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  The initial shock wearing off, Kate began to think more rationally. Getting slowly to her feet she paced the room, her mind working furiously. For a moment she had doubted her mother’s integrity – but not now. No matter what Alex said, she wouldn’t believe her mum was carrying on with another man, and was at this minute lying in his bed. No, not her mum… never! She glanced towards the clock on the mantelshelf. It was gone one o’clock. Obviously Alex was telling the truth to some extent, because her mother wouldn’t be walking the street at this time of the morning, but there must be a reasonable explanation for her absence.

  Whirling round on her heels, she folded her arms and spoke in a voice suddenly cold and edged with suspicion. ‘Like you say, Alex, you and mum have never got on together, so perhaps it would be better if I went round to the pub to see her in the morning. I may even meet her on the way. I’d be interested to hear her version of why she chose to stay at the pub instead of coming home.’

  Thoroughly alarmed by the coldness of Kate’s voice, Alex thought fast. ‘That’s not a very good idea,’ he said firmly. ‘The pub’s no place for a young girl like you, even at an early hour of the morning. And, besides, Florrie won’t want you knowing where she spent the night. She loves you very much; she would be devastated if she thought you knew the truth about her and Percy Smith.’ He glanced up, his hopes taking a swift dive at the determined set of her chin. Not only did Kate bear an uncanny resemblance to her mother, she had obviously inherited Florrie’s indomitable spirit into the bargain. Why had he never noticed it before? Up to now, Kate had always been so pliable, so ready to please. He rubbed a hand over his startled face, his movements agitated. He hadn’t bargained for this. He had thought his powers of persuasion would be enough to convince Kate that her mother had been up to no good, and this would have been the first step in alienating Florrie from her family. Now it was obvious he would have to try another tack. Knowing that, come morning, Kate might well disregard his advice and go to the pub by herself, he took a deep breath and played his last card. Skilfully portraying the air of an injured party, he too rose from his armchair, his expression that of one who has been grievously misjudged.

  ‘Look, I don’t blame you for not believing me. I’d probably act the same if she were my mother. But, Kate, what possible reason would I have for lying about something as serious as this, especially as it would be easy enough for you to find me out? We’ll put that aside for the moment, though I’m hurt that you should think me capable of such a malicious act, but just think for a minute about your mother. Wouldn’t it be better for her peace of mind if she thought you didn’t know she had stayed out all night? As you say, she might well make her way here later today. But if you get to the pub before she has a chance to leave, the chance to get back before you and the rest of the children wake, what then? You’ll be putting her in a terrible position, and even if she does manage to persuade you that nothing happened between her and that man, you must see that things would never again be the same between the two of you.’

  Kate wavered. She acknowledged the truth of Alex’s words, yet still she couldn’t shake off the feeling of uneasiness. Warily she held his gaze, and saw only kindness and compassion. The stiffness left her taut body as she nodded tiredly. ‘All right, Alex, I’ll let you go first. I’ll have to take a day off work to look after Billy and get the girls off to school anyway. But if she’s not back here by lunchtime, I’m going to the pub myself, even if I have to take Billy with me. Now I’m going back to bed. I’ll see you later.’

  Alex watched her go, his devious mind frantically trying to find a solution to the predicament he had landed himself in. He cursed his stupidity for imagining Kate would accept his words at face value and turn against her own mother. He still didn’t understand why Florrie had drunk herself almost senseless – she never had before. But, in doing so, she had unwittingly played right into his hands. It would be easy enough to manipulate his father into taking a stand against his wife, especially with Alex by his side to strengthen him. With his scheming mind and ever-ready tongue, he had foreseen no difficulties in turning the entire family against Florrie. With them all aligned together, she would have eventually been forced to leave, paving the way for him to take over as head of the household. In time, to take Kate as well. Now he was in grave danger of having the tables turned on him. He had made a bad error of judgement in underestimating Kate’s character; he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Settling himself back in the armchair, he absently stoked the fire. It wasn’t worth while going to bed. He would never be able to sleep, and he wanted to be at the Green Dragon well before Florrie roused from her drunken slumber. He had no clear plan as to what he would say to her. A lot would depend on her reaction to the fact that she had spent the night under another man’s roof. His lips curved into a sadistic smile. He would make it quite clear to Florrie that her family were all aware of her indiscretion, and were sickened by what she had done. Once he had delivered that bombshell, he would play it by ear and improvise as he went along. After he had finished with her, the bitch would be too ashamed to show her face back here again.

  It was the early hours of the morning before he finally fell into a light sleep, smiling to himself. Not once did he consider the devastating effect it would have on the children if they lost their mother. Neither did he consider his father’s feelings regarding his wife. Still smiling, he dreamed on.

  Chapter Four

  When Florrie awoke and saw her stepson sitting by the side of the bed, her first thought was that she must be dreaming and she immediately drifted back into a heavy sleep.

  Alex remained seated on the hard wooden chair placed there for his convenience by a worried Percy, who now hovered by the door, his beefy face anxious as he awaited developments. He was considerably worried by the grim-faced man’s presence, sure that he was about to bring trouble to himself and Florrie, even though they had done nothing wrong.

  When he had offered Florrie a bed for the night, he hadn’t known that she would be laid low with an upset stomach from the unaccustomed amount of gin she had consumed. Three days now she had lain above his pub, groaning and sweating, only leaving the sweat-soaked bed to visit the water closet, holding on to his arm for support, before staggering thankfully back to the bed. And every dark winter morning of those three days this man had come to sit silently by her, staring at the fevered face of the slumbering woman. The only time he had spoken to Percy was to tell him that on no account was he to admit Florrie’s daughter or husband, should they come looking for her. Instead, he was to tell them that Florrie was indisposed and would return home as soon as she was able.

  Wiping his face with a large grimy handkerchief, Percy thought back to the morning before, when the young girl, looking the living image of the woman lying upstairs, had come hammering on his back door. She had been every day, arriving only hours after her brother’s departure; and each time he had been forced to send her away. He was ashamed as he recollected the scene. The poor girl had been distraught, pleading with him to take her to her mother. Her distress had been so great that he had nearly capitulated, until the image of that one there had come to mind. When he had refused to budge, the girl had tried to force her way past him, threatening him with the police if he didn’t let her in. Beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead as he remembered her parting words. His years behind the bar had made him a good judge of character, and that young girl hadn’t been the sort to make empty threats. Neither was she the type to just give up and go away.

  He glanced nervously at the silent figure by the bed. Alex had seemed so concerned that first night, when he had agreed with Percy that Florrie would be better off staying the night to sleep the drink off. He had even taken the time to explain his relationship to Florrie, laughingly referring to her as ‘mum’. The following morning he had remained affable as he had asked Percy to let her stay another day, as it would be foolish to drag a sick woman from her bed into the cold morning air. But when he h
ad returned later that evening, his manner had changed. Gone had been the kindly, concerned son and in his place had materialised a hard, determined man who would brook no arguments, issuing orders left and right with the confidence of one used to being obeyed without question. A tougher man might have stood his ground and refused to be intimidated, but Percy Smith wasn’t such. Easily influenced by anyone with a stronger personality than his own, he had opted to take the line of least resistance and hope that matters would resolve themselves – and the sooner the better, he thought worriedly. That one was up to something. Exactly what, Percy didn’t know, but whatever it was he was certain it wasn’t in Florrie’s best interests. The scraping sound of the chair being pushed back brought his head up.

  ‘I’ve got to get off to work, but I’ll be back this evening. In the meantime, remember what I told you. She’s to have no visitors, is that perfectly clear?’

  Percy swallowed nervously, wondering if he should tell him about his sister’s threat to bring the police round, then decided against it, because as soon as Florrie woke up he intended to take her home himself, even if he had to carry her all the way. He’d had enough of being bullied, and if the man tried to start anything later this evening when he found out what Percy had done, well then, he wasn’t without friends to help him out, especially if he offered them enough free beer.

  Out on the landing, Alex pulled a cap from his back pocket and rammed it down over his head. He was dressed for work in dark, baggy trousers held up with braces over an off-white shirt and a shabby waistcoat. This was another aspect of the man that puzzled Percy. He had known many dockers in his time, but never one that spoke in a cultivated voice that would have been better suited to a city gent. He wondered how the man had lasted so long in the docks. Everyone knew the dockers were the roughest band of men in the East End who had little time for anyone outside their own class. Alex pushed by to get his heavy overcoat from the banister rail, and immediately Percy knew the answer. No one in their right mind would dare to gainsay a man like this one, not unless they wanted their face rearranged.

  They were half-way down the stairs when they heard a low moan. Alex stopped in mid-step, his head cocked towards the sound. He hesitated, pulling a silver-plated watch from his waistcoat pocket and shook his head in annoyance. Damn it! Why the hell had she to wake now?

  He’d be late for work if he dallied much longer, but he couldn’t afford not to. The last thing he wanted was to arrive home that evening and find his stepmother fully restored and waiting to confront him. He had told so many lies to his family that he couldn’t afford to allow Florrie to go home. Not now; not ever! With a muffled oath he bounded back up the stairs, almost knocking the bemused landlord down in his haste.

  ‘Alex!’ Florrie was sitting up in bed, her hair dank and tangled, the welcoming smile freezing on her lips when she saw who her visitor was. So it hadn’t been a dream after all. Buy why was he here? If anyone had come to see her it should have been William or Kate, but not Alex… Never Alex. Ashamed to be seen in such a sorry condition by one who would delight in her discomfort, Florrie lowered her gaze. Then, her courage returning, she lifted her chin defiantly. Her head ached, her stomach was sore and she had a foul taste in her mouth, but none of these miseries showed as she returned her stepson’s stare.

  ‘Hello, Florrie! I’m glad to see you back in the land of the living. You had me worried for a while!’

  Florrie frowned in puzzlement. What was he talking about? She’d only been one night away from home. ‘Morning, Florrie love. Betcha could do wiv a cuppa tea?’ Percy appeared behind Alex, his courage returning now he had an ally. Ignoring the deep scowl that Alex shot at him, he sidled past into the room. Bending over Florrie, he beamed down at her. ‘Gawd love us, Florrie, I was beginning ter think you’d never wake up properly! Now you just lie there while I go and get the kettle boiling. I’ll be back in a tick.’

  A growing uneasiness assailed Florrie. First Alex and now Percy, both talking as if she’d been here for weeks instead of one night. Afraid of hearing the answer but asking anyway, she caught hold of Percy’s arm.

  ‘How long have I been here, Percy? I mean, it was only last night, wasn’t it?’

  Percy beamed fondly. ‘More like three nights, love. You’ve only been outa that bed ter go ter the… well, you know. Anyways, you’re all right now, so you just rest a little while longer till you’ve ’ad yer tea.’ Tucking the bedclothes firmly around her, he said cheerfully. ‘I’ll leave yer with yer son so as yer can ’ave a chat. ’E’s been ’ere every day ter see ’ow yer was doing.’

  As he made to leave, he asked. ‘Would yer like a mug yerself, sir?’

  And Alex, his natural charm coming to the fore, smiled genially. ‘Thank you kindly, Mr Smith, that would be very welcome.’

  Whereupon Percy’s smile broadened. There you are, Percy me lad, he thought happily as he made his way down to the kitchen. You was right the first time. He is a nice gentleman. It was probably his concern for Florrie that had made him act like he had over the last few days. Worry could make people behave strangely.

  Finding herself at an uncomfortable disadvantage in her bedridden state, Florrie decided to make the best of a bad situation. Sitting up straighter, she arranged the rumpled bedclothes around her person as best she could, and in a voice that belied her weakened condition, asked, ‘What are you doing here? Where’s William?’

  Hearing the strength in Florrie’s voice, Alex was forced to think rapidly. He had expected her to be brought low after her sickness and the circumstances she had found herself in, but it was evident she had lost none of her spirit. Alex was no fool. He knew his stepmother could be a formidable adversary if challenged or threatened; he would have to tread carefully if his plans were to succeed. He had intended to take advantage of her weakness to browbeat her into doing what he told her, but he saw now that that avenue was closed. Undeterred, he ventured nearer the bed. There was still his second plan to be brought into play.

  ‘May I sit down?’ he asked, his whole bearing one of solicitude.

  Wary, but not alarmed, Florrie nodded.

  When he had settled himself, he took a deep breath and gazed at her with compassion, his next words soothing to her troubled mind.

  ‘Lord, Florrie, what has he brought you to?’ He shook his head sadly. ‘No, hear me out.’ He held out a hand as she made to speak. ‘Look, I’m not going to be a hypocrite and play the part of a loving son, because we both know how things stand between us, but I will say this. I know he’s my father, but I don’t know how you’ve put up with him all these years. And what he did… I mean with getting you pregnant, just so as you’d have to stay at home. Well… It was a despicable thing to do.’

  Florrie’s hands jerked in surprise. ‘I don’t think whatever happened between your father and me is any of your business, Alex…’

  ‘Please let me have my say, then you can decide what to do.’

  Florrie’s lips began to tremble. She really was in no fit state to be having this conversation. All she wanted was to get home and make her peace with her husband and children, but she had no option for the moment but to listen to what her stepson had to say.

  Satisfied that he would have no more interruptions, Alex continued, ‘Look, you can do better than sit at home all day at dad’s beck and call. Why, before you had Billy, you were in line for the position of manageress and there’s no reason why you can’t pick up where you left off, given half a chance. I mean, it’s not so bad now with the children still dependent on you, but what of the future, what of the time when they’re all gone? By the time Billy’s old enough to leave school you’ll still be in your prime, and dad will be an old man. Think about it, Florrie. Think about the years ahead with the children grown up and going their own way, and you stuck at home dependent on an old man you can’t stand the sight of. I was all set for leaving myself before you fell pregnant with Billy. I stayed only because I knew with your wages not coming in any more you’d
be struggling to make ends meet, but I can’t stay for ever. Now, like I said before, I know there’s no love lost between us, but I do sympathise and admire you for what you achieved before you were forced to give it all up. So here’s what I think you should do. Don’t go home, for a start. Once you do, he’ll play on your sympathy and you’ll never get away from him, you’ll be trapped for ever. I’ll have a word with Mr Smith, see if he’ll agree to let you stay on until you get on your feet again. In the meantime, you can try and pick up where you left off, build up your career again. You did it once – I’m sure you can do it again. And once you’re earning your own money, you can…’

  She came at him so fast he didn’t have time to duck the stinging slap on the side of his face. ‘What kind of an idiot do you take me for?’ Florrie had thrown back the covers and was kneeling on top of the rumpled bedding, her face contorted with rage. ‘Do you really imagine I would leave my children without a word, just on your say-so? Oh, don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to, Alex! You’ve wanted me out of the house for years.’ She laughed wildly. ‘It must have come as a godsend to you when I didn’t come home, and even more when you found I was incapable of leaving here. What story did you feed them at home? Well, Alex, what fabrication of the truth did you present to my family to explain my absence? You must have told them something, seeing as how you’ve known where I was these past three days, and William, ineffectual as he is, wouldn’t simply sit at home and do nothing. He would have been straight to the police when I wasn’t home by the following afternoon at the latest; unless someone had told him something to stop him searching for me. Well, Alex?’ she demanded fiercely. ‘You seem strangely tongue-tied for someone that had all the answers to my problems just a short while ago!’