by Cathy Sharp
‘Thanks, Jake,’ the man he’d thought of as a friend muttered. ‘The little blighter seemed content but then he suddenly bolted.’
‘Got more sense than some of ’em, then.’ Jake gave a harsh laugh. ‘You usually manage to get them inside afore they catch on.’
Danny struggled against his captors. He didn’t know why these men had tricked and then grabbed him, but he vaguely remembered his mother telling him to come straight home from school and not talk to strangers, because you couldn’t always trust them.
He was carried, struggling and protesting, inside the dingy house, which smelled bad of something he thought might be drains. Mum had battled against drains, armed with disinfectant and a scrubbing brush. After her death, Danny’s home had acquired an unpleasant tang but nothing like as bad as this – it was the old, foul smell of years of decay.
‘Let me go! I’ll tell me dad on yer,’ Danny threatened and continued to struggle as he was taken through a dark hall and up narrow stairs. He was banged unceremoniously against the wall and bannister and yelled as he felt the scrape of something on his arm. ‘Ouch, yer hurt me!’
‘Serves yer right,’ Jake said. ‘Keep yer trap shut and yer won’t get ’urt!’
‘I want ter go ’ome.’
‘Yer’ll do what yer told.’ He was suddenly put on his feet and a large hand connected with his ear. ‘Give me any trouble and I’ll make yer wish yer had never been born.’
Danny’s panic started to subside. Threats of this kind were normal in his home and it was the fear of the unknown that had made him panic and start running.
‘I’m thirsty,’ he complained.
‘Behave and mebbe I’ll give yer a glass of water.’
Danny decided that it might be best to keep quiet the way he had when his father was drunk. He had no chance of getting away while there were two of them guarding him – but if he got a chance he would run and next time he would make sure he slipped away unseen.
‘Put him in with the others,’ the man who had called himself Jim said. ‘I’m going out again, see what more I can find – we’re shipping them out in a couple of days.’
‘Supposing he plays up?’
‘You know what to do – give him some of the laudanum.’
Danny’s blood seemed to freeze. He knew that name – the doctor had given it to his mother for her pain. He’d seen her lying in a deep sleep, unable to focus or speak properly. It would be daft to risk that happening to him so he told himself to calm down and think. These men were bad, he knew that now, and he would do all he could to escape them – but he had to be clever.
One of them had unlocked a door and Danny was thrust inside; the door slammed behind him and he heard the sound of a key turning. His instincts were to fling himself at the wood and yell to be let out, but he controlled the urge. If he did that, they might give him that awful stuff that would make him go to sleep.
‘How did he get you then?’
Danny turned at the sound of the boy’s voice and saw that there were another three boys and a little girl in the bedroom, which had just a double bed and some blankets on the floor.
‘He gave me fish and chips. I was hungry …’
‘Yeah, I got a pork pie.’ The boy who was about Danny’s age grinned at him. ‘I were cold and ’ungry and I trusted the bugger.’
‘I did too, at first,’ Danny said and wrinkled his brow. ‘Why has he brought us ’ere?’
‘They’re gang masters,’ the boy said. ‘I’m Ron, by the way, and I’ve been on the streets for nine months since me ma copped it. They’ll send us off around London working for their lot, robbing and stealing, sometimes worse things … but I always told ’em to get lost – I really thought Bob was from the Sally Army.’
‘He told me his name was Jim …’ Danny frowned. ‘He’s a liar, ain’t he?’
‘Oh, he’s worse than that,’ Ron told him. ‘I feel sorry for them …’ He jerked his head at two of the younger boys. ‘They can’t look after themselves so well …’
Danny wasn’t sure what Ron meant, but he didn’t like the sound of it.
‘If they start on me,’ Ron said angrily, ‘I’ll kick ’em where it hurts and you want ter do the same – if we can get a knife we’ll stick ’em!’
Danny nodded. He’d liked Ron instantly and it made him feel better that he wasn’t alone. ‘We should stick together, all of us.’
‘Yeah,’ Ron said and looked grim. ‘But if I get a chance, I’ll hurt that bugger and I’ll be orf.’
Danny nodded, but his eyes were drawn to the other children, all of them younger than him, and he felt sorry for them as he saw the fear in their eyes. He wanted to run the way Ron said – but what would the other boys and that little girl do? She was such a pretty, delicate little thing and Danny felt sorry for her because she was clearly frightened and miserable, her face stained with tears.
Ron told him to sit down on one of the blankets and he sat next to him so they could talk.
‘Tell me how you left home,’ Ron said, ‘and I’ll tell yer my story.’
Danny nodded. The other children were quiet, looking at him and Ron and the little girl had inched nearer to them. Danny held out his hand to her and she came quickly to his side. He smiled and she leaned her thin little body against his stronger one. He felt protective towards her and the two boys who had been hurt but they huddled together, their eyes dark and haunted, not looking anywhere.
He silently vowed he would try to protect them if he could, but how could he and Ron prevail against men like the ruthless devils who had captured him and imprisoned him in this room? All he could do was wait and see what happened next …
CHAPTER 5
Rose walked into the kitchen of the mission hall and greeted the other helpers. She was given a pile of vegetables to clean and cook and set to with a will. They were serving cottage pie with extra vegetables – carrots, cabbage and baked onions – which were a favourite with the elderly folk who came to these lunches.
Once the food was cooked and the tables had been set, the doors were opened to admit the people who had been invited. They came in in ones and twos and greeted each other, enjoying the chance to gossip and meet friends as much as the good food they would be offered.
Rose started to serve as soon as they were all seated, because there were more than sixty people sitting down to a meal and it took several of them to get around the tables quickly enough to keep the food hot. She served her five tables and then, hearing a burst of loud laughter, looked towards a table nearer the door. Her heart stopped as she saw a man sitting down with some of the elderly ladies and knew him.
What was Peter Clark doing here? He’d been served with a portion of the cottage pie and was eating it, teasing and laughing with the old lady sitting next to him.
‘He’s lovely with them,’ Dora Nokes whispered in Rose’s ear. ‘Particularly with Jessie. She can be a bit of a tartar but he knows how to make her laugh.’
‘Yes, I can see that,’ Rose said and smiled. ‘Does he often come to these lunches?’
‘It’s the first time he’s been to a lunch but he turns up at all sorts of things,’ Dora said and smiled. ‘Apparently, Jessie wouldn’t come for the lunch unless he did so that is why he is here.’
Rose nodded, but she had no time to do more than send another glance at Doctor Peter’s table, because the old folk she’d served first had finished the first course and were waiting for pudding. Laughing to herself, she went off to collect used plates and then serve the tinned fruit and custard that was the favourite of many, followed by a cup of tea.
After serving was finished there was a mound of washing-up. Rose was helping to dry when a man’s voice spoke behind her.
‘Well done, Sister Rose,’ Peter Clark said, and she turned to look at him. ‘That was an excellent meal, everyone – I thank you on behalf of all of us.’ He clapped them and Rose saw the ladies blush and twitter amongst themselves, pleased and flattered that he’d com
e to the kitchen to thank them.
‘He was one of the men that first asked if we could organise a meal for the elderly,’ Dora told Rose in a whisper. ‘Works at the free clinic sometimes, so my husband says. Stan reckons he’s a good bloke – always helpin’ out where he can.’
Rose finished her work and walked over to Peter, smiling at him. ‘Your ladies seemed to enjoy themselves. They were laughing and looked so happy, especially the one sitting beside you.’
‘That’s Jessie,’ he said. ‘She says some strange things.’
Rose shook her head. ‘I think they were laughing at what you had to say!’
‘Perhaps I contributed a little,’ he replied. ‘Are you finished here now?’
‘Yes, I’m about to leave,’ Rose said and took her coat from the hook on the wall. She turned and waved, calling goodbye to those she’d worked with all morning. ‘I’m going home to change – and then to tea with some friends.’
‘Oh, that’s a pity.’ He looked disappointed. ‘I was going to ask if you’d like to have tea out somewhere with me?’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ Rose said, ‘but I have to hurry.’ She nodded to him and turned in the direction of her home. ‘Thanks all the same …’
Peter stood looking after her and she knew he was thinking she’d just turned him down for no good reason, but she’d stayed late at the mission hall and would only just have time to get changed before she was expected at Lily’s.
Peter stared after the woman he admired, feeling puzzled. She’d seemed warmer and more approachable today than when they worked together and so he’d mentioned going out to tea together but then she’d rushed off as if the devil was after her. Was it something he’d said or was she really in a hurry? He was never sure about Sister Rose.
Shaking his head, Peter started walking. He’d gone to the luncheon because Jessie had refused all invitations, even though she really needed a good meal. She lived on handouts from the Sally Army and the occasional couple of bob he gave her. Probably she got a shilling or a few coppers from other people who felt sorry for her, but the sort of food they’d been served that morning was what she needed. Asked to persuade her to accept what she denounced as ‘bleedin’ charity’, she’d demanded that he go along too and eat the same food.
‘If it’s all right for me it’s all right for you, doc,’ she’d declared, so he’d taken her challenge and eaten every bit of the food put in front of him. It was quite as good as anything he ate in the hospital canteen and he’d smiled as he’d cleared his plate and seen her do the same.
‘That was delicious,’ he’d declared as he finished and saw she’d enjoyed every scrap of her meal too.
‘It ain’t bad,’ Jessie admitted grudgingly. ‘I’ve tasted better in me time.’
‘Where was that, Jessie?’
‘I used to dine at the Ritz with my admirers,’ Jessie told him and winked. ‘Queued up at the theatre backstage to take me out they did – one of the best actresses of my day …’
‘I don’t doubt it,’ Peter replied and grinned. ‘I’ve seen you put on many an act, Jessie!’
She’d given a cackle of laughter. ‘Gawd, but you’re a green one,’ she said. ‘Tell you anythin’ and you’d believe me.’
‘Of course, I would, Jessie – why shouldn’t I?’ He’d winked at her saucily and seen her chuckle.
Peter knew that she had connections with the theatre but no one knew for sure just what she’d been or what she’d done. She might have been an actress or perhaps a dresser backstage for all he knew but she could strike a pose and she was a good mimic. She could make people laugh and he liked her a lot. Whatever her history, she’d fallen on hard times and now her home was wherever she could find a place to park her shabby old pram and sleep on the cardboard and blankets she carted around with her. She’d been offered various places in old folk’s homes but refused them all.
‘I need me freedom, doc,’ she’d told Peter once. ‘I’d die inside one of them places. I’m a wanderer – always have been and always will be.’
Peter knew better than to try and force her. She was just one of many who needed help and others were glad of the places she’d turned down. Peter, like others, did what he could to help those in need, but you could only do what they would let you do.
Sister Rose … his mind returned to the woman who was so often in his thoughts these days. He couldn’t have told anyone why he was so attracted to her. Certainly she was lovely to look at and he admired her work – and he liked it that she’d given up her Sunday morning to help the poor of the district – but it was more than that. It was as if there was an invisible string attached to her that had somehow got tangled up with his strings and wouldn’t let go, something that reached out from inside him to her.
He shook his head, laughing at his fanciful thoughts. Sister Rose had done nothing to encourage him to think of her as more than a colleague – so perhaps he should try looking at someone else for a change?
‘I’m not late, am I?’ Rose asked as she was admitted to Lily’s home and took off her coat. ‘There was a big crowd at the luncheon and it took longer to serve and wash up than I expected.’
‘Well, you’re here now,’ Lily said and drew her in towards the fire. ‘The wind is chilly out, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ Rose held her hands to the fire and looked around at the little front parlour. ‘This is nice, Lily. You and Jenny are so lucky to have your own home.’
‘It was Gran’s house originally,’ Lily replied and nodded her agreement. ‘She took us in when our parents died and kept what little money there was from my parents’ estate for us to see us through nursing school and then she left the house to us both.’
‘I’ve never had a home of my own,’ Rose said and sighed. ‘My parents always rented until they died and of course I moved into the accommodation at my first hospital while I trained. Beattie’s house is lovely and I’d like something of the sort one day – but I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to afford it.’ A house like her landlady’s was more expensive than she could ever afford on a nurse’s pay, even without the money she was still paying to support her mother.
‘We couldn’t have bought a house ourselves,’ Lily admitted. ‘We earn enough to have a few treats and enjoy life, but nursing wages don’t allow you to save much for a house, do they?’
They smiled at each other in perfect accord as Jenny brought in a tea tray. ‘Those scones look delicious, Jenny – did you make them?’
‘Lily did,’ Jenny said. ‘I made the sandwiches. Lily is a better cook than I am – though I can do a nice roast.’
‘Jenny is a good cook,’ Lily said and gave her sister a teasing look. ‘She is just too lazy to fiddle with anything that takes a bit longer.’
‘You!’ Jenny said and made a face. ‘When you can buy delicious fancy things from Lavender and Lace, I don’t see the point in spending hours baking a sponge cake.’
Rose smiled, enjoying the sisters’ banter. It was so nice to be with friends off duty. ‘My landlady, Beattie, adores cooking and spends hours making wonderful food. I was so lucky to find her.’
‘Yes, you were,’ Lily agreed. ‘Most of the nurses do nothing but complain about the food their landladies serve.’
‘I know,’ Rose replied, then, changing the subject, said, ‘Have either of you been to see Sarah yet? I wonder how she feels about being at home.’
CHAPTER 6
It seemed a bit strange to Sarah to be staying at home every day. Steve was a little preoccupied before he left that Monday morning and when she’d asked what was wrong, he’d shaken his head.
‘It’s just my work, love,’ he’d told her. ‘Nothing for you to worry about, Sarah. I should be home at the usual hour. Take care of yourself and don’t do too much.’
Sarah had smiled and kissed him, waving as he set off down the street. Everyone he met smiled and nodded to him, because he was well known in the district as a fair and capable officer of the law who to
ok an interest in young folk. In the evenings he helped to run a club for the youths who had nothing else to do other than stand on street corners. They gave boxing and self-defence lessons at the club and some of the members had won prizes at a regional level.
Sarah’s nice little modern police house took very little time to clean and she was too restless to just sit down and knit for the coming baby. So, when she’d finished her work, she pulled on her warm coat and went out, locking the front door behind her, and went off to visit her mother who had two foster children living with her at the moment – Charlie, who had recently left school and taken up an apprenticeship as a carpenter, and Ned, who had a delicate stomach and needed a special diet.
Gwen Cartwright loved being a foster mother. She’d said that she would be fine living alone but Sarah was much happier that her mother had company. She certainly helped the children but they saved her from being lonely in the long winter evenings and gave her something to occupy her time.
She was baking when Sarah arrived, her face lighting up as she saw her. ‘Sarah, love,’ Gwen said. ‘I was just thinking I’d pop round to see you when I’d got this batch cooked. How are you?’
‘It’s odd not going to the infirmary every day,’ Sarah told her with a smile. ‘How are you, Mum? Are the boys all right?’
‘Charlie is thrilled to bits to be working,’ Gwen told her and laughed softly. ‘He couldn’t wait to give me half his wages on Friday – I don’t really want to take his seven shillings, but he is determined to pay for his keep, bless him.’
‘Let him pay, Mum,’ Sarah told her with a smile. ‘You can save some of it for him and then one day, if he needs it, you can give it to him – or spend it on whatever he needs.’
‘Yes, that’s what I’ll do – I used to do the same with the money you gave me. It came in handy for your wedding.’
‘Yes, I know.’ Sarah went to put the kettle on as her mother took a batch of sweet-smelling coconut tarts and another of rock buns from the oven. Her mouth watered in anticipation because those tarts had hot strawberry jam beneath the layer of crisp coconut and were delicious. ‘Oh, my favourites!’