so far. Have you told Cheryl about her?’

‘Not yet. She’s on duty all day but I’ll give her a ring this evening.’

Treacle began to clamour again, and knowing the signs that a walk couldn’t wait, Val said, ‘I’ll have to take him out, but why don’t you join me? After that, I’ll run you home.’

‘Yeah, all right, but I was hoping to stay a bit longer.’

‘I’m sorry, darling, but Betty has invited me up to her place for coffee and, if we want to get things moving, I must take every opportunity to work on her.’

Paula’s voice was lacklustre. ‘Yeah, I suppose so, but will I see you next weekend?’

Val wanted to use the valuable time to get to know Betty, but with Paula looking at her so hopefully, she just couldn’t refuse. ‘How about next Saturday? I could pick you up at around eleven o’clock.’

‘Great, and … and thanks, Val.’

The two of them left the flat to take Treacle for a walk, the dog almost dragging Val to the nearest tree. When they crossed into the park, Val let him off the lead for a run, whilst Paula’s feet dragged, her eyes flicking nervously around her as they ambled along. Val hated to see her like this, the poor girl a nervous wreck, and felt a wave of determination to move things forward. She’d share a confidence with Betty and cross her fingers that it would be returned.

Impatient to get on with it, Val made it a short walk, then clipped on Treacle’s lead to take him to her car. She opened the back door, the dog scrambling onto the seat. ‘Good boy, and stay there,’ she ordered.

Paula climbed in beside her. Obviously reluctant to be driven home, she said sadly, ‘I hate me bedsit.’

‘Why don’t you look for a better one? It would give you something to do and take your mind off things.’

‘I’d still feel like a prisoner, stuck in the house, too scared to go out.’

‘Not for much longer,’ Val said firmly, hoping she was right.

Soon they pulled up outside the tall, narrow house near Clapham Junction where Paula had a bedsit on the first floor. ‘Bye, Val … and see you next week.’

Val said goodbye, but saw how Paula’s shoulders were stooped with unhappiness as she climbed out of the car to walk to her door. A surge of rage made her heart pound. It was dreadful that Paula had to live like this, and Val’s hands gripped the steering wheel as she drove off, her knuckles white. They had to move forward – had to – and now her thoughts focused on Betty and a way to draw the woman out.

When Val returned to the flats she went straight upstairs to knock on Betty’s door.

‘Val, come on in,’ Betty invited, her face alight with pleasure. ‘When I saw that young woman waiting for you, I wasn’t sure you’d be up for coffee.’

‘I’m a bit late, but Paula was upset and I had to run her home. Do you mind if I bring Treacle in?’

‘Of course not. It was awful to see the poor girl in such a state.’

‘She’s fine now,’ Val said, unwilling as yet to talk about Paula, ‘and just someone I took under my wing.’

In Betty’s flat, Val saw ornaments in abundance, with a fussy crochet runner along the surface of the sideboard. There were embroidered linen chair-backs on the three-piece suite, fussy net curtains at the windows and, though it wasn’t to Val’s taste, it was homely, cosy – a perfect reflection of Betty’s personality.

Treacle made a fuss of Betty as she bent down to stroke him, and then he made straight for the rug in front of the fireplace where he settled down immediately. ‘Well, would you look at that?’ Val said. ‘He’s made himself at home already.’

‘He’s lovely,’ Betty said, smiling wistfully. ‘Now, sit yourself down and I’ll make us a drink. I’m afraid I’ve only got Camp coffee. Will that do?’

‘Sorry, Betty, in that case I’d rather have tea.’

‘Tea it is,’ she said, bustling off to her kitchenette.

Val sat back, her eyes closing as she rehearsed what she was going to say. It wouldn’t do to give too much away yet but, with any luck, if she spoke about her own situation, it would encourage Betty to do the same.

Betty returned with a tray, and along with the tea there was a paper-doily-covered plate holding a selection of biscuits. Like the woman, the china was fussy, the teapot covered with a hand-knitted cosy.

When the tea was poured, Val sighed, saying, ‘It’s been a lovely weekend but back to work tomorrow. It’s not a bad job, but my earnings are a fraction of what they used to be.’

‘Haven’t you always been a receptionist?’

‘No, Betty. At one time I had a flourishing career. I started off as a sales rep for a company supplying laboratory equipment. I gained promotions and eventually became the sales manager.’

‘Really? Goodness, that sounds exciting, but I know little about the commercial world.’

‘It’s amazing how far some women have come since the war ended. Now they have independence, with the opportunity to take up careers that were considered unsuitable for them before the conflict. Yet to gain promotion I’m sure that, like me, they had to fight every step of the way, to prove themselves as capable as men.’

‘Yes, but my daughter is always telling me that things are different now, that women have more opportunities.’

‘She’s probably right. Mind you, sometimes I wish I hadn’t concentrated so hard on a career. I missed out on marriage, on children, but I was ambitious. If I hadn’t been such a fool, if I hadn’t trusted a man …’ Val smiled sadly, leaving the sentence unfinished.

‘Why, what happened?’

‘It’s a long story and I don’t want to bore you.’

‘No, please, I’d love to hear about it.’

‘All right, then. As I said, I was ambitious, and made sure I kept up with current trends in the marketplace, worked hard to find sources of information. It was an exciting time, with new developments in equipment that would require no manual operation. This would be an enormous breakthrough for the industry and started with a titration device patented in America.’

‘Pardon? A what?’

‘Sorry, Betty, it’s all technical jargon – and no wonder you look bemused. I shouldn’t have blinded you with science, so come on, let’s talk about something else.’

‘No, do carry on. It’s just that I don’t know anything about laboratory equipment. You … you mentioned a man?’

Betty seemed eager to hear more, but Val wondered how far to go. She took a deep breath, deciding to expand a little. ‘Yes, there was a man, but he ruined my life. You see during my time as a sales rep, and occasionally as sales manager, I had to do a lot of travelling, sometimes staying overnight in hotels. As our equipment was for targeted markets, such as private laboratories, universities and hospitals, we sometimes came across reps from other companies. It was during an overnight stay that I met Mike Freeman. He was from another firm and it was just friendly rivalry at first, a bit of banter, but I have to admit I was attracted to him. We became involved, seeing each other at every opportunity. He was a sales manager too, with a team about the same size as mine, so it wasn’t always easy. We continued to meet as often as possible for the next eighteen months, but then …’ With a small shake of her head, Val’s sentence trailed off.

Betty leaned forward, softly urging, ‘Oh dear, what happened?’ As always, Val found it hard to talk about Mike Freeman, and hoped she had said enough to encourage Betty to open up too. ‘I … I’m sorry, Betty, it’s so painful, and even now just talking about it upsets me. Please, can we change the subject?’

Betty looked disappointed, but her tone was sympathetic. ‘You poor thing. Yes, talking about things can be painful and I know how you feel. Let’s have another cup of tea and do help yourself to biscuits.’

It boded well that Betty understood how she felt, and though Val wanted to ask more, she held back, hoping that Betty would elaborate on her situation.

She took a biscuit, but after Betty had poured two more cups of tea she said nothing further on the subject, instead saying, ‘I’m looking forward to going to that shop you told me about. You said they sell good-quality second-hand clothes. Where do they get them from?’

‘I’m not really sure, but I would imagine from women who want only the latest fashions. They’re dry-cleaned before going on sale, and though most are from last season, if you buy something classic, and maybe just dress it with beads or a scarf, it’ll carry you through for years.’

‘I’m not sure what you mean by classic, so would … would you help me to choose something?’ Betty asked, going slightly pink.

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Oh, Val, thank you,’ said Betty, gratefully.

After that the conversation remained on clothes, designers, and the sort of style that Val thought would suit Betty.

Val then rose to leave, disappointed that Betty hadn’t confided in her any further, but she consoled herself with the thought that it was early days yet. ‘Thanks for the tea. I know we’re going shopping in a couple of weeks, but until then, if you aren’t busy in the evenings, you can always pop down to see me.’

‘I might just do that,’ Betty said, looking pleased at the invitation. ‘Or you can come up here to see me.’

‘Yes, all right,’ Val said. ‘Come on, Treacle, time for your dinner.’

The dog trotted to her side and, after saying goodbye to Betty, they returned downstairs. Val fed Treacle, and then curled on her sofa, feet tucked under her as she went over her plans – beginning with Paula. It would be risky, and she wasn’t sure the others would be willing to go along with her ideas, but they would need Betty to pull it off. Had she been hurt? So badly that she’d agree to join them? God, Val hoped so.