‘I think so. But Beck’s still in shock, poor girl. We’re all trying to be a bit nicer to her,’ Miriam added pointedly.
There was no mistaking the meaning behind the look she gave Eleanor, who glanced away guiltily.
‘Of course,’ she muttered.
Eleanor watched Anna as she went about her work for the rest of the day. She moved slowly, like someone in a trance, barely registering what was going on around her. Once or twice Eleanor thought about speaking to her, only to change her mind at the last minute.
She wanted to talk to Anna, to tell her how sorry she was, but how could she suddenly start speaking to someone she had pointedly ignored for so long? It seemed too awkward. But then so was staying silent.
She thought about it for a few days, wondering what to do. She watched the other girls fussing around Anna, sitting with her in the common room, having conversations in hushed tones. Eleanor was at a loss. She was hopeless at talking about feelings, or anything like that. It wasn’t something her family ever did. They just got on with it, did what needed to be done, with no fuss.
‘Actions speak louder than words,’ her father always said.
And so Eleanor decided to take action.
It was another two days before she had the chance to speak to Anna alone. There always seemed to be someone with her at the nurses’ home, and Eleanor didn’t want an audience. But on the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, Sister asked her to take some towels to the bathroom where Anna was running a mustard bath for a patient.
As she came into the room Anna looked up briefly at her, then turned back to what she was doing.
‘Sister asked me to bring these,’ Eleanor said over the sound of gushing water. ‘I’ll put them on the radiator to warm, shall I?’
Anna said nothing as Eleanor took her time arranging the towels. Eleanor watched her from the corner of her eye.
‘I heard what happened,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry.’
Anna was silent. Eleanor risked a glance at her. She was still bending over the bath, her gaze fixed on the running taps.
Eleanor hesitated for a moment, then said, ‘I have something for you.’ She took a few steps towards her, reaching into her apron pocket.
Anna looked over her shoulder at her. Her gaze fell to the envelope Eleanor was holding out to her.
‘I collected some money.’ The words came out in a rush. ‘It’s from all of us. For your family.’ She looked down at the envelope. ‘I know it’s not much, but it might help.’
Anna slowly lifted her gaze, and Eleanor found herself staring into a pair of cold brown eyes.
‘Keep it,’ she said.
Anna turned away, back to her work. Eleanor stared at her turned back. ‘But it’s for your family.’
‘We don’t need charity, especially from you.’
Eleanor was shocked. This was not what she had expected. ‘But I collected it for you,’ she murmured.
Anna reached over to turn off the taps. ‘The fire was started deliberately,’ she said. ‘They destroyed everything my father worked hard all his life to make.’ Her flat voice filled the bathroom, echoing off the tiled walls. ‘They came in the middle of the night when they knew we would all be there. They wanted to kill us.’ Anna looked up at her former friend. ‘They felt we deserved to die because our father is German.’
Anna stood up slowly. ‘So you can keep your charity,’ she said. ‘We don’t need anything from you.’
As Anna went to brush past her, Eleanor said helplessly, ‘But what shall I do with the money?’
Anna looked down at the envelope in her hand.
‘Give it to your mother,’ she said. ‘She can buy more wool to knit socks for soldiers.’
Anna didn’t know what made her return to Chambord Street on New Year’s Eve, a week after the fire.
It was the last day of 1914, the year her whole life had changed. When it began she had been so full of hope, newly engaged and utterly content with her life.
She could never have imagined what was to come, how the war was to take everything from her, until there were not even the smallest shreds of her old life left.
Perhaps that was why she had felt compelled to return here, to prove to herself that this was really happening and not some horrible nightmare.
Turning the corner and seeing the blackened shell of her father’s bakery was like a punch in the stomach all over again. The lingering smell of smoke still hung in the air. Someone had put planks of wood up at the broken windows, giving the shop a strange, blank look.
Anna went down the narrow alleyway that ran between Hudson’s the butcher’s and Herbert Morris’ draper’s shop, leading to the yards at the back. Mrs Hudson was bringing in the old tin tub for her husband’s bath. She regarded Anna silently as she let herself in at the gate and in through the back door.
In the fading afternoon light she could just distinguish the blackened walls, and the sooty patches where the flames had licked across the ceiling. Her father’s work table stood in the middle of the room, charred and blackened.
Anna ran her hand over it, feeling the hollows worn in its surface. It was the first thing Friedrich Beck had bought when he came to England. He loved it so much he’d always refused to replace it, even when its warped surface became bleached with age.
Tears spilled down her cheeks and she dashed them away.
Then a sound made her look up. Someone was moving about in one of the rooms overhead. As Anna froze, listening, the footsteps moved towards the stairs.
She snatched up a length of charred wood just as the door opened. She swung round, ready to fight, and came face-to-face with Tom, who was holding a brick in his hand.
She dropped the piece of wood. ‘Tom! What are you doing here?’
‘I thought I’d stay and guard the place.’ He lowered the brick. His chin was dark with stubble, his clothes rumpled. There were deep shadows under his eyes.
Don’t trust Tom Franklin. Once again, Edward’s words came back to her.
‘There’s not much to guard, is there?’
‘Even so, you don’t want anyone getting in. This is your home.’
Anna looked around her. ‘It isn’t though, is it?’ she sighed. ‘There’s nothing left. It’s all gone …’
She felt emotion rising in her chest and fought against it, determined not to cry again.
Tom looked away. She had embarrassed him with her show of emotion, she could tell. ‘I’ll be on my way,’ he muttered. ‘I’ve no business being here.’
‘No, stay. I’m not stopping long. I just wanted to have a last look round, before …’ She couldn’t finish the sentence.
She stepped past him into the hall, aware that Tom was following her.
‘How’s Mrs Beck and your sister?’ he asked gruffly.
‘They’re staying with our grandmother.’
He nodded. ‘It’s good they’ve got somewhere to go.’
Anna thought about her bullying grandmother, and her mother’s sad, defeated face. ‘I suppose so,’ she murmured. ‘How about you? What are you doing for money now you’re not working here?’
His chin lifted. ‘I get by.’
I’ll bet you do, Anna thought. Tom was a Franklin, after all. The less she knew about his activities, the better.
‘I’m surprised you haven’t enlisted,’ Anna said.
His expression darkened. ‘I ain’t no coward if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘I didn’t say you were.’
‘I’ve tried twice. But they’ve turned me down on account of my punctured lung.’
‘I didn’t know you had a lung puncture?’
He nodded. ‘Got into a fight when I was a kid.’
‘It must have been a nasty fight.’
‘It was.’ Tom’s face was grim. ‘But the other kid came off worse than me.’
I’m sure he did, Anna thought. She had only seen glimpses of Tom Franklin’s temper, but that had been enough for her to know she didn’t
want to see more.
As she headed for the stairs, Tom said, ‘Be careful. It ain’t safe up there. Some of the floorboards have burnt through.’
‘I’ll manage,’ she said, then stopped dead at the foot of the staircase. The first few steps were missing, consumed by the fire.
‘You have to go up the side, like this. Let me show you.’ Tom picked his way up the broken staircase easily, then reached back and offered her his hand. Anna hesitated, staring for a moment at his grimy fingers. Then she took his hand and let him pull her up after him.
Upstairs was worse than she remembered. The cold December wind whistled through the broken windows, turning the room to ice. Anna shuddered at the charred remains of what had once been her and Liesel’s bed. She hadn’t realised how close they had come to dying. Just another few minutes, and it would have been too late.
‘I never got a chance to thank you for saving us,’ she said.
Tom shrugged. ‘Anyone would have done it,’ he mumbled.
Don’t trust Tom Franklin.
‘Why were you there?’ she asked.
He didn’t answer at first, his shifty gaze dropping from hers. Then he said, ‘I was just passing.’
‘In the middle of the night?’
Mottled colour flushed his throat. ‘No law against being out, is there?’
Don’t trust Tom Franklin.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I suppose not. And it was a good thing for us you were passing, otherwise I don’t know what would have happened …’
‘Don’t,’ Tom said. ‘Don’t think about it.’
Anna looked around. ‘I don’t know how we’re going to break it to Papa,’ she said.
Tom said nothing.
Anna turned away. ‘I’ve seen enough,’ she said, gathering her coat more tightly around her. ‘I want to go home.’
As she moved towards the door he suddenly said, ‘I could put it right.’
Anna looked at him. ‘What?’
‘This place. I could rebuild it. Or I could try. I’ve done a bit of labouring work in the past.’
Anna gazed around her. ‘It would take more than a bit of labouring to put this place right.’
‘All the same, I’d like to have a go.’
‘But we’d need wood, and bricks, and tools – I’m not sure we could afford it.’
‘I could find what we need …’
Anna saw his evasive look, and realised she would be wise not to ask too many questions.
‘Why would you want to do it?’ she asked.
‘For your father. He’s a good man. He don’t deserve any of this.’
For a moment their eyes met. The next minute Tom had turned away, shuffling his feet. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled. ‘It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t get involved.’
He cringed like a whipped dog, Anna thought. One that expected a boot in its ribs for wagging its tail.
‘I’d like you to try,’ she said. ‘Thank you, Tom.’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‘I, Sadie Lilian Sedgewick, swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God.’
As she rested her right hand on the leather-bound Bible, Sadie made sure she looked across the courtroom at Jimmy Clyde. He sat in the dock, flanked by police officers. He glared back at her with cold blue eyes. He was trying to frighten her, Sadie thought. But he was the one who should be scared. He was going to be locked away for a very long time.
She would make sure of it.
Where were his powerful friends now? she wondered. The public gallery was empty, except for Belle and Lily. Belle was grim-faced, done up to the nines as usual, her face powdered, a tattered fur around her shoulders. Lily sat beside her, thin as a wraith, staring down at her hands in her lap.
Sadie wished her mother would look up and meet her eye, just for a moment. I’m doing this for you, she wanted to shout across the courtroom at her.
After she had finished giving her evidence, Sadie stepped out of the courtroom to get some fresh air. Peter Machin had promised to come and find her before sentencing took place. He said it shouldn’t be too long, but Sadie was determined to wait, even if it took all day. She wanted to see the moment Jimmy Clyde was taken away.
It was a freezing cold January day and people hurried by on the city streets, heads down against the cold. Sadie pulled her coat closer, her breath curling in the frosty air. Even after a couple of minutes, she could feel the tip of her nose stinging with cold.
She walked around the block, stamping her feet and rubbing her gloved hands together to help keep them warm. As she returned to the court, she saw Belle emerging from the building. She walked to the corner of the street and stood still to light a cigarette.
‘Belle?’
She looked round sharply as Sadie approached her, the cigarette clamped between her lips.
‘Oh, it’s you.’
‘What’s going on? Have I missed the verdict?’
‘Should be any minute, they reckon.’ Belle exhaled, narrowing her eyes against the cigarette smoke. ‘You did it, then? You stood up and gave evidence.’
‘I said I would, didn’t I?’ She looked around. ‘Where’s Ma?’
‘In the courtroom. She wanted to see it all.’
‘Yes, I saw her weeping in the dock.’ Sadie curled her lip.
Belle took another long drag on her cigarette. ‘We ain’t seen much of you lately.’
‘Do you wonder, after she threw me out of the house at Christmas?’
‘You know what your mother’s like. She didn’t mean it.’ Belle paused. ‘She misses you,’ she said.
‘Then why ain’t she out here telling me that herself?’
Belle shook her head. ‘Because she’s too bloody proud, that’s why.’
‘Proud!’ Sadie was scornful. ‘What’s my mother got to be proud about?’
As Belle opened her mouth to answer, the door swung open and Peter Machin appeared. Sadie hurried towards him.
‘Peter?’
‘There you are.’ He cocked his head. ‘They’re ready.’
Sadie felt a quickening in her chest. She turned to Belle. ‘Well, this is it.’
‘This is it,’ Belle repeated. Then, in a low voice, she added, ‘Let’s hope for all our sakes they lock him up and throw away the bloody key.’
‘Five months? Is that all?’
‘Five months’ hard labour,’ Peter corrected her, but Sadie wasn’t listening.
‘It ain’t long enough,’ he said. ‘You promised me he’d be locked away for at least three years.’
‘I know. I’m sorry.’ Peter looked apologetic. ‘But he had alibis.’
‘Two thugs stood up and lied for him in court, you mean?’
‘The jury believed them.’
‘And what about the evidence? They didn’t believe that, did they?’
Peter shook his head. ‘They reckoned it could have come from anywhere.’
‘They made it sound like I planted it, like I had a grudge against him.’ Sadie pulled off her gloves and chewed on her thumbnail.
‘He had a good solicitor. The best, thanks to his mate Billy Willis.’
‘Billy Willis looks after his own, all right.’ Hot tears of frustration pricked her eyes and Sadie blinked them back determinedly. ‘So Jimmy’ll be out by the summer?’ she said.
‘It looks like it. I’m sorry, Sadie.’
‘And what good’s sorry going to do?’ She turned on him, then saw the hurt in his brown eyes. Being angry with him was like kicking a puppy. ‘I’m sorry, Peter, I know it ain’t your fault.’ She sighed. ‘I’m just a bit upset, that’s all.’
‘I know. And I really am sorry. Believe me, there’s nothing we would have liked more than to see him behind bars for a long time.’ He paused for a moment, then said, ‘Look, I know this probably ain’t the time, but I wondered …’
Just at that moment Sadie spotted her mother coming out of the courtroom, leaning on Belle’s arm.
‘Sorry, Peter, I’ve got to go.’
‘Sadie, wait!’ he called after her. But she was already sprinting down the stairs after her mother, one hand clamping her hat to her head, her coat flying behind her.
They had reached the street before she caught up with them. Belle spotted her first. She turned around and stepped between Sadie and her mother.
‘Not now, love,’ she said gently. ‘Lily wants to go home.’
Sadie ignored her, shouldering past to face her mother. ‘Ma? Ma, look at me.’
The minute Lily Sedgewick reluctantly raised her gaze, Sadie knew she had been drinking again. Her eyes were bloodshot in her haggard face.
Lily tried to turn away but Sadie grasped her arms, forcing her to stay still. They were thin as a child’s.
‘Ma, you’ve got to leave him,’ Sadie said urgently. ‘This is your chance. You’ve got to get away.’
Her mother stared at her. She looked lost, dazed, as if she was struggling to place her daughter’s face.
‘I’ve been saving,’ Sadie went on. ‘I’ve got some money put by. It ain’t much, but it should be enough to set you up somewhere out in the country, far away from here. You could start a new life. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’
Lily shook her head listlessly. ‘I can’t.’
‘Ma, listen to me. You’ve got to go. We ain’t got that long, so we’ve got to make plans.’
‘I ain’t going anywhere, Sadie. I’m going to be here, waiting for Jimmy when he gets back.’
Sadie stared at her in despair. ‘What are you saying? You want to stay with him, after everything he’s done to you?’
‘You wouldn’t understand.’ Her mother’s voice was flat and tired.
‘That’s enough.’ Belle stepped between them, gently extricating Lily from Sadie’s grasp. ‘Your mother’s had a long day. She needs to rest.’
Sadie watched in frustration as Belle put her arm around Lily’s shoulders, leading her away.
‘No, you’re right, I wouldn’t understand,’ Sadie called after them. ‘I don’t understand how you can turn your back on me, after everything I’ve done for you. I went to court for you, got him locked up. Now I’m offering you the chance of a new life, and you don’t want to know. You’re so bloody besotted by Jimmy Clyde, you’d rather stay and be a punchbag for him than learn to stand on your own feet. You’re pathetic! Pathetic and weak—’
A Nightingale Christmas Promise Page 23