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Edward arrived home at eleven in the morning, two weeks after Jenny’s birthday. He had wanted to be there, had promised to be there for her big day, but when he hadn’t been able to make it he’d rung Delia to explain why. She’d have told Jenny about the fix he’d been in, that in those circumstances it had been impossible to make it home.
He pulled the belated present from the boot of his car, berating himself. He should have at least rung Jenny on her birthday, but he’d been so tied up with sorting things out he hadn’t given it a thought. Delia was right in some things, Edward admitted to himself. He could be thoughtless and his work became his whole focus when he was away from home.
Of course, that hadn’t been the case on Jenny’s birthday, but nevertheless Edward intended to make it up to her this weekend. He’d book a restaurant, they’d all go out for a slap-up meal, and then he’d give her the extra present he had tucked away in his pocket, a lovely little gold pendant she was sure to love.
With a smile on his face in anticipation of his daughter’s welcome, he went inside, calling, ‘Where’s my girl?’
There was no response, the house strangely silent. Puzzled, Edward looked in the drawing room but found it empty, and so he went into the kitchen. Empty again. Where was everyone?
Having expected an excited welcome from Jenny, Edward felt a strong sense of anticlimax as he placed the parcel on the kitchen table before heading for the stairs. At the top he called, ‘Is anyone home?’
Robin came out of his room, saying quietly, ‘Hello, Dad.’
‘Where is everyone?’
‘Mum’s gone shopping, but she should be home soon.’
‘What about Jenny?’
‘Er…you’re not going to like this, Dad, but Jenny’s gone. She left home.’
‘What!’ Edward thundered. ‘When?’
‘She left on her birthday.’
‘But why?’ Edward asked, but then he heard Delia coming in. ‘Oh, don’t tell me, I can guess.’ Turning away from his son, he hurried downstairs to confront his wife. ‘So you’ve done it. While I was away you got rid of Jenny.’
‘I…I did no such thing. She left of her own accord.’
‘Don’t give me that!’
‘It’s true, Dad,’ said Robin, who had followed Edward downstairs.
‘I don’t believe it!’ Edward snapped, dismissing his son as he focused on Delia. ‘Tell me where Jenny is. Whether you like it or not I’m bringing her home.’
Delia’s face drained of colour and Robin went to her side. ‘We don’t know where Jenny is,’ he said.
Edward’s fury mounted as he glared at Delia. ‘Jenny’s a child and you let her leave home with no idea of where she was going? Are you mad, woman?’
‘Stop it! Please stop shouting,’ Delia begged.
‘Have you told the police? Have you reported her missing?’
‘What would be the point of that? She’s sixteen and free to leave home if she wants to.’
‘She’s a child! You…you…’ he ground out, so furious that he could have throttled her. ‘I’ll never forgive you for this!’
‘Dad, stop it. None of this is Mummy’s fault. Jenny’s behaviour over the years had been abominable, and just lately she almost caused Mummy to have a nervous breakdown.’
‘Don’t talk rubbish!’
‘See, Robin, I told you,’ Delia cried. ‘I said your father would blame me.’
‘Leave this to me,’ soothed Robin. ‘Take one of your pills. I know they make you feel groggy but it’ll calm you.’
As Robin walked towards him, Edward noticed for the first time that his son no longer looked like a boy. He looked like a young man and a determined one at that.
‘Dad, come on,’ he said, grasping his arm. ‘Mother really is ill and we need to talk.’
‘Ill my foot,’ Edward snapped, convinced that Delia was hiding behind her so-called nerves as usual. He’d get nothing out of her, but at least his son might be able to shed some light on the matter, a clue as to where Jenny had gone. If Robin could suggest somewhere, as a starting point, it would be something. He had to find Jenny. He just had to.
Robin was relieved when his father agreed to accompany him to the drawing room. His mother had tried to stop Jenny from leaving – they had both tried. There had been a tug of war when he tried to grab her rucksack, but Jenny had fought like a tiger, verbally attacking both him and his mother.
She had fled then, leaving his mother sobbing and in such a state that he’d had to call the doctor. She was now on medication, which was helping, but would it be enough to shield her from his father’s anger?
‘I need a drink,’ his dad said, taking a decanter and pouring a large measure of whisky.
Robin waited until he had gulped it down, and then said, ‘There are things you should know about Jenny.’
‘Don’t bother. I know my daughter.’
‘No, Dad, you don’t. Mother told me that Jenny has made her life a misery for years, but I didn’t believe her until I saw it with my own eyes,’ Robin told him, going on to tell his father all that had happened since he was last here.
‘That doesn’t sound like Jenny,’ Edward said. ‘But if what you say is true, your mother must have driven her to behave like that.’
‘She did not!’ Robin insisted. ‘If you had been here you’d have seen that for yourself, but of course you’re always away. Not only that, if you hadn’t put your work first, you’d have been here for Jenny’s birthday and perhaps able to stop her from leaving. We certainly couldn’t.’
‘What are you talking about? I was driving home when my car broke down. I rang your mother to tell her why I couldn’t make it and asked her to explain things to Jenny. Didn’t she pass on my message?’
Robin could remember the phone call and frowned. His mother hadn’t said anything about the car. Confused, he was about to tell his father that, but then bit back the words. It would anger him again, cause another confrontation, and his mother was upset enough as it was.
‘Yes, of…of course she did,’ he stuttered, hating having to lie. He knew that there had to be an explanation for his mother’s behaviour but now, recalling how upset Jenny had been when Delia told her that dad’s work came first, doubts crossed his mind. What else had his mother lied about?
‘I had to find a garage, sort out repairs, but forget that for now. Jenny is my main concern and I need to find her. Where do I start? Have you got any idea?’
‘I’ve been looking, asked around, and found out that her best friend left home at the same time. I think that means they’re together, but as Jenny starts work at the local library on Monday, they’re probably still in this area.’
A look of relief crossed his father’s face. ‘Well done, son, that should make it a lot easier. If I can’t find Jenny before then, I’ll just have to be outside the library when she turns up for work. Right, I’m going to have a quick bite to eat and then I’ll make a start.’
Privately, Robin doubted that Jenny would agree to come home even if his father did find her, but he didn’t say anything. They returned to the kitchen together to find his mother sitting at the table, her face slack, the pill she had taken making her groggy. Once again he wondered why she had lied about the telephone call, deciding to ask her as soon as his father went out.
However, as soon as Delia saw them, she rose tiredly to her feet. ‘I…I’m going upstairs to lie down for a while.’
‘Yes, all right, Mother,’ Robin agreed, aware that his father was looking at her scathingly as she left the room. He felt protective of her and as soon as she was out of sight he sprang to her defence. ‘I told you what happened and you can’t blame Mother for this. Jenny really did leave of her own accord.’
‘You’re supposed to have a brain. Use it,’ his father snapped. ‘You said Jenny’s been making your mother’s life a misery, but don’t you think it’s odd that you’ve only just seen it for yourself?’
‘Mother said Jenny’s clever, that she only behaved badly when I wasn’t around.’
‘Right, let’s think about that. From what I’ve gathered, she told you this so-called bad behaviour has been going on for years. How many years?’
‘I don’t know for sure, but since our childhood. Mother mentioned my eleven plus so it must have been before that.’
His father’s laugh was derisive as he slapped a piece of ham between two slices of bread. ‘So you’re telling me that Jenny, who would have been around nine years old then, was wily enough at that age to make your mother’s life hell without you seeing or hearing a thing? We didn’t, and still don’t, live in a mansion, and as this has supposedly been going on for at least seven years, I doubt that hiding it for that long is possible.’
‘I…I hadn’t thought of that…but I have seen it now, Dad.’
‘So you say, but don’t you think it’s strange that after so many years of so-called concealing her bad behaviour, Jenny has suddenly come out into the open?’
Robin frowned as he thought it over. ‘Well, yes, it is a bit odd.’
‘As I said, use your head. I suspect what you saw was Jenny rebelling against her treatment for all these years. You’ve seen how cold your mother can be, how at times she speaks to Jenny like a servant, and I just wish I’d done more to put a stop to it. Now I’m going to find my daughter,’ he said, not pausing to wrap the sandwich. ‘I’ll eat this in the car.’
Robin was left floundering, but it took only a few seconds for him to realise that his father was right. ‘Hold on, Dad. I’m coming with you.’
‘Fine,’ said Edward. ‘Two pairs of eyes are better than one. Though as your mother is supposed to be ill, aren’t you worried about leaving her on her own?’
‘No, Dad. Let’s go and find Jenny.’
Delia didn’t need pills. She wasn’t in a nervous state or depressed. She’d been ecstatic that Jennifer had left home, but then Edward had turned up and now her happiness was replaced by worry. Delia hadn’t gone to bed; instead she’d stood on the stairs listening, and had been horrified by what she’d heard. Blast Edward. Blast him for putting doubt in her son’s mind.
Now, alone in the silent house, Delia cursed her own stupidity. She’d overplayed her hand by putting Jennifer at too young an age to be that clever – but there had to be a way to turn things round. Setting her mind to the problem, she at last realised that there was only one thing she could do. There was no choice. She hadn’t wanted to play this hand yet though, had planned to wait until she was self-sufficient and able to tell Edward that their marriage was over.
It was the only option left to her, Delia decided – and at least she’d be entitled to the house, as well as a decent settlement until Robin finished his education.
Chapter Twelve (#ulink_a2433371-8901-583b-a1f0-f0359180ad86)
With no idea of the drama that was unfolding in Wimbledon, Jenny and Tina were in Chelsea, arms linked as they walked along the King’s Road.
Jenny had found Chelsea nerve-racking at first. Unable to find a flat or rooms at such short notice, the two girls had spent that first night in a seedy hotel. Jenny had hardly slept for worrying that they’d made a huge mistake, but nothing had seemed to faze Tina, and her friend had snored gently all night.
The next morning they had begun their search again, but flats or even bedsits where the rent wasn’t exorbitant proved impossible to find. Footsore and weary, they had finally stumbled across a rundown area at the far end of the King’s Road called the World’s End. The two-roomed pokey flat they at last found was thanks to a card in a shop window and the landlord had asked no questions when he pocketed the rent and deposit. Part of a tall, scruffy terraced house, it wasn’t much, but once they had settled in, Jenny at last found herself happy.
Except for one thing, she thought, and that was her worry that they’d never find jobs. Her hopes of working in a bookshop hadn’t come to fruition, having tried a few without success, including one that was tucked down an alley and specialised in antique books. Tina had thought her mad for wanting to work in what she called a dark, dusty, musty hole, but Jenny would have loved it.
They had tried boutiques, department stores, cafés and restaurants, growing increasingly desperate when it was always their age or lack of experience that let them down. With such a large chunk of her savings gone on securing the flat, Jenny feared that if they didn’t soon find work, her money would run out.
‘Come on, Jenny, step up the pace,’ Tina urged. ‘We don’t want to be late.’
‘There’s no chance of that,’ Jenny said, keeping her fingers crossed that they’d be lucky this time. Surely it had been a good omen that, just as they were passing a newly refurbished café-cum-restaurant, a sign had appeared in the window for staff. They’d been told the new owner would be conducting interviews at eleven today and they had left the flat with plenty of time to spare, determined to be first in line.
‘Right, shoulders back and look confident,’ Tina advised when they arrived.
They stepped inside to find several other hopefuls waiting and were told to sit with them. It was over half an hour before their turn came. Jenny was called before Tina and nervously approached the man conducting the interviews.
He eyed her sceptically, his first question: ‘How old are you?’
‘I’m sixteen.’
‘Is that so?’ he said, a small smile playing around his mouth.
He wasn’t young, but a bit of a dish, Jenny thought, with olive skin and dark hair, Italian or Greek perhaps, she decided, though he had no trace of an accent. She was shaking inwardly but did her best to hide it as she said firmly, ‘Yes, I told you, I’m sixteen.’
‘What’s your name and where do you live?’
‘Jennifer. Jennifer Lavender and I recently moved to Chelsea from Wimbledon.’
‘I’m looking for waitresses. Have you any experience?’
‘Er…no,’ she said. Thinking on her feet, she added, ‘But I’m a fast learner.’
Once again a look of amusement crossed his face and for a moment Jenny began to hope. It was short-lived, as he said, ‘I want trained staff. However…’
As he paused, Jenny blurted out, ‘I’ll do anything, any job.’
‘The only thing I can offer you is kitchen work, cleaning, washing up, that sort of thing.’
Without a thought, Jenny said hurriedly, ‘I’ll take it.’
‘So without asking me about the hours, the pay, you’ll take it?’
‘Well…no…but…’
‘But you’re desperate,’ he interrupted. ‘Yes, I thought so, and I also doubt you’re sixteen. What are you, a runaway?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Do you live with your parents?’
‘Not now. I share a flat with my friend. She’s over there,’ Jenny said, nodding towards Tina.
His eyes narrowed, scrutinising Tina, then he crooked a finger to beckon her over. ‘I suppose you’re going to tell me that you’re sixteen too?’
‘Yeah, that’s right.’
‘And, like your friend, you’ll take any job on offer?’
‘I don’t know about that. It depends what’s on offer and the pay.’
‘Have you any experience?’
‘Look, we both left school recently so the answer is no, and we never will have unless someone gives us a chance.’
Jenny hid a smile. Unlike her, Tina didn’t seem nervous or browbeaten as she looked the man in the eye. He shrugged, then said, ‘As I told your friend, all I can offer is kitchen work. It’s eight-hour shifts, six days a week, and the weekly pay is eleven pounds.’
‘Eleven quid! Is that all?’
‘Take it or leave it.’
