Part 17 (1/2)

'Ain't seen him in ages. Anyhow, it ain't his,' Jenny croaked.

'Who's is it? Do you even know?'

'Yeah ... I know,' Jennifer said bitterly.

'Do you want me to have a quick look at you?' Kathy a.s.sessed her sister's thickening waist, guessing her to be about three months gone. 'Do you know when it's due?'

'No point in any of that ... I ain't keeping it. If you won't help get rid of it, I'll find someone who will. Soapy water syringe does the trick, I heard. Already tried pennyroyal and castor oil. They don't work any better'n the gin, so no need to suggest I dose meself with any o' that.'

'I wasn't going to,' Kathy said quietly. 'I was going to suggest you get yourself a decent man. Or a load of johnnies to keep by the bed.'

'That'd make life simple, wouldn't it?' Jenny jeered. She threw back her head, howling a laugh at the ceiling. 'Never get a s.h.i.+lling off none of them then. They'd all do up their flies and get going, including your-' She suddenly clammed up.

'Including my what?' Kathy demanded, again angry and impatient with Jennifer for getting herself into this new mess.

'Nuthin'. Need a bit of fresh air.'

Jennifer opened the back door and stepped out into a warm September afternoon.

'Got any tablets for me head?' she sent back over her shoulder.

'I didn't bring any with me.' Kathy felt like reminding Jennifer she'd just asked for her help, despite shouting at her to f.u.c.k off moments ago.

Kathy was aware of the various ways expectant mothers tried to bring on a miscarriage. Thankfully, no patient had ever asked her to end her pregnancy. Most women clammed up on abortion or contraception. They all seemed to have heard about Marie Stopes' Mothers' Clinics but very few would admit to having put a foot inside one, considering it shameful. The poor cows were desperate not to get pregnant, yet seemed to prefer their pills and potions to avoid the risk of another mouth to feed. It amazed Kathy that somehow or other they sc.r.a.ped together the cash to buy such quackery.

Few wives seemed able to persuade their husbands to use a rubber. As a last resort seeking a backstreet butcher seemed simpler than insisting that the man who'd promised to cherish them prove it in that small unselfish way. Kathy understood why Jennifer had mocked the idea of a stranger inconveniencing himself on her account.

'Come inside so we can talk and work out the best thing to do,' Kathy said calmly. 'I'll make some tea.'

'Don't fancy none ... it'll make me ill. It's too hot indoors ...'

Kathy knew her sister was choosing to stay outside in the back yard so there'd be no opportunity for them to discuss this new disaster. Neither of them would bring up such a delicate subject out in the open for fear of being overheard by neighbours.

'You might as well get going. I'm all right now,' Jenny said, leaning against the fence. She fumbled in her pocket, drawing out a half-smoked cigarette and some matches. Turning her back on Kathy, she lit up.

'If that's what you want,' Kathy answered as tobacco smoke drifted her way.

'Yeah ... it is ...' Jennifer said, without looking round.

The stink of vomit in the sink was overpowering Kathy. She knew her sister would probably expect her to clear the mess up before she left. Kathy avoided looking at the sink as she headed for the door. It was time her sister started clearing up after herself.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.

'Wouldn't mind a drink in the Red Lion for a change. Go on there, shall we, Charlie?' Blanche was directing a poisonous glare at somebody. The pub was crowded yet she was conscious that the chortling coming from an adjacent table was at her expense.

'I'm all right here,' Charlie answered blithely, upending his gla.s.s of ale. He knew why Blanche wanted to leave. She and Joyce Groves had been staring each other out from the moment the blonde sashayed into the pub with her brother, Kenny, and a few friends ten minutes ago.

Charlie wasn't bothered that Joyce didn't really fancy him and was only giving him the eye to make Blanche jealous. In his life he had never had so much female attention from good-looking women. Charlie was lapping it up and knew he'd got Blanche pinned beneath his thumb, desperate to keep him sweet. She'd do anything rather than let her rival think she'd got one over on her. Recently Blanche had been telling him no at the end of the evening when his hand travelled under her skirt. He could do without the expense of a room in a cheap hotel but Blanche had put her foot down at doing it against a wall in back alleys. Tonight, though, Charlie reckoned she'd be putty in his hands, whatever he suggested.

Blanche watched Charlie rock back in his chair so he had a better view of the noisy group close by. He winked, smiling lazily at the young woman pouting at him. Blanche gulped her gin and orange, pretending not to have noticed them flirting although she was seething mad.

Lately, she'd been reflecting on what her father and her husband had said about Charlie Potter. At the time, she'd shrugged off their warnings but now realised she'd been stupid to get involved with such a man. But it was too late for regrets. Getting back at the cow who'd turned Nick against her was more important to Blanche than anything else.

Blanche had been c.o.c.k-a-hoop when she heard on the grapevine that Nick had finished with Joyce. But the solicitor's letters kept coming, so it was obvious he'd not changed his mind about the divorce. Joyce was trying to rub it in that she could also s.n.a.t.c.h Charlie from Blanche if she wanted to. It was the reason Blanche had stubbornly decided to hang on to him at any cost, even though she feared he was more trouble than he was worth.

Before Joyce started making eyes at him, Blanche had hoped to ease herself away from Charlie by hinting he should spend more time with his wife and kids. There'd been no mistaking the dangerous glint in his eyes when he bawled at her to keep her snout out on that score. Blanche had limited her retaliation to being sworn at in public to a sulky look.

They'd been going out for months and during the early days he'd been on his best behaviour. Shortly after they'd started sleeping together, he'd made less of an effort to impress her in bed or in opening his wallet. But it was his propensity for violence that worried Blanche the most.

Last week a youth had b.u.mped into him in the pub, spilling his pint. Charlie had swung around and clumped him, despite the fellow's rapid apology. Blanche had been horrified that Charlie had lashed out so easily. She sensed it might only be a matter of time before she caught his fist.

No man had ever raised his hand to her. Her father had never physically chastised her although Gladys had often slapped her face for cheek. Neither Nick nor Wes had whacked her, despite quite vicious rows with both of them when things were coming to an end. Nick, especially, had had reason to fly off the handle over her cheating on him. But he'd chosen to walk away and, to Blanche's deep regret, he'd never looked back.

'Need a refill.' Blanche had again caught Charlie winking at Joyce. 'Unless you fancy an early night, do you?' A promise of s.e.x curbed her boyfriend's roving eye, as she knew it would.

'Bit short this week. Ain't got enough fer a room.' Charlie watched for her reaction.

'Got enough for another round?' Blanche sarcastically enquired.

'Yeah ... got enough fer that.' Charlie suddenly gripped her chin in a way that looked playful yet felt too rough for comfort. 'Same again, gel?'

'Nah ... can't be bothered now. I've had enough.' Blanche rubbed her fingers over her sore skin.

'How about we find somewhere a bit more private, then, if it's slap and tickle you're after?' He'd leaned forward, breathing alcoholic fumes on her face. 'I'm up for it, if you know what I mean,' He caught one of her hands and brought it to his groin, beneath the table.

'Ain't going down no dark alleys with you so don't bother asking,' Blanche said flatly, pulling her hand away.

'Back to yours, then, is it?' Charlie squeezed her knee, his calloused fingers catching the silk of her stockings as they climbed higher.

Blanche snorted a derisive laugh, tapping away his touch. 'I'm sure me mum 'n' dad would be pleased to see you.'

'Don't need to see us, do they, gel?' Charlie nuzzled her cheek, his first real show of affection since they'd met that evening. 'Got that shed out the back, ain't yer? Got a lock on it, has it, Blanche?'

Over Charlie's shoulder, Blanche noticed Joyce watching them. The idea of doing it in amongst her father's garden tools and pots was so revolting it almost made her burst out laughing, but she knew Charlie was deadly serious. And she knew she wanted to put one in the eye for Joyce.

'Me mum 'n' dad go to bed early most nights, so I suppose I might manage to get the key off the hook and meet you for a nightcap.' She felt ashamed of herself for having promised to bed down with Charlie just yards from where her parents slept. She knew now she'd agreed there'd be no going back ... he wouldn't let her. He was gulping back his drink in readiness to leave. Behind Charlie's head Blanche raised two fingers at her rival, then stood up with a flourish.

Charlie was grinning, yanking on his trousers and b.u.t.toning himself up. It was the first time he'd made Blanche pant and he was puffed up about it. Ordinarily, he didn't care much about what women liked, he just took what he wanted and if they happened to enjoy it, it was a bonus for them. Blanche was a bit more important because she'd be comparing him with two men who she thought were a better cla.s.s. Charlie knew that Nick and Wes also reckoned they were his superiors.

Charlie had never liked Raven and he was coming to resent Wes as well. His boss was expecting more work out of him for no more pay, and Charlie wasn't having it. That's why he'd brought in a couple of youngsters on a pittance to do a bit of dirty work for him. Davy was shaping up nicely at it, but his pal, Tom, seemed ready to weasel out when the going got rough. Davy was getting results: the lad had pushed a burning rag through the Butlers' letter box last week and told the draper a pint of petrol would shortly follow if he didn't pay up. Butler couldn't get the till open quickly enough for him after that ...

Charlie noticed Blanche trying to fish one of her shoes from under the workbench. Gallantly, he used a broom handle to knock it towards her.