off to work by now and Jim down the local. Arch should be at work too. She was safe to collect what was hers. Aidy was thankful she hadn’t allowed her mother-in-law to bully her into handing her keys over.
She felt like a burglar, sneaking her way into her own backyard, then creeping up to the back-room window and peeping through it to make certain the house was indeed empty. It certainly appeared to be. There was no sounds coming from inside that she could hear. Unlocking the back door, she let herself inside. The foul smell hit her first, then the sight that met her left her gasping in shock. The pot sink was heavily stained, it being obvious it hadn’t been scrubbed since she’d left, and was filled with dirty crockery, spilling out on to the wooden draining board. A sack propped by the wall was filled with stinking rubbish. The saucepans that she had kept shiny were now blackened and smeared with burned food. The flag floor was filthy and sticky under her shoes. The drying towel she was positive was the same one she had been using the day her mother had died. Disgusted, she made her way into the back room. Her revulsion rose further when she saw the state of it.
The table was cluttered with the remains of breakfast and, if she wasn’t mistaken, last night’s meal too. Beside the armchair Jim had claimed for himself stood at least a dozen empty beer bottles and as many discarded newspapers. The arms of both easy chairs were stained with spilled tea and food. Cobwebs filled the corners of the ceiling, and the visible surfaces of the sideboard against the far wall and the mantle above the range were thick with dust. The clippy rug by the fire had very obviously not been shaken since she’d departed. The rest of the floor hadn’t been swept either. Upstairs a sour smell permeated the bedroom she had shared with Arch. It was now being occupied by his parents, and the sheets on the unmade bed were, she knew, the same pair that had been on it when she had left.
In five weeks the slovenly Nelsons had turned the lovely home that she and Arch had worked so hard to make nice into a mirror imagine of the squalid hovel they had left behind. How could Arch have stood by and let this happen? Was he so frightened of his mother, he’d allowed her to wreck his own home?
Was this perhaps why he had called to see her last night? Unable to put up with living under the same roof as them again and endure their slovenly ways, had he come to beg sanctuary off her until he could either get his parents out and reclaim the house or find another place for himself? Well, hopefully her refusal to see him had done him a favour, made him face his fears and stand up to his mother. He must free himself from her selfish domination sooner rather than later.
Aidy searched high and low but there was no sign of all the items she had come to retrieve. She knew, with a sinking heart, what had happened to them. Pat would have had no qualms in claiming they were hers and selling them on to the highest bidder.
Aidy didn’t know how that woman lived with herself, but then … women like Pat had no conscience. The one good thing to have come from the ending of her marriage was that she no longer had to deal with the likes of odious, selfish, bullying Pat Nelson.
Aidy was so upset about her discovery she decided to go home for a cup of tea and to check on Bertha before continuing with her job search. Also she knew that her grandmother would be anxious for news of how she was faring, realising how increasingly despondent Aidy was becoming as the days went by. She wouldn’t, however, upset Bertha by telling her of this visit to her former home and the dreadful state she had found it in.
Bertha’s hopeful eyes greeted Aidy when she arrived in the back room, but as soon as she witnessed the look on her granddaughter’s face she knew there was no point in asking if she’d had any success. ‘Better luck this afternoon, love,’ was all she said.
She didn’t want to add to Aidy’s worries but there was something she really ought to be aware of. ‘Er … I