KITTY NEALE
A Family Scandal

Copyright

Published by Avon an imprint of

HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street,

London, SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2016

This ebook edition 2016

Copyright © Kitty Neale 2016

Cover design © Debbie Clement 2016

Kitty Neale asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © April 2016 ISBN: 9780007587940

Source ISBN: 9781847562470

Version 2017-07-04

Dedication

I would like to dedicate this book to the memory of Hardip Bhamra, who sadly died in 2015.

He has been described by his colleagues, friends and family as a beautiful soul, a modest, gentle, kind and honest man; a devoted husband and father who is survived by his wife, Marianne, and daughter, Kristina.

Hardip Bhamra was also a talented artist who could create beauty with just a few strokes of a brush, and now, every time I see a wonderful sunrise or sunset, it reminds me of him and some of his wonderful paintings.

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

About the Author

Keep Reading …

By the same author

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Peckham, Spring 1965

‘Pete’s done us proud, ain’t he?’ Lily Culling grinned at her daughter as she looked around her new kitchen with delight. ‘Mavis, look at that, proper hot water and everything. And a new cooker too. It’s the first time I ever had one of those. I’ll be able to do some lovely sausage and mash on that, Pete, your favourite.’

Pete beamed at his wife but shook his head. ‘It’s only what you deserve. God knows we’ve waited long enough for it. I’m only sorry it took ages to get it all finished. I wanted it done while Bobby was still young enough to keep out of mischief but look at him, there’s no stopping him now.’

Bobby paused when he heard his name, but then carried on chasing James and Grace around and into the patch of garden at the back of the house. He was two and a half and into everything. It didn’t help that he was the youngest of the household too and spoilt rotten.

‘It’s lovely to see them playing together,’ Mavis said. ‘It’s funny to think that Bobby is the youngest. He’s their uncle, but I doubt he understands that.’

‘Well, love, it is a bit complicated,’ Lily replied. ‘How do you explain to a two-year-old that you’re my daughter from my first marriage, and that he’s from my second? Same mother, but different fathers so you’re his half-sister. Not only that, you already had James who is now eight and Grace who is six when I gave birth to him.’

‘It’s enough to confuse anyone.’ Pete commented.

‘I’ll explain it all to him when he’s older,’ Lily said as she once again looked around her new kitchen. ‘Oh, I love this house, Pete. You’ve done a wonderful job of converting it into two generous-sized flats.’

‘I love it too, Mum,’ said Mavis. ‘James and Grace will have their own bedrooms instead of sharing. It’s not like when I was their age is it? I remember that damp, old kitchen in Battersea and you didn’t have anything modern or new then.’

‘Don’t remind me.’ Lily shuddered. ‘Your dad off gambling all our money away, me never knowing where the next penny was coming from and if I’d be able to feed you or not.’ She patted her hair, reluctant to remember those days of extreme poverty. She didn’t intend to go back to that hand-to-mouth way of life. Even though she was well into her forties she still took care of her appearance, using the peroxide often enough to stop the roots showing through, determined nobody would notice if she was going grey or not. She prided herself on keeping her figure – not something many women who’d had a child at her age could boast of. ‘Still, you didn’t know no different when you were little. And half the stuff was still rationed. Those three out there don’t know they’re born. Nothing but good times ahead for us now, pet. You just see if I’m not right.’

Mavis smiled and crossed her fingers. ‘Hope so. Now we’re here it’s a fresh start for all of us.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ said Pete, proud of all he’d done to keep this family together. He was a bricklayer by trade and had worked his fingers to the bone until he’d had enough money to set up his own company. He had started off by doing small jobs but finally was in a position to go for the bigger projects, and that had all been down to his own hard graft. Now he’d found this big house and finally got it done up. Nobody else need know about the enormous loan that had made it possible. Good times were on their way for his business and nothing was going to spoil it. He’d done all this without a helping hand from anybody, and still had to pinch himself when he realised he really was married to Lily and he’d given her the life he’d always known she deserved. He certainly wasn’t going to worry her by telling her about the loan. There were no flies on Lily, but he knew it was his job to be the provider for the family, and that was exactly what he intended to be.

‘Best thing about this place is there’s a decent pub just round the corner,’ he said. ‘I fancy a pint and reckon I deserve it after all that lifting. You coming to join me, Lily, just for a change? See if we can get to know any of the new faces?’

Lily turned to her daughter. ‘I might go, just the once. It’s something to celebrate, after all. I won’t be long. You’ll be all right, stopping here with the kids?’

Mavis nodded. ‘You go and have a good time. You worked hard for this and helped to pack a lot of my stuff too when I was busy sorting out James and Grace. Don’t worry about me. Tommy will be over later to see how we got on.’

‘You got a good man there.’ Lily approved of Tommy. When he’d first come on the scene she hadn’t been sure about him as he’d been a bit of a tearaway in his youth, but he’d turned into a real tower of strength for Mavis just when she needed one. ‘Be giving him a tour of your new bedroom, will you?’

‘Mum!’ Mavis quickly checked that the children were all out of earshot. ‘Don’t go saying that. It’s all very well for you, but I’m not rushing into anything. Tommy knows that. So don’t you go putting ideas into his head.’

‘You’ve been seeing him for ages, and if you ask me the man’s a saint to wait for so long.’

‘Mum!’ Mavis warned again.

Lily grinned and then winked at her husband. ‘Come on then, Pete. I might let you show me a good time, an’ all.’

Pete caught her round the waist, grinning from ear to ear. He might not be much of a looker, with his boxer’s face and skin still scarred from teenage acne, but he loved her mum, thought Mavis. He’d done them proud all right and she was grateful to him for that. ‘You go on, I’ll make sure Bobby goes to bed on time.’

‘And we’ll be back before its James’s bedtime so you won’t have to worry about leaving any of them on their own in a different part of the house.’ Lily grabbed her handbag. ‘See you later. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’ She allowed Pete to open the newly painted door for her and they were gone.

Well that didn’t rule much out, Mavis thought ruefully. How different her mother was to her. Lily had begun her affair with Pete not long after Mavis’s father had gone missing, which Mavis, a lonely teenager at the time, had found unbearably hard and impossible to accept. By the time her father finally reappeared, close to death after years of gambling and drinking had ruined him, Lily and Pete had been living together. They’d only married after Mavis’s dad had died and when Lily was heavily pregnant with Bobby. It had scandalised the neighbours when they eventually found out, but then they had moved away to Peckham and a fresh start.

Mavis had to open a few cupboard doors to find the teapot. She remembered when she was a girl that her mother would use the same tea leaves several times as they couldn’t afford fresh. Mavis grimaced, remembering how dreadfully clumsy she had been which had tried her mother’s patience. She’d also been considered backward because she couldn’t learn to read and write.

As she made the tea, Mavis found herself thinking about Rhona Foster and knew she would miss having her vivacious friend and neighbour popping in from next door now that they had moved away from Harmond Street. Rhona wouldn’t have thought twice about showing Tommy her bedroom, Mavis thought. Though they had become friends, they were as different as chalk and cheese.

Everything had changed for Mavis when she’d married Alec, James and Grace’s father. After leaving school with no qualifications she’d helped his snobbish mother run her house. It was Alec’s mother who realised that her inability to read and clumsiness wasn’t caused by lack of intelligence. It was due to word blindness, and though she had never learned to read, she had managed to overcome her clumsiness. No, she wasn’t backward, Mavis thought ruefully, but she had been very naïve and what she hadn’t realised was that she was being groomed by Alec’s mother to be his perfect submissive wife. Because she’d been desperate to get away from Lily and Pete, she’d fallen for it – and ended up in a terrible abusive relationship.

When the domineering old woman had died, Mavis had found the courage to leave Alec. He’d sold the house that he’d inherited from his mother two years ago, hadn’t given Mavis her share of the money, and moved out. He’d disappeared without a trace, but nobody was sorry to see the back of him. Except that, as she had no way of making contact with him, she couldn’t get a divorce.

‘I’m thirsty. Can I have a drink please, Mummy?’

‘Of course you can,’ Mavis said, smiling fondly at her son. ‘Orange juice?’

James nodded and as she mixed the juice with water, Mavis’s mind was still full of memories. Grace could hardly remember her real father and James’s memories of him were fading day by day. That was a good thing as Alec had beaten James badly, although not as often as he’d beaten her. Mavis shuddered as she recalled the pain of the frequent bruises she’d had to keep hidden for so long.

‘I want some juice too,’ another voice demanded.

‘Grace, you won’t get anything unless you ask for it properly,’ Mavis said sternly.

Grace looked sullen for a moment, but then said, ‘Please can I have some orange juice.’

‘That’s better,’ Mavis said approvingly and when Bobby appeared she made him a drink too.

Once finished they all ran off again, while Mavis poured herself a cup of tea and then stood sipping it whilst watching the children through the kitchen window. James was now running around without a care in the world. He was still a thoughtful little boy, often seeming older than his eight years, and he wasn’t as withdrawn and fearful as he’d once been. As for Grace, even when a toddler she’d always said exactly what she thought – nobody had ever had to teach her how to put her foot down. She was more like her Granny Lily than anyone else and Lily was very fond of her granddaughter.

Mavis smiled ruefully again. As a girl she had found school hard, which had led to her being friendless and awkward. Grace on the other hand was fearless. She was a force to be reckoned with, and her teachers didn’t know whether to praise her for her willingness to speak up in class or to punish her for never shutting up. Yet she was generous and kind-hearted – there she was now, making sure Bobby was all right after he’d taken a tumble. Mavis started, wondering if she should rush out, but Bobby didn’t cry and she could see he’d only grazed his knee. He was made of tough stuff, the spitting image of Pete right down to the squashed nose. He’d known nothing but love all his short life and responded by loving everyone right back.

Mavis decided she’d finish her tea and then call them in as the light was fading and it would be getting cold, even if they were running about like champion athletes, exploring every nook and cranny of the new garden. She’d give them something to eat and a Corona fizzy drink for a treat to mark their first day in their new home. Then Tommy would be here.

Tommy. Her heart flipped over. Despite what Lily said, Mavis wouldn’t be giving him a tour of her bedroom in the upstairs flat, no matter how much she might want to. It wasn’t so much that Mavis craved respectability; she’d done that once and a fat lot of good it had done her. It was fear that held her back, along with the fact that she doubted she could ever completely trust a man again, even Tommy. He appeared perfect, kind, and caring, but Alec had seemed kind too. All that changed when she married him and she had been through too much to risk making the same mistake again.

‘I’m not bloody having it!’ Rhona Foster, screamed in frustration as they neared the end of their shift. ‘How the hell do they expect us to do the same work but faster? Whose bright idea was that? They can stuff it, I’m not going to do it.’

‘Yes you are and you know it.’ Jean Barker, at twenty-six – seven years older than her hot-tempered colleague – had seen and heard it all before. Anyone could tell from a glance at her that she took no nonsense, from her sensible shoes to her tidy brown hair, now hidden under the regulation scarf they were all meant to wear on shift, though the younger ones often ignored the rule. ‘It won’t make any difference what we say. You’ve been at this factory for three years now, Rhona, and can you remember a time when the foreman ever listened to us? So we got to put up with it and get on with it. Unless you want to lose your job, which I can’t see your mum being very happy about. I sure as hell don’t want to lose mine.’ She began to fold the cardboard boxes that had been stacked flat in the back room of the factory. ‘Come on, let’s make a start.’

‘Rhona’s right, they’re picking on us,’ moaned Penny, who at eighteen was the youngest of them, a year younger than Rhona and half a head shorter. She shook her mass of wavy blonde hair. ‘It’s not fair. I’ll break me nails. I don’t know why we have to lift those horrible filthy things anyway.’

‘It might have something to do with someone round here chucking the foreman’s nephew last week,’ Jean said. ‘I’m not casting aspersions, just saying. There he was, thinking it was love’s young dream, and then he gets the old heave-ho before he even knows there’s something wrong. Get bored, did you, Rhona?’

Rhona shut her eyes in exasperation. ‘For God’s sake. He was awful. Hands like a wandering octopus, and he kissed like a flabby sponge. Couldn’t dance, couldn’t get me backstage. What earthly use was he? I only went out with him ’cos he said he could get free tickets to the Talisman club and then it turned out we had to pay anyway. Good riddance to him. I’d rather stack boxes than get stuck with him for another evening, and that’s saying something. Sorry, girls, that’s the truth.’

‘So my nails get ruined ’cos you chucked Andy Forsyth?’ Penny glared at her friend.

‘You don’t seriously expect me to make up with him for that?’ Rhona glared back. ‘And put your scarf back over your hair or you’ll get it full of dust and then you’ll blame me for that as well.’

‘I hate wearing it. It makes me look like me Auntie Rita and she’s nearly fifty.’ Penny made a face as if she couldn’t imagine anything worse. But she did as she was told, because getting factory dust out of her curls took ages and she hoped to have better things to do with her time. She noted that Rhona still hadn’t put her own scarf on.

‘Well, you should be used to it,’ said Jean without sympathy. ‘Get on with it, Penny, or we’ll be here until Saturday, and I’m sure you’ve got other ways to spend your weekend than finishing off this lot.’

‘I know I have,’ said Rhona and gave them a wink as the thought of what was in store brightened her mood. ‘I’ve found myself another hot date. He’s gorgeous, he plays the guitar and guess what he’s got backstage passes to?’

Jean shook her head as she really didn’t care, but Penny was beside herself with curiosity, her curls bobbing up and down. ‘Where? Go on, don’t be mean, what are you up to? Has he got a friend, can I come? Aren’t you going to tell us?’

Rhona pretended to turn away but she couldn’t resist her moment of triumph. ‘I’m going all the way up to North London to see the Rolling Stones. How about that?’

Jean shrugged, as she couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. Penny screamed and quickly covered her mouth with her hands. Rhona glowed. ‘Yep, he’s called Kenneth and he knows everybody, I mean everybody, and he’s going to introduce me to the band and everyone behind the scenes. So why do I care about this stupid factory?’ She tossed her hair, which she tried to style like Brigitte Bardot’s, though that wasn’t easy working in such a place. She liked it when people said she looked like the film star though – and there was a reasonable resemblance, as Rhona’s eyes were dark and wide, and her hair a similar blonde. ‘You heard it here first, folks. He might be my ticket away from all of this.’

Chapter Two

Tommy Wilson checked the sign at the end of the street to make sure he’d come to the right place. It wasn’t as if this was his first time in Peckham, but he wasn’t as familiar with the area as he was with his old stamping ground, Battersea, or with where he lived now, over in Wandsworth. Still, he thought as he thrust his hands in his jacket pockets against the cold, with luck he’d be seeing a whole lot more of this road. If this was where Mavis lived then this was where he wanted to be.

He still counted himself lucky that she’d agreed to go out with him, even though they’d been dating for a year and a half. He knew Mavis was the one for him. But he’d treated her so badly when they were kids growing up on the same mean and dingy street that he wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d said she wanted nothing to do with him.

When they’d met again as adults, it was soon clear the attraction ran deep on both sides. But the timing wasn’t right. He had just got divorced from his wife, Belinda. He hadn’t wanted to admit it but inside he’d been a mess. As for Mavis, she’d been married to that cold fish, Alec Pugh. What a useless excuse for a man he had been – or still was, wherever he was. A coward as well as a bully. Tommy clenched his fists at the memory. He couldn’t abide men who abused their physical superiority and beat women and children. He seethed at the thought of anyone laying a hand on Mavis in anger.

He checked the numbers on the front of the houses. He was nearly there. The buildings were of three storeys, with tall windows, and it didn’t look too bad a place at all. After Alec’s disappearance, Mavis had rented a small house on Harwood Street for a couple of years, not too far from here, next to her mother and Pete. Although it was a step up from Battersea it had been too cramped for her and two growing children. But these places, even though they were still terraced, looked much bigger. Mavis had said the road had a dog-leg bend and they were in the corner of that. Here it was – just as she’d described it. The front of the house was, if anything, narrower than those around it but Mavis had said around the back, because of the bend, there was a bigger garden than those of the neighbouring properties. So it would be ideal for the kids, and she and Lily would still have lots of space for a washing line and maybe even some vegetable beds.

Tommy smiled to himself. He couldn’t quite see Lily getting her hands dirty planting up tomatoes.

For a moment he wondered what it would be like to work in the garden with Mavis. He’d build them a couple of raised beds, and he’d show James how to hammer them together at the corners, or maybe they could get a shed … He shook himself. First things first. He was always getting carried away with dreams of the future but before any of that could happen they had to sort out the present. He was sure Mavis felt the same way about him as he did about her, but he couldn’t blame her for being cagey. She’d been badly hurt and he had to let time take its course and heal her deep wounds.

Again Tommy felt a surge of anger at Alec Pugh and his brutal behaviour. Calm down, he told himself. This is a day to celebrate. New house, new start. He fingered the little box he carried in his pocket and pictured Mavis’s beautiful face when she saw it.

‘Sure you don’t want anything stronger, sweetheart?’ asked Pete, picking up his empty pint glass and standing, stretching to ease his aching back. ‘I’ll have one more of these then we can get home. This isn’t a bad local, is it?’ He gazed around the lounge bar, all polished brass and dark wood. ‘I passed it by loads of times when we were doing the house up but never came in. See what we were missing out on.’

‘I’ll stick to bitter lemon,’ said Lily. She’d never been one for drinking – she’d had enough of that from her first husband who, if he wasn’t gambling away their rent money, was blowing it down the pub. ‘I like it in here. At least I’ll know where to find you from now on.’

‘I can’t keep away from you for long, you know that.’ Pete eyed his wife appreciatively. He was a lucky man and he knew it. He was under no illusions about his looks and yet he was married to a stunner. All those years of waiting had been worth it. He felt on top of the world. His own business, the most gorgeous woman in London and, just when he’d given up hope, a son of his very own who was the spitting image of him. A pity Bobby hadn’t inherited his mother’s head-turning looks in some ways; but Pete knew plenty of blokes who were far more handsome than him yet it hadn’t brought them happiness.

No, when times were tough, Pete thought, it was all about character, that’s what got you through. That’s what had got him to where he was today. If anyone deserved a second pint it was him: he owned that whole house, and he’d fitted it out to keep his family safe. He pushed to the back of his mind the uncomfortable thought that it wasn’t exactly bought and paid for. He’d be able to meet the mortgage without a problem just as soon as the big construction project was confirmed, and it was well-nigh one hundred per cent certain that it would be. He was proud that his company was the front runner for it – who’d have thought a bricklayer like him could end up doing so well? No need to worry, and certainly no need to share that bit of information with Lily.

Lily watched him, nursing her small glass in her hand. She didn’t want to admit how tired she was. Everyone said moving house was one of the most stressful things you could do, and God knew she’d had to do it often enough. This was different though: no more renting, getting by in substandard places with dodgy landlords and dodgier agents. They now had their very own place – and with Mavis safe above them, she could keep an eye on her beloved grandchildren too. Guiltily, Lily recalled how she hadn’t lavished love on Mavis when she’d been a child. She hadn’t been able to understand why her daughter had been so difficult and awkward, but nobody had heard of word blindness then. Now Lily intended to make up for it by devoting herself to James and Grace, and ensuring Bobby wanted for nothing. Blimey, fancy being a mother at her age. No wonder she was tired. She just didn’t have the energy to cope with a very active toddler and move house.

‘Here you go, girl.’ Pete put a glass of bitter lemon in front of her. The bright lights of the pub reflected in the cloudy liquid. ‘We might want to take our time over this. I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier. Maybe Mavis will be giving Tommy a tour of her new bedroom.’

Lily eyed him above the rim of her raised glass. ‘No, Pete. I don’t think so.’ She sighed. ‘Mavis ain’t like me, not in that respect. Once bitten twice shy, that’s her problem, and as it was so hard fought, she doesn’t want to give up her independence.’

‘Yeah, I know, but Tommy won’t wait forever.’

‘Well nothing is going to happen at the moment, that’s for sure. Mavis is looking after the kids. Bobby will have gone to bed by now but James won’t and I bet Grace is playing up with her first night in her new room by herself.’

‘Ah, well.’ Pete settled on the red banquette beside her. He took a swig and got foam all over his top lip. ‘We’ll maybe make the most of our new privacy when we get home. I did those dividing walls extra careful. We won’t have neighbours with a glass to the wall this time spying on us as we did in Battersea.’ He raised his eyebrows hopefully.

‘You devil, Pete Culling.’ Lily felt a rosy glow spread through her. ‘And at least we don’t have to worry about making Bobby a new brother or sister. There’s advantages to this getting old malarkey after all.’

‘I don’t want to go to bed!’ Grace yelled, struggling as her mother tried to hug her. ‘I hate my room! There’s monsters behind that cupboard!’

‘There, there.’ Mavis knew the tantrum would subside if she gave it enough time. Typically Grace, who’d done nothing but complain about having to share a room with her brother, was now kicking up a storm faced with being left to sleep on her own. She’d get over it soon enough. She’d chosen the colours for the room herself – purple walls and pale green woodwork. It might not have been the choice of most other little girls but Mavis had to admit the colours went well together. Maybe her daughter had an eye for such things even at such a young age.

‘Stay with me, Mummy.’

Grace gazed up and Mavis felt her heart constrict with love. Still, she knew she couldn’t curl up beside the girl on the new bed with its smart white headboard, as James was still up, minding Bobby in his room below. Instead she drew out a battered teddy from behind the pillow. ‘Look who has come all this way to stay with you. Recognise him?’

‘It’s Little Ted!’ Grace exclaimed, and the tears stopped. She’d taken a fancy to the children’s TV programme Play School, which she’d been able to watch when visiting their old neighbours, the Bonners, and Little Ted was her favourite toy on it. So she’d named her own teddy after him. Mavis was hoping to get a television for the flat but thought it best not to mention it until it happened, or Grace would be inconsolable.

The doorbell rang and Mavis had to take a moment to realise what the unfamiliar sound was. Back in Harwood Street everyone just banged on the door, but Pete had insisted they had a bell, so that Mavis would be able to hear it from the top floor. ‘Right, time to say night-night. See if you can race Little Ted to be first asleep.’ She kissed the top of her daughter’s head as Grace snuggled down, pulling the new purple eiderdown up to her chin. ‘Sleep tight.’

‘Mmmmmm.’ Grace was already seriously challenging Little Ted to the prize.

Mavis paused at the mirror in the hallway, checking her hair, even though she knew she’d hardly be expected to look glamorous after a day moving house. Her dark curls were flattened where they usually bounced attractively but her blue eyes had that sparkle which always appeared when she knew she’d soon see Tommy. Brushing the dust from her cardigan, which she’d thrown over her shift dress, she ran down the stairs. Although it had only been a couple of days she didn’t want to be parted from Tommy for a minute longer.

She could see his silhouette through the glass panels in the upper part of the front door that both flats shared. He was tall, and also had dark curly hair, which he kept quite short or it would have got in the way. Tommy had trained as a signwriter, but now he managed his own firm and didn’t do so much of the painting himself. He ran the business from a yard not far from where they’d grown up, much to the disgust of his meddlesome mother who couldn’t get over the fact her son had gone through the disgrace of a divorce.

Tommy grinned broadly as she opened the door and immediately stepped in and took her in his arms. ‘Hello, gorgeous.’

‘Stop it, Tommy, the neighbours will see!’ Mavis reached around him and pushed the door shut again.

‘Thought you didn’t care?’

‘Not normally, no, but why give them something to gossip about if we don’t have to.’ Mavis led him into Lily and Pete’s flat. ‘Come and look around. James is through there, minding Bobby, so we’ll leave that room till last. But here’s the living room. Have a seat while I make you a cup of tea.’

Tommy looked around at the three-piece suite clustered around the electric fire in the tiled grate. ‘Very nice, but I’d rather be with you. Show me the kitchen.’ He followed her through to the back of the house. ‘How did the move go? Everything unpacked yet?’

‘You must be joking.’ She pointed at a pile of boxes, still bulging with their contents. ‘We’ve only got as far as the essentials. I haven’t even found my own teapot, I’ve just used Mum’s.’ She handed him a cup and reached for one herself. ‘Haven’t found a matching set yet, but I don’t suppose you’ll mind?’

‘Hardly. I’d drink out of tin cans as long as it was with you.’ He pulled her close again. ‘I love to see you so happy. Give me a kiss, a proper one.’ He bent his face to hers. ‘Listen, I’ve got something for you.’ He reached into his jacket pocket.

Mavis rested her head against his shoulder. ‘Silly, I don’t need a present.’

‘I know you don’t but I wanted to mark the occasion.’ He drew out the little box.

Mavis gasped. For a moment she hesitated and an uncertain look came into her eyes. ‘What … what’s this, Tommy?’

‘Go on, open it.’

With trembling fingers she took off the lid, to reveal a sparkling gold chain attached to a small locket. ‘Oh, Tommy.’

‘Do you like it?’ He could hardly keep the eagerness from his voice. ‘I know it’s not your birthday until April but I saw it in a jeweller’s window and I knew it would look just right on you. Do you want me to fasten it for you?’

‘Please.’ Mavis took a deep breath and tried to calm down. For a second she’d been struck with fear and yet it was mixed with desperate hope. Now she felt stupid for having overreacted. It was a beautiful present, and from the name on the box it must have been expensive, but it was a necklace. ‘There’s a mirror over the fireplace so let’s go back to the front room where I can see it. Thank you so much, Tommy, that’s really thoughtful.’

She led him into the sitting room and switched on the table lamp in the corner near the mantelpiece. Now she could see how lovely the present was, and that it sat perfectly just above her collarbone. How well Tommy knew her. He stood just behind her and gazed at her reflection in the big mirror. He bent his head so he could whisper in her ear.

‘You look gorgeous. Is it all right?’ His eyes were bright with pleasure.

Mavis turned around so he could kiss her again. As he dropped his head and his lips met hers, she told herself not to be ridiculous, but couldn’t help a shudder of relief tinged with disappointment. She’d thought just fleetingly that it was a ring in the little box and he was going to ask her to marry him. Mavis knew she couldn’t say yes – she didn’t know when she would be free. She was overwhelmed with a need to give herself to this man who loved her and understood her, who she believed would do anything for her. But after what she had been through with Alec, she couldn’t.

Not yet. Maybe never. She just couldn’t.

Chapter Three

‘And then he left me there, stranded!’ Rhona was outraged. ‘Can you believe it?’

‘I hope you told him where to get off,’ said Penny loyally. ‘I hope you rang him this morning and gave him a right earbashing. What a thing to do. Anything could have happened to you.’

‘And I was freezing!’ Rhona continued. ‘I had my new miniskirt on and how was I to know we were going there on his motorbike? Then I had to get night buses home. All the way from bleeding Enfield. Can I have one of your fags?’ She reached across the scratched wood coffee table to her friend’s handbag. ‘I left my last packet in his jacket and I’ve not had a change to buy any more. I made him give me it to wear once we got there, and now the bastard has got them, and I hope he bloody chokes.’

‘Serve him right,’ said Penny. She’d come round as soon as breakfast was finished to see how the night had gone and to share in the excitement, only to find her colleague furious and swearing vengeance. Kenneth had made good his promise to take Rhona to see the Rolling Stones and then to get her backstage after the concert. His claims to know the band’s crew weren’t idle boasts. The trouble was, he’d been asked along to the after-show party but it had been made clear extra friends weren’t welcome, even those as young and glamorous as Rhona. It turned out the band had more than enough of those kinds of followers already. So Kenneth had dropped Rhona without a backward glance, leaving her to make her own way back to the other side of London late on a Friday night, without so much as a cigarette for comfort. Of course he hadn’t answered his phone that morning. Someone in his shared digs had taken the call, not best pleased to have been woken before midday, but Kenneth was nowhere to be found. He’d be sleeping off his hangover somewhere safe from Rhona’s rage.

‘Was it worth it though?’ Penny wondered. She pulled at her own miniskirt, which she’d got from the market. It looked all right but the material was cheap and scratchy, and too flimsy for the chilly spring weather. Still, she wouldn’t give in and change it, as it was important to have the right look even round her friend’s house on a Saturday morning. ‘You did see the Stones, after all. I’d kill to see them.’

‘Mmmmm.’ Rhona prolonged the moment. It had been a fantastic gig, she had to admit. The energy of the band had been electric and she’d been totally mesmerised by Brian Jones. She definitely wouldn’t have minded being at the party with him. Damn that Kenneth for denying her the chance. ‘They did loads of their singles, like “Time is on My Side” and “Not Fade Away”. I danced till my feet were sore. Everyone was singing along, you’ve never seen anything like it.’

‘I love those ones.’ Penny was wistful. If only she could get a date who’d take her to concerts like that. It would be worth the bad journey home to be able to say she’d seen the Stones. Everyone was talking about them and she was sure they’d be properly famous for ages. ‘Give me those cigarettes, I’ll have one meself.’ She paused as Rhona’s mother came into the room.

‘Morning, Penny.’ Marilyn Foster was a lively woman of nearly fifty, with an uncontrollable frizz of brown hair. ‘Nice to see you. Have you had any breakfast? I was out cleaning earlier so I’m making some toast now, do you want any?’

‘No thank you, Mrs Foster,’ said Penny politely, pulling her skirt further down her thighs. She was a bit in awe of Rhona’s straight-talking mother.

‘Well, you’re always welcome.’ Marilyn made for the door again. ‘Rhona’s going to be lonely without Mavis nearby so you must feel free to drop in at any time.’

Rhona pulled a face as her mother went out. ‘She thinks I’m still at school sometimes. I don’t need to have her making my friends for me.’

‘Course you don’t,’ said Penny, taking a deep drag. ‘Ah, that’s better. No, but you will miss her though, won’t you? You and Mavis were really close.’

Rhona nodded. She was guiltily aware that she’d been the one person who wasn’t delighted when the news came that Pete had finally bought the big house and the family would be moving from Harwood Street. Mavis had come round thrilled to bits and Rhona had had a hard job trying to appear enthusiastic. For some reason, though they were polar opposites in temperament, she and Mavis had got on like a house on fire. Maybe it was because they were so different. Rhona’s wild years had started when she was sixteen, when she’d discovered the joys of dating all available gorgeous men, and she had even tried flirting with Tommy before the penny dropped that he was interested in only one woman.

Mavis hadn’t judged her, unlike all the other women and even girls her own age who’d found out – and it wasn’t as if Rhona made a secret of her enjoyment of sex. Mavis had been baffled, more than anything. Having had such a bad marriage, which she’d entered into when she was just sixteen herself, she couldn’t understand why her friend bothered. Rhona had tried to explain the fascination: the thrill of the chase, the knowledge that your body drove men mad, and the fun that was to be had. But Mavis was unconvinced. Her priorities lay elsewhere, but she enjoyed hearing Rhona tell of her exploits, maybe because she herself wanted nothing more than to stay home to look after her beloved children. Rhona sighed. Even though Mavis hadn’t moved far away, it wouldn’t be the same in future.

‘No point in sitting around moping,’ she said now. ‘Right, that’s Kenneth done for. I wouldn’t go out with him again if he came round here begging on his hands and knees. I’d shove him back out the door and sing him “It’s All Over Now”. What are you up to tonight, Penny?’

Penny shrugged. She didn’t have a date and had no plans, much the same as every Saturday night, though she hated to admit it. ‘Not sure. Why?’

‘Let’s cheer ourselves up and go down the Talisman club. We don’t need no men to get us in, we’ve just got our wages so we can pay for ourselves. What do you reckon?’

Penny’s eyes shone. ‘I’d love to … but me mum—’

‘Don’t worry about her. Say you’re staying round here. Mum won’t mind, she just said you’re welcome any time. Then neither of us will be stuck trying to get home alone. I don’t fancy that two nights in a row.’

‘OK, right, you’re on.’ Penny pulled a face. ‘What’ll I wear? I got this new skirt but nothing to go with it.’

‘Let’s go and sort that out right now.’ Rhona got up and drew the old dressing gown she’d been wearing more tightly around her. ‘I’ll just go and get out of this then we can go down the market and see what they have to offer. Can’t have you showing me up,’ she said, though she wasn’t averse to having a friend slightly less attractive than herself. Rhona had no doubts about why men made a beeline for her, but it often helped to have a willing accomplice who didn’t threaten to steal the best-looking guy in the room. Penny fitted the bill perfectly: pretty but not stunning, friendly but not too confident, curvy but not drop-dead sexy. It wouldn’t hurt to get her dressed up a bit.

‘Lovely. I haven’t been down there since I got this skirt.’ Penny stood up. ‘I might look for some new false eyelashes as well. Now that I’ve got the hang of them I feel naked going out without them.’ She giggled. ‘First time I tried them my mum screamed the house down – thought it was a big spider in the basin.’

‘Can’t say I blame her,’ said Rhona, ‘but it’s a good idea. Might get some more meself.’

Mavis was already getting to know her new local market, armed with a list of items needed for the house. It was daft, she told herself as she recalled the familiar ache she always felt when she had said goodnight to Tommy. What she wouldn’t have given to have him stay the night … Pull yourself together, she muttered. It’s not as if he hasn’t made it obvious he’d like to stay, but you don’t let him and you know why perfectly well. So stop feeling sorry for yourself.

For some reason she’d never really explored this market, even though it was just round the corner from Peckham Rye station. She’d often come down Rye Lane to get to the big shops, and had window-shopped at Jones & Higgins, although she knew that such fine goods would never make their way into her cramped rented house. But now – why not? She might have to get most of her list from the market but perhaps she could treat herself to one or two things from the prestigious store where the more well-off members of the local population bought their homeware.

Meanwhile she had to buy a tea strainer. When she’d got round to unpacking her own crockery and kitchenware it was nowhere to be found, and she couldn’t keep running downstairs to borrow Lily’s. Grace wanted a new purple pencil case to match her room. She also wanted a purple dress and coat along with a matching scarf for Little Ted, but Mavis had pointed out that the pencil case would be the most useful and she couldn’t have everything. The little girl had sulked for a minute over breakfast but soon cheered up when her mother had tuned the wireless to Radio Caroline. Grace was already a dab hand at singing along with the pop songs, effortlessly learning all the words.

Mavis stopped to check the price of some cleaning materials, which were bound to come in handy. ‘Do you three for the price of two on those,’ said the stallholder. ‘Genuine Ajax, that is, none of your cheap imitations you’ll get elsewhere. Got a lot of floors? This’ll sort you out. My missus swears by it.’

Mavis nodded and agreed to take three, reckoning that if she didn’t need them all then Lily surely would. ‘And some dusters, while you’re at it.’

‘Throw them in for nothing,’ offered the stallholder, picking up a small packet. ‘Now how about some rubber gloves? Lovely soft hands, you got,’ he added as he took her money and lingered for just a moment too long.

‘Thanks,’ said Mavis, moving hastily away. Rubber gloves could wait. She made a note to get any scouring powder elsewhere in future. She felt like running back to the house but told herself not to be silly. It was only a bit of harmless flattery, the bloke was just a bit on the creepy side. No doubt other women loved it and kept coming back for more. Anyway she’d have to get Grace something or there’d be tears and recriminations all weekend. Then if she got her daughter something it was only fair to find a little present for James too. He was so good, he hardly ever complained when Grace got more attention, so she had to try extra hard to make sure he didn’t miss out.

All around her the crowds were growing, bargain-hunting women and men enjoying their morning off, young children being dragged along by their parents, one getting a clip around the ear for trying to take a piece of fruit off a stall. ‘I was only lookin’,’ the boy wailed. Mavis couldn’t blame him; the display was colourful and would have tempted anyone.

‘You keep your thieving hands to yerself,’ snapped his mother, smacking him again. ‘You’ll go without yer dinner if I catch you doing that again.’

Mavis looked away. After witnessing what Alec had done to James, she couldn’t bear to see a child being hit, even if it wasn’t anything more than a light tap. Lord knows she’d been on the receiving end of it herself, first from her mother, then from her husband, and she never wanted to be in that position again.

Noticing a stall selling toys and stationery, Mavis wandered over when she spotted a flash of purple. Exactly what Grace wanted – a plastic pencil case. She picked it up and added a set of coloured pencils for James. They’d come in handy for school even if he wasn’t as keen on drawing as his sister. Thankfully the stallholder took her money without trying to get to know her. He was engaged in conversation with another customer, something about some old roads being knocked down to make room for new houses. The same thing was happening in many parts of London; houses being demolished to make way for towering blocks of flats.

Turning to walk away, Mavis thought she saw a familiar face, which stopped her in her tracks. An older woman slammed into her back. ‘’Ere, what do you think you’re doing?’ the old harridan roared. ‘Almost made me drop my bags, you did. You wanna watch what you’re about.’

‘Sorry,’ Mavis said, shaken and distracted. It couldn’t have been who she thought it was. He didn’t live round here – he’d left Battersea years ago and as far as she knew he had no reason to come back to any part of South London. Maybe it was a trick of the light – he’d have changed a lot since she last saw him. What would it have been since she’d last seen him? Ten years? She was jumpy after the creepy stallholder, that was all it was.

Clutching her shopping bag tightly, Mavis headed in the opposite direction, trying to enjoy the spectacle of the Saturday morning market in full swing. There were some teenage girls laughing at a clothes stall, holding up dresses in the latest styles, hurriedly copied from the West End shops and run up in cheaper fabrics. One of them waved around a miniskirt that was little more than a pelmet, giggling wildly. Another had a top in sharp geometric patterns that was an exact imitation of something Mavis had seen on Top of the Pops when she’d been round to her friend and former neighbour Jenny Bonner’s. It made her think of Rhona and her outrageous outfits. She wondered how her young friend would get along now she’d moved away from Harwood Street. Don’t be daft, she told herself. It was high time Rhona went out with girls of her own age, and she might even be relieved not to see so much of Mavis. Mavis had always felt herself to be very staid in comparison to her energetic young neighbour, but she knew she’d miss her. It wasn’t just for the gossip and scandalous stories; underneath the good-time girl exterior, the young woman had a heart of gold. She just preferred to keep that a secret, in case some man decided he’d like to break it.

Feeling better, Mavis headed back towards the main road, Peckham Rye. There was still time to pay a visit to the high-end store of Jones & Higgins. But she’d gone off the idea. Maybe when she did go, she could drag Jenny along – her house had a few good-quality things in it and she’d know what a fair price was. The decision made, her mind turned back to that oddly familiar face in the crowd.

If her suspicions were right, Mavis knew she had every right to feel uneasy. What in heaven’s name would have brought Larry Barnet to Peckham?

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