‘She didn’t tell me that.’
‘Who is she with Michael? You know her old haunts, the men she used to see. I need to speak to her.’
Michael raised himself from his chair and went to the window.
‘When will this weather sort itself out? Look at this cess pit of a city. It makes you wonder what we fought for.’
‘But you didn’t fight, did you?’ Harry said, sharply. ‘You got yourself a cushy little number in Supplies.’
‘Yes, we weren’t all war heroes like you,’ replied Michael as curtly.
‘Michael, help me.’
Michael moved away from the window. ‘All I can tell you is that she used to hang around with a rather grubby sort. She was only ever really steady with one other fellow before you and his name was Charlie, I believe. I met him a couple of times. Nothing that special. Just an east end fellow with a lot to prove. She was quite serious about him for a while but then she ended it rather abruptly. Not just with him. With all her old pals. She cut them off and started working in a new pub. She’d been working at the club a little while then which is where we met. A few months later and you were on the scene. That’s all I can tell you.’
‘What was the name of the old pub?’
‘I don’t remember. The Angel, perhaps.’
‘And do you know where this Charlie lives?’
‘No idea,’ Michael answered with a shrug.
Harry nodded and lifted himself from his seat. He looked again at the room and as he did he felt the stirrings of what he’d felt the other night. It was too hazy for him to pin down but there was a faint memory of what had happened between them and there was the sensation of being satisfied.
‘I am going now,’ Harry said.
‘Yes.’
Michael offered a hand and Harry took it awkwardly. He knew that their friendship was at an end. He looked around at the armchairs which sat blankly looking back at him and then he turned to Michael’s carriage clock and could hear that it was ticking as serenely as ever it had. He felt Michael loosen his grip.
‘I hope you and Joe will be all right.’
‘We’ll be all right. We always are.’
‘You are fortunate to have such certainty. I wish Phyllis had the same conviction in me.’
Harry went out into the festering yellowy grey of the London streets. The air was cold and sticky but Harry felt something in him unwinding. It was not a clean feeling, but there was somehow more space in his body. He thought of Freddie and then of all the other intimate connections he had made and this brief summation of his past seemed an affirmation that he had been desired and cared for and yet there was a terrifying proof of the imperfections of each relationship and of his own failure and with that knowledge came a fractious insecurity. He knew in his heart that Phyllis was the one who had betrayed him and that he had been foolish to think he could use Michael to make her jealous. All he had done was give her ammunition and fuelled her belief that his attraction to either sex was an expression of an unwillingness to commit. He began to wonder what this Charlie fellow was like and could not help but think he was a simple uncomplicated person. There was no point in competing with that, he thought.
Harry reached the hotel and was about to head up to the room when the manager came down the stairs and stopped him.
‘I’ve been looking for your sister. The police phoned,’ the manager said.
‘What is it?’ Harry said, feeling an immediate sense of unease at the mention of police.
‘Apparently her husband has arrived. He’s at your house. They wouldn’t give him this address. They need one of you to go and verify it’s him,’ the manager continued with a tone of curiosity, hoping that the message would be explained.
‘Right. Thank you,’ Harry said. ‘When my sister returns can you tell her we’ll meet her back here?’
Harry left the hotel and made his way back to Chalk Farm. He had a mind to leave Frank where he was and see if he could find the pub Michael had mentioned, but he didn’t want to upset the police, and he knew that Frank would be creating a fuss. When he arrived back at the house, the lights were on in the living room. A board had been fixed over the broken window. Before the war it would have drawn a lot of attention but after all the bombings, thousands of houses had been far more badly damaged and there were still many streets which were waiting new housing to replace the piles of rubble. He put the key into the lock and opened it. A young policeman came out into the hallway almost immediately.
‘Hello, I’m Harry Clarke. I live here,’ Harry said, raising one hand as though he were being challenged.
The policeman looked him up and down and saw the key in his hand.
‘Mr Clarke, we have a gentleman here claims to be your brother-in-law.’
‘Harry, is that you?’ a voice called from the living room.
It didn’t surprise Harry that Frank made no effort to come and greet him.
‘Yes, it’s me.’
He passed by the policeman and entered the living room. Frank was on his knees picking up pieces of the shattered glass from the window and putting them into a dustpan.
‘Frank, there’s no need to do that,’ Harry said, surprised because he’d never seen Frank lift a finger to do any kind of house work.
‘I need to talk to Jean,’ Frank said, carefully picking up a couple of tiny fragments of glass between his fingers as if they might be diamonds.
‘Right.’
‘I suspect she’s been telling you all kinds of things.’
‘Actually she’s said nothing.’
‘I’m worried about her. She’s taken off and now I hear that Phyllis has done the same thing. She didn’t put Jean up to this, did she?’
Frank used a nearby armchair to pull himself up.
‘Phyllis was missing when I phoned Jean. Did Jean not explain what had happened?’
‘Jean left me a one line note and took off without saying a word about where she was going. She’s been very upset with the loss of the baby and I just want to her to be all right. The police said you’ve been staying at a hotel?’
‘Yes, down in the city.’
‘And Jean is there?’
‘Not at the moment. She’s out looking for Phyllis,’ Harry said.
‘You’ve let her go off by herself? After someone has attacked your home? What the hell do you think you’re playing at Harry?’
This was more like the Frank Harry knew.
‘I couldn’t stop her. She’ll be back soon, I’m sure.’
Frank gave him a look of disdain and shook his head and Harry could tell that Frank thought he was weak, but Harry didn’t care. He was beginning to see that Jean had perhaps made a wise decision by leaving her husband to fester on his own in Norwich. The thought made him wonder if he could really reduce himself to live a monastic life in some provincial part of the country.
‘I’ll take you down to the hotel if you like, but I’m not sure she’ll be that pleased to see you,’ Harry said.
‘So she has been saying things.’
‘No. But it’s obvious she doesn’t want to be near you right now.’
Frank glanced over Harry’s shoulder and Harry too looked behind him. The policeman was standing sheepishly in the hallway.
‘Do you mind stepping outside?’ Frank asked the policeman in a commanding voice.
The policeman gave Frank a look of bewilderment because it was still freezing outside but Frank glared at him. The young man went to the door and placed himself near the front gate.
‘Now I don’t know what’s going on between you and Phyllis but the last thing I need is Jean dragged into dealing with your problems. If you hadn’t realized, she lost her baby only a few weeks ago and it has hurt us terribly. She needs time to recover and she needs to do that at home.’
‘It sounds to me that she wants exactly the opposite. I can’t imagine that it can be any worse being here than sitting at home with nothing to do all day and thi
nk about it.’
‘Now look here,’ Frank said, moving forward.
‘No. You listen to me for once. I will take you to see her but if she wants you to go, I expect you to go.’
The two men stood opposite each other and Harry knew that he had succeeded in throwing his brother-in-law off balance. Harry too felt a little unsteadied by the strength in his voice, so that he was acutely aware of his body and the muscles in his shoulders and the sides of his rib cage that had tightened with anger. He could feel that his right hand was clenched and he worked quickly to release it.
‘I miss her Harry,’ Frank said.
Harry had a momentary vision of thousands of husbands walking around the city without their wives and it made him feel as if he should make one more attempt to resolve it with Phyllis.
‘Give me a minute to speak to the policeman and then we’ll go,’ Harry said, turning from Frank before Frank could make any kind of answer.
Harry went to inform the policeman but before he could open the door a knock came from the other side. He opened it and to his surprise, standing on the doorstep with the policeman at her shoulder was Phyllis.
‘Hello Harry. What’s all this fuss about?’
TEN
Harry and Phyllis took temporary refuge in the bedroom while the policeman went to make a telephone call to Detective Hayward from a call box down the street. Harry stood with his back against the door, watching his wife as she removed a small leather bag from the wardrobe and began to fold the last of her clothes into it. She barely looked at him and when she did she gave him a dangerously pleasant smile, which looked to Harry like her out-about-town face, the one full of confidence and lies. He could feel himself growing irritated with her casual manner but he reminded himself that there was their baby to discuss.
‘Well, are you going to stop this silliness and talk to me reasonably?’
‘Make them go away Harry,’ Phyllis said, lighting a cigarette and sticking it firmly in the corner of her mouth.
‘The police will want to talk to you too,’ Harry said.
‘I’ve stayed away plenty of times and you’ve never made a fuss before.’
‘You disappeared during a show and then you didn’t bother to call. On top of that I’m half attacked by two men who are looking for you. Not to mention there are two dead women and the police think you’re wrapped up in it. I think that gives me good enough reason to fuss.’
Phyllis was silent.
‘What have you got yourself messed up in?’ he asked.
‘You’ve never really taken an interest before.’
‘That’s not true. I assumed you were out with friends but clearly that’s not the case. Now who were those men?’
‘That’s why I came back,’ she said. ‘You need to stop poking your nose into things. It would be best if we both left London for a while.’
‘That’s not answering the question.’
‘They are not nice men. They are only interested in things that happened long ago and things that don’t matter to me anymore.’
‘Listen to me Phyllis. This charade of ours has got to stop. We both know it hasn’t been working for a long time. If you tell me what’s going on, and I mean really what’s going on, then I promise I will help you, but no more pretending you’re off at a friend’s house. I’m not stupid. I presume this Charlie fellow has something to do with it. I presume that’s what this entire thing has been about.’
Phyllis glared at him and he could tell that the mention of Charlie had thrown her completely.
‘Michael told me,’ Harry said, calmly. ‘I had a hunch it was an old flame. I suppose it has been going on for some time?’
‘You keep your own fair share of secrets, Harry.’
‘Nothing that will compare with the multitude of yours.’
Phyllis shook her head.
‘I know you kept his letters.’
‘What?’
‘For a long time I thought you were meeting with him.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Letters from Freddie. You kept them hidden behind the bureau drawer.’
‘So you did take them.’
‘That’s why I’ve never believed you. If you don’t still feel things for him, why do you keep them?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Because you’re still in love with him.’
‘Not this again.’
Harry shifted into the room.
‘You told me there were no more letters.’
‘Yes, I kept the letters but not because I’ve been having an affair with him. If you read them carefully, you would be able to see that I have not replied to them. I should have thrown them away long ago.’
‘I imagine you with him and it makes me ill. Can’t you see that? I look at myself and I think what is it about me that isn’t enough.’
‘I’m not going to keep going round and round like this. I thought you had a better imagination than that. To be honest, I’m tired of trying to convince you. I’ll do what I like from now on. But if you think I’m going to let you run off with my child and someone else, you’re sadly mistaken.’
Phyllis laughed at him and shut the bag.
‘Out of my way,’ she said.
‘I’m not moving until we’ve sorted this out.’
‘Dear me, have you decided to be a man for once?’
‘You’re going to do what I tell you.’
‘No, Harry. You see, I gave those letters to Jean. I made it very clear to her what sort of man you are.’
‘You saw Jean? Where is she?’
‘She was the one who found me. The stupid woman was wearing my clothes. Your family are all the same, like vampires.’
‘You gave those letters to Jean.’
He felt dizzy and collapsed back on the bed. By now Jean would have read enough of them to know what they were, and it sounded as though Phyllis had framed them in the worst possible light. It pained him when he considered how badly his marriage had turned out. He realized now that just because Phyllis associated with men like Michael and Joe it did not mean she was capable of understanding anymore than the next person.
‘Well that’s done it,’ he said, under his breath.
Phyllis watched her husband intently, waiting for retaliation but none came. He sat there scratching his face, drawing his fingers up and down the line of his jaw in an attempt to induce some kind of feeling in his body and then he looked up at Phyllis.
‘Where is she then? If she found you, why isn’t she here?’
Phyllis bit her lip and looked away from him.
‘Phyllis, what’s happened?’
‘Those men who attacked you. They came back. I managed to hide, but Jean and Charlie were with them.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Jean found me through Charlie and Charlie has been working for those men who roughed you up.’
‘And why are these men after you?’
‘Charlie and the rest of them work for a man I was once involved with. It’s an organised outfit. They’re responsible for a lot of robberies, and they think I’m going to tell on them. They thought those other girls were too.’
‘And his name is?’
‘Newman.’
‘Christ. And they have my sister? We have to go to the police straight away.’
‘No, Harry. Please let me finish. I am sure she’ll be all right. I think I know where she is but we can’t involve the police. Just you and me.’
‘Can you hear what you’re saying? My sister has been terribly ill. That’s her husband, Frank, downstairs. He’s come to take her home. What am I supposed to say to him? “I’m sorry but she’s been kidnapped by a bunch of lowlifes.”’
‘She’s not alone. She has Charlie with her and he’ll look after her. I know he will.’ Her voice faltered and her gaze shifted to the painting above the bed.
‘I see you’ve put that picture back u
p.’
Harry could tell that she was trying to work her up her anger but he felt he had control of her now and he was not going to let her get the better of him.
‘You tell me everything about these people now or I’ll speak to the policeman as soon as he returns,’ he said.
Phyllis sat down next to him on the bed, and crossed her legs and took out another cigarette. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and she looked stunned at his assertiveness. Harry’s eyes caught the shape of her thighs and her stockings.
‘Charlie works for Newman. He was going to do one more job for him and then Charlie and I were going away. I love him Harry.’
‘You’ve fallen for a crook?’ Harry said, blankly.
‘He knows what he wants. He loves me and he doesn’t make me feel dirty.’
‘Then why the hell are you here? Why didn’t you just leave with him already?’
‘Because of your sister. She wants me to sort things out with you. And I would like to be able to go away with your blessing.’
‘Ha,’ Harry spluttered and turned away from her. ‘You haven’t finished explaining things yet.’
She began to speak, but the words did not come easily at first.
‘I met Charlie while I was seeing Newman. Newman had got me a job in a pub he owned. Charlie used to come in every night and he’d talk to me. He used to keep an eye on me because Newman was always off somewhere. We got to know each other. I don’t know how else to say it but we were in love before we kind of knew it ourselves, but if Newman found out about it, he’d have killed Charlie on the spot. So I ended it and left my job. Newman got bored of me soon enough but he’d never have stood for me and Charlie. I moved out of where I was living and Charlie didn’t bother to look me up, so I guessed he was over it. Not long after, I met you. Then about three months ago, Elma, an old friend of mine and Charlie’s came into the pub and she must have told Charlie about me because he came in the next day. He told me that Newman was on the war path and looking for all his old flings. A couple of his ex-lovers were blackmailing him and he was after all of us. Anyway, I knew how I felt about Charlie the moment I saw him again.’
‘Really?’
The Smog (A Jean Clarke Mystery Book 1) Page 17