Part 17 (1/2)

The rest of the week was difficult for Susan. She'd telephoned Karen early the morning after Louise's arrival to ask if she and Simon had made up their quarrel and come to any kind of compromise.

'No, we haven't,' Karen snapped. 'Simon is adamant that I turn down the job and stay at home with Peter until he's five. That's another two whole years of sheer drudgery and boredom. If it wasn't for Louise, we'd still have Adrey and I'd still be teaching. And if you hadn't been so careless and stupid yesterday, I'd have been home long before Simon and I'd have dealt with things in the way I'd planned.'

'Please don't speak to me like that, Karen. I am neither stupid nor careless and if you want to know, I think it's a mistake, going behind Simon's back like that.'

'Well, when I want your opinion, Mum, I'll ask for it and I'm sorry but I'm afraid I do think you're careless, putting Peter in danger like that. And as for letting Louise come and stay again after all she's done well, words fail me!'

'I think there have been times when you've been quite happy to forget my so-called careless stupidity,' Susan said.

'Yes? Well, thanks for rubbing it in! You can safely believe that those days are over,' Karen snapped. 'I won't be asking for your help any more!' And there was an ear-splitting crash as she slammed the receiver down.

She'd only just replaced the receiver when the phone rang. It was Simon.

'Susan I'm ringing to apologize for the scene I made at your flat yesterday.'

'It's all right, Simon. I understand. You were upset and I do sympathize with both of you.'

'That's your trouble, Susan,' he replied. 'You're far too understanding. But as I said, I'm sorry. I just lost it and I shouldn't have said what I did.'

'Well, as you've brought the subject up, Simon, you didn't mind leaving Peter with me while you and Karen went to Paris.'

'No, I know and I'm deeply ashamed of letting my temper get the better of me.' There was a pause then he said, 'Look, Susan, don't think I'm interfering but you really shouldn't have allowed Louise back after what happened last time. She is at the root of all this mess we're in now.'

'I know but I couldn't see her without a roof to her head, could I?'

'Well, it's your decision, of course. Anyway, I'm sure you know that I didn't mean any of those things I said and I hope you'll accept my apology.'

'Of course, it's already forgotten. Thank you for ringing, Simon.' She put down the phone with a heavy heart. She'd tried to please everybody and finished up pleasing no one and landing herself in the middle of a row.

In the days that followed, Karen would have nothing to do with her. Every time Susan tried to ring her she'd refused to pick up. As for Louise, she was as untidy and disorganized as ever. Susan gave up trying to tidy up or do any housework. She was a little disturbed by the nightmares that Louise obviously had. On several occasions, she had been awakened in the early hours by her stepdaughter's loud sleep-talking. She wondered if it had anything to do with her broken romance, which she'd already guessed had upset Louise more than she would admit. She'd had a lot of calls on her mobile during the week, but she hadn't taken any of them. Had they been from the disloyal boyfriend? she wondered. Clearly she was upset about something.

It was the night before Louise's visit was over and she and Susan were sitting together in the living room, when Louise suddenly turned to her stepmother. 'Susan there's something I need to tell you.'

'Yes, dear?' Susan looked up from the little sweater she was knitting for Peter. 'What's that?'

'I found my mother.'

Susan's gla.s.ses slipped to the end of her nose as she looked up in surprise. 'You found her how?'

'The Salvation Army found her for me actually. They arranged a meeting and we met for tea at one of the big stores in London. She told me that she'd married again after she and Dad split up and they had another child; a boy well, man now. He's called Steven.'

'So you have a half-brother. That's interesting. Is she happy?'

'No. Her husband was is a criminal. He's in prison and she's divorced him. I was disappointed, Susan. Frankly, I didn't like her. I didn't like her son either. He telephoned me and I found his manner quite nasty almost menacing.'

Susan dropped the knitting into her lap and took off her gla.s.ses. 'Oh, Louise!'

'The trouble is that I told her too much. She asked about Dad and when she knew he'd died, she wanted to know what was in his will.'

'And you told her?'

'I got a bit carried away at seeing her again after all the years.' She hesitated. 'I told her about the play too and my big breakthrough. She obviously got the impression that I'm rolling in cash because before we parted, she asked me for money.'

'Oh dear. I'm afraid you've rushed things a bit too much.'

'You can say that again! The thing is, will she let it go at that or is she going to be constantly on my case? What can I do?'

Susan considered for a moment. Privately, she wondered if all that had been the cause of Louise's troubled dreams. 'Well, you'll be away on tour for some time, won't you? After that, maybe she'll have forgotten.'

Louise sighed. If only it were as simple as that. Susan didn't know the half of it. And because she'd been economical with the truth, she couldn't press it any further.

She left the following morning. Susan saw her off gratefully, longing to get her hands on the hoover and dusters. How could one person make such a shambles of the place?

'Don't forget that I intend to be there on your opening night,' she called as Louise ran down to her waiting taxi. 'I'm going to try to persuade Karen to come too, but I'll be there even if she isn't. Good luck, Louise!'

'Thanks, Susan. Goodbye and thanks for having me.' Louise forced a smile that vanished as soon as she climbed into the taxi. They'd all have to know about her catastrophe before too long and how would she face them all then?

'Where to, missus?' the taxi driver enquired.

She sighed, recognizing that she didn't even qualify for 'miss' any more.

'To the train station, please,' she told him.

She settled back in her seat. Back to a grotty bedsit in the East End, she reminded herself with a sigh. Back to G.o.d only knew what!

Chapter Twenty-One.

The bedsit under the eaves looked more depressing than ever after the cosiness of Susan's flat. The weather had suddenly warmed up and when I unlocked the door, the stuffiness and odours left by the previous tenant hit me like a wave; a mixture of stale sweat, unwashed clothes and several dozen takeaway meals. By the stench that still hung about the room like a fog, most of them had been curries. I hurriedly crossed the room and threw the window open wide, making a mental note to buy a can of air freshener next time I went to the shops.

It was only when I turned back to close the door that I saw the note that had obviously been pushed under the door. I slipped a finger under the envelope flap and pulled out a single sheet of lined paper, obviously torn from a cheap notebook. My heart plummeted. It clearly wasn't from Mark, not that I expected it, after refusing all his calls. He'd surely have to give up soon.

There was no address on the note and the handwriting was barely readable. The spelling was atrocious too but the message was only too plain.

Deer Louise. Sorry you an me coodnt meet up. Yor landlord sais you are c.u.min bak so Ill giv you a bell soon. Yor luvvin bruther, Steve.

I ran downstairs and tapped on the landlord's door. He answered it looking as though he'd only just got up. He wore jeans and a grubby singlet and his greasy hair was tied back in a ponytail. He blinked at me blearily. 'Yeah?'

I held out the envelope. 'How did this come to be pushed under my door?' I asked him. 'I've been away so how did he manage to get in?'

He peered at the envelope. 'Oh, yeah,' he said. 'That was a couple of days ago. When he couldn't get you, he rang my bell and asked me to give you that.'

'Right. Well, if he turns up here again don't let him in, OK?' How on earth had he found out where I lived? My stomach lurched with apprehension as I turned back towards the staircase.

'That's all right,' he called after me. 'Don't thank me, will you. I'm not your bleedin' butler snotty cow!'

I carried on up the stairs without a backward glance. What did he do for the rent he charged anyway?