For what seemed a lifetime, the silence in the little parlour was unbearable.
Frank remained quite still, head hanging low, coat in hand; neither he nor Molly made a move. In the background the clock ticked and from somewhere upstairs came the creaking of a floorboard.
‘No.’ One solitary word, spoken by a man who had been deserted, and who knew, deep down, that he was the cause of his wife leaving.
In all her life Molly had never felt so alone. ‘Come back inside, Dad.’ Wearily going to him, she put her hand on his shoulder.
Shrugging her off, he kept his back to her and, leaning against the door like an old man, he appeared to sag into himself; one arm hanging loose to let the coat slip to the floor, and his head buried deep into his neck.
To her amazement, Molly thought she heard him crying. Then his shoulders began heaving and the sound of his sobbing filled the room.
Shaken to her soul, Molly felt she had to get out of the house. She went into the scullery and opened the back door, then sat on the steps in the dark, breathing in the fresh night air, steeped in thought.
After a while the sights and sounds of the night invaded her senses: a man’s voice, whistling a merry tune as he wended his way home; rats scurrying about in the cellar; the shadow of a solitary cat gliding over the wall. Overhead the stars winked at her, seeming to say, ‘Take heart, Molly. Take heart.’ And her heart did grow quieter.
Suddenly, without warning, the quietness was shattered and all hell let loose.
From inside the house she could hear Lottie and her father screaming at each other. Scrambling up, she rushed inside. ‘Stop it!’ she cried. Taking Lottie by the arms, she held her off and pleaded, ‘The children, Lottie. Think of the children!’
But with so much pent-up hatred and fear spilling out, Lottie was unstoppable. ‘You’ve got to tell him, Molly,’ she roared, struggling like a wild thing. ‘It’s his fault as well as mine!’ she cried, her face contorted with loathing. ‘He was a pig to her, a vicious, violent pig – and it’s no wonder she’s gone! I hate you, Dad!’ Breaking away from Molly, she fled back up the stairs, sobbing as if her heart would break.
‘Little cow!’ Frank muttered, pacing the floor. ‘Our Amy’s never gone,’ he said obstinately. ‘She can’t have gone. She wouldn’t do that to me.’
Within minutes, Lottie was down again, all her belongings crammed into a bag. Keeping her distance, she yelled from the doorway, ‘You’re no good. You’re allus drunk… eyeing other women when me mam’s stuck at home with your bairns. You spend your wages soon as you get ’em, leaving her to do the best she can with what’s left. She said you were neither use nor ornament, and she were bloody right!’
With a deep-throated growl, he lunged at her from across the room. Throwing Molly aside, he took his younger daughter by the throat. ‘One more word outta you, and I’ll do for you, see if I don’t!’ He grinned when she began fighting for breath. ‘No good, am I?’ A spray of his spittle showered her face. ‘I’ll show you what’s no good.’ The more she struggled, the tighter he squeezed.
Dazed and cut where he had knocked her down, Molly saw what he was doing and was horrified. ‘GET OFF HER!’ she screamed. Any second now, Lottie would stop breathing. Thrusting herself between them, she tried to separate one from the other, but his grip on Lottie was like iron. ‘Dad, you’re killing her. For God’s sake, let go, or I’ll fetch the police.’
Some of her words must have got through, because with an almighty shudder, he threw Lottie aside. In that moment, when he was spent of energy and Molly was bent double trying to catch her breath, Lottie grabbed her bag from the floor where it had fallen. Stumbling down the passage, she made for the door before he could have her again. ‘You’re mad!’ she screamed, her throat aflame from his mauling. ‘Mam hates the sight of you, and so do I!’
‘Come back here!’ Incensed, Frank went after her again, only this time Molly had the strength to hold on to him, until Lottie was safely away.
When the front door slammed, he went wild. Screaming like a banshee, he clenched his fist and ran straight at the parlour door, sending his fist through the panel, his arm split open by the exploding splinters. ‘Jesus!’ With the blood dripping down his arm, he took hold of Molly by the shoulders. ‘I’ll swing for that girl!’ His eyes stood out like cold bright marbles. ‘If she ever sets foot in this house again, I swear to God, I’ll do for her.’
Meeting his gaze defiantly, Molly told him, ‘Let go of me.’
At first it seemed he might hit out at her, but then he lowered his hands and turned away. ‘It weren’t my fault,’ he muttered. ‘Yer mam didn’t go because of me.’ Watching Molly out of the corner of his eye, he asked, ‘How will I find her, lass? How will I know where she’s gone?’
Molly’s voice was cold and unforgiving. ‘You won’t.’
He nodded heavily, his eyes bloodshot. ‘Happen it’s just as well.’
Because in that moment, he had murder in mind.
* * *
Just as she was, without coat or thought for herself, Molly ran out of the house and into the night. She had to find Lottie.
Calling her name from every corner, she found her way to the old recreation ground where the fair was set out, ghostly and silent, and there, seated on the steps round the Waltzer, was her sister. Dropping down beside her, she draped an arm round her shoulders. ‘What did you want to rile him like that for, eh?’
‘He’s a bad ’un, Molly… worse than me.’
‘Who says you’re a bad ’un?’
‘They all do – me dad, Rosie, and most of the folks down the street.’
‘Take no notice,’ Molly consoled her. ‘Anyway, none of it matters now. All I’m concerned about is you.’
‘Well, yer shouldn’t be.’
‘Come home, love. He’ll have calmed down by now.’
Lottie gave a funny kind of laugh. ‘It’s too late,’ she answered dully. ‘I’ve left home now. The fair leaves here first thing in the morning, and when it does, I’ll be with it.’
Molly glanced about, at the big, awesome machines. ‘You can’t mean that,’ she protested. ‘What, travelling from place to place, out in all weathers, no proper home of your own? What kind of life is that?’
‘The best.’ It was another voice that answered. The young man who spoke was obviously part of the fairground; tall and lanky, he had an easy, arrogant look about him, and straightaway Molly could see how women might be attracted to him, especially one as young and impressionable as her sister.
Lottie’s face lit up. ‘This is Dave,’ she said proudly. ‘He’s my fella.’
For some reason she couldn’t explain, Molly wasn’t all that surprised. After all, Lottie had stayed out a couple of times lately, and had been more restless than usual.
But Molly was angry and fearful. Her voice shaking with emotion she told the young man, ‘I don’t know you, and I don’t want to. But I’ll tell you this: my sister is going nowhere with you! You should be locked up. Have you any idea how—’ She had been about to remind him of Lottie’s age, when her sister quickly intervened.
‘Leave him out of this, our Molly.’ Before Molly could answer, Lottie addressed the young man. ‘Go away, Dave. Please. Go back to your wagon and go to bed. I’ll see you later.’
He studied Molly, then Lottie, and then he was smiling, silently congratulating himself. Once he took a woman, they stayed until he told them to go. Lottie was no different. When he left here tomorrow, she would be with him, no matter what her sister wanted.
‘Be seeing you,’ he said, giving Molly an insolent smile, and returned to his wagon.
When he was far enough out of earshot, Lottie took her sister to task. ‘You were gonna tell him how old I am, weren’t you?’
Molly was shocked. ‘Are you saying he doesn’t already know?’
‘He won’t neither, not if I have owt to do with it.’
Molly tried again. ‘Come home, love, that’s all I want.’
/>
Lottie looked around her, recalling the fair in working hours, when the air was filled with merry music, and the delighted screams of people on the rides echoed through the night. Lost in a world of fantasy, lovers walked arm-in-arm with eyes for only each other, and everywhere myriads of folk strolled about laughing and chatting. ‘I am home,’ she said, and to Molly’s amazement, there was a sense of peace and contentment in her sister’s voice. ‘I belong here.’
Strangely humbled, Molly looked into Lottie’s young eyes and saw something there she had not reckoned for; Lottie was no longer a young girl but a woman, grown up and ready for the world. And yet she was still only fifteen, too young to leave home. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said painfully, ‘I can’t let you go like this.’
Tossing her head defiantly, Lottie retorted, ‘How will you stop me? Will you drag me home by the hair of my head? Maybe you’ll tell Dave my real age and hope he throws me out as well. Or one day, when he comes home drunk and looking for a fight, Dad might really kill me.’ A look of desperation hardened her face. ‘If you take me back there, I might even kill myself. Is that what you want, Molly? To bury me in the churchyard? Because that’s where I might as well be, without Mam and my Dave.’
‘Don’t talk like that, Lottie,’ Molly said in a choked voice. ‘It won’t happen. I won’t let it.’
But Lottie had a warning of her own. ‘You can’t be there all the time, can you, Molly?’
Molly knew it was the truth. She also knew Lottie well enough to believe she would carry out her threat. ‘But you’re so young, Lottie. Too young to be all alone in the world.’
In a rare moment of tenderness, Lottie took hold of her sister’s hand. ‘I won’t be alone,’ she answered. ‘I’ve got Dave. And besides, I’m not all that young. I’ll be sixteen next birthday. Noreen Taylor got wed when she were sixteen and now she’s only eighteen and already got three kids.’
Seeing her argument crumble before her, Molly was momentarily lost for words.
‘I’ll be all right, honest I will. I can take care of myself.’ The younger girl smiled. ‘Besides, if you make me come home, I’ll only run away, and I’ll keep on running, until one day I’ll be so far out of your life you’ll never, ever find me. You wouldn’t like that, would you?’
Molly’s answer was to fold her arms round Lottie’s neck and draw her close. ‘You know I wouldn’t.’
‘I do love you, Molly. I want you to know that.’ Her voice broke and, like Molly, she could not stop the tears.
‘I’ll keep in touch,’ she promised. ‘Wherever I am, I’ll let you know.’
In the background, she saw Dave waiting on the steps of his wagon. ‘Come and meet my sister properly.’ Lottie was confident Molly would not now disclose her age.
Arrogant as ever, Dave remained where he was.
Realising he had no intention of making the first move, Lottie made excuses for him. ‘He’s a bit wary of folk,’ she told Molly. ‘His mam were a bit of a pig and he’s been on the run for a long time. He’s learned not to trust folk, but he’s a good sort, Molly. You mustn’t worry.’
Unconvinced, Molly walked up the steps to where he sat. Looking up at him, she saw the defiance in his eyes, and it struck her how alike these two were.
For his part, Dave observed how she was not as pretty as Lottie, and decided he’d got the best bargain. Admiring her boldness in coming to him when he wouldn’t go to her, he held out his hand. Taking her small fist in his, he said, ‘I’m Dave. Nice to meet you.’
Molly nodded. ‘I’m sure you know that I don’t want her to go with you?’
‘So I understand.’
‘Do you think I’m being unreasonable?’ She needed to dig beneath that hard exterior and find out what he was really thinking.
He smiled. ‘No. If it were my kid sister, I’d want the same.’
‘Will you help me?’
Again he shook his head. ‘Sorry. It’s not up to me.’
‘She might listen to you.’
‘It’s not my fight. I’ve made it a rule never to get involved in family matters.’ With that he thrust his hands deep into his pockets and, looking beyond her to Lottie, he made an impatient, beckoning gesture with his head.
Running up the steps, Lottie urged, ‘Go home, Molly. Look at yer, you ain’t even got a coat and it’s bloody freezing. I’ll be all right, you know I will.’
‘How will you manage?’
‘I’ll work here, on the fairground. They’re allus looking for young, strong hands.’
‘And where will you live?’
Dave’s voice cut the air. ‘She’ll live with me, in my wagon. It’s warm and cosy and she’ll not go hungry.’ Neither will I, he thought slyly. Only his hunger was of a different kind.
There was something about the young man Molly couldn’t take to, but then, Lottie was obviously fond of him, so he couldn’t be all that bad. Besides, Lottie had always been able to hold her own, even against their dad at his worst.
Suddenly, Molly looked from one to the other, and realised that here was an alliance meant to run its course. She feared for Lottie, yet feared more what would happen if she forced her to come back to Victoria Street.
‘Please, Molly.’ Lottie’s voice shattered her thoughts. ‘I’ve made up my mind: I’m going with Dave. Let me go with your blessing.’
Molly raised her eyes to Lottie’s, and for a time they looked at each other, their faces wet with tears, their hearts aching. They remembered how it had been before, and how it was now, and came to realise that nothing stayed the same. Everything moved on, and now Lottie, too, was moving on. ‘Keep in touch?’ Molly asked, and Lottie promised she would.
‘Wherever I am.’
They fell into each other’s arms and the old childhood love flowed between them; that same love which had been momentarily smothered by circumstance, adolescent selfishness and the unhappiness of others.
After a time, they drew apart and Lottie said, ‘Tell Dad I don’t really hate him.’
Swallowing hard, Molly nodded. ‘I suppose I will.’
‘And give the kids a hug for me.’
Taking a deep breath, Molly placed both hands on her sister’s shoulders. ‘Looks like I have no option but to let you go.’
‘You won’t send the authorities after me, will you?’ It was the frightened little girl speaking. ‘They’ll put me away.’
‘I might,’ Molly threatened with a wag of the finger. ‘If I don’t hear from you regularly.’
Relieved, Lottie smiled. ‘I’ve already said, haven’t I?’
Looking to Dave, Molly conceded, ‘Seems as though I have to trust you, whether I want to or not.’
He gave no answer. Instead he merely nodded, but for Molly it was all she could ask and no more.
Another tense moment followed, before Lottie went up the steps and stood beside her fella; when Molly went away, her heart felt like lead in her chest. She didn’t look back, though she knew they watched until she was out of sight.
Head bent to the cold wind, she made her way home. ‘Take care of yourself, Lottie,’ she murmured. ‘And may God keep you safe.’
* * *
The following night, after her dad had gone out to drown his sorrows, Molly opened the door to Rosie. ‘Kids in bed, are they?’ Rosie asked.
‘This past hour,’ Molly answered, leading the way into the parlour.
‘So, ye managed to tell your da, then?’
‘He took it bad, Rosie.’
‘So he should.’ Rosie had little sympathy. ‘Where is he now?’
‘One of his old cronies called and took him down to the pub.’
‘I see. And what about Lottie… did ye tell her?’
‘Lottie took it even worse.’ Molly shivered. ‘She and Dad had a terrible fight, each blaming the other.’
Rosie then noticed the bruises and scratches on Molly’s face and neck. ‘And you got caught up in the middle as usual, is that it?’
The girl smiled
wistfully. ‘If I tell you summat, will you promise not to breathe a word to a soul, not even Sandra… especially not your Sandra? You know how the drink loosens her tongue.’
Rosie agreed. ‘Go on, love. I’m listening.’
As briefly as she could, Molly explained what had happened and where Lottie had gone. ‘I had no choice,’ she told Rosie. ‘Dad had already threatened to swing for her if she came back, and then she threatened to take her own life if I forced her to. So what could I do, Rosie… what else could I do but let her go?’
‘Nothing, other than what you did. Ye told her you’d come looking for her if she didn’t keep in touch, and ye told the young fella he was to take care of her. No matter what ye did or didn’t do, she would have gone anyway, if not to this bloke then to another.’
‘D’you really think so?’ It was small consolation, but consolation all the same.
‘I’m sure of it! She’s a wild little thing and has to learn from her own mistakes. Sure, when it all boils down to it, lass, ye did exactly what I would have done in the circumstances. You two made friends, and she knows you love her all the same. She went away happy, didn’t she? Ye must allus keep that in mind.’
‘She was so afraid I’d send the authorities after her. “They’ll put me away,” she said.’
‘Aye, an’ they would an’ all. But you’re not to worry, pet. I won’t say a word to a soul – not even to our Sandra.’ She chuckled. ‘If anyone should ask me, I’ll tell them she’s gone to her Auntie Mabel’s in Northampton.’
‘We haven’t got an Auntie Mabel in Northampton.’
‘Sure, I know that,’ Rosie laughed. ‘But nobody else does, do they now?’
And Molly felt reassured. It was a weight off her mind just to have told somebody.
Now Rosie felt it was time to speak her mind. ‘With Lottie off on her own adventure, there’ll be less fireworks in this house and no mistake.’ Making her way into the scullery, she came back with a tray of tea and barmcakes. ‘Ye look like a ghost, so ye do,’ she told Molly. ‘Get this down ye, afore ye fade away altogether.’
Looking Back Page 17