Betty’s arms again to light yet another cigarette, her fingers stained brown from heavy smoking. When Paula finally stubbed it out, she stood up.
‘I’m sorry, Val, but I don’t like being out in the evenings and I’ve got a splitting headache.’
‘Paula, I’ve got some aspirin. There’s no need to leave yet. It won’t be dark for ages and when you want to go I’ll give you a lift home.’
Betty then rose to her feet, her smile soft and kind as she spoke to Paula. ‘If you’ve got a headache, I think you need a bit of peace and quiet. I’ll leave, but if you ever need anything…’ Her voice trailed off.
‘Fanks, Betty, and it was nice to meet you. I…I’m sorry I broke down.’
‘Oh, sweetheart, there’s no need to apologise.’
As Betty moved to the door, Val followed, saying quietly, ‘You don’t have to leave.’
‘I know, but I think it’s for the best. Bye, and I’ll see you soon.’
When Val closed the door she turned to Paula. ‘I’m so sorry. I should have realised that talking about it would be too much for you.’
‘It…it’s like reliving it all over again, but other than this rotten headache I’m all right now. I like Betty, she’s nice.’
Val nodded in agreement. Yes, Betty was nice and had been so sympathetic, but would she understand what they wanted to do–and why? Not only that, unless she too had been badly hurt by more than a divorce settlement, Val still wasn’t sure that she’d want to join them. Once again she felt a surge of impatience. How much longer was this going to take? Would she have to drop Betty? Oh, she hoped not.
Chapter Seven
On Sunday morning, Betty was thinking about Paula. She had been sickened by what she’d heard, her heart going out to the poor girl. Paula was a lot younger than her own daughter, with none of Anne’s self–assurance. She was so tiny, only just over five feet tall, with dull blonde hair and baby blue eyes. Her clothes were dowdy, her face bare of make–up, hiding the fact, Betty was sure, that Paula was actually a pretty young woman.
When there was a knock on her door she hurried to open it, delighted to see her daughter. ‘Anne, how lovely to see you–and on a Sunday for a change. Did you have a nice holiday? And what happened to my postcard? You’ve been back a week but it still hasn’t arrived.’
‘Hello, Mum. Sorry about the postcard, but I didn’t get a chance to send any. Mel was taken ill and Dad was worried about her.’
‘You didn’t tell me that your father and Mel were going with you.’
‘Didn’t I?’
Betty was about to retort when there was another knock on the door. She opened it, her face lighting with joy. It had been so long since she had seen her son and his last visit had been to her previous flat. ‘John, how wonderful to see you!’
‘Hello, Mum,’ he said, before leaning forward to kiss her swiftly on the cheek.
Betty stood aside to let him in, her voice high with excitement. ‘Look, Anne, it’s John.’
‘Hello, sis,’ he said. ‘Mum told me you were going on holiday. Did you have a good time?’
‘Yes, we had a week in Spain with Dad and Mel.’
Betty was pleased to see John’s lips curling in derision, since she felt the same, but if they started to argue they’d leave and she didn’t want that. ‘It’s marvellous that you’ve both turned up at the same time. Come on, now; don’t stand there like a pair of combatants. Sit down and I’ll get you something to drink.’
Anne flopped onto the sofa, whilst John took a chair, and as she hurried to the kitchenette, Betty could hear Anne talking to her brother.
‘I’m glad you’re here. I’ve got a bit of news and this way I can kill two birds with one stone.’
Wondering what this news could be, Betty hurriedly opened her small fridge, only to shake her head with annoyance. With so many other things on her mind she had forgotten to get any Cokes, and now could only offer Anne orange juice. She poured two
‘I’m sorry, Val, but I don’t like being out in the evenings and I’ve got a splitting headache.’
‘Paula, I’ve got some aspirin. There’s no need to leave yet. It won’t be dark for ages and when you want to go I’ll give you a lift home.’
Betty then rose to her feet, her smile soft and kind as she spoke to Paula. ‘If you’ve got a headache, I think you need a bit of peace and quiet. I’ll leave, but if you ever need anything…’ Her voice trailed off.
‘Fanks, Betty, and it was nice to meet you. I…I’m sorry I broke down.’
‘Oh, sweetheart, there’s no need to apologise.’
As Betty moved to the door, Val followed, saying quietly, ‘You don’t have to leave.’
‘I know, but I think it’s for the best. Bye, and I’ll see you soon.’
When Val closed the door she turned to Paula. ‘I’m so sorry. I should have realised that talking about it would be too much for you.’
‘It…it’s like reliving it all over again, but other than this rotten headache I’m all right now. I like Betty, she’s nice.’
Val nodded in agreement. Yes, Betty was nice and had been so sympathetic, but would she understand what they wanted to do–and why? Not only that, unless she too had been badly hurt by more than a divorce settlement, Val still wasn’t sure that she’d want to join them. Once again she felt a surge of impatience. How much longer was this going to take? Would she have to drop Betty? Oh, she hoped not.
Chapter Seven
On Sunday morning, Betty was thinking about Paula. She had been sickened by what she’d heard, her heart going out to the poor girl. Paula was a lot younger than her own daughter, with none of Anne’s self–assurance. She was so tiny, only just over five feet tall, with dull blonde hair and baby blue eyes. Her clothes were dowdy, her face bare of make–up, hiding the fact, Betty was sure, that Paula was actually a pretty young woman.
When there was a knock on her door she hurried to open it, delighted to see her daughter. ‘Anne, how lovely to see you–and on a Sunday for a change. Did you have a nice holiday? And what happened to my postcard? You’ve been back a week but it still hasn’t arrived.’
‘Hello, Mum. Sorry about the postcard, but I didn’t get a chance to send any. Mel was taken ill and Dad was worried about her.’
‘You didn’t tell me that your father and Mel were going with you.’
‘Didn’t I?’
Betty was about to retort when there was another knock on the door. She opened it, her face lighting with joy. It had been so long since she had seen her son and his last visit had been to her previous flat. ‘John, how wonderful to see you!’
‘Hello, Mum,’ he said, before leaning forward to kiss her swiftly on the cheek.
Betty stood aside to let him in, her voice high with excitement. ‘Look, Anne, it’s John.’
‘Hello, sis,’ he said. ‘Mum told me you were going on holiday. Did you have a good time?’
‘Yes, we had a week in Spain with Dad and Mel.’
Betty was pleased to see John’s lips curling in derision, since she felt the same, but if they started to argue they’d leave and she didn’t want that. ‘It’s marvellous that you’ve both turned up at the same time. Come on, now; don’t stand there like a pair of combatants. Sit down and I’ll get you something to drink.’
Anne flopped onto the sofa, whilst John took a chair, and as she hurried to the kitchenette, Betty could hear Anne talking to her brother.
‘I’m glad you’re here. I’ve got a bit of news and this way I can kill two birds with one stone.’
Wondering what this news could be, Betty hurriedly opened her small fridge, only to shake her head with annoyance. With so many other things on her mind she had forgotten to get any Cokes, and now could only offer Anne orange juice. She poured two
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