Dancing in the Moonlight

by Rita Bradshaw

  ‘What?’ A look of almost comical amazement stretched his face as he saw his mother wielding the big poker.

  ‘Put him down, I mean it. I can’t stand by and let you do this.’

  ‘You’ll not use that on me.’

  ‘I will, if I have to.’

  Jacob chose that moment to move and groan from within the blanket and several things happened in quick succession. Donald had been more alert than he had let on and, seeing Tom momentarily distracted, he used every ounce of his remaining strength to twist his body and bring his legs in a cutting motion to the back of Tom’s knees. With Jacob’s weight over one shoulder, it was enough to knock Tom off balance. At the same time Enid swung the poker with all her might, intending to hit Tom’s other arm and make him drop Jacob. Instead the full weight of the poker smashed into his outstretched throat as he stumbled forward, his head up as he attempted to regain his balance. The impact was deadly, crushing Tom’s windpipe as though it were made of eggshell and fracturing bone and rupturing muscle.

  Tom crumpled, clutching his throat, as Jacob thudded to one side and a horrible gurgling sound filled the kitchen. Enid, careless of Donald struggling to sit up and of Jacob clawing his way out of the folds of the blanket, knelt down, taking Tom’s head in her lap. For long seconds, his eyes bulging in terror, he fought for breath against the choking blood and bone, his legs scrabbling in his death throes against the stone slabs.

  And then a silence descended. Donald sat against a table leg, looking as though he was already dead, and Enid had collapsed over Tom’s still body. Jacob, having finally got his head free of the blanket, was unconscious once more. Then Enid began to scream.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Later that day the police car that had arrived at Lucy’s house an hour earlier brought her, with Ruby at her side, to the hospital where Donald and Jacob were patients and where Tom lay in the morgue. At first she hadn’t been able to take in what the two policemen were telling her. But when she had, instead of breaking down as Ruby had feared, she had quietly insisted that she be taken to see her brother and Jacob.

  The Detective Inspector and Detective Sergeant saw the two women to the entrance of the ward, but didn’t go in. They had already questioned the injured men and were satisfied with their answers, which tied in with what the mother, Mrs Crawford, had told them. That it had opened a whole can of worms, which they were now going to have to sort out, wasn’t lost on either of them.

  ‘Rum do, this,’ said the DI to his Sergeant as the doors of the ward closed behind Lucy and Ruby. ‘There’s been the odd whisper about Tom Crawford in the past, but then any bloke who gets on is a target for rumours. It’ll upset some of the bigwigs on the town council when the muck gets aired in public, but with his own mother saying he was a wrong ’un, they won’t be able to keep it quiet.’

  ‘I wonder what made the lass’s brother and Crawford’s brother prepared to shop him suddenly? They must have known about it for years, and the lass’s brother even worked for him for a time. I know the mother said it was because Crawford had pulled a fast one to get out of fighting for King and country, and it had been the straw that broke the camel’s back – or backs, in this case – but I don’t know if I buy that. Do you?’

  The DI shrugged. ‘Good a reason as any. It was enough to put the wind up Crawford anyway. He did the pair of them some damage, and I reckon he still might have done for the lass’s brother, by the look of him. It was only the mother stepping in with the poker that stopped him. Takes some guts that, but then, as she said, she thought murder was going to be done.’

  ‘Murder was done,’ said the DS, grinning.

  ‘Don’t be facetious.’ The DI didn’t appreciate his subordinate’s questionable sense of humour. ‘It was self-defence. Crawford had gone stark staring barmy and likely she thought she was next.’

  ‘It’ll be interesting delving into Crawford’s so-called business transactions in some detail.’

  ‘Aye.’ The DI brightened. The lass’s brother had mentioned the Kanes and he’d been waiting for a long time to pin something on them. ‘Aye, it will.’

  In the ward, Lucy and Ruby were sitting with the Sister at the nurses’ station. She had sat them down immediately, saying she needed to talk to them before they saw the patients. ‘Mr Crawford has concussion,’ she said gently, ‘and we thought at first his jaw was broken, but it appears it is not.’ She paused. ‘I’m afraid your brother is much worse. I understand he was already ill before the assault?’

  Lucy nodded. ‘Donald has stomach cancer.’

  ‘Quite so. Dr Ingram has examined him and he feels you ought to prepare yourselves. I’m very sorry.’

  Lucy and Ruby held hands tightly. ‘How long before . . . ’

  ‘It’s hard to tell, but he’s very poorly. Very poorly indeed.’

  ‘Can we see him?’

  ‘Dr Ingram has given him something for the pain and he will sleep for some hours now.’

  Lucy gripped Ruby’s hand tighter. ‘We’d still like to see him, if that’s possible.’

  ‘Of course. Come this way.’ The Sister rustled to her feet and led the way to one of the two beds in the ward surrounded by curtains, which were next to each other. She stopped at the first one and drew back the curtain so that Lucy and Ruby could step inside. A nurse was sitting on a chair by the head of the bed and she stood up, looking at the Sister. Lucy stared down at the colourless face on the pillow, grief overwhelming her. It was Ruby who whispered to the Sister, ‘Could I stay with him? While my sister sees Jacob – Mr Crawford? I’d like to sit with him, if I may?’

  The Sister’s somewhat austere face softened. ‘I don’t see why not, my dear.’ She beckoned to the nurse, who left them. Lucy touched the paper-thin hand lying so still on the starched white counterpane. It was cool and dry. Blinking back hot tears, she murmured to Ruby, ‘I won’t be long.’

  Outside the curtains again, the Sister said, ‘Mr Crawford’s had something to help him sleep, too. He was very disorientated earlier, but don’t be alarmed. It will pass.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  This time there was no nurse sitting by the bed. When the Sister had closed the curtains again, leaving them alone, Lucy tiptoed to Jacob’s side. The lower part of his face was all bruises and badly swollen, and in contrast the rest was almost as white as the sheets, but then he opened his eyes and he became her Jacob. ‘Lucy.’ He blinked, as though worried she was an illusion. ‘Lucy.’

  ‘I’m here.’ She took his hand. ‘Don’t try to talk. Just rest now.’

  ‘Donald?’

  ‘He’s sleeping.’

  ‘He told me, Lucy. Told – told me every-everything.’

  ‘I know, I know. Shush now, go to sleep.’

  ‘So – so sorry, Lucy. My own brother. Bad. Rotten.’

  She brought his hand to her lips, kissing it and resting it by the side of her face. ‘Don’t worry, he can’t hurt us any more. It’s over, Jacob.’

  ‘My mam . . . ’

  ‘I’ll go and see her, if you want me to.’

  He nodded, wincing as the movement hurt his head. ‘Headache.’

  ‘Shut your eyes. It will make you feel better.’

  He did for a moment, opening them to say, ‘I love you. I always will.’

  ‘And I love you. I always have.’

  His eyes shut again and immediately he slept, but the smile stayed in place.

  Donald died just before midnight. Flora and Bess had come to join Lucy and Ruby at his bedside, Matthew and Charley remaining at home in charge of Daisy, so his four sisters were with him at the last. He had been awake a little while before, and each of them had been able to tell him how much they loved him and how precious he was.

  ‘Don’t deserve it,’ he whispered to Lucy when she bent over the bed and kissed him for the umpteenth time. ‘Should have stayed.’

  ‘All forgotten, my darling.’ She stroked his face gently. ‘Be at peace now. You’ve given me Jacob, and
I don’t have to be frightened any more. I love you so much, we all love you.’

  ‘Ready – ready to see Ernie now. Can look him in the face. Couldn’t have before.’

  ‘I know, I know, but you’ve saved me. You can tell him that, can’t you, and kiss Mam and Da for me.’

  A flicker of a smile touched the grey lips. ‘Remember me sometimes.’

  ‘Every day, my darling. Every single day.’ He closed his eyes, but this time he didn’t open them again and it was only a minute or two later when the Sister came silently to the bedside, taking the hand that Lucy wasn’t holding and checking his pulse. ‘He’s gone, my dears,’ she said softly. ‘And so peacefully. Be glad for him.’

  Lucy returned alone to the hospital the following afternoon. She had gone to see Enid in the morning, who was in a terrible state. The two women had cried and talked together for a long time, and then cried some more. Enid was utterly broken, a shell of her former self. Lucy didn’t think she would ever be totally whole again, but Aaron had been there and Lucy had been amazed at how gentle he was with his wife. She had left the Crawfords’ house feeling terribly sad, but with Aaron’s last words to her on the doorstep ringing in her ears. ‘I shan’t let her sink, lass, don’t you fret,’ he’d whispered. ‘I think a bit of her you know, always have, but she didn’t make room for me afore. But she needs me now an’ that’s not a bad thing.’

  She had always thought, should a miracle happen and Tom Crawford meet his end, that she would feel like dancing and singing and shouting for joy, but curiously a great weight was pressing down on her heart. Not for him. Never for him. But the cost of his demise had been so great. Donald dying, Jacob hurt and Enid crushed so that she would never fully rise again. And the repercussions would follow them for a long time. The rumours, the gossip, the avid curiosity. Tom’s evil presence would continue to overshadow them and cast a dark pall on their lives.

  She had said as much to Ruby when she’d returned home for a bite of lunch before it was time to go to the hospital. Her sister’s response had taken her aback and, if she was honest, had offended her a little.

  ‘Don’t talk so daft,’ Ruby had said in her forthright way. ‘I know you’re grieving for Donald, we all are, and it can’t have been pleasant at the Crawfords’ this morning, but don’t start down that road. This will be forgotten sooner than you think. With the war and the bombing, folk have got a darn sight more to talk about than the odd bit of scandal. And don’t you go giving Tom Crawford the power to affect your life now he’s gone, or it’ll be your fault and no one else’s. He’s dead, lass. Dead. And burning in hell, if there’s any justice. And you and Jacob and Daisy and me and the rest of us are alive. Overshadow us with his presence – my backside!’

  Lucy had been so affronted that she hadn’t said another word before leaving the house, but now, as she entered the confines of the hospital, a reluctant smile played across her lips. Oh, Ruby, she thought, don’t ever change. And it came to her just how much of a rock Ruby had been over the years. She would tell her so when she got home, she promised herself. And apologize for being huffy. Because her sister was right. She and Jacob were alive, and she wouldn’t allow any spectres or ghosts from the past to spoil what little time they’d have together before he had to go away again.

  When she reached the ward the Sister came hurrying over before she’d barely stepped foot in the door. ‘Hello, Mrs Alridge.’ Her face was kind. ‘How are you and the rest of the family bearing up?’

  For a moment Lucy had thought it was bad news about Jacob, as the curtains were still drawn around his bed, but no doubt they were just seeing to it that he was kept quiet. ‘We’re all right, thank you, Sister. How is Jacob?’ she added, looking towards his bed again.

  ‘A little better, but very sleepy. That’s the way with concussion. But he’s a young, strong lad and I wouldn’t be surprised to see him on his feet in a day or so.’ She hesitated. ‘We’re all very sorry about what’s happened, but keep your chin up, my dear, and look to the future.’

  Lucy smiled. There were nice people in the world. Kind people who weren’t out to gossip and tear others to pieces with their tongues. That’s what she had to remember in the next weeks and months when some of the old wives who came into the shops whispered behind their hands. And they would. And what they didn’t know for sure, they would make up and would thoroughly enjoy themselves in the process. She had got on, that was the thing. Risen above her beginnings and, as such, would be termed an upstart behind her back. And upstarts were always suspect.

  She stood for a moment outside the curtains, feeling suddenly shy. Jacob knew everything, and she was glad he did – so glad – but deep, deep inside there was still a feeling of shame, of degradation about what had happened that night so long ago. She knew in her head it was silly, that it hadn’t been her fault – she and Ruby had talked about this often – but she didn’t want him to see her differently. Or for it to colour the way he regarded Daisy. Yesterday he’d been barely conscious, but today he would have had time to think about things. What Tom had done to her, her running away when Jacob was still so ill in the hospital, marrying a man she didn’t love, keeping the truth from him for so long . . . She truly didn’t see, even now, what she could have done differently, but that wasn’t to say that Jacob would understand. She had hurt him so badly, and not just once.

  She glanced around the ward as if seeking help. The odd visitor or two was trickling in now and a low hum of conversation was beginning. She couldn’t delay any more. Nerving herself, she moved the curtain and stepped into the little private bubble that the drapes provided. Jacob’s eyes were open and he was half-sitting up, but it was the look on his face as he saw her that told her, without words, that her fears had been groundless. And then she was in his arms, and he was kissing her as she had never been kissed – kissing her until the breath seemed to leave her body and he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

  ‘Oh, my darling, my darling.’ His mouth had moved from hers, but only to whisper endearments. ‘I love you, my sweet girl. More than life itself.’ And then he was kissing her again, until a chair scraping outside the curtains at the next bed to Jacob’s, and a voice saying, ‘What’s the matter with him next door then? On his way out, is he?’ brought them back to reality.

  She drew away slightly, their faces still close, and as if it had reminded him, Jacob whispered, ‘I’m sorry about Don, Lucy. He was a grand bloke. The police said Mam told them that after Tom had knocked me out, Donald went for him with a knife. He must have had it in his pocket and meant to do for Tom all along. He was going to leave me with you and find him, I’m sure of it, because he told me some cock-and-bull story about having to come to the hospital for some pills, but they knew nothing about it.’

  She had been leaning across the bed, but now she sat down in the chair without letting go of his hand, nodding as she whispered back, ‘He felt he had to make everything right, I think. I saw your mother this morning and she said that, before the police came, he asked her to keep my name out of things. Oh, Jacob, she’s beside herself. I don’t know what will become of her now.’

  He didn’t reply directly to this, shutting his eyes for a moment and then opening them as he squeezed her fingers. ‘I can’t think of anything but you and what you’ve gone through. A lifetime won’t be long enough for me to make it up to you.’

  ‘None of it matters now.’

  ‘I hate him, lass. With every fibre of my being, I hate him. His death was too quick, he should have suffered more.’

  ‘Stop it.’ She put a gentle finger to his lips and repeated the words Ruby had spoken to her. ‘Don’t give him the power to affect your life now that he’s dead. He’s gone, and we’re here. Please, if you love me, try and think of it like that.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  She could see that talking had tired him and he was struggling to keep his eyes open. ‘Sleep a while, I’m not going anywhere.’

  He smiled tiredly.
‘I don’t want to waste a minute of being together. I can’t believe I’m stuck in here. This wasn’t what I’d planned for my leave.’

  She stroked his forehead as his eyes closed. ‘What had you planned?’ she whispered softly.

  ‘I was going to wine and dine you, take you and Daisy out for tea, take you dancing . . .’ His voice was slurring, becoming slow. ‘I wanted you to know . . .’ he sighed, ‘to know that I . . . ’

  He slept. Lucy smiled, gazing down at his battered face as though it was the most beautiful sight in the world.

  Visiting was over before Jacob awoke, but one of the nurses promised to tell him that Lucy had stayed until the bell had sounded. Visiting hours were from two to four o’clock in the afternoon on Tuesday and Thursday only during the week, and from two to five o’clock at weekends. Consequently Lucy spent the following day, a Friday, in an agony of frustration at the rules that kept them apart.

  She had a surprise visit in the afternoon, though. Abe and Dolly knocked on the door, Dolly full of self-recrimination and tears for the way she’d misjudged Lucy, and Abe repeating over and over again, ‘We didn’t know, lass. We just didn’t know.’ They had been to see Enid and Aaron, who had told them the full story whilst swearing them to secrecy about the true identity of Daisy’s father, for the child’s sake. By the time they left Lucy knew she had two staunch new friends.

  On Saturday Daisy asked to come with her to the hospital and Lucy hadn’t got the heart to say that she wanted time with Jacob alone. As it happened, the three of them only had a few minutes together before first Dolly and Abe and then Enid and Aaron turned up. There was a strict rule of four visitors to a bed, so Lucy and Daisy made their goodbyes and left. Lucy could have cried, but she comforted herself with the fact that Jacob was much better. Time was slipping away, though. He was due to return to his unit soon.