what you do.’
It was the closest to a compliment Millie had ever heard Biddy utter. To anyone. ‘Thank you, Biddy. That means a lot. Is that what you did as a career; sewing?’
Biddy glared at her over her glasses. ‘Seamstress? Oh no, I only sew for a hobby. For a job, I was a madam.’
Maybe it was the enclosed space that made Biddy’s words louder. Or maybe she had her hearing aid adjusted incorrectly and felt she had to yell. Whatever the reason, the statement bounced off the wall behind her and out into the small group. All eating ceased as they, as one, turned to her.
Silence.
‘Sorry Biddy, you were a what?’
Biddy starred at Millie, owlishly. ‘Thought you knew. Don’t make no secret of it. I was in charge of a house in south London.’
‘A house of –’
‘Ill repute they likes to call it.’ Biddy shrugged and the gesture made her seem much younger and altogether far more mischievous.
The penny dropped. ‘Your girls! The ones you talk about –’
‘Ah! My girls. Had twelve of them working for me. Some for nearly twenty years. Good times.’ Biddy suddenly became loquacious. ‘Had some very eminent clients, we did. Although we had a real problem when the gardener decided to chop the nettles down.’ She leaned nearer but didn’t bother to lower her voice. ‘Some of the clients liked a good thrashing with them. Never saw the attraction of it myself, but each to his own.’
For once Millie had absolutely nothing to say.
‘Way to go, Biddy!’ Zoe cackled.
‘Don’t you “way to go” me, young lady.’
‘No indeed.’ Millie rose, stunned. ‘I’ll make some tea, shall I? And find some lemonade. I made some earlier.’ She rushed for the sanctuary of her kitchen. Splashing cold water onto her burning face, she giggled. Who would have thought it? She was beginning to see Biddy in a whole new light.
Unfortunately, it seemed, so was Arthur. When she returned to the little group outside, bearing a tray of drinks, it was to uproar.
Zoe took a glass of lemonade from her and muttered, ‘Biddy and Granddad are having a mega row. Turns out Biddy loaned Granddad some money for Daisy’s op and he’s got some beef about it coming from her,’ at this Zoe made speech marks with her fingers, ‘ill-gotten gains.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘As if!’
‘My good man,’ Biddy was roaring, ‘that money came from an ISA!’
‘I want no part of it. You can have it back.’
‘Come on, Granddad, if it means Daisy can have the operation,’ Zoe coaxed.
‘No, Zoe, I’ll return it.’ Arthur pulled himself up to his full five-feet five. ‘I’d rather take out a loan on the house than take dirty money.’
Biddy stood up, sewing materials dropping unheeded. Millie was relieved to see Jed grab Trevor’s collar and try to soothe him. The dog was dancing around, over-excited at the raised voices and she didn’t want a needle embedded in his paw.
‘Dirty money, you say,’ Biddy screeched, to the alarm of a family strolling on the prom. ‘Dirty money! Ah, yes, there’s always those who take that attitude. The ones who walk past you in the street, hanging on the arms of their wives and sneering at you. And you can be sure they’re the same men who come knocking at your door, wanting to be dressed in a nappy and bottle-fed!’ She gathered her stuff and shoved it into a plastic bag. ‘Millie, I will continue my sewing at home, if I may. I know where I’m not wanted!’
Whistling for Elvis to follow, she swept off, her nose in the air and scraps of material dangling out of the bag and sweeping a trail on the sandy pavement.
‘Granddad!’ Zoe cried. ‘Honestly, how could you?’
Arthur turned on her. ‘I do not want to take anything from a woman like that.’
‘What do you mean? She’s your friend. What she did in the past doesn’t change that.’
Not for the first time Millie admired Zoe’s wise, old head. Feeling the need to calm everything down, she said, ‘Come on, let’s sit down and have a cup of tea. Jed, can you take this tray, it’s making my arms ache.’ She nodded to the only other table they hadn’t got around to painting yet. ‘Put it on there, would you?’
He came to her and, relieving her of it, whispered in her ear, ‘What a shame Biddy’s gone. I’d rather hoped to hear more about what she did with the nettles.’
Millie gave him a withering look. ‘Sit down, Arthur, and have some tea. There you go,’ she passed him a mug. ‘It’s just how you like it. Strong and sugary.’
‘It all goes on in these seaside towns, doesn’t it? Who would have thought it of Biddy, of all people?’ Jed sat on the wall, looking highly amused.
‘I would for one,’ Zoe put in. ‘Have you seen the size of her house?’
Jed shook his head.
‘It’s the big one on the hill, just past the newsagents. You need to have done something interesting to bring in the filthy lucre to pay for that.’ She gave a knowing wink. ‘Hey, I guess we really are talking filthy lucre.’
‘Zoe, my girl, I would prefer you to stop talking like that,’ Arthur said, sharply.
‘Sorry, Granddad.’
The group sat in silence once more, reviewing their opinion of Biddy.
‘Wonder if she used dogs? In the business, I mean,’ Zoe piped up. ‘She said she’s always owned one.’
‘Zoe!’ Arthur roared.
‘Not helpful, Zoe,’ Millie admonished. She motioned for the girl to have another sandwich in the hope of shutting her up.
‘Is Daisy’s operation very expensive?’ Jed asked unexpectedly. He helped himself to a glass of lemonade and emptied it in two swallows.
Millie thanked him silently for changing the subject and then cursed as the question appeared to upset Arthur even more.
‘Yes,’ was the only answer Arthur could manage.
Millie saw his hands shake as they gripped his mug of tea. Some of it slopped out onto the white concrete. Sean and Ken, having grabbed a drink, edged away and went to sit on the wall at the far end of the terrace, ostensibly watching an impromptu cricket match taking place on the beach.
‘It’s likely to be about five thousand quid,’ Zoe said, when it became obvious Arthur couldn’t trust himself to explain further.
‘Jeez.’ Jed’s eyebrows
