Chapter 29: Linda Booth

Ashford: Friday, September 26th

‘Hi, Linda. This is Karen.’ Richard was smiling but felt the flush of heat in his face. He couldn’t understand why he was self-conscious in front of his cousin but he was. ‘Is it okay if she comes with us to Mrs Shuttleworth’s? We’re going on to the flicks after.’

Linda was reading. ‘Hi, Karen. Course it is. Gran loves visitors.’ She glanced up and then back to her book. Then she looked again, staring at the girl standing next to her cousin, her smile frozen on her face. George Worth’s … Shuttleworth’s daughter. She closed her book. ‘We’ve met, haven’t we?’ She forced the words out. How the hell could this happen? Nothing had, could have, prepared her for this. She put her book on the arm of the chair and shifted forward onto the edge of the seat. ‘You’re the daughter, aren’t you?’ she said. ‘You’re Harriet Worth’s daughter?’

‘Yes.’ Karen response was wary, the smile strained.

There was something in her eyes that Linda couldn’t make out. A plea? For what?

As though sensing the tension between the girls Richard touched Karen’s hand. She gripped his fingers.

‘Hey, what am I missing, here? Linda? Karen?’ His stare switched from one to the other.

‘Nothing,’ Linda said, brightly.

‘You two know one another, then?’

Never one to beat around the bush, Linda thought. ‘Karen’s mother’s one of my mums at the moment. She’s had a little boy.’ How had she made her voice so jolly? ‘Actually, a big bouncing boy.’

‘Gosh, of course, you work in Maternity, don’t you?’ He pulled Karen to him. ‘Coincidence, eh?’

‘Coincidence.’ Linda said, hoping her laugh didn’t sound as artificial as it felt.

‘Auntie and Uncle not around?’

‘No. Dad’s at the bakery and Mum’s gone shopping for new shoes. Tea?’ She attempted to get up from the chair but she was trembling. She willed it to stop.

‘I’ll make it,’ Richard said. ‘After all, I’m a modern man.’

Both smiled, smiles that faded once he’d left the room. Karen seemed rooted to the spot. She adjusted the strap of her shoulder bag, not quite meeting Linda’s eyes.

‘Sit down,’ Linda said. It wasn’t the girl’s fault her father was a bastard. What he’d done to her was years before she was even born. And yet, by her being here, in their house … their home, made Linda feel sick. She gulped. ‘I’m sorry, I need to…’ She lurched out of the chair, almost fell. Karen caught her by the arm.

‘Steady. You all right?’

Linda shook her off; even the touch of her fingers made her skin crawl. ‘Get off.’

Karen stepped back. She looked frightened. ‘Sorry.’

Linda saw the fear. ‘No, I’m sorry.’ She pressed her lips together, waiting for the swirling sickness to settle. ‘I think I’m okay now.’ She counted three deep breaths: in through the nose, out of the mouth. Something she’d learned long ago to stop the panic after the nightmares. She let Karen help her back into the chair. They stared at one another in silence.

In the kitchen Richard was whistling. He suddenly burst out into song: ‘Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme.’ There was the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing. ‘She’ll be a true love of mine.’

‘He’s happy,’ Linda said. She hoped he would stay that way. ‘Does Richard know what he’s like…’ she couldn’t say his name. ‘Your father?’

‘I’m sorry about my stepfather.’ Karen flushed. ‘You know, at the hospital. The way he—’

They’d both spoken at the same time.

‘Your stepfather? He’s not your dad then?’ Linda was shocked by the relief she felt; she knew how much Richard liked this girl. Her not being his real daughter made it easier somehow.

‘No, I’m glad to say.’ This time she looked straight at Linda. ‘He’s horrible. A bully.’

‘Well I won’t disagree there.’ Linda was calmer now. ‘How long have your mum and him been married?’

‘Dad died when I was ten.’ Karen said. ‘George worked for him. Then, before I knew, it he was always around the house. They married…’ she stopped to think, ‘about five years ago. I can’t believe how much Mum dotes on him.’

‘Or is afraid of him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you frightened of him?’ It was like prodding a tooth that ached.’ Linda couldn’t help it. She watched Karen closely.

‘Yes.’

‘Does Richard know what he’s like?’ It was important; somehow she had to warn him, make sure he was on his guard. Understood what the man was capable of. Understood who he was. But was it up to her to do that? Ted – her dad, she corrected herself – and her mother hadn’t said she had to keep it secret. But when they’d finished telling her everything it was almost an implicit understanding between them that she would. So all she could do was to find out if Richard realised the man was dangerous. ‘Does he?’

‘A bit. I’ve told him some things. But they haven’t met. I don’t want them to.’

‘That’ll be difficult.’ Linda crossed her arms. ‘If you carry on going out together, I mean.’

‘Perhaps.’ Karen sounded wary and still hadn’t sat down, holding her bag in front of her as though for protection.

She’s just a kid, Linda thought, she hasn’t a clue what that man did. Any more than Richard knew what his father had done. Gooseflesh rose on her arms. Oh hell, it was all such a mess. She wished Ted and her mum were here. No, just her dad; he’d know what to do, what to say. She glanced at the clock; he’d be at the bakery for at least another four hours. She was on her own with this.

‘Nearly ready, isn’t it,’ Richard shouted from the kitchen. ‘Couldn’t find the sugar.’

‘I don’t take sugar,’ Linda spoke automatically. Unease rested just below her ribs. ‘Nor me,’ Karen said.

‘No, but I do.’ There was a tinkle of spoon in cups. He was singing again. ‘Silence like a cancer grows…’ He appeared balancing three cups and saucers on a tray, a tea towel over his shoulder. ‘The singing waiter,’ he announced, ‘Mamas and Papas: “people hearing without listening…”’ He took one cup off the tray and presenting it to Linda in an extravagant manner before straightening up. He looked at them. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ they both said.

‘Okay,’ he said, drawing the word out.

It was plain to Linda that he didn’t believe them, so she gave a small laugh. ‘I was just saying you had a dreadful singing voice and Karen was sticking up for you.’

‘Oh.’ He grinned. ‘I’ll have you know I’m auditioning to be a member of the Beatles, cousin dearest.’ He passed a cup to Karen and winked at her. ‘Before we go, Lin, do you think Uncle Ted’d mind if I just ring home?’

‘Don’t be daft, ’course not.’ Linda put her cup on the coffee table. ‘Let me just get my shoes first, then you can have some privacy.’ She went into the hall. ‘We’ll have our tea and then we really should be going.’

Reaching up to take her jacket from the stand she stopped, holding on to it. How was she going to tell Gran who Karen was?