Forgive Me Read online

  Eva looked up at him in shocked surprise.

  He smiled at her expression. ‘I have no idea now how much money that will be – she may have been drawing it out as fast as it went in – but we’ll see in a few days. Meanwhile, it would be prudent to say nothing of this to anyone.’

  ‘I won’t, Mr Bailey,’ she said. ‘I’m planning to leave home. In fact I am going to see a place after I leave here. I can’t stay at the house any longer, my stepfather is making me feel very unwelcome.’

  ‘I’m so sorry to hear that,’ Bailey said, looking at her with concern. ‘I’m afraid suicide always has far-reaching effects on families. Sometimes people act irrationally because they feel unable to grieve in the way they would if the loved one had died of natural causes.’

  ‘I think Andrew ought to remember that I am grieving too.’

  ‘Quite so. All things considered, I think moving out is the best thing for you. But you do understand that you won’t get either the property or the money immediately?’

  ‘Of course, I didn’t come here expecting that.’ She felt embarrassed now that he would think it was only the money she cared about. ‘I came just to find out the legal position and get some advice from you. I’m told it has to go through probate, and that can take months.’

  ‘Well, not in your case, Miss Patterson. You see, your mother took the precaution of putting the property in trust for you until you are twenty-one, which I understand is very soon. She also made sure any money in the building society account was payable to you on her death. But there are still papers to be drawn up and signed.’

  She nodded, wanting to know how long it would take, but afraid to ask.

  ‘I will make a start on that tomorrow,’ he said. He pushed his glasses further up his nose and looked at her gravely. ‘I see it as my duty to point out why your mother made these arrangements. She came to me initially because she wanted to make sure you had financial security which wasn’t dependent on her husband. She had concerns that if she had other children you might not all be treated equally. As it turned out, she was very astute, and she has made it possible for you to make a new start and to be independent. So you must use it wisely.’

  He paused, looking at Eva over his glasses.

  ‘Try to forgive your mother for not telling you the truth about your birth. Such things become more and more difficult the older a child becomes. And however hurt and let down you feel about it, and about her taking her own life, this legacy is proof of her love for you. She took special care and planned ahead for you.’

  Mr Bailey’s words were like soothing ointment on a sore place. Eva’s eyes filled up with emotional tears, and for the first time since her mother’s death she felt comforted.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I will remember that.’

  ‘Good.’ He smiled at her. ‘No fast cars, wild parties or other extravagant silliness. I have no idea how much the property is worth, but it is probably the only legacy you will ever get. Remember that, if you are tempted to fritter it away. And keep your own counsel about it. Sadly, there are a great many people in this life who will befriend you just for a slice of your inheritance.’

  Eva nodded in agreement. Olive had said much the same thing. She got up to leave. ‘I’ll ring you in a day or two and confirm my new address. Thank you for the advice.’

  Mr Bailey got up too and took her hand in his. ‘The clouds will roll away soon, my dear. You are young and you must look ahead and plan for your future,’ he said. ‘I’ll be in touch with you soon, but if you have any further questions or need any advice, just call me.’

  Chapter Five

  Eva sniffed back tears as she hauled two large bin liners stuffed with clothes and bedding out of her car. Number 44 Crail Road didn’t look any better in the early evening sunshine than it had when she’d viewed the room five days earlier under grey skies. But then she’d supposed few houses were ever going to look as nice as The Beeches.

  It must have been a smart address back in Victorian times, a tree-lined avenue of big semi-detached three-storey houses, each with a basement for the servants. But now most of the houses in the road were converted into flats, with front gardens paved over for parking, and they all exhibited a general lack of care.

  ‘It could be far worse,’ she murmured to herself. ‘And it’s not for ever.’

  As she struggled up the path between two scrubby areas of overgrown grass, a young man came bounding down the steps from the front door.

  ‘Hi! Moving in? Let me help you,’ he said and came forward to take the two bags from her hands.

  ‘Tod!’ she exclaimed, recognizing him as a temporary driver who had been taken on at Oakley and Smithson for the Christmas rush. All the girls at work had drooled over him, as he was both charming and handsome – mid-twenties, tall, slender with floppy fair hair and deep blue eyes. Eva had been as guilty as everyone else of fancying him like mad. ‘Do you live here too or are you just visiting? I’ve taken the room at the front on the ground floor.’

  He frowned as if trying to place her, then came a warm smile of recognition. ‘Oh yes, Eva! I always remember the pretty ones. Welcome to “The Ritz”. I’ve got one of the small hovels at the back. How much more stuff have you got?’

  ‘A suitcase, a TV and a few boxes,’ she said, blushing furiously at the compliment. ‘But I don’t want to impose on you if you’re going somewhere.’

  ‘I’m only going down the pub,’ he said. ‘And I can see you’ve been crying, so I’ll help you in and try to make you think you’ve found paradise.’

  ‘I got a bit teary saying goodbye. I’ve never been away from home before,’ she admitted, wishing she’d checked her face before she got out of the car. ‘It all feels a bit overwhelming. But I’ll be fine once I’ve settled in.’

  It took only a few minutes to get the rest of her belongings and dump them on the floor of her room. ‘It will soon look like home when you’ve put all your things around,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Girls are always good at that. I think home-making is inbred.’

  She had never had an opportunity to say more than a few words to him while he was at Oakley and Smithson, but she’d heard from the girls who went out of their way to talk to him that he made each of them feel like they were the most interesting person in the world. Eva was desperately in need of some kindness and sympathy and it was tempting to blurt out the reason she’d left home. But she stopped herself; she didn’t want to frighten him away. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ she said instead. ‘I’ve brought all the stuff with me.’

  ‘That’s an offer I won’t refuse. I haven’t got the nerve to invite you into my room because I left it like a tip. What made you leave home?’

  ‘I just thought it was time I became independent, and I wanted a bit more freedom.’

  The landlord had called it a studio apartment, but in reality it was just a bedsitter, with the kitchen part of the room divided off by a breakfast bar. There was a shower in a cupboard and she would share the lavatory with the other ground-floor tenants.

  Although it looked shabby and battered it did have all the basic equipment. And there was a new shiny kettle on the breakfast bar which was an addition since she’d viewed the room. Eva filled it up, and as she got out her bag of groceries she asked Tod where he was working now.

  ‘Care in the community,’ he replied and pulled a face.

  ‘Old people and stuff like that?’

  ‘Sort of. I drive the disabled or old people to hospital for appointments, but I also do a few shifts helping out vulnerable young people living in sheltered housing. You know the kind of thing.’

  Eva didn’t really, but she nodded anyway. ‘That’s a kind thing to do,’ she said.

  He shrugged. ‘I’m just gaining general experience. I want to be a counsellor.’

  ‘How interesting,’ she said.

  He laughed. ‘People always say that, then start telling me their problems.’

  ‘Well, I’m not going to. I don’t ha
ve any, except how to make this place a home.’

  ‘Then tell me the truth about why you’ve been crying?’

  There was a good reason for the girls at work drooling over him; aside from his lovely blue eyes and soft full mouth there was something very sexy about him. Part of it was that he obviously came from an upper-class background yet seemed very comfortable with and interested in ordinary people. At work he’d always been in company navy-blue overalls, but now in a worn T-shirt and ragged jeans, with untidy hair as if he’d just got out of bed, he looked even better.

  ‘Like I told you, just saying my goodbyes,’ she said. ‘My younger brother didn’t want me to go. I suppose I started to worry that I’d be lonely here.’

  ‘You won’t be.’ He smiled reassuringly at her. ‘This is a quiet night in here, not a sound because everyone’s out. But it gets quite rowdy and they are a nice bunch who all pitch in together. You might feel like moving on somewhere quieter in a few weeks.’

  The kettle boiled, she made the tea and opened a packet of biscuits.

  ‘Marks and Sparks biscuits!’ he exclaimed. ‘If it gets around that you buy those, you’ll never get a moment’s peace.’

  They chatted while they drank the tea – about ordinary stuff like their taste in music, clubs in Cheltenham, and preferred takeaways. He asked too about some of the people who worked in the packing department. He said he’d enjoyed working there, as it was always a good laugh.

  ‘Speaking of packing,’ he said with a laugh, ‘would you like some help with unpacking?’

  She wanted him to stay but sensed he was anxious to get to the pub. So she thanked him and said she’d rather do it alone.

  ‘Well, I won’t hold you up,’ he said, getting up off the sofa. ‘But I’m in number six, down the passage at the back, if you need help with anything tomorrow.’

  ‘You’ve been marvellous, thank you,’ she said, hardly daring to look into those blue eyes in case he sensed that she fancied him. ‘I think I’m going to like it here.’

  She watched him walk down the front garden, admiring his graceful lope and the suggestion of muscles under the shabby T-shirt. If he hadn’t been around, she thought she might have thrown herself on the sofa and sobbed for hours. But she wasn’t going to do that, however hurt and sad she felt. She must keep in mind that this was a new start, and make it work for her.

  Turning back to look at her room, she thought that it didn’t look quite so bleak now either. It was big, very light, and at least the walls were neutral, even if they were a bit grubby. The grey cord carpet was worn thin in places, but she could jolly it up with a rug. She pulled out the sofa bed and winced at how lumpy the mattress was, but she hadn’t expected it to be anything else.

  It would be fun to buy things to pretty the room up: a few pictures, a cloth on the small table, books on the shelves. And at least she had her own shower. Sophie had always hogged the one at home.

  As she started to unpack her clothes and hang them up in the wardrobe, she wondered what had been said after she left home this evening. She had told Andrew she was leaving two days ago. At the time he’d seemed indifferent, but tonight he’d been very nasty, saying things that cut her to the quick.

  He was standing at the door of the sitting room when she came downstairs with the first two bin liners of clothes. ‘How quickly the rats leave the sinking ship,’ he said in a sneering tone. ‘Just like your mother. She never appreciated all I did for her either. That car, for instance. I went to a great deal of trouble to get you that for your nineteenth birthday.’

  She was afraid he was going to take the car, and as she didn’t know where she stood legally, she felt she must be careful with him. But she couldn’t just ignore what he’d said; to do so would just be spineless.

  ‘I’m only leaving because you’ve made it impossible for me to stay,’ she said carefully. ‘I do appreciate you gave me a good childhood, and the car was a lovely present. But it’s a shame you had to spoil all that by informing me you weren’t my father practically the minute Mum was dead!’

  ‘I wouldn’t have had to if she’d told you herself,’ he snarled.

  Normally when he used that tone of voice with her she got frightened, but she was determined not to be intimidated by him. ‘Yes, she should’ve told me. But you let yourself down by telling me in the way you did. It was pure spite, and you know it.’

  ‘How dare you?’ he said, taking a threatening step towards her. ‘I fed and clothed you for years, paid for you to go to a good school.’

  ‘And I stupidly thought you did that because you loved me,’ she said, squaring up to him. ‘How wrong could I be?’ She flounced out to her car then, and stayed outside until he’d gone back into the sitting room.

  Andrew remained in the sitting room right up until she came downstairs with the last box. Then he appeared in the hall again.

  ‘I hope you haven’t taken anything that doesn’t belong to you,’ he said.

  ‘Of course I haven’t. Unless you count the Christmas presents you gave me?’

  ‘If I find you’ve been in my room and taken any of your mother’s jewellery, I’ll call the police,’ he warned her.

  She couldn’t believe he’d say such a thing. ‘Sophie’s the one who has been eyeing that up,’ she said icily. ‘You’d better check her room if you find anything missing.’

  ‘Don’t think you can just walk back in here when you get tired of fending for yourself,’ he spat at her. ‘You go, and that’s it.’

  Something snapped inside her. She put down the box and glared at him. ‘What would there be for me to come back for?’ she asked. ‘You’ve made your feelings about me quite plain since Mum died. Not one word of consolation, and no praise that I tried to keep everything together.’

  ‘Have you got any idea of what it felt like to arrive home here and find my wife had killed herself?’ he shouted at her.

  ‘Of course I have. I found her, remember? Lying in a bath of blood. Is finding your mother dead less traumatic than a wife? But I didn’t turn on you.’

  ‘It was you who drove her to it,’ he said, walking menacingly towards her, his handsome face suddenly twisted and ugly. ‘Truanting from school, hanging around with guttersnipes, dressing like some gothic tart, and taking drugs. All those times you stayed out and we hadn’t a clue where you were.’

  She became scared then, afraid he might hit her. But she had to stand her ground. ‘That was all over years ago, and you know it,’ she retorted. ‘I couldn’t keep up with my school work, and I was bullied too. I only ever smoked a bit of dope, nothing worse, almost everyone does that. I expect even your precious Sophie does. Maybe you ought to look to yourself to find out why Mum didn’t want to live any more.’

  She didn’t wait for his reaction to that, but picked up her last box and hurried out. She half expected him to come out after her, but he didn’t.

  Ben came running out just as she was starting up her car, and he looked really upset. ‘I heard all that,’ he admitted, leaning into her car window. ‘He’s been so mean to you, and he deserved what you said. But I’m not like him, Eva. You’re my sister, and I love you.’

  ‘Nothing will change between us,’ she said, reaching up and caressing his cheek. ‘You’ve got my address and work phone number, so ring me if you want to come round, you’ll be welcome any time. I love you too, Ben. But I won’t come back here, not ever.’

  As she drove down the drive for the last time, tears were pouring down her face. All her memories were here: leaving for her first day at school holding her mother’s hand, learning to ride a bike, and to swim. She’d pushed both Ben and Sophie around the garden in their prams, thinking they were real-life dolls. So many happy Christmases and birthdays. In barely a week’s time she would be twenty-one, and the only person that date meant anything to, other than her, was gone. Ben might keep in touch for a while, but once he got to university he’d forget about her. Sophie was probably eyeing up her old room even now, because it w
as bigger than hers. The only time she would give a thought to her elder sister was when Andrew expected her to iron his shirts and tidy up.

  ‘Don’t think about it any more,’ she murmured to herself now as she put her cassette player on the table, and plugged her television in.

  She would make new friends here, and she had the ones at work too. She could go where she wanted, be with whoever she wanted. She didn’t need anything from Andrew Patterson.

  A week later, on the 26th of April, a rap on the door quickly followed by Tod shouting out that it was ‘wine o’clock’ made Eva swiftly zip up her new dress and rush to open the door.

  ‘Gosh, you look gorgeous,’ he said, waving a bottle of wine at her. ‘Don’t let me down by telling me you’ve got a date.’

  It was an auspicious day for her. It was her twenty-first birthday, and this morning she’d received notification that the balance in the building society account her mother had used for the rent on the London studio had been transferred to her and she only had to go into the local branch to get her passbook. She’d gone there in her lunch hour to find there was £6,040 in the account.

  She couldn’t believe it was such a large sum. She had never expected to get anything more than a few hundred, and it was all she could do not to shout it from the rooftops.

  Mr Bailey had sent her a birthday card. With it was a letter explaining that the last tenant in the studio had left after not paying the rent for several months, and she should be prepared to find the place in a bad state. He had added that if she decided to sell it, he would be glad to do the legal work for her.