Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection. Josephine Cox

A horrid thought occurred to her. ‘My God! He didn’t …’ She glared at her husband, ‘You didn’t …?’

      Seeming demure, Maggie looked down, ‘No, he didn’t. But he would have if you hadn’t come in.’ Clutching the money in one hand, she dabbed at her eyes with the other and pretended to cry. ‘You don’t know how glad I was to see you.’ Out of the corner of her eye she saw the accused cowering by the door, muttering to himself and glaring at her with such malice she had to catch her breath. ‘I was so frightened.’

      ‘All right, dear.’ The woman helped fasten her blouse. ‘Look, you go away and don’t say anything. I’ll deal with him!’

      With several weeks’ wages in her pocket, the notes in her hands and a smile on her face, Maggie took her leave.

      Outside she could hear the shouting and arguing, and laughed out loud. ‘That’ll teach you to sack me, you old bugger!’

      She flagged down a taxi. ‘Take me to Sooty’s club,’ she told the driver, ‘I’m celebrating.’ And why not? she thought. She had more money than she’d had for ages, and plenty of time on her hands. What’s more, she had cause to celebrate.

      The taxi-driver laughed. ‘Come into money, ’ave yer?’

      Maggie trusted nobody. ‘No, not really,’ she answered cagily, ‘I’ve just finished work.’

      ‘I can see that.’ He had picked her up outside the picture-house and seen her uniform. ‘That’s an usherette’s uniform you’re wearing, ain’t it?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Like your job, do yer?’

      ‘It’s all right,’ Maggie chuckled, ‘but I should have been an actress.’

      As they drove on, she thought of Kathy. ‘Watch out, gal!’ she muttered. ‘I’m on my way.’

      Samantha was hopping mad. ‘Don’t you understand? I’ve got nothing! My house has gone and I’ve no job.’

      ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Martin, but, as I see it, you have no call on your sister’s house. According to the will, and what you’ve already told me, the house was bought in her name and passes to your sister without condition. On your mother’s marriage to Mr Lennox, you were given the family home, also without condition. This house was debt-free and, as you yourself said, in excellent condition. The fact that you lost it does not in the eyes of the law give you the right to a share of your sister’s property.’

      ‘What kind of solicitor are you?’ Samantha was vitriolic in defeat. ‘It was my mother who gave me the house. My father left me nothing. I’m destitute. I’m having to live in rented property again. I have debts that need paying, and there are no decent jobs to be had. My mother’s got herself in a situation where she can’t help, and the only way out is for me to take back from Kathy what should have been mine in the first place. After all, I am the eldest. I should have been left the house, not her.’

      ‘Not necessarily. Being the eldest does not automatically make you the heir. In any case, your father bought the house in your sister’s name. I’m afraid I can see no way round it.’

      ‘You must be able to do something! Bring her to court. Make her sell the house and give me half the proceeds. Christ Almighty, I would have thought it was simple enough!’ Springing out of her chair, she banged her fist on the desk. ‘If you won’t do it, I’ll find someone who will.’

      Getting slowly out of his seat, the solicitor stood up, his face twitching with anger as he told her calmly, ‘That’s entirely up to you. But, as far as I’m concerned, you have no case.’ He thought she was the most selfish, spiteful and bone-idle creature that ever crossed his threshold. ‘But you do have choices … three, in fact.’

      Samantha’s eyes lit up. ‘Well, now we’re talking. And what are they, might I ask?’

      ‘Well, you could get another job and work your way out of trouble. You might think about getting married … to someone who can satisfy your taste for expensive things.’ Her exquisitely tailored clothes and the diamond ring on her right hand had not gone unnoticed. ‘Or, you could go to your sister and beg her to help … if, of course, she is in a position to do so, and if she has a mind to help someone who is so obviously out to ruin her.’

      While the unpalatable ‘choices’ were spelled out for her, Samantha’s hands clenched and unclenched. Now, as she spoke, her voice shook with rage. ‘How dare you? I could report you for speaking to me like that.’

      Quite unconcerned, he smiled. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘I am merely expressing the choices you have, as I see them.’

      Straightening up, she took a long, noisy breath through her nostrils. Staring at him with murder in her eyes, she threatened, ‘My stepfather is a powerful, influential man. I shall tell him how you treated me, and you may be sure he will be in touch! Moreover, I shall make certain my friends are warned about you.’

      Unmoved, he returned the copy of her father’s will. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help,’ he said, then showed her the door. Head high, she marched out, threatening hell and damnation as she went.

      Shaking his head, he closed the door and returned to his work.

      He’d had them all in this office at some time or another: the evil and the gullible, and those who were really in need of help. But this one was unique. A woman who was able enough to work but chose not to, who had squandered her own inheritance and who, without compunction, was prepared to rob her sister of her home, had to be amongst the worst.

      Going to the window, he flung it open, as though needing to rid the room of her presence.

      In Bridport, Kathy made straight for the café and Mabel.

      Seeing the older woman at the far end of the room, Kathy gave a quick wave and, smiling, Mabel hurried down to be with her. ‘It’s good to see you,’ she said. ‘I’ll be finished in a minute or two, then you can walk me home and stay for a cup of tea. We’ve not been so busy today, and I’ve had very little company.’

      Patting Kathy’s arm affectionately, she added, ‘Besides, we hardly ever get time to talk properly, do we, dear?’ Kathy had to agree.

      A short time later, arm in arm, the two of them strolled down the street, Mabel setting the pace, and Kathy content to chat as they walked. ‘Will your husband be in?’ She had visions of that ugly lout waiting for them as they entered the house.

      Mabel shook her head. ‘He’s off down the pub with his cronies,’ she answered. ‘Come Friday, he can’t wait to pack up and get away.’

      Sensing the sadness underlying Mabel’s words, Kathy merely nodded. And no more was said on the matter.

      The cottage was spotless; every nook and cranny scrubbed and shining, and each ornament polished until you could see your face in it. ‘This is such a pretty place, Mabel!’ Kathy thought it enchanting.

      Peeking out the back window, she observed the same loving care and attention to detail: the tin bath hanging neatly on its hook, the flagstones washed clean, and the pegs on the line all lined up like little wooden soldiers. Even the brick walls were washed white.

      Mabel was flattered. ‘I like to potter about,’ she answered. ‘If I had more spare time, I’d have it looking even nicer.’ Going into the scullery, she put the kettle on to boil. ‘And how are you, my dear?’ she called out. ‘Settling in all right now, are you?’

      ‘I’m doing fine,’ Kathy answered, but did not sound very convincing.

      Returning with the tray, Mabel set it down on the table. ‘What’s wrong?’ Pouring them each a cup of tea, she handed Kathy hers and sat opposite on the big armchair. ‘Family, is it?’ she asked. In her experience it was always family that caused the worries.

      ‘I