John just gawked at Derek for a moment, the colour draining from his face. He then stood up, flung back his chair and without a word, he dashed out of the room.
‘Did you have to put it like that?’ Pearl said angrily. ‘Couldn’t you have softened it a bit?’
‘I don’t see how. It’s what Kevin did and, as you pointed out, someone in Battersea is sure to bring it up, and I doubt they’ll do it delicately.’
Though Pearl acknowledged the truth of Derek’s words, she was still angry. ‘I’ll go after John, tell him that Kevin’s changed, that he’s a different person, a good man who wants to set up a refuge for the homeless.’
‘You can make Kevin sound like a saint, but I ain’t so easily fooled,’ Derek called after her as she left the room.
In Battersea, Lucy cleared the table. She hoped that Clive would be happy playing with his toy soldiers for a while as she began to take up the sleeves on a jacket. The alteration wasn’t going to make her much money, but at least it was something. She needed more sewing, more clients, but with a sinking heart Lucy knew that even if she spent all day stitching, it was never going to make her a fortune.
What she still needed at the moment, and desperately, was the money she was owed from working in Bessie’s shop. Take today for instance. Instead of a bit of cheap meat, like belly of pork for their Sunday dinner, all she could make was a pot of vegetable stew.
Unable to concentrate on the sewing, Lucy threw it down. The trouble was that even if she somehow got her pay, once spent there’d be nothing to replace it now that the shop was closed and her job gone.
After shedding so many tears when Paul died, Lucy wasn’t one for crying nowadays, but still her eyes welled up at the thought of attending another funeral, this time Bessie’s. She had no idea what arrangements had been made and so far Pearl hadn’t been in touch to let her know. She’d have to ring Pearl in Winchester, but that meant going to the telephone box and paying for a long distance call. With a heavy sigh, Lucy ran her hands through her hair. She just couldn’t afford it … but then it struck her that she still had the keys to Bessie’s shop. She’d go there to use the telephone, and under the circumstances, surely there was nobody who would mind.
Lucy finished the jacket and put it to one side ready for collection. ‘Come on, Clive,’ she called. ‘Get your coat on. We’re going out.’
Derek didn’t like the way he was feeling, the direction his mind was taking him, but now that Kevin had been released the past was coming back to haunt him. He could remember the day that Pearl had married Kevin Dolby, her belly already rounded in pregnancy. She had been besotted by him, madly in love, only to have her illusions shattered when Kevin had been convicted of robbery with violence.
If it hadn’t been for the fact that they were moving back to Battersea, he doubted Pearl would have told John the truth about Kevin, but for the life of him Derek couldn’t understand why. Was it because she was still in love with Kevin? Was that it? Had she been hanging on to some sort of long-held dream – a dream that when Kevin was released they’d get back together, with John in ignorance of what his father had done?
No, no, of course Pearl didn’t want that, Derek told himself. He was being stupid, his fears arising out of his own stupid insecurities. Instead of worrying about the past, he should be thinking about the future: though Pearl had inherited Bessie’s shop and flat, he still had to find work.
The telephone was ringing and with everyone but Nora upstairs, Derek went to answer it. It was Lucy Sanderson asking about Bessie’s funeral arrangements. He told her it was to be held on Friday, where and when, said they’d see her there and then ended the call.
As Derek replaced the receiver, Pearl came downstairs, her face pale and drawn. He held out his arms and she walked into them to lay her head on his chest as she spoke. ‘I didn’t make Kevin sound like a saint. I just told him what Bernie said – that he thinks Kevin has changed – but John doesn’t want to know. He said from now on, he’s only got one father, and that’s you.’
‘Are you happy with that?’ he asked.
‘Of course.’
To Derek her reply sounded terse, and his irrational fear of losing Pearl rose again as he blurted out, ‘Do you love me?’
She leaned back to look up at him. ‘You know I do.’
‘Say it then.’
She looked puzzled. ‘What’s brought this on?’
‘Just say it, Pearl.’
‘For goodness’ sake, I love you, Derek Lewis. There, are you satisfied?’
‘I would be if it sounded like you meant it.’
‘This is ridiculous and after seeing the state John was in I’m not in the mood for this,’ Pearl said as she pushed his arms away. ‘Now I’ve told you I love you, and maybe after all these years of marriage I don’t say it enough, but neither do you.’
Derek hung his head. ‘Yeah, you’re right and I’m sorry. It’s just that with Kevin being released and all this talk of him turning over a new leaf, I thought you might want to go back to him.’
Pearl’s eyes widened, her voice high as she cried, ‘Are you mad? Not only did he almost kill a defenceless old man, while awaiting trial he was also accused of raping a young woman. She had no proof so the charge was dropped, but as I’d once had a taste of Kevin’s perverted idea of lovemaking, I knew she was telling the truth.’
There was a gasp of horror and they both turned to see John standing behind them on the stairs. He stood frozen for a moment, a look of sheer horror on his face and then, as he had done earlier, he fled.
‘Oh no!’ Pearl cried. ‘Derek, he must have heard everything.’
Nora appeared, her face creased with confusion as she asked, ‘What matter, Pearl?’
‘You see to Nora and leave John to me,’ Derek said. ‘I’ll go and speak to him.’
Pearl nodded, looking sick with worry, while Derek was inwardly raging. So it was true – Kevin was a rapist, and thinking of his sick, evil hands on Pearl, Derek wished that he was standing in front of him now.
His huge fists clenched – fists he hadn’t used since his days as a boxer, fists he had never used outside of the ring, yet all he wanted now was to use Kevin Dolby as a punchbag.
Chapter Eleven
It was Friday and Dolly was growing impatient. Eleven days had passed since Kevin’s release but he hadn’t been to see them again. She had no idea how to contact him and cursed herself for not thinking to ask for his friend’s address and telephone number in Ealing.
‘I still feel a bit odd,’ Bernie complained. ‘I hope I’m not losing it like my father when he was around my age. Maybe I should see the doctor.’
‘I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,’ Dolly agreed. She’d been crushing a half of one of her pills to mix into Bernie’s tea in the mornings, but wasn’t worried about him seeing the doctor. In fact she could just imagine how the consultation would go. The doctor would ask Bernie what the problem was and he’d voice his worries, list vague symptoms: that he lacked energy, felt tired, and that his head felt sort of muzzy. It was hardly enough for the doctor to diagnose anything, let alone the onset of early senility.
‘My head feels a bit clearer so I think I’ll leave it for now.’
‘Suit yourself,’ Dolly told him, already planning her next move. The last few days had been a trial run, one with unexpected results. Bernie thought that he was going senile and she could play on that to gain control of him – and the purse strings again.
Kevin would be so grateful when she gave him a large donation for the refuge,