The cloth formed soapy circles on the green and white checked linoleum. Janey knew every inch of the floor, from the worn patch near the door to each pockmark left from the steel tips of Linda’s stiletto heels.
The house their mother had grown up in was large, but after two years she’d grown used to it.
It had taken her a long time to get used to Bournemouth, to the crowds of people who thronged through the town centre. Everyone seemed to be so busy and well-dressed, the cafes full of happy-looking people.
The summer holidaymakers brought with them an unexpected bonus. She’d discovered that if she went to the beach early and dragged a forked stick through the sand there was money to be found. Each coin she uncovered was carefully hoarded in her post office savings book. One day she intended to start painting again and it would buy her some paint and brushes.
Sometimes she visited a small art gallery situated near the large hotel on the other side of town. Entrance was free and it was filled with the most wonderful paintings. Her favorite was a battle scene with the central character on a horse, brandishing a cutlass. He looked like Lord William, her lead soldier. The grey mount he rode evoked a vague memory of a horse called Wellington.
Sometimes she woke with the smell of the countryside sharp in her nostrils, and wondered if the friends she’d left behind ever thought of her. But Coombe Cottage seemed so far in her past now, and although she wrote letters, neither Phil Tyler or Mr. Wyman answered them.
Linda was marrying Tim Brown tomorrow.
Settling back on her haunches she wrung out the grey flannel cloth that had once been her father’s vest. It was to be a white wedding, despite the circumstances. Her mouth slid into a wry grin. For once, Linda had been the object of his temper as he’d slapped her across the face and shrieked, ‘ You cheap little tramp, you’re only seventeen years old.’
He’d stormed off, returning later in a calmer mood, and with the smell of alcohol his breath. ‘It’s all arranged. You and the Brown boy will be married next month ... a small wedding, mind so don’t get any fancy notions. The pair of you will live here until Tom’s old enough to earn a decent wage.
Linda managed to get her own way about the wedding. Wendy would be maid of honor and four-year-old Susie would be her flower girl.
Releasing the twisted cloth she mopped up the remains of the suds and stood. It seemed a stupid exercise to clean the kitchen when it would be filled with caterers in the morning, but habit died hard. She always tidied the kitchen before she went to bed so it would be clean when Pamela cooked breakfast for the boarders.
The wedding reception was going to be held in a marquee in the garden, in case it rained. Drawing the curtains aside she gazed at the sky, clear and star-speckled. August wouldn’t dare rain on Linda’s wedding – it just wouldn’t.
On her way upstairs she heard Wendy and Linda giggling together.
Linda said, ‘My stepmother told the salesgirl in the bridal shop that Timothy was a good catch. How absolutely lower glass.’
‘I hope she’s not going to wear that blue suit. I’ll die laughing.’
‘Oh ... she won’t. My father gave her some money to buy a new dress. It’s pink crimplene with short sleeves and a sunray pleated skirt. She bought it in a sale and it looks hideous. It makes her bum look gigantic.’
‘I suppose your sister will look as though she’d walked out of a rag-bag. Honestly, she has no sense of style.’
Janey’s cheeks began to burn as she made her way to the room she shared with Susie. It wasn’t her fault she had nothing decent to wear. She’d had to leave school when she turned fifteen and didn’t get paid for the work she did in the boarding house.
‘What do you need money for?’ her father had said when she’d requested some pocket money. ‘You have a roof over your head and food in your stomach. Be content with that.’
What did she need money for? Lots of things. She’d like to buy some paints. She also needed some new shoes and a dress for the wedding. Then there was the question of a brassiere.
She gazed at the small breasts that had sprouted on her chest. Her period had started a few months ago. She wished she could afford the soft white pads that Linda used instead of folded linen squares fashioned from old sheets. They rubbed the inside of her thighs raw.
But she couldn’t tell her father about her intimate bodily functions, she thought, as she kissed Susie’s soft cheek and slid into bed. It would be too embarrassing.
* * * *
Pamela was in a flap the next morning. The caterers arrived just as she’d finished preparing the boarders’ breakfast trays.
Janey took them up to the three guests and patiently listened to the complaints of one who’d been woken by the caterer’s van. She made a few soothing noises.
‘I’m so sorry. They were not supposed to arrive for another hour.’
‘Mrs.. Brown arrived to help the bride and bridesmaids dress. Eager to oust Pamela from a role she’d never been asked to fill, her loud, overbearing manner soon had Susie in tears.
‘I told you it was a mistake having Susan as a flower girl. ‘Sit still girl! If you get dirty you’ll spoil the look of the wedding party.’
Janey’s temper began to burn when Susie gave a heart-rending sob and her eyes were fiery as she pushed open the door. ‘If you’d just stop shouting at her she’d be fine. Offering Mrs.. Brown a withering look she took Susie by the hand. ‘Leave her to me.’
‘Well I never,’ Mrs.. Brown spluttered. ‘Who does she think she is?’
‘Cinderella,’ Janey muttered under her breath, ‘And you’re the ugly stepmother.’
‘I don’t want to be a flower girl,’ Susie whined.
Squatting to her haunches Janey smiled at her. ‘You look beautiful, like a fairy princess. Did I ever tell you the story of sleeping beauty ...?
Susie was soon smiling again, and when it was time to leave for the church she handed her over to Wendy with the instruction. ‘Make sure she has a pee before you leave.’
Wendy gave Janey’s green checked dress a critical glance. ‘Is that what you’re going to wear?’
‘Yes.’
Pity filled her eyes. ‘Your father is a mean sod where you’re concerned, isn’t he?’ Look ... there’s a dress in my bag that should fit you, and I could arrange your hair better for you.’
Janey was tempted, but remembering Wendy’s hurtful remarks from the night before she determined that she wouldn’t be patronized. ‘Thanks, but I’m quite happy as I am.’
‘Please yourself.’ Wendy stalked away on her high heels with a pink-frilled Susie in tow.
The wedding went without a hitch. Linda looked prettily self-conscious, and beautiful in her white empire line dress. Her short veil was attached to a garland of daisies.
Tim Brown had an embarrassed look on his face as he mumbled his responses. He was sweating, and a lock of his slicked-back hair kept flopping on to his forehead.
Janey felt sorry for him, but then, she’d feel sorry for anyone who married Linda, even though she was her sister.
After the service they headed back to the house, where people gathered in the marquee, talking and being polite. The women looked like bunches of flowers
In their pastel chiffons and silks, their lips pursed to sip champagne from shallow glasses.
Her father made a speech. Linda and Tim turned red when he told a joke about the patter of tiny feet, and everyone laughed.
The pink crimplene dress Pamela wore collected a brown stain on the bodice. Nobody noticed until Mrs.. Brown thought to loudly point it out.
During the course of the afternoon the hats wilted, the men became glassy-eyed and loud, and the women began to neigh like horses.
Dragged on to the dance floor by the best man, Janey nearly tripped over a chair. Embarrassed, she muttered her excuses and retreated.
Linda changed into a powder blue dress with matching coat. A pill box hat adorned her head.
‘So chic, she looks just like Jackie Kennedy,’ someone gushed.
‘Poor dear,’ someone else said and they all fell silent, remembering the shocking assassination of the American President two years previously.
Then the shout went up. ‘Where’s the bridegroom?’
Amid much laughter Tim was pulled out from under a table by a couple of friends. White-faced and staggering he was sick into the flowerbed.
When the taxi came to take the bridal couple to the railway station for the start of a honeymoon in Cornwall, Linda was tight-lipped. They were arguing as the cab sped away.
Soon the marquee was empty of people, but full of dirty glasses and plates. Janey lifted the arm from the middle of a record and set it back on its rest, and then carried the remains of the wedding cake inside. A sleepy Susie was tucked up in bed with her raggedy doll.
Together, she and Pamela began to tidy up.
Her father came out of the house just as they’d finished lining the filled garbage bags up against the wall. Without looking at either of them he got in the car and drove away.
They exchanged a glance, smiled, and went into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
* * * *
A couple of weeks later, when Janey had taken Susie to the beach and Pamela was alone in the house, the doorbell rang.
The last person she expected to see on her doorstep was Mary Yates. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t ring you first, but I thought you wouldn’t see me if I did,’ she said.
She was probably right. Pamela stood aside, allowing her entry. ‘You can’t stay long, Eddie will be home from work soon.’
‘I’ve come about Janey. Douglas and I have had a talk and we’d like to see her now and again if you’ll let us.’
‘After what your brother did to her?’
‘Jack didn’t do anything. He’d die rather than hurt a hair on her head. Why didn’t your husband allow her to give evidence?’
‘Because she couldn’t remember anything and Eddie didn’t want to put her through it. Janey thinks she was hit by a car and it’s better to let sleeping dogs lie, if you ask me.’
‘Did anyone ask you?’
Pamela lowered her eyes from Mary’s shrewd glance. ‘Janey’s not my daughter, she’s Eddie’s. I haven’t got much say in what goes on.’
‘Janey is Jack’s daughter, and I’m her aunt.’ Mary took a photograph and thrust it into her hand. ‘That’s Jack at eighteen. Deny it if you like, but she looks just like him.’
Pamela couldn’t deny that Janey was the spitting image of the man in the photograph. He’d been nice looking before he’d been scarred. Sadly, she handed it back. ‘I believe you Mrs.. Yates, but I can’t help you ... I daren’t. Somebody attacked Janey and everything pointed to your brother.’
‘I think it was more a crime of revenge. Jack was in love with Margaret Renfrew.’ Mary shrugged. ‘I didn’t really approve of the relationship. Margaret seemed to be too young to be married, let alone have children. I didn’t know the circumstances then.’
Curious now, Pamela asked, ‘What circumstances?’
Mary hesitated. ‘I’m sorry, it’s not really my business. I keep forgetting you’re Eddie Renfrew’s wife.’
Pamela drew in a deep breath. ‘Don’t let that stop you. To be honest, I sometimes wish I weren’t.’ She glanced nervously at the clock. ‘Look, we could meet somewhere and talk. Janey could walk in any moment.’
‘I thought she’d be at school ... is she unwell?’
‘Eddie insisted she leave school when she turned fifteen. She helps me in the boarding house.’
Mary looked shocked.
Pamela had missed having someone to talk to since she’d left the village, and she’d liked Mary Yates despite what had happened to Janey. Her voice thickened. ‘Eddie never did treat Janey right. Sometimes I wish I had the guts to leave him, but then I think of Janey here all alone with him, working in the boarding house for no pay, and I think of my daughter, Susie.’ Fishing around in her pocket she brought out a handkerchief and blew her nose. ‘He threatened to take Susie with him if I left him. Beside, where could I go without money?’
Mary slid an arm around her shoulder in a sympathetic hug. ‘Look, I didn’t come here to cause you trouble. Why don’t you visit me, I don’t live far from here.’ Mary took a card from her bag and placing it in Pamela’s pocket, she urged,
‘Come tomorrow if you can get away, Pamela, we can chat then.’
‘I will.’ Pamela managed a tremulous smile. ‘Janey will be coming up the cliff path from the beach soon. ‘Please don’t mention what happened to her in Winterbrook. She has enough problems to cope with.’
A kiss landed on her cheek. ‘Thank you Pamela, I promise I won’t even speak to her, unless she sees me ... not until we’ve worked things out between us.’
Mary found a seat under a pine tree, just a little way from where the path emerged. It was amongst several chattering women well into middle age. Ten minutes later she was rewarded when a tall, slender girl appeared clutching the hand of a child.
Janey looked shabby in a faded pink blouse, a pair of patched pedal pushers and brown sandals. An elastic band secured one long, pale braid.
Her face has matured into fragile beauty, Mary thought, but her eyes had a haunted look. The child with her was poorly dressed, but was gazing up with Janey with adoration in her eyes. Mary caught her breath when Janey walked past her without a glance. She’d never seen anyone look quite so vulnerable. Yet when she inclined her head to smile at something the child said, her face was illuminated by love. Dear God! Mary thought, shaken by the flood of feeling that ripped through her. She smiles just like Jack.
At least she could tell her brother that she’d seen her when she next visited him. It might cheer him up to get some news, and if she could get Pamela on side, Janey might be allowed to visit their home.
She felt guilt nibble at her for encouraging Pamela to deceive her husband. The woman seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown as it was. But she had to put Jack first. His mental and physical health was slowly deteriorating in that place. She knew he was innocent, and was determined to clear his name.
There had been a spate of attacks on young girls the district round about the time Janey had been attacked. A man had lured girls into a car on some pretence, and had drugged them before driving them into the country and interfering with them. But the police hadn’t bothered taking that into account.
If she could win the girl over she might be able to encourage her to remember what happened, and clear Jack’s name.
She sniffed disapprovingly at the thought of her niece being used as an unpaid servant in Eddie Renfrew’s boarding house. If Janey lived with her she’d still be in school.
* * * *
Pamela was soon informed of her predecessor’s story. Mary showed her newspaper cuttings from the time. They described Margaret as a loose woman, and depicted Eddie as a martyred saint. There was very little sympathy for her from the public, even in death ... a woman who visited a back-street midwife deserved all they got.
‘Linda looks like her mother.’ Pamela said.
‘Margaret wasn’t what they made her out to be. She was a nice girl who’d been treated badly. Half the time she was frightened of her own shadow, that’s why she took to Jack. He’s gentle, dependable and kind, definitely not the type to hurt anyone, let alone his own daughter.’
Pamela remembered the photographs she’d buried in the garden of Coombe Cottage. If only they knew, she thought, feeling a sense of rapport with the late Margaret Renfrew.
Between them she and Mary came to an arrangement. They’d wait until Janey turned eighteen before telling her the truth. In the meantime an accidental meeting in Bournemouth gardens was arranged.
Janey was delighted to see Mary again and they chatted while Pamela took Susie to the cafe across the square for an ice cream.
It was only natural that Mary would ask her to visit, and whilst she was there, use Jack’s painting equipment.
Janey couldn’t resist the lure. Every Wednesday she joined the Yates for lunch and spent a couple of hours painting. At the moment she was working on a still life, a bowl of blue hyacinths on Mary’s windowsill. Both of them were careful not to mention the man Janey had known as John Gregory, though when his old Labrador greeted her with unashamed delight, tears pricked the girl’s eyes, and Mary couldn’t help wondering what the girl was thinking as she knelt to hug the dog.
Aware of her father’s temper, Janey didn’t need reminding to keep the visits a secret. For a few short months her life took on a new meaning, until a casual remark from Tim Brown gave the game away.
* * * *
Janey’s sixteen birthday coincided with her visit with Mary. A cold wind was blowing as she left the house. She shivered as she dodged the traffic across the square and pulled up the collar of her thin raincoat.
Mary and Douglas lived in Westborne. Resisting the urge to take a bus she walked through the gardens. It was pretty along the stream, the grass crunched under her feet where it was layered in frost. Bare willow canes dipped gracefully towards the stream, the dormant brown nubs along their length waiting for spring to wake them.
This would be her last visit for a while. Douglas had recently retired and he and Mary were leaving for a four week holiday in Australia, where Douglas had a brother he hadn’t seen for several years.
Goldie was going to a boarding kennel in the country. Janey wished she was able to look after her, but she’d never be able to have a dog in the house, even if she asked.
She finished off her painting, cleaned the brushes and went into the kitchen, where the table was set for lunch. There was an iced cake with sixteen candles on it. Next to it was a small, gift-wrapped parcel.
Douglas smiled. ‘This is for you, I hope you like it.’
They watched her open it, uncover a gold chain with a heart hanging from it. The inscription on it read, To Janey with love. She had never seen anything so lovely and she gazed from one to the other, overwhelmed. ‘It’s beautiful ... thank you. You’re so kind.’
‘Let’s see what it looks like on then.’ About to clasp it around her neck Mary fumbles with the leather thong she found there. ‘We’d better take this old thing off first.’
‘No!’ Janey’s hand closed her hand around it. ‘It was a gift from Griff Tyler.’
‘Isn’t that the gypsy lad who found ... ‘ Mary lifted the wooden disc to examine it. ‘Didn’t he live in the village?’
‘Griff’s only part gypsy.’
‘He’s good at carving. I suppose he sells these from door to door.’
‘He’s at university, and is going to be a doctor,’ Janet said quietly.
Feeling as though she’d patronized Janey and come off second best, Mary grimaced at her husband.
Douglas winked. ‘I expect there’s room for two necklaces.’
Impulsively Janey hugged Mary when she fastened the clasp. She felt choked up, as if her mind couldn’t decide whether to cry or laugh.
Mary didn’t know whether to laugh or cry either. She wished she could tell her that it was a gift from her father, but Jack had expressly forbidden it.
‘Let sleeping dogs lie,’ he’d said. ‘Janey’s suffered enough.’
Afterwards Janey blew the candles out and ate some of the cake. Mary and Douglas sang happy birthday, and put some cake in a bag to take home to Susie and Pamela.
‘There’s something else,’ Douglas said as she prepared to leave. ‘We’ve bought you a warm coat.’
Janey vaguely remembered a new coat she’d had as a child. Her father had given it to Linda. The smile left her face.
‘It’s all right love. Pamela will say she bought it in a jumble sale if anyone asks.
The calf length duffel coat in warm blue wool had a checked lining and a fur-edged hood. She’d never owned anything so nice in her life, and was wearing it when she left, her old raincoat stuffed in her bag.
* * * *
Tim Brown had just finished valuing a house for a prospective client in the street when he glanced up and saw Janey walk by.’
He felt sorry for her. She and Pamela were little more than slaves in the Renfrew household. He hated living there, hated the tension that was always present. His dislike of Eddie Renfrew had turned to loathing. The man was a hypocrite. Smooth and urbane to outsiders, he attended church on Sundays without fail. Yet he treated his wife and his two younger daughters like dirt.
He’d been an idiot to allow himself to be trapped into marriage. Linda was a self-centered shrew who constantly complained about the coming baby. She’d once been fun, but Tim wouldn’t have married her if she hadn’t become pregnant.
At nineteen, control of his life had been taken over by others. Knowing it was his fault didn’t help matters. He’d only just left school and had already been obliged to abandon his plans to make a career in the navy. The pregnancy had forced him to do what his father had always wanted – join him in the real estate business.
Briefly, Tim had wondered what Janey had been doing in this part of town before he turned his attention back to his client.
It was a few days before he had the chance to ask her. Sunday lunch was over and Janey was clearing the dishes away.
He gave her a smile as she picked up his dirty plate. ‘I was in Westbourne Crescent the other day on Wednesday and saw you walk by. Do you know someone who lives there?’
The plate slipped from her hand as she gazed at him, eyes horrified.
Realizing he’d made a blunder Tim tried to cover it up as she picked the broken pieced up from the floor. ‘Come to think of it, it couldn’t have been you. The girl I saw was wearing a blue duffel coat.’
Audible in the sudden silence was Pamela’s intake of breath.
Eddie saw deception in his wife’s eyes when he flicked her a glance. She’d liked when she’d told him he’s bought the coat at a jumble sale. Placing his napkin on the table he fixed Janey with a stare.
She gazed back at him, seemingly indifferent.
Linda gave a nervous titter. ‘I’m going to our room.’
‘Stay there,’ he snarled, his scowl daring Tim to interfere. Tim shuffled in his chair and Linda rolled her eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh.
‘Well Janey ... answer the question. What were you doing in Westbourne Crescent last Wednesday?’
‘She was running an errand for me,’ Pamela said.
Eddie thumped his fist on the table and everyone jumped. ‘Answer me, Janey?’
‘Visiting friends.’
‘Friends ... what friends?’
She didn’t answer. Her father could beat her black and blue if he wanted. Nothing would make her tell him. She experienced a certain inevitability, as if something momentous was about to happen. The only happiness she had was when she was with Mary and Douglas Yayes. She wouldn’t let him spoil it. She wouldn’t.
‘Am I to take it you’re refusing to tell me?’
‘That’s right.’ She was sick of being the object of her father’s anger, and sick of being a slave in the boarding house. Mary and Douglas treated her with respect and made her feel as though she was worth something.
Her father’s face turned a mottle shade of purple. ‘You’ll do as I tell you?’
Something strange happened. Janey’s mind seemed to detach from her body and she took a long hard look at herself. She saw someone who was brow-beaten and frightened of her own shadow – someone she didn’t admire. Her fingers touched the Griffin hidden under her blouse. It would give her strength, Phil Tyler had said.
Her chin lifted. ‘All my life you’ve treated me like dirt, and I’m not taking it any more.’
Dishes and cutlery scattered as Eddie shot to his feet. His mean little eyes swept round the table and came to rest on Pamela. ‘See what you’ve done by taking her side.’
Pamela gazed down at her hands and Susie began to whimper.’
‘Shut up,’ Eddie shouted.
Scrambling from her chair, Susie buried her head in Pamela’s lap.
‘Leave her alone. It’s me you’re in a temper with father.’
How dare she speak to him like that in his own home? Her Bellamy eyes were full of contempt. Eddie’s control slipped, he needed to hurt her, bring her back into line. ‘Father,’ he snarled. ‘I’m not your bloody father.’
Pamela gasped, and Linda gave a tiny whimpering cry as he moved towards Janey and gazed into her mutinous face. ‘Your mother was an adulterous
whore – a sinner, who right at this moment is burning in hell. Oh no ... I’m definitely not your father.’
‘Thank God,’ Janey spat back at him, her shock tempered by a strange sense of relief, ‘because I hate you ... I’ve always hated you.’
Eddie’s face blazed. When he back-handed her across the face she staggered backwards and fell. Mouth dripping blood she cried out when he reached for the carving knife with one hand and for her hair with the other. ‘Didn’t you learn your lesson the last time I cut off your hair. This time I’ll scar your face so no man will ever look at you.’
‘No, you bloody well won’t.’ White faced, Tim shot to his feet an pinioned Eddie’s arms to his side before he could slash at her. He twisted the knife from Eddie’s hand, managing to nick his own at the same time. Blood sprayed as he threw the weapon on the table, staining the white cloth with startling red drops. ‘That’s enough, Mr. Renfrew. If you don’t calm down I’ll ring for the police.’ Pushing Eddie on to a chair Tim stood threateningly over him.
Linda sidled to her feet and backed against the wall. ‘That’s right ... Stick up for her and not for me.’
‘Why don’t you belt up for five minutes,’ Tim shot at her. ‘This isn’t about you.’
‘Get out of my house you ungrateful madam. Join your mother in hell, and don’t bother coming back.’
Head held high Janey left the room. She could hear her father coughing as she stuffed her clothes into two plastic bags. But no ... he wasn’t her father, she reminded herself. Someone else was. At last, something that explained his treatment of her.’
There was a sense of unreality about the situation. She was free – free of his tyranny at long last! Hysterical laughter bubbled up inside her and she felt deliriously happy as she took Lord William from the drawer and placed it in her pocket.
Life was a journey Phil had said, and her journey was about to start.
The house shook as a door slammed shut and her laughter stilled in her throat. How would Pamela manage without her?
They were waiting for her in the hall. Pamela’s face was strained as she whispered in her ear, ‘Get word to me through Mary if you can.’
Linda looked terrified. Ashen faced she was swaying on her feet as Janey gave Susie a hug. ‘You made him do that, Janey. You’ve always been a troublemaker, and I hate you.’
‘Take Linda to the bathroom, she’d going to be sick,’ she said to Tim.
Tim ignored her words and followed her to the door, saying, ‘It was my fault. I’m so sorry Janey.’ He pressed a wad of money into her hand. ‘It’s not much. If you need any help contact Wendy at work. I’ll tell her what happened.’
There was more to Tim than she’d first thought, though he’d shown appalling taste by marrying Linda.
‘I thought you were going to grow a beard and be a pirate when you grew up,’ she said, making him smile when she took his handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around his cut hand.
He brushed a kiss against her bruised mouth. ‘And you had dreams of being a famous artist.’
‘I still have.’ She experienced a dangerous sense of freedom, as if this was a turning point in her life of some significance. ‘Now, perhaps I can be. I’ll invite you to my first exhibition.’
She heard Linda throw up, and grinned. For once in her life she wouldn’t have to clean up anyone’s mess but her own.
* * * *
With not set plan to follow Janey spent the night in the unoccupied house of Mary and Donald Yates. One thing she knew, she was not staying in Bournemouth, where she might run into her father. She’d take a train, something she’d never done before. It would be an adventure.
Before she left for the station wrote left Mary and Douglas a note, thanking them for their past kindness and explaining the situation. She promised to contact them when she was settled.
Still with no set plan to follow she closed her eyes and stabbed a finger at the map on the railway station wall.
‘How much is the fare to London?’ she said to the man in the ticket office.
Her heart began to beat overtime as she handed over the money. The thought of going to the capital city was rather frightening, but it was as good as anywhere to start her new life.