There’s Always Tomorrow (33 page)

They reached Mary’s house just as the baker’s boy was making a delivery.

‘Are we going to live with Auntie Mary?’ asked Patsy.

‘No, we’re going home,’ said Dottie, ‘but we thought you’d like to see your friends first.’

Maureen and Susan emerged from the house and rushed down the path, crying, ‘Patsy, Patsy …’

Billy hung back by the door. He had his hands in his pockets. He kicked an imaginary stone on the step as he watched his sisters jumping around Patsy. Dottie noticed a slight smile playing on his lips.

‘Hello, Billy,’ said Patsy. ‘I’ve been in hospital.’

Billy stuffed his hands deep into his pockets. ‘You all right now?’

He dug out a sweet and handed it to her. ‘I’ve been saving it for you,’ he said. ‘It’s got a bit of fluff on it, but I ain’t sucked it, honest.’

Patsy laughed. ‘Thanks,’ she said, popping it in her mouth.

As they walked in the door, Mary handed Dottie five pounds.

‘What’s that for?’

‘Gerald brought it round. It’s what he got for the pig.’ She grinned, ‘Minus a bit of commission.’

Dottie laughed.

There was a white box on the kitchen table. ‘This has just come for you.’

Maureen and Susan edged up to them. When Dottie lifted the lid she gasped. It was a cake covered in pink and white icing with a large pink rose on the top.

John caught his breath. ‘Where did that come from?’

Maureen beamed. ‘Patsy done it, didn’t you, Pats?’

Patsy frowned crossly. ‘O-oh! It was supposed to be for the ’prise party.’

Maureen’s smile died and she looked apprehensive.

‘Ummm,’ Susan said to her sister. ‘You shouldn’t have told.’

‘Where did the cake come from?’ Dottie asked gently.

Susan and Patsy went red and stared at the floor.

‘Me and Patsy went to the cake shop,’ Maureen piped up. ‘Patsy said for it to come today and the lady wrote it all down.’

‘But how did you pay for it, love?’ asked Dottie. ‘You don’t have any money.’

‘Are you cross with me?’ Patsy asked.

Dottie crouched down. ‘Of course not, love,’ she said. ‘It’s the nicest thing anyone ever gave me.’ She opened her arms and Patsy went to her.

‘Patsy used a whole pound note,’ said Maureen. ‘Didn’t you, Pats? She got it off that old lady.’

‘My mother,’ whispered John. ‘Remember …?’

Then Dottie remembered Laura giving the child a pound note that first day they went to the cottage. Buy something special, Laura had told the child – and she’d spent every last penny on a cake for her! Immediately the tears sprang into her eyes and she had a lump in her throat the size of a grapefruit. Her heart was overwhelmed with love for this beautiful child.

‘Come on, you two,’ said Mary briskly, putting her hands in the small of her daughters’ backs. ‘Come out to the kitchen with me.’

‘Maureen told Patsy about the party, Mum,’ said Susan.

‘I never!’ Maureen protested.

‘Oh yes, you did … I said you’d get told off.’

‘I never, Mum,’ Maureen insisted.

‘It’s all right, m’duck. Nobody’s cross with you.’ Their voices faded as Mary closed the door.

Dottie reached for her handkerchief. ‘Auntie Laura meant you to have that money for yourself, darling,’ she said dabbing her eyes. ‘But thank you for doing that. It’s lovely.’

‘Can I have some?’

Dottie laughed. ‘Of course you can.’

Patsy wriggled out of Dottie’s arms. ‘Can I go and play with Maureen now?’

Dottie stood up. ‘Off you go then.’

She hurried out of the room and in a short while Dottie could hear the girls giggling. Dottie looked down at the cake again.

‘Oh John, I’ve been an absolute idiot. I didn’t really want her in the first place but Patsy is such a lovely child. And I wanted so much to believe that Reg would come round. I kept thinking, perhaps not today, but there’s always tomorrow.’ She broke off and looked away.

‘Everyone was fooled,’ said John softly. ‘It’s not your fault that you always look for the good in people.’

‘I married a monster.’

‘Ah, there’s one more thing I haven’t told you,’ said John cautiously. ‘I’m not sure if you even realise, but you two were never even married.’

She frowned.

‘Because he used a false name, that makes your marriage null and void,’ said John. ‘And besides, he already has a wife under his real name.’

Dottie raised an eyebrow.

‘That woman he had in your house,’ said John, ‘his accomplice. Her name is Joyce Sinclair.’

Dottie let out a hollow laugh. ‘How ironic,’ she said harshly. ‘All I ever wanted was to be a respectable married woman with a family. Now I turn out to be the bigamous wife of a would-be murderer. How far from respectable can you get?’

‘None of this is your fault,’ said John.

‘Do you think they’ll ever catch him?’

‘He’s as slippery as an eel, that one,’ said John. ‘Only one thing is for sure, he’ll be far, far away by now.’

Dottie’s chin quivered as she ran her finger along the top of the cake. She sighed. ‘What a lovely thing to do.’

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. ‘Can we come in, Uncle John?’

John grinned. ‘I suppose they have been waiting a very long time,’ he said glancing at his watch. ‘At least fifteen seconds.’

‘More than a lifetime,’ she laughed.

She watched the children swarm over him. He was wonderfully patient and he’d make a terrific father one day. She glanced down at the inscription on the cake again, and for the first time in a very long time, she felt her heart soar.

The pink icing said it all. ‘For Mummy Dottie.’

In the week before Christmas, Mary, Edna, Ann and Peaches decided to go ahead with the welcome party. Christmas Day fell on the Tuesday and everybody agreed that after the usual family affair, they would gather in Edna’s barn for a barn dance and make it a Christmas to remember.

They spent Christmas Eve decorating the barn with paper chains.

‘Whoever thought up that idea deserves a medal,’ Mary declared. ‘It kept the kids quiet all day.’

Janet Cooper finally got rid of the box of balloons left over from the VJ Day celebrations. Gerald, Tom and Jack swept out the barn and Michael arranged some bales of straw around the edge for seating. By the time the caller arrived, the trestle tables borrowed from the village hall groaned with leftover Christmas fare and plenty more besides.

Patsy was very excited. She and the other children had been doing some country dancing at school and this was a wonderful opportunity to show off their skills. Even more thrilling, Dottie had given Patsy Aunt Bessie’s old cowboy hat to wear.

‘Where’s John?’ asked Mary as Dottie struggled through the door with a sherry trifle.

‘On duty.’

‘On Christmas Day?’

‘Somebody’s got to do it,’ smiled Dottie. ‘He said he’d try and come over later if everything was quiet, but I know he’s worried about a couple of pregnant patients.’

She and John had had a long talk soon after Patsy came out of hospital. John wasn’t too keen, but she’d persuaded him that she needed to be on her own for a bit. They were still seeing each other but, for the first time in her life, Dottie was making her own decisions and plans.

‘What a shame,’ Ann sighed. ‘After all we’ve been through, we should all be together tonight.’ Vince came up and handed her a milk stout. As she took it, he put his arm around her shoulders and she smiled up at him happily. ‘Everyone should be with the people they love at Christmas.’

Dottie and Mary exchanged a grin as they left them to it. Several kids playing kiss chase dashed through the straw bales. ‘Calm down,’ Mary shouted.

By the time Dottie got back home that night, it was very late. Patsy was so tired she struggled to walk up the path so Michael Gilbert swept her up in his arms and carried her indoors and upstairs to her bedroom. While Dottie undressed her, Michael went back to his truck to fetch the presents.

‘Are you sure you’re going to be all right here on your own?’ he asked.

‘Michael,’ Dottie chided gently. ‘I’m a big girl now and I can look after myself.’ But she knew why he was concerned.

Earlier in the evening, Mary had said anxiously, ‘I think you should stay here with us tonight, hen.’

‘Whatever for?’ cried Dottie. ‘As far as Reg knows, we’re still at Sylvie’s. Besides, coming back here would be the last thing he would do.’

‘I’m sure your John wouldn’t like you to be on your own,’ Ann cautioned.

‘John is a dear man,’ Dottie had said, ‘but I can make my own decisions. Stop worrying.’

Tom wasn’t so sure either. ‘Reg can be very vindictive, Dottie. I think you should do as Mary says.’

‘Thank you for your concern,’ said Dottie stiffly, ‘but really, there’s no need.’

Now that she was back home, Dottie didn’t like to admit she was a little nervous.

‘I’ll stay if you like,’ Michael said. ‘I can sleep on the sofa downstairs.’

Dottie smiled. ‘I’ll be fine.’

‘Lock all the doors,’ Michael cautioned as he left.

‘I always do,’ Dottie smiled. She kissed his cheek. ‘Don’t you worry about me. You get your Freda home to bed. She looks all done in, poor girl.’

Before she went to bed, Dottie tidied up the toys and made herself a cocoa. Climbing the stairs to her room, she found that she was missing John. Having her independence was wonderful, but she wished he was here right now.

She opened the door slightly and listened to Patsy’s deep rhythmic breathing. It was like music to Dottie’s ears and she couldn’t resist creeping in and giving her a kiss on her forehead. Patsy stirred in her sleep. As quietly as she could, Dottie crept outside. She’d leave the toys until the morning. If she tidied them away in Patsy’s room, she might wake her. She put Aunt Bessie’s hat on the top of the pile and left them.

Back in her own room, she wished John was here once again. And if he was here … Humming to herself, she climbed into bed and turned out the light.

As soon as the door creaked open, Dottie held her breath. A tall figure was standing in the doorway with one hand on the latch. He waited, watching the bed for any sign of movement and then looked behind him towards the landing.

He stepped into the room and Dottie saw the glint of the knife in his hand. With one fluid movement, he was beside the bed and slashing at the bedclothes.

‘Bitch,’ he hissed. ‘Bloody bitch.’

Dottie didn’t move. Please, please, she prayed. Don’t let Patsy hear him, don’t let her wake up.

Dottie had known the minute she saw him that it was Reg. The others had been right. She wished to God she’d listened, but she hadn’t and now she’d put Patsy’s life in danger once again. A murderous intent had driven him back to the one place she honestly thought he’d never return. When she’d heard the key in the lock, she’d realised he’d got into the house the same way she had – he’d used the spare key under the mangle.

As soon as she’d heard him, something made her get out of bed and stuff the spare pillows under the bedclothes. She’d only just managed to stop the coat hangers rattling in the wardrobe where she was hiding as he’d come into the room. The door was shut, but she could watch his every move through the crack above the mirror.

A light went on outside and Patsy called out, ‘Mummy.’

Reg sprang like a cat towards the door. Dottie’s heart went into her mouth. He was after Patsy too. Stumbling out into the room, Dottie dashed onto the landing.

Patsy had opened her door wide and stood tousled-haired, rubbing her eyes in the doorway. When she looked up and saw Reg, she froze. Dottie’s heart was pounding but from deep within her she found a strong and commanding voice.

‘Patsy, go back into your room and shut the door … now!’

Patsy fled. Her door banged. Reg rounded on Dottie and his narrowed eyes seem to change colour. He was so terrifying, she thought she was going to faint.

‘I’m going to kill you, bitch,’ Reg snarled. ‘You’ve ruined my life. You and that bloody aunt of yours.’

Dottie could feel her knees knocking. ‘Did you kill Aunt Bessie?’

‘Of course I did,’ said Reg.

Dottie took in her breath.

‘You should have seen her face,’ Reg grinned. His eyes were bright with excitement. ‘She was standing right where you are now.’

Dottie’s knees went to jelly.

‘Didn’t take much. Just one little push.’

‘Why?’ Dottie squeaked.

‘The stupid cow found out I was still married.’ Reg kicked at Aunt Bessie’s hat and stamped on it. ‘Bloody bitch.’

Dottie trembled as Reg threw back his head and let out a hideous laugh. ‘Know what?’ he sneered. ‘She never touched one bloody stair all the way down.’

A door closed downstairs and they both looked down. John Landers and Kipper were standing in the small hallway.

‘So now we know, Reg,’ said Kipper. ‘That was as good a confession as I’ve ever heard.’

‘Dottie, be careful!’ John frantic cry coincided with Reg’s loud roar as he made a dash towards Dottie. He was still standing on Aunt Bessie’s hat and somehow the chinstrap had looped itself over his other foot. The little landing didn’t allow him much room for manoeuvre. Reg looked down, and lost his balance. For a couple of seconds, he flailed his arms, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from falling. He let out a single cry of panic before tumbling over the top stair and there was a sickening thud as he hit his head at the bottom. Dottie turned her head away.

In the ominous silence that followed, John leaned over him. ‘He’s dead,’ he said quietly. ‘His neck is broken.’

A small voice called from behind the bedroom door. ‘Mummy …’ And anxious that the child shouldn’t come out and see what had happened, Dottie dashed across the landing into Patsy’s room.

The first flurry of snow began as they drove out of Worthing. By the time they’d reached the turnoff for Yapton, it was beginning to settle. It was 1952, one year later and Christmas Eve. Dottie and John were on their way to pick up his mother for Christmas in the village. She’d left Patsy and the others back at Mary’s place, busy making mince pies for the carol service in St Andrew’s later that evening.

‘What a difference a year makes,’ John grinned.

Dottie nodded slowly, remembering last Christmas when Reg had broken into Myrtle Cottage and fallen down the stairs. Thank God John and the policeman had been there.

Kipper, anxious that Dottie would be in the house on her own, had rung John to tell him Reg had been spotted in the area. John was so frantic, he’d arranged for his colleague to cover for him while he drove over to Worthing to make sure that Dottie was all right.

The two of them had arrived just in time to see Reg enter the cottage. John was all for arresting him there and then but Kipper held back and as a result they’d heard Reg’s confession. When it was all over, Dottie was surprised that she felt no grief. In fact, she didn’t feel anything. She had been married to him and now he was gone.

The past twelve months had brought a complete change in all their circumstances. Gary was back home with Peaches and Jack and Mandy. He’d made such good progress he’d been able to shed the calliper, although he still walked with a slight limp. Everyone agreed he’d made an amazing recovery.

Michael and Freda had a bouncing baby boy, birth weight nine pounds, and Dottie had been asked to be godmother.

‘Imagine that,’ Mary gasped. ‘None of mine were more than seven pounds and that little slip of a girl gives birth to an elephant!’

In the same month, King George VI died of lung cancer. Like thousands of others, Dottie, Peaches, Ann and Mary huddled together around the wireless and wept.

In March, Dottie put Myrtle Cottage up for sale. By the time the May blossom was out, Ann and Vince were married. ‘I’m Mrs Vincent Dobbs,’ Ann sighed as Dottie, Peaches and Mary helped her change into her going-away outfit. She held out her left hand and the gold band on her finger glistened in the light. ‘It so good to have a man to lean on.’

‘There’s nothing like a good wedding,’ said Peaches, digging Dottie in the ribs.

Dottie felt her face colour. She and John were very close, but ever since Reg died, he hadn’t even mentioned marriage. ‘I want to stand on my own two feet,’ said Dottie, keen to put a stop to her friends’ speculation. ‘I’ve decided I don’t need a man to be happy.’

Peaches shook her head. ‘Oh, Dottie …’

But Mary had surprised them all by saying, ‘Good for you, hen.’

Dottie said nothing. Even if she had the chance to marry John, perhaps the stigma of her once living with a murderer might damage his career.

With the five hundred pounds she got for the sale of the cottage, Dottie had bought a small shop in the centre of Worthing and set up her own furnishing business. Sylvie had recommended her to all her friends and Dottie had a full order book before Fabulous Furnishings had even opened its doors. Mariah Fitzgerald couldn’t wait to tell all her friends that she had been the one who discovered Dottie. Her beautifully decorated bedroom became the talk of the Golf Club. By Whitsun, the requests were coming in so fast, Dottie was forced to close for a week to teach Ann how to measure up accurately. Mary said Dottie was kindness itself, but Dottie felt Ann simply needed a leg up. After all, she was a quick-witted and intelligent woman.

Patsy was really settled now. She and Billy had both passed their eleven plus and were doing well at school.

By the end of the summer, despite her best efforts to convince herself that he was just a friend, Dottie was still hopelessly in love with John. She deeply regretted holding him at arm’s length now, but he seemed happy to leave things as they were.

As she and John drove out of town to fetch his mother, Dottie’s mind drifted back to the night before when she and Mary had been filling their hot water bottles. She and Patsy had left their little flat over the shop and come to stay with the Priors for Christmas.

‘John wants to help me adopt Patsy officially.’ Dottie had told her.

‘Oh? I didn’t think it was possible for a single woman to adopt a child.’

‘Apparently, because I’m a woman of independent means, I may be able to do it if I get the backing of a professional.’

‘But if you and John got married,’ said Mary pointedly, ‘there would be no problem at all.’ Dottie looked away. Mary pressed the filled bottle to her chest until the water drew level with the top and then she screwed in the stopper. ‘You love him, don’t you?’

‘You know I do,’ said Dottie.

‘Well then?’ said Mary.

‘I think he’s changed his mind,’ said Dottie. She sighed. ‘Maybe it’s just as well. I may have been exonerated from the goings-on in Eastbourne, but in the kind of circles where he mixes, you know what they’re like. They’ll say there’s no smoke without fire.’

‘Now you’re being silly,’ scoffed Mary. ‘Why should he care what people think? And besides, you’re a rich woman, Dottie Cox. You can afford to move away and start all over again.’

‘I couldn’t bear to be parted from all of you!’ Dottie cried. ‘Where would I find such wonderful friends? Anyway, it’s nothing to do with money. It’s class. John has a position to keep up. He’ll choose a wife who’ll play the hostess and stay at home. Now that I’ve had a taste of running my own business, I’m not sure I could go back to all that.’

Mary had plonked herself on the edge of the kitchen table. ‘Sometimes you do talk utter rot, Dottie. You’re just putting up obstacles. What does it matter when two people love each other?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘My Tom had his own Post Office when I met him.’

‘So?’

‘I worried that he was just looking for a post mistress to help him,’ Mary went on. ‘I mean, I’m hardly Joan Crawford, am I? Just look at me.’ She was dressed for bed in her nightie and plaid dressing gown; her moth-eaten slippers peeped out from underneath and her hair was in curlers.

Dottie laughed and gave her a cuddle.

‘When my Tom married me,’ Mary went on, ‘I was a fat widow with three kids. Now I’m an even fatter wife with five kids.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ Dottie laughed. ‘Tom doesn’t care a stuff about any of that. He’s crazy about you. He just wanted to be with you … to love you …’ Her voice trailed and Mary lifted one eyebrow.

‘Precisely. And your John feels the same about you.’

‘I’m not so sure …’

‘Dottie, the man loves you,’ said Mary in a slightly exasperated tone. ‘For heaven’s sake, relax a little. Encourage him when he’s being loving towards you. You’re a warm person. It’s about time you knew what real love is. Give him a chance. Just let him love you …’

Just let him love you. The words had played over and over in her mind ever since and now that she was in his car, heading towards Yapton, she couldn’t think of anything else. Mary was right. He was so gentle, so caring. All through those dark and terrible days, the thought that he was still there had kept her going. They’d had some wonderful times during the past year, but did he really love her enough to want to be together for the rest of their lives? She glanced at his profile as he drove and her whole being lurched with desire. Mary had said it was about time she knew what real love was, and now at last, she knew Mary was right. But was it too late? Oh, John … John … have I been a complete idiot?

‘Looks like we’ll have a white Christmas,’ he said, suddenly turning to look at her.

Dottie’s face coloured and she looked away quickly. She was glad the inside of the car was dark. ‘I hope we don’t get snowed in,’ she remarked light-heartedly.

‘I hope we do,’ he said and they both laughed.

Encourage him, Mary said. Dottie took a deep breath and her heart was in her mouth but she took a chance. She reached out and put her hand on his leg. She felt him stiffen. Oh God, she shouldn’t have done it. What would he think of her? She began to take her hand away but he reached out, caught it and put it back on his leg. Neither of them spoke but they drove for several miles with his hand pressed over hers.

His mother’s cottage looked as pretty as a picture postcard as they stepped out into the road. They hurried up the path. Dottie reached out for the doorbell but John caught her hand. ‘Hang on a minute,’ he said breathlessly. ‘I’ve left something in the car.’

He took a few minutes to find whatever it was but eventually he ran back up the path. Although she was standing under the porch, the dormant rambling rose hanging over the roof afforded little protection from the prevailing wind. ‘Hurry up,’ she laughed, as she stamped her feet to keep warm. ‘It’s perishing cold here.’

He stopped short of the doorway and knelt on the ground.

‘What are you doing?’ she said; ever practical, added, ‘John, you’ll ruin your trousers.’

‘I love you, Dottie, darling,’ he said gravely. ‘Will you marry me?’

She caught her breath. The sight of him, kneeling on the freezing cold pathway, the snow falling steadily onto his upturned face was almost too much. He loved her … he loved her …

‘Oh, John, you’re beginning to look like a snowman,’ she laughed, afraid of the trembling passion rising in her veins.

‘Then put me out of my misery,’ he said, opening a small red box and holding it up to her. ‘Please say yes. It doesn’t have to be right away if you don’t want it. I’ll wait for as long as it takes, but please, please say you’ll marry me.’

She glanced down at the diamond ring, twinkling in the moonlight. The sighing of the wind through the bare rose bush seemed to echo Mary’s words. Just let him love you …

Shivering furiously, she looked into his dear, dear face. ‘Oh, yes, John, yes.’

With a broad grin, he slipped the ring on the third finger of her left hand. It fitted perfectly. Then he stood up and opened out his coat. She went into his arms, the warmth of his body and his gentle kiss chasing away all the bitterness and sorrow of her cold and loveless yesterdays.