That'll Be the Day (2007) (41 page)

Chapter Forty

‘Is that you Judy?’ Leo half walked, half ran across the cobbles to almost snatch her up in his arms before thinking better of it. ‘I can’t believe it, after all this time. I’ve been looking for you everywhere. I want to hold you. . . touch you.’ He glanced about at the crowds milling around the market. ‘Can we go somewhere so that we can talk?’

Christmas was drawing near and the rousing strains of
Good King Wencelas
echoed along the street, wreaths of holly and mistletoe were strung around every lamp post and fairy lights twinkled high in the rafters of the market hall. But images of Santa Claus and his galloping reindeer painted on every window did little to lighten Leo’s heart. He had never in his life felt less like celebrating the season of goodwill.
 

Judy still hadn’t spoken and Leo waited anxiously for her agreement. She gave a little shake of her head, not trusting herself to speak, deliberately dropping her gaze when she saw the desolation come into his face.

‘Please?’

‘Don’t you understand? You must stay away from me. I was just returning the children. We’ve been out for the afternoon but you mustn’t speak to me. Leave me alone!’

She looked so frail, so ill, with big purple bruises beneath each eye that he ached to gather her up into his arms and carry her away to some safe place where he could make her better. ‘I’m so sorry about the children. That was a horrible decision on the part of the magistrates. I assume you’re fighting Sam over it. He’s no right to take them away from you like that.’

‘Apparently he does. Sam is their father, and in a far better position than I to care for them. I was also accused of having a man friend . . . a lover . . . you!’

Now he understood why she’d been avoiding him. Of course, how stupid of him. He should have thought of that before. Even as Leo stared at her in stunned disbelief he could appreciate at last the reason for her anger. ‘Heaven help me, I didn’t realise. But we didn’t . . . we’re not.’

‘
I
know that.
You
know that. But how can we prove it? He obviously found out about our day in Clitheroe. I expect the children told him.’ She sounded weary, resigned, all the fight drained out of her. Leo on the other hand was pulsating with fury, would have beaten Sam Beckett to a pulp there and then, given half a chance.

‘Or else he had you followed. Damnation, whatever and however he learned of our day out, that’s a wicked trick to pull. Sam is the one who can’t keep his trousers on, not you.’

Judy winced at the image this evoked. Ignoring her, Leo raged on. ‘Which magistrates were sitting that day? I’ll write to the Justice of the Clerk’s office. We can get this sorted out.’

A kind of terror came into her eyes and she pushed him away from her, punching his chest with two clenched fists. ‘No, no, no! You mustn’t do any such thing. You’ll only make matters worse.’

When she would’ve turned and run from him Leo caught her by the wrist, holding on to her despite sensing her fragility. His heart ached to see how her shoulders shook, to hear her small hiccupping sobs. ‘Please don’t cry. I hate it when you’re unhappy. I hate having these terrible things happen to you. I just want to help. I love you, Judy. Always remember that I love you.’

She gave a low groan. ‘Please don’t say such things. Don’t even think it.’

‘Why not, if it’s true?’

‘Someone might hear.’

He wanted to say let them, that he would happily swing from the fairy lights and shout his feelings from the rooftops but common sense prevailed. ‘Where are you living? Can we at least meet for coffee some time?’

But she was wriggling free of his restraining hand, dashing the tears from her eyes. ‘Stay away from me, Leo. Leave me in peace. I have another custody hearing coming up soon and having you around won’t help. Just leave me alone!’

As she hurried away, Leo couldn’t do any such thing. He followed her. Not so close that she could spot him tailing her, but he needed to know where she was living. He simply couldn’t bear to lose her.

Unbeknown to Leo, he in turn was being followed. Helen had sat in her new Ford car and watched her husband talk in frantic hushed tones with Judy Beckett, watched her walk away and Leo follow several paces behind.

She’d hardly been able to believe what she was seeing, but their body language said it all.

Now she started up the engine and, keeping a discreet distance between herself and the pair of them, edged her way along the street. It was a long, slow journey since they walked and she drove, but at least Helen could take refuge in her car, pausing occasionally so that she didn’t catch up and get too close.

Eventually she saw Judy skip up the steps of a tall terraced house some distance from the market beyond Pomona Docks on the outskirts of Salford. Leo, she noticed, stood undecided for some moments before turning on his heel to make his way back to Champion Street, fortunately choosing a different route through the network of passages and bridges that linked the docks, and not passing her car.

When he had gone, Helen sat back in her seat with an expression of cold fury on her face. So now, at last, she knew the identity of her husband’s mistress. It struck her as particularly galling that he was bedding her own ex-lover’s wife.

By way of retaliation Helen turned her attention to Barford. He was not so exciting a lover as Sam Beckett but he would certainly help to alleviate her boredom until she came up with someone better. And there was always the chance that together they might be able to devise some scheme to further Leo’s ambitions, even if it was against his better judgement.

 
Unlike Sam, Barford preferred to enjoy his sexual adventures in comfort, and they’d spent the afternoon ensconced in a pleasant little hotel room somewhere in deepest Cheshire. Helen had insisted her new motor be parked in an anonymous country lane a short distance away, so that no one would see their two vehicles cheek-by-jowl in the hotel car park. Yet here they were, very much together in this delicious little room. Perfect.

She watched him walk back from the shower and pull on his vest which he’d left neatly folded on a chair. Helen didn’t usually care for men who wore vests, and Sam would’ve been far too eager to bed her to waste time on such niceties as folding his clothing. She stifled a sigh. Such a pity that little romp was over. They’d had such fun together, but throughout her little liaison with Sam they’d neither of them been aware of what was going on right in front of their noses, with their own respective spouses. Helen didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. In reality she was far too angry to do either.

David Barford was tying the shoe laces on his highly polished tan brogues. Helen propped herself on one elbow to watch him. No doubt he was off for a round of golf before returning home to his angelic, patient little wife, his halo still in place on his handsome, arrogant head. It was sad too that all the plans and schemes they’d devised together to thrust Leo into the forefront of power had come to nothing. Her life seemed to be falling apart, everything going wrong before her eyes.

‘I was just thinking that now Leo is on the city council, there’s very little hope of him ever turning his attention to party politics, as we once hoped,’ Helen commented, expressing her thoughts aloud.

Barford glanced up and allowed his gaze to trail over the curve of her hip, the narrowness of her waist and the way her full breasts pillowed out above the sheet she was holding with one elegant hand. He half wished he didn’t have to rush away and could take her all over again, while a part of him regretted ever becoming involved with Helen Catlow in the first place.

She wasn’t an easy woman to please and he hadn’t managed to get what he’d wanted out of the relationship, certainly not politically. Creating useful links in powerful places was what he did best. It was a skill he’d perfected over the years and used many times to his advantage. Unfortunately, on this occasion, the woman’s husband had proved to be strangely obstinate and refused to play along.

But then a thought occurred to him and Barford allowed himself a rare smile. ‘The City Council, of course, I was forgetting Leo was involved with that. Now there’s a thought. He’ll have access to planning applications, will he not?’

Helen shrugged. ‘How would I know?’ She never troubled herself with the trifling details of what her husband actually did with his life, only with what benefits he could provide for her.

Barford stood up and took his jacket from the hanger in the wardrobe where he’d placed it. ‘That could prove useful. The city re-development programme is gathering pace and there’s money to be made out of it.’

He came to sit beside her on the bed, kissing her shoulder and possessively fondling her breast before going on to explain how he’d recently purchased an old Methodist chapel at auction.

‘My intention was to turn it into flats but then I decided to demolish it and sell it on for development instead, with planning permission to build a whole modern apartment block in its place. A far more lucrative proposition, but the powers-that-be are proving difficult. They say it’s too close to the proposed site of a new motorway, as if that mattered. I stand to make a fortune if I can sell this land; otherwise, taking into account the cost of conversion, two or three flats won’t make me anywhere near as much profit. How would it be if I let you have a copy of the plans and you persuade good old Leo to swing the vote my way? You can do that for me, surely?’

Helen brushed his probing hand aside and sank back upon the pillows on a light laugh. ‘Don’t be foolish. I’ve already explained, Leo isn’t listening to me any more. I’m fighting hard just to keep my marriage alive.’

Barford’s smile was chilling. ‘Well then, you wouldn’t want anything to destabilise it further, would you, and risk losing access to all his lovely money by somebody spilling the beans about our little activities here, for instance.’

Helen became very still. ‘You would never do such a thing?’

Barford stood up, adjusted his tie and picked up his briefcase. From it he drew out a sheaf of papers and tossed them on to the bed. ‘Let’s hope it never becomes necessary but I can’t emphasise enough, Helen, how very important it is for me to push this scheme through.’

‘That’s blackmail.’

‘I dislike such nasty words but you owe me, Helen dear, for the risks I’ve taken on your behalf. Promises, promises, that’s all I’ve ever had from you in return. Now I’m calling in the debt. I’ll ring you next week, see how you’ve got on.’

Then he walked out of the room and left her, not even bothering to bring her car round for her.

Helen was not used to being so ill treated, to having someone else call the shots. Yet despite her dislike of being put in an untenable position, she did her utmost to persuade Leo to support the planning permission application. She pointed out all the benefits Barford had mentioned, even adding a few of her own, including the possibility that he might permit Leo to join him in the deal and make a few thousand for himself. That had apparently been the wrong thing to say.

‘You want me to cheat, to commit a crime for a few measly quid?’

‘Barford will make nearer a million before he’s done. He’s going places, Leo. You should listen to him more.’

‘I’d rather listen to my conscience.’

No further discussion on the subject was allowed. Leo was adamant that he would never do anything remotely illegal. Fortunately, he wasn’t in the least suspicious about how she came by this information, but he certainly wasn’t any longer listening to her. In fact, he seemed to be totally absorbed in a world of his own, and Helen felt a terrifying sensation start up inside her; it was as if she were sliding down a slippery slope and was helpless to prevent herself from falling off a cliff. She realised it was going to take every ounce of her undoubtedly clever wits to turn this disaster around.

At Judy’s insistence, her solicitor had made a further application for custody but once again it was refused. The children were settled, the magistrates said, were well provided for by their father and being properly looked after by their grandmother whenever he was at work. A perfectly agreeable arrangement. The mother could continue to have reasonable access but the fact that Judy now had employment in a snack bar and her name on the housing list, cut no ice at all.

‘Come back when your name reaches the top of the list,’ was what they told her. ‘When you have a home of your own to offer.’ Besides all of this, the magistrates were not entirely convinced that the alleged lover wasn’t still around.

Sam reinforced this belief. ‘Leo Catlow is often seen about the market with my wife. They were spotted talking vehemently together only the other day, so are undoubtedly still a couple.’

Nothing Judy said could convince them otherwise. She might well be free of Sam and her claustrophobic soul-destroying marriage, free of his rules and orders, and his strange punishments, and free of the humiliation of wondering which woman he’d slept with before climbing into bed with her. But the price had been high. Sam had been determined from the outset that she would pay for her independence by losing her children. Now he’d turned that into a reality.

Later that evening, following this insensitive verdict, Leo returned to the Victorian terraced house beyond Pomona docks that he’d seen Judy enter. Having made it his business to discover that the case was to be heard today, he was determined to be there for her. Either to console her disappointment if the worst happened, or ready to vanish out of her life completely if the news was good.