Megan of Merseyside (26 page)

Chapter Twenty-six

THE ENTIRE STAFF
had been invited to Miles’ wedding and Megan listened in aloof silence as the other girls in the office chattered excitedly about the forthcoming event. As they discussed in minute detail the outfits they were planning to wear she felt almost at screaming pitch.

The office was to be closed for the day so she was kept busy rearranging deliveries or postponing them so that the staff who worked at the docks would also be able to take the day off.

‘We’re organising a collection to buy a wedding present for Miles. Do you want to chip in, Megan?’ challenged Olive.

‘Of course,’ Megan told her, reaching into her handbag for her purse.

‘You don’t have to … not if you’re buying him something special on your own,’ Mavis told her pertly.

‘I’ll give the same as the rest of you,’ Megan stated coolly. Inwardly she felt in turmoil, but she was determined to face the situation as dispassionately as possible.

After the way Miles had treated her she ought to be able to dismiss him from her thoughts completely, yet, no matter how hard she tried, she found that was impossible. Memories, fragmented
moments
of emotion, struck like lightning flashes leaving her vulnerable. He even invaded her dreams. She would waken from her nightmare with sweat rivering down her body and feeling as weak as if she’d endured some terrible illness. She wanted to run away, to hide in some dark, isolated corner where she could give way to her tears in private and no one would sympathise or criticise.

Each day was traumatic. Having to talk to Miles in the office, knowing that others were within earshot and could hear every word she uttered, made her tongue-tied. It sent her brain spinning so that she was bedevilled by a sense of her own inadequacy and weakness. The deepening despair she felt deadened all her faculties so that she was under a constant strain.

Even worse was when Mavis or Olive were actually in the room. Then she was conscious that they were watching Miles and her, registering the unspoken conflict between them. And she knew that afterwards they would discuss every syllable and every look that passed between them, and either pity her or laugh about her being another of his conquests.

Megan found the situation at home equally trying. There were interminable arguments between her parents as her father tried to persuade Kathy to overcome her resentment and accept the invitation to Miles Walker’s wedding.

‘Mr Walker is bound to notice if we’re not there,’ he said worriedly.

‘Then you go. No one is stopping you,’ snapped Kathy, her lips a tight, uncompromising line.

‘You’ve been invited as well!’

‘No one is going to worry whether I’m there or not,’ commented Kathy acidly.

‘They will. If you stay away the Walkers might take it as a personal slight.’

‘Good! That’s exactly what I intend it to be,’ she told him with grim satisfaction.

‘But we ought to go,’ pleaded Watkin, running his hand through his hair, a look of distress darkening his face.

‘Then go!’

‘I want you with me,
cariad
. Come on, let’s try and put the past behind us. Go out and buy a new hat, or a whole outfit, if you like. Megan will go with you.’

‘Dress up and let them think we’ve forgiven their son for killing our daughter?’ retorted Kathy scathingly.

Watkin shook his head sadly. ‘Will I never get through to you, woman, that it was an accident!’

‘He killed her!’ Her eyes blazed angrily, colour stained her sagging cheeks.

‘The roads were wet, the scooter skidded,’ Watkin explained patiently.

Kathy stood up, walked over to the window and stood there staring out unseeingly.

‘If we don’t attend the wedding when we’ve been invited then my job could be on the line!’

‘What’s so special about being a lorry driver?’

‘If I’m sacked, it mightn’t be easy to find another job, the way things are at the moment.’

‘Rubbish! I don’t know why both you and Megan didn’t leave Walker’s right after our Lynn
was
killed. I don’t know how you can bear to take that man’s money.’

‘Kathy, it was an accident,’ repeated Watkin, wearily. He walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Gently he planted a kiss on her brow. She made no response but remained staring out of the window as though in a trance.

If only Kathy would accept the truth, he thought sadly. His heart ached for the way she was suffering but they couldn’t bring Lynn back.

He tried asking Megan if she would talk to her mother and see if she could persuade her to change her mind, but Megan refused to intervene.

‘Why don’t you leave well alone,’ she advised. ‘Mam might seize the opportunity to speak to either Mr or Mrs Walker and cause an unpleasant scene.’

‘Don’t talk daft, girl,’ he said angrily. Yet he knew there was a possibility of that happening, knowing Kathy’s hatred towards Miles. If Miles had shot Lynn at point blank range she couldn’t have thought him more responsible for her death.

‘I’m not going and that’s that,’ Kathy declared the night before the wedding. ‘You may work for the Walkers, but they don’t own us.’

‘I want us to be there,’ he insisted. ‘We’ve been given time off specifically so that we can attend the wedding.’

‘Then go!’ Kathy Williams screamed, her face distorted with rage. ‘If you do don’t come looking for me afterwards because I’ll have gone to join our Lynn.’

Hands over her ears, Megan walked away from
the
argument. She understood why her father thought they ought to attend the wedding, but she knew only too well that it was impossible to reason with her mother when she was in one of these moods.

‘I’ve no time for Walker or his son,’ Watkin said bitterly as he followed Megan out of the room. ‘I’d like to see them both in hell for what they’ve done to my family. I don’t intend giving them the satisfaction of knowing that, mind you. Even if I can’t persuade your mam to go to the wedding, then I’ll have to stay with her, but I still want you to be there,’ he told Megan curtly. ‘I know what that bastard meant to you … and I’ve a pretty good idea what you’ve been through and what was going on when you went away for the weekend recently.’

The knowing look in his dark eyes sent a shiver through her and an embarrassed flush stained her cheeks.

‘No, Robert didn’t tell me,’ he said before she could question him. ‘I worked it out for myself. We’ll say no more about it but someday this family will get even with the Walkers, I’ll promise you that.’

Megan bit down on her lower lip, too moved to speak.

‘Go to the wedding, Megan,’ he urged. ‘Get all dressed up, girl. Do our family proud. Show that bugger Miles that you are not heartbroken on his account.’

She wanted to refuse, to dismiss the idea as ludicrous, but she realised how much it meant to her father.

‘All right.’

She looked away quickly, disturbed by the gleam of satisfaction that flooded his face.

Her feelings for Miles remained like a raging torrent inside her head. Attending Miles’ wedding would be the ultimate peak of endurance. To see him standing at the altar rails waiting for his bride; to endure the solemnity of the service; to watch as he and Carol Brocklehurst walked back up the aisle, arm in arm, legally man and wife, called for a strength she wasn’t sure she possessed.

St Hilary’s church was already packed when Megan arrived. Relatives of the Walkers and representatives from the leading shipping and haulage companies that operated from Liverpool docks filled the front rows.

Two rows in the centre of the church had been reserved for Walker’s employees and as she and Robert took their seats Megan was aware that many eyes were on them.

She felt quietly confident, knowing she looked her best. Her cream coat over a blue and cream floral dress was pretty yet restrained. The blue hat, banded in cream, suited her colouring and struck just the right note of formality.

For a moment as they took their seats she felt her senses spinning and the congregation became a blur. She breathed deeply, clutching tightly hold of her cream handbag, in an effort to stop herself shaking. Then gradually her heart stopped pounding and she was able to take stock of who was present.

She quickly spotted Mavis, resplendent in a
vivid
yellow dress and matching hat, sitting next to Olive. She’d heard them discussing the details of what they would be wearing so many times over the past weeks that it was like seeing the rerun of a technicolour film.

Mr Newbold, wearing a grey suit, was sitting in the same row accompanied by a stout middle-aged lady in flamboyant pink whom she assumed must be his wife.

Simon Gregson and Bob Donovan, the two shipping clerks, were sitting together and as they nudged one another and stared at her and Robert she gritted her teeth, knowing there would be plenty of gossip about them being together.

Then she caught sight of Miles in his flawlessly cut morning suit; he had never looked more handsome. He seemed completely at ease and Megan wondered what he was thinking as he waited for Carol Brocklehurst to arrive.

How could he be so poised and self-possessed knowing the many lives he had wrecked? Had he wiped from his mind how he had two-timed her, flirted with Lynn at the Stork Club and the circumstances that had caused Lynn’s death.

She shivered. If he could put all that behind him and live only for today then perhaps he really was the monster her mother claimed him to be.

As the music changed, signalling the bride’s arrival, she watched in growing anguish as Miles and his best man took their places at the altar steps. Her world rocked as if the past was closing round her, a dark curtain shutting off any chance of happiness.

As Miles half turned, and she saw the welcoming smile on his face as he watched his bride approach, Megan felt her heart would break. For weeks now she had steeled herself to hate him, to despise him, to resent the way he had used her as an object for his lust and then discarded her when she needed him most. Yet deep down she knew that his effect on her emotions was as powerful as ever.

She hated her own weakness in still loving a man who had shown so clearly that he had no respect whatsoever for her and who sought her company for one reason only. A man who could discard her without a second thought when he no longer needed her.

With a supreme effort, Megan brought her thoughts back to the present and forced herself to concentrate on what was happening around her as Carol Brocklehurst came down the aisle on her father’s arm.

As they passed by, the sheer blanket of whiteness that filled her vision made Megan catch her breath. For a terrifying second, it was as if she was back in the hospital where everything, walls, ceiling, bedding and furniture, had all been stark white.

When Robert’s hand reached out and took hers, squeezing it reassuringly, it was almost her undoing.

She glanced sideways, studying Robert’s profile and the firm set of his broad shoulders. He was kind and gentle; good-looking in a rugged sort of way, and she knew he loved her deeply. So
why
hadn’t she accepted his offer of marriage?

As she returned the pressure of his hand she felt like a traitor to her own feelings, to her family, and most of all to Robert. Was she making him endure the same emotional trauma as Miles had made her suffer? she wondered guiltily.

Perhaps it was time she stopped turning to him whenever she was in trouble. Maybe she ought to break the tenuous thread of friendship that kept him at her side and leave him free to find the happiness he deserved, she thought sadly as she struggled to focus her attention on the service.

It was like some terrible, endless dream listening to Miles and Carol Brocklehurst exchanging their vows. Then came the interminable wait while the bride and groom, and close family, adjourned to the vestry to sign the register.

She felt a surge of relief when the service was over and the newlyweds headed the procession that began to move slowly down the aisle. It would be the start of a new life for her, too, she vowed. From now on, she really would put Miles right out of her mind. Forget the past completely; forget all that he had meant to her.

As they drew level with the pew where she stood alongside Robert, Miles stared straight at her. Shocked and mesmerised, she was conscious that Robert’s hand had grasped her arm tightly as she stiffened. With a sharp intake of breath she managed to hold her head high. Inwardly she prayed that no one else had noticed the way Miles had looked at her.

At the reception, she forced herself to chat
casually
to Mavis and Olive. Mr Newbold, looking far less authoritative away from his books and ledgers, introduced his wife to them all.

She felt utterly lost when Robert momentarily left her side in order to collect some food. She longed to leave, but knew that it would be noticed if she did. Her father’s plea that she didn’t let Miles know how much he’d broken her heart and wrecked her life kept her resolutely talking and smiling.

When the announcement was made that the bridal pair were about to leave on their honeymoon, she made no attempt to join the laughing crowd making for the front door to wave them off.

‘Come on,’ Robert urged. ‘You’ve played your part too well not to take the final curtain.’

She looked up at him, startled. She’d been congratulating herself on how convincingly she had been behaving. That Robert had realised that it was merely an act filled her with chagrin. Numbly, she stood by his side on the driveway, well back from all the well-wishers clustered round Miles’ car, everyone laughing and joking as they tied an assortment of good luck tokens to the bumper.

Carol came out onto the drive on her own. She looked stunning in a pale green dress and jacket that complemented her vivid auburn hair. Envy and jealousy brought a lump to Megan’s throat.

‘Lost him already, Carol!’

‘You’ll have to watch him!’

‘We all know what Miles is like …’

Laughter and wisecracks came from all sides.
Carol
looked nervous as she settled herself in the passenger seat of the car and wound down the window so that she could reply to the banter.