The Orphan Daughter

by Sheila Riley

  ‘Don’t worry, Evie, we won’t always be poor.’ Jack’s voice was low, his eyes hooded, staring at his empty bowl so she could not gauge his expression. ‘One day we’ll be able to buy fresh chicken, plucked and cleaned ready to go straight into the oven whenever we please.’

  Evie gave a small cynical laugh. ‘I couldn’t imagine being that rich, chicken is expensive.’ She had eaten it only when Leo Darnel brought it in from who knew where?

  ‘That was deeeelicious!’ Lucy sat back in her chair and rubbed her stomach. ‘Thank you, Evie.’

  ‘Do you want more toast, or more porridge, Lucy?’ Evie asked and smiled when Lucy shook her head and said, ‘I’m as full as an egg, I think I’ll draw.’ Then looking at the box the child asked, ‘Can we have chicken for tea tonight?’

  ‘Of course you can, Lucy,’ Evie said, glad they had something to look forward to, Tonight they would feast. Tomorrow she would make soup with the carcass.

  She had seen Leo Darnel on the bridge, mingling with the crowd. Was the gift box a bribe, perhaps? To keep her mouth shut about all the things she knew. About him and his bent business dealings? Evie focused on the smoke stain above the fireplace. She would have to keep her wits about her. Lucy would need watching.

  The child had another nightmare, last night… And she was sure all this talk of a good shepherd was mere childish imagination. What if Darnel had sent someone to keep an eye on all of them? Questions. So many questions.

  ‘What made you go down to the canal, Luce?’ Evie’s hands curled around her teacup to stop them from shaking as she watched Lucy shift in her chair.

  ‘Bobby saw something in the water, and we went to have a little nose around.’

  ‘It’s not safe down there, you must promise me you will not go there again.’ Lucy promised and Evie said, for good measure, to make sure her sister got the message: ‘You never know, you might meet the bogeyman.’

  ‘Been listening to Valentine Dyall on the wireless, Evie?’ Jack smiled, at one with the world now his belly was full. ‘You’re as bad as she is. You know our Lucy’s overactive imagination springs to attention every time she reads an Enid Blyton, and yours does too, when you listen to The Man In Black.’

  ‘I’m trying to keep her safe the only way I know how, Jack.’ Evie’s lowered voice was determined, as Lucy sat on the sofa drawing. ‘If I have to scare the living daylights out of her to save her life then I will.’

  ‘I drew a picture of Timmy, too’ Lucy said. ‘Shall I show you?’ Jack and Evie nodded, and she produced the unlined drawing book Jack had given her. Evie’s mouth fell open with surprise when she saw a rumpled mongrel dog whose beautiful dark eyes seemed to twinkle on the page.

  ‘Did you draw this, Lucy?’ Evie asked, and Lucy nodded, her eyelids fluttering like butterfly wings in flight.

  ‘I don’t know where you two got the talent from, I can’t draw breath.’ They all laughed as she took the boiling kettle off the fire and went out to the back-kitchen to wash the dishes. Jack stood by her side, and wiped as she washed.

  ‘There’s something I have to tell you, Evie.’ Jack’s tone was sombre. ‘I don’t want you losing your rag over this, because I’ve decided.’ He put down the faded tea towel, some parts of it so thin you could see through it.

  ‘Here’s another picture for you, Evie!’ An excited sing-song giggle tucked into the nooks of Lucy’s words and Evie wanted to tell her ‘not now.’ But Jack shook his head.

  ‘I’ll tell you later,’ his expression told her – he didn’t want Lucy to hear what he had to say.

  ‘Righto,’ Evie said drying her hands, ‘let’s have a look at what you’ve done, Luce.’ What was so important that Jack wanted it kept secret? Taking hold of Lucy’s drawing, every nerve, every muscle, every sinew in her body jarred as panic screamed through her veins.

  ‘He’s my good shepherd,’ Lucy said innocently.

  ‘If Rene drowned, her lungs would be full of water. Her body would have floated to the top, and she would have been discovered before the water froze over.’ Angus said. His words were low in the telephone box. ‘As it is, there was no water in her lungs. She died elsewhere, and her body placed in the water later.’

  Connie remembered that freezing night when the first snow came. ‘One minute, Rene was here, dancing with a Yank and having a good time,’ her voice cracked. ‘Then, when I looked for her to come and help behind the bar, she’d left.’

  ‘I’m just going to inform them,’ Angus said. In his professional capacity, he had given the same news to many people. However, this case was too close to home.

  ‘At this hour?’ Connie looked at the clock. It had gone midnight. Angus nodded. ‘Then I will come with you.’

  ‘Was that the night she died do you think?’ Connie asked Angus as they left the tavern.

  ‘We can pinpoint it to that night because it was the night the canal froze over.’

  He had his eye on the target. But couldn’t let the Kilgarens know he was lodging in a back-street boozer to gain evidence, until his suspect was hooked. Nor could he risk Mim finding out he was a detective, because, as sure as eggs made omelettes, his main source of information would clam up and ship him out if she knew who he really was.

  ‘Poor Evie,’ Connie whispered as tears flowed. ‘Orphaned and left to bring up two kids. She’s barely a kid herself.’

  Evie felt her pulse quicken when there was a firm ran-tan on the front door. Jack went to answer it and when he came back into the kitchen accompanied by Connie and Angus. Evie noticed Connie’s smudged mascara and wondered if she had been crying. And the strangest thing, Angus was holding her hand.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Evie asked. ‘Come in, come in’ She stood aside, holding the door open to allow Connie and Angus into the narrow hallway, outside the rain was drizzling down.

  ‘We’ve got something to tell you, Evie.’ Connie’s voice was low and cracked with emotion. Evie knew immediately they weren’t here on a social visit. Connie could barely look at her while Angus removed his trilby and seemed to be guiding her towards the kitchen.

  ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you this.’ His voice sombre, Angus stood below the gas mantle in the centre of the room, his full six feet two inches casting dark shadows on the wall as Connie reached for his hand once more. ‘The body in the water was your mother.’

  Tears were running freely down Connie’s attractive face, now red and blotchy, and all Evie could think was, did she have enough coppers for the gas meter? She didn’t speak for a moment, remembering that grey, distended… thing that was pulled out of the water. It didn’t look human. How could it possibly be her mother?

  ‘No, it couldn’t be,’ Evie sounded very matter-of-fact and spoke to Connie like she was a child. ‘You see, Mam always comes back.’ Evie saw Connie grip Angus’ hand, and that one small gesture sent a hammer blow to her stomach – her legs weren’t strong enough to hold her. Someone had sucked the air out of her lungs, and she was gasping.

  Her life had changed in the short time since she opened the front door! She lost track of what was being said to her. Bewildered by the shocking finality of her mother’s death.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Evie said eventually, heading to the scullery, and Connie followed her automatically filling the kettle at the copper tap.

  She must keep going. Act normal. For the kids’ sake. She could hear Angus talking to Lucy in the next room. Connie was talking too, but Evie couldn’t make sense of the words. She felt ice seize the core of her body and she began to shake. Jack put his arm around her. She was not fine. Nothing would ever be the same again.

  ‘You’re strong enough for everybody, Evie.’ Connie’s words were meant to soothe her. Evie knew that. But they didn’t. Instead, in that moment, she knew all her hopes and dreams of bettering herself and getting out of the backstreets had suddenly exploded into smithereens. She had other, more permanent responsibilities now.

  ‘Lucy needs you to be strong,’ Jack said gently.
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  ‘I know,’ Evie whispered, ‘and I’ll never let her down. You can depend on me.’ But who did she have to depend on?

  ‘The authorities are carrying out a full investigation,’ Connie said, taking over making the tea. ‘But between me and you, going by the marks around her neck, your mam’s death was no accident.’

  ‘I would never have expected Mam to fall in the water, drunk,’ Evie felt stunned, hearing the words said out loud. ‘She could take her drink – she used to say she had hollow legs.’

  Connie, the feisty landlady who could clear the bar as good as any man, was dabbing her tear-filled eyes. Jack went back into the other room and Evie suddenly felt the need to know everything. Every little detail.

  ‘Please Connie, I need to know. Tell me.’ Evie asked the woman who had become a good friend. Connie nodded her head.

  ‘But please don’t say a word about Angus,’ Connie said, ‘especially not to Mim.’

  ‘I won’t. I know how important he is to you.’ Evie took a deep breath. ‘What a bloody mess.’

  Mim, stirring her morning cup of tea and still in her tartan housecoat, heard a heavy ran-tan on the side door. She hadn’t had time to take her curlers out before Ada Harris ran in with the news.

  ‘Have you heard the latest!’ Ada was breathless, as if she had run all the way. Mim nodded to the straight-backed chair as she poured her friend a cup of tea, noting there was no sign of an injured ankle.

  ‘Angus told us all about it,’ Mim said, aloof. ‘He knows about these things, on account of being in insurance. He’d seen the body and everything.’ So stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Ada Harris. ‘Those poor Kilgaren kids are orphans now,’ Mim said before she passed on all the gory details, adding a few more for good measure.

  ‘Strangulated only yards from her own front door,’ Ada had a faraway look in her eyes, imagining the scene. Trust bloody Mim to get the news first.

  ‘The body was quite emancipated,’ Mim said, thrilled she had surpassed the local gossip.

  ‘Well, it would be, wouldn’t it?’ Ada said, the edges of her thin lips puckering in disgust knowing Mim would milk this latest news for all it was worth.

  Don’t faint, Evie thought, resting a freshly cut slice of bread on the fire fender with a toasting fork. She had never fainted in her life, but when her skin prickled with clammy heat, and her vision darkened she feared losing control.

  ‘Aren’t you having any?’ Jack asked when she gave him and Lucy their supper.

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ Evie said. Connie had dipped in and out all day, making sure they were all coping.

  ‘You must eat, Evie. It doesn’t matter how upset you are, you must try to get something down. An empty sack won’t stand.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Evie said, ‘don’t you worry about me.’

  Evie watched Lucy finish her supper of buttered toast and hot malted milk, her young eyes growing heavy as they gazed into the flickering flames of the coal fire, and Evie knew she could never, would never desert her family. These two youngsters were the most important people in her world. Ambition came a poor second to the wellbeing of her family.

  In no time at all Lucy was asleep. Connie had suggested sending Lucy next door, to her mother. Mim loved company and would squeeze every last drop of information out of the child by way of innocent conversation. But she wanted Lucy here, by her side, tonight.

  ‘Murdered? Holy mother of God!’ Jack’s handsome face drained to ashen when they discussed the news.

  ‘They think so’ Evie said, still hardly able to believe it herself. ‘I know, she might not have been the best mother in the world, but she didn’t deserve to die the way she did.’ Evie said, her throat tightening, and the tears that stung the back of her eyes finally rolled down her cheeks. Swallowing hard, Evie knew she had to be strong for the kids. They had been through so much.

  25

  The only thing Danny Harris longed to do when he lined the street with other members of the local community, was take the awful pain from Evie’s heart. He watched as she and her younger siblings followed their mother’s hearse the short distance to Saint Patrick’s church.

  Everybody in the surrounding area of the dock road had turned out to say their final goodbye, but one thing still troubled Danny, and it had done so since he heard the news of this woman’s tragic death. He could not be certain, but he was as near as damn it sure he had recognised the man who was with Rene on the night she died.

  Evie didn’t know what she would have done without Connie these last few weeks. Her friend had taken on a new vitality, making copious cups of tea for neighbours who popped in to make sure her and the kids were managing after the terrible news, and the ensuing funeral, which Evie could only cope with by concentrating on Lucy and Jack.

  The whole of Reckoner’s Row turned out, and every house paid their respects by keeping their curtains closed until after the funeral at Saint Patrick’s Catholic Church on a gloriously sunny April morning. Evie was relieved when the church roof did not collapse on her mother’s coffin, as Rene had always said it would. The church was packed. Some had come to support Evie, Jack and Lucy. Some – like Ada Harris – had come in case they missed something. And one in particular, whom Evie was totally unaware of, stood at the back of the church and watched…

  The news of Rene’s demise was the sole topic of local conversation in the Tram Tavern. And Mim, who had taken over the tavern in her daughter’s temporary absence, shared a running commentary of events that proved so popular, the takings over the bar escalated at a rate of knots.

  Evie managed a weak smile. Connie was the tonic she didn’t know she needed.

  ‘Don’t worry about your tea and sugar ration,’ Connie said filling another plate with ham sandwiches. ‘Everybody has brought something to add to the table, and a little extra to help out.’

  ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you over these past few weeks, Connie.’ Evie gave a tight smile. She hadn’t cried today.

  ‘That’s what us women do, love,’ Connie answered in her no-nonsense way. ‘We roll up our sleeves and we get stuck in.’

  It was another couple of hours before everybody had either drifted off to their own home or had carried on to the tavern.

  ‘This is the first time the house has been empty,’ Evie sighed, glad of a bit of peace to gather her thoughts. She was glad Mam had a good turn-out. There had been no funeral for her father, just a mention in Sunday Mass.

  ‘Lucy is going back to school tomorrow,’ Evie told Connie as they sipped a cup of freshly made tea. ‘I want to keep things as normal as possible.’ Her sister needed something to concentrate on. Not that Lucy would see it that way. ‘She’s certainly enjoying the attention, and the kindness of neighbours,’ Evie said. ‘She hasn’t been affected by Mam’s death the way…’ Evie’s chin wobbled and tears stung her eyes. It didn’t seem right that the girl didn’t grieve her own mother.

  ‘I’m not one to speak ill of those who can’t answer back,’ said Connie, ‘but she didn’t know Rene that well. You have been more of a mam to her.’

  ‘Everybody has been so kind,’ Evie said. She had discovered the people of Reckoner’s Row were not the accusing, unfriendly gossipmongers who had nothing better to do than show their contempt for the Kilgarens, as her mother had led her to believe. They showed their concern in lots of different ways. Even in their own time of need. Each morning, she would find a loaf on the step, or a pint of milk, a pan of soup – and never a hint of who had left them. Helping out like she was one of their own.

  ‘Well, I’ll let you get on,’ Connie said, finishing her tea, ‘you must want a bit of privacy. I’ll get back to the tavern and see what Mim’s up to.’

  ‘Thanks for everything, Connie.’ Evie gave Connie a hug and said again, ‘I don’t know what I would have done without you.’

  ‘Same as always, I expect,’ Connie said, heading towards the front door with Evie following behind. ‘You’d have coped.’

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sp; ‘I’m not so sure about that,’ Evie said. ‘I still have to find out who left the gift box.’ She waved to Mrs Evans from number six who called up the street.

  ‘There’re rabbits in the butchers, Evie, do you want me to pick you one up?’

  ‘No thanks, Mrs Evans, we’re having corned-beef hash tonight.’ Evie smiled when her neighbour nodded and continued on her way. She saw Angus rounding the corner and Connie went to meet him.

  Evie was glad she had some time to mull things over. Everything had been so hectic of late, she felt things were beginning to slip. And she still hadn’t found out what their Jack was up to.

  26

  ‘Come here,’ Angus looped his arm for Connie to link him. ‘Any news?’ he asked, and Connie shook her head, saying nothing as they sauntered the short distance to the tavern.

  ‘Do you fancy a little walk?’ Angus looked straight ahead, not wanting to break their tenuous link only to see Connie consumed by a hoard of prying drinkers in the tavern. He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye and they continued on passed the tavern and up the road toward the bridge.

  ‘Tell you what,’ he said a short while later, squeezing her arm closer to his body, ‘what do you say we get some fish and chips for supper?’

  ‘If the chippy’s still open,’ Connie said realising she hadn’t eaten since midday, ‘I’d love some.’ A cosy supper with Angus, and her mother downstairs in the bar sounded just the ticket.

  She and Angus had not spent time alone since that wonderful night they went dancing. Angus held her in his arms as they danced closely together, and for all Connie knew, there might not have been another person in the ballroom.

  Over the last few weeks she had grown fond of the Scotsman and she would be sorry when he had to leave, which was one reason she did not want to get too close. However, what she wanted and what she longed for were two different things.