Terror on Tuesday

clatter to the floor. He ignored it, and strode out into the garden, where his wife was nervously pulling up tiny weeds from an immaculate flower bed. Hazel, getting up from the table, picked up the key and replaced it, and then shut the door, quietly. She walked to the window and looked out at her parents. Her father’s voice reached her, but she could not hear what he was saying, though from his expression she knew it was not pleasant. Her mother, still crouched over the flower bed, looked the picture of dejection.

“Bastard!” muttered Hazel, and left the room.

¦

“Lois? It’s Bridie…Bridie Reading…” Lois, knowing she was in for a longish call, sighed and drew up a chair. But she was wrong. This time, Bridie Reading just about managed to tell her what had happened, then burst into tears and put down the phone.

Lois had known her a long time. Bridie lived in Waltonby now, where Derek was rewiring the pub, only a few miles from Long Farnden. But Bridie, like Lois, had grown up and gone to school in Tresham, and they had been mates. Both had rebelled in perfectly predictable fashion – a little petty shoplifting, truancy, smoking and drinking under age – and Lois had always been the ringleader. Once married, both had settled down to a law-abiding life of housework, casual work to earn much-needed extra money when the kids came along, and – in Lois’s case – loyalty to their husbands. Well, Bridie had been loyal too, so far, but Richard Reading was a very different kettle of fish from Derek Meade.

“Damn!” said Lois, her concentration gone. She had been in the middle of composing an advertisement for cleaners in the local paper: “NEW BROOMS are looking for hard-working cleaners. No previous experience necessary, but applicant should be strong and willing.” But no, that hadn’t sounded right. Willing for what? She had smiled, remembering some of her own experiences right here in this village, and had been just starting the ad again when the phone interrupted her.

Why didn’t Bridie leave him? After all, Hazel was their only child, and practically independent now, living her own life, very confident for her age and quite able to maintain herself if necessary. Why did married people cling together when it was all such a disaster? Richard Reading was a particular disaster, cruel and violent, and had Bridie completely under his thumb. It hadn’t been too bad when Hazel was little, and he was in control of both of them. But now his daughter had grown up with more spirit than her cowed mother. So far, it had enabled Hazel to stand up to him, and been the cause of violent rows, but Bridie was still a seemingly helpless victim. Lois considered what she could do – knew exactly what she would do in Bridie’s place! – but decided that there was very little anyone could do unless Bridie made the first move. She resolved to call in there on her way into Tresham to see her mother, and then put it to the back of her mind.

“NEW BROOMS – a new cleaning service, requires hardworking cleaners. Must be strong and used to physical work.” No, that wasn’t right, either. Sounded like an ad for a club bouncer. She looked at it, and erased the second sentence. Leave it at that, then? “NEW BROOMS sweep clean! A new cleaning service, based in Long Farnden, requires hardworking cleaners. Apply box number…” That would do.

She pulled on her coat and went out to the garage. It was still a novelty to have a garage, though her battered old Vauxhall was too far gone to benefit. She got in and started the engine on the third attempt. As soon as I get the business going, she thought, I might get a van, white, clean and reliable, with ‘NEW BROOMS sweep clean!’ in gold letters on the side…She drove off in a happy dream.

¦

The major was upstairs again, checking his laundry, which he took each week into Tresham. He could have bought a washing machine and done it himself, but he did not consider that man’s work. Anyway, it was an excuse to go into town and have a drink in the Tresham Arms. He had one or two drinking acquaintances there, and he might see the new barmaid. She was young, very young, but a town girl with a nice line in chat, and plenty of curly red hair. She seemed to like him, too, always had a warmer smile of welcome for him, he was sure. And if not her, then it would be an old friend and useful contact, who was there most days. Yes, it was a pleasant hour, once a week, and did nobody any harm. He glanced out of the window, and saw an old Vauxhall draw into the curb outside. He drew back, still able to see who got out. He’d seen the young woman many times before, Bridie’s friend from Long Farnden. She was dark and slim, and quick in her movements, well worth a second look. As he watched, she slammed the door, opened it and slammed it again, and then half-ran up the drive into the Readings’ house next door. Thank God for that! He did not encourage visitors. He considered himself a perfectly sociable person in his contact with the outside world, but never invited a friend back. He had no real friends, he reflected, not chums, and considered himself better off without them.

No wonder Mrs Reading’s friend had arrived! There’d been another of those shouting matches this morning. He could hear every word through the thin walls, and that silly woman had rushed out into the garden looking desperate, as usual. Ah well, that’s what you get in marriages. Well out of it, he told himself, and took a last look in the mirror. Satisfied, he went downstairs, out of the front door, and locked it behind him.

¦

“Bridie?” Lois tentatively stepped into the kitchen. She could hear sounds from the television, and walked through to the sitting room, where Bridie sat slumped in an armchair, her head fallen to one side, and her face pale. Lois walked over and touched her shoulder, noticing a bruise on her cheek. “Bridie?” she said gently.

Her friend stirred and opened her eyes, then winced. “Ouch!” she said, touching her cheek.

“Did he do that?” said Lois. Bridie nodded, and Lois said loudly, “For God’s sake, Bridie, you’ve got to bloody do something!” Lois was always hard on the kids for swearing, but, as Derek said, it was one law for them and another for her.

“You always say that,” said Bridie, pushing herself unsteadily out of the chair.

“And you never do anything,” said Lois. “Here, sit down again. You’re swaying in the breeze. I’ll get you a cup of tea.”

She went back to the kitchen and put on the kettle. Then she collected up dirty plates and mugs and washed them quickly. She glanced at her watch. Her mother was expecting her for a snack at twelve thirty in Tresham, and she had to take her advertisement in to the newspaper office first. She made two cups of tea and took them through.

“You could get help, you know that,” she said, sitting down in front of Bridie. “He’s a violent pig, and always has been. What d’you think it’s doing to Hazel? She’s already old for her age, and looks as if she’s seen it all at nineteen.”

“She has,” said Bridie flatly. “But then, she copes. She’s like him, you know. I don’t worry too much about her. In fact…” She stopped, and her mouth quivered.

“What?” said Lois, frowning.

“In fact,” repeated Bridie, “she doesn’t need me, he don’t need me, nobody needs me…” She paused, and then all in a rush, said, “So the best possible thing would be for me to get out. Out of everything, I mean. Put an end to it.”

Lois stood up quickly. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” she said. “You don’t mean it. An’ what’s happened to you, anyway? You were always up for anything…bunkin’ off school, helping ourselves to this an’ that…sorting out the randy sods! Come on, Bridie, don’t let him win. He’s got you so low you’ve given up…” Bridie began to cry. “Well, if you won’t take action, I will,” said Lois firmly.

“No! He’ll take it out on me! It’ll just make things worse, Lois, I promise you that.”

Bridie’s eyes held real terror, and Lois said quickly, “No, no, I don’t mean to tackle him or anything like that. I just had this idea that might help. You know I’m starting the cleaning business – well, why don’t you come and work for me? I know cleanin’s not all that grand, but it’ll get you out, and I’m paying proper wages.” She hadn’t very high hopes of getting Bridie to agree, and so was surprised at her reaction.

“Yes! That’s it!” she said. “It’ll be nuthin’ to do with him, and I’ll get to talk to other people, an’ that.”

“Well then,” said Lois, thinking privately that it was not going to be as easy as that. First she had to get him to agree, or he’d give her hell even more than usual. Still, worth a try, and she knew Bridie was usually a fanatical housewife, with floors you could eat off. She stood up and said, “I’ll have to be off now, Bridie, but I’ll get in touch. Just be thinking how to tell him.”

Bridie nodded. “Lois…” She hesitated.

“What?” Lois was impatient now to be off.

“Sometimes,” continued Bridie, “he’s not bad at all sometimes he’s quite nice, really…”

“Oh God!” said Lois, and left.