The Bondage of Love

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘I’ll get out all right, and you’ll go with me, missis. You bloody dirty bitch, you.’ Inside himself, he seemed to be back in Bog’s End, for now he was spewing out words that he had not used for years. ‘By, Mamie, you’ve got something to answer for, and you will!’

  ‘I won’t! I won’t! I’m not coming back. She’ll go for me; they’ll all go for me. I’m going to me grandfather’s. I hate you! I hate you all!’

  ‘You’ll go to your grandfather’s all right.’

  He was about to grab her when the woman came at him with fists flying. But turning on her, he brought his arm up swiftly and the next minute she was on her back. Mamie was disappearing through a door at the far end of the room; and when he, too, rushed through it, he was surprised to find himself in a broad stone-paved passage, the other side of which he straight away surmised as being the end wall of the factory. At the same time a man dropped a box he must have been carrying through the door, in order to grab at Mamie by the neck of her coat and drag her through the doorway.

  Without hesitating, Sammy rushed into the room, to stop dead at the sight of what he was now gazing upon. But it was a momentary flash only before the man, having thrown Mamie to one side, came at him and knocked him sideways with a blow to his shoulder.

  What followed was pandemonium. Someone screamed, ‘Shut that bloody door!’ Then another man came at him, only to find his head knocked backwards from a blow under the chin, and then to double up when a foot came into his groin.

  Sammy had learned some time ago that the gentle art could be anything but gentle, when circumstances demanded. And now, indeed, circumstances demanded, for yet another man came at him. He had actually laid him on his back when the bottle hit him on the side of the head. Had the man’s aim been true he would have gone down immediately; it knocked him dizzy and he reeled, but it was enough. It was when he hit the floor face downwards and felt his arms wrenched behind him that he came to fully again. And then his legs were bent back from the knees and tied together. When he was kicked onto his side, and his mouth opened in a yell of pain, it was choked by a gag of net cloth.

  He was lying against the wall now and looking towards the table over which hung a green shaded light, similar to those he knew were used in newspaper offices. He could see a man gathering up little bags from the table and throwing them into a box, while another carefully picked up glass tubes. He couldn’t see where these were put, but recalling his first glimpse of the table, he guessed what had been afoot in this room.

  When he heard the door open the woman’s voice came to him, saying, ‘God Almighty!’ And a man’s replying, ‘Aye, God Almighty! This is you and your bloody sideline, missis.’

  ‘Be careful who you’re talking to, Johnny Hatter. My sideline has paid well before and it will again. In the meantime, get yourself into the house and clear the drawers, and not into boxes but into the travelling case. And take them to the Brunch.’

  ‘Oh, no, Mrs Polgar. You know what the boss said before: he’s got his name to think about and his business.’

  ‘If he upsets Polgar he knows what’ll happen. So, get going. And you, Napier, clean this place up as you’ve never cleaned a room before, for when that thing down there is missing, they’ll even be looking under the flagstones.’

  When the door behind Mrs Polgar closed, one of the voices said softly, ‘We can’t take all this lot to the Brunch.’

  ‘Well, you heard what the lady said, didn’t you? God! How I hate women. Anyway, all this must be cleared, as she said, because when the boss comes back, there’ll be double hell to pay. And also her bloody market stall. He should have put his foot down about that.’

  ‘It’s a good cover-up, but she must have a pile stacked away just from that.’

  A voice broke in on the other two, crying angrily, ‘This is no bloody time to go on about finance. What are we going to do with that bugger down there?’

  ‘Well, you heard what she said.’

  ‘Aye, and she’s right. He’s seen the lot of us.’

  ‘Well, he won’t be able to remember much. Get a dose ready; the sooner you give it to him the better. And the other one too.’

  ‘Will we leave him here?’ said Breezy.

  ‘Why did they ever give you such a nickname; your bloody brains blew away years ago.’

  There was a short silence before a voice said, ‘You’ve got the day’s paper there?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘See what time high tide is.’

  There was another silence. ‘One o’clock.’

  ‘Aye, well, that’ll just give us time. Is that needle ready?’

  When the dark shape bent over Sammy, he wriggled within his bonds. But when he felt the top of his trousers torn down and the needle jammed viciously into his buttocks his groan became audible. A voice above him asked now, ‘Was it a stiff ’un?’ And the answer was, ‘Well, if I’d given it to a horse, he wouldn’t be running the morrow.’

  There was a swimming in his head; then his body jerked when he imagined he saw his father kneeling by his side. ‘Dad! Dad!’ he muttered. ‘Get me out of this!’

  ‘You walked into it, lad. You walked into it.’

  ‘I didn’t, Dad. I didn’t. It was Mamie.’

  ‘Yes, it was Mamie. But what you should have done was to go home and tell them first.’

  ‘Oh, Dad. Dad. You wouldn’t have done that, would you?’

  ‘No, lad. No, I wouldn’t have done it.’

  ‘Dad! Don’t go away. Don’t go away.’

  ‘Here’s my hand. Hang on.’

  He felt the hand in his as he said, ‘I…I can’t see you, Dad, I can’t see you. Don’t go away. I’m…I’m sleepy. They’ve drugged me. This is a drug set-up. Packing it to sell in the streets, Dad. To sell in the streets, Dad. To sell in the streets, Dad.’

  ‘Yes, lad. Yes, lad. Yes, lad.’

  His father was going; he was leaving him. He wanted him to go and tell Katie. ‘Oh, Katie. Katie.’

  Then the apparition had gone and there was nothing. It was as if he had never been born …

  Breezy looked down on Sammy now, saying, ‘He’s off! Now what about her?’ His head jerked backwards.

  ‘Oh well; just give her a good stiff ’un too; then leave her to the missis. She’s her responsibility.’

  Seven

  The Gallaghers were pushed for space in all ways, but mostly in their sleeping quarters.

  In what was described as the third bedroom, but should have had the title of boxroom, were two bunk beds, one on top of the other. Mike Gallagher had the lower bunk and young Danny the upper.

  Danny liked this room for a number of reasons. First, because he was sharing it with a brother who didn’t talk, whereas when he had been in the main bedroom he’d had to take the foot of a bed; and here he could listen to his old CB radio without disturbing Mike. He loved listening to the lorry drivers, but more especially to the police. If he could pick up the right wavelength, he could hear the police chasing the car thieves, and passing messages to one another. It was exciting. Sometimes he fell asleep with the earphones on. He had bought it from a fellow for twenty pence, who had said it was worth thirty pounds. His dad had been angry about it; ‘Who but a fool would sell an article worth thirty pounds for twenty pence,’ he jeered at him, ‘and who but a fool would pay for something that had been thrown away as useless?’ Anyway, it went at times, and tonight was one of the times: the police had been chasing a load of fellas in a car. He turned the tuning knob to find a local station.

  It must be twelve o’clock now because the late news had just started. He liked listening to the news. It wasn’t often they had news on downstairs on the telly, because his da got aggravated about things and would shout about them, so his mother would switch over.

  But the news he was listening to now brought him up in his bunk, and he said aloud, ‘Eeh!’ That lad was here on Saturday. He came with the girl and her brother. His da had got on well with the girl; his ma couldn’
t get over how his da kept talking about her.

  His chin dropped lower and lower, as he listened. The police were taking it very seriously and they had found the girl. Not the one who was here, but the adopted sister. She had been drugged. And the announcer was saying that the police thought the young man was in danger. His eyes widened as he listened. It was about drugs. The police had raided the house and found the girl drugged. She was in hospital now but hadn’t come round. They had been searching the river.

  He suddenly shut off the man’s voice. The river. The river. Yes; he remembered now. Those men they could just make out in the dim light near the jetty, probably dumping something, before hurrying away in a van. He had wanted to go down straight away to see what they had been up to, but Jean was frightened and she had said, ‘Don’t tell me da, but we’ll go early in the morning before we go to school and have a look.’

  He turned onto his knees, then put his thumb in the end of his mouth and gnawed on it. Their Mike had been snoring for the last hour. But…but he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he didn’t tell somebody, and Mike rarely went for him, like he did for the rest of them.

  He dropped down from the bunk and, bending over Mike, shook him gently by the shoulder, saying, ‘Mike! Mike!’

  Mike grunted, made a spluttering noise in his throat, then said, ‘Who? What? What is it? Oh, you! You sick?’

  ‘No. No, Mike. Listen!’

  ‘It’s too late and I’m tired. Listen to what?’

  ‘It…it could be serious, Mike.’

  Mike pulled himself up on his elbows and peered at Danny, and he said, ‘What could be serious? What’s the matter with you? Had a nightmare?’

  ‘No. No, Mike. But…but we came by the shore road tonight when we came back from the pictures, and we’re not allowed to come that way. And…and…well…’

  By the time Danny finished talking, Mike was sitting on the edge of the bunk, saying, ‘You heard this on the police news?’

  ‘No, on the local news.’

  It seemed to Danny there was a long silence before he heard Mike say, ‘Get into your clothes.’

  ‘Yes, Mike.’

  A few minutes later, he said, ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Into Da.’

  ‘Into Da?’

  ‘Aye, of course. We’re not going out of the house on what could be either a fool’s errand or the real thing. We’ll leave it to him.’

  They went quietly out onto the landing and gently opened their parents’ bedroom door and switched on the light.

  It was his mother who woke first, saying, ‘In the name of God! Am I seeing right?’ She was peering through sleep-rimmed eyes. ‘What’s the matter with you two?’

  Mike was whispering now, ‘The young ’un here has heard something on the radio and it’s to do with the visitors we had on Saturday.’

  ‘Ah! Ah!’ It was a grunt from the bed. Then Annie Gallagher, pushing her husband, said, ‘Wake up there, Len, and listen to this.’

  Len Gallagher pulled himself slowly up on the pillow and he blinked at the two figures standing to the side of him, and he asked quietly, ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  ‘I want you to listen to this, Da. He’ll tell you what he heard on the news just now. But it’s the last bit he’s got to come out with. He and Jean have been where they shouldn’t have been. But they saw something. Anyway’—Mike nudged Danny—‘tell Da.’

  The boy started where he first heard the announcer. But when he said, ‘I know we shouldn’t go by the shore road at night,’ Len said, ‘No, begod! You shouldn’t. You haven’t, have you?’

  There was a pause before Danny admitted softly, ‘Aye, Da. After we came out of the early pictures we went that way.’ But before Len could come back with any reproach, Mike quickly put in, ‘They saw men carrying something under the jetty down to the waterline. And it’s high tide tonight, or this morning, and I think we should inform the pollis. What d’you think?’

  ‘Yes, we should, and quick, because, you, boy, know more about that jetty than is good for you. But at this moment, perhaps we should be thanking God. Let me get up and get into me things.’

  ‘You’re not doing any such thing, Len. You’re not going out this night, not in that freezing cold. It would finish you.’

  ‘Ma’s right, Da. But look; we’ve got into our things; I’ll take the lad to the station. It might be a wild goose chase and they’ll laugh in my face.’ Then he muttered, ‘But for their own sakes, I hope they don’t.’

  ‘Now, now, our Mike. Whatever happens, keep your temper. You know the pollis.’

  ‘Oh, yes, Ma, I know the pollis.’

  ‘And…and you wrap up, both of you.’

  Len put in, quietly, ‘Take my topcoat off the back of the door, it’s thicker than yours.’

  ‘I’ll do that, Da.’

  ‘And put another scarf around Danny there,’ said his mother. ‘Anyway, I’ll come down and let you out the back door, because you don’t want to waken Daisy, for as sure as two pins, she’ll be down to the station with you. And don’t either of you speak until you’re out of the house. If they hear me, they won’t get up, any of them, ’cos I’m used to trotting about in the middle of the night looking after your da, aren’t I?’

  Within a matter of minutes they were in the street, and ten minutes later they were entering Fellburn’s main police station.

  The night policeman stared at them, and said, ‘Yes? What’s your trouble?’

  And Mike, being Mike, had to retort, ‘It isn’t our trouble, it’s your trouble, and we may be able to help. I don’t know, but we thought we’d better take a chance.’

  ‘Well, if you tell me what you want me to decide on, then I might help you, sir.’

  That ‘sir’ got Mike’s dander up immediately. God! How he hated these buggers.

  ‘Me brother here, saw something that wasn’t for his eyes apparently, when coming along the beach road earlier on the night: men dumping something rather heavy. It could have been rubbish or it could have been a body. He was listening to the midnight news when he should have been asleep, and he hears the announcement about the missing young lad and the girl, and being bright he puts two and two together. How bright he really is remains to be seen, but I thought I should come and tell you. Have you got that?’

  The policeman stared at him for a moment and said, in a different tone now, ‘Take a seat over there, please. I’ll get in touch with the sergeant.’

  Five minutes later the sergeant came into the office and, addressing Mike, he said, ‘Good evening, sir.’

  Dear, dear! What a change of front. Mike made no retort to this and the sergeant went on, ‘The officer tells me that your brother might have some lead that will help us in our search for this missing young man?’

  ‘Aye, that’s why we’re here.’

  The sergeant was looking down at Danny and he said, ‘Could you take us to the exact place and the particular jetty where it happened?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  The sergeant now turned from him, said something to the officer, who then picked up a phone, and it would seem that almost instantly the door opened and two policemen entered.

  ‘Take this gentleman and this boy to the car,’ the sergeant said. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute.’ He again turned to the night officer and said, ‘Get Fuller and Stoddard. Tell them to meet us on the shore road, the jetty end.’

  Within fifteen minutes, Danny and Mike were leading the policemen down the bank to the jetty, and Danny was seeing it as he had never seen it before, illuminated by headlights and powerful torches. The tide was within twenty minutes of reaching its height when they climbed through the girders. The sergeant flashed his light from side to side, but saw nothing at first, then concentrated his light along the edge of the rough rising water splashing against the timbers, and almost immediately let out an exclamation: there below him, already half-covered with sea water and moving slackly, was a long black bundle, distinguished only by a lighter pat
ch sticking out at one end. He was up to his calves in the mud and water when he yelled, ‘Come on! Get down here!’

  It took three pairs of hands to drag the bundle from the hungry incoming tide and over the mud to where Mike and Danny were standing as though rivetted, their mouths open, as they stared down at half of the illuminated, dead-looking face.

  Eight

  All the lights were on in the house. Fiona and Nell and Katie were in the drawing room. But the door was open to the hall while they waited for the sound of the car.

  Bill, Willie, Mark and Bert Ormesby had been out searching since seven o’clock, when Katie had come home in distress, saying she had waited and waited for Sammy until six o’clock when Mr Fenwick closed the shop. So, something was wrong.

  When Bill had come in, he had phoned Mr Fenwick and heard that gentleman relating how young Master Love had hurried out of the shop as if he were running after somebody he had just missed. But the two previous customers to leave the shop had been just young girls.

  The lead had started there, because when Fiona got in touch with the school to say that they would be a little late picking up Mamie, she had been informed that Mamie had left school at the usual time. And, no, there had been no rehearsal arranged for that evening. This new piece of information given to the police, who had been informed that the young man and the girl were missing, had led them to Mrs Polgar’s house, only to find the house empty, but with signs of a hurried departure showing. It was when they broke into the joinery factory that they found the particular windowless room behind the joinery shop, and the girl, drugged and trussed up.

  Bill had phoned to tell them this. Also that he was at the hospital, as were the police, waiting for Mamie to recover. She had been washed out; otherwise she would have surely died.

  Fiona was saying to Katie, ‘You go to bed, dear; you’ve got to go to school tomorrow.’ And to this, Katie replied quickly, ‘I am not going to school tomorrow, Mam. If anything’s happened to Sammy, I’ll never go to school again. I mean that…I mean that.’