In that beautiful church, Ellie was aware of nothing, except the two narrow boxes lying at the foot of the altar. All around her, people were singing and praying, and she could do neither. The pain of losing her parents was excruciating; it would never go away. She felt lost and alone. Starting out on a journey and not knowing where it might end, she would have to do it all, without her mother to guide her, or her father to lift her spirit.
Standing strong, she kept the tears back as long as she could. Then slowly, when emotion began to overwhelm her, her face slowly crumpled and her lips trembled uncontrollably. In a minute, there was no holding back the awful pain inside.
The sobs came quietly at first, smothered and controlled. Then they were echoing round the church, touching every soul there, until Mick took her in his arms and held her tight. ‘It’s all right, lass,’ he murmured. ‘You’ve every right to cry.’ And, though he had vowed not to, he cried with her. He had lost two good friends; one of them being the kindest person he had ever known. His best mate was crippled, maybe for life. It was a terrible thing.
Betsy stood beside them. She had done her crying. Seeing her mam and dad lying there had made her realise they were gone for ever. They could not help her any more. From now on, she would have to lean on her sister. Ellie was good. Ellie would look after her, she knew.
When the service was over, they all gathered in the churchyard, to pray and say their last goodbyes at the double grave. Afterwards, earth was thrown on top of both coffins, and when everyone had gone, Ellie stayed to say her piece. 'I won’t always be a child,’ she told her parents. ‘One day I’ll be old enough to make my own way. I’ll find out who the man was, and I’ll make him pay for what he did.’ The promise was given in a calm, quiet voice; and etched on her soul like it was branded in hot iron.
Falling to her knees, she leaned into the ground where they lay, her fingers reaching out to them, and her voice breaking. ‘I love you both so much. I’ll always love you, for as long as I live.’ With Betsy watching from a distance, she cried for a while until her heart was calm and she could face the others. When she walked away, she did not look back. It would have been too much.
Peggy greeted the young girl with open arms. ‘You’ll want to visit your grandad now.’
They bade goodbye to Mrs Potton. ‘I can come with you if you’d rather,’ she offered, but Ellie refused.
‘It’s best if me and Betsy go in alone,’ she said. ‘He’s very poorly, and he’s easily frightened.’
When they arrived at their grandad’s house in Accrington, where Bertie was recuperating after his stay in the nursing home, Ellie and Betsy were taken to the door. The kindly neighbour answered and they went inside, while the foster-parents returned to the cab. ‘Take your time,’ they said. ‘We’ll be right outside.’
A portly soul with silver-white hair and a permanent smile, Widow Partridge had been Bertie Hill’s neighbour for nigh on twenty years. Even before the tragedy, she had often cooked for him. They sometimes ate together in his house, and sometimes in hers. They talked about anything and everything, and laughed at the same silly things; occasionally they would go down the street for a pint at the local. They were good friends, nothing more – though even now, when he was ill and needed a nurse rather than a wife, Tilly Partridge would have been the happiest soul on God’s earth if Bertie had asked her to be his partner in marriage.
‘It’s grand to see you both,’ she told the girls. She had known them a long time. Tears hovered in her eyes but wisely she thrust them away. ‘Come in and let your grandad know you’re here. He’ll be that glad to see the pair of youse, so he will.’
Leading them down the passage to the parlour, she chatted all the way. ‘He’s nicely tucked up by the fire, and I’ve just made him a bowl of his favourite soup.’
Ellie could hardly believe her eyes when she went in. In the short time since she had last seen him, on Christmas Day, Grandad Bertie was older by twenty years or more. His hair had turned snow-white, and even seemed to have thinned on top. He had lost a deal of weight, the consequence of which was a sagging jaw and baggy jowls. Gone was the cheeky grin and chubby cheeks, and that look of devil-may-care that so endeared him to her.
The old man didn’t hear them come in. These days he was aware of very little. Instead, he sat very still, with his hands wrapped round the tray on his lap. The bowl of soup was untouched; the bread broken but not tasted.
‘Sometimes he escapes to a little world of his own,’ Tilly informed them. ‘The doctors have said he’ll recover, but it could take months yet, and o’ course he ain’t as young as he once was.’ Going over to her old friend, she touched him on the shoulder, ‘Bertie, here’s your lovely granddaughters come to see you.’
Spying the chocolates in Betsy’s hands, she teased, ‘They’ve brought you chocolates, but I’m not sure if I can let you have them. You haven’t even touched your soup, you bad lad.’
Taking the tray from him, she told the girls, ‘Sit in that sofa opposite – he’ll see you there. Talk to him.’ She paused. ‘Although happen you shouldn’t tell him about the church an’ all. Not unless he asks.’ Seeing Betsy’s scowling face, she addressed her nervously. ‘Is that all right, lass? Am I speaking out of turn?’
When Betsy turned away, it was Ellie who answered. ‘We understand,’ she said. ‘And you’re right. It might be as well if we don’t say anything about it.’
‘I’m so sorry, lass. I don’t know what to say.’ Taking out her hankie, she blew her nose.
Ellie told her she didn’t have to say anything at all, that she was a good friend. ‘You’re so kind to be taking care of our grandad.’
‘Well, they wouldn’t keep him in the Infirmary once he began to show signs of some improvement. They don’t let you occupy a bed when there’s some other poor soul waiting for it. But I’m happy to look after him.’ Her smile was so pretty. ‘I’ll allus be here for Bertie,’ she said proudly. ‘He’s all I’ve got.’
Taking the tray into the scullery, she carried on talking. ‘The nurse calls in every morning to wash and dress him. He has his medicine and a check-up. Then me and him have our breakfast together, right here in this little parlour. I allus have a cheery fire on. O’ course, I need to make sure there’s a guard round it in case he slips or some such thing. At night, the nurse comes back and washes him – gets him ready for his bed an’ all that.’
Returning, she put a tender hand on Bertie’s shoulder. ‘Between me and the nurse, he’s well looked after. And, I have to say, he seems to be getting a little better every day.’ Her face beamed with pleasure. ‘It’s no hardship looking after your grandad, not at all. I’d have to do it if we were wed, but o’ course we’re not, and that’s a shame.’
Having said her piece, she offered to fetch them each a glass of sarsaparilla. When it was accepted, she went off to the scullery, where she could be heard bustling about, even at one stage, talking to herself, saying, ‘I’ll make Bertie a cup of cocoa… he likes cocoa, does Bertie.’
Betsy shook her head. ‘She’s daft as a brush. Silly old cow!’
Ellie rounded on her, horrified. ‘She’s no such thing – and well you know it! She’s a dear old soul and we ought to be grateful to her. If it wasn’t for her, Grandad would probably be put in a home.’
But Betsy could see how bad Grandad was; chunnering and moaning to himself, he didn’t even seem to know they were there. ‘He might be better off in a home.’ Betsy seemed to have lost all sense of compassion.
Ellie turned to the old man. ‘Grandad?’ He didn’t look at her, so she spoke to him again. ‘Grandad, it’s Betsy and Ellie. We’ve come to see you.’
He glanced at her and looked away.
‘Please, Grandad.’ Ellie needed him to look at her again. She needed him to know she was there for him, that she and Betsy loved him so. ‘Look – we’ve brought you some chocolates. Give him the chocolates, Betsy,’ she urged her sister. ‘Let him see.’
Betsy thr
ust the box into her hand. ‘You give them to him.’
Inwardly making every excuse for Betsy’s behaviour, Ellie held the chocolates out. ‘Look, Grandad. These are for you.’
Again he turned and looked at her. His sorry gaze shifted to the box of sweets in her hands. Ever so slightly he shook his head. Then his eyes locked onto hers, and agonisingly slowly the recognition was like a small light dawning. His smile was beautiful to see, sad yet filled with wonder; his voice the same. ‘Ellie…?’
He gave a long, trembling sigh, then tears filled his old eyes. ‘Oh, Ellie!’ Then he saw Betsy and his chin began to dimple, his voice dropping to a whisper. ‘Betsy.’ Like two round clear raindrops the tears rolled down his cheeks. ‘My lovely lasses.’ He opened his arms and they went to him, Ellie on one side, and Betsy on the other.
From the door, his old friend watched, her heart full at that very special sight. It was a wonderful reunion, with each one needing the other, even Betsy. They cried, and laughed and clung to each other, but all too soon, it was over. Like Widow Partridge had said, ‘Sometimes he escapes into his own little world’, and that was exactly what Bertie did now.
Gently he eased them away. ‘All gone,’ he muttered, his eyes glazing over. ‘All gone now.’ He began rocking backwards and forwards, arms folded, eyes vacantly staring into the flames, ‘All gone… all gone.’
Overcome with sorrow at the sight of her grandad like that, Ellie fell to her knees before him. Taking his hands into hers, she squeezed them tight. ‘Listen to me, Grandad. Mam and Dad…’ Swallowing hard, she looked up at the old woman, who seemed to understand. When she gave her blessing with a nod, Ellie continued, ‘Mam and Dad have died. It was too late to save them.’
She had to pause for a moment or she would not have been able to go on. Memories of the churchyard were too fresh in her mind. ‘We took some flowers to the church – some from you and some from us. Larry is in the Infirmary – he’s badly hurt but he’s alive, and you know him – he’s a fighter. He’ll come through it. He’ll be all right, I know he will.’
She pointed to Betsy. ‘Betsy’s here for you, and I’m here for you. We love you, Grandad. So you see, they’re not all gone. We’re here, so is Larry… and so are you, Grandad. We’re still a family. We still have each other.’
Suddenly, the old man stopped rocking. He didn’t look at her, nor did he seem to acknowledge what she had been saying. Instead he began to murmur, as though talking only to himself, ‘Larry… Larry.’
Thrilled, Ellie knew that she had somehow got through to him. ‘That’s right,’ she whispered, giving him a kiss. ‘Your grandson’s in the Infirmary. He’s not well enough to leave yet, but he’ll get better, you’ll see. And when he does, he’ll want to visit you, show his support, won’t he? And so will Betsy and me. We need you, Grandad. We love you.’
For a few minutes he seemed not to have heard. The rocking grew frantic, then he suddenly stopped and turning to Ellie, he whispered, ‘I’ll ask Ada. She knows.’
He didn’t speak any more, nor did he look at her.
‘He’s wandering again,’ Widow Partridge sighed. Suddenly she looked worn out. ‘Happen he’s best left alone now, eh?’
Before the girls departed she told them: ‘It’s been so good for him, having you here like this.’ To Ellie, she said, ‘You did right, lass, telling him about Larry an’ all. I was afeared it might upset him, but when you talked to him like you did, I swear he seemed better than he’s done in ages. I think he’ll dwell on what you said. I’m sure it’s bound to help him.’
Hugging her tight, she murmured her thanks again and again. Then she hugged Betsy, and waved them all the way back to the waiting cab. She had a feeling Bertie might not say it any more – that terrible, desolate phrase ‘all gone’. Not now that lovely young lass had opened her heart to him.
* * *
Larry was waiting for them. In his mind he had been there at the church, part of that congregation. He had shared every hymn, every prayer, and when they walked to the churchyard with the coffins, he was there with them.
He could see his mam and dad, not as they were now, but how they had once been, laughing and teasing, and loving each other as they had done for all their married life and some time before. He saw his Grandad Bertie, and the girls, and was as much a part of the occasion as if he had really been there.
Now, when his sisters came running down the ward, his eyes lit up like beacons. ‘By! You look right bonny, the pair of you.’
‘We brought you some flowers,’ Ellie said, and laid them on the side-table.
‘They’re beautiful, just like my two sisters. Leave them there on the table,’ he said. ‘The nurse will put them in a vase later, I’m sure.’ Smiling, he opened his arms. ‘Let’s have a look at my girls.’
They hugged and kissed and talked about everything but the service, until suddenly Betsy said, ‘I wish you’d been there, Larry.’
Solemn-faced he nodded. ‘I know, lass.’ He had intended not saying too much about it, but now he let his emotions show. ‘I wish I could have been there too.’
More than that, he wished to God it had never happened in the first place. If only he could turn back the clock! He and his dad would have come home earlier than they did. They would have been in time… they might have caught the man described by Ellie, the same man he had seen fleetingly as he ran up the stairs. Over and over it played in his mind like an old film.
Ellie fell silent. She didn’t know what to say any more. She didn’t know how much more she had to give, or how much longer she could go on being strong. She could hear Betsy telling him everything; about the church and all those people, and how she hated being in a foster-home, and why couldn’t he get better quicker so they could all be together again.
It was thoughtless talk, yet Ellie didn’t seem able to intervene. What with seeing Grandad in that pitiful state and now Larry trussed up to some iron contraption, and both his legs in plaster, it was too much to take in all at once. His upper body and face still bore the dark, yellowing bruises and every time he turned his head, pain was visible on his face.
Ellie felt paralysed. It was as if she had lost the use of her limbs and wasn’t able even to move, or open her mouth to stop Betsy’s whining tirade. Instead the babble of words just washed over her – until she heard Betsy telling Larry how Grandad had ‘gone out of his mind – a babbling old man who didn’t even know them’. When she heard that, her senses reeled in anger.
‘NO!’ Her intervention took the other girl by surprise. ‘That’s not the truth. Grandad knew we were there. He knew what I was telling him, but he’s been ill – like Larry but in a different way.’
Betsy didn’t argue. Instead she leaned back in the chair and lapsed into a sulk. The other two knew the only way to deal with it was to let her stew for a while, when she would come out of it on her own.
All the same, Larry was concerned, asking Ellie, ‘How is Grandad… really?’
Ellie was honest with him, though gentler than Betsy had been. ‘He’s very poorly, and like Betsy said, sometimes he doesn’t even know you’re there, but he’s not out of his mind. He’s confused and frightened. He thinks we were all… you know?’ She couldn’t bring herself to say it, and Larry wisely ignored her stuttering.
‘So he wasn’t well enough to go to the church?’ he asked. ‘I was told there might be a possibility he could go to the service at least.’
Ellie shook her head, ‘I’m glad he didn’t,’ she said simply.
‘And what about you two?’
‘We’re all right, Larry, you mustn’t worry about us. Just concentrate on yourself, and get better.’
‘But I do worry about you,’ he said. ‘I want you to be with good people. They told me you were with a lovely couple – Mr and Mrs Walters, isn’t it?’ When Ellie confirmed it with a nod, he went on, ‘Are they nice to you?’
‘Yes. They’re very kind. They’re outside now, waiting.’
‘Do
you think I should talk to them? See what kind of people they are?’
Ellie was adamant. ‘No, Larry. Me and Betsy are tiring you out, I can see. Maybe they’ll come and visit another time, when you’re stronger. If you really want them to?’
Amazed at how she had seemed to grow up all in an instant, he reached out to her, wincing in pain as he did. ‘You’re a good lass, Ellie. You too, Betsy. Come here, sweethearts, both of you. Give your old brother a hug, eh?’
At first Betsy hesitated. She hadn’t quite forgiven Larry for getting hurt and deserting them to foster-parents. But then she saw how Ellie curled into his arms, and not wanting to be left out, she did the same. ‘When will you be better?’ she asked tearfully.
He groaned. ‘I’d be better tomorrow, if only I knew how. But I have to put my faith in the doctors, love. I don’t know how long it might be before I’m better, and neither do they.’ His voice trembled slightly. ‘The truth is, I don’t even know if I’ll ever walk again, but I’ll try my damnedest, you can bet on that!’
The three of them held each other for some long time. There were no tears, not now. Tears would not bring their loved ones back. Nor would it mend their grandad, or make Larry walk.
Only time and determination could say whether the two men would regain their strength, albeit in different ways. And no one knew that better than Larry and Ellie. Betsy, however, wanted it all right now. She had neither time nor patience for waiting.
The nurse’s voice cut through their thoughts. ‘It’s time to go,’ she whispered. ‘We’d best let your brother sleep now.’
Shocked, Ellie realised he’d gone fast asleep with his arms round them, and she hadn’t even noticed. Betsy was all for waking him. ‘He won’t like it if we go without saying goodbye,’ she pouted.
‘I’ll tell him.’ The nurse was a small, smiling thing. ‘I’m sure you’ll soon be in to see him again.’
Betsy asked her the same question she had asked Larry. ‘When will he get better?’
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