by Tania Crosse
‘Yeah, course.’ Gert rubbed her hand up and down Hillie’s back. ‘Some New Year’s Eve, eh, kid?’
Hillie peered out from Gert’s protective embrace. She felt as if someone was cranking a handle to pump the blood around her body, since she was so numbed, she was sure it couldn’t manage of its own accord. The beautiful dress she’d made for the party was ruined. Stained with blood. It had dried down her legs. Her hands were painted deep crimson, caked in her fingernails. She’d have to wash before she went to bed…
‘Ah, our police surgeon.’ Inspector Chamings stood up as the door opened. ‘He’ll take a look at you, Mrs Baxter, before you leave. And… oh. Who have we here?’
As Sergeant Hoskins showed the doctor into the room, he stood back to allow someone else to enter as well. A tall, young black man dressed in a long, colourful robe with beads hanging round his neck. Despite the tense, tragic atmosphere, surprise and a general sense of something uplifting permeated everyone’s spirits.
‘Patrick! What are you doing here?’ Jessica gasped.
‘I arrived late at the party because I had an emergency at the practice. So when they told me what had happened, I came straight here. I am so sorry, Hillie. This is terrible news.’
‘Sergeant Hoskins, why have you let this man—?’
‘Yes, who the devil is this… this darkie?’ Charles Braithwaite demanded. ‘Get him out—’
‘As it happens, I do know this gentleman,’ the sergeant began to explain.
‘That is right.’ Patrick drew himself up to his considerable height. ‘My name is Patrick Akpobio. Back in Nigeria, I am a tribal prince. Here, I am a dentist and your sergeant is one of my patients. I qualified here in London and I have a thriving practice in Chelsea. And I know these people. They are my good friends, and I have come here to support them.’
With his lilting accent and calm voice, Patrick appeared to have mesmerised everyone, including Inspector Chamings whose eyebrows seemed stuck to his hairline. Charles Braithwaite’s face, though, was set like thunder.
‘Well, you’ve got no place here—’
‘Yes, he has.’ Hillie suddenly emerged from the mist of shock that had closed down her brain. ‘He’s a friend, and I want him here.’
Somewhere at the back of her mind fluttered the injustice of Mr Braithwaite’s words. Jessica’s face was white, and Hillie prayed she’d said the right thing. How she’d thought that, she had no idea. Not when… when Jimmy… Jimmy was dead. He was, wasn’t he? Or had she dreamt the whole thing? Had it really happened? That dreadful nightmare in the shadows? But why else were they all here in a police station? Or was she dreaming that, too? ‘Well, I shall take my daughter home, now,’ Charles Braithwaite announced.
‘Of course, sir. But we’d be obliged if you’d come back in the morning.’
‘Indeed. They’ll be a lot to sort out at the store, as well.’
‘Naturally. My men are there now, taking fingerprints and so forth. Not that there’s any doubt. The wretches were caught red-handed and, as I said, I’m hopeful we can match evidence to link them to other robberies. And some of the other goings-on we believe Jackson ran, as well. Right then, sir,’ the inspector continued, addressing Rob, ‘are you OK to drive people home when the doctor’s had a word with Mrs Baxter, or shall I get a police car?’
Twenty minutes later, Gert and Kit were helping Hillie to totter across the pavement from Rob’s car to the Parkers’ house. It all felt so unreal to her, as if she was inside a glass ball that was totally unconnected from all that was going on about her. The look of horror that came over Stan and Eva’s faces. Their words muffled and disjointed. Gert gently bathing her hands and legs while Kit explained in a low, seemingly incomprehensible whisper what had happened. Gert and Eva helping her as she stumbled upstairs. Helped out of her soiled clothes into Gert’s spare nightdress. Taking the sleeping draught the police surgeon had prescribed. Getting into Gert’s bed. She’d slept there once before, hadn’t she? But this was far, far worse. The relentless juddering until Gert squeezed in beside her. Held her tightly. And slowly, Gert and Jessica and Jimmy and Kit and the huge angry man and Charles Braithwaite and Patrick merged and danced, the colours gleaming and fading and swirling, until finally the drug claimed her into a deadened sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Somehow, time had passed, though it was all somewhat of a blur to Hillie. It was now the end of March, and she was just beginning to piece her life back together. ‘Oh, Eva, I really hate to ask you,’ she began awkwardly, sitting in Eva’s kitchen and stirring the tea the good woman had set before her. ‘But it’s the only thing I could think of. The thing is… Could you possibly keep a lookout on the girls for me when they come home from school? Make sure Joan doesn’t need any help or anything? It’s just that I want to stay on at the flat if I can, rather than moving to some grotty bedsit. And the only way I can afford it is if I go back to work.’
‘Course I can, ducks.’ Eva’s double chin wobbled up and down. ‘Your girls are welcome to call in or ask me to help any time. And anyway, since me mum died, things are a lot easier for us, even if I do miss the old dear. Oh, Lordy Love.’ She clapped her hand over her mouth. ‘I shouldn’t have said—’
‘It’s all right, Eva.’ Hillie gave a wistful smile. ‘You’re just as entitled to miss Old Sal as I am to miss my mum. And… and Jimmy. I do miss him, no matter what he got himself mixed up in.’
She felt the familiar scratch in her throat and was grateful when Eva nodded, her lips drawn in knowingly. ‘So who’s gonna do all the housework and cooking and everything? And all the washing with all them lot?’
‘Joan and I’ll just have to muddle through between us. I hate having to put so much on her shoulders, but I don’t know what else to do. And the others are that much older now and can do a bit to help. I’ll go in for a few hours every evening after work, and then over the weekends, so we should get everything done. Harold might not be too happy, but he’ll just have to lump it.’
‘Well, all I can say is that your mum’d be proud of you and what you’ve done for those kids. But you’ll be worn to a frazzle, girl.’ Eva frowned with concern. ‘Working every hour God sends. You’ll have no time to yourself at all. Well, at least let me do a bit of ironing or something for you. Nell was me best mate, and it’d be a sorry thing if I couldn’t help her family out now she’s gone.’
‘You never know, I might take you up on that. And… thank you.’
‘Well, we can’t let that Harold find another Maguire woman to look after the girls, can we, the old cow?’
‘Absolutely not!’ Hillie felt the bile rising inside her. ‘I just can’t believe what she did to get back at me for throwing her out. Telling a total stranger all about me and my family when Jackson came to snoop on me so that he could get some sort of hold over Jimmy. And then for her to join Jackson’s mob.’
‘Just the sort of scum she is,’ Eva scoffed.
‘Yes. And then when I bumped into her at the police station when I went in to make my statement and she was being moved to prison, she spat at me and said she was the one who told Harold about me and Jimmy, well… I think she wanted to goad me into going for her, and get me into trouble, as well.’
‘Well, at least she’ll be banged up now until her trial. Didn’t they say she’s likely to get some years? Even if she did testify that Jackson ordered his heavy to, well, you know, that’ll probably help send him to the gallows?’
‘Yes. Might’ve been her first provable offence with the gang, but it was an armed robbery. At least I’ll have nothing to do with the trials on that side of things. But I’m absolutely dreading Jackson’s trial. It was just so horrible with the robbery itself being in the papers, and the way it was foiled. But having to face him in court and… and Jimmy’s murderer. I just can’t bear…’
The agony scorched in her throat again, and she joined her hands over her mouth to swallow it down. At once, Eva came to put her arms round her for the ump
teenth time since Jimmy’s death.
‘Now don’t you upset yourself, Hillie, love,’ she crooned, rubbing Hillie’s arm. ‘We’ll all help you through it. And there’s that nice new family what’s moved into Dolly’s house, so she’ll never be coming back here to bother us again. But…’ Eva hesitated, tipping her head enquiringly to one side as she pulled back to look into Hillie’s eyes. ‘You sure you wanna be on your own? You’d be welcome to come and live here. With me mum gone, we could easily fit you in.’
Hillie could feel tears beginning to swim in her eyes. ‘Oh, Eva, you really are the kindest person who ever walked this earth. And I love you and all the family to bits. But… I feel I need to have my own place. Somewhere that’s properly mine. And it was Jimmy’s and my home. He was… so proud and excited when he got it for us.’ She paused, chin quivering as she remembered Jimmy’s face when he’d first taken her to the flat. ‘I feel near to him there. I know he was far from perfect, but I did love him. And I don’t feel ready to move on with my life just yet.’
Eva gave a short nod as she sat back down. ‘Yeah, I understand, love. But you know where we are if you change your mind.’
‘Yes, I do. And thank you. But you might regret the offer if I take you up on it,’ Hillie joked, forcing some levity into her voice.
‘Nah, never,’ Eva smiled back. ‘So, when you gonna start job hunting?’
‘Oh, no need. Got my old job back at the factory. Ethel’s had to give up ’cos of her knees, but she was coming up to retirement anyway. But with Price’s pension scheme, she’ll be OK, and her husband—’
‘You’re never going back to Price’s?’ Eva cried, aghast. ‘Clever kid like you? Ain’t they got no jobs in the office, at least?’
‘Not at the moment. And to be honest, a bit of familiarity is what I need. For the time being, at least. And I’ll be with Gert all day again.’
‘But she won’t be working there forever, you know,’ Eva frowned, pausing as Primrose came over and climbed up onto her lap. ‘I know they’ve kept their engagement low-key. Rob had planned on proposing at the New Year’s party, but because of what happened... Well, you know they’re planning on getting married summer after this, and moving out to Surrey. Building some nice new suburbs, they are. Three-bed semi-detached with black and white fronts like what they had in the old days. And not only blooming long back gardens, but front ones as well. Place called Stoneleigh, Rob’s got his eye on, ’cos it’s got a station on a line straight up to London for his work.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Hillie smiled wistfully. ‘I’m sure Gert’d like to talk about it all the time. But bless her, she doesn’t. She thinks it might upset me, talking about her future married life, when I’ve just… But it won’t. Just the opposite. It’s lovely to see her so happy. She’s even trying to talk posher. Have you noticed?’
‘Yeah, but I’m not sure she’ll master it. Gert’ll always be Gert.’
‘Yes, I know!’ Hillie grinned now. ‘And I’m so looking forward to working with her again.’
‘When d’you start?’ Eva asked, shoving a Rich Tea biscuit into Primrose’s grubby hands to stop her whining.
‘In a week. When Ethel leaves, I’ll start straight after. Gives me time to sort some things out. Jimmy and I had some reasonable savings. But I don’t want to spend too much of them. I want to keep them for something in the future. I’m not quite sure what yet, but I’m not going to spend the rest of my life packing candles. It just suits me for now.’
‘Good girl. I’m pleased to hear it,’ Eva beamed. ‘Now, is there anything else I can do for you?’
‘No, thanks. Although… come to think of it,’ Hillie faltered as the lump swelled in her gullet again at Eva’s kindness, ‘a hug’d be nice.’
Eva at once dumped Primrose back on the rug and came round to Hillie’s side of the table again. Hillie felt the warm softness of Eva’s voluminous bosom against her own pert young breasts as the older woman’s arms enclosed her slender frame. In Eva’s compassionate embrace, it was easy to believe that everything would turn out all right in the end.
But Hillie had a feeling in her gut that she had a long way to go before she could find any lasting peace.
*
‘Right, you lot,’ Hillie addressed her three youngest sisters after she’d cooked a Saturday lunch of mashed potato with cheese melted into it. She’d been working at the factory bench all morning, of course, and Luke – to Harold’s derision – had insisted on washing up, even though he’d been at his work in the night-light wicking room as well.
‘My sissy son doing girl’s work,’ Harold had sneered, making Hillie suck the breath through her teeth to stop herself from retaliating. But as she’d been working all morning, she didn’t see why her little sisters couldn’t pull their weight as well.
‘I want you three to help Joan tidy up the bedroom while Luke and I heat up the water for the washing. And Trixie, it’s your week to have clean sheets, so if you can strip your bed, I’ll help you remake it later. Go on, up you go!’ she shooed, playfully clapping her hands behind the last of her siblings. ‘And, Luke, could you get the clothes horse out, please? It’s bucketing down outside, so I’ll have to dry everything inside, and there won’t be room for it all on the ceiling rack.’
‘Shouldn’t be doing washing on a Saturday,’ Harold grumbled. ‘Monday’s washday.’
‘And I happen to be at work on Mondays in case you hadn’t noticed,’ Hillie retorted. ‘You just don’t like it ’cos it disturbs your afternoon. And it reminds you of all the hard work Mum did that you never appreciated.’
‘How dare—’
‘And if you want clean sheets this week, you’ll have to go and change them yourself. I haven’t got time.’
‘That’s not my fault, now, is it? You’re the one what decided to go back to work.’
‘I wouldn’t have to if you paid me a proper housekeeper’s wage.’
‘You know bloody well I can’t afford to.’
‘You could pay me a bit more if you didn’t go to the pub so often.’
‘Just drowning me sorrows over your mother,’ Harold attempted to whimper.
‘Don’t give me that. You’re just sorry you have to pay someone to do all the work for you Mum did for free all those years.’
Hillie stood, hands on hips, glowering at Harold while she waited for the water in the kettle and the three largest saucepans to boil on the gas stove. It had been her choice, of course, to go back to work and yet still squeeze in everything she had to do for her family. But the main problem was that it meant she saw a lot more of Harold, which she could well do without!
He was glaring back at her now, ready for the challenge. ‘Well, if you can’t fit everything in and I have to do half your work for you, I’ll have to halve your wages.’
‘What! Changing your sheets is only a fraction of what I do!’
‘Then I’ll reduce your wages by a fraction,’ Harold smiled with triumphant satisfaction. ‘And the girls are all helping you, not forgetting your dear nancy brother. So from now on, I’ll be paying you eight bob instead of ten.’
‘Oh, no, you won’t—’
‘And if you argue with me, I’ll make it seven and six.’
Hillie’s eyes blazed with anger. Harold knew he had her over a barrel, didn’t he? He hadn’t shown her an ounce of compassion over Jimmy’s death, and seemed to treat her even worse than before. How she’d have loved to storm out and leave him in the lurch. But she needed every penny to keep on the flat, and Luke and the girls would suffer. And at least this way, she saw plenty of them. Whereas if she left, Harold might try to sever her contact with them again. So, though it galled her beyond imagining, she’d have to put up with it.
She turned back to the stove, struggling to hold her frustration in check. Lifting off the heaviest saucepan and pouring the boiling water into the washtub, she refilled it and returned it to the gas. She was doing the same with the middle-sized pan when she sensed Harold stand
ing behind her. When she spun round to face him, pan still in her hands, he was leering cajolingly at her.
‘Well, are you going to change your sheets, or what?’ she demanded.
‘In a minute, yeah, all right. But I just wanted to say there’s a perfectly good answer to all this.’
‘Oh, yes, and what might that be?’ Hillie snapped.
‘If you come back to live here, of course. Then you wouldn’t need to find no rent, and you wouldn’t need to go out to work. You could even have the parlour as a bedroom all to yourself. You could make it all pretty, however you wanted it. So,’ he said, looking at her expectantly, ‘what d’you say?’