Private Sorrow, A (12 page)

Yet, in a way, she was looking forward to her evening. Bridge was one of the pleasures of her life and she knew she didn’t have many of them in her lonely existence. Another thing she liked about playing at Gina’s was the fact that it didn’t cost money. Gina was most insistent that it was just a game and not a gamble. Vera hoped she had explained this to her new friends because she had heard hair-raising stories about women getting into debt with their bridge-playing friends.

Vera didn’t have a lot of money and what extra she had, she was using to hire Molly, so she had to be careful. Dave had carried a life insurance policy, which at the time had taken her by surprise at the amount. She had saved most of it but after all these years, it was dwindling. It was all right when she was working and had her lodgers but after her operation, she hadn’t been able to do a lot. That and the fact she had almost lost the will to live after Dave’s death and Etta’s vanishing act.

By now she had reached Gina’s door and was surprised it was opened almost at once. A small woman in her fifties stood inside. She was pretty in a faded kind of way but Vera thought that was because she was wearing a grey dress that matched her straight grey hair. ‘I said I would open the door and save Mrs Jankowski’s legs. Come in – what a night. We got soaked and we only live in the next close.’ She took Vera’s coat and hung it on the hook in the lobby. ‘I’m Una and my husband is Harry.’

Inside the living room, Harry and Gina were sitting by the fire, which cast a cosy glow over the room. ‘Come in, come in, Vera, and have a glass of sherry before we start our game,’ said Gina.

Vera sat down and warmed her feet at the fire. She loved this room, especially when the curtains were shut and everything was warm and homely. It put her in mind of her childhood when she would sit with her mum and dad. They would drink milky cocoa by the fire before going upstairs to the chilly bedrooms. But her bed always had a hot water bottle in it, which she hugged until she fell asleep.

Gina had set the small side table with her favourite cups and saucers and the teapot ready to be filled later. A plate of sandwiches and a plate of tiny cakes sat beside it. In spite of the rotten start to the night, Vera enjoyed herself. Gina was in sparkling form because she won the first two games, while Una and Harry were good company.

‘Yes,’ said Una. ‘Harry works in the NCR and I work in a baker’s shop at the top of the road. We just moved here recently from Strathmartine Road. Our three boys are all grown up and work away from home so we decided to sell our large house and move into a smaller flat and we love it, don’t we Harry?’

‘Yes, we do. I enjoy having no garden. Our last house had a huge garden and it was too much work. I’d rather play bridge than do gardening,’ said Harry with a laugh. At the mention of Una’s family, Vera caught Gina’s eye and got a sympathetic look in return.

At ten o’clock it was time to go home. Vera had settled down in the cosy house and didn’t relish the thought of the journey home. The storm was still blowing outside and Gina suggested that Vera stay the night. ‘I have two beds in my room,’ she said. ‘Why not stay here with me?’

Vera said no, thank you, she would be fine and it wasn’t very far to walk down the hill. Harry said, ‘I’ll walk down with you, Vera. The walk will do me good.’

By this time Vera was mortified by all this concern for her welfare. ‘No, honestly, Harry. It’s not late and there’s always people about. I’ll be fine.’

‘Are you sure?’ said Una, looking unconvinced.

‘Yes. But thank you.’

So it was settled. Vera said goodnight and walked into the darkness and the rain. At the foot of the close, she stopped. She thought of going straight down the hill but the pubs would have discharged their customers and there might be a few drunk stragglers. She made up her mind to turn left and go down Rosebank Road, Tulloch Crescent and along McDonald Street, where she would only have to walk a few yards to her close. These were streets with houses so it wasn’t as if they would be deserted at this time of night.

She put up her umbrella and marched off resolutely into the darkness. She had brought her large handbag with her, the one that was all soft and squashy like a message bag, and she held both the bag and umbrella in front of her like two shields. The street was deserted but most of the houses were lit up as she hurried past deep pools of water.

She was almost at the foot of Tulloch Crescent, just by the entrance to Rosebank School, when she thought she heard the sound of a car. The noise sounded muffled because she had wrapped her large woollen scarf around her head, so she didn’t turn round. That is why she was so surprised when it hit her. She didn’t actually see the vehicle or its headlights and had thought she was imagining the sound, but after the impact she went sprawling on the pavement, landing on her bag and umbrella.

She must have screamed, although she couldn’t remember doing it, because the curtain moved in the window of the janitor’s house in the school playground. A man hurried out and picked her up. ‘Are you all right, missus?’ he asked. ‘Better come inside and the wife will call a doctor.’

‘Oh no, please, I’m fine and just a bit shaken up by the fall. I must have tripped over the pavement.’

The man looked dubious but said, ‘Well, if you’re sure, but let me walk you home. Where do you live? Just let me get my jacket.’

Vera told him and they walked along McDonald Street. At her close she said, ‘Thank you very much.’

‘Now mind, missus. If you need medical treatment, call the doctor out.’

Vera said she would as she hurried through the close, glancing fearfully at the dark shadows and almost flying up her stairs. When she reached the door, her hands were shaking so much that she couldn’t put the key in the lock but she made herself take a deep breath until, finally, she practically stumbled into the kitchen and fell into a chair.

Her stockings were ripped, the umbrella was broken, there was wet mud on her coat and gloves, but apart from that, she seemed to be all right. When she took off her gloves, her knuckles were bruised and covered in blood and also her knees. She had a dull pain in her left hip and when she looked at it, there was a large bruise. She realised how lucky she had been. Her large bag had cushioned her fall, which meant she wasn’t as badly injured as she might have been.

She put the kettle on to boil some water to wash her wounds and to make a cup of tea but when she tried to spoon the tea into the pot, her hand shook so much that the tea leaves scattered all over the table. Instead, she swallowed two aspirin tablets with a large glass of water, which she gulped down like a drowning man. Later she climbed into bed with a hot water bottle but she couldn’t sleep. It must have been a car, she now thought. She tried to think if she had accidentally been walking on the road instead of the pavement and maybe the driver had not noticed her. There had been no sign of lights, of that she was sure. It was just the darkness, the rain and wind she remembered. She fell asleep at two o’clock, finally convincing herself it had been an unfortunate accident.

On Sunday morning, after a restless night, Molly decided to go and see Vera and give her an update on the case so far. Not that there was much to report, but after a quick breakfast, she set off.

The storm had left heaps of litter blowing about in the street and deep puddles everywhere. Molly had looked out her winter boots and she was glad she had, otherwise her feet would have been soaked long before she got to Vera’s house. The Hilltown was busy as people hurried out to the shops for milk and Sunday papers but they didn’t linger long on the street for their usual chats as the wind had turned very cold. The sky was a dark brooding mass of clouds.

Molly had planned to go over on the Fifie this afternoon to see Marigold but she didn’t relish the thought of crossing the river on such a wild and windy day. But maybe it will brighten up, she thought optimistically. When she got to Vera’s house, she was dismayed to see the curtains were closed and it looked as if Vera was still asleep. She stood at the door, uncertain whether to knock or go away. However, as she was on the verge of turning away to go down the stairs, the curtains were pulled back and Vera noticed she had a visitor.

Molly was shocked when she saw the woman. Vera had pulled a dressing gown over her short nightdress, but Molly could still see the deep grazes to her hands and knees, which looked worse in the early morning light. Vera almost pulled Molly into the house. Molly noticed the muddy coat and shoes and bag, the broken umbrella and the basin in the sink with its pink stained water. The room was also icy cold.

‘What’s happened, Vera?’ Molly said, quite alarmed by the grey pallor of Vera’s face and the mess all around the usually immaculate kitchen.

Vera burst into tears and Molly made her sit down while she put the kettle on to make her some hot tea. She also went to clean out yesterday’s ashes from the fire but Vera said to leave it. ‘I’ll get the electric fire.’ She went into the lobby and brought out a small, one-bar fire from the cupboard, which she plugged in beside the chairs. It didn’t give out much heat but it was better than nothing.

When Molly had made her comfortable with a cup of hot sweet tea and a rich tea biscuit, she asked again, ‘What happened?’

Vera’s hands were shaking as she told her story. ‘I thought I heard a car but now I’m not so sure, although I felt something hit my side. I’ve been wondering if I maybe wandered into the road and the driver might not have seen me. It was a terrible night. Then I think I might just have tripped and the muffled sound I heard was maybe a vehicle further down the road because I didn’t see any lights.’

‘Did you see a car when you left Mrs Jankowski’s house?’

‘No. I would normally have walked down the hill but I decided to take the quieter road because of the pubs coming out. Now, when I think about it, I should have kept to my original plan.’

Molly was worried by this turn of events. ‘Who knew you were going to be out last night? Don’t you normally play bridge on a Monday afternoon?’

Vera explained the reason for being out on a night when most normal people were tucked up indoors. ‘Maisie knew. She brought the letter here last week. I haven’t been back to the bridge afternoon since that day when Anita came. Harry and Una knew, but he had offered to see me home. I wish I had taken up his offer,’ she said bitterly.

Molly put the kettle back on. ‘I’ll bathe those cuts for you, Vera, they look inflamed. I can go down for my car and run you to the accident and emergency at the infirmary because I think you need a doctor to check you over. You could have some broken bones.’

But Vera was insistent that she was all right. ‘I’ll be fine once I get dressed. Now, Molly, what news have you got for me?’

Molly wished she could bring some good news to this poor woman but she didn’t have any. ‘I’ve interviewed a few of Etta’s acquaintances and workmates but I’m no further forward, Vera.’ If Vera had noticed she hadn’t used the word friends, she didn’t say. ‘I’ve spent the last two weeks checking out names, but there’s nothing to bring me any closer to the reason behind Etta’s disappearance.’ She leaned closer to her. ‘I don’t want to spend any more of your money because I think there won’t be any more news.’

Vera fished a handkerchief out of her pocket and blew her nose. She looked worse than ever. Her face was pinched and it was obvious she was in pain with her hip. ‘I’d like you to do the next two weeks, Molly, and if nothing new turns up, then I’ll just have to forget it.’

Molly nodded. ‘At least let me call the doctor for you.’

Vera said no, promising she would go to her doctor tomorrow morning.

‘Well, can I ask you some questions?’

‘All right. Go ahead.’

‘When you identified your husband, the paper said he had been in the water for some weeks. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but was he recognisable?’

Vera shivered and sat closer to the meagre heat from the little fire. ‘I didn’t really look at him. Just a quick glance but I recognised his watch. It was strange but it was still strapped to his wrist.’ She got up and hobbled over to the sideboard drawer, coming back with a grimy looking wristwatch. The leather strap was hard and brittle and it had long since given up ticking but it was a watch like Molly had never seen before. ‘Dave loved that watch. He said he got it from a German soldier in the Great War but I suspect he took it from a dead body. It was made in Germany and it has these little dials inside the face. As I said, Dave never took it off, except when he went to bed, but it was one of the first things he put on in the morning. So that’s how I recognised him. By a dead soldier’s watch – how ironic is that? Almost like it was cursed.’

Molly handed it back and Vera placed it in the drawer. ‘Did Etta ever have any boyfriends? Like the Robert or Michael McGregor who lodged with you, or someone called Pedro?’

Vera looked shocked. ‘I don’t think my lodgers would have had any romantic feelings for Etta. She was just fifteen or sixteen when they lived here. Michael was Robert’s brother and he came after Robert left. I don’t know anyone called Pedro. Do you think Pedro is Spanish? I never had any Spanish lodgers.’

Another brick wall, thought Molly. There were just a couple more queries. ‘When I looked at your address book, I saw a name that had been scored out. It looked like Ruby or something similar.’

Vera went very pale and her ravaged hand flew to her mouth. ‘She won’t be able to help you.’

‘Vera, I have to try and speak to anyone who knew Etta. Maybe she can help.’

Vera was clearly very agitated now and Molly wondered why. ‘No, she won’t be able to help and I don’t know where she lives now.’

‘Alright then. When Dave died, you were in hospital. So did the police come and tell you? And did you not wonder why Etta didn’t come to visit after the tragic news came to light?’ Molly hated having to question her, especially when she was clearly ill and upset.

‘Well, the police told the doctor and he was so kind when he told me. I was put in a small side room until I got home the following week. I never saw Etta again. The last time she came to the hospital was with her dad on the previous Wednesday night visiting hours. Dave came by himself on the Saturday afternoon but I knew Etta would be at work. Then, after the accident, I just assumed Etta was too upset to visit, until others confirmed she was missing as well.’