Shadow Over Edmund Street by Suzanne Frankham (read a book .TXT) 📕

Juliana clasped her hands together, took a deep breath. When she started to speak again her voice was quiet. ‘I have to hand it to Mrs O’Brien. Whenever I get mad at her, I stop and remind myself she came through for Edwina when she needed it most. You just don’t think, do you? When you’re young, you can’t imagine how hard things are for others. Mother dead, husband disappeared, his parents not sticking around to help.

I mean Jesus, Mary and Joseph!’

Alex muttered something. Agreed. Decided it was time to change the subject. ‘Edwina worked here for most of her life we believe. Could you tell me about her job?’

‘Sit down, for God’s sake,’ said Juliana, pulling out a chair.

Alex nodded. Sat down. Noted the chair was the same as his parents had in their house when he was a child. Simple, solid wood painted green.

‘More coffee?’ Juliana waved the coffee pot in his direction.

‘Thanks. My mother used to have one of those pots on the stove. The same as yours. It takes me back. The smell.’

‘You’re Italian?’

‘My mother.’

‘I can see it now you mention it. I’ll give you some of the beans. My father imports them specially.’

‘Oh, I didn’t …’

‘My father,’ she cut in, her mind still fixed on Edwina, ‘he’s a good man. When I was a child he was strict, oh so strict. That’s all I saw, but now I see the compassion.’ She thumped her chest. ‘Take Edwina. He gave her a job three mornings a week putting out the fruit and vegetables straight from the market. Hard job. But then he’d give her a huge box of food. Extra. Every single week. “The stuff going off”, he used to say. Pretend. Sure, she worked hard, and Mrs O’Brien or one of the other church ladies would have to go in and get the kids ready for school when they were little, but my father just about fed the family. Pastas, cheeses, vegetables, fruit. My father and her congregation, they got her through. With the two kiddies to feed, the big house, all on her own, no confidence you see, no idea of the world. He paid her in cash too to help her,’ she added, challenging Alex.

‘Sure, I understand.’

Juliana nodded. ‘He always had little odd jobs for her. Extra cash. He is a good man.’ She wiped away the tears that had started rolling down her cheeks again.

Alex waited while Juliana calmed down. He took in the small room. A stove at least fifty years old, cream enamel with hot plates. A table covered with a heavy plastic tablecloth, a pattern of red roses. Walls that hadn’t been painted in his lifetime. Boxes of bananas stacked in one corner. A far cry from the shop front decorated with the light touch of an artist. He sipped his coffee, thinking how lucky Edwina was to have two people who cried for her. Sometimes he didn’t see that.

‘And then she got a new job, in the pathology lab. Must have been a surprise to you,’ Alex prompted.

Juliana smiled. ‘Oh yes, it was good for her, but she still did one morning and one afternoon here. It was an exciting time. The new place; it was amazing to see her in a new house. So smart compared to what she was used to. A car even. God, scary. And her appearance. New clothes, nice clothes, attractive. After all those years of scrimping and saving she could splash out.’

‘Yes, I want to ask you about these big changes in her life. Did she chat to you about her new job and other things? For instance … was there a man in her life?’

Juliana stared at him, spluttered and started laughing. Hysterical laughter that took a while to quieten. She looked at Alex with red-rimmed eyes, dark hair damp around her face, red lipstick smudged and fading.

‘We didn’t overlap in the shop. I didn’t see her unless we met for lunch, but it’s very hard to believe there was a man. I’ve known her since we were in nappies and we were bound together by our time at St Joey’s. Oh yes, I think I knew Edwina as well as anybody, and I’m telling you there was no man. Never likely to be. Not Edwina.’

‘Even though you haven’t been seeing her much anymore?’ Alex threw it down in front of her.

‘Even though I didn’t see much of her anymore.’

‘Why are you so sure? She’d lost a lot of weight, changed her appearance, bought new clothes. These changes are often indicative of a new relationship. Why couldn’t there have been a man in her life?’

Juliana was quiet for a moment. ‘No, I’ll never believe it. Men have been nothing but trouble for Edwina. Don’t forget her father buggered off before she was born. Her husband left her with two young children. Endless grief. All Edwina wanted was a simple life. No more worries. It would have been heaven for her.’ Then she added, almost as an afterthought. ‘Maybe you should talk to this Rose person. I never met her but I heard about her from Edwina. If you want to know what the new Edwina was up to, then she’s the one you should be talking to. But as God is my witness, I’d stake my life there was no bloody man involved.’

* Alex met Marion for lunch, in between the gym and the vegetable shop. A string of cafes to choose from. They settled on Italian. Stainless steel benchtops, black leather chairs, concrete floors. Different from the homely Italian Alex was used to from his childhood, when the restaurants served straight from giant steaming pots, the tables shouted at you with their checked tablecloths and the owners welcomed you like family.

Marion’s cheeks were pinker than usual, strands of hair escaping from her ponytail, her eyes snapping with annoyance. ‘Nothing.’ She flopped into a chair. ‘Well, not quite. But nothing worth