Kitty Neale

A Family Scandal


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      Jean shrugged, as she couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. Penny screamed and quickly covered her mouth with her hands. Rhona glowed. ‘Yep, he’s called Kenneth and he knows everybody, I mean everybody, and he’s going to introduce me to the band and everyone behind the scenes. So why do I care about this stupid factory?’ She tossed her hair, which she tried to style like Brigitte Bardot’s, though that wasn’t easy working in such a place. She liked it when people said she looked like the film star though – and there was a reasonable resemblance, as Rhona’s eyes were dark and wide, and her hair a similar blonde. ‘You heard it here first, folks. He might be my ticket away from all of this.’

       Chapter Two

      Tommy Wilson checked the sign at the end of the street to make sure he’d come to the right place. It wasn’t as if this was his first time in Peckham, but he wasn’t as familiar with the area as he was with his old stamping ground, Battersea, or with where he lived now, over in Wandsworth. Still, he thought as he thrust his hands in his jacket pockets against the cold, with luck he’d be seeing a whole lot more of this road. If this was where Mavis lived then this was where he wanted to be.

      He still counted himself lucky that she’d agreed to go out with him, even though they’d been dating for a year and a half. He knew Mavis was the one for him. But he’d treated her so badly when they were kids growing up on the same mean and dingy street that he wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d said she wanted nothing to do with him.

      When they’d met again as adults, it was soon clear the attraction ran deep on both sides. But the timing wasn’t right. He had just got divorced from his wife, Belinda. He hadn’t wanted to admit it but inside he’d been a mess. As for Mavis, she’d been married to that cold fish, Alec Pugh. What a useless excuse for a man he had been – or still was, wherever he was. A coward as well as a bully. Tommy clenched his fists at the memory. He couldn’t abide men who abused their physical superiority and beat women and children. He seethed at the thought of anyone laying a hand on Mavis in anger.

      He checked the numbers on the front of the houses. He was nearly there. The buildings were of three storeys, with tall windows, and it didn’t look too bad a place at all. After Alec’s disappearance, Mavis had rented a small house on Harwood Street for a couple of years, not too far from here, next to her mother and Pete. Although it was a step up from Battersea it had been too cramped for her and two growing children. But these places, even though they were still terraced, looked much bigger. Mavis had said the road had a dog-leg bend and they were in the corner of that. Here it was – just as she’d described it. The front of the house was, if anything, narrower than those around it but Mavis had said around the back, because of the bend, there was a bigger garden than those of the neighbouring properties. So it would be ideal for the kids, and she and Lily would still have lots of space for a washing line and maybe even some vegetable beds.

      Tommy smiled to himself. He couldn’t quite see Lily getting her hands dirty planting up tomatoes.

      For a moment he wondered what it would be like to work in the garden with Mavis. He’d build them a couple of raised beds, and he’d show James how to hammer them together at the corners, or maybe they could get a shed … He shook himself. First things first. He was always getting carried away with dreams of the future but before any of that could happen they had to sort out the present. He was sure Mavis felt the same way about him as he did about her, but he couldn’t blame her for being cagey. She’d been badly hurt and he had to let time take its course and heal her deep wounds.

      Again Tommy felt a surge of anger at Alec Pugh and his brutal behaviour. Calm down, he told himself. This is a day to celebrate. New house, new start. He fingered the little box he carried in his pocket and pictured Mavis’s beautiful face when she saw it.

      ‘Sure you don’t want anything stronger, sweetheart?’ asked Pete, picking up his empty pint glass and standing, stretching to ease his aching back. ‘I’ll have one more of these then we can get home. This isn’t a bad local, is it?’ He gazed around the lounge bar, all polished brass and dark wood. ‘I passed it by loads of times when we were doing the house up but never came in. See what we were missing out on.’

      ‘I’ll stick to bitter lemon,’ said Lily. She’d never been one for drinking – she’d had enough of that from her first husband who, if he wasn’t gambling away their rent money, was blowing it down the pub. ‘I like it in here. At least I’ll know where to find you from now on.’

      ‘I can’t keep away from you for long, you know that.’ Pete eyed his wife appreciatively. He was a lucky man and he knew it. He was under no illusions about his looks and yet he was married to a stunner. All those years of waiting had been worth it. He felt on top of the world. His own business, the most gorgeous woman in London and, just when he’d given up hope, a son of his very own who was the spitting image of him. A pity Bobby hadn’t inherited his mother’s head-turning looks in some ways; but Pete knew plenty of blokes who were far more handsome than him yet it hadn’t brought them happiness.

      No, when times were tough, Pete thought, it was all about character, that’s what got you through. That’s what had got him to where he was today. If anyone deserved a second pint it was him: he owned that whole house, and he’d fitted it out to keep his family safe. He pushed to the back of his mind the uncomfortable thought that it wasn’t exactly bought and paid for. He’d be able to meet the mortgage without a problem just as soon as the big construction project was confirmed, and it was well-nigh one hundred per cent certain that it would be. He was proud that his company was the front runner for it – who’d have thought a bricklayer like him could end up doing so well? No need to worry, and certainly no need to share that bit of information with Lily.

      Lily watched him, nursing her small glass in her hand. She didn’t want to admit how tired she was. Everyone said moving house was one of the most stressful things you could do, and God knew she’d had to do it often enough. This was different though: no more renting, getting by in substandard places with dodgy landlords and dodgier agents. They now had their very own place – and with Mavis safe above them, she could keep an eye on her beloved grandchildren too. Guiltily, Lily recalled how she hadn’t lavished love on Mavis when she’d been a child. She hadn’t been able to understand why her daughter had been so difficult and awkward, but nobody had heard of word blindness then. Now Lily intended to make up for it by devoting herself to James and Grace, and ensuring Bobby wanted for nothing. Blimey, fancy being a mother at her age. No wonder she was tired. She just didn’t have the energy to cope with a very active toddler and move house.

      ‘Here you go, girl.’ Pete put a glass of bitter lemon in front of her. The bright lights of the pub reflected in the cloudy liquid. ‘We might want to take our time over this. I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier. Maybe Mavis will be giving Tommy a tour of her new bedroom.’

      Lily eyed him above the rim of her raised glass. ‘No, Pete. I don’t think so.’ She sighed. ‘Mavis ain’t like me, not in that respect. Once bitten twice shy, that’s her problem, and as it was so hard fought, she doesn’t want to give up her independence.’

      ‘Yeah, I know, but Tommy won’t wait forever.’

      ‘Well nothing is going to happen at the moment, that’s for sure. Mavis is looking after the kids. Bobby will have gone to bed by now but James won’t and I bet Grace is playing up with her first night in her new room by herself.’

      ‘Ah, well.’ Pete settled on the red banquette beside her. He took a swig and got foam all over his top lip. ‘We’ll maybe make the most of our new privacy when we get home. I did those dividing walls extra careful. We won’t have neighbours with a glass to the wall this time spying on us as we did in Battersea.’ He raised his eyebrows hopefully.

      ‘You devil, Pete Culling.’ Lily felt a rosy glow spread through her. ‘And at least we don’t have to worry about making Bobby a new brother or sister. There’s advantages to this getting old malarkey after