.
be the same again.
A hymn was sung, a few words spoken by the vicar about a woman he had never met, and for Pearl it felt so little to mark the passing of someone who had lived on this earth for seventy-nine years. The curtains had drawn in front of the coffin, but there was a pause, as though they were all waiting for something else to happen, for something else to be said.
Pearl rose to her feet, dabbing her cheeks as she began to leave the pew, but then saw that Nora was still seated, blocking both John’s and her mother’s path. John bent over Nora speaking so softly that Pearl couldn’t hear what he said, but Nora at last stood up, her face wet with tears.
Once outside, Pearl saw that her mother had led Nora to the scant display of floral tributes, while John held back. She knew it wouldn’t be long before Nora would start looking for her, so took the opportunity to hurry to his side. ‘John, thank you for taking care of Nora. She’s still finding it hard to cope.’
He just shrugged then walked away, while Pearl felt a tug on her arm and turned to see Lucy Sanderson. ‘Oh, Lucy, Derek told me that you’d called to ask about the funeral arrangements. I’m so sorry, I should have let you know, but it completely slipped my mind.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ she said, biting her lip before adding, ‘Pearl, can I have a quick word with you?’
‘Yes, of course you can. We’re going to the Nag’s Head for a bite to eat and a drink if you’d like to join us?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t come and that’s why I need to talk to you before you leave. I know this isn’t really the time, or place, and I feel awful for bringing this up, but I’m desperate, Pearl. Do you by any chance know who I should talk to about my wages?’
The penny dropped and Pearl felt awful. She knew how hard things were for Lucy, but in the light of all that had happened she hadn’t given her a thought. ‘How much did Bessie owe you?’
‘Ten quid and without it I don’t know how I’m gonna pay my rent. I fobbed the landlord off last week with half, but I don’t think he’ll stand for it again.’
Pearl took her purse out of her bag, thankful to see that she had enough as she pulled out two five-pound notes. ‘Here,’ she said, holding them out.
Lucy shook her head vigorously. ‘No, no, Pearl, I can’t take your money.’
‘Yes you can,’ Pearl said as she stuffed the notes into Lucy’s hand. ‘Bessie has left me her shop, in fact the whole premises. I’m so sorry, I should have realised that you hadn’t been paid.’
‘That’s all right. I’m just relieved to get my wages.’
‘Pearl, it’s time we made our way to the Nag’s Head,’ Derek said as he came to their side. ‘Will you be joining us, Lucy?’
‘No, I’m afraid not, but Pearl, will you be opening the shop any time soon? If you are, and there’s a job going, will you keep me in mind?’
‘Yes, of course I will, but we can’t do anything until probate has been granted. As soon as I have any news, I’ll let you know.’
‘Thanks, Pearl. I’ll just have a quick word with Nora before I leave.’
Pearl had no idea how long it would be before she could open the shop, but as she watched Nora flinging her arms around Lucy, an idea began to form. One that as she thought about it, became more and more compelling.
John found that nothing about Battersea attracted him as he sat in the pub next to Derek, drinking a glass of lemonade. This was where he’d been born, yet he felt nothing but a desire to go back to Winchester.
‘Are you all right, son?’
John nodded and as he looked at Derek he wished he was his real father instead of Kevin Dolby. He hated that he’d been lied to, told that his real father had been sent to prison for robbery, when it had been so much more than that. He hated looking in the mirror now too, seeing a face that was almost identical to the one he’d seen in his gran’s photograph album. ‘Dad, can I ask you something?’
‘Of course you can.’
‘I know I look like him – Kevin – and we’ve got the same blood too. Does … does that mean that I’m capable of doing the things he did … terrible things?’
‘Other than looking a bit like him, believe me, you’re cut from a totally different cloth. You’re more like your mother, with a little of your Gran Emily thrown into the mix.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘John, I’ve known you since you were a baby and I’ve watched you grow up. You haven’t got a bad bone in your body and though I’m only your stepfather, I’m proud of you, son.’
John felt a well of emotions and if he hadn’t been nearly a teenager, he’d have reached out to grasp Derek’s hand. Instead he fought to choke back his feelings, his voice sounding gruff to his ears as he said, ‘Thanks, Dad, but there’s something else. I don’t want to see him. I never want to see him and I’m not going to Southsea again. He might turn up there.’
‘That’s going to upset Dolly and Bernie,’ Derek pointed out.
‘I know, and I’m sorry about that,’ John said, then blurted out, ‘I wish we could stay in Winchester.’
‘I know you do, son, but there really isn’t room for all of us in your gran’s house. Don’t worry though, she’ll have my guts for garters if I don’t drive you down there every weekend.’
‘I suppose you’re looking forward to moving back here.’
‘I can’t deny that. This is my home turf and the boxing club I used to manage isn’t far from here,’ Derek said with a hint of pride in his voice. ‘I know it’s nothing like Winchester, but it isn’t so bad. It’s not all built up, you know. There are lots of open spaces, walks by the Thames, and Battersea Park is close by, with a boating lake and lots of other things to explore. It’s also just a hop to Wimbledon Common. When I was a nipper we used to fish in the ponds, though I mostly netted newts. I used to bring them home in a jam jar, but my gran used to go potty and wouldn’t let me keep them. Blimey,’ he mused, ‘those were the days.’
John didn’t think a park or common could compete with living in the country, but at least it was something. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad, and at least Derek was going to take him home every weekend. John knew that Winchester would always be that to him – home. And when he was grown up, he’d go back there permanently.
John sipped his lemonade again, finding a measure of comfort in that thought.
That night, unable to get Adrianna out of his mind, Kevin was getting ready to go out. From the way she’d reacted when he tried to talk to her, he suspected that Adrianna was terrified of Vince, and that meant she might want to get away from him.
As he looked in the mirror, Kevin turned this way and that. He was pleased with his appearance, but now he’d bought new togs the money his father had given him was disappearing fast. Still, he thought, there was always Rupert.
Kevin had told his mother that he and Rupert were like-minded, inferred a religious connection, but that was far from the truth. Rupert had in fact been Kevin’s cellmate, an old poof who was inside for having sex with a fifteen-year-old boy.
Of course Rupert protested that he was innocent, that the boy had told him he was older, and that like others before him he was just after his money. It was a comment that had piqued Kevin’s interest. He decided that if his mother didn’t cough up some dosh when he got out, it would be handy to add another string to his bow until he was able to carry out his plan.
Unlike most of the other inmates, Kevin had found that when he was desperate with frustration, any port in a storm was better than nothing. Of course he preferred women, but some of the pretty, effeminate types of men that passed through had been passable substitutes.