'He's heading for the house. Peter, come and see!'

Peter came to see, but only to pacify her so the two of them could get back to their bed.

Just then, when Martin seemed to glance up, they quickly stepped back a little.

'He's looking for trouble,' Mary decided. 'Why else would he come visiting at this time of night? It's poor Lucy I feel sorry for married to a cheating monster like that!'

Her husband, Peter, was bone-tired. 'Mary! I have no idea why he's visiting his wife's sister ... nor do I think we should be monitoring the neighbours when we could be getting a good night's sleep.'

Reaching over her, he closed the curtains, before gently taking her by the arm and leading her back to bed. 'All right, so he's visiting Lucy's sister, but we already knew he was having an affair. Besides, as I've told you before, many times, it is none of our business. For pity's sake, Mary, if he really is looking for trouble, and he finds out that you're spying on his every movement, he could just as well take his anger out on us.'

'You're right, of course you are.' Mary settled back into bed. 'Only ... well, I've got such a bad feeling about all this business. Think of it, Peter. There's Lucy away, Martin is creeping round Paula's house at all hours of the day and night, and Paula seems to be enjoying it all. It's a bad situation and as far as I'm concerned, it'll make for trouble. You mark my words.'

Peter smiled to himself. 'Right, my dear, it's all duly "marked", as you say. So now, can we please get some sleep?'

'Yes, of course.'

She closed her eyes, but was too restless to sleep. Her thoughts went to Lucy, that dear woman who had never put a foot wrong, and would always do a good turn for a friend or neighbour.

Completely unaware that his every movement had been monitored by the watchful neighbour, Martin approached the back door. He raised his fist, and was about to knock when, on an instinct, he decided to try the door first.

Gently he turned the door k.n.o.b and gave it the slightest push. When the door opened he was both thrilled and furious. Stupid woman! Why was it she could never remember to lock the back door?

So as not to alarm her, he leaned inside and softly called out, 'Paula?' When there was no answer, he wondered if she was off out somewhere, but it was gone midnight, so where the h.e.l.l could she be? And why hadn't she mentioned anything earlier?

He checked the kitchen and the lounge, and now he was on his way upstairs, careful to be quiet in case she was fast asleep. He did not want to alarm her.

As always, the landing light was on, but that did not concern him; at least not as much as did the back door always being open. She'll get the length of my tongue for not locking the house up, he thought angrily as he neared the bedroom. I'd best fix it somehow, so she can't possibly leave it open. Only, just now he was not quite sure how he might do that.

He tapped on the bedroom door. He thought it best to let her know he was here, otherwise she could get a fright to see him creeping into her bedroom. 'Paula, it's me, Martin. You left the back door open again.' When there was no answer, he raised his voice slightly, and called again, 'Paula! It's me, Martin. Are you in there?'

Sounding sleepy, Paula's voice gentled over to him. 'Martin! What are you doing here? You say I left the back door open ... oh, I forgot again. Go down, Martin ... put the kettle on. I'll only be a minute. OK?'

'I'd rather come in.' The idea of spending the night with her was very appealing. He opened the door and peeped in, to see her sitting on the edge of the bed, looking drowsy.

'Martin, for once will you do as I ask?' she yelled. 'Go down and put the kettle on! Please ... I need the bathroom right now. Go on!'

Having woken her into a bad mood, his desire to get into bed with her had quickly faded. 'Right!' He backed off. 'I'll have the kettle boiled and the tea made by the time you get down. Don't be too long. There's something I'd like to discuss with you.'

On the way there he'd had an idea that he was itching to run by her. He was hoping to persuade her that all in good time, after everything was settled, it might be sensible to sell up and move away from these parts. New life, new start, that's what he fancied; away from anything and everyone.

After boiling the kettle, he got out the milk, sugar and two cups and set them out on the kitchen table.

Going quickly down the hallway, he took a long look at the back door lock, trying to see how it could be made safer, or to somehow fix it, so that it might lock automatically. What Paula needed was simply a great big notice pinned to it, and maybe another one hung at the bottom of the stairs, so when she closed the door and when she went to bed she would see the reminders.

He gave the mechanism one last inspection, and having now convinced himself that he would be spending the night in Paula's bed, he began merrily whistling, delighted when he heard foosteps on the stairway.

He swung round smiling, only to be confronted with a heavy fist in his face, the force of which sent him hurtling to the wall.

'So you thought you'd steal in while me and my wife were in bed, did you?'

'b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l!' Hurt and bleeding, Martin struggled to get up, but he was knocked back down again. Realising that he was no match for Paula's husband, Ray, he stayed where he was. 'What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?' He was more furious than afraid.

'Well, now, before you came barging in where you were neither invited nor wanted my lovely wife and myself were having such fun renewing our marriage vows ...' the big man grinned slyly, '... if you know what I mean? And then you spoiled it by b.u.t.ting in and would you believe, I had to climb out of my wife's warm bed, and hide like a criminal in the bathroom.' He tutted. 'In my own house, with my own wife. It doesn't seem right somehow, does it?'

Shocked and inflamed by the big man's taunting words, Martin scrambled up, and threw himself at Ray. 'She won't be your wife for very much longer! The papers have already gone to the solicitors. She wants me, not you!' He looked up at Paula, who had appeared in the doorway. 'Go on, Paula, tell him!'

Paula smiled. 'I don't know what you mean,' she said sweetly. 'I tore the divorce papers up last night.' She glanced up at her husband. 'Ray turned up unexpectedly the night before last. He managed to talk me out of the divorce. Oh! Sorry, Martin, I really should have told you,' she taunted.

Paula's husband laughed out loud. 'I would have thought you might have learned by now what a real cow she is. But, you see, she's my sort of cow. We belong together, me and her.'

'You're lying ... Paula, sweetheart.' Martin pleaded, 'Has he threatened you, is that it?'

Suddenly Martin was yanked off his feet when the big man grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. 'You heard what she said, now get out of here ... and don't come back. I'm here now, and I'm here for good. D'you understand what I'm saying?' He shook Martin like a rag doll, then he swung him across the floor and sent him hurtling into the back door. 'Now get out while you're still in one piece!'

Scrabbling to get up, Martin urged Paula, 'Tell him, sweetheart, tell him it's me you want ... that we were planning to get married as soon as the divorce came through. Tell him, Paula!'

Paula smiled and slowly shook her head. 'I was using you, Martin, to make Ray jealous. It worked and now we're back together. So you served your purpose and I don't need you any more.'

'No!' Martin was broken. 'Please, Paula, don't say that. How can you let him back into your life, after the way he's treated you? You know I love-' Suddenly, he was lifted off his feet and thrown out of the back door, landing with an almighty b.u.mp on the concrete pathway.

The big man laughed, a loud, raucous rumbling sound that frightened the cats and woke the neighbourhood. 'Sorry, Martin, but you're the loser! So get lost. And don't let me catch you round here again ... or I can't promise you'll walk away on your own two legs.'

Behind him, Paula was taunting, 'Poor Martin! I can't imagine why you thought I would ever trade my Ray for a weak man like you.'

Paula's jibe cut Martin deep. He adored this woman and now she was goading him, shamelessly admitting that all along, she intended getting back with her husband. He realised what a fool he'd been, and he went crazy.

'b.a.s.t.a.r.d!' In a fit of rage, he launched himself at Ray.

The fight was bitter, with no holds barred. Soon, all the lights were on in the neighbouring houses. Mary Taylor looked out of her bedroom window. 'Peter! Quick, they're killing each other!'

Peter hurried to the window and was sickened to see the two men at each other's throats.

Fearing someone was about to be killed, Paula forced herself between them, but there was no stopping them. Fists were flying and Paula was taking the fallout as Martin tried desperately to shield her from Ray. And now the big man had got a long bar of sorts in his fist and he was thrashing Martin. Paula was screaming, 'Stop! You're killing him!'

The two men were at each other's throats, with Paula screaming and hanging on to Ray's mighty arm, until suddenly she was thrown to the ground. Then Ray swung the bar down again, as hard as he could in all directions. There followed a series of piercing cries from Paula and scuffling noises, and then silence.

Absolute, eerie silence.

'Quick, Mary, call the police,' Peter screamed at her. 'Hurry, love ... hurry!'

While Mary rushed away to do as she was asked, the silence thickened. She was right, he murmured sadly, nodding his head. 'My Mary was right all along.'

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

WITH A NEW day dawning, Lucy opened her eyes, and saw that it was four o'clock. She was shocked to find herself in Dave Benson's room ... in his bed, and lying in his strong, protective arms. Everything rushed back into her mind. The way she had knocked on his bedroom door, almost naked, and virtually asked him to take her to bed, made her feel ashamed.

Being careful not to wake him, she slid out from under the bedclothes, and for a long, precious moment she looked down on his sleeping face. She realized then without a shadow of doubt that she truly loved this man ... this stranger.

She hoped he did not think less of her for being so easily taken.

But, for all that, she did not feel guilty. Instead, she felt unbelievably exhilarated and alive like never before. And to her shame, she wanted more of him. But sadly, for a mult.i.tude of reasons, it could not be. So, very softly, she drew the covers over his chest. Then, going to the desk, she wrote him a heartfelt note.

My dearest Dave, Regrettably, I now have to return to my family. But I so want you to know that although we will probably never see each other again, I will forever cherish the memories of our time together. Thank you, for your understanding, and for the wonderful experiences we've shared, in this beautiful place.

I won't forget you, Stay safe.

G.o.d bless.

Lucy Lovejoy Placing the note beside his pillow, she quietly made her way out of the room, carefully closing the door behind her, so as not to wake him.

In the privacy of her own room, Lucy shed bitter tears. 'Why do I need to go back?' she asked herself aloud. Then she answered her own question. 'You are not a free spirit. You're a married woman, Lucy Lovejoy. You have responsibilities ... children ... a grandson ... a family waiting at home for you. Your place is with them. And the sooner you accept again the responsibility resting on you, the better!'

Feeling kind of lost, she picked up the telephone receiver and dialled '0' for reception.

When the night receptionist answered, Lucy asked, 'Do you have a train timetable at all?'

'We do, yes. Would you like me to send it up to you?'

'No, thank you. I'm on my way down. I just need to get to the station and catch the first available train home.'

'So, will you be wanting a car to take you to the station?'

Lucy was embarra.s.sed to ask, but it was necessary. 'Can I ask how much that will cost?'

She had put money aside for her stay here, and she had a few pounds left over for the train home, and for small emergencies, but a car ... well, that may be too expensive.

'Oh, no, Miss Lovejoy!' the receptionist informed her. 'The hotel runs two courtesy cars. Just tell me when you would like to leave, and I'll arrange a car for you.'

Lucy's mind went back to Dave could she just run out on him like that? Or should she stay and explain further ... face to face? No, I can't see him, or I may change my mind! she decided.

'Sorry,' the receptionist said. 'I'm sorry, Miss Lovejoy, I did not quite catch what you said.'

Lucy told her, 'I would like you to please book the car for me. I'm almost ready.'

'No problem, Miss Lovejoy. And would you like me to send a porter for your suitcase?'

'No, thank you. It's only a small case. I can manage that all right. I'll be down shortly, and if I could have a peep at your train timetable, that would help me.'

'Of course, I'll have it ready for you.'

Half an hour later, after rushing about before Dave might wake up, Lucy was downstairs in reception.

As good as her word, the receptionist had everything ready: the bill; the train timetable; and the courtesy car was already waiting outside for her.

Lucy was delighted to see that the first train out, at six thirty, was en route for Bedford.

Desperate to be gone, she paid her bill. She then left a modest tip, and climbing into the courtesy car, she was whisked away in good time.

Not long after she'd departed, the telephone rang at reception.

Picking up the receiver, the receptionist put on her greeting voice: 'Lorriet Hotel. Good morning, can I help you?'

She listened patiently to the person on the other end, and then found the need to apologise. 'Oh, no, I'm very sorry, but Miss Lucy Lovejoy has already left ... about twenty minutes ago.'

She listened again. 'Oh, I see ... No, there is no way I can get in touch with her unless I send someone to the station, but that would probably be too late. I understand she's catching an early train. Yes. It leaves in about twenty minutes. Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry I could not be of more help.'

With the short conversation over, she replaced the receiver and set about checking her tasks for the day.

Kathleen replaced her receiver with huge relief but not before wishing her 'aged aunt' a tender goodbye, saying, 'Thank you, aunt, take care of yourself.'

'What did your aunt say?' Pacing up and down, Anne was growing increasingly anxious.

Crossing her fingers behind her back, Kathleen explained, 'Your mother is already on her way back. Apparently, for whatever reason, she seemed anxious to get home. No doubt she's been missing all of you.'

Anne continued pacing the floor. 'Mum isn't used to staying with strangers. No offence to your aunt, but Mum's a real home bird and, like a mother hen, she worries about us all.' Looking up with a tear-stained face she went on, 'Poor Mum. She doesn't know what she's coming home to, does she?'

'No, she doesn't, and it's just as well. When she learns the bad news, she'll be shaken to the roots.'

'How long will it take for her to get here?'

'It is not a short journey, as you know,' Kathleen cautioned her. 'I don't suppose she'll be here for a few hours yet.'

'Is there a way we can contact her?'

'What would be the point in upsetting her when she can't change anything?'

Anne shook her head, 'Kathleen, I really need my mum,' she said tearfully. 'I need to hold her.'

Kathleen hugged her. 'I know you need her, but she'll be here soon enough.'

Just then, the baby woke up in his buggy and started crying. 'I'd best get home and feed him,' Anne said.

'Okay, but you're always welcome to come back here to be with me. It's fine, and I want to help.'

Anne thanked her. 'I know you do, and I'm so thankful Mum has such a good friend in you. She's going to need you, Kathleen.'

Kathleen smiled. 'I know that, and I'll be here for her ... like she's always been there for me.'

Anne said her goodbyes. 'You will ring me if you hear anything, won't you, Kathleen?' she called back from the street.