mother looked more like her old self. She was dressed, with her hair tidy and even managed a small smile as she said, ‘Hello, Thomas. How was your day?’
‘It was fine and I took on another glazier.’
‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Thomas? You’re inexperienced at running a business and there’s a lot to learn. You’ll have profit margins to deal with, overheads, and of course the accounts.’
‘I know all that, Mum,’ Tommy said; a little irritated that his mother was already questioning his abilities. He’d seen the mess his father had made of the books, and there’d been numerous cases of under-quoting which wouldn’t happen now that he was in charge.
‘I’m not criticising you, darling. It’s just that I’d like to help. If I take over most of the paperwork, such as the accounts, wages and invoicing, you won’t be tied up with office work.’
‘There’s no need. I can manage.’
‘Don’t be difficult, Thomas. You’re father is intelligent, but he could never grasp arithmetic and was treated like a dunce at school, so much so that he was ashamed and tried to hide his problem. I of course found out about it and had he accepted my help, the business would have been more successful.’
‘I haven’t got his problem and I’m perfectly capable of handling the office work.’
‘I’m sure you are. It’s just that I want to be involved with building up the business and I insist that you accept my help.’
‘No, Mum. Thanks for the offer, but it won’t be necessary,’ Thomas said firmly but then seeing her face suffuse with anger, he quickly back-pedalled, adding, ‘at least,
not at the moment. If my plans to expand are successful and I take on more staff, then yes, your help will be invaluable.’
She looked a little mollified and said, ‘Very well, we’ll leave it for now, but bring the account books home tomorrow and I’ll take a look at them.’
‘There’s no need for that. Everything is up to date.’
‘Don’t argue with me, Thomas. I said bring them home and I meant it. Now, no doubt you’re hungry so I’ll see to your dinner.’
Thomas wasn’t happy and felt that unless he stood up to his mother, she would end up trying to take over the business. He wasn’t going to put up with that, but at
the moment she was still too vulnerable for him to make a stand. Not only that, he still had to tell her about his father and Rose.
He ran both hands over his face and decided to leave it for a couple of days. It might be cowardly, but for now he was in no mood to put up with any more of his mother’s histrionics. At the moment she was calm, her old bossy self, but once told, it was sure to set her back – and that wasn’t something he was looking forward to.
On Friday morning Mabel did a bit of housework, upstairs and down, occasionally putting a glass to the wall. Though she had heard Frank Cole’s voice, along with Carol’s before he left for work, since then there had been nothing but silence.
At eleven she went to see Phyllis to voice her suspicions and she was now a bit miffed that her friend was laughing at her. ‘I’m telling you, when Carol was in hospital, Frank kept his curtains drawn. He was acting strangely, keeping out of sight as though he was hiding something.’
‘That doesn’t mean that he’s done his wife in,’ Phyllis said, chuckling.
‘You may think I’m daft,’ Mabel said indignantly, ‘but I’m telling you there’s something funny going on. All right, maybe I’ve let my imagination run riot, but nonetheless, I still haven’t seen, nor have I heard, a sound from Daphne Cole.’
‘Mabel, she’s ill so that’s hardly surprising.’
‘Carol was worse but she’s all right now.’
‘I don’t think she’s fully recovered. Amy went to see her when she came home from work yesterday, but Carol was asleep and still was an hour later. Amy would have tried again, but Tommy arrived to take her out.’
‘Carol’s still able to speak – I heard her this morning, but her mother seems to have been struck dumb.’
‘Daphne has probably got something else along with the food poisoning, perhaps tonsillitis.’
‘It’s possible I suppose, but as Carol’s home, you could go along to see her and at the same time ask how her mother is,’ Mabel wheedled.
‘Why me? Why don’t you go?’
‘Because Daphne Cole hasn’t got any time for me, nor has her daughter; I doubt I’d get over the doorstep.’
‘As it happens, now that Frank has gone back to work, I was going along later to see if Daphne needs anything, a bit of shopping maybe.’
‘Good, and once you find out what’s going on, you can pass it on to me.’
‘Yes, all right, if only to prove to you that nothing sinister has happened. Oh, and by the way, Amy told Tommy about his dad and Rose.’
‘She did! Did he go potty?’
‘No, not at all, and he doesn’t blame Amy, though he’s decided not to tell his mother for a couple of days. Apparently he thinks she’s still too fragile.’
‘Fragile! Celia Frost! Huh, that’ll be the day.’
‘Her husband went off with another woman, and that’s enough to knock anyone for six.’
‘It wouldn’t bother me. With my Jack being so quiet I’d hardly miss him.’
‘You don’t really mean that, Mabel.’
‘Maybe you’re right, but it isn’t something I’d ever have to worry about. Jack would rather read a book than go in for a bit of slap and tickle, with me, or another woman.’
‘Here, have another cup of tea,’ Phyllis said as she picked up the pot.
‘I won’t say no, but then I’d best be off,’ she replied, and it wasn’t long before Mabel was in her own house again with a glass pressed to the wall. Still nothing from the Coles’ house – not a sound.
Mabel’s lips tightened. Laugh at her or not, if Phyllis didn’t get to see Daphne Cole that day, she was going to take her suspicions to the police.
At one time, the thought of staying at home every day, doing nothing but housework and cooking, would have horrified Carol. Now though, when her father had suggested it last evening, she had listlessly agreed.
She had got up that Friday morning, but had done nothing, not even bothering to wash and dress. She was so depressed that the thought of doing anything was too much of an effort and the dust remained on every surface. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered any more.
When there was a knock on the door, Carol didn’t get up to answer it. But whoever it was wouldn’t go away, the knocks becoming more persistent, and then the letterbox lifted, a voice calling, ‘Daphne, Carol, are you there?’
Carol recognised the voice – it was Amy’s mum. As she called out again, it was obvious that Phyllis wasn’t going to go away. ‘Daphne, Carol, are you all right?’
Sighing, she got up and partially opened the door, following her father’s instructions as she said, ‘My mum isn’t here. She’s gone to look after a sick relative.’
‘Oh, dear, is that your gran?’
‘No, it’s a great aunt who lives in Kent,’ she lied.
‘Carol, are you