Megan of Merseyside (20 page)

He stopped, startled and apprehensive as Watkin stood up and, placing both hands on the desk, leaned forward until their faces were only inches apart.

‘My daughter still hasn’t regained consciousness!’
muttered
Watkin, his voice bitter. ‘Perhaps you should tell your son that!’

‘What on earth are you talking about, Williams?’

‘My Lynn’s been unconscious ever since the accident.’

‘Good God! I had no idea she was that seriously hurt! Why didn’t you say so when you first came into my office,’ blustered Martin Walker. ‘Good heavens, this is terrible.’ He pulled out a large white handkerchief and began mopping his brow.

‘The doctors don’t hold out much hope,’ Watkin went on, ‘and they warned me that even if she does regain consciousness she will probably be brain damaged.’ He turned away, shoulders bowed, and walked towards the door.

‘Look, Williams … if there is anything I can do … If you need more time off …’ Mr Walker’s voice trailed away uncertainly.

Watkin and Kathy were both at her bedside when the end came. Although he felt a sense of relief, Watkin was beside himself with grief.

Kathy accepted the news with the same numb blankness that she had shown all through the vigil. It was almost as if her mind refused to take in what had happened.

Watkin signed all the relevant papers, but it was Megan who read them through and Megan, helped by Robert Field, who organised the simple funeral.

It was a glorious morning in late June when, sombre-faced, they sat in the black limousine that followed the hearse from Belgrave Street, along Manor Road to Rake Lane Cemetry. If only they’d
stayed
in Beddgelert, Megan thought wistfully, this tragedy might never have happened.

It was hard to believe that Lynn was gone for ever. She could never remember a time when Lynn had not been part of her life. All their petty quarrels were forgotten. She could only remember Lynn’s vivaciousness and her wide, cheeky smile.

Lynn had loved life so much, enjoyed every second. To have died so young and under such tragic circumstances was such a waste, Megan thought sadly.

When the short service ended and they emerged from the cool darkness of the chapel into the brilliant sunlight once again, Megan was astonished by the mountain of flowers banked up outside.

Sprays, crosses, and wreaths bearing fond messages of farewell, confirmed how popular Lynn had been. One wreath of pure white flowers seemed to stand out from all the others. Curious to see who it was from, Megan bent down to read the card and was taken aback when she read the words
Walker’s Shipping Company
. As far as she knew there had been no collection which meant the wreath could only have been sent by Mr Walker himself.

As she stood up, Megan saw her father was watching her closely, his mouth grim, his eyes hostile, and a ripple of unease ran through her. She turned away quickly, wondering what he was thinking.

In their initial reports of the accident, the local newspapers had made quite a feature of the fact that Flash was also Miles Walker and that Lynn’s father was employed by Walker’s.

Eager to make as much as they could of such a story, reporters had called at the house, wanting to interview members of the family. Robert had dealt with them, politely but firmly, and sent them on their way.

Now Megan was worried in case it was all revived with the news of Lynn’s death. Her parents had been through enough; further speculation and scandal would be intolerable.

‘I shouldn’t think there’s much chance of them showing any further interest,’ Robert assured her when she voiced her concern to him. ‘The accident is yesterday’s news. If Lynn had died right away then they might have built it up. Now she’s merely another statistic,’ he added bitterly.

The accident had brought them closer together. Robert was such a tower of strength that she automatically turned to him with her problems. Nothing was ever too much trouble for him and, because he was less emotionally influenced by what had happened, he was able to see things more logically.

He had also been a stalwart support to her father through the crisis. Often when her father left the house in the morning he looked like a man sleepwalking, and certainly in no fit state to be behind the wheel of a lorry. Megan suspected that it had been Robert who had undertaken most of the driving over the past months.

The days when she and her father had been close and confided in each other were no more. Sometimes he was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t even reply when she spoke
to
him. He rarely mentioned Lynn and Megan hesitated to do so in case it distressed him further.

The person most severely affected by all that had happened was Kathy Williams. Drained of colour and vitality, she looked an old woman. Megan was so worried about her that she sought advice from the doctor. He prescribed a tonic and suggested that Kathy might benefit from a holiday.

‘Your mother needs a complete change so that she can distance herself from what has happened,’ he told Megan. ‘She won’t improve while she’s clinging to her memories, reliving the accident and your sister’s last days.’

‘Perhaps if I took Mam on a visit to Beddgelert it might do her good,’ Megan suggested after she had told her father what the doctor had said.

‘Nonsense! She hated the place as you well know,’ he said wearily. ‘It was the reason we came here to live!’

Megan was about to argue that what he said was only partially true. It hadn’t been the sole reason for their move but she realised it wasn’t the time to point that out.

‘Why don’t you take Mam away for a holiday, then, just the two of you?’ she suggested.

‘Holiday!’ His scornful tone made it sound sinful.

‘Think of it as a cure for her,’ Megan persisted. ‘Go over to the Isle of Man, or to London. Mam used to love shops so perhaps London is the answer.’

‘All that would be doing is changing one city for another,’ he muttered scathingly.

Megan persisted so consistently that finally Watkin agreed to talk it over with his wife, but Kathy turned all his suggestions down and steadfastly refused to consider a holiday.

‘I want to stay here with Lynn,’ she said firmly. ‘As long as I am in this house she’s close to me. Whenever I can touch her things I can feel her here beside me.’

‘That’s morbid, our mam, and you know it,’ Megan told her exasperatedly. ‘It would do you both good to get away for a few days,’ she pleaded. ‘While you’re gone I’ll turn out Lynn’s room and get rid of her things …’

For the first time since the accident, her mother seemed to come alive. Eyes blazing, her voice strident, she turned on Megan, upbraiding her for her lack of feeling.

‘You never did have any time for Lynn,’ she railed. ‘Now you want to wipe out all my memories of her. I won’t let you do it, though. You’re not to touch a single thing of hers, not one! Her room is to stay as it is … exactly as she left it. You’re not to go in there. Do you understand?’

The row ended with Megan being the one in tears. Not even Watkin could calm Kathy down. She was incensed by the idea of Megan tidying away Lynn’s belongings.

From then on Lynn’s room and everything in it became like a shrine that Kathy dusted and polished every day.

Megan felt mortified, even when Robert pointed out that the altercation had been beneficial.

‘Now she is back in the real world she will come
to
terms with her grief and gradually accept the fact that Lynn is gone,’ he reassured Megan.

They were sitting in Robert’s car on New Brighton promenade, watching the brilliance of an August sunset. It had been a baking hot day and they were enjoying the cool breeze that swept in from the Irish Sea.

‘That’s not your only problem, though, is it, Megan?’ he said gently, reaching out and taking her hand.

‘No!’ She sighed and shot a quick sideways glance at him and was relieved to find he was staring out to sea.

‘What else is wrong?’

‘Mr Walker’s attitude. He seems distant. I think that perhaps he blames me for the accident!’

‘That’s ridiculous.’ Robert frowned. ‘How could it have had anything to do with you?’

Megan remained silent, searching for the right words to explain the predicament she found herself in.

‘Do you mean because Lynn was your sister he might be thinking you were the one who introduced her to Miles?’

‘No, it was something that happened immediately before the accident.’ She hesitated, wondering if she should tell Robert, yet knowing she had to confide in someone since it had prayed on her mind ever since.

‘Go on.’ Robert didn’t look round, but his hand squeezed hers reassuringly.

‘You remember the day it happened … You met me coming out of the hospital. I didn’t know
anything
about Lynn then, only that Miles had been in an accident. The reason I was so upset was because less than an hour before it happened Miles and I had a terrible row. He’d slammed out of the office in a violent temper. When the phone call came to say he had been in an accident I felt I was to blame. That was why I went to the hospital.’

‘Go on.’

‘When I saw Miles lying there, all wired up to tubes and drips and things, and a cage over the lower part of the bed, I went to pieces. I didn’t realise there was anyone else in the room.’

The hand covering hers tightened but he said nothing.

Megan took a deep breath. ‘Mrs Walker was sitting on the far side of the bed, hidden by all the pulleys and things so I didn’t notice she was there. She made some very cutting remarks and more or less ordered me to leave.’

‘And you think Mrs Walker may have mentioned your visit to see Miles to her husband?’

‘Well, he’s certainly very off-hand with me these days.’

‘He could be feeling uncomfortable knowing that Miles was responsible for your sister’s death,’ Robert told her quietly.

She gave him a startled look. ‘I hadn’t thought of that!’ She gave a relieved smile. ‘Thanks, Robert! You’ve been such a tower of strength over these last few weeks,’ she added gratefully.

‘Glad to have been of service,’ he told her with a humourless smile, releasing her hand.

‘It’s going to take time for us all to forget what
has
happened,’ said Megan. ‘I miss Lynn so very much. It feels as if nothing will ever be quite the same again.’

‘And how about things between you and Miles?’ demanded Robert abruptly.

‘I haven’t spoken to him since the accident.’

‘On purpose?’

‘We seem to have been avoiding each other.’ She shrugged despairingly. ‘I don’t know what to say and I don’t suppose he does, either.’

‘Give it time!’ He stared ahead into the golden sunset, a glazed look of hopelessness in his eyes. Miles Walker had so much to answer for, he thought bitterly.

‘Oh Robert, I’m so miserable!’

Suddenly her defences crumbled. She had refused to give way to tears but now they rolled unchecked down her cheeks, her shoulders heaving as huge sobs engulfed her.

Robert gathered her into his arms as if she was a small child. Rocking her, crooning words of comfort, gently stroking her dark hair.

He wanted to cry with her. Not because of Miles, or Lynn, but because she was so blind to the love he had to offer her. He was ready to protect her from the world, if only she would give him the chance.

He was still cradling her in his arms when the sun dipped into the sea and twilight gave way to velvety darkness. Stars sprinkled the skyline. Out at the Bar a ship that had been lying at anchor, waiting for the tide to turn, embarked on a new journey.

Megan had dried her tears but was still leaning against him, her head resting on his chest so intimately that he was finding her presence disturbing. Her perfume, the softness of her body pressing against him, were rousing his senses to a pitch where self-control was becoming increasingly difficult.

‘I love you, Megan. I want you so much, my darling.’ He breathed the words into the scented sweetness of her hair, longing to say them louder, but he knew it was not the right time to do so.

He must go on being patient. At the moment, if he declared his feelings, she would probably run like a scared rabbit.

Chapter Twenty-one

MEGAN FOUND IT
was impossible to cut Miles out of her thoughts. Lynn’s death had made her feel much more vulnerable. The hard outer shell she had intended to build as a barrier between them, so that she could concentrate on her career and forget all about him, simply crumbled away.

Remembering every detail of her bitter quarrel with Miles, she dreaded the thought of their first meeting when he came back to work again. Yet she was impatient for him to return to the office because there were so many questions to be answered.

His relationship with Lynn puzzled her. She was determined to find out whether he had known that they were sisters and had been deliberately two-timing them both.

Simon Gregson, a thin, sallow man in his early thirties, with short spiky hair and light-hazel eyes behind pebble glasses, had been taken on to assist Bob Donovan at the dockside. Whenever he came into the office to report to Stanley Newbold, Megan’s spirits would sink, knowing it meant that Miles had still not returned to work.

It was January 1928 before Miles returned to work and when he did his position in the firm changed. Now that he had managerial qualifications
he
no longer worked on the dockside but in the office as assistant to his father.

Megan found it embarrassing the first time she was called in to take dictation and found them closeted together. She had expected Miles to look thin and haggard. Instead, he was deeply tanned, and when she learned that he had been recuperating in the south of Spain she felt annoyed and angry.

While she had spent sleepless nights worrying about his injuries he had been sunning himself on a beach, she thought bitterly.

His manner was even more brusque than before and he was adept at avoiding her. Whether this was because of guilt over the accident, or because he had been two-timing her, Megan couldn’t be sure.