Living in the Shadows Read online

  Richard thought Linda’s answer came too quickly.

  His temper, usually slow to rise, took hold of him. ‘Don’t worry, Auntie, we’ll both be gone soon.’

  ‘Hey up, lad, she doesn’t mean for us to kick you out.’

  ‘Sorry, Uncle, but if Karen goes, I go.’

  Linda squeezed him. ‘No…’

  ‘It’s okay, Lin. Honest. I’ll take her home with me.’

  ‘No!’ This time it was Ellen. ‘No, you can’t—’

  ‘Why?’ As Richard stared at her, Karen appeared behind him.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ She gazed from one to the other of them.

  No one spoke.

  The doorbell rang, shrill in the silence.

  Chapter 36: Jackie Howarth

  Ashford: Saturday, September 27th

  ‘Sorry it’s so early, I’m just on my way home from night shift and I thought I’d call. Can I come in?’

  ‘Bit formal, the front door, Jacqueline?’ Ted held the door wider. ‘Course you can come in.’

  ‘I nearly came in the back but when I was in the yard I could hear raised voices so I thought I’d better come round to the front.’ In the hall she lowered her voice. ‘What’s up, Uncle Ted?’

  ‘There’s been a bit of a to-do, like.’ He whispered, holding on to the catch and quietly closing the door. ‘Our Richard’s girlfriend turned up in the night. Had a row with her dad.’

  Jackie gave an inward groan; she wasn’t going to help matters much. ‘I heard Auntie Ellen; she sounded really upset.’

  ‘Aye.’ Ted pinched his nostrils between his thumb and forefinger. ‘She is…’ He hesitated.

  Jackie could tell he didn’t want to say anything more. No doubt she’d find out sooner or later. She gave a mental shrug. ‘Actually it’s Richard I want to see, Uncle. In private.’ She looked meaningfully at the living-room door.

  ‘Oh.’ He followed her gaze. ‘Oh, yes, of course. Go on in there, I’ll tell him you’re here. And I’ll keep your auntie in the kitchen; make sure she doesn’t come with him.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She smiled, reflecting on how much she liked this quiet man. And wondered, for what felt like the millionth time, how he put up with Ellen. And marvelled, yet again, when he opened the kitchen door and she heard Ellen’s irritable questioning, followed by his appeasing tone.

  ‘It’s Jacqueline. She just wants a word with Richard.’

  Jackie didn’t hear what else was said; Ted closed the kitchen door. She wandered over to the window and stared out onto the street, then back around the room, so familiar from her childhood days. Most of the time she’d spent in this house with Linda, they’d had to go to her cousin’s bedroom to play but sometimes, in the winter, if Ellen was out, her uncle had carried a shovelful of burning coals from the kitchen fire and laid them in the grate in the living-room. She and Linda had huddled around the fire and read books. Mostly happy memories.

  ‘Jackie? You wanted to see me?’ Richard appeared next to her. ‘What’s up?’ He jerked his head towards the dividing wall. ‘I can’t stop long; Karen’s in there, she’s a bit upset.’

  ‘Uncle Ted told me there was some bother.’ Jackie ran her fingers through her short curly hair and straightened the collar of her shirt. She could sense the tension in him and regretted she was going to add to it. ‘Close the door a minute. Let’s sit down.’

  He did as she suggested, watching her warily.

  ‘How did the interviews go?’

  ‘Okay. I’m just waiting to hear now.’

  ‘You’ll sail through.’

  ‘Hope so.’ Richard looked down at the carpet, chafed the back of his hand with the palm of the other in an old gesture Jackie recognised. She did the same thing when she was nervous.

  She touched his arm, made sure he was facing her before she spoke. This would have been a lot better if they’d been strangers and she was just doing her job. She sighed; she’d try to make this as easy as possible for Richard but it would be difficult.

  ‘I talked to your mum on the phone on Wednesday. It’s your dad.’ She lifted her hand to calm Richard as he took a shuddering breath. ‘It’s all right, he’ll be all right.’

  ‘What…?’

  ‘He’s had another small heart attack.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Monday sometime.’ Jackie said. ‘And, like I said, according to your mum, he’ll be fine.’

  ‘Why did no-one tell me?’ His voice lost the carefully modulated pitch he’d learned to use and now, thick with distress, was a flat monotone. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, swallowed against the tears.

  ‘Nobody else knew except me. Your mum didn’t want you to know until after your interviews. And to be honest she didn’t want Auntie Ellen or Auntie Jean to go flogging down there. She said there was nothing either of them could do.’

  ‘He’ll be okay?’

  ‘Yes. Well, they’re apparently letting him out of hospital so he must be doing all right. Auntie Mary said to telephone her tonight after visiting time.’

  ‘I tried last night. I wondered why they weren’t in.’ His voice rose. ‘They never go out normally.’

  ‘She must have been at the hospital.’

  ‘I need to go home.’ He stood up, suddenly decisive. ‘I’ll have to get a train ticket.’

  ‘Yes. I’m sure Uncle Ted will help you to sort that out for you.’ Relieved that he was calming down, she added, ‘I’ll come into the kitchen with you and let them know what’s happened.’

  In the hall, he turned back to her. ‘This is all the fault of my stupid cow of a sister.’

  ‘Hi, you must be Karen?’ Jackie smiled at her.

  ‘Yes.’ The girl answered but her smile was strained.

  Ted squeezed his palms together. He looked flustered. ‘Let’s all sit down, shall we?’

  ‘Never mind that, what’s the problem?’ Ellen pushed past Karen and Linda. ‘Is it Mary?’ She moved to steady herself against Ted, clutching hold of him. ‘Ted?’

  He patted her hand. ‘Shush now. I’m sure Jacqueline would have said if it was your Mary.’

  ‘It’s not Mary,’ Jackie said. ‘It’s Uncle Peter; he’s had a slight heart attack.’

  ‘No.’

  Hearing Linda’s gasp, Jackie said hastily, ‘He’ll be all right. They’re letting him home so he must be getting better already,’ she said, for the second time in ten minutes. ‘But Richard should go home.’

  ‘Yes, of course he must,’ Linda said.

  Karen moved to his side, put her arm around him.

  ‘How did you find out?’ Ellen said.

  ‘Auntie Mary told me.’

  ‘Why didn’t she ring me? I am her sister, after all,’ Ellen said. ‘You’d think she would have told me.’

  Linda made a small, exasperated noise.

  ‘I’ll go to her. Now.’ Ellen moved towards the door. ‘I’ll pack.’

  ‘No.’ Richard barely glanced at her. ‘No.’

  Ted put his hand out to hold onto Ellen. ‘He’s right, love, you shouldn’t go. Not yet.’

  ‘Why not?’ She shook him off.

  ‘It’s not the right time,’ Ted said, firmly. He nodded to Richard. ‘We’ll go to the station and see if we can get you on a train today.’

  ‘Thanks, Uncle.’

  ‘I’d like to go too, if that’s all right with you, Richard?’ Linda said. ‘I’d like to help.’

  ‘Okay, Lin.’

  ‘Well, then, I should come with you,’ Ellen complained.

  ‘No, love,’ Ted said, ‘our Linda’s a nurse, she’ll be more use than any of us can be. Let her go.’

  ‘Karen’s going to come with me,’ Richard said.

  ‘Perhaps better not.’ Linda said.

  ‘Why?’

  She was flustered. ‘Well, with your dad…’ The words trailed away.

  Jackie watched. There was evidently something going on she didn’t know about. Linda was upset. And she was right. With all the wo
rries about Vicky and their uncle’s heart attack, Auntie Mary had enough to put up, never mind a stranger landed in her midst. Now Linda was looking straight at her and the familiar silent conversation, which had stood them in good stead since childhood, kicked in.

  ‘How about staying with me until things get sorted?’ she said to Karen. ‘No problem.’

  Chapter 37: Linda Booth

  Ashford: Saturday, September 27th

  ‘I don’t see why we had to meet here.’ Martin scuffed at the gravel on the path, picked up a stone and skimmed it along the surface of the lake. His lower lip jutted out. ‘Or this early.’

  ‘It’s ten o’clock. And I’m getting a train down to Wales tomorrow, my uncle’s ill and there’s some family stuff that needs sorting.’ Linda waited to get his full attention, wishing she was anywhere but here and with anyone but him. She was going to hurt him and she was sorry about that, but better now than years down the line. Years in which she was sure they would both be miserable.

  He ignored what she’d said. ‘I was nearly here before the park keeper.’ He pushed at one of the canoes with his foot, sending the whole row bobbing one by one.

  Linda battled to keep her patience. She sat on the bench pulling her blue maxi-coat over her knees and clutched her shoulder-bag on her lap. Patting the seat of the bench, she said, ‘Come and sit down, Martin, there’s something I want to tell you.’

  ‘I’m all right here, thanks.’ He stood looking down on her, his arms folded.

  She met his glare. ‘It’s not easy and I’m sorry—’

  ‘You want to pack me in, don’t you?’

  ‘I wouldn’t be being fair if I let things go on.’

  ‘How noble.’ His lips moved into a sneer. ‘How bloody noble of you.’

  She understood his anger. ‘Martin—’

  He didn’t give her a chance. ‘I knew it. I’ve known since the other day … since you stood me up at the last minute.’ He fumbled in the pocket of his sports jacket. When he held his hand out it was to show her a small box. ‘Know what this is?’ he demanded. ‘Cost me a bloody fortune, this ring did!’

  Linda winced; it always came down to money with him. But still she said, ‘I’m sorry.’

  He raised his eyes. ‘Stop bloody saying sorry. Just tell me why!’

  She couldn’t, not really. ‘I don’t want to get married and that’s what you want.’

  ‘You could have told me that before I went chucking my cash around.’ He shoved the box back into his pocket, turned his head to one side and spat. The globule just missed her foot. When he looked back at her there was a challenge in his eyes.

  Like a spoiled little boy, Linda thought, even as she understood his anger. Had she led him on? She wasn’t sure but then admitted she’d let him think they would eventually get married. Why? She’d known for a long time it wasn’t what she wanted. And it wasn’t just that she needed a career. No, if she were truthful … even if it was only to herself … she’d been bored with him for a long time. With his penny-pinching ways, his counting the cost of every time they went to the pictures, went on a bus, a train, shopping together. Last month he’d even chastised her for spending her own money on a new pair of shoes, she remembered.

  The sudden spark of irritation pushed the guilt to one side. ‘I didn’t ask you to. You just took it for granted we’d get married.’

  ‘Round about the same time you let me in your knickers.’ He sneered. ‘Or do you do that for all the lads? From prick-tease to slut in one easy week.’

  That’s it; enough is enough, Linda thought, standing up. She pulled the strap of her bag onto her shoulder, watching a girl approach, carrying a transistor blasting out the Rolling Stones’ ‘Honky Tonk Women’. Linda waited until she was sure Martin would hear her next words. ‘I think we’ve said everything that needs to be said.’

  Martin picked up some stones and turned to skim one across the lake without speaking. She watched. The water mirrored the sky: gloomy clouds skating across the surface, now rippled by the bouncing stone until it sunk.

  He chucked in the last of the stones with a flick of his wrist. One rattled into the first canoe. ‘Don’t bother getting in touch again. Cow.’ He walked away from her before spinning on his heel and almost tripping over a dog. The owner mumbled something at him; Linda couldn’t hear what it was but she heard Martin’s reply. ‘Sod off.’

  Then he pointed at her. ‘Oh, and by the way, I’ll have that bracelet back I bought you for your birthday. I should be able to sell it. Get my money back – salvage something from the fiasco I thought was a relationship.’

  Linda didn’t answer. He’d get the bracelet back; she’d make sure of that. She blinked hard against the burn in her eyes. What did she expect?

  She watched him walk past two girls, walking arm in arm and giggling, looking at him surreptitiously. He cocked his head at them, gave a wolf-whistle. ‘Okay, girls?’ she heard him shout, walking backwards and whistling again.

  Linda looked back at the lake. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing she’d seen.

  The lake was black; there was no reflection of the sky any more. The first heavy drops of rain splattered on the path.

  Chapter 38: Victoria Schormann

  The Granville: Saturday, September 27th

  Yesterday she’d been allowed to join a group meditation. Candles in each corner of the room cast a golden glow on the images of spider in their webs and different birds – owls, falcons, even sparrows – which covered the walls. One wall was curtained over, a ceiling-to-floor length of purple material. The air was filled with a strange, almost unpleasant, scent.

  When she first filed in behind the women Seth was sitting on a chair at the front of the room, his head bowed, his hands folded on his lap. He wore a long white kaftan. Tall cream candles were placed on top of wooden boxes on each side of him. A small table was behind him. On it was a small bowl and a short stump of something that looked like dried grasses.

  The meditation had been nothing like the Transcendental Meditation Victoria had tried to learn. Nothing like it at all.

  Besides Seth and two of the older men he called the Elders, there were twenty others in the room. After they sat cross-legged on the floor in front of him, he held out his arms as though encompassing them all. It was as if Victoria had never seen Seth before; she couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He seemed unapproachable, powerful in some way. Her scalp prickled. Although she didn’t dare to look around she guessed all the others were mesmerised as well.

  At first he spoke in a calm voice. As Victoria concentrated on her breathing she listened to his words.

  ‘Dear Higher Self, we are here to release past fears and pain. That which no longer helps with our cleansing and purification we discard. Help us to see everything in an enlightened perspective and move forward with wisdom, strength and, above all love.’

  Two figures stepped from behind the curtain. Victoria saw they were the girls who’d also been at the Manchester festival and were brought into the commune by Seth and River the week after her. She’d nicknamed them Cow Parsley and Dandelion. She hadn’t liked them from the moment they’d arrived, with their simpering stupid faces and creepy-crawly ways of trying to get in with all the other women. Always offering to cook or clean the dorm, sitting with the girls who made the rag rugs, giggling when they had to be shown – yet again – how to thread the material through. She scowled; she’d no time for them.

  Now here they were. Jealousy flooded through Victoria; why were they part of this morning’s session when this was the first time she’d even been allowed to attend?

  One of them picked up the small bowl and taking a cloth from it squeezed out water. The other struck a match and held it to the stick of dried grasses until it smouldered. Holding a plate underneath to catch ashes she wafted the smoke over Seth and into the corners of the room before walking around the group doing the same.

  Victoria forced a loud cough. Taking in a breath the smoke caug
ht her throat and she swallowed hard to try to stop the irritation. Worse, through the tears streaming down her cheeks she saw the one she called Cow Parsley take Seth’s sandals off, wipe his feet with the cloth before putting them back on. Victoria couldn’t prevent the gasp and began to cough again. This time she couldn’t stop. She heard the disapproving noises from the people around her. Someone behind patted her hard on the back. At first she was grateful, but the action started to get a fraction too hard and she shrugged the hand away.

  When she finally stopped choking she looked towards Seth; he’d stood up. She saw the subtle change in his face, the rise of colour in his cheeks the tightening of his lips. When he spoke he fixed his stare on her. She met his eyes; goose bumps raised the hairs on her arms but she wouldn’t let him see how resentful she was.

  ‘We have cleared all negative energy from the room. Rain…’

  Not Dandelion then, Victoria thought. She forced down the nervous laugh.

  ‘… will open the windows, release old energy and allow fresh air to flow through.’

  Seth paced the floor in front of the small crowd, his kaftan softly swishing with each turn, his sandals lightly creaking as he walked. His voice grew louder, melodic. At either side of her the people were swaying in time with his words. She had no option but to move with them.

  ‘Let us leave behind what no longer serves us and cross over onto a new and illuminated path.’ He stopped in front of Victoria. ‘Leave behind material things, the evil of worldly wealth, those who damage us with their presence.’ He lowered his hand to touch the top of her head. ‘Stand, Summer.’

  She felt she had no option. But he kept his hand on her head so she had no choice but to lower it so that her chin was on her chest.

  ‘We expect complete, exclusive devotion – not merely a partial, lukewarm, half-hearted following. We expect reverence.’

  Who is he talking about? Who’s ‘We?’ Victoria thought, conscious of the heat of his hand on her scalp, his fingertips pressing in.

  ‘We expect devotion. It is our right. We are worthy of nothing less.’