Family Betrayal Page 33

  Few people spoke to Joan, but she had kept herself to herself for years so it wasn't surprising. Yet now, as she turned into Aspen Street, she saw that Betty Fuller was standing on her doorstep, deep in conversation with her neighbour. They went back years and at one time Betty had been after Dan. He hadn't been interested, and at the time Joan had been thrilled that, instead of Betty, he had chosen her. Thrilled – yes, she'd been thrilled, but now she had lived to regret it.

  Betty broke off her conversation when she saw her, but Joan didn't miss the wink that she threw at her neighbour before she spoke. ‘Watcha, Joan. We were just talking about Chris and we're wondering how you feel about his friend – you know, the one that works in his shop.’

  ‘Sorry, can't stop,’ Joan said.

  ‘You should have a word with him. He's making himself a laughing stock.’

  ‘I don't know what you're talking about,’ Joan snapped as she hurried away, yet even so, her curiosity was piqued. Chris, a laughing stock? But why? Oh, what did it matter? She was finished with him, with all of them. All she wanted was her daughter, but it had been so long now, months since Petula had run away. Would she ever come back? Oh, please, God, she must.

  Danny was bent over a battered desk, adding up columns in the account book, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. Maurice had always handled the accounts and this was new territory for him. At last they balanced and, leaning back, he smiled with satisfaction. They were doing all right, and though it had taken a bit of wrangling, they had managed to hold on to their biggest customer, his order now filled. Chris had told him that his mother had sold the yard as a going concern, and that would mean competition, but so far, with the promise of discounts, they had managed to bring all their old customers with them.

  It was a shame that Chris had decided to go it alone, and now Danny's face straightened. In a million years he had never expected Chris to turn soft, buying a piddling little corner shop to be close to their mother. Not only that, he'd begun to hear rumours, ridiculous ones that needed to be snuffed out. Chris was a Draper, a name that still meant something in the borough, and he wasn't going to stand for the local gossip turning his brother, and by association them, into a pervert and a laughing stock.

  Danny scowled. He might be out of the porn game and running a truly legit business, but he was still a Draper, still his father's son, and still wanted the respect that the name deserved.

  Bob came into the office, grinning widely. ‘Dick Larson's had me in stitches. He told me a couple of really good ones.’

  ‘Go on then.’

  ‘What do you call a donkey with three legs?’

  ‘All right, tell me.’

  ‘A wonkey.’

  Danny just chuckled, before saying, ‘Rubbish. He must have got that one out of a Christmas cracker.’

  ‘All right then. What did the elephant say to the naked man?’

  ‘I dunno.’

  ‘How do you suck up water with that dangly little thing?’

  Danny laughed. ‘Better.’

  'A snail goes into a pub, but it's against policy to serve snails so the barman kicks him out. A year later the snail comes in again, looks up at the barman and says, “What did you do that for?”

  This time Danny roared. ‘Yeah, I like that one.’

  Bob saw the account book lying open on the desk. ‘How are we doing?’

  ‘Considering that we've only been up and running for just over a month, we're doing fine, but I want to talk to you about Chris and the local gossip.’

  ‘Danny, I've told you, it's rubbish.’

  ‘I know it's rubbish, but someone is spreading this shit and I ain't standing for it. We may have left the alley but we're still Drapers and the locals need to remember that.’

  ‘Yeah, well, once we've had a quiet word in a few people's ears, it's bound to stop.’

  ‘It'd better,’ Danny growled.

  ‘Talking about the alley, I wonder how Mum's doing.’

  ‘Chris said she still won't let him in, but he'll keep trying.’

  ‘Maybe Yvonne could give it a go.’

  ‘She had a rough time when the baby came early. She isn't ready for a run-in with Mum.’

  ‘Sending Sue round would be a waste of time. Those two have never seen eye to eye. I suppose we'll just have to leave it to Chris to make a breakthrough. Still, at least Yvonne and Sue are getting on well, the pair of them as thick as thieves now.’

  ‘Sue was brilliant when Yvonne came home with Danny junior, and with him being so tiny, Yvonne was a nervous wreck. It was good of Sue to help out, and anyway, with us living in the upstairs flat, and you down, it's just as well they get on.’

  Bob grinned. ‘It was a bit of luck finding that house, and with it already divided into two flats, it's ideal. Sue prefers it to Drapers Alley, and the kids love the garden.’

  Danny yawned. ‘He may have been early, but my boy was screaming his lungs out last night.’

  ‘Yeah, I heard him and it's a wonder Maurice didn't hear him in Devon. Has he been in touch with you yet?’

  ‘No, but at least I hear how he's getting on through you. I think he blames me for everything and, to be honest, he's right.’

  ‘He'll come round. Last time he rang me he said that Oliver has taken to country life like a duck to water.’

  Despite the lack of sleep, Danny smiled. He knew how it felt to have a son now, his boy his pride and joy. He had never wanted kids, but that had changed the instant he saw Danny junior. The urge to find Garston, to take revenge, had left him, his one desire now to provide a secure future for his son. At one time he had let depression swamp him, and he was still ashamed of his weakness. He was back to his old self now, and he'd show his son what it meant to be a Draper. Legit or not, he would make sure the name still brought the respect it deserved.

  ‘Customers,’ Bob said.

  Danny closed the account book and, Bob ahead of him, left the tiny office. Yes, he thought, they were doing all right, the proceeds from Wimbledon setting them all up, but there was still something unfinished. They still hadn't found Petula.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Pet's stomach churned as she listened to Steve. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't.

  ‘Does … does Ivy know?’

  ‘Yes, she knows.’

  Pet had to ask, swallowing deeply before saying, ‘How … how long?’

  ‘From what the doctor said, there's no way of knowing. It could be weeks, months. If it had been found earlier, there may have been a chance, but it's too far advanced now and it … it's spread to her bones.’

  ‘Can't they do something … anything?’

  ‘No,’ Steve replied, his eyes moist and, raising his arm, he cuffed at them with the sleeve of his jumper.

  Pet was crying now too. Ivy had been in hospital for two weeks, undergoing test after test, but she had never expected this – never expected to hear that her cousin was dying. Since Ivy had taken her in, they had become close, a relationship forming that had been absent in Drapers Alley. She had seen Ivy battling with her pain, trying to pretend that she was fine in front of the boys, always trying to be cheerful. Oh God, the boys! They were going to lose their mother. The thought was unbearable and, sobbing now, Pet buried her face in her hands.

  It was quiet for a while, but then Steve said, ‘Pet, she wants to come home. I tried to talk her out of it, but she won't have it. The thing is, she's going to need looking after. I know you're only fifteen, and it's a lot to ask, but do you think you could take it on?’

  ‘I'll try,’ Pet said, rubbing the tears from her cheeks.

  ‘You'll have a bit of help with the district nurse calling in every day.’

  ‘What about Harry and Ernie?’

  ‘They'll be at school most of the day, and … and maybe I can get one of the neighbours to give you a hand, perhaps take them on after school until I come home.’

  ‘Yes, that could work.’

&nbs
p; They were quiet again then, both with their own thoughts. Pet was still reeling with shock, fighting tears. Without hesitation she had agreed to look after Ivy, but had no idea what to do, what care her cousin would need. She owed it to Ivy, wanted to help her cousin to repay her kindness, but what if she made a mess of it? What if she couldn't cope? With a sob she prayed for strength – strength to be there for Ivy and the strength to watch her die.

  Phil had just cuddled him again and Chris was red-faced as he served a customer. The two old biddies standing in the queue were looking at them with disgust, whispering, and Chris knew that he'd been a fool, an idiot, for agreeing to let Phil work with him in the shop.

  No matter how many times he warned Phil he was ignored. But determined to have it out once and for all, Chris waited until the shop emptied. Then he said, ‘Phil, you've got to stop cuddling me in front of the customers.’

  ‘Not this again. Look, when you said I could work with you, I thought it meant we were bringing our relationship out into the open at last, but instead you're acting like you're ashamed of me.’

  ‘Don't be silly, of course I'm not. It's just that we're running a business and cuddling me in front of the customers isn't … well, it doesn't look very professional.’

  ‘Professional my arse. You're ashamed of me, I know you are. Go on, admit it.’

  ‘I'm not ashamed of you.’

  ‘Well, how come you haven't told your brothers about me, or your mother?’

  ‘I will. I'm just waiting for the right time.’

  ‘Yeah, that's what you always say, but that time never comes.’

  The bell above the door tinkled, another customer coming into the shop. ‘Twenty Woodbines, please,’ the young man said.

  'Coming up, darlin”, Phil said, smiling coquettishly. ‘My, ain't you handsome.’

  Chris knew that it was a tactic to make him jealous, but it didn't work. The young man obviously wasn't interested – few would be – his smile nervous as he paid for his cigarettes before almost fleeing the shop.

  Chris shook head with exasperation. Since their relationship began, Phil had fiercely fought to keep him, looking after him, spoiling him, seeing to his every wish – except one. In front of the customers, Phil continued to touch him, to make it obvious that they were a couple. Chris knew that he was fighting a losing battle. From now on it would be impossible to hide it. His secret was out.

  Two days after Pet promised to care for her cousin, Ivy came home, and at midday, as the ambulance drew up outside, Pet ran to the gate, watching as Ivy was lifted from the back. Steve had been up since the crack of dawn, clearing the path to make it safe before rushing off to work. He hadn't wanted to go in, but the animals still needed tending, the farmer saying kindly that he could finish early.

  ‘Hello, Pet,’ Ivy said. ‘It's lovely to be home.’

  Pet fought tears. She couldn't cry. For Ivy's sake she had to be strong, but oh, it was going to be so hard. Forcing a smile she said, ‘It's about time you showed up. I made a pot of tea ages ago and it must be stone cold by now.’

  ‘You'll just have to make another one,’ Ivy quipped as Pet ran ahead to open the front door.

  ‘Where do you want her?’ one of the men asked as they carried Ivy over the threshold.

  ‘Oi, I ain't an imbecile and I can talk for myself,’ Ivy said. ‘If you ain't a pair of weaklings, you can carry me up to my boudoir.’

  ‘Oh, your boudoir is it? Right, Your Majesty,’ and on that light note, they did indeed carry the chair upstairs.

  Pet had hurried ahead, and in Ivy's bedroom she threw back the blankets, watching nervously as her cousin was lifted out of the chair and into the bed. Ivy seemed in good spirits, laughing with the ambulance men, and though she looked haggard, thin, she didn't seem to be in pain.

  ‘Right, Pet, show these pair of clowns out and then you can make me a fresh pot of tea.’

  ‘It sounds like you've got yourself a handful, miss,’ said one as Pet led them downstairs.

  ‘I heard that,’ Ivy called, ‘and the only handful I've got is for my hubby.’

  The men laughed, but no sooner had Pet closed the door behind them than she had to open it again, finding the district nurse on the step. The woman was tubby, cheery-looking with round pink cheeks and a kind smile as she stepped inside.

  ‘Hello, ducks,’ she said. ‘Now where's my patient?’

  ‘This way,’ said Pet, leading her upstairs. ‘Ivy has only just arrived home.’

  ‘Yes, I know, I passed the ambulance men on the path,’ and as they walked into the bedroom Ivy received an equally cheery greeting. ‘Hello, ducks. I'm Nurse Alwood, but you can call me Gloria.’

  ‘Watcha,’ said Ivy.

  ‘I was just about to make a cup of tea – would you like one, er, Gloria?’

  ‘Yes, please, and biscuits if you've got some. I've not stopped this morning and I could eat a scabby horse.’

  Smiling, Pet left the room, her heart a little lighter. She liked Nurse Alwood, and with her help, maybe she really would be able to cope.

  ‘All right, Charlie, I'm going,’ Danny said, scowling as he walked out of the pub. He might not be going after Garston, but in his own borough he wanted the Drapers' reputation to remain intact.

  When he'd first entered the pub, Danny had thrown his weight about, but the landlord, Charlie Parkinson, had intervened. As an old friend of his father's, Danny allowed it. However, he'd been unprepared for what Charlie had told him.

  He went back to the yard, saying as he went in, ‘Bob, can you manage on your own for a bit longer?’

  ‘I suppose so, but what did you find out?’

  ‘From what Charlie told me, I don't think it's just rumours.’

  ‘It can't be true, Danny. You know Chris, and as I've said before, it's got to be rubbish.’

  ‘I'll soon find out. I'm going to see for myself.’

  ‘Maybe you should leave it, Danny. If it's true, which I doubt, and Chris wanted us to know, he'd have told us.’

  ‘You must be joking. Chris must be sick, a pervert, and I'm not standing for it, Bob. We're Drapers, but he's turning us into laughing stocks.’

  ‘Why don't we lock up for an hour and I'll come with you? I can just stick a note on the gates to say that we're closed for lunch.’

  ‘No, we can't afford to turn customers away. I'll be as quick as I can,’ Danny said, turning to leave before Bob could argue.

  Danny took his car and in ten minutes he was pulling up outside his brother's shop. He had never understood why Chris had wanted to go it alone, buying a poky corner shop that was unlikely to show much of a profit, but if the rumours were true, maybe this explained it. He and Bob had been so busy setting up the yard that they had seen little of Chris, this the first time he'd been to the premises.

  He got out of his car, but before entering the shop Danny looked through the window. Chris was behind the counter, but he couldn't see anyone else, so moving to the door, he threw it open, hearing a bell tinkling above his head.

  ‘Hello, Chris.’

  ‘Danny, what are you doing here?’

  ‘I've been hearing rumours, gossip, talk about you being a pervert. Where's this so-called assistant?’

  Chris was red-faced, blustering as he said, ‘I don't know what you're talking about.’

  A curtain was pulled back, and as a woman walked through holding two cups of tea, Danny blanched. She was old, at least sixty, her face lined with wrinkles, and though he had thought himself prepared, Danny found his stomach lurching. Bile rose in his throat. No, no, this couldn't be right – Chris couldn't be sleeping with that!

  ‘Here you are, love,’ she said, holding a cup of tea out to Chris, ‘and I've made us both a sandwich.’

  ‘For fuck's sake, Chris, tell me it isn't her.’

  She turned, looked at him, puzzled. ‘Who are you? Chris, what's going on?’

  Chris drew in a great gulp of air, then said, ‘Danny, this is Phil, my girlfriend. Wel
l, it's Philomena really, but that's a bit of a mouthful. Phil, this is my brother Danny.’

  ‘Oh, hello, ducks. Nice to meet you.’

  Danny ignored her greeting, instead spitting out, ‘You must be out of your mind, Chris. Get rid of her, and now. I ain't having you turning us into laughing stocks.’

  Chris stared at him, their eyes locking, a range of emotions crossing his features, but then his eyes narrowed and, shaking his head, he said, ‘No, Danny. I've been seeing Phil for years, hiding her, sneaking around to her place, but not any more.’

  ‘Leave it out. Look at her. She's older than Mum.’ Danny paused, frowning. ‘I know Mum didn't show us any affection. Is that it? Have you got some sort of mother complex? Is that old hag some sort of replacement?’

  ‘No, of course not and stop insulting her. I love Phil, and whether you like it or not, she's my choice. You can either accept her, or you can get out.’

  ‘Right, if that's the way you want it, you're no brother of mine. I'll make sure that everyone knows it too – that as far as the rest of us are concerned, you are no longer a Draper.’

  ‘That's fine with me.’

  Danny spun on his heel, leaving the shop without a backward glance. He still felt sick to his stomach, and knew that Bob would feel the same. With George still missing, Maurice in Devon, and Chris out of the picture, it left just two of them – two of the Draper boys. Chris had made fools of them, but as he'd told his brother, he'd put it about that they were finished with him, and then, if anyone so much as looked at them the wrong way, they'd suffer for it. He and Bob were still Drapers, a name that still meant something, a name to be feared, and a name that he passed proudly on to his son.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Spring turned into early summer, and Ivy was still clinging to life. For most of the time she was barely lucid, the nurse warning Pet that when the medication had to be increased again, Ivy would probably slip into a coma. Pet had seen Ivy's agony and thought it would be a blessing. At least her cousin wouldn't be suffering any more.