by Kitty Neale
‘Yes. A couple came to view it yesterday and have put in an offer.’
‘That’s great.’
‘Sheila and I have decided to rent a place together. She wants to invest the money from the sale of the house to give her an income. If we find a place with a reasonable rent we can split it between us, saving us both money.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ Sally told her. ‘But have you decided where?’
‘Yes, in London, but it’s got to be somewhere that Harry can’t find us. And we’ve decided to change our surnames to make it harder for him.’
Sally laughed. ‘How clever of you. So have you any idea when you’ll be coming home?’
‘No, not really. As soon as the sale of the house goes through, I expect. Now, how’s your pregnancy coming along? Any problems?’
‘I’ve still got swollen ankles, but it was my last day at work today so I’m hoping they’ll go down. I wanted to carry on working a little longer, but as my blood pressure is up, Sid insisted that it’s time for me to stay at home. He was wonderful, paying me a month’s wages, and giving me a lovely present too, a complete baby layout.’
‘Oh, that was kind of him. He’s going to miss you, Sally.’
‘I think he’ll be all right. He takes a lot more interest in the shop now, and I finally persuaded him to advertise for another assistant.’
‘What if you want to go back after you’ve had the baby?’
‘That’s just what Sid said. But I don’t know if it would be practical taking a baby to work, and I wouldn’t be able to afford a childminder. I just couldn’t give him a firm answer, Auntie. Anyway he needs an assistant now, he really can’t cope on his own.’
‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. Now, has your mother been down to see you this week?’
‘She’s coming with gran tomorrow,’ Sally told her.
‘Well, that’s all right then. Give them my love. I had better ring off now, darling. I’ll talk to you again next week.’
‘All right, Auntie. Give my love to Sheila and the children.’
‘I will, my dear. Goodbye.’
The house was quiet, and after making herself a hot drink, Sally settled in front of the television. She looked down at her tummy, thinking about her baby. Would it be a girl or a boy, she wondered, resting her hand on the large mound. A wave of loneliness swept over her and once again she found her thoughts turning to Arthur. Jenny must have given birth to her baby by now, so why hadn’t he written to his parents? It didn’t make sense.
God, she still missed him so much. Was he happy? Did he ever think about her? She had tried so hard to put him from her mind, knowing that she would never see him again, but sometimes when she was alone, it was impossible.
Stop it! Stop thinking about him, she admonished herself, shaking her head. The baby kicked and she stroked her tummy again, swivelling sideways to put her legs up on the sofa. They looked awful, she thought, swollen and ugly.
There was the sound of a key in the lock, footsteps across the hall, and she looked round as the sitting-room door opened. ‘Hello, forgot something, did you?’ she asked, expecting to see Ann. Her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t Ann standing on the threshold. ‘No, oh no,’ she gasped.
‘Hello, Sally,’ Harry said, with a menacing smile as he dangled a set of keys. ‘It was a bit remiss of Mary not to have changed the locks, wasn’t it?’
‘What do you want? Why are you here?’ Sally whispered, feeling her heart thudding with fear when she saw the look of utter hatred in his eyes.
‘I came to see you, of course,’ he said, advancing further into the room.
‘You’d better go, my friends will be back in a minute,’ she told him desperately.
‘Don’t bother to lie. I’ve been watching the house and saw them leave. It was easy enough to follow them and they boarded a bus ten minutes ago.’
Feeling as though she was moving in slow motion, Sally managed to stand up, but could feel her legs trembling. ‘What do you want?’ she asked again, backing away as he moved slowly towards her.
‘You ruined my life, Sally – do you know that? I had everything once. A wife and daughter who loved me – a beautiful son. But now, because of you, I’ve got nothing. Nothing!’ he spat.
‘I … I … didn’t ruin your life,’ she gasped, and as he almost reached her, she edged sideways, trying to aim for the door.
He moved too, blocking her path, standing right in front of her now. Then, looking down, he eyed her stomach, and with a sardonic smile on his face, said, ‘So you’re pregnant. How nice, and how would you like it if your baby was taken away from you?’
She felt her heart jolt at the implied threat. What could she do? How could she get away? ‘Look, I know you’re angry,’ she placated, ‘but I don’t see how you can blame me.’
‘You don’t see!’ he yelled, making her jump in fear. ‘Let me tell you, I’ve thought long and hard while I was in prison. After all, I had plenty of time. I soon realised that Sheila would have forgiven me for marrying her without divorcing Mary. She loves me and I could have talked her round. Your aunt was a cold fish, and becoming as mad as a March hare. She wouldn’t have given me a divorce, just out of spite, and I’m sure I could have convinced Sheila of that.’
‘But you didn’t ask her for a divorce,’ Sally protested.
‘No, because I knew what her answer would be. But let’s talk about what you did, shall we? You told Sheila that I was molesting Linda,’ he spat, eyes narrowed in anger. ‘And now she won’t take me back. She even reported me to the police, and obtained a court injunction to keep me away from my son.’ He shook his head, his voice rising again. ‘And she’s got Mary staying with her. Mary, of all people! All because of you and your big mouth.’
‘But I had no choice! Surely you realise that?’
‘I wasn’t hurting Linda. I love her, and she loves me.’
She felt a wave of nausea. He must be mad, she thought, turning her head and desperately looking for a means of escape.
‘And I loved you too, Sally,’ he continued. ‘I didn’t hurt you, did I? Like Linda, you enjoyed it.’
At that her temper flared. ‘My God, you’re disgusting,’ she cried. ‘Of course I didn’t enjoy it! You nearly ruined my life. I was terrified of men after what you did to me.’
‘Oh, don’t give me that. You’re pregnant, for God’s sake. You girls are all the same, crying that you don’t like it, when all the time you love it really. But now I’m going to make you pay for what you’ve done to me,’ he snarled.
Sally recoiled. She tried once more to make a dash for the door, but he grabbed her arm, yanking her violently back. She screamed then – screamed in terror.
‘Shut up,’ he hissed, holding his hand over her mouth. ‘If you scream again you’ll be sorry. Now I’m going to take my hand away, but I’m warning you – keep quiet. Do you understand!’
She nodded her head frantically, and as he removed his hand she staggered away from him.
‘You’ve got to be punished, Sally. You do realise that, don’t you?’ he said, his voice heavy with menace as he moved towards her again.
She backed off until she could go no further, feeling a chair against her legs. He was almost level now, and she could see madness in his eyes. Oh God, my baby, she thought, clutching her stomach protectively. ‘Leave me alone, please! Leave me alone!’ she cried.
‘You’ve been a naughty girl, Sally,’ he told her, a cold smile on his face as he reached out.
She collapsed onto the chair, feeling the room spinning. I’m going to faint, was her last thought, as the room tilted.
‘You’re all right now, miss. Come on, wake up.’
Sally opened her eyes, and feeling a wave of nausea, clamped a hand over her mouth.
‘Can you tell us who the man was?’
Sally’s vision cleared and she looked at the policeman crouching by the side of the chair. ‘Harry, it was Harry,’ she gasped. Then, unable to hold it
, she leaned forward and was violently sick.
‘Perhaps we should call another ambulance.’
The voice came from behind her, and turning she saw a second Constable. Wiping a shaking hand across her mouth, she protested, ‘No, please, I’m all right,’ and as her eyes frantically scanned the room, she cried, ‘Has he gone?’
The two Constables exchanged looks, one shaking his head slightly. Sally’s brow creased. They were hiding something, but what?
She tried to stand up, but finding that her legs wouldn’t support her, she slumped back down again.
‘You shouldn’t be on your own, miss. If you won’t let us call an ambulance, is there someone we can contact?’
‘My mother isn’t on the telephone. Could you call Elsie Jones? Her number is on the pad in the hall. But, please, will you tell me what’s happened?’
‘All in good time, miss. Now, are you up to answering a few questions?’
‘Yes, but I need to go to the bathroom, and could I have a drink of water?’
The policeman nodded and leaning forward, he helped her out of the chair. Sally averted her eyes from the vomit on her aunt’s rug and slowly made her way upstairs, her mind racing. Something had happened. The police were there, but how?
She was away for some time as, not only using the toilet, she ran water into the sink and washed her hands and face. Reaching for a towel to dry herself, she gagged at the foul taste in her mouth and grabbing a toothbrush, brushed her teeth.
When she returned to the sitting room, her nose wrinkled at the smell. ‘I must clear this mess up,’ she told the policemen. It was easier to think of practical things, to turn her thoughts away from Harry.
‘Leave it for a minute, miss,’ one of them insisted. ‘Please sit down, we need to get a few things clear.’
As Sally reluctantly took a seat on the sofa, he sat beside her. Then, pulling a notebook from his top pocket, he licked the end of his pencil and asked, ‘Was the man attacking you?’
‘Yes, sort of,’ she whispered.
‘Could you explain what you mean by “sort of”.’
Sally stared at him. How could she explain? No, as far as she could remember, he hadn’t actually hit her. It was more the implied threat, the look in his eyes that had terrified her. ‘I … I thought that he was going to hurt me,’ she stammered. ‘He was so angry, and he stopped me when I tried to run out of the room.’
‘How did he do that, miss?’
‘He … he grabbed me, and when I screamed he put his hand over my mouth.’
‘What happened then?’ the policeman asked, scribbling in his pad.
‘I don’t remember, I think I must have passed out.’
‘I see. Now you said it was Harry – do you know his full name?’
‘Yes, it’s Harry Taylor, he’s my uncle.’
‘Why was he attacking you?’
The second policeman reappeared in the room, and as he held out a glass she looked at him gratefully. Taking sips of the water she gathered her thoughts then, taking a deep breath, she told them what had happened, and why. ‘Did you catch him?’ she asked tremulously.
‘In a manner of speaking, miss.’
Sally frowned as she looked at him. What did he mean?
There was a screech of tyres outside, the sound of car doors banging, and then Elsie was in the room, Bert behind her. ‘Oh Sally, Sally, are you all right?’ she cried. ‘What’s been going on here?’ she snapped, glaring at the policemen.
The Constables glanced at each other, then one of them gave a small nod, after which his colleague spoke. ‘We had a call from a neighbour to say she could hear screaming coming from this house. When we arrived we endeavoured to apprehend a man who tried to run off. This young lady tells us it was her uncle, a Mr …’ He looked at his notebook, scanning the page, ‘Harry Taylor.’
‘No!’ Elsie gasped. ‘Oh my God. Sally, what happened? Why was he here?’
‘He said it was my fault that Sheila wouldn’t let him see his son.’ Sally turned to the policemen. ‘Please tell me, did you catch him?’ she asked again.
‘I’m afraid there was an accident,’ one of them replied. ‘While our colleagues were in pursuit, Mr Taylor ran into that block of flats on the corner and made his way up to the roof.’ He hesitated, rubbing his hand around his chin. ‘We think he must have panicked, miss. You see, he climbed onto the parapet and then – well, he fell.’
Sally’s jaw dropped. What did he mean? Surely Harry hadn’t fallen off the roof. ‘Is he all right?’ she asked in confusion.
‘No, miss, I’m afraid he’s dead.’
She slumped, unable to stop the surge of relief that flooded through her, but then almost immediately felt overwhelmed with guilt.
Elsie came over, and sitting down between her and the policeman she took her hand. ‘Sally, where’s Ann?’
‘She’s out with Billy,’ she told her, finding that her whole body was beginning to tremble. ‘Someone will have to ring Sheila, she’ll have to be told. Oh God, my aunt too.’
‘You’re shaking like a leaf, love. Calm down and leave it to me – I’ll tell them. Now listen, you’ve had a terrible shock and when Ann comes back you’re all coming home with me.’ She stood up then, and with her arms folded across her chest, she addressed the officers. ‘I hope you’re finished with your questions. I’m sure you can see that she’s had just about enough.’
‘For now, yes, but if the young lady is going to stay with you, I will need your address, Mrs Jones.’
Sally felt exhausted. She heard Elsie talking to the policemen, Bert too, but the voices washed over her. At one point she became aware of the smell of disinfectant, and the sight of Elsie scrubbing the rug. Then she was being led to Bert’s car and found herself sitting in the back with Ann, who was holding her hand, her face drawn with concern.
‘I’m calling a doctor as soon as we get home, Sally. You don’t look at all well. Are you in any pain?’
Sally shook her head. No, she wasn’t in any pain. She just felt numb.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sally had seen the emergency doctor, who examined her, frowning when he took her blood pressure. He had insisted she stay in bed, and now, three days later, she pushed at the blankets impatiently. Elsie had given her a lovely room overlooking the back garden, which was alive with a profusion of summer flowers. There was a trellis below the window entwined with honeysuckle, the heady perfume drifting into the room. She knew she should appreciate it, but hated its confinement. Ever since her childhood, being forced to stay in a room made her feel trapped.
‘The police are here to see you,’ Elsie said, poking her head round the door.
Sally hastily tugged the blankets up again, looking at them warily as the same two Constables approached the bed. ‘Hello, miss. Sorry to bother you again, but we just need to clear up a few more details.’
What can I tell them that they don’t know already? she thought. How many times had she been over her statement? Sheila and Ruth had travelled back from Blackpool, as shocked as she was by what had happened. They too had been questioned and were now, like her, waiting to attend the inquest into Harry’s death.
Now, answering their questions, she went over the same things yet again, sighing with relief when they rose to leave. ‘Can you tell me when the inquest will be?’ she asked.
‘No, I’m afraid not. We’re conducting an internal investigation, and the inquest will follow, but it could be some time yet.’
Sally closed her eyes momentarily, still full of guilt, not only about the relief she had felt when told of Harry’s death, but the fear that she might have caused it. Had she over-reacted? Had she imagined the madness in his eyes? If she hadn’t screamed, the police wouldn’t have been called, and her uncle would still be alive. It weighed heavily on her mind, causing her sleepless nights.
‘We’ll be off now, miss. I don’t think we will need to question you again.’
‘Thank you,’ Sally murmured a
s Elsie escorted them out.
A few minutes later she pushed the blankets away again, and throwing her legs over the side of the bed, stood up gingerly, only to hear Elsie’s voice, a hint of chastisement evident. ‘Now then, Sally. You know what the doctor said. You’ve got to stay in bed for at least a week.’
‘But I’m fine,’ she said as Elsie advanced across the room, carrying a tray.
‘You don’t necessarily feel ill with high blood-pressure, and until it goes down you must rest. Now come on, I’ve made you a sandwich.’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘You’ve hardly eaten in days, Sally. Think of the baby, darling.’
Sighing, she got back into bed and Elsie placed the tray across her lap, saying, ‘It’s ham, a nice bit of honey roast. And I’ve made you a glass of lemon barley water too.’
Sally half-heartedly bit into a sandwich while Elsie started to bustle around, tidying up the already tidy room, moving things around on top of the dressing-table.
‘We had better think about your antenatal appointments, Sally. When is your next one due?’
‘Some time next week, I think. But I’m booked into St George’s hospital in Tooting and it’s a long way from here.’
‘Yes, it is. And too great a distance to travel when you’re in labour. I tell you what, where’s your appointment card? I’ll give them a ring and see if we can change hospitals.’
Sally frowned, trying to recall when she had seen it last. ‘I can’t remember. Ann unpacked for me – is it in one of the drawers?’
Elsie rummaged. ‘No, there’s no sign of it.’
‘You could try looking in my bag,’ Sally suggested.
Picking it up, Elsie looked inside. ‘I can’t see it in here. Hang on, there’s a pocket on the front, isn’t there.’
As Elsie’s words sank in, Sally reacted, her voice loud as she cried, ‘No, Elsie, no, don’t look in there!’
It was too late; she had found it, her face puzzled as she drew it out. ‘What are you doing with this?’ she asked, her fingers stroking the material. ‘This is Arthur’s tie. I recognise it because he spilled hair oil on it just before we went to the hall for his going-away party. Look, you can still see the residue.’