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  Stepping back from the table, he gave a sharp nod of his head and said tersely, ‘I’ll see you later.’

  Florrie sank back against the frame of the chair, her breathing ragged. Quickly she took a large gulp of her diminishing drink, banging her teeth against the glass and spilling a few precious drops down her chin. Why had Alex chosen the Green Dragon? He didn’t normally come in here, and she could have done without seeing him, tonight of all nights. When some twenty minutes later she observed him leaving the pub she gave a sigh of relief, then chided herself for her cowardice. After all, what had she to be frightened of? He was obviously still angry with her for wanting him out of the house, but she imagined he had stayed this long only to spite her. It would be more convenient for him to get a place nearer the docks, and if in the meantime he wanted to try and make her life uncomfortable, well then, let him do his worst – he couldn’t do her any real harm. Yet the feeling of uneasiness remained with her for the rest of the evening, and when the landlord appeared with more drinks she took them gratefully, consuming more than she had intended.

  ‘’Ere, I reckon old Perc ’as got a soft spot for you!’ Two of the regular women had appeared to stand by her side, their ever-watchful hard eyes searching the tap-room for customers.

  ‘Well, as long as it stays soft, she ain’t got nuffink to worry abaht,’ the other woman chimed in, sending them both shrieking with glee.

  But, for once, Florrie didn’t join in their laughter.

  * * *

  Percy Smith let his staff out of the back door and carefully drew the heavy bolts before returning to the bar, and the woman sitting forlornly by herself in the far corner. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he shook his head. He should never have given her all those drinks, but she had looked in dire need of them at the time. Gently taking her elbow, he said quietly, ‘Come on, Flo, you’d better sleep it off upstairs. You can’t go home in that state.’

  Her mind fuddled by the unaccustomed quantities of gin, Florrie stared up at him with bleary eyes. ‘Can’t stay here,’ she slurred drunkenly. ‘Got to get home… Got to see to my children. I…’ Her legs buckled as she tried to stand, her feet sliding along the sawdust-covered floor. Then the room started to spin and fade as she clutched wildly at the solid bulk by her side. Just before she passed out, she heard Percy’s reassuring voice. ‘Don’t worry, Flo. Your son was in ’ere a while back. I told ’im you’d be better off ’ere tonight, and ’e agreed. Now don’t you worry, Flo. You’ll be quite safe in the spare room and, like I said, your son knows where you are. ’E seemed very concerned about you. ’E’s a nice bloke, ain’t ’e? Flo… Flo?’

  Chapter Three

  William Browning watched abstractedly as his daughter swept through the debris of the room like a whirlwind, whipping up every piece of broken china and dangerous items of cutlery that lay in her path. Within the space of twenty minutes of feverish activity she had the parlour back to its original state. His pale brown eyes flickered over the now immaculate room, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He hated any disruption in his ordered life; it frightened him in much the same way as the dark would frighten a small child. When a steaming mug of tea was thrust into his hand, he took it gratefully and moved nearer to the now blazing fire.

  ‘Thanks, Kate, you’re a good girl to your old dad,’ he said, his voice heavy with sadness.

  Sitting in the armchair opposite, Kate regarded her father with pity. He looked so old… old and broken. She knew about his worries concerning his job and wished with all her heart she could help him, but there was nothing she could do. The only person with the slightest chance of saving his job was William himself, but Kate knew he would simply sit back and wait to be dismissed. He had always been weak, and he was too old to change now.

  The corpulent figure that now filled the same armchair once had had room for a child on either side of him as he read a bedtime story. His light brown hair had thinned considerably over the years, but Kate could remember when it had been thick and glossy. His strong features seemed to have dissolved into folds of sagging flesh; only his eyes remained the same. Her gaze moved upwards towards the stained bandage she had wrapped round his bleeding forehead, her lips trembling at the sight.

  Hugging the steaming mug of tea close to her chest, she closed her eyes wearily, her heart and mind divided in a turmoil of conflicting emotions. For while she felt desperately sorry for her father’s plight, she could also understand how a man such as he could irritate and drive someone to distraction. For years she had been aware of her mother’s visits to the pub, and while she constantly worried for her safety, she understood her need to escape occasionally from the confines of the house. Like all children, she had sensed early in her life that her mother was the stronger character and the driving force behind their existence. And, like most children, she had gone to the weaker parent for treats and favours, reserving more pressing problems for her mother’s attention. Yet never had she differentiated between them, loving them equally for the people they were. There rose in her mind a sudden, fearful thought. What if the day should come when she had to choose between the two people she loved more than anyone else in the world? The idea brought with it a frightened thudding of her heart. Closing her eyes, she prayed silently, ‘Please, God, don’t let it come to that. Don’t let me have to choose one over the other.’

  Sometime during the night they dozed off, both of them tired out by the evening’s events. It was much later when they awoke to the sound of the front door opening. Expecting her mother back from the pub, Kate made to rise, then sat back as Alex walked in. Like her parents these days, Kate never knew what kind of mood her half-brother might be in, and her welcoming smile was guarded.

  Alex returned the tremulous smile, his calculating eyes taking in the scene. For a brief moment his lips curled in contempt at the sight of his father, looking for all the world as though he had been in mortal combat. It wasn’t just the pink-stained bandage that covered his forehead, but his whole demeanour. A deep feeling of loathing took hold of Alex at the old man’s plight before turning to one of shame. Shame that this pathetic, useless, specimen of a man was his father.

  ‘Would you like some tea, Alex?’ Kate was rising to her feet.

  At the sound of her soft voice, Alex’s eyes greedily devoured the girl who was by law and birth his sister. Kate’s face was flushed from the fire, her long blonde hair down around her shoulders. Beneath the soft woollen red robe he could see the gentle curve of her breasts, and found himself mentally stripping the garment from her body. Clenching his hands into fists he leant back against the table, unable to meet her gaze, afraid that she might see what was written in his eyes.

  ‘Alex?’

  Shaking the tormenting image from his mind, he turned to face her. Green eyes, identical to her mother’s, stared back at him. But where Florrie’s held bitterness and worldly knowledge, these showed only innocence and concern.

  ‘He’ll be all right,’ she said quickly, thinking her brother was upset at his father’s injuries. ‘It’s not as bad as it looks, honest.’

  Clearing his throat loudly, Alex jerked his head towards William. ‘What happened?’ he demanded, already guessing the answer.

  Kate’s flush deepened, her loyalty divided between speaking against her mother and sympathy for her father. But before she could answer, William muttered from his chair.

  ‘I had an accident.’ His voice cracked tremulously. ‘I—I slipped and banged my head against the table. It’s nothing to worry about. Kate’s seen to it.’ He risked a peep at his son to gauge his reaction to the blatant lie, then quickly turned back to the fire. It had been very comforting to be fussed over by Kate, allowing him the indulgence of a man sorely tested by his wife. But he knew these tactics would cut no ice with his son. William was perfectly aware of his feelings towards him, and if at times the knowledge shamed him, it did nothing to stir him into making an effort to reshape his character. Not while he had his Kate to pamper and fuss ov
er him. Even though he couldn’t see Alex, he could feel his hard brown eyes glaring, could almost hear the silent scorn directed at him. Shakily and with much huffing and sighing, he got to his feet. His antics worked immediately.

  ‘Dad, are you all right?’ Kate was holding his arm, her face filled with concern. ‘Do you want me to help you up the stairs?’

  Gratified at the attention, William endeavoured to put a brave smile on.

  ‘I can manage, love,’ he said with assumed bravery, his hand going to his injured forehead for good measure.

  Alex’s harsh laugh cut into his staged performance, bringing a deeper hue to his father’s cheeks. With as much dignity as he could muster, he walked laboriously towards the landing. Emitting loud, painful, sighs with each step he took, he began to mount the stairs, hoping and expecting Kate to come running, but for once he was disappointed. He waited a few moments more, his head resting on his arm against the banister for maximum effect should Kate suddenly appear, but the landing remained empty. It was obvious that Alex was preventing her from coming after him. His doleful countenance swiftly changed to one of petulance, then with surprising agility he climbed the remaining stairs to his bedroom.

  Back in the parlour, Kate faced Alex angrily. ‘Let go of me, Alex,’ she cried in distress, trying to pull free of her brother’s tight hold. ‘I have to see if dad needs anything.’

  Alex laughed mockingly. ‘The only thing he needs is some backbone! He must have been at the end of the queue when they were handing out spunk. Thank God I’m not like him! I must take after my mum. I don’t remember her well, but I do know she must have been a strong woman, because that one up there could never have managed on his own. He’ll always need someone to look after him, the poor sod; that’s why he latched on to your mum in the first place.’

  ‘That’s not true, it’s not!’ Kate cried hotly, still trying to disengage herself from his vice-like grip. ‘They fell in love, dad told me… Oh, let go, Alex, you’re hurting me. Let go… please!’

  The pressure on her wrist slackened enough to ease the burning pain, but not enough to enable her to escape. Instead, Kate felt herself being drawn closer to Alex’s lean, hard figure. Their bodies almost touching, she stared up into his sombre face. Determined not to let him intimidate her, she glared back, then shrank at the intense look in his cold eyes. Her mouth suddenly dry, she experienced the first stirring of fear. A feeling of unease swept through her body, bringing with it a wild beating of her heart.

  At seventeen, no longer a child, she had seen that same look on the faces of many men on the streets and in the shop when they came in for their tobacco. The hammering of her heart grew wilder as she tried to reason with herself. She must be mistaken. She was over-tired, that was all. Alex couldn’t possibly be looking at her in that way… he was her brother! So why, then, did she feel so ill at ease? Fear lent strength to her arm, and with a quick twist she freed herself and walked unsteadily over to the fire. Her body trembling, she wedged herself in the armchair, pulling her legs up under her dressing-gown and resting her elbows on the arm of the chair to leave no room for Alex to get near her again. She desperately wanted to escape to the safety of her room, but once ensconced in her bolthole, she refused to budge for fear of making herself available to the man who had suddenly become a stranger – a dangerous stranger.

  Alex leant back on his heels, his face grim as he stared across the room at the blonde-haired girl who seemed determined to barricade herself against any further contact with him. Knowing that he had nearly betrayed himself and anxious not to over-play his hand too soon, he spread his lips into a warm, friendly smile with ease. ‘Lord, I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean to frighten you. It was just seeing dad in that state and you running round after him like a mother hen… Well, it just made me see red for a minute. You’re a good kid, and he takes advantage of you.’ With practised casualness he strolled over to the armchair opposite Kate and with a disarming smile gestured towards the empty chair, saying. ‘Do you mind if I sit and keep you company for a while?’

  Kate glanced up at his open, friendly countenance, slowly relaxing at Alex’s return to normality. There was no sign of the frightening stranger of a few minutes ago; there was only her brother. Feeling suddenly foolish, she nodded, ashamed at her earlier fears.

  When he was seated, he held out his hand and said softly, ‘Still friends, Kate?’

  At which, her face dissolved into a watery smile of relief. Reaching out her hand, she grasped his tightly and said shakily. ‘Still friends, Alex.’

  He patted her hand solicitously as one would comfort a small child, relinquished his grasp and turned his face to the blazing fire. Assuming the look of a man beset by problems, he fell silent and waited patiently for Kate to speak. He didn’t have to wait long.

  ‘What’s wrong, Alex? You look worried about something,’ Kate asked in concern. ‘Is it mum and dad? Because, if it is, there’s no need to worry. They’re always arguing; it doesn’t mean anything.’ Her mind carefully skirted over the evening’s incident, dismissing it as something unfortunate that was unlikely to be repeated. ‘You’ll see. Mum’ll be back any minute now, and by morning it’ll all be forgotten.’

  Alex shook his head sadly, his every action proclaiming he knew something she didn’t and was reluctant to burden her with his knowledge.

  ‘Alex, tell me what’s wrong, please! It might help to talk about it. After all, that’s what sisters are for, isn’t it?’

  A cold knot of anger twisted in him at her words. He didn’t like to be reminded of their relationship. Averting his face, he gave a sigh and with seeming reluctance said quietly, ‘Your mum won’t be coming home tonight, Kate. That’s why I was in such a bad mood when I came in, and why I spoke about dad like that. I was angry and upset, and seeing him in such a pitiful state… Well, I felt like hitting him; only it seems Florrie beat me to it. Oh, don’t go trying to deny it,’ he said quickly as Kate made to protest at his statement. ‘I might not have been here, but it doesn’t take a genius to work out what happened, does it?’ he smiled ruefully.

  His words made Kate stare in alarm. Her voice thick with apprehension, she asked, ‘What did you mean about mum not coming home? Has she had an accident? Tell me, Alex! Tell me what’s happened to mum?’

  Satisfied at her reaction, Alex ran a hand over his face, a feeling of power surging through him. Aware of Kate’s frantic gaze, he cleared his throat and with great deliberation chose his next words. ‘I saw her in the Green Dragon earlier on this evening. She’d had a few and was in quite a state. I tried to get her to come home, but she wasn’t having any of it. In fact, she became quite violent when I tried to get her to leave. Anyway, I stopped off back there on my way home to make sure she was all right, and the landlord told me…’ He broke off, as if unable to bring himself to continue.

  In a flash Kate was kneeling by his feet, her hands on his knees. The touch of her hands made him gasp. Fighting to control his emotions, he leant back further in the armchair and crossed his legs, the swift action forcing Kate to drop her hands from his lap.

  Mistaking the reason for his anguished gasp, her fear deepened. ‘Please, Alex, don’t torment me! I want to know what’s happened to mum.’ She was shaking his arm furiously, tears of fright already forming in her eyes.

  Now was the time to drop his bombshell, but for a moment he hesitated. What if his plan backfired on him? What if Florrie, miraculously sobered, came walking through that door and caught him out in his lies? His eyes flickered, then he nodded grimly. To hell with it. He’d waited years for such an opportunity; he wasn’t about to let it slip from his grasp now. With studied gentleness he took hold of Kate’s chin and said sadly, ‘I’m sorry, love, really I am, but your mum’s staying the night with Percy Smith, the landlord. I tried to reason with her, but…’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘The fight with dad must have been the last straw for her, and she’s decided to stop pretending. Oh, Kate, Kate, love, I’m sorry, I’m so so
rry I had to tell you this, but you’ve a right to know what she’s been up to. Dad will have to know, too, it’s only fair. And easy-going, as he is, he won’t put up with being made a fool of. You know what he’s like when he gets on his high horse; he’ll probably throw her out. That’s if she decides to come back. And, let’s be honest, Kate, something like this was bound to happen sooner or later. Now I’m not going to be a hypocrite and pretend I’m heartbroken, because you know as well as the rest of the family that Florrie and I have never got on well. But these past years as I’ve grown older and seen what dad’s like, I’ve even felt sorry for her at times, because no woman likes weakness in a man, especially if the man in question is her husband. But most of all I feel for you and the kids, and – and I’m truly sorry that I was the one to have to tell you what’s happened.’

  Dumbfounded, Kate could only stare at him. She couldn’t believe it. Not her mum! Anyone else’s, but not her mum. Alex must be mistaken… he must be. ‘I don’t… I mean, you must have got it wrong,’ she croaked wildly. ‘Mum would never do such a thing, no matter how unhappy she was. She wouldn’t… She wouldn’t!’ Yet, even as she spoke, she felt a tiny flicker of uncertainty. Her mum must have been in a terrible state when she’d left the house. Who knew what she could do in such a frame of mind?

  Alex had seen the momentary flash of doubt and was quick to press home his advantage. Still in the guise of brother and friend, he spoke kindly. ‘Look, I’ll stop off at the pub tomorrow on my way to work and see if I can talk some sense into her. Though, to be honest, I wouldn’t set your hopes too high. She’s had a bellyful of dad, and I don’t know what started this evening’s fight, but it looks as if whatever it was, it was the last straw. And I think you should face the fact that your mum might not even want to come home. Even if dad does forgive her, she might decide she’d be better off on her own. She’s been very unhappy for a long while, and…’ His voice faltered as he sensed a change come over Kate. She had become calmer, more poised, and the sudden transformation had an unnerving effect on Alex, who lapsed into an uneasy silence.