Desperate Measures. Kitty Neale
woman, the china was fussy, the teapot covered with a hand-knitted cosy.
When the tea was poured, Val sighed, saying, ‘It’s been a lovely weekend but back to work tomorrow. It’s not a bad job, but my earnings are a fraction of what they used to be.’
‘Haven’t you always been a receptionist?’
‘No, Betty. At one time I had a flourishing career. I started off as a sales rep for a company supplying laboratory equipment. I gained promotions and eventually became the sales manager.’
‘Really? Goodness, that sounds exciting, but I know little about the commercial world.’
‘It’s amazing how far some women have come since the war ended. Now they have independence, with the opportunity to take up careers that were considered unsuitable for them before the conflict. Yet to gain promotion I’m sure that, like me, they had to fight every step of the way, to prove themselves as capable as men.’
‘Yes, but my daughter is always telling me that things are different now, that women have more opportunities.’
‘She’s probably right. Mind you, sometimes I wish I hadn’t concentrated so hard on a career. I missed out on marriage, on children, but I was ambitious. If I hadn’t been such a fool, if I hadn’t trusted a man …’ Val smiled sadly, leaving the sentence unfinished.
‘Why, what happened?’
‘It’s a long story and I don’t want to bore you.’
‘No, please, I’d love to hear about it.’
‘All right, then. As I said, I was ambitious, and made sure I kept up with current trends in the marketplace, worked hard to find sources of information. It was an exciting time, with new developments in equipment that would require no manual operation. This would be an enormous breakthrough for the industry and started with a titration device patented in America.’
‘Pardon? A what?’
‘Sorry, Betty, it’s all technical jargon – and no wonder you look bemused. I shouldn’t have blinded you with science, so come on, let’s talk about something else.’
‘No, do carry on. It’s just that I don’t know anything about laboratory equipment. You … you mentioned a man?’
Betty seemed eager to hear more, but Val wondered how far to go. She took a deep breath, deciding to expand a little. ‘Yes, there was a man, but he ruined my life. You see during my time as a sales rep, and occasionally as sales manager, I had to do a lot of travelling, sometimes staying overnight in hotels. As our equipment was for targeted markets, such as private laboratories, universities and hospitals, we sometimes came across reps from other companies. It was during an overnight stay that I met Mike Freeman. He was from another firm and it was just friendly rivalry at first, a bit of banter, but I have to admit I was attracted to him. We became involved, seeing each other at every opportunity. He was a sales manager too, with a team about the same size as mine, so it wasn’t always easy. We continued to meet as often as possible for the next eighteen months, but then …’ With a small shake of her head, Val’s sentence trailed off.
Betty leaned forward, softly urging, ‘Oh dear, what happened?’ As always, Val found it hard to talk about Mike Freeman, and hoped she had said enough to encourage Betty to open up too. ‘I … I’m sorry, Betty, it’s so painful, and even now just talking about it upsets me. Please, can we change the subject?’
Betty looked disappointed, but her tone was sympathetic. ‘You poor thing. Yes, talking about things can be painful and I know how you feel. Let’s have another cup of tea and do help yourself to biscuits.’
It boded well that Betty understood how she felt, and though Val wanted to ask more, she held back, hoping that Betty would elaborate on her situation.
She took a biscuit, but after Betty had poured two more cups of tea she said nothing further on the subject, instead saying, ‘I’m looking forward to going to that shop you told me about. You said they sell good-quality second-hand clothes. Where do they get them from?’
‘I’m not really sure, but I would imagine from women who want only the latest fashions. They’re dry-cleaned before going on sale, and though most are from last season, if you buy something classic, and maybe just dress it with beads or a scarf, it’ll carry you through for years.’
‘I’m not sure what you mean by classic, so would … would you help me to choose something?’ Betty asked, going slightly pink.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Oh, Val, thank you,’ said Betty, gratefully.
After that the conversation remained on clothes, designers, and the sort of style that Val thought would suit Betty.
Val then rose to leave, disappointed that Betty hadn’t confided in her any further, but she consoled herself with the thought that it was early days yet. ‘Thanks for the tea. I know we’re going shopping in a couple of weeks, but until then, if you aren’t busy in the evenings, you can always pop down to see me.’
‘I might just do that,’ Betty said, looking pleased at the invitation. ‘Or you can come up here to see me.’
‘Yes, all right,’ Val said. ‘Come on, Treacle, time for your dinner.’
The dog trotted to her side and, after saying goodbye to Betty, they returned downstairs. Val fed Treacle, and then curled on her sofa, feet tucked under her as she went over her plans – beginning with Paula. It would be risky, and she wasn’t sure the others would be willing to go along with her ideas, but they would need Betty to pull it off. Had she been hurt? So badly that she’d agree to join them? God, Val hoped so.
During the next couple of weeks, Val tried to concentrate on her work, but as usual found it boring. She saw Betty at least four times in the evenings but, worried that rushing things would frighten the woman off, no further confidences had been exchanged. Though they had little in common, they were becoming relaxed in each other’s company. Val appreciated Betty’s warm personality, her motherly nature and, obviously lonely, Betty always seemed so grateful to see her.
When Val started out, other than Paula, she hadn’t expected to grow attached to her recruits. She’d seen them as a means to an end, a way to bring closure – not just for Paula and herself, but for them too. Instead she found herself becoming emotionally involved, and that now included Betty too.
While trying to recruit Betty, she’d hadn’t seen much of Paula, but kept in telephone contact with both her and Cheryl. So far there was little to tell them, but after this trip to the second-hand shop, Val decided that over coffee she’d open up again. Surely it would work this time? Surely Betty felt confident enough now to confide in her?
She and Betty were searching the racks, but Val felt a wave of displeasure. Yes, the clothes were nice, of good quality, but nevertheless they weren’t new. At one time she had shopped only in the best outlets, her clothes all bearing designer labels, but because of Mike Freeman, look what she’d come down to. Her wages were low, her car an old wreck, and she was forced to dress in clothes that other women had discarded.
Val’s thoughts were cut off as Betty held up a busily flowered skirt, smiling with delight as she said, ‘I like this one, Val.’
‘Yes, it’s pretty, but maybe something that isn’t gathered so fully around the waist would be better. Something like this,’ she suggested, holding out a fawn, linen skirt that would skim the hips to gently flare out at the hem.
Betty looked doubtful. ‘Do you think so?’
‘Why don’t you try it on?’
‘All right, but I’ll try this one too,’ she said, taking both skirts to the changing room.
Val