by Ruth Sutton
Judith gave Donna the St Bees number, put down the phone and sat on the stairs until Vince found her and pushed her back up the stairs to bed, where a tide of exhaustion carried her away once again.
Hours passed. Judith slept and the family left her alone.
❖ ❖ ❖
The following morning Vince shook her shoulder and sat down on the bed.
‘You need to wake up,’ he said. ‘It’s Wednesday. That policeman came on Saturday and then you made that call to Morecambe yesterday and that’s all you’ve done for days.’
He sat still for a while. Judith waited for him to speak again. ‘It’s awful downstairs,’ he said. ‘We tiptoe around, and Mum’s taking it out on me. And she’s says you’re being selfish.’
Judith rolled over again and looked at Vince. He was staring at the window and looked miserable.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m not sleeping much, dreaming a lot. Awful dreams. I think I’m drowning, and people are watching but not doing anything. I thought making that phone call would help, but it didn’t.’
‘Dad says it’s a reaction to what happened and it will wear off. Don’t you want some food?’
She shook her head. ‘But I think I’ll try to get up.’
‘Thank God for that,’ said Vince. ‘I’ll get you some tea.’
Judith picked up the pillows from the floor and put them behind her head. She could see the play of sunlight on the curtains but didn’t open them. The chair in the corner where she had left her clothes was empty.
‘What’s happened to my clothes?’ she asked Vince when he re-appeared with a mug of tea and a biscuit.
‘Mum took them all for the wash,’ he said. ‘She said they smelled horrible and needed proper washing. She’s been fussing even more than normal. It’s pretty bad. Dad must be glad to get out to work every morning. This morning she made him agree to take some time off.’
‘What for?’
‘To take you and Mum away for a week somewhere.’
The mug slipped in Judith’s hand and tea stains dripped onto the sheet. ‘Away where?’
‘Don’t know. Granny Violet will come here to look after me and they’re going to take you away, for a proper rest, they said, and a “change of scene”. That’s what Mum kept going on about. She wore Dad down in the end.’
Judith felt trapped. She could feel her heart beating faster. ‘I don’t want to go away,’ she said. ‘They can’t make me.’
‘Doctor Albright might insist, Mum said. It’s either that or they start pumping pills into you.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with me,’ said Judith. ‘I’m just fed up and tired. And no one believes me.’
‘About what?’
‘Anything.’
‘You had a row with that policeman, didn’t you?,’ said Vince. ‘I liked the sound of him. Great voice, a mixture of Lancashire and Scottish I think. Has a sort of lilt to it.’
Judith snorted. ‘Lilt, my arse,’ she said. ‘He’s a boring, fussy pompous prick. Can’t make a move without checking every stupid little thing he’s supposed to do.’
‘That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it? What are you arguing about?’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ said Judith, lying down again. ‘I’ve been working it all out, lying here. It’s a clear as day what’s been going on but Mr Plod has to play it safe.’
Vince shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea what you’re on about. Maybe you do need a holiday. Get this rubbish out of your head.’
Judith pushed back the covers and put both feet on the floor. The sudden movement reeled in her brain and she put both hands to her head. Vince stood up. ‘Now what are you going to do?’ he said. ‘I didn’t really mean it, about you needing a holiday. Can’t be on my own with Granny Violet. You have to help me, Judith. Don’t let them take you away, please.’
‘Where are my clothes?’ she said.
‘Most of them are on the line still. It rained a bit earlier on. They won’t be dry yet.’
Judith was out of the bed now, opening drawers and the wardrobe. ‘There’s nothing here,’ she said. ‘Mum said she wanted to burn most of it,’ said Vince, standing uncomfortably by the door. ‘That’s the other thing she’s going to do, take you shopping.’
Judith groaned. ‘There must be something.’ She opened the door of the wardrobe wide and peered inside. ‘Old pair of jeans,’ she said, picking something up off the floor of the wardrobe. ‘That’s a start. Let me have something of yours, Vince. A shirt and a jumper, that’s all I need.’
‘Need for what?’ said Vince.
‘To get out of here, before they kidnap me,’ said Judith.
They both heard the door open downstairs and their mother’s voice. ‘I’m home, Vince. Everything all right? Where are you?’
‘Go, go,’ whispered Judith. ‘Tell her I’ve had some tea and gone back to sleep. And get me a shirt.’
Judith got back into bed and pulled the tea-stained sheet over her head, while Vince pulled the door closed behind him.
She lay quite still, trying to hear what was being said downstairs but she couldn’t. She hoped Vince wouldn’t give her away. The tea and the activity had cleared her head a little. Pieces of the puzzle that had been floating around for days were beginning to slow down and form into larger chunks, but there were still yawning gaps. She was sure now that Steven Stringer had been hurt or killed before he was dumped in the quicksand, but why and where and by whom and how? Anthony had come back from Australia and found his brother, and someone had wanted him dead, but who and why? Then there was Harries. Pat O’Toole kept saying they were only rumours about him, but rumours have to start for some reason. Maybe Anthony threatened him. Maybe that was why they were after Anthony, but why take the risk of killing him?
The memory of what Donna had said hit her again. The men in the Landrover knew Thornhill, said he owed them a favour. He was in this up to his neck, she was sure now. Everything added up, and she was amazed she hadn’t seen it right from the start. All that concern for her welfare? A sham. He’d given her the Monty House story because he could control her more than he could control Bill Skelly. And having her staying at their house made it even easier to keep an eye on her. He sent the Landrover men to find Anthony. Did he know what they would do to him? Did he tell them to do it? Was that the favour he owed them?
Her mind pushed the pieces of the picture around. Why was Anthony such a danger to them? And where did all Thornhill’s money come from? Maybe they were fiddling the books at Monty House, or getting money from all the visitors. Judith gasped as the last piece fell into place, what Anthony had found out about, what got him killed. Monty House was a brothel, with young boys’ bodies for sale to anyone who would pay. It was obvious, but who would believe her? Her heart was racing, adrenalin pushing her into action.
Judith got out of bed, found a dressing gown that had escaped the laundry purge and crept along the landing to the bathroom. Cold water splashed her face. Footsteps were coming up the stairs and she sat on the toilet seat behind the locked door, trying to control the panic rattling in her head. ‘You in there, Judith?’ said Maggie’s voice close to the door. ‘Come downstairs when you’re finished, dear. You need some food, you’ve not had anything to eat.’ The steps retreated. Judith tried to think about what to do. She couldn’t let them take her away, not now. She had to escape, to prove what only she knew.
She had to pretend to be the dutiful daughter. They thought she was ill, so she could fool them until it was too late and she had gone. She would lie to Vince about where she was going so they would go looking for her in the wrong place. The prospect of deceiving them all excited her. The fever in her head had turned into a plan. She stood up carefully, washed and brushed her hair into some kind of submission and went downstairs, breathing slowly, calming herself.
‘That’s better,’ said her mother when she saw her. ‘You’ve lain up there in that stuffy room for too long, our Judith, but look at you now. Washed and brushed, alm
ost back to normal.’
‘Thanks for washing my clothes,’ said the dutiful daughter. ‘I’ve let things slip a bit lately.’
‘Well it’s nearly done. Just the ironing tonight and you’ll be ready for a little holiday with me and your father. We’re going on Friday, up to Galloway, where we went on our honeymoon. Last time we left you with Granny and Grandad in West Row and this time you’re coming with us. Granny’s coming here to look after Vince, so she gets a little holiday too. It’s all settled.’ Vince shook his head.
Judith desperately wanted to protest at decisions being made without her agreement, but she held her tongue, to give herself more chance of getting away. Vince looked imploringly at her. ‘That sounds good,’ she said, as cheerfully as she could muster. ‘I’ve never been to the other side of the Solway.’
‘Beautiful country,’ said Maggie. ‘Quiet, no crowds, just what you need. Your dad took a bit of persuading but it’ll be good for him, too. He’s been worried sick about you.’
‘Sorry,’ said Judith.
‘Oh, none of it was your fault, pet, was it? That poor man died and you nearly did too, but it’s all over now isn’t it. I expect you’ll leave that Barrow job now won’t you, so this is a good chance to decide about coming home for good.’
With the certainty of mothers who like to dictate their children’s lives, Maggie bustled around while Judith sat watching her, planning the details of her escape. She would wait till she had some clothes, take her biggest shoulder bag with the things she might need and say she wanted to go for a walk. Her mother would think this would be another sign of her recovery, and would go and see Violet before their holiday started. With the right timing, it could be late afternoon before she realised that Judith was gone. She would get the train to Barrow, pick up the Vespa and make sure Thornhill wasn’t at home. If Irene was there, all the better. Judith was sure that Irene had no idea what her husband and his cronies were up to, and she wanted to break it to her gently.
Now that her head was clear, Judith ate a good supper, chatted amicably to her parents and exuded calm common sense. It was only Vince who heard the false cheerfulness in her voice, pitched slightly higher than normal. He wasn’t sure what she was up to, but she was definitely up to something. He was in his room when he heard Judith coming upstairs later and he called to her.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked. ‘You’re very excited about something, I can hear it, and I don’t think it’s about going to Galloway on Friday with the parents.’
Judith giggled. ‘Can I trust you, Vince?’ she said.
He nodded.
‘I’m going to run away, tomorrow, when Mum goes to see Granny. I’ve worked it all out. I know what’s been going on, and all I need now is the proof and I know where to find it.’
‘Proof of what?’ Vince asked, puzzled. Judith couldn’t resist sharing what she now knew. ‘If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone. OK?’
She told him the story, in a continuous whisper, about Steven’s death, and Anthony and Harries and Thornhill’s duplicity and the conspiracy, and the tie and the badge and the men in the Landrover. Vince listened with increasing alarm. This was not the sister he knew, this was an obsessed person, wild eyed, convinced beyond reason that she and she alone knew the truth that would soon be revealed. It reminded him of someone he’d heard on the TV talking about the existence of flying saucers.
When Judith finally stopped talking, he had to respond. ‘Does anyone else know all this?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘Just me. I worked it all out. Don’t know why it took me so long to see it.’
‘And what are you going to do?’
‘Find the proof of course, and help Irene Thornhill get away from that awful man. She has no idea what’s he’s been doing, how could she?’
‘What’s the big rush?’ said Vince. ‘Do you have go down there straight away?’
‘I was going to wait, but I can’t now, can I, or they’ll take me away. And it’s too important, don’t you think? One kid’s died, they killed Anthony, where will they strike next?’
‘It could be you next, Judith, have you thought of that?’
‘That’s why I have to act,’ she said, triumphantly. ‘And you have to help me, Vince. When Mum gets home tomorrow, tell her I’ve gone to see Elspeth and Tommy in Barrow, and I’ll be back later.’
‘Is that true?’
‘No, of course not,’ said Judith. ‘But that will put them off the scent. I just need an hour or two to do what needs doing.’
‘And what’s that?’ he asked, hoping that his face didn’t betray his belief that his sister had lost her reason.
Judith giggled again. ‘Never you mind,’ she said. ‘I’ve told you too much already. You have to keep it all to yourself, whatever happens. Promise?’
‘OK,’ said Vince. There seemed little point in trying to dissuade her. It was a fantasy, and she was going to embarrass herself and make others angry, but maybe that would draw a line under the whole stupid business.
‘Hope I can sleep,’ said Judith. ‘Tomorrow will be busy.’
‘Good night,’ he said.
❖ ❖ ❖
‘We’ll stop in Whitehaven on the way through tomorrow,’ said Maggie to her daughter at the breakfast table. Judith had got up and dressed as normally as necessary, to feed her mother’s conviction that it was only a matter of time before she had her prodigal daughter back home for good.
‘I’m going to take Granny to the Ladies’ Tea and Chat as normal this afternoon, so you make a list of the clothes you need tomorrow. Some of the old stuff is only fit for the ragman.’
Judith spent the rest of the morning upstairs, on the pretext of cleaning and tidying her room. She gathered the things she thought she would need, including the keys to Bay View that were still in her bag. If she got the train around two o’clock, she could be at the her flat in Cannon Street to pick up the Vespa well before four, and out to Bay View after Edna had left for the day and before Thornhill would get home from the office. Pick up the tie, talk to Irene, find whatever there was to find in the office, and away. She could see the story already in the national papers as well as the locals, and the by-line, maybe even a picture.
As soon as Maggie left the house Judith put her plan into operation. First she rang the newsroom to check on Thornhill’s plans for the day. Hattie was pleased to hear her sounding so cheerful. ‘We heard you’d taken it all rather hard,’ she said.
‘Oh, I was fine,’ said Judith. ‘Tired of course, but no problem. Should be back next week, all being well, if I can persuade my mother to stop fussing.’ Hattie laughed. ‘And can you tell me where the boss is today, Hattie?’ she added nonchalantly. ‘He’s away at a meeting all afternoon,’ said Hattie. ‘Irene was in earlier, moaning about him being late back again.’
‘So she’ll be at home, will she?’ Judith asked. Better and better.
‘That’s what she said,’ Hattie replied. ‘One of these days while she’s complaining about her life, I’m going to slap her, I swear I will. That woman has everything and she’s never satisfied.’
‘That’s always the way, isn’t it?’ said Judith. ‘I’ll see you next week and we can moan about her together.’
‘Shall I tell Bill and Ed about you coming back?’
‘No, please don’t, Hattie. Just in case, you know, something happens. It’ll be a surprise.’
Vince listened to Judith’s excited chatter on the phone with increasing admiration. She’s fooling all of them, he said to himself. Whatever she’s planning, she’s thought it all out.
Judith went back upstairs and returned carrying a large shoulder bag. ‘I’ve got some spare clothes,’ she told Vince. ‘If things work out the way they should, I’ll be away for a few days. The police will need to take statements, get search warrants, that kind of thing. By the weekend it might be all wrapped up. Could be on the TV news. That’ll make Mum take my job seriously, at last.’ She checked her
watch. ‘Train just after two, and away we go. Wish me luck.’
‘I do,’ said Vince. ‘Oh, and you’d better leave me the number of that friend of yours in Barrow, the one I have to say you’ve gone to see. Elspeth, isn’t it?’
Judith fished in her bag for her little book, found the number and gave it to him.
‘Elspeth doesn’t know anything about all this,’ she said, ‘so she’ll be suitably mystified and unhelpful. That’ll give me enough time to do what I have to do.’
‘Good luck, then,’ said Vince.
It’ll be fine, he told himself, as Judith kissed him goodbye and pulled the front door closed behind her. Later he regretted not picking up the phone straight away, but he went back to his music and turned it up as loud as he could before his mother came home.
CHAPTER 27
For most of Thursday Sam busied himself with the files that Morrison had piled onto his desk.
‘You’re very quiet,’ said Harry Grayson. ‘Tunnycliffe says you’ve been in all day, not swanning around like normal.’
Sam pointed at the pile of folders. ‘See how Morrison loves me,’ he said. ‘Hardly speaks to me for weeks, takes no interest in anything I’m doing and all of a sudden he’s all over me like a rash and finds dozens of vitally important things for me to do.’
Grayson smirked. ‘Keeps you off the street, and out of everyone else’s hair. They’re all grumbling about you.’
‘What have I done now?’
‘Just the usual,’ said Grayson. ‘Too busy, too serious, finding fault with the way we do things. That kind of stuff.’
Sam sat back, scratching his short hair with his pencil. ‘It’s a shambles round here. You know it is. We learned all that stuff in college, then you get on the job and the old hands tell you to forget all of it and just do what they do. That’s the easy way, but it stinks.’
‘Works for me,’ said Grayson. ‘Took me about three weeks to pick it up, and they’ve left me alone ever since. You should try it. Do what they tell you, don’t think for yourself, cut corners all you like and never, ever, grass on your mates. Then just keep your head down, wait your turn and get to be sergeant when your face fits. That’s where you’re going wrong, Nelly. Listen and learn, my son.’