Love Changes Everything

by Love Changes Everything (retail) (epub)

  ‘I don’t think they are anywhere else either,’ Ella commented as she came back into the room. ‘Most companies seem to be cutting back.’

  ‘That’s right. Wasn’t that the reason my Trixie got the sack? When she came home and told us she’d lost her job she said that it was case of first in, last out, or something like that.’

  ‘Yes, that’s what Fred said when he announced she was getting the sack; which makes it all the more strange that another girl was taken on right away. I think he deliberately sacked Trixie for some reason, though I can’t work out what it was.’

  ‘This makes it more worrying than ever,’ Maggie sighed. ‘My Sam told Trixie before Christmas that there were going to be some changes in the coming year and he hinted that he had something lined up for her. Do you think he could be in cahoots with Fred Linacre and got him to deliberately sack Trixie?’

  Ivy looked thoughtful as she took the cup of tea her mother had poured for her. ‘Well, he did persuade Fred to take her on in the first place, didn’t he?’ she pointed out.

  ‘You’re right, luv,’ Maggie agreed. ‘So why ask Fred to sack her a couple of years later and why did Fred have to go and threaten you like he did?’

  ‘Obviously the pair of them have cooked something up between them. Perhaps he didn’t want me speculating about it to any of the other women, but we’ll never know the real story till we can ask Trixie herself,’ Ivy said philosophically.

  ‘How can we do that when none of us have any idea where she is?’ I’ve a good mind to go round to this Fred Linacre’s place and ask him outright if he knows anything about it,’ Maggie said angrily. ‘Do you know where he lives, Ivy?’

  ‘No, but it’s bound to be somewhere around here. All I know is that he’s a bachelor and the women on the assembly line say that’s what makes him such a misery guts.’

  As they talked, the more Maggie became convinced that Trixie’s disappearance was somehow linked with Fred Linacre and she resolved that she’d tackle Sam about it the moment he came home. Everything he’d said to Trixie before he’d taken her away the previous Saturday pointed to some sort of collusion between him and Fred.

  He hadn’t even shown any surprise when Trixie had come home and said she’d been sacked. Under normal circumstances he would have hit the roof and probably have given her a good hiding. Now she even wondered if he’d known before Trixie did what was going to happen. It did seem that she’d been sacked from the factory on purpose, Maggie thought as she sipped her second cup of tea.

  ‘Ivy, are you sure you don’t know where this fellow Fred Linacre lives?’ she asked again as she put her cup back on the table, a worried frown creasing her forehead. ‘Haven’t you any idea at all?’

  ‘No, I haven’t. I can ask when I go into work on Monday, but I’ve never heard anyone mention it,’ she added with a wry smile.

  ‘This chap Andrew Bacon who works at the bank might know,’ Maggie persisted.

  Ivy shook her head. ‘I shouldn’t think he’s ever met Fred Linacre,’ she said.

  ‘Well, he might have done at some time. If Fred Linacre is careful with his money then he might have an account at the bank where this chap is working.’

  ‘Even if he does know, Andrew wouldn’t be able to tell you,’ Ella chimed in. ‘Bank employees have to swear to secrecy when they’re taken on, I remember him telling Jake that it’s more than their job’s worth to talk about any of their customers affairs.’

  ‘Well, I’ll have to see if I can get Sam to tell me; he must know because they drink at the same pub. Trixie might even be at Fred’s place.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re wrong if you think that Trixie could be at Fred Linacre’s place,’ Ivy said in astonishment. ‘She hated him! He was always taunting her about something or other.’

  ‘I’m not saying she went to his place willingly,’ Maggie said hastily. ‘She didn’t want to go with Sam last Saturday but he insisted, and what’s more he made her take her clothes and stuff with her.’

  Ivy and her mother said nothing. As Ella began gathering up the cups Maggie stood up and announced that she must be getting back.

  ‘I can’t wait to talk to Sam and find out what he knows,’ she stated. ‘I’ll make him tell me; I’ll get the truth out of him somehow or other,’ she vowed.

  ‘You be careful,’ Ella warned her. ‘Your Sam can be violent, you’ve said so yourself. He’s knocked you about before and he’s given Trixie a hiding. Without her there to take your part, or look after you if he thumps you about, then what’s going to happen? You’ve got little Cilla to consider, you know.’

  ‘I’m aware of that,’ Maggie said worriedly, ‘but I’ve got to get to the bottom of this one way or another. Trixie may be in some awful danger and even if she isn’t, this fellow must be keeping her somewhere against her will and she’ll be breaking her heart to come home.’

  ‘Well, that’s true enough,’ Ella agreed as she helped Cilla to put her coat on.

  ‘If either of you do hear anything at all about Trixie, then you will come and tell me, won’t you? Promise me you’ll do that,’ Maggie pleaded, looking from one to the other.

  ‘Of course we will. We’ll be doing all we can to find out what’s happened to her,’ Ella promised. ‘Neither of us had any idea that she was missing like this. Ivy thought she was so busy looking for a new job that she hadn’t had time to get in touch.’

  ‘Have a word with that Andrew and see if he knows anything. If he was as fond of Trixie as you say, then he might manage to find a way to let you know where this Fred Linacre lives, if he knows it, without breaking any of the promises he’s made to the bank,’ Maggie added hopefully.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sam Jackson felt slightly uneasy as he walked into the pub at midday on Saturday and ordered a beer. Fred Linacre was already standing at the bar. It was a week since he’d taken Trixie along to his house and since then neither of them had spoken a word about it.

  ‘Another pint?’ Sam’s voice was terse, a clear sign that he was on edge.

  Fred Linacre turned and nodded, picked up his tankard, drained it, and held it out.

  Sam pushed it across the counter towards the waiting barmaid who had put his beer in front of him. ‘Fill that up again,’ he ordered and counted out the additional money to pay for it.

  ‘Shall we go and sit over in the corner, Fred?’ he suggested when she’d pulled another pint and passed it across the counter. ‘There’re one or two things I want to ask you.’

  ‘I thought there might be,’ Fred answered laconically as he led the way.

  ‘Well?’ Sam asked as he set his glass on the table and sat down. ‘What’s the news? Has she settled in without causing any trouble?’

  Fred took a long noisy swig of his beer, put his tankard down, and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth to remove the froth. ‘It takes time,’ he prevaricated.

  ‘You mean she hasn’t taken to living there with you?’ Sam muttered. ‘I was afraid of that.’

  ‘I’ll tame her; you leave things well alone. I don’t want you or your missus sneaking round trying to see her or even speak to her. Is that understood?’

  ‘Clear as mud,’ Sam said tersely. He took another drink of his beer, then thumped the glass down hard. ‘I need to know that she’s all right, though. I don’t want you hurting her in any way. The odd cuff over the ear or around the gob is one thing if she answers you back, but I don’t hold with you giving her a hiding.’

  ‘Want to keep that sort of thing to yourself, do you?’ Fred mocked sarcastically.

  ‘Children are like animals; you’ve got to show ’em who’s master,’ Sam agreed. ‘It’s their parents’ job to do that, though, not some bloody stranger.’

  ‘Hardly a stranger, seeing as how she’s living with me,’ Fred countered with a smirk. He drained his glass and stood up ready to leave. ‘I’ve got to get back because my meal will be on the table waiting and your Trixie’s not too bad a cook,’ he taunted. ‘I w
on’t be telling her that I’ve seen you, so don’t worry.’

  ‘Hold on!’ Sam stood up, grabbing the other man by the arm. ‘Set my mind at rest; tell me she’s doing all right.’

  ‘What would you do if I tell you she isn’t?’ He shook Sam’s hand from his arm. ‘We made a deal, remember?’

  ‘I know we made a bloody deal but I still want to know she’s all right,’ he persisted. ‘My missus is worried about her and the little one’s never stopped screaming and crying for her since the day she left. Driving me mad, it is.’

  ‘You should have thought about all that.’ Fred shrugged and began pushing his way towards the door. ‘Show ’em who’s master, I’m sure you know how to do that.’

  Sam drained his beer glass and followed Fred out of the pub, intending to try and persuade him to say more, but when he got outside Fred was way ahead of him. Annoyed, he shouted out to him to wait but Fred ignored him. He felt so angry that he decided to follow him back to Cavendish Road.

  Fred had already disappeared into the passageway and no amount of hammering on the locked door of number twenty or shouting up at the windows seemed to do any good.

  He was on the point of turning away when he spotted Trixie with her face pressed against an upstairs window. She looked scared stiff and she was mouthing something at him but he was too far away to make out what she was saying.

  As he stared up, wondering what she was trying to tell him, he saw Fred appear there as well and roughly push her to one side and then look down and shake a fist at him.

  Furiously, he hammered on the door again but nothing happened, no one came to answer it. He thought of going into the shop underneath to see if they could tell him anything about Trixie. Then he decided that would be futile and they probably wouldn’t even know what he was talking about. He took another look up at the window but there was no one there; the drab grey curtains had been closed. For a minute or two he couldn’t put Trixie’s face out of his mind; she’d looked so unhappy.

  Realising that Fred had got the better of him and that there was nothing he could do about it, he dismissed it from his mind, turned up the collar of his jacket, and set off for home.

  The sound of Cilla sobbing and her repeating Trixie’s name over and over again in a high-pitched monotonous wail as he reached his own home and let himself in, added to his irritation.

  ‘Can’t you keep that drippy idiot quiet?’ he thundered the moment he walked into the room. He glared at Maggie as he shrugged off his jacket and settled down in his armchair, loosening the laces of his boots and kicking them off.

  ‘She’s missing our Trixie and so am I,’ Maggie retorted. ‘I think it’s about time you told me what’s happened to her. I don’t like the rumours I’ve been hearing,’ she added darkly.

  ‘Bloody gossip, you mean, don’t you?’ he muttered. ‘Women with nothing better to do but stand jangling to each other instead of minding their own business.’

  ‘Is it gossip, though, or is it the truth what people are saying about our Trixie?’ Maggie said, her voice shaking as she confronted him nervously.

  ‘How should I bloody well know?’ he sneered. ‘I’m too busy grafting to put food on the table to listen to such tales.’

  ‘What about when you go to the pub? What are the men in there saying, or haven’t you dared tell any of them that you’ve sold your daughter into slavery?’

  ‘What the hell are you on about?’ Sam snarled. His face was red and his eyes hard and menacing. Maggie knew that any minute now he might lash out and she was bracing herself for the impact of his fist when it landed.

  Sensitive to the tense atmosphere, Cilla began banging with her fists against the door and crying uncontrollably. Before Maggie could do anything to stop him, Sam was out of his chair and across the room and had picked up the child by the scruff of her neck and thrown her out of the room on to the landing.

  As he slammed the door shut, leaving her out there in the darkness, her screams became so ear-piercing that other people living in the house started shouting out to them to do something to shut her up before they called the scuffers.

  As Maggie rushed to rescue her, Sam’s hand went out to grab hold of her and stop her.

  ‘Leave me be,’ she hissed. ‘You know Cilla’s terrified of the dark; she’ll go demented shut out there on her own,’ she said opening the door for Cilla to come back into the room. Cilla ran to the corner of the room and sat there, clutching Bonzo and rocking back and forth.

  ‘She’s barmy already,’ he guffawed. ‘Wonder who the hell it is she takes after?’

  Maggie paused and looked at him with real hatred. ‘She’s your child,’ she commented quietly. ‘Before you went off to war you were a loving father, always taking our Trixie on your knee and making a fuss of her. It might help if you did that with Cilla instead of spurning her and bawling and shouting at her, like you do the rest of us.’

  ‘The less I see of her the better I like it,’ he stated coldly. ‘When I went into the army I left behind a comfortable home and a wife and daughter I could be proud of, and after fighting in mud and muck for the sake of my country I come back to a shambles. Living here is not much better than being over there in the trenches. We scrimp and scrape to make ends meet and when you’re not moaning about things I have to put up with you nagging me about something or other.’

  ‘If you didn’t spend half your wages down at the boozer then we wouldn’t have to scrimp and scrape,’ she rejoined pointedly. ‘Without my share of Trixie’s wages coming in each week I’m going to be worse off than ever.’

  ‘How the hell do you make that out?’ he demanded, staring at her angrily. ‘You’ll have one less mouth to feed, so you don’t need as much money, you daft ha’porth.’

  ‘And one less pair of hands to help me look after little Cilla. Do you ever stop and think how much of my time she takes up? I have to wash and dress her, cut up her food for her and keep an eye on her every minute of the day.’

  ‘You fuss over her far too much. She’s big enough to start doing things for herself. The more you wait on her, washing her and combing her hair, the less likely she is to try and do it for herself. She’ll soon find out how to get the grub inside her when she’s hungry enough. Stop treating her like a two-year-old. She’s turned seven and she ought to be at school like other kids.’

  ‘In her state! She can barely walk more than a few yards unless someone is holding her hand.’

  ‘No, and that’s because you push her everywhere in that damn pram. Make her use her legs.’

  ‘Perhaps if you showed more interest and took her out for a little walk now and again it would help—’

  Maggie’s words were cut short by a slap across her face that brought tears to her eyes but in no way stopped her diatribe.

  ‘God only knows what you’ve done with our Trixie but, believe me, I will find out. If she’s come to any harm then heaven help you, Sam Jackson, I’ll get my revenge.’

  He stared at her in surprise; disconcerted that she dared to answer him back. ‘What the hell do you think you can do to hurt me, you silly bitch?’ he asked scornfully.

  ‘I’ll go to the police and when they hear about the way you’re always knocking us about then if Trixie doesn’t turn up safe and sound or something terrible happens to her, you’ll get strung up for murder,’ Maggie threatened.

  Sam didn’t answer. As he made to walk away Maggie once again grabbed hold of his arm and stopped him. ‘Is she with that fellow Fred Linacre? If she is, then I want to know where he lives; I’m going round to see if she’s all right and—’

  He shook himself free, pushing her away so hard that she lost her balance and crashed backwards into the wall. By the time she’d recovered her breath and managed to pull herself together he’d left and slammed the door.

  Andrew Bacon compared the time on the bank’s wall clock with his own pocket watch, and then once more checked the ledger in front of him to make sure every detail was correct. Satisfied, h
e carried it over to the big iron safe that dominated one corner of the office and carefully locked it away.

  Returning to his seat at the counter he made sure that all his pens and pencils, date stamp, roller and ink pad were neatly aligned before he left for the day.

  It had been a strange few weeks. He had started the new year off in good spirits after one of the most enjoyable weekends he’d had for a long time. He usually went out with Jake and one or two of their friends, chaps who’d been at school with them, but this had been different.

  For a start it had been New Year’s Eve and he’d gone with Jake and his sister and Trixie to a dance and he was certainly glad that he had. Afterwards they’d gone down to the Pier Head as the ships all sounded their hooters and sirens and they had joined in all the revelry.

  He’d never had much to do with girls, but Trixie was different. She was pretty, for a start, and she was so easy to talk to, not like the prim, prissy girls who came to the night-school classes he attended, or the loud-mouthed girls he’d known at school. He’d enjoyed the evening. So much so that he’d asked her if he could take her to the pictures.

  She’d agreed to think about it and to see if she could get out to meet him. Then they’d made an arrangement through lvy and Jake to meet up on Wednesday so that they could finalise the arrangement.

  When Trixie hadn’t turned up on Wednesday night, though, he’d felt peeved. He was sure she liked him and he wondered why she was being quite so reticent.

  He hadn’t said anything about it to Jake because he’d felt such a fool at being stood up, but he wondered if he should mention it to him when they met tonight in order to satisfy his curiosity about why she’d done it.

  Trixie and Jake’s sister were such good friends that she was bound to have said something to Ivy about it and that was probably the only way he’d ever find out.

  To his surprise, he found Jake waiting outside, lolling up against the bank wall smoking a cigarette.

  ‘Talk of the devil.’ He grinned as he went up to him. ‘I was just thinking of you; there’s something I want to ask you,’ Andrew said.