sorry,’ Sarah said as she tried to pull herself together. ‘Can I walk back through the park with you?’
‘Of course you can, though when we get to the gates, I don’t want any of this mushy long goodbye stuff … just a quick wave and a “see you later”. OK?’
‘All right,’ Sarah reluctantly agreed. She knew she was going to mourn Mr Sayers for a long time to come. As they walked through the park, she wondered what would happen to him. If he really was going to see his Dulcie again, would he be able to get a message to her dead brother?
Annie drew a long breath on the roll-up she’d made from old dog-ends that Sarah had collected off the streets. She sat at the kitchen table, irritated at the thought that at any minute the front door would fly open and her children would be home.
Eddy had just left and given her a jug of beer. She poured some into a tin cup and drank quickly in the hope of getting rid of the disgusting taste he’d left. She hadn’t wanted him to finish in her mouth but he’d forcefully held her head to his manhood and had almost choked her. She had thought of biting down, that would have taught the bugger a lesson, but then he’d have been annoyed with her and wouldn’t have given her the beer. So, with little choice, she’d been compliant, but if he wanted that again, she’d demand gin next time.
‘Hello, Mum,’ Sarah said, sounding subdued as she came in, holding Tommy in one arm and a bunch of rhubarb in the other.
Annie managed a grunt, but she couldn’t be bothered to get into a conversation with the girl. Tommy flashed her a wide smile. The brazen little brat, she thought as she glared at him, and was pleased to see him turn his head and bury it in Sarah’s shoulder.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve had anything to eat, have you, Mum?’ Sarah asked.
Annie didn’t bother to answer.
‘I’ll take that as a no then. I’m making me and Tommy some stewed rhubarb. Do you want some?’
Annie rolled her eyes and shook her head. No, she bloody didn’t want any rhubarb. Just the thought of it made her want to heave.
‘Oh, Mum, you’ve got to eat. You’re so thin, come on, it’ll do you good.’
Here she goes again, Annie thought, her righteous daughter, nagging and mithering as usual. Annie didn’t want to hear it. She scraped her chair back, then grabbed her coat and walked to the front door.
She heard Sarah say, ‘Mum … where are you going?’ but didn’t bother to turn around.
‘Out,’ Annie snapped back. She had enough coins in her purse to visit the pub. She knew she wasn’t welcome in there, but anything was better than sitting indoors and watching her bastard son stuff his face with Sarah fussing over him. If Sarah had dumped the brat when he’d been born she wouldn’t have to keep looking at him. Every time she saw his face, she wanted to punch it in. The little bleeder looked just like his father, and that was a face she’d sooner forget.
Ten minutes later, Annie pushed open the door to the pub and was immediately hit by the smoky atmosphere. She made her way to the bar, ignoring the snide comments from men in flat caps supping on their ales.
‘A large gin, straight, and half a beer,’ Annie said to the landlord.
‘Let me see your money first, Annie,’ the man demanded.
‘You know I’m good for it, Cyril, but …’ She pulled some coins from her purse and slapped them down on the counter.
Cyril nodded and proceeded to pour her drinks, and as Annie waited, she caught sight of a woman in the mirrored wall behind the bar. The woman could have been very attractive with her long, dark hair and olive skin. Her black eyes gave her an exotic look, but she appeared old and haggard. With a jolt, Annie realised she was staring at her own reflection. She hadn’t recognised herself.
Cyril placed the drinks in front of her, and she quickly knocked back the gin. How had it come to this, she thought, looking again at the aged image of herself. Men had used and abused her as far back as she could remember, but now she thought she had the upper hand. Surely it was her using them? She was in control, sleeping with them for what she could get. Granted, it wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep a roof over her head and fill her belly with beer.
The trouble was, it had also filled her belly with three kids. Two had lived and she despised and resented them. They had different fathers, but she hated both men equally. Sarah’s dad, Ron Lyons, had been her first love. When they’d got together, he was a married man, but had promised to leave his wife and marry her. She’d been fool enough to believe him, only to be dumped at sixteen as soon as she’d told him she was pregnant. Now every time she looked at her daughter, she saw Ron’s emerald- green eyes looking back at her. As for Tommy’s dad … a shudder went down her spine when she thought of him. The man was pure evil and she regretted the day she’d ever breathed the same air as him.
Annie took a large swig of the beer and belched loudly. A short, balding man who was standing next to her offered a smile. ‘Bloody rotten, this ale. I think Cyril needs to give his pipes a good clean,’ he said with a chuckle.
Annie eyed him up and down. He looked well fed, with a paunchy stomach, and he had a good pair of shoes on, not like the other men in the bar with their work boots and braces. She noted his hands and clean finger nails. He couldn’t be a manual worker, and she guessed he probably had a few quid in his pocket.
‘Yeah, you’re right there. I should stick to the gin,’ she replied. ‘I’m Annie. I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before?’
‘Philip,’ the man answered. ‘I don’t get out much these days, but many moons ago, Cyril and I used to be in the army together.’
‘Philip, you say, like the Prince? Oh, I say, pleasure to meet you,’ Annie said, trying her best to be charming as she gave a mock curtsey.
‘Ha, yes, that’s right, though I’m no prince.’
‘Well, you look pretty dapper compared to the blokes in here,’ Annie said with a seductive smile.
‘Thank you. It’s been a long time since anyone has flattered me so I think that deserves a drink. Cyril, I’ll have another, and I think this young lady would like a large gin, if I’m not mistaken?’
‘Lady, blimey! You ain’t no prince and I ain’t no lady, but I like the “young” bit!’
‘Well, you’re a lady tonight,’ Philip said and clinked his glass against Annie’s.
‘So why don’t you get out much?’ she asked.
‘It’s the wife. She’s ill, bedridden in fact, so I spend a lot of time looking after her.’
‘Oh, I see. I bet it’s been a while since you’ve had a bit of fun then?’ Annie asked as pound signs flashed in front of her eyes.
Philip looked a bit taken aback and laughed before he answered. ‘I suppose it has.’
‘Don’t be shy with me, Philip. I’m a broad-minded lady and for the right price, I could show you a good time.’
Cyril leaned over the bar and said quietly, ‘Oi, I’ll have none of that in here, Annie. I’ve warned you about it before. Either stop touting for business or sling your hook.’
Philip intervened, saying equally quietly, ‘Don’t be like that, Cyril. Annie seems like a lovely lady and was only offering to keep me company.’
‘If you say so,’ Cyril answered cynically, ‘but if there’s any funny business going on, I’d prefer it not to be under my roof.’
‘Tell you what, Philip, how about we go back to my place,’ Annie offered, loud enough