Desperate Measures. Kitty Neale

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СКАЧАТЬ you. That outfit you’re wearing looks so elegant, but it must have cost the earth.’

      ‘At one time I could afford to go to all the best shops, but those days are gone. This dress would have cost the earth if it was new, but it’s actually second-hand.’

      ‘Really? Goodness, I used to go to the occasional jumble sale in our village hall, but I never found anything like that.’

      ‘It’s from a shop that sells only top-quality secondhand clothes. Finding it has been a godsend.’

      ‘Well I never. Mind you, even if I found it, I doubt there’d be anything to fit me.’

      ‘They carry a range of sizes. If you like, I’ll take you there.’

      ‘Would you? Oh, thanks, Val.’

      ‘If you’re free, we could go next Saturday?’

      ‘Can we make it in two weeks? I’m a bit short at the moment.’

      ‘Yes, that’s fine.’

      Betty picked up her glass to take a sip of tonic water, unable to help wondering about Val’s past. She had at first appeared haughty, but in reality it was just the way she held herself, head high, a slight lift to her chin. Poised, Betty thought, like a model. Earlier Val had mentioned a company car, and now said that once she’d frequented the best shops. Something must have happened to change all that, but Betty didn’t have the nerve to ask what. Maybe when they got to know each other a little better Val would confide in her. But for now she smiled with appreciation as Yvette returned to place a plate in front of her. ‘It looks lovely.’

      ‘Yes, it does, and thank you, Yvette,’ said Val.

      The two of them tucked in and Betty found the quiche Lorraine delicious. Between mouthfuls they talked about the merits of French cooking. She loved the salad dressing, and when Val told her how to make it she was determined to buy the ingredients.

      In no time their plates were empty and when Yvette returned to clear them she asked, ‘Can I get you anything else, and – as I know you love it, Val – perhaps a slice of tarte tatin?’

      ‘Lovely, and Betty, you must have some too. It’s a sort of apple tart, French style, and I’m sure you’ll love it.’

      Betty agreed to try it, and when it arrived they tucked in with relish. ‘Wonderful,’ she enthused, ‘and thanks for bringing me here, Val.’

      ‘You’re welcome, and anyway it’s nice not to eat alone for a change.’

      Betty expected someone like Val to have a wide circle of friends or family, but it appeared that if she hadn’t been invited to tea yesterday, Val would have spent her birthday alone. Unable to resist the question, she blurted out, ‘Do you have any family?’

      ‘I have a few distant relatives, but I haven’t seen them in years.’

      They continued to chat as they ate, Val going on to tell Betty that she had lost her parents many years ago. Betty found herself warming more and more to Val, so grateful for this budding friendship, and all too soon the meal was finished.

      They split the bill, Yvette smiling warmly as she said goodbye. ‘Come again soon, Valerie.’

      ‘I will,’ she said, kissing the pretty French woman on both cheeks before they left.

      Betty had loved the meal but, though it hadn’t been too expensive, she would still have to cut down on food for the rest of the week to cover the cost. It had been worth it, though, and lovely to be in Val’s company, but her mood lowered now they were going home. The rest of the day stretched ahead of her, followed by a lonely evening, but she brightened when Val spoke.

      ‘I’ll have to take Treacle for a walk, but after that why don’t you join me for a coffee?’

      ‘Lovely, but it’s my turn, so why don’t you come up to my flat?’

      ‘Yes, I’d like that,’ Val said, smiling warmly.

      They continued to chat but when they arrived home and climbed out of the car, Betty saw a young woman sitting on the wall outside the entrance to the flats. She looked scruffy, pale, and anxious as she jumped to her feet, rushing to Val’s side. ‘Oh … Val … Val,’ she cried.

      ‘Paula, what’s wrong?’

      ‘I … I saw him.’

      ‘Come on, come in,’ Val urged, and as they stepped inside, she said, ‘Sorry, Betty. I … I’ll see you later.’

      Without waiting for a reply, Val ushered the girl into her flat, the door closing swiftly behind them, leaving Betty mystified. The girl hardly looked the type to be a friend of Val’s. Who was she? And why was she so upset?

       Chapter Four

      Treacle yelped with excitement when Val and Paula walked in, his small tail wagging as he jumped up at Val’s legs but, intent on Paula, she said impatiently, ‘Get down, boy. I’ll take you for a walk soon, but not now.’

      ‘Oh … Val,’ Paula cried again.

      ‘Sit down,’ Val urged, worried by the girl’s obvious distress. ‘Tell me what happened.’

      ‘It was so hot in me bedsit and I felt stifled, so much so that I risked going out. I only went for a little walk, but … but I saw him.’

      ‘Did he see you?’

      ‘N – no, and before he got the chance I legged it. I … I ran, Val, almost all the way here.’

      ‘Oh, darling, I’m sorry I wasn’t in,’ Val consoled.

      ‘It ain’t fair. He … he ruined my life and shouldn’t be out there walking the streets.’

      ‘I’ll get you a drink,’ Val offered as she rose to her feet, her thoughts taking her back to the first time she had met Paula Richardson. She’d been to Clapham Junction and was walking back to where her car was parked when she saw a young girl ahead of her, limping and in obvious pain. The girl then stopped, and as it looked like she couldn’t walk any further, Val had gone to offer her assistance. That girl had been Paula. She had tripped badly, her ankle swollen, and despite her protests Val had insisted on driving her to casualty. Whilst waiting for X-ray results they had chatted; luckily it turned out that her ankle wasn’t broken, just sprained. On the drive home, Paula had been quiet, but when they neared her street it was as though a long-held dam burst and she poured out the story of what had happened to her so many months earlier. As she’d listened, Val had been shocked, sickened by the girl’s dreadful ordeal. Paula had looked so young, sounded so alone, a diminutive blue-eyed blonde who wasn’t yet twenty. Paula’s ordeal had awakened something in Val. She too had been hurt. Oh, not in such a dreadful way, but she was living with bitterness and hatred. Yet why should she? Why should Paula? Val had found that she wanted to do something, and, like an avenging angel, to hit back.

      The chance meeting with Paula had sparked off Val’s plans, but that had been eighteen months СКАЧАТЬ