Peppercorn Street (7 page)

What was going to happen to them now? Would his dad snap out of it? Or would his mum come back if he begged her, promised to do more?

Nicole felt embarrassed as she went into the library on Tuesday morning. She’d slept badly, unable to settle in a strange place and it had felt weird to wake on her own and get her breakfast without interruptions. She’d put a lot of her possessions away, but there were still a few things to sort out.

Her boss cocked one eyebrow as she walked through the staff room to hang up her coat. ‘You all right?’

‘I’m fine. I must give you my new address. I’m getting a landline connection but they can’t fix that till tomorrow.’

‘Good, good.’

Helen demanded much more information and in between customers Nicole gave her a blow-by-blow account of the weekend and the move.

‘Want to go out for a meal tonight?’ Helen asked in a lull between customers.

Nicole hesitated. ‘Another time, if you don’t mind. I’m still getting the flat straight.’ And she didn’t want to risk meeting anyone she knew and having to tell them. Or worse still, running into Sam.

She went to work at the returns and issuing desk near the entrance and as they were busy, the morning passed quite quickly.

Just before noon she looked up to see William come through the door.

‘Isn’t that your elder son?’ Helen asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Phew! Storm brewing!’

He stood for a moment, looking big and surly, then cut rudely across the path of an older woman to reach the counter. He glared at his mother. ‘I need some money for food – for me and Paul. Twenty pounds will keep us going for a day or two.’

She was so shocked she couldn’t speak for a moment or two, then she shook her head. ‘Ask your father. He’s in charge of household matters now.’

‘He was gone by the time I woke up this morning.’

‘Well, ask him tonight, then.’

He thumped one clenched fist on the desk, making her jump. ‘I’m hungry now and I’m not leaving till you bloody well give me the money!’

She nearly did it, nearly went to fetch money from her purse in the staff area, then she pulled herself together, mentally running over the food supplies she’d left behind. ‘There are some beans, tins of fruit, packets of biscuits, enough to keep you going till tonight.’

‘I want some proper food. Meat. Eggs. Bacon.’ He leant forward. ‘And I’m quite prepared to create a scene if you don’t give me the money.’

He’d said the wrong thing. She might have fetched him a couple of pounds, but she wasn’t going to be bullied. And she certainly wasn’t giving him twenty. ‘Why aren’t you at school?’

‘Suspended for a week.’

‘But you’ve only just gone back! What did you do now?’

He shrugged. ‘Refused to listen to rubbish from one of the feminist lezzos on the staff.’

‘Don’t use that word,’ she said automatically. ‘What did your dad say about that?’

‘He didn’t even open the letter. And if he had, he’d not have done anything. He hardly says a word about anything these days. I think he’s losing it.’ William pointed to his head and made a circular motion with his forefinger. Then he thumped the desk again. ‘I
need
some money! Give me some!’

‘No.’

He swept a pile of books off the desk with such force they scattered across the floor. Customers scattered too, taking refuge behind the bookshelves, since he was between them and the entrance.

When she didn’t move, William gave her a nasty grin and reached out for the computer screen, grabbing that.

Instinctively she held on to it to stop him moving it, horrified that her son would behave like this.

He continued to smile, with the sneering confidence of a bully confronting a smaller, weaker person. ‘If you don’t give me the money, I can easily bust this.’

‘And if you do, we’ll call in the police,’ a voice said near her.

She turned in relief to see her boss standing next to William.

‘Your older son? No wonder you left home.’

With a roar of fury, William punched him in the face, knocking him to the ground, glared at his mother and said, ‘You’ve not heard the last of this.’ He turned and ran out, shoving another woman aside.

People came rushing up as Michael struggled to his feet.

‘Call the police,’ he said, holding a tissue someone had given him to his bleeding lip.

Nicole hesitated.

‘I know he’s your son, but he’s big and violent, and he needs bringing up short.’

She realised he was right and made the call.

Two police officers came within minutes. They looked round outside but there was no sign of William, which didn’t surprise her. Then they took over Michael’s office and interviewed everyone involved in turn.

Nicole felt utterly humiliated by what had happened, but didn’t try to minimise what her son had done.

‘I should definitely watch your step,’ the officer told her. ‘He sounds like a very angry young man. Do you think he’s – on something?’

‘Drugs?’ She looked at him in shock.

‘Violent mood swings, always needing money, that sort of thing?’

‘Yes. He’s changed. But I don’t see how he could afford drugs. I mean, they’re quite expensive, aren’t they? I thought it was just, you know, hormones going wild. He’s grown so much lately. He’s a man physically now.’

‘Anything else going wrong?’

‘Yes. He’s been suspended from school for bullying. Twice. And he was trying to bully me into giving him money today. That’s not how we brought him up.’

His voice softened. ‘Kids go off the rails sometimes, we don’t know why. You could be right. It could just be too much testosterone. But it might be drugs, so bear that in mind. Look, we’ll drop by your house a couple of times during the day and see if we can catch him.’

‘Um – I’m not there any more. I left home yesterday.’

‘Ah. That’ll have upset him.’

‘Only because he’s lost a cook–housekeeper!’

‘Do you have your husband’s work phone number?’

When she went for her lunch break, she sat numbly in the chair, still unable to believe what had happened. She took out a sandwich and put it away again, bit into an apple, but only ate half before putting that back into her bag as well.

Was William’s behaviour her fault for leaving home? No, she didn’t think so. He’d been belligerent and rude for a while now, in trouble at school several times during the past year, mixing with a group older than himself outside school, people he never brought home. She’d seen him with them, though.

Should she ring Sam? No, the police were going to do that. She’d just – get on with her own life. Dealing with William was out of her hands now she’d left home, especially now that the police had been called in.

Surely William wouldn’t risk coming here again after the police had cautioned him? They were bound to find him soon. He’d have to go home to eat and sleep, after all.

She remembered William’s threat suddenly.
You’ve not heard the last of this
. And shivered.

Janey decided to go to the
Just Girls
group that afternoon. She wouldn’t know anyone there because the hostel where she’d stayed at had been on the other side of her hometown, Swindon, but she didn’t usually have trouble making friends.

She felt very cut off from her former friends now,
though. Having the baby had broken the links. She couldn’t get together with them because there were no convenient bus routes and anyway, getting on a bus with a baby and all its gear was not something to be lightly undertaken. She couldn’t even email them unless she went into the library or an Internet café. And phone calls from a pay phone cost money, something she didn’t have much of.

So she was going to make a huge effort to find new friends.

It was colder today and looked as if it was going to rain but she still preferred to be out and about so she went for a short walk. Staying in one room all day with not even a television or computer was very depressing.

As she got ready to go out again in the afternoon, she began to feel a bit nervous, wondering what the other girls would be like. How many would there be? Would some of them be intelligent? That sounded snobbish. Was she snobbish? She hoped not. At the hostel several of the girls had spent most of their time goggling at the television and gossiping. They’d talked only of their babies and fashions, the guys they’d known and the television programmes they watched. She’d found that boring.

Outside the shabby shop front with the
Just Girls
sign above it she hesitated, then forced herself to go inside.

Dawn poked her head out of the back. ‘Ah, there you are, Janey! I was hoping you’d come today. We have another new girl joining us – well, I hope we do. Come through. Bring the buggy, but there’s a step down, so mind how you go.’

She led the way and Janey followed, suddenly remembering a poem she’d once studied:

Now which poet was that? Oh yes, Tennyson. Only there weren’t six hundred here today, just five other girls, three babies of assorted sizes and two toddlers. But she still felt as if she was moving into dangerous territory.

Oh, don’t be such a fool!
She told herself.
They’re only girls like you. Just get on with it
. She forced a smile and moved forward to where Dawn was waiting to introduce her.

The others seemed rather quiet as Dawn tried to get a discussion going, but when she was called away, they talked more freely – about their babies and the way their families were treating them.

‘What’s it like at your home?’ one asked Janey.

‘My parents threw me out before Millie was born, so I’m on my own. The council found me a flat.’

‘You lucky thing! My mother’s driving me mad. She won’t let me go out at night unless she approves of where I’m going and who with, and she’ll only babysit once a week.’

‘It can be lonely living on your own and it’s a struggle to make ends meet. I’ve not got anyone to babysit.’

But she couldn’t convince them that her life wasn’t a bed of roses.

The other new girl didn’t turn up at all.

Janey felt disappointed as she got ready to leave, saw Dawn looking at her thoughtfully and tried to hurry up.
But Millie started crying just then and by the time she’d settled her down, Janey was left alone with the older woman.

‘You need something to occupy your mind,’ Dawn said abruptly.

‘I read quite a lot.’

‘Not the same. You were doing your A levels when you got pregnant, weren’t you? Why didn’t you finish the course and take the exams?’

‘My parents threw me out and I was too upset to think straight for a while.’

‘If I have a word with the local college, will you go back to studying? You ought to be able to get at least one A level this year, perhaps even two.’

Janey stared at her, then surprised herself by bursting into tears, which made Millie start howling again.

Dawn settled her down with a cup of tea. ‘What made you cry?’

‘There’s nothing I’d like more than to go on studying, only what do I do with Millie while I’m at classes and how do I afford the books? My parents wouldn’t let me take my computer, so I won’t even be able to do assignments properly.’

Dawn patted her shoulder. ‘They have a crèche at the college. And we’ll look into getting you a computer, perhaps even an Internet connection. Would that make a difference?’

‘All the difference in the world.’ She chased another of those tears with her crumpled tissue.

‘Don’t quote me, but those girls today, nice as they are, aren’t the most intelligent creatures on this planet. And
you’re quite bright. Coming here won’t be enough for you.’

‘They were friendly.’

‘Yes, but you’re a bird of a different feather. Look, leave it with me. It’ll take a week or two to sort it all out, but I’m sure I can manage something.’

‘Thanks. It’d mean a lot.’ It’d give her hope for a better future, a decent job one day.

So of course she cried her eyes out when she got home. She’d never cried as much in her whole life as she had since she found she was pregnant.

He
hadn’t had to pay for the mischief he’d caused, but she’d paid dearly. She hated even to think of him. He’d got away scot-free.

As three o’clock approached, Winifred became more and more nervous. She looked at the cake, sitting on the fancy glass cake stand with its own lid that had belonged to her grandmother. The cake had turned out well. What was she worrying about? She adjusted one of the teaspoons so that it aligned perfectly with the others.

The doorbell rang at one minute to three o’clock. She nodded approvingly. People should be punctual.

When she opened the door, she found Dawn standing there, together with an older woman very like her daughter, with the same engaging smile.

‘Hello, Winifred. Here we are, taking you at your word.’

‘It’s lovely to see you. Do come in out of that dreadful wind.’ She stepped sideways and closed the door quickly. She tried to think what to say next, but to her relief, Dawn took charge of the conversation.

‘This is my mother, Hazel Rickard. Mum, this is Winifred Parfitt, who seems to read even more romances than you do.’

As she shook Hazel’s hand, Winifred felt it tremble in hers and realised that her guest was also nervous. That made her feel a bit better.

Dawn thrust the bouquet she was carrying into her hostess’s hands. ‘And this is for you, since it’s our first visit to your house.’

Winifred looked at it in delight, feeling tears rising in her eyes. ‘Oh, how lovely! I can’t remember the last time someone gave me flowers.’ And it suddenly occurred to her that her nephew never had, though why she should think about that, she didn’t know.

‘I love flowers,’ Hazel said in a softly musical voice. ‘My husband always used to buy me some on the first of the month, to start the month well, he said. Now I have to buy my own and it’s not the same.’

‘I’d forgotten that,’ Dawn said. ‘Dad was very romantic.’ The two visitors smiled sadly at one another.

Winifred waited till they turned their attention back to her. ‘We’d better sit in the kitchen. The house is too big to heat fully, so I only have radiators switched on in the hall and on each landing. That way I can heat the back part of the house properly.’

‘Very sensible.’

‘Let me take your coats.’ The flowers were passed from one to the other as she hung their coats up carefully on the hallstand and led the way into the back room, clutching the bouquet once again.

‘Oh, what a lovely view!’ Hazel exclaimed. ‘Why, you
can see right across the park from here. And you have a summer house, too.’

Winifred sighed. ‘It used to be white and looked beautiful in the moonlight, but I’m afraid it needs renovating and painting.’

‘I don’t know how you cope with a big house like this on your own,’ Hazel said.

‘I don’t cope all that well these days. I’ve had to let a lot of things go, especially the garden.’ She changed the subject. ‘Now, let me find a vase for these flowers then I’ll put the kettle on.’

But as usual the flowers stood at stiff angles and she looked at them with a sigh. ‘I’m not doing them justice. I’ve never managed to arrange flowers properly. They always defy me.’

‘Let me.’ Hazel stepped forward and magically the flowers were moved into a soft mass that looked exactly right. ‘Change the water every day and don’t fill the vase up, just put enough to cover them to an inch above the bottoms of the stems. Flowers don’t grow under water, after all.’

‘How clever you are! Oh, I shall love having these.’

After that, conversation flourished until Dawn looked at her watch. ‘Would you two mind if I leave you now? I’ve got a meeting to attend then I want to start researching the garden-sharing movement. I don’t think you’re going to do battle, do you?’

They both smiled at her, then more shyly at each other.

‘Mum lives just round the corner, so she’ll be all right finding her own way home, Miss Parfitt.’

Winifred saw her younger guest out and returned to the kitchen. ‘Shall I make another pot of tea?’

‘Oh, yes. I love my cups of tea.’ Hazel added hesitantly, ‘Do you mind me staying a bit longer? Dawn does like to organise people.’

Winifred didn’t pretend to misunderstand the hidden message. ‘I’m very grateful to Dawn for organising this meeting. That is, if
you
don’t mind?’

Hazel’s lips wobbled for a moment. ‘No. I’ve been very lonely since my best friend died.’

‘Me, too.’

‘Then let’s try each other out.’

Winifred beamed at her. ‘What a delightful way to put it!’

Later on, she asked idly, ‘What’s garden sharing?’

‘It’s a new thing where people with large gardens let other people use them to grow vegetables and in return they get a share of the produce. I think Dawn said a quarter.’

Winifred stared at her. ‘I’ve never heard of it.’

‘Aren’t you on the Internet?’

‘No. I haven’t got a clue about computers.’

‘I’ve watched Dawn use hers, but she’s far too busy to teach me properly, so I haven’t bought one of my own. She helps a lot of people in this town, but it’s a good thing she’s got a domesticated husband and her kids have left home. Look, about computers, they’re going to run classes for seniors down at the community centre. Why don’t we sign up for them?’

Winifred hesitated.

‘Go on. We’ll attend it together and laugh at each other’s mistakes. You have to know about computers these days. They’re everywhere.’

‘I haven’t known how to start. Are they very expensive to buy?’

‘Depends what you buy. I think there are cheaper ones. Dawn says she’ll help me buy one. There are funds to get seniors online. She’d help you get one, too, I’m sure.’

Winifred had a lot to think about after Hazel had left, not least that she’d been invited to tea at her new friend’s house in two days’ time.

To crown her wonderful day, her nephew rang and arranged to come round the following morning to introduce her to his new girlfriend. She would be interested to meet the woman, because he’d never introduced her to any of his girlfriends before. No, he called them ‘partners’ and he seemed to move rapidly from one to another, rarely spending more than a year with each, if that.

Perhaps she’d been doing him an injustice. Perhaps he really did care how she was. None of her other relatives had kept in touch, that was certain.

She did wish he’d settle down, though. It wasn’t right, a man of nearly forty acting like a twenty-year-old and going out with ‘chicks’ as he called them.

In the late afternoon Nicole saw her younger son come into the library and stand looking round for her. Not more trouble! She felt like ducking behind the nearest set of shelves but that would be cowardly. She wondered why he’d come. Well, he didn’t look aggressive, just uncertain and unhappy, so she waved.

His face brightened immediately.

As he came across to her, Helen mouthed, ‘All right?’ from the other side of the room.

Nicole nodded then turned to greet Paul.

‘I just wanted to check that you’re all right,’ he said. ‘I mean, you must be really upset to have left Dad.’

‘Yes. I am. I worry about you, though. Will you be all right?’

‘I suppose so. I thought you should know that after I got back from school today, the police came for William and took him away. They said they’d ring Dad.’

‘Yes. I told them Sam was in charge now.’

‘What did William do? I knew he’d done something as soon as I got in, because he had that look on his face, but he wouldn’t say what.’

‘He came in here and demanded money, threatened to make a scene if I didn’t give it him.’

‘And did you?’

‘No. So he started throwing books around, then my boss came across and William punched him.’

Paul whistled. ‘Wow! He’s really gone OTT lately.’

‘He’s not hurt you, though?’

Paul shrugged. ‘I mostly keep out of his way and I’m a bit careful when he’s around. Besides, he knows I’ve not got any money, so there’s no point in him going after me.’

She was upset to hear this dispassionate summary of what use William had for his family, but she suspected it was right. ‘What does he need money for?’

Paul wriggled uncomfortably.

‘Not … drugs?’

‘Body-building stuff – but it’s still not legal. Don’t let on that I told you.’

‘Oh, no! How’s your father taking this police thing?’

‘I don’t know because he’s not back yet. But he’s acting really strange, as if he’s living life in slow motion. He’s worse than he was before, doesn’t answer for ages if you ask him a question. And he does a lot of staring into space.’

‘I think he’s clinically depressed, but you know he won’t go and see the doctor. What about food? Are you coping?’

‘We’ve still got some tins left and I can always get some bread in.’

‘If you’re hungry, come and see me. I can always give you a meal. Only – if I give you my address, will you promise not to tell the other two? Right then, let me find a bit of paper.’

‘Don’t write it down, just tell me.’ He listened and repeated the address after her. ‘I know where Peppercorn Street is.’

‘If you feel afraid, for any reason, come to me.’

He gave her another solemn nod. He looked both young and old at the same time, but ‘together’ as kids called it these days. Paul had always been very self-contained and mature for his age. If anyone could cope with the difficult situation, it’d be him.

‘I’m a bit upset still,’ she admitted, treating him as an equal, ‘but when I’ve settled down, you must come to tea anyway. Just you.’

‘I’d like that.’ He glanced up at the library clock. ‘I’d better go. Dad was planning to take us out for an Indian meal tonight, but I don’t know when he and William will be back from the police station, or if we’re still going out.’

‘Well, if you go, don’t waste the leftovers. Take them home.’

He smiled wryly. ‘As if there’ll be any leftovers with William. He’s eating for England.’

As Paul turned to leave, she had to ask again, ‘You’re sure you’ll be all right?’

‘Yes. And Mum – keep an eye on your back. William’s furious at you, threatening all sorts of things. He’ll calm down, but still – watch your step.’

She stared after him in shock, remembering William’s parting threat.

Janey picked up Millie and went down to check on her washing. To her dismay, the machine had stopped halfway through the cycle and nothing she did would make it move on or let her open the door to take her washing out.

‘Has it finished?’

She turned to see her new neighbour from the ground floor. He looked more friendly today. She reckoned he was about forty, from the grey at his temples. And though he was grumpy, she’d guess that was because he was in pain. She didn’t feel at all nervous of him, as she did of some men. ‘The washing machine seems to have broken down.’

He limped across to look at it, repeating everything she’d tried to make it react, with as little result.

‘Damn! I wanted to get this lot finished today.’

‘I can’t get our clothes out and my baby doesn’t have very many.’

‘I’ll phone the management people.’ He dumped his basket of dirty clothes on the floor and went back into his flat. She could hear him speaking on the phone, but couldn’t make out the words.

He came back looking annoyed. ‘They don’t think they can get anyone out to look at it until tomorrow.’

‘Oh, no.’ She stared at the clothes behind the glass porthole in the washing machine. So near and yet so far.

‘We’d better put a sign on it,’ he said. ‘Or someone may mess it up further. Who else uses this, do you know?’

‘I don’t know. I’ve heard sounds from the other flat on my floor and seen a woman’s washing on the lines out at the back, but you’re the only person I’ve met face to face. I’m Janey Dobson, by the way, and this is my daughter Millie. We’re in the flat above you.’

‘Must be hard looking after her on your own.’

‘It’s worth it. I love her to pieces.’

Just then someone rang the front doorbell and he went to answer it, calling, ‘It’s for you.’

She went into the hall to see the door of his flat closing and Dawn standing there. Only then did she realise he still hadn’t told her his name.

‘Is this a bad time?’ Dawn asked.

‘Only for the washing. The machine’s broken down and I can’t even get my clothes out of it. They can’t send anyone to look at it till tomorrow.’

‘What a nuisance!’

‘It’s more than that. Most of Millie’s clothes are in there. She was sick a few times during the night, you see.’

‘Are you that short of clothes for her?’

She shrugged. ‘I manage with as few as I can because she keeps growing out of them.’

Dawn’s face took on a thoughtful look and she didn’t
speak for a moment or two. ‘Can we go up to your flat or are you standing guard on your washing?’

The ground floor tenant came limping back just then with a piece of paper.

‘You didn’t say what your name was,’ Janey prompted him.

‘Didn’t I? Sorry. I get a bit absent-minded with the painkillers. I’m Kieran Jones. And you’re Janey and Millie.’ He stuck the note to the machine and turned to leave.

What was he on regular painkillers for? she wondered. Was the limp due to an injury?

When the two women got up to the flat, Janey put Millie into the playpen, which had proved a godsend. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘I’d love one. I’ve been too busy to get anything since breakfast.’

Millie rolled around a bit, then settled to sleep in one corner, looking so peaceful that Janey said quietly, ‘I think I’ll leave her there. She had a disturbed night.’

‘She’s a well-cared-for child.’

Janey beamed at this compliment.

‘You can usually tell when a child’s loved.’

‘I love her to pieces. She’s all I’ve got now.’

‘You have yourself as well. Never forget that. Now, let me tell you why I came. I’ve been in touch with the people at the college and they’d like to see you to talk
about options. I’ve made an appointment for tomorrow afternoon and provisionally booked a place for Millie in the crèche there.’

Janey couldn’t speak for a moment then her voice came out all choked. ‘That’s … wonderful. Just … wonderful.’