Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection. Josephine Cox

      ‘I’m not sure, but I imagine it’s to do with Mother’s personal disappointments.’ Kathy had often thought about it and this was the only answer she had come up with. ‘I reckon Mother only wanted one child, a beautiful creature much like herself … someone people would pause in the streets to look at, and gasp with admiration.’

      ‘I see. And that was Samantha, was it?’

      Kathy nodded. ‘Then I came along … an accident, no doubt; plain and noisy with chubby legs and unruly hair. I spoiled all her ideas of being special, and having that one very cherished, magnificent child.’

      Mabel was having none of it. ‘You’re certainly not “plain”, or “noisy”. You’re a very pretty young woman with a beautiful nature.’

      Kathy smiled naughtily. ‘And chubby legs.’

      Mabel returned her smile. ‘We can’t all be perfect, but there are worse things than a sturdy pair of legs, my dear!’

      Kathy satisfied Mabel’s curiosity about Samantha, and in the telling, Kathy began to feel less disillusioned about the situation between herself, her mother and Samantha, though she knew things would never change. ‘It’s too late for all that,’ she told Mabel. ‘Mother gets worse as she gets older. She’s one of those people who are never satisfied with what life gives them. She yearns for glamour and excitement … all the things she never quite seemed to acquire. You see, she married my father, a quiet, hard-working man who worked long hours to provide her with a lovely house and expensive clothes and other luxuries she may never have enjoyed. When Father was lost to us, she seemed to grow more arrogant and domineering. There was no living with her.’

      Mabel could see the regret in Kathy’s troubled eyes. ‘You loved your father very much, didn’t you, my dear?’

      Kathy nodded. ‘He was a very special man … he loved me for what I am, not for what I might have been. As for Mother, I can’t remember a time when she put her arms around me with affection, or told me she loved me, or held my hand as we crossed the road.’ Her voice broke. ‘Do you know, Mabel, there were times when I thought she’d be happier if I’d never been born.’

      ‘Oh, I’m sure that’s not true, my dear. No mother could ever wish that.’

      It did Kathy’s heart good to talk with this sweet, kind old dear, who was more of a mother to her then her own had ever been.

      When it was time to leave, she wrapped her arms around Mabel and held on to her for what seemed an age. ‘You’re a lovely lady, Mabel,’ she told her, and Mabel’s heart went out to her.

      ‘I’m here whenever you want me,’ she reminded Kathy. ‘Don’t ever forget that, my dear.’

      On the bus home, Kathy recalled the old woman’s words. She was more content now than she had been in a long time. After all the niggling doubts, she was really happy with her new life.

      ‘I’m sorry, my dear, but you know how things are.’ Irene had her own troubles. ‘I’d like to help you, but it’s not possible.’ Pouring herself another drink, she poured one for Samantha, too. ‘He puts only the tiniest amount into my account; just enough for basic necessities. I have to ask him for every little thing, and even then he wants receipts.’ Gulping down her drink, she was close to tears. ‘He’s moved into the spare room … though I don’t mind that, but he treats me like a stranger. It’s just awful!

      ‘I haven’t finished yet, though.’ She grinned – a wonky, half-drunken gesture that distorted her face. ‘I’ve been thinking. If you were to help me, I could be rid of him.’ Her secretive expression told it all.

      Samantha couldn’t believe her ears. ‘You’re drunk!’

      ‘Oh no I’m not.’ Sidling up to her, Irene lowered her voice to a harsh whisper, at the same time glancing at the door to make sure he wasn’t hiding there like last time. ‘I’ve thought of a way to finish him off.’ She giggled. ‘Then we can both enjoy his money.’

      Samantha thought her mother was losing her mind. ‘I might have been persuaded,’ she confessed, ‘but you seem to have forgotten one thing.’

      ‘What’s that?’

      ‘He’s cut you out of his will, hasn’t he?’

      Irene was taken aback. Unsteady on her feet, she fell into the nearest chair, eyes glazed over after hours of steadily knocking back the booze. ‘The bastard! You’re right, I forgot about that.’ She forgot most things these days.

      Samantha stared at her with loathing. ‘Look at you! What good are you? I came here for help and find you drunk!’ She began to shout. ‘You’re always bloody drunk lately.’

      Irene laughed. ‘You should try it, dear. It helps to pass the time of day.’

      Samantha was in no mood for this. ‘You disgust me!’

      ‘Don’t be like that, my dear.’ Sitting up in the chair, she focused her gaze on this wayward, beloved daughter of hers. ‘Look, dear. You do what the solicitor said … go to your sister and tell her how things are. You know how soft she is … I’m sure she wouldn’t turn you away.’

      She giggled. ‘You might even find yourself a rich old man down at the seaside … that’s where they usually retire to, isn’t it?’ Throwing her arms about, she laughed insanely. ‘Perhaps I should come with you.’

      ‘Who would want you? You’re becoming an old slag,’ Samantha warned. ‘If you’re not careful, you’ll be the next one out on the street!’

      Slamming out of the house, she left her mother in tears. Yet, as she walked down the street to the bus stop, she thought on what her mother had said. Her sulky mouth turned up in a devious little smile. ‘You could be right, Mother,’ she murmured. ‘Maybe it’s time I paid my little sister a visit.’

      But that would take money. ‘I need a whole new wardrobe, and money in my pocket,’ she mused. ‘I might have to think of a way to earn some money fast.’ Just then a man walked by and winked, obviously making a play for her.

      Though she rebuffed him, it triggered an idea in her mind.

      She smiled to herself. ‘Hmh! If the end justifies the means, I’m sure it wouldn’t be too much of a hardship.’

       Chapter 11

      JUST AS THE postman was about to drop the mail through the letterbox, Jasper opened the door and saved him the trouble. ‘Morning, Ted,’ he yawned. ‘What you got for me then?’

      Thinking Jasper looked a right sketch in his old, worn pyjamas with his hair stood up on end, the postman turned the letter over in his hand. Squinting at the postmark, he told Jasper, ‘It’s from Buckinghamshire.’

      ‘Can’t be for me then,’ Jasper remarked. ‘I don’t know anybody who lives in Buckinghamshire.’

      ‘Well, it’s addressed to you.’ The postman checked the address. ‘There you are, it’s for you all right.’ He handed the letter over. ‘Looks like a woman’s writing.’ He laughed. ‘A woman from your past who’s tracked you down.’

      Jasper shoved the letter in his pocket. ‘If they’re after me money, they’ll be disappointed ’cause I ain’t got none.’ He collected his milk and stepped back into the passage. ‘Come in, Ted. I’ve just this minute put the kettle on.’

      ‘Can’t.’ Heaving his heavy sack onto his shoulders, Ted apologised. ‘Any other time I’d be glad to, but not today. There’s a union meeting at twelve. I daren’t be late for that.’

      Jasper knew all about these union meetings. ‘I suppose yer all planning to go on strike. An’ never mind the poor folks as won’t