Free Sins of the Father by Kitty Neale Page A

heard her father staggering up the ladder.
    His head cleared the top, his voice loud. ‘Emma, where’s my bloody dinner?’
    ‘I kept it hot for as long as possible. You’ll find a few slices of Spam on a plate, but the potatoes will be cold.’
    He muttered something, his head disappearing again, and Emma sighed with relief. She felt Susan stir beside her, but thankfully she didn’t wake up, and as Emma closed her eyes against the sound of her father crashing about downstairs, her thoughts focused instead on Mr Bell’s lovely house.
    When Emma was leaving for work the next morning, Liz Dunston was waiting for her on theground floor. With the largest flat and a small back garden, she thought herself a cut above the rest of them. Her husband was a milkman, up at the crack of dawn, and she had one son, who, at fifteen years old was a butcher’s apprentice.
    The tall, statuesque woman folded her arms across her chest, her voice high with indignation. ‘Emma, the racket your father made when he came home last night woke my husband again. I’ve tried talking to him, but he ignores me, and when I came out to complain he swore at me.’
    ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Dunston.’
    Her face softened a little. ‘I’m not blaming you, girl, but this can’t go on. If it doesn’t stop I’ll be forced to complain to the landlord.’
    ‘Oh, please, don’t do that.’
    ‘He’s on his last chance, Emma. Have a word with him, will you?’
    Emma murmured yes, but knew her father wouldn’t take any notice of her. God, she’d be mortified if Mrs Dunston complained to Mr Bell. She wouldn’t be able to look him in the face-and what if he gave her the sack?
    Emma was still worrying when she reached Clapham Common. Letting herself into the house, she was surprised to see her employer in the hall.
    ‘Hello, Emma,’ he said, smiling pleasantly. ‘Why the long face?’
    ‘It’s nothing, sir.’
    ‘Now then, how many times have I told you not to call me sir? I’ll be off in a minute or two, but I noticed that you cleaned my study yesterday. Did you move any papers from my desk?’
    ‘Oh, no, Mr Bell, I didn’t touch your desk.’
    ‘Blast, I can’t find them and need them urgently. I’ll have another look.’ He turned on his heels, heading for his study.
    Emma went to get cleaning materials. As was her routine, she started with the drawing room. It looked lovely as she walked in, a ray of sun shining through the bay window and alighting on a crystal decanter. The cut glass sparkled in a rainbow of colours, and for a moment she stood mesmerised, but then, giving herself a mental shake, she started work. Alongside the sofa there was a small side table, and on it some papers. Emma glanced at the top sheet, saw it was a letter from a firm of solicitors, and picking them up, took them across to the study.
    ‘Are these the papers you’re looking for, Mr Bell?’
    He came to her side, his eyes lighting up. ‘Well done, Emma,’ he cried and, putting an arm around her shoulder, he briefly hugged her.
    Emma immediately stiffened, pulling away as she said, ‘They…they were in the drawing room.’
    ‘Of course, I was reading through them last night and forgot to return them to the study. Welldone for finding them, my dear. Now I must get a move on or I’ll be late for my appointment and as I may not be back today, I’ll leave it to you to lock up as usual.’
    Emma nodded, confused by Mr Bell’s familiarity. He had hugged her, called her ‘my dear’, and she wondered what had come over him. Perhaps he was just pleased about the papers, but she left the study relieved that he was going to be out for the rest of the day.
    Horace Bell was smiling as he headed for his solicitor’s office. Tom Chambers was playing into his hands, just as he had hoped, the rent unpaid as usual. The more he saw of Emma, the more he desired her, and was growing impatient. Nevertheless, he would have to let the arrears accrue for another few weeks before