Living a Lie (49 page)

Susan’s face twisted with hatred.

“You had no right to marry me when you still loved her!”

“But you knew that from the start,” he argued.

“I never lied to you.”

“You never told me the whole truth either!”

Grabbing her hand, he held it out.

“I put that ring on your finger, Susan, with all the best intentions in the world. I wanted to take care of you, to be with you, to honour and obey like I promised in the wedding vows. But you wouldn’t let it happen. Marriage is a two-way thing, but you couldn’t see that. You didn’t want to work at it, and now I’m glad because it makes my leaving that much easier.”

Her eyes narrowed and in a voice so heavy with loathing he could hardly recognise it, she hissed, “Go on then. Get out. I won’t play second fiddle to anyone. Especially not to Kitty Marsh.”

He merely nodded. There was nothing left to say. As he turned, she scraped her finger nails against his neck, drawing blood.

“I hate you.”

He felt ashamed.

“I honestly didn’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.

With the tips of his fingers he stroked her face;

it was silky soft, like the ears of a cat.

“You’ll be better off without me,” he said.

“When you get used to the idea, you’ll realise that.”

On slow heavy footsteps he went upstairs and began to pack a bag. She followed him, ranting and raving, shaking her fists and threatening all kinds of retribution. He made no comment, just went on packing, thinking it was better for her to get it out of her system before he left, because once he went through that door he was never coming back.

He had the suitcase in his hand and was walking across the room when the telephone rang. He didn’t answer it. Neither did she. Instead she stared at him, blocking his way.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

she taunted.

“It might be your precious Kitty Marsh. Or it might be that maniac who called while you were out, making your devious plans.”

He merely smiled and pushed his way past. He hadn’t wanted it to get ugly. He knew that when the dust was settled, she really would be better off without him.

“I’ll let you know where I’m staying. I won’t be leaving Blackburn for a while. There’s a deal of tidying up to do before I can shut shop altogether.” The phone was still ringing, its insistent tones buzzing in his brain. When she flung out her arm and sent it flying across the room, he simply reached down, picked it up and replaced the receiver. He could hear a woman’s voice at the other end of the line, frantic and high-pitched. He assumed it was one of her drinking cronies. They all tended to be hysterical.

As he went down the stairs, the phone rang again. This time Susan snatched it up, yelled something obscene into the receiver and threw it down again.

“Where are you going?” she cried as he left her.

“It’s four o’clock in the morning, for pity’s sake. You can’t leave me like this. What will people think?”

He shook his head at that. So it was her pride that was hurting? He’d had her figured out right after all. If he knew anything for sure, he knew she would come to no harm. Susan was a taker. More often than not it was the takers of this world who came out on top.

Outside, he threw the suitcase into the back of the car. He didn’t want to waste time opening the boot. The sooner he was gone from here, the sooner the two of them could begin again.

“Damn!” He had forgotten his jacket, thrown it over the banister as he went into the house earlier.

“Left my wallet, credit cards… everything!”

He glanced back, thinking she might be standing at the door. To his relief there was no sign of her. Leaving the car door open he raced up the path. The front door was open. Susan was on the telephone, her face flushed bright red as she screamed down the receiver: “If you ring here again, I’ll call the police and have you locked up!”

At the back of his mind he recalled her saying something about a ‘maniac’ ringing when he wasn’t here. He couldn’t leave it like that.

While Susan was still his wife, he counted himself responsible for her welfare. Calmly taking the phone from her, he demanded in a firm voice, “Who is this?”

At the other end, Georgie gave a sigh of relief.

“Thank God!” she cried.

“I’ve been trying to get you for two bleedin’ days. Your office number’s been engaged for most of the time, and just now there was a madwoman on the end of this line, threatening to have me jailed for life. If that was your wife” I feel sorry for you, because it’s her who wants sodding well locking up! “

It took a while before Harry realised who talked in a cheeky voice, interspersed with swear words and a warped sense of humour. He glanced sideways. Susan was pacing the sitting room, out of earshot.

“Georgie?” he asked in a whisper.

“Is that really you?” His solemn features broke into a smile.

“Who the bleedin’ hell d’you think it is? Look, I ain’t got much time.

I’ve crept out me bed and I’m standing here half naked, but I just had to ring you. Kitty’s getting married to Jack Harpur tomorrow. She’s said herself she doesn’t love him. She loves you, she always has.

She’s marrying him because he paid off a huge debt to get me out of the moneylender’s clutches. She says it’s nothing to do with that, but I know it is. You’ve got to stop her from making the biggest mistake of her life. Even if she can’t have you, she mustn’t ruin her life . You can make her see sense, Harry. You’ve always been able to talk to her. Please! Get here as quick as you can. ” She gave him Kitty’s address, and then with a little gasp added, ” I can hear her moving about. I’ve got to go. If she finds out I’ve phoned you, she’ll have my bleedin’ guts for garters. “

Excited and worried all at the same time. Harry went from the house at a run. Behind him he could hear Susan’s voice.

“Go on then! You’ll be back. You’ll want me before I want you.”

He was two miles down the road before he realised he still hadn’t collected his jacket.

“How the hell can I travel the best part of two hundred miles without any money?” he wondered. Nearing the local garage he flicked out the indicator and steered his car to the pumps.

Filling the tank to the limit he told the young man behind the counter, “Put it on my account, Mike.” He had no immediate cash;

even the petty cash box at the office was empty. He could have made a phone call and borrowed money, but that would waste time. Anyway, what did he want money for? He had the means of getting to Kitty, and that was all he cared about.

The Me was busy as usual, vehicles baring up and down like there was no tomorrow.

“Tired of living some of them,” Harry muttered threading his way into the fast lane. Once there he put his foot down, but didn’t get very far. Three miles along the road was jammed solid, with traffic at a standstill and no sign that it would soon be moving.

“This is all I need!” Harry moaned. If he could only get to the slip-road he could leave the motorway and make his way south by another route.

For the moment there was nothing he could do but wait. Minutes passed, then half an hour. Suddenly the traffic edged forward and he breathed a sigh of relief. It stopped again, and he cursed out loud. A white van behind him was too close for comfort. He hung out of his window and nagged for the driver to keep his distance. All he got for his trouble was two fingers in the air.

“Crazy bastard!” Harry muttered, quelling the urge to get out and give him a piece of his mind.

When the flow of traffic picked up speed he went with it. The white van was on his tail, dogging him every inch of the way, too close for comfort, making his blood rise. Ahead he could see the warning lights flashing. He slowed down, glanced at the dashboard clock, and saw that already it was half-past five, and he was only as far as Manchester.

He had to get to Kitty. He had to tell her the way things were. Maybe there was a chance for them after all. Dear God he hoped so!

The driver of the white van was too close.

“Are you blind or what?”

Agitated, Harry glanced in his mirror, deliberately pumping his foot on the brake. He had to let the fool know there was traffic built up ahead.

Cars were swerving from one side to the other, searching for the faster moving lane. When an articulated lorry almost took him with it.

Harry slammed on his brakes.

“Jesus!” He shook his head, thanking his lucky stars he hadn’t been dragged to an early grave. No sooner had he put a distance between himself and the truck than there was an almighty crunch from behind and he was hurtled backwards and forwards, feeling as though his neck had been wrenched from the rest of his body. But he wasn’t hurt. He was angry. White-hot, raging angry as he got out of the car and saw the damage. The back end of his car was squeezed like a concertina. The driver of the white van got out of his cab. A burly unshaven man of about thirty years old, he sauntered over to see the damage.

“I’ll ‘ave you for this,” he threatened.

“You’re a bloody menace on the roads!” Taking out a piece of paper from his pocket he began writing down Harry’s registration number.

“I’ll want your insurance details as well.”

Harry couldn’t believe his ears.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded.

“I think your brains must be scrambled. You’ve hounded me every inch of the way… pushing up close to my boot and hemming me in whenever the traffic slowed. Never mind about damaging my car and wasting my precious time, it’s a wonder you haven’t caused a major incident!”

The big fellow’s face hardened.

“Are you saying I’m a bad driver?” He took a pace forward, leering menacingly at Harry and obviously trying to intimidate him.

Because of the obnoxious smell that emanated from the man’s filthy clothes, Harry would have taken a step back but he was burning inside.

“No, I’m not saying you’re a bad driver,” he corrected.

“I’m saying you’re a danger to every other driver and should never be allowed on the roads.”

With surprising agility, the man lurched forward. Grabbing Harry by the shoulders, he made to lift him from the ground. In that split second Harry caught sight of cruel eyes and thought the man really was mad. He thought of Kitty too, and that was the spur he needed. With one mighty effort he freed himself from the man’s grasp. Drawing his fist behind him, he brought it forward with alarming speed. When it crashed into the man’s grinning face it made a sickening sound and, for a moment, he was stunned. But only for a moment. Harry saw he was after blood and neatly sidestepped a series of clumsy blows.

“Good on yer!” shouted a passing driver, and there was a chorus of cheers as the traffic began moving on.

Suddenly Harry found himself being arrested.

“Causing a fracas on the highway,” said the officer.

“We’ll have the pair of you in the car … now!”

At the station, he was almost out of his mind.

“I’ve got to get to Bedford,” he told the officer.

“I’ll sign whatever you want, but I’ve got to get out of here.”

“You should have thought of that before you caused an accident and then decided to beat up this fellow.” He pointed to the big man who was skulking in the corner.

“You’re nicked. You’re both nicked.”

Suddenly the big fellow lunged forward, sending the officer flying to get at Harry. He gave as good as he got, and it took two other officers to separate them. In a minute they were being marched out.

“The pair of you can cool off in a cell,” they were told. Fortunately for the big man, he and Harry were locked up in different areas.

Kitty came into the sitting room and set the tray down. Looking up, she saw that Georgie had her head pressed to the window again.

“I

don’t know what you find so fascinating out there,” Kitty laughed.

“You’ve had your nose stuck to that window all evening.”

Edgy by now, Georgie came away and sat in the chair opposite. She gratefully accepted the cup of chocolate and seemed to relax when in fact she was desperately praying for that knock on the door, the knock that told her Harry was here and Kitty would be made to see what a terrible mistake she was making.

Kitty was intrigued.

“What’s wrong with you? You’re not nervous about tomorrow, are you?” It was a funny thing, but now that the day was almost on her she had somehow come to accept her future role as Jack’s wife.

Instead of answering the question, Georgie apologised.

“I’m sorry I didn’t want to go out tonight,” she said.

“I hope you didn’t mind too much, gal?”

Kitty shrugged her shoulders.

“We can always have another night out, another time,” she promised.

“It doesn’t have to be a hen night.” In fact she wasn’t too bothered herself about going out. Accepting her marriage to Jack was one thing. Celebrating it was another.

“Are you sure you still want to go through with it?” Georgie asked softly.

“It still isn’t too late to change your mind.”

Before Kitty could answer another voice intervened.

“Of course she’s still going through with it.” Mildred came in from the kitchen.

Placing a plate of cakes on the coffee table, she told Georgie in a tone of reprimand, “Any girl would give her eye teeth to be in Kitty’s shoes when she walks down that aisle tomorrow.”

Georgie could understand why Mildred was so in favour of Kitty being wed to a wealthy man like Jack Harpur,

but still hadn’t forgotten how she had cheated Kitty, and it showed in her voice as she replied, “In my book, a girl doesn’t marry a man unless she loves him.”

Mildred sat down, her expression giving nothing away as she said sweetly, “Love isn’t everything. Jack Harpur is a good kind man, and he thinks the world of Kitty.” She smiled at her niece, who was taking it all in.

“He’ll give Kitty a good life … take care of her. When a family comes along, he’ll be a splendid father too.”

Georgie looked at Kitty.

“Are you happy, though? When you walk down that aisle tomorrow, will you be content?”

Kitty thought about that. In fact she had thought about nothing else for weeks now.