Shades of Evil by Shirley Wells

place in her heart.
    Her firstborn, Toby, had been a demanding baby. Then Amy had come along and Ruth had never known two children fight more. They’d quarrelled from morning till night. When Louise, more delicate, had followed, things had settled down a little. All the same, Ruth’s hands had been full with the three of them and the last thing in the world she had wanted was another child.
    Steve had been a mistake and she’d panicked when she’d known she was carrying him, quite convinced that four children would have her locked away in the madhouse. Yet, from the moment he’d been born, his sunny nature and smiling face had captivated her.
    She’d thought there would be the obligatory tantrums when he was two or three, but no. Then she’d worried he would turn into the teenager from hell. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Steve hadn’t caused a moment’s anxiety all through his school years. He’d been average at his lessons, nothing more, but he’d been a laughing, happy boy who was always eager to please.
    How things change. Looking at him now as he hunched over the newspaper, she tried to remember the last time she’d seen him happy. Not for the last ten years. Nor the last twenty come to that.
    After school, instead of following the others to university, Steve had taken a job in a busy office. He’d been responsible for orders and deliveries, making sure bricks and timber were delivered on time. Then, because he soon knew the products inside out, and because he had a good way with people, he’d been invited to apply for a sales-man’s position. With an extra two thousand pounds a year and a company car on offer, he hadn’t thought twice about it.
    He’d kept that job until the company was taken over and several were made redundant. As far as Ruth remembered, he’d been out of work for less than a month and had walked straight into his last job. He’d seemed to enjoy it. A year ago, however, along with a lot of others in the industry, redundancy had claimed him again.
    ‘Anything interesting?’ she asked him as he turned the page.
    ‘Nothing I’m qualified for,’ he said. ‘And I expect they’d take one look at me and decide I was too old.’
    ‘Too old? At forty-seven? Nonsense!’
    The back door opened and Frank came in. He took off his thick coat, hung it on the back of the door, and rubbed his hands together.
    ‘They reckon more snow’s on its way, but it feels too cold.’ He gave Ruth a quick kiss.
    ‘What do you know then, Steve?’ he asked.
    ‘Not a lot, Dad. You?’
    ‘No more than that.’
    ‘Steve reckons he’s too old to get a decent job,’ Ruth said. ‘What nonsense is that?’
    ‘You can retrain, can’t you?’ Frank suggested.
    ‘As what?’
    ‘I don’t know. A plumber or a sparky. The country’s crying out for good tradesmen.’
    ‘Maybe. I don’t know. I do know I’ll have to do something soon, though. I can’t live off Alison for the rest of my days.’
    Ruth wondered if that’s why he seemed so distracted. Maybe he and Alison had argued about money. They wouldn’t be the first couple to do that.
    There was little said as they sat at the table to eat. Steve, like his dad, preferred to concentrate on his food rather than make conversation. Today, though, he was pushing potatoes round his plate.
    ‘Aren’t you hungry?’ Ruth asked him.
    ‘Sorry, Mum, I had a big chunk of cake before I got here.’
    She didn’t believe him. While Frank spoke of the weather and plans he had for the allotment, Steve, slowly but surely, cleared his plate. Ruth knew the effort it had taken, though.
    ‘I’ll help with the washing-up, Mum, and then I’ll be off,’ he said, rising to his feet.
    ‘Anything planned?’
    ‘My computer’s playing up. I updated some software and it hasn’t been right since. I need to sort that out.’
    Ruth had never owned a computer and never wanted to. She hadn’t a clue how they worked or what anyone would want one for,