When Zena went to do her weekly clean for Roy Roberts there was no reply to her knock. She called Doris his neighbour and was told he was in hospital. She left her cycle at his door and caught the bus to visit him, stopping to buy fruit and some chocolate on the way
She was surprised at how frail he looked. There were bruises on his face and his eyes looked weary. ‘Mr Roberts? What happened?’ she asked, although Doris had told her he’d had a dizzy spell and had fallen down the garden steps.
‘Those damned steps want cleaning, I slipped on some moss,’ he said.
‘You didn’t feel giddy or anything?’
‘No I didn’t. I slipped,’ he said firmly.
‘I’ll see to that as soon as I get back there,’ she promised, aware of his denial. He hated even a hint of his needing extra help.
They talked for a while and she promised to do the usual cleaning plus a few extra chores. ‘I can get into a few corners, with you out of my way,’ she teased. He gave her a list of shopping and insisted that, ‘Once I’m back home I’ll manage without people fussing about the place, so don’t listen to the nurses!’
She told him Jake was supposed to be coming at the weekend and that Rose would probably be with him.
‘Keep your Greg away from her. She won’t make him happy.’
‘They’ve broken up and it seems to be irrevocable, although he still has no idea why she ended it.’
‘Best he forgets her.’
‘Why do you say that? She seems pleasant enough, although Greg never felt really secure about their plans. He felt that something was holding her back. You must know something, Mr Roberts, or you wouldn’t say Greg should forget her. Can you explain why she acted in such an odd way?’
‘One day I’ll talk about it, I promise. But not now.’ He waved his splayed hands in front of her to close the subject and said, ‘Now that Susie Crane, she’s a lovely girl and I can imagine her and your Greg being very happy.’
‘I agree with you there. She’s so relaxed and easy to get along with. But I think his curiosity about Rose is holding them back. If he knew why she had so suddenly left.’ She coaxed but clearly her curiosity wasn’t going to be satisfied so she talked about her friend Nelda and the two lively children, which pleased and entertained him. She left, promising to see him on the following day, hoping to persuade him to tell what he knew about Rose that made her an unsuitable wife for Greg. He needed to get the facts so he could forget her and enjoy the bright uncomplicated happiness of Susie.
Although she knew he hadn’t really slipped on the steps, she went back and scrubbed them thoroughly, her mind on what he might tell her about Rose and hoped it would be something she should share with her brother.
Roy Roberts was in hospital for three days and when he came home it was clear that he was unwell. The bruises from his fall were changing colour as they healed but he was unable to move about without getting breathless. He went as far as the garden to look at his flowers but was tired when he got back to his favourite chair. He slept a lot more than before too, and she discussed his failing health with Doris who looked in regularly and assured her he was comfortable and well fed.
When Zena cleared some plants from the edges of the path to make sure there was no danger of him tripping over them, even though he’d hardly been outside since his stay in hospital, she found a lot of abandoned food in the bin. He clearly wasn’t eating as much as they believed.
She visited often and once dared to ask if she should write to his sons to tell them he’d been in hospital after a fall, in case they wanted to visit. He didn’t raise his voice as she half expected, he just shook his head.
‘It’s too late to hope for a joyful reunion if that’s what you’re thinking,’ he said sadly. ‘If they did come, they’d immediately start on about how cruel I was to throw them and their mother out.’ His eyes crinkled into a smile at that and added, ‘That’s another story for me to tell you one day, young Zena. I wasn’t the villain, you know, and the truth makes an interesting story. But not yet. It still makes me angry and anger is so tiring.’
‘Perhaps you ought to write it down for your sons to read one day. There must be two sides to the story of which your sons have been told only one.’
‘You believe I’m not as wicked as some think?’
‘I think you’re a kind old man and your only crime is a temper that stops you from being able to state your case coherently.’
He gave her a key before she left. ‘Just in case Doris or Kevin aren’t about to let you in.’ She tucked it in her purse and waved goodbye.
Nelda’s girls were increasingly frequent visitors to Llyn Hir. The woods and the lakeside were scenes for adventures that were made safe by the company of Zena, their mother and now the dog as well. Sam invited them to the farm on occasions. He and his father showed them around the farm and children’s delight and happiness spread around them all. The lake was the place where they had picnics and they looked longingly at the boat which was out of bounds, apart from when it was on the shore upside down to provide shelter when a shower threatened to spoil their fun.
It was Sam who suggested checking its condition to make sure it was safe to use. ‘Then, if Nelda agrees, we could introduce them to the fun of being on the water, which isn’t very deep but deep enough to be a danger. We have to make sure they understand that they must never come here on their own.’
Greg and some of his friends checked the boat which seemed perfectly sound and just needed a coat of paint. They contacted the local boatyard and they sent someone to make sure there were no hidden problems. Both of the girls were competent swimmers so they were pleased to tell the girls about the surprise that was planned.
The raft, which was still used occasionally for shopping trips, was checked regularly and was an easy way of crossing the water. If it was on the wrong side it was a simple matter to pull it across.
It was Sam who took them on their first trip around the lake accompanied by screams of delight. While Zena and Nelda watched and shouted encouragement Sam pretended to let them pull the boat back to shore.
It was the first of many visits as summer strengthened and picnics were a regular occurrence. In July, as school closed for the summer, Nelda arranged for a manager to look after her business for a month, having worked hard all winter to make sure her shelves and store cupboards were full. She took the girls to see her mother in France, and their other grandparents, then the rest of the time she was at home, dealing with the garden and taking the girls on day trips. Their favourites without doubt were the days they went to Llyn Hir. Both girls had a birthday in August and both insisted on a party at the lake.
The weather was warm and for the first time they were allowed to swim in the rather chilly water. Both Nelda and Zena went in with them and made sure the girls were between them and the little beach. A few days later they swam further with Nelda in close attendance and never far from the ropes attached to the raft reaching from shore to shore.
On what was to be their last day before school began again, confidence had grown and Georgie swam across the lake. Then to everyone’s alarm she dived below the water. Zena and Lottie struck out immediately. Georgie bobbed up waving something. ‘Look what I found!’ she shouted, ‘It’s treasure!’ Trying to hide their fright, they all swam back and Georgie showed them a purse made of soft, rotting leather with a rusty frame and fastener.
Bobbie tried to snatch it from her but Georgie was quick to run to her mother and insist the treasure was hers. They all watched as the leather was torn back to reveal the contents. Georgie was clearly disappointed. ‘It’s only a key,’ she said with a pout, throwing it onto the ground. Her sister grabbed it. ‘It’s probably the key to some treasure,’ she said and at once the girls were arguing over possession. Nelda grabbed it and handed it to Zena. ‘Yours, I think.’ Still arguing, the girls set off back to Llyn Hir. Zena looked curiously at the old purse and the rather large key. It looked similar in size to the one belonging to Roy Roberts. She would show him, perhaps he might know of a house with a similar lock to his own.
The weather continued warm and Zena went to SunnyBank and continued to do the basic cleaning one room at a time. It was a large property and had two staircases and six bedrooms, most of which were moderate in size. In every room she tackled, she washed floors and polished furniture and mirrors and picture frames until it was possible to imagine the elegantly designed, attractively furnished rooms being used. She didn’t see James Penberthy again and Karen didn’t mention him.
Then several pieces of furniture disappeared. A table from the hall, extra chairs and a cupboard that had stood close to a couch. Other pieces were moved. Where a cupboard had been placed across a window, it now stood at the back of the landing where no one passed. In two rooms rugs were taken up and put outside wrapped in sacking. The rooms didn’t look bare, they were still well furnished but less cluttered. Zena guessed that the changes were to make it easier for James Penberthy to move around his home.
One morning when she went in to start work, Karen met her at the door and asked her not to stay. ‘I’ll pay you for your time,’ she said, handing her an envelope, ‘but Mr Penberthy has a visitor and doesn’t want any interruptions. Can you come again two weeks from today, please, dear?’
Zena pocketed the money, which amounted to three weeks’ payment wondering if she should have refused it, but the door had been quickly closed. She pushed the cycle down the drive and stood for a while before setting off to relieve her mother at the shop.
She cycled slowly along the lane edged with patches of glorious summer flowers, enjoying the quiet of the morning. Before she had gone past the first bend in the lane she heard a vehicle approaching and stopped to tuck herself into the side of the narrow lane. The engine sounded powerful and was travelling fast and, when it turned the corner, she saw that it was a car followed by a large van. She let it pass. Then, with unashamed curiosity, went back to see it arrive at the door of SunnyBank.
The driver of the car stepped out and helped James Penberthy, guiding him to the steps to the front door, where the blind man stopped, turned his head as though using memory to see his way, then pushed away the man’s guiding hand and went up the steps and through the door unaided apart from a walking stick. The van was unloaded and bedroom furniture was taken into the house. Curiosity partially satisfied, Zena rode away.
She was almost at the end of the lane when both vehicles returned, no longer in a rush, and turned towards the town centre. She went into Llyn Hir and changed into something more suitable for the shop and cycled down to join her mother.
The farm van was outside the shop and she hesitated, waiting until Sam had left before going in. It was still strangely embarrassing for her to see their mother and Uncle Sam showing affection, albeit casually. She found her conversations with him stilted, uneasy and admitted to her brother that she was still half convinced that their loving relationship had begun long before their father had died and was the reason for him leaving so little to his family in his will.
Greg disagreed. ‘If that were true, why would he punish us? Surely he’d have given us a mention or at least an explanation? We did nothing to hurt him even if Mam did – which I doubt!’
Wanting to believe him, she listened and tried to understand how a long term friendship could suddenly turn to love.
Having seen Zena waiting until Sam had left, aware of her daughter’s doubts, Lottie tried to explain.
‘There have been times in our lives when your father and I needed a friend and Sam was always there. We shared his sorrow when his wife died; Mavis had been my best friend since childhood. When his son Peter drowned, we grieved with him. Losing Peter was like losing one of our own.
‘Before your father died there was nothing more. It’s only recently that we have begun to think about sharing our lives. I hope you can understand. You and Greg will be leaving soon, finding someone to love, building families of your own. I could stay here and wait for visits, getting old and more and more lonely, or I can start a new life of my own with a man who respects me and cares for us all.’ For an answer Zena stood up and hugged her mother.
When the shop closed, Zena went for a walk. The evenings were beginning to draw in but when there was a chance to sit beside the lake, it was there she went to calm troubled thoughts. Thoughts of her mother and Sam faded and she began to think about Jake. She felt a sudden regret for pushing him out of her life. Regret that was momentarily tinged with jealousy as she imagined him in the arms of Madeleine and then, shamed by her imaginings, she silently wished them both well.
Before she returned home her emotions had tilted and turned and she knew she had to talk to Jake, clear her mind of him, let him go. Fear of remaining alone, never having a family, staying with her mother and Sam were pushed aside. She would still have a good life, whether or not she married. It was nonsense to think differently. To persuade herself that marrying Jake was better than being alone, that was insulting to herself and to Jake. She decided to go to London and spend a day with him, say their final goodbyes. At that moment she fully understood how important it was for Greg to do the same regarding Rose. It would have to be soon; hanging onto something that was no more than a distorted memory was foolish and pathetic. It also presented a risk of Greg losing Susie.
When she opened the door, the telephone was ringing and it was Jake, telling her he would be there that weekend, but without either Rose or Madeleine. Her emotions did a somersault and she didn’t know whether she felt pleasure or panic. She went to see Mabs.
She was so tense that she started talking as soon as Mabs opened the door. ‘Why am I so afraid of change?’ she asked. ‘It seems Greg and I are both guilty of that. Greg can’t let Rose go even though he is so happy with Susie. I hated the thought of Mam with Uncle Sam – or anyone else – and I’ve been afraid that if I let Jake go I’ll never find anyone else.’
‘Let me tell you my news before we get onto the psychology of love.’ Zena noticed then how serious her aunt looked. ‘What’s happened? Are you all right?’
‘The café was invaded this morning, soon after I left. They ruined everything they could. And they found the money.’
‘Oh, Aunty Mabs. I’m so sorry. Are you all right? Was there much taken? How did they get in?’
‘How did they get in? – That’s why I said invaded, not burgled. They used a key. Somehow they found out where I hid the spare and they also knew where to find the money. So it’s someone I’ve trusted, isn’t it?’
‘That’s the saddest thing of all,’ Zena said. ‘One of your customers, I suppose? Only Greg knows where you keep the key, he’s told no one but me and Mam. There isn’t anyone else.’
‘You don’t know him, but there’s a man who’s been coming since your Uncle Frank and I started the night café and he’s appointed himself my guardian. Sid never leaves until I’m out of the premises and the door is locked. He watches until I’m on the bus unless Greg or Richard Thomas is there. I was late leaving this morning. To tell the truth I fell asleep and caught a later bus, and there was only a couple of hours before the day café opened. Late as it was, Sid was there until I was safely on my way. The thief must have known exactly where to look to have managed in the short time before the day staff arrived.’
‘And this Sid, he wouldn’t have been involved?’
‘Definitely not. Neither would any of the others.’
‘Some of them have been in prison—’
‘No matter. I trust them all.’
‘What do the police think?’
Mabs shook her head. ‘The night people need this place. That’s why I haven’t told the police. They would question all my regulars who would feel hurt and disappointed. I can cope with this, but hurting them would make everything ten times worse.’
Zena told Greg when he came home and asked him if he had mentioned the café’s primitive safety arrangements to anyone.
‘No, of course not.’ He frowned then added, ‘Well, I talked about it to Jake, joking about the differences between our safe and secure village and his perilous part of London. But he wouldn’t steal from Aunty Mabs and never break things for the fun of it. He’s fond of her. You know that.’
‘Of course I do, but who might he have told?’
‘Come on, Sis! I know you don’t like the woman but I can’t imagine Madeleine coming all this way to steal a few shillings.’
‘Poor Aunty Mabs. I’m going down to help clear up before the café opens. She’s done most of it, making sure everything was straight for the day café, but there’ll be shopping needed to replace what was ruined and broken, and some extra baking to do.’
‘I’ll come too and we’ll make some better arrangements regarding security.’
Once the day café closed, Mabs set about cooking scones and sausage rolls, Zena and Greg cleared up the mess left by the thief – or thieves. It was Greg who found the envelope screwed up and thrown towards the rubbish bin. It was written in Zena’s handwriting and addressed to Jake.
They discussed the mysterious find then Zena put it in her pocket and thought about the best way of facing Jake with it. Surely he wasn’t responsible for the robbery? But how her letter to him had found its way there was something that needed a good explanation.
The following Friday Jake arrived, full of apologies, explaining that his neighbour, Vera, had a hospital appointment and he couldn’t let her go on her own. ‘I’ve been helping her with shopping and all that since her accident,’ he added. He had unpacked a few belongings at the usual lodgings and had come straight to Llyn Hir.
Lottie, Greg and Zena had been sitting with a meal keeping warm expecting him to arrive at any moment. Being late was not unusual for Jake, but when an hour had passed, they ate the meal and Zena went to the pictures.
‘Can I wait till Zena gets back, Mrs Martin?’ he asked. ‘I’ve come a long way and I don’t want to go back again without talking to her.’
They chatted easily, questions and answers on life in the village, friends they shared, then Greg mentioned the robbery at Aunty Mabs’s café.
‘Is she all right? She wasn’t hurt was she?’ Jake looked alarmed but with concern for Mabs. Not, Greg decided, with any recognizable sign of guilt. ‘One of her customers, was it? There are a few doubtful characters, aren’t there?’
‘No, she doesn’t think it’s one of the people who spend their nights there. Somehow, word got out of where she keeps her money and where the spare key is hidden.’
Jake stared from one to the other. ‘No, Greg! Not me! I’d never hurt her, I’m fond of her, you know that.’
‘You knew about her casual security arrangements.’
‘I’d, I’d never tell anyone.’ Then he paused. ‘All right, I did talk about it, to Rose and Madeleine but they’d never … come all this way to steal a few pounds? It has to be one of the night people.’
‘Where was Madeleine on Thursday?’ Greg asked quietly.
‘In London. No – she was visiting friends in Aylesbury. But it can’t have been her, she was there when I went after work, we had tickets for a concert.’
‘And Rose?’ Lottie asked.
‘She didn’t want to come, she doesn’t enjoy the same music as Madeleine and me.’
‘For some reason we can’t fathom, Rose dislikes us,’ Lottie said. ‘Perhaps she—’
‘This is crazy,’ Jake interrupted. ‘Why are you looking at someone who lives in London? It has to be someone local.’
‘Find out where she was, will you, Jake?’
‘No, I won’t!’ He stood up and reached for his jacket. ‘I won’t stay here and listen to this nonsense. Please tell Zena I’ll be leaving tomorrow at ten and I’d like to talk to her.’ He left without another word.
Zena was told what had happened and at nine the following morning, before she went for her weekly visit to Roy Roberts, she called at the house where he regularly lodged and was told he was at the garage filling the car for his journey back to London.
In fact, Jake was at Llyn Hir, where Lottie told him Zena would be cleaning for Mr Roberts for the next couple of hours.
Zena waited for half an hour fingering the envelope addressed to him that had been found in the café after the robbery. Going to the pictures had been childish but the truth was she didn’t know how to show him the envelope and state their suspicions. Whatever she said would come out wrong and he would refuse to explain. He probably wouldn’t accept that it had been found where she said it had been found. Whatever he had planned to discuss with her, it had not been important enough for him to actually find her.
Jake waited at the house, then set off for London. On the way he passed the shop, which was closed. Zena had made it emphatically clear that there was nothing she wanted to discuss.
A week later, Roy Roberts mentioned to Zena her idea of recording his version of what had happened on paper. ‘I think it would be good if you will write it down as I tell it. Could you do that for me?’ She thought about it and decided she would. She collected notebooks, pens, ink, blotting paper and set off to begin. Thank heavens for her shorthand skills.
It was difficult to keep him on the subject he wanted to explain. His thoughts wandered between his childhood, which was unhappy, filled with criticism and punishments, and the life he’d dreamed of giving his own boys. He was evasive when it came to facts. At one point he turned the conversation to Rose Conelly. ‘That’s why I understand why she behaves like she does. She suffered the same kind of misery as I did. I handled it differently, that’s all.’ He looked at Zena, scribbling furiously in shorthand as she tried to preserve his outpourings. ‘She’ll never be happy, that one. She won’t forget and never tries to understand why she was treated so badly. Best to forgive even if you can’t forget.’
‘You wanted to record what happened before your wife left, taking the boys?’ she asked hopefully.
As though unaware of her question, he said, ‘Your father was a fool. He trusted people. Wouldn’t look the truth in the eye.’
She eventually got him back onto the subject and he told her that his wife accused him of having an affair with her sister, Donna. ‘Rubbish it was,’ he said, ‘and Donna told the story purely to make trouble. We were in the bedroom but that’s not a sin, is it? I was helping her to turn the mattress and we fell, laughing as I tripped over the corner. Donna went all coy and refused to confirm my explanation. Some people get their satisfaction by making trouble for others. They find happy and contented characters the most entertaining when they mess things up for them. Take that girl for example. She was so twisted with jealousy, she hated seeing people happy and—’
‘What girl are you talking about? Donna? Rose?’ It was a few moments before she looked up and saw that he was asleep.
She went in to see Doris next door and stayed for a cup of tea, popping back twice to see if Roy had woken. ‘I think I’ll go home and try to write down his thoughts another day, he’s obviously too tired to concentrate,’ Zena said. They both went for one more look and found the poor man had been sick.
‘He’s still asleep,’ Zena whispered.
Doris pulled her away from where she was trying to undo the buttons of his shirt to remove the foul-smelling garment. ‘Leave him, love. I think we need an ambulance.
Roy was taken to hospital and the next day, when she enquired, she was told he’d had a heart attack. She visited him and dared to ask if she should contact his sons to tell them he was ill, but again, he refused. ‘Their mother told her version of what happened. I’m the villain and always will be. The truth has gone for ever.’
‘Will you tell me what really happened?’
‘When I’m well enough to get out of here, we’ll talk about it. There’s maybe some of the story I can tell, but not all.’
‘Are you sure I can’t write to them?’
He shook his head. ‘They wouldn’t believe anything I told them and perhaps it’s for the best, no point in trying to persuade them that their mother was the one, not me. Not after all this time.’
Zena and Greg were walking Betty through the wood and came to the gate of SunnyBank. The house appeared to be unused, rubbish had gathered around the drive and the front door, curtains were closed and it had an abandoned look. They heard footsteps then saw a heavily built man coming from the side of the house towards them struggling with a large sack.
‘I know him. That’s Percy, one of Aunty Mab’s night people.’ Greg called and the man stopped, half-turned as though about to run, then put down his burden and waved a hand. They waited at the gate as he approached.
‘Hello, Greg, who is this lovely young lady?’ To Zena’s surprise he was beautifully spoken. ‘I hope my appearance didn’t alarm you, my dear.’
‘This is my sister. Zena, meet Percy,’ Greg said. ‘What are you doing in there? It’s private property.’
‘I’m taking my bedding away. I’ve been sleeping here during the day for a few months off and on but I heard in the post office that the tenants are coming back so I thought I’d better clear out before I’m caught.’
‘Why do you sleep in the day and go to the café at night?’ Zena asked.
‘Perhaps I will when I find a decent place but to be honest, I sleep here in the daytime because this place gives me the creeps after dark. I can’t stay here at night.’
Greg laughed. ‘A giant like you afraid of ghosts?’
‘Of course I’m not, but it isn’t a place to relax and sleep at night. Sleep comes easier in the daylight hours. Then, if you hear a noise, you can look and discover the cause. Unexplained noises hidden in darkness can keep me awake for hours.’
‘I’ve been in every corner of the house and there’s nothing creepy about it,’ Zena told him, still smiling at the thought of the large man avoiding the dark hours.
‘I’ve seen you, Miss. You’re cleaning ready for the return of the tenants, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, but they aren’t due for a few more days.’
Percy nodded agreement. ‘So I understand.’
They walked with him for a while, as he explained that he didn’t want another winter sleeping rough. ‘I’ve found a room not far from the centre of the village and I intend to visit Frankie’s café for a few hours each night. Until I can train myself out of the regular nightshifts,’ he added with a laugh.
With just a few more days before Karen and James Penberthy returned, and with only Roy Roberts’s and Nelda’s cleaning to fit in, Zena booked a train for London. She would find an hotel easily enough and would find Jake and face him with the incriminating envelope.
When she turned up at the office at 5.30 on that Friday evening, she saw him coming out and he was alone. He was overjoyed to see her, hugged her and began chattering about where they would go, what they would see, and unavoidably she was caught up in the excitement.
‘As a first step,’ he said, ‘we’ll eat. There’s a small café just around the corner and it stays open all evening so we can sit and talk, and I can get over the wonderful surprise of seeing you standing there, like a dreamed up apparition waiting for me.’ With an arm around her, smiling happily, he led her to the café.
‘What did you think of my having two weeks off with pay, from cleaning SunnyBank?’ she said, and was surprised at the lack of understanding on his face. ‘You did get my letter?’
He frowned, then said, ‘That’s generous, but why would they do that?’
‘Because they’ll be away for a couple of weeks and want to lock the house up.’
‘Great news.’
‘And what about the new customers I wrote to you about, Curtis and Sons, a large manufacturing company needing everything in the stationery line, as they were let down by their previous supplier. Isn’t it wonderful?’
‘Congratulations, I didn’t know about that.’
‘Of course you did, Jake! I wrote to tell you.’
‘Sorry, love, but you didn’t mention that. You must have forgotten.’
She decided then to tell him the truth even though he would realize she had been trying to trick him. ‘Sorry, Jake, but the truth is, Aunty Mab’s café was robbed a few days ago and we found an envelope there, one written by me and addressed to you. It had been opened, the letter was missing, and from the date, it was the one in which I told you about the unpaid weeks and the large contract.… I’m sorry!’ she said, as she saw his eyes widen with shock. ‘I’m truly sorry I tried to trick you, but I don’t trust your friends and I had to find out if you or they were involved.’
He listened in silence as she explained in detail about the theft, and about the key and the stupid arrangement of hiding the cash behind a skirting board. ‘Apart from Greg, Mam, and me, you were the only one who knew and, I’m sorry, but I thought, if you talked about it to Madeleine and—’
‘Zena, I did tell Madeleine and Rose. We were talking about the differences between living in a safe corner like Cold Brook Vale and the part of London where I live.’
‘Then it’s possible that one of them was involved?’
‘No.’
‘Not even by telling someone else? Someone who would take advantage of the information?’
‘No. They don’t mix with people who would steal. Besides, who would travel so far for such a small amount of money? It has to be one of her customers.’
‘She doesn’t believe that. Sid, one of her regulars, has appointed himself her guardian and he never leaves until he sees her get the bus or a taxi. On that day there was very little time between her leaving and the day staff coming because she fell asleep.’
‘Could it have been this Sid?’
‘Definitely not.’ She hesitated then asked, ‘Do you know where Madeleine and Rose were on that night? Thursday of last week?’
Ignoring her question he said, ‘We’ll have to leave it for the police to deal with.’
‘She didn’t call the police.’
‘So she must think it was one of her regulars.’
They argued for a while, Jake convinced it was one of the night people, and Zena unable to put aside her doubts about Rose and Madeleine.
‘All right, love. I’ll try to find out where Rose was on that night.’ He thought for a moment then shook his head. ‘No, I’m wrong. That was the night before. I didn’t see either of them on that night, but I honestly don’t think either of them capable of such a thing. Why would they?’
Zena went home the following day, convinced the visit had been a waste of time. She doubted whether Jake would question Rose or Madeleine and common sense told her he would be right not to try, it all seemed so pointless. Her mother was out and Greg was working so she went to see Mabs.
Mabs smiled an enthusiastic welcome. ‘Come and see what your Greg has arranged,’ she said grabbing a coat. ‘Come on, there’s a bus in five minutes.’ She bustled her out and refused to discuss anything until she had examined the new arrangement. The café was still open with the day clientele and Mabs waved and went through to her kitchen. She waved an arm with a ‘ta raa!’ and Zena saw a new safe built into the wall. ‘And that’s not all,’ Mabs said proudly. ‘The door has a padlock and the spare key is with a friend living around the corner.’
As it was almost time for the day café to close, Zena stayed and helped Mabs prepare for the night customers. Then they went back to Mabs’s flat and had a meal. Zena gave details of her brief visit to London and Mabs shook her head.
‘What were you thinking of, love, going all that way? It was a few pounds, definitely not worth travelling all that way to steal. Someone must have seen me pick up the key one day and had heard about my stupid hiding place and took a chance. Stop worrying about it. It’s over and won’t happen again.’
‘Why would a thief stop and destroy the food and break things? All that unnecessary damage. It was the same person who broke into our shop, it must be.’
‘It’s over,’ Mabs said, ‘Whoever it was has had their fun, it won’t happen again.’
A week later, when Mabs was closing the door on a windy, rainy morning, she hesitated about going home. The street was dark and clouds seemed to touch the rooftops. She had missed the bus and was about to go out and look for a taxi when lightning lit up the darkness and thunder rumbled and roared overhead. She would be soaked just walking to the taxi office so she decided to sit and wait for the storm to ease. She was tired and her old coat wouldn’t keep out this heavy rain. The prospect of arriving home in wet clothes didn’t appeal and comfortably settled in a chair in the kitchen, she gradually fell asleep. She roused a few times and still the storm raged around her.
A glance at the clock told her there would be a bus in a little over two hours but it was better to spend the few hours in the dry rather than struggle home in this. She gathered her coat around her, found a stool for her legs and relaxed again into sleep.
The noise of the storm drifted around her but didn’t disturb her sleep, but a small scratching sound did. She opened her eyes to find the place still dark and listened intently. Someone was at the shop door. For a moment she was afraid to move, then she slowly eased herself out of the chair and reached for a weapon. Her fingers touched a large tin of baked beans. At least it was something to throw.
With her heart racing she peered around the kitchen door into the shop. Someone outside was trying to turn the knob, and seemed to be pushing the door. There was nothing she could do. If he managed to force the door she would be trapped. The noise of the storm had lessened slightly and to her relief she heard footsteps walking around to the back of the building. Cautiously she opened the door and ran to the taxi office. ‘Police, and fast,’ she shouted as she jumped in.
The police found nothing suspicious and warned her about being there during the night hours on her own. ‘I’m not usually on my own, but Robert Thomas couldn’t come and Greg was working and—’
‘If that happens again, you must close. Do you understand? You never know who’s about these nights. What you’re doing is wonderful, Mrs Martin, but your safety is more important than having to deprive lonely people of a few hours of company when you can’t get help.’
She went home and started measuring the ingredients for the night’s baking. ‘Always best to keep busy when you’ve got a worry,’ she muttered. She checked the flat doors twice and went to bed.
Lottie was out. Greg and Zena invited Susie to discuss the attempted break-in. They didn’t want the commitment of sharing the work of the night café but Susie suggested asking the rest of the drivers and conductors to stop and check whenever they passed, make people aware of their presence.
They both thought that a good idea. ‘If whoever was responsible sees several people hanging around and checking on things there’s far less chance him trying again.’
‘Then you think it’s a man?’ Zena queried. ‘Not a young woman with problems?’
‘That’s so unlikely we can forget it. Madeleine is obviously quite wealthy, hardly the type to consider this as fun, and Rose, she’s too nervous. The damage that was done, in the shop and the café, smashing things, messing the files and papers, destroying food, that’s a seriously unbalanced thing to do.’
‘Well I hope Madeleine and Rose continue to enjoy London and will forget all about us.’ Zena was still unconvinced. She smiled at Susie then turned to the dog.
‘And do you agree, Betty?’ The little dog barked.
Zena continued to visit Roy, calling often to take some shopping and to make sure he was comfortable. Doris and Kevin were in and out and she felt that between them they could do all he needed to make a good recovery.
He began talking easily about the early years of his marriage and his three sons. ‘It was a very happy time, but then, something so terrible happened and …’ Although he tried to explain something of what had changed everything and ended with his wife leaving and taking his sons away, he stumbled, as though trying not to say the words that were trying to reveal themselves. ‘Best to keep it all locked away, it’s too late.’
It was then, for some inexplicable reason, Zena remembered the purse and the key that the children had found in the lake. She took it out, and explained its appearance. ‘The key’s similar to your back door key, the one you lent me once and I wondered if you knew of other houses with a similar lock. Often a builder will use the same materials for other houses.’ She took out the remnants of the purse from a bag and showed him the key. His face distorted with shock. Alarmed, she ran for Doris. Kevin came and he ran to call an ambulance. Later that day when she telephoned the hospital it was to be told he had died.
Zena grieved for a man she had liked and for the loss of the information he had wanted to pass on. She looked at her scrappy notes and felt she had let him down; about the shock he had shown at the sight of the key, she and Doris thought was nothing more than coincidence. The fatal heart attack would have happened anyway.
The funeral was arranged by Doris and Kevin. Roy had given them details of what he wanted. It was Zena who wrote to his sons and they arrived two days later. The youngest, Jack was the most clearly upset at the loss of a father he hadn’t been allowed to know. William and Dick seemed united in their determination not to be swayed from their anger against him.
Without involving herself in their attitude, Zena read out the words she had written down, including the denial of his guilt and the little she knew about Donna’s accusations. She offered them carbon copies of the pages she had typed and walked away without discussion.
Jack read most of what she had written, then followed her. ‘We didn’t see my father or Aunty Donna after the row. It seems a pity that something so misunderstood could have caused such misery.’
‘What happened to Donna?’ Zena asked.
Jack shrugged. ‘She went away. Norfolk I believe. Mam refuses to talk about her, even now.’
‘It isn’t my business but I don’t think your father deserved losing you.’
As Greg approached, Jack asked, ‘Do either of you know Rose Conelly?’
‘Yes,’ Greg said. ‘I do. She moved to London a while ago. Why?’
‘My mother talked about her several times. I’m curious, that’s all.’
‘What do you know about her?’
‘Only that Mam felt sorry for her. She used Rose to remind us of how lucky we were, you know the sort of thing, “Poor Rose would be glad of a decent coat that was brand new and not an ill-fitting hand-me-down, and there’s you complaining because you don’t like the colour!” I didn’t know Rose, in fact I sometimes thought she was an invention to make us feel guilty,’ he said with a smile. ‘Dick is the oldest, he might remember her.’
Greg didn’t bother to ask. He would never find the solution to Rose’s problem and he might as well accept it. He took out his diary to check on shifts, Susie might be free tonight, he would call in and find out. A much wiser prospect than worrying about Rose.