not trying to rub it in,’ Dave argued. ‘I feel rotten about it too, but if you remember, after finding out what he did to Carol, neither of us wanted anything to do with him.’
‘He was still our dad!’ Paul yelled.
Carol knew that Paul was more sensitive than Dave and this was hitting him badly, his grief manifesting in anger. ‘I … I suppose you think I should’ve given him another chance,’ she said, tears welling in her eyes as she looked up at him.
Perhaps it was seeing her distress, Carol didn’t know, but the anger seemed to drain from Paul as he shook his head. ‘No, we couldn’t risk that, but if me and Dave had looked for him, maybe we could’ve got him off the booze and back on his feet.’
‘It’s no good dwelling on if’s and maybe’s,’ Dave said. ‘We’ve got to live with the choices we made, and anyway, we weren’t Dad’s keepers.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Paul agreed, and as though grateful to find things to assuage his guilt he added, ‘If anything, everything went pear-shaped for Dad when Mum left him.’
‘I still can’t make sense of why she walked out, nor why we haven’t heard from her since,’ Dave mused. ‘We didn’t try to find Dad, but we could try looking for her.’
‘Let’s get Dad sorted out first,’ Paul said. ‘We’ve got to identify him and then we’ve got to collect his belongings from the police station.’
‘What’s the point? All he probably had were the stinking clothes he was found in.’
‘I know, but there might be some small thing we’d like to keep, perhaps his wedding ring.’
‘He probably flogged it for booze ages ago,’ Dave said.
‘Maybe, but it might be something he hung on to, and then there’s the funeral to arrange.’
‘Mum should be there,’ Dave argued.
Paul heaved a sigh. ‘I doubt we’d find her in time … if at all.’
‘We should still give it a try.’
‘All right, but we can’t do anything tonight. Not only that, the copper said we should go to the morgue in the morning so before we do anything else, we’ll need to get that over with first.’
Carol closed her eyes against her brother’s words. Morgue, they were going to the morgue, where in her imagination they would see her father laid out on a cold slab. It hit her then. Her dad was dead. She began to cry – not for the man who had almost raped her – but for the father she had loved.
The scaffolding was being taken down outside when Amy left for work on Wednesday morning, a little earlier than usual. The men’s wolf-whistles and cheeky comments followed her as she hurried up the hill, but Amy was too worried about Carol to pay them any mind.
She feared that something dreadful must have happened to Carol’s dad and walked as fast as she could, arriving at the flat on Lavender Hill out of breath. Carol let her in, eyes red-rimmed and her face pale as she told Amy that her father was dead.
Amy was shocked, and stammered, ‘Oh, Carol, I’m so sorry.’
‘None of us are going to work today,’ Carol said as Amy followed her upstairs. ‘Dave and Paul are going to arrange the funeral, but I doubt it’ll take place before Christmas.’
The brothers nodded a greeting as Amy walked into their living room, where she said again, ‘I … I’m so sorry to hear about your dad.’
‘At least this’ll give the gossips something else to talk about,’ Carol said bitterly. ‘Paul wants to invite Dad’s old mates to the funeral, ones he worked with or drank with in the local pub, so the news will soon spread.’
‘I’ll come, and I’m sure my parents will too,’ Amy said.
‘Thanks, I’d like that,’ Carol said, her composure wavering as she blinked back tears.
‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Amy asked.
‘I don’t think so, but it’s good of you to offer,’ Carol croaked.
As the conversation died out, Amy felt awkward, and inadequate. She didn’t know what to say, how to offer any words of comfort. They had just lost their father and must be inconsolable. Paul flopped onto the sofa, put an arm around Carol and she leaned against him.
Amy felt that her presence was intrusive and said softly, ‘I’d better go or I’ll be late for work.’
Carol nodded, and telling them not to get up, Amy let herself out, her heart heavy with sadness.
Celia carried a tray up to Thomas and placed it across his lap. ‘Jeremy has gone to the unit again. He left half an hour ago.’
‘I’ve told him there’s no need.’
‘Darling, he’s just keeping an eye on things for you … making sure the men don’t slack while you’re away.’
‘Len Upwood is a good foreman and if needed, which I doubt, he’s perfectly capable of keeping them in line.’
‘I know, but I think Jeremy is getting restless and it gives him something to do.’
‘Well, as long as he doesn’t get in the way, I suppose it’s all right,’ Thomas said. ‘Anyway, I feel a lot better today so I think I’ll get up.’
Celia decided that it was time to start acting on Jeremy’s plan and said, ‘The living room has barely warmed up yet so eat your breakfast and stay there for a while. It’ll be nice for Amy to see that you’re up when she calls in, and Jeremy won’t have to be a chaperon any more. Not that he minds, he’d do anything for you, and Amy must like him as she seems to hang on to his every word. I think Jeremy finds it a little embarrassing, but it’s been lovely
of him to keep Amy company for you while you’ve been so ill.’
With that, Celia left the room, telling Thomas that she’d be back for his tray in a little while. She’d made her opening shot – and from the frown she’d seen on Thomas’s face, it had hit the target.
‘I’m sorry, Rose. It’ll just be me and Stan on Christmas day,’ Phyllis told her cousin when as usual, before starting the housework, they were sharing a cup of tea. ‘Celia Frost has invited Amy to her place for dinner.’
‘You don’t look too happy about it.’
‘I’m not. We always spend Christmas together and Amy should’ve refused.’
‘I doubt it was an easy choice for her. Celia Frost is going to be her mother-in-law, and knowing the woman, no doubt Amy wants to keep on her good side.’
‘Huh, I doubt she’s got one. But changing the subject, we had a policeman knocking on our door last night.’
With eyes rounding, Rose asked, ‘What did he want?’
‘Well, it was a bit odd really. As you know, Frank Cole has got two sons and the copper wanted their address. We thought they might be in trouble, so we kept shtum at first, but then he said it wasn’t a criminal matter,’ Phyllis said, pausing to drink her tea.
‘What was it then?’ Rose asked.
‘The copper wouldn’t go into details, but we got the gist that it was something to do with Frank … that he might have had an accident or something.’
‘Oh no, I hope it isn’t anything too serious,’ Rose said.
‘Stan seems to think it must be. He said if Frank was capable, he’d have got in touch