Desperate Measures. Kitty Neale

me half an hour to make some sandwiches and then pop down.’

      Betty looked delighted as she climbed the stairs, calling, ‘See you soon.’

      Val went inside her own flat to make a plate of cucumber sandwiches, and then finding a packet of individual chocolate rolls she arranged them on a plate before gong to the bathroom to refresh her make-up.

      Shortly afterwards the doorbell rang and Val tucked a stray lock of hair back into her French pleat as she answered it, a smile of welcome on her face. ‘Come on in.’

      Betty stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room. ‘This is lovely – I just love your décor. Youngsters nowadays go for all the modern stuff with bright, garish wallpaper, whereas this is so soothing, so sophisticated.’

      ‘I prefer soft colours and as I can’t tackle wallpapering, I just gave it all a coat of paint. Would you like tea or coffee?’

      ‘Tea please.’

      ‘Sit yourself down. I won’t be a tick,’ Val said, going back to her small kitchenette.

      When the tea was made she carried the tray through. ‘I hope you like cucumber sandwiches.’

      ‘Yes, lovely,’ Betty said, whilst eyeing the plate of chocolate rolls with appreciation.

      Val sat opposite, poured the tea into small, delicate china cups and then offered cubes of sugar from a bowl, complete with little silver tongs.

      Betty took two lumps, then saying, ‘Well, Happy Birthday again.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      ‘My daughter was waiting for me when I came home from the park this morning. She couldn’t stay long as she was off to buy new clothes for a holiday in Spain.’

      ‘That’s nice. Is she going with her husband?’

      ‘Anne isn’t married. She’s going with her boyfriend.’

      ‘Do you have other children?’

      ‘Yes, a son, and he’s single too.’

      Val didn’t want to sound too inquisitive, so said, ‘I’m sure your daughter will love Spain. I once went to Barcelona and the architecture was stunning.’

      ‘You’re lucky. I’ve never been abroad.’

      ‘Yes, well, nowadays I’m lucky if I can afford a day trip to Brighton.’

      ‘Me too,’ said Betty.

      So, the woman was hard up, Val thought as she mentally stored this small piece of information. ‘There are some lovely places in England and I’ve always been fond of Dorset. Do have a sandwich,’ she encouraged, whilst fumbling for common ground. ‘I suppose you heard that Judy Garland died on Monday?’

      ‘Yes, I saw it in the newspaper. It said she died from an overdose of sleeping pills.’

      ‘I was so sad to hear of her death. Since I saw her in The Wizard of Oz she’s been one of my favourite actresses.’

      ‘I loved her in A Star is Born,’ Betty enthused.

      ‘Do you go to the cinema much?’

      ‘Not really, but I did go to see Maggie Smith in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie.’

      ‘Me too. I was so glad when it won the Oscar.’

      Betty just nodded, munching on her sandwich and, when it was finished, Val held out the cakes.

      ‘Thanks,’ Betty said, taking one and biting into it with obvious relish.

      Maybe food could be a common interest, Val thought. ‘I’m not much of a cook. What about you?’

      ‘I used to be, but as I only cook for myself now, it’s usually something simple.’

      ‘I love eating out, and often go to a little French restaurant in Chelsea.’

      ‘I’ve never tried French food.’

      ‘It’s delicious, Betty, and if you aren’t doing anything tomorrow, we could go there for lunch.’

      Betty’s eyes lit up for a moment, but then her face straightened as she said, ‘I … I don’t know. Is it expensive?’

      ‘Not really, but don’t worry, it’s a family-run business and I know the owner. He usually gives me a discount.’

      ‘In that case, I’d love to.’

      ‘Wonderful,’ Val said as she stood up to take a packet of cigarettes from the mantelshelf. Inviting Betty to tea had been a good move and she was pleased that there’d now be another opportunity to get to know her better. ‘Would you like a cigarette?’ she asked.

      ‘No thanks, I don’t smoke.’

      ‘At six shillings a packet I know I should stop too, but I have managed to cut down.’

      ‘Do you work locally?’ Betty asked.

      ‘I’m a receptionist for a solicitor in the King’s Road.’

      ‘It must be nice to work in an office and so interesting.’

      ‘It can be sometimes, though most of my work is just routine. What do you do, Betty?’

      ‘I’m just a sort of cleaner-cum-housekeeper in Kensington. I used to live in Surrey, but saw the job advertised in The Lady. I applied for it and got it, but it meant moving to London. My employer’s away at the moment, but when in town he keeps me busy with his incessant demands.’

      ‘He sounds a bit of an ogre,’ Val sympathised.

      ‘He’s all right, but used to servants seeing to his every wish. His home is just amazing and it’s such a shame that it remains empty for most of the year. He has a large staff, but when his wife died he retreated to his country home taking them with him. I was lucky to be taken on for his London house, but as I said, only as a sort of cleaner-cum-housekeeper.’

      ‘If you’re the only one there, don’t you find it lonely?’

      ‘Sometimes, but I keep myself busy. It’s a very large house with plenty to do, and just polishing the silver can take all day. I’d love to work in an office like you, but I was a stay-at-home wife and mother so I’m not trained for anything else.’

      ‘There’s nothing wrong with being a housewife and mother,’ Val said. She had caught the trace of bitterness in Betty’s voice again, and though tempted to ask questions, it wouldn’t do to rush things. ‘Would you like another cup of tea?’

      ‘I’d love one.’

      ‘I’ll just top up the pot,’ Val said, taking it through to the kitchenette. So far she’d gleaned a little information, but if she didn’t want to scare Betty off she would have to play this carefully. In her experience, Val had found that if you shared a confidence it was likely to be returned, but it was too early to try this ploy now. She would have to wait, but nevertheless crossed her fingers, hoping that Betty would turn out to be a suitable candidate.

       Chapter Three

      On Sunday, Betty climbed into Val’s rather battered old car. ‘It’s smashing not to have to wait for a bus. This is lovely,’ she said.

      ‘I’d hardly call this old banger lovely,’ Val said dryly ‘and it isn’t a patch on the company car I used to have. Still, it’ll get us there.’

      Betty gazed at Val and, seeing how elegant she looked, felt old and frumpy beside her. Other than her home-made clothes, there had been one or two outfits she’d worn when entertaining, but they were nothing in comparison to the beautiful dresses worn by the wives of Richard’s friends. Betty