Foreman didn’t look convinced, but Frank saw a spark of the old Carol as she said sharply, ‘My dad isn’t lying. I saw the letter and read it.’
‘Did you recognise your mother’s handwriting?’
Once again Carol flared as she snapped, ‘Of course I did!’
Foreman didn’t react, unperturbed by Carol’s outburst as he said, ‘Nevertheless, I’d like to see this letter, Mr Cole.’
Frank began searching again, finding it down the side of his fireside chair and with relief he was at last able to hand the letter to Colin Foreman. The man read it, passed it to his colleague, who so far hadn’t uttered a word and still didn’t as Foreman said, ‘It seems you’re telling us the truth this time, Mr Cole. It would have saved us a lot of time if you had done that in the first place.’
‘My dad hasn’t done anything wrong and whoever made the allegation is the one who wasted your time,’ Carol said angrily. ‘Was it Mabel Povis?’
‘I’m not at liberty to say, but I think we can say this matter is closed now.’
With nods of goodbye both men left, and as Frank was still too stunned to react it was Carol who said as the door closed behind them, ‘He didn’t say it was Mabel, but I bet it was and I’m not letting her get away with it.’
Frank looked at his daughter, thinking that at least the visit from CID had served to snap Carol out of her lethargy. ‘Leave it, love. No harm’s been done and we can’t say for sure it was her.’
‘I can’t believe you’re so calm. You’ve been accused of murder yet you say no harm’s been done!’
‘It hasn’t, though it was a bit sticky there until I found your mum’s letter. The CID are satisfied, they left, and I’m just relieved to see that you’ve got your old spark back.’
‘Oh Dad. I wish Mum would come home.’
‘Now don’t go all maudlin on me again. She might and she might not, I don’t know.’
‘I’m surprised that Davy and Paul haven’t been round to see us.’
‘I told them you had food poisoning and knowing those two, they’re waiting until they think you’re fully recovered before turning up, expecting to be fed.’
‘Well they can think again,’ Carol said indignantly.
Frank looked at his daughter, sure that she was going to be all right now. She’d be able to look after this place and hopefully her cooking would improve. As for Mabel Povis, if she was the culprit she was probably shaking in her shoes now expecting him to retaliate, and it served her right. He’d prolong it – leave her to stew until he was good and ready to sort her out.
It was now mid-June and Tommy was pleased with the way business was going. Though initially reluctant to let his mother take over the books, she kept the accounts efficiently, leaving him more time to concentrate on building up custom. Profits were already up and he’d just gained a contract to supply all the windows for a new build of twenty houses that were near completion.
His mother hadn’t apologised, but thankfully Amy hadn’t mentioned it again. He hoped that one day there could be some sort of relationship between Amy and his mother, but at the moment any mention of apologising or inviting Amy to the house caused hysterics. Tommy knew he was taking the coward’s way out, but until his mother’s emotions were less raw, he was leaving things as they were.
Since his father had left they hadn’t heard from him; not a letter, or a phone call, and with the business to run Tommy was relieved that he’d only had a couple of mild asthma attacks. If he had a bad spell that kept him in bed, at least he now felt confident that Len would be capable of handling things until he was on his feet again. However, Len would need help for the installations and after a hectic day on Thursday, he said to his mother, ‘I’m going to employ another couple of glaziers, along with buying two more vans.’
‘It’ll make a huge dent in our profits. Can’t you manage with one man and a van?’
‘Not with this new contract. As it is, Len and I are already at full stretch.’
‘Very well, I’ll allow it, but if nothing else comes up by the time the work is finished, you’ll have to dismiss them. I’m not paying out wages for men to sit around doing nothing.’
Tommy was close to the end of his tether. He’d been patient, had let his mother handle the accounts, but she was overstepping the mark lately and he had to put a stop to it. ‘Mother, I don’t need your permission to employ men, nor do you pay their wages.’
‘How dare you speak to me like that! I’m your mother and I have every right to have a say in the running of the business. I make up Len’s pay-packet, handle his tax and insurance, and therefore I know just how much extra staff will affect our profit margins.’
Tommy only just managed to stem his temper but he couldn’t hold back the barb. ‘Our profit margins? I think you’re forgetting that Dad handed the business over to me.’
‘That’s it, rub it in, add to my humiliation by pointing out that I have to rely on you to support me,’ she cried, tears imminent now.
‘Mother, that wasn’t my intention. I appreciate that you keep the accounts, and we agreed on a monthly salary. I also quite rightly pay you for my keep so I don’t feel that I’m supporting you.’
She sniffed, but her eyes were still moist and she dabbed at them delicately with a lace-edged handkerchief and said croakily, ‘I’m glad to hear that.’
Tommy sighed. He wanted to say more, to tell his mother that she had to let him run the business his way, without interference, but he’d never been able to handle her when she was tearful.
He’d leave it for now; and anyway, it was Amy’s birthday next week and when he told his mother what he intended to do, she’d probably have another bout of histrionics.
Amy hadn’t given up on Carol, and when it came out that her mother had walked out, it went some way to explaining – along with her illness – the state Carol had been in.
As the weeks had passed Amy still saw Carol as often as she could, though she now felt the widening distance between them. They had once been so close, like sisters, but Carol now seemed far older than her eighteen years.
As she wasn’t seeing Tommy that night, Amy was with Carol now and where once they had talked about boys, fashion, and the latest music, these days Carol’s only conversation seemed to be about cooking and housework. Of course she still ranted occasionally about Mabel Povis, but the once-nosey woman was a shadow of her former self and was rarely seen peeping through her curtains these days.
As though aware of Amy’s thoughts, Carol said, ‘People round here don’t like snitches, and after what Mabel Povis did to my dad, she’s been ostracised. Your mum’s the only one who has any time for her now.’
‘I think my mum feels sorry for her.’
‘Well she shouldn’t. That woman accused my dad of murder and he could have ended up in prison.’
‘I know and I’m not sticking up for her. I think my mum’s mad too, but she’s so soft-hearted and when Mabel Povis turned up at our door, crying, she let her in.’
‘She came here too, trying to say she was sorry, but unlike your mum, my dad slammed the door in her face,’ Carol snapped.
They