The Ever Open Door

by Glenice Crossland

  Betty and Ernest’s wedding arrangements were progressing well. The wedding would take place the Saturday before Easter. It was supposed to be a quiet wedding but had developed into a large affair, what with the friends and relatives of both bride and groom and neighbours from both sides. Ernest said an Easter wedding would give them ample time to get the house ready. He had been disappointed that Betty had at first chosen to wear a nice costume and had managed to persuade her to wear a proper wedding dress instead. She had bought herself a large white picture hat, and the dress was being designed by Mary Holmes – on Daisy’s recommendation.

  None of her nieces was bothered about being a bridesmaid, preferring to wear something suitable for later, so Betty had written to Florence, who was to be her chief bridesmaid, along with Doreen’s daughter, Alice. Bernard had offered to take the photographs and Betty had made her own wedding cake, icing it beautifully in white and gold, to match the roses in her bouquet.

  It was her ambition to start her own catering service, and Ernest had promised to set her up with the necessary equipment, once they were settled in their new home.

  ‘I’m glad you’re not wearing a veil this time, giving Kitty Ramsgate summat to gossip about,’ Amy said.

  ‘Oh, no, she won’t be talking about me this time.’ Betty managed to keep her face straight. ‘She’ll be too busy gossiping about you.’

  ‘Me! What’s she got to gossip about that involves me?’

  ‘You and Danny. All those romantic nights in, listening to music in the firelight.’ Betty had heard no gossip whatsoever about her mother but she knew it would give her something to think about. Betty also knew Amy would miss them when she and Ernie moved out, especially her grandson. Nowadays, though, her mother was spending most evenings over at Danny’s, or inviting him over here where she would cook something tasty for his tea. Betty thought it was daft, living in two houses when they obviously wanted to be in one. She had already suggested to her mother that she and Danny would be better off married. She tried again.

  ‘Why don’t you and Danny get married, Mam?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Amy protested. ‘People my age don’t get married.’

  ‘ ’Course they do.’

  ‘Well, I should feel disloyal to yer dad.’

  ‘Oh! So you think I’m being disloyal to Clarence, do you?’

  ‘No, you’re different, you’re only young.’

  ‘Yes, and you look years younger since you became friends with Danny.’

  ‘Aye, well, he’s a nice man. He makes me laugh.’

  ‘So what more do you want? Is he not sexy enough for you, is that it?’

  Amy’s face turned the colour of beetroot. ‘You want to wash yer mouth out, young lady.’

  ‘Sorry. Anyway, it’ll make Kitty Ramsgate happy. There hasn’t been anything to gossip about round here since her brassiere blew away and ended up hanging off the flag pole at the Town Hall. Besides, think of all the scrubbing it’ll save you.’

  ‘What do yer mean?’

  ‘Well, if you took on Danny, his washer would come with him.’

  ‘Aye, well, if I did marry Danny it wouldn’t be for his washer or owt else he possessed.’

  ‘No, I know that. You’d be marrying him because you care for him and he cares for you. And high time you both admitted it! Oh, I just thought of something …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I hope you won’t even consider wearing a veil?’

  Even Amy couldn’t help laughing at that.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said at last. ‘I’d certainly look a lot better wi’ ’alf me face covered up!’

  Daisy jumped off the bus and ran straight into the phone box. She dialled Sam’s number and waited. When he answered she said, ‘Hi, Sam. You know I’m covering my aunty’s wedding tomorrow afternoon, but if you want me in the morning I’m available.’

  ‘Would you like to cover the meeting to discuss local plans for the celebration of the Festival of Britain?’

  ‘Sure, where?’

  ‘The Town Hall, eleven o’clock. Shouldn’t take long unless Councillor Grey turns up. He could be rambling on till midnight.’

  ‘I hope not, I’ve a wedding to get ready for.’

  ‘Thanks, Daisy. I’ve a busy schedule tomorrow.’

  ‘It’s a pleasure.’ Thinking about the little cheque that would be waiting for her on Monday at the office, she put down the phone, pushed open the door – and a hand came out and grabbed her wrist. It was Carol’s father!

  The hairs on her neck bristled with fear but there was no time to be scared. Daisy swung her school bag hard and landed the side with the metal fastening straight in his face. He relaxed his hold for a second, and she wrenched herself away from him and ran straight up the Donkey Path.

  She soon realised she should have kept to the main road and gone to seek help in one of the shops, but it was too late now. She heard him pounding along behind her but he was obviously less fit than a young girl, and she heard him turn back and away from her.

  Daisy was still shaking and slowed down as she reached the steepest part of the hill, to regain her breath. She wondered what her dad would do now. He’d go to the police … Perhaps she shouldn’t say anything. It was growing dusk and she wished she hadn’t volunteered to give her teacher a hand with marking books from the first form. In her nervous state, she was relieved to be approaching St George’s Road.

  Then she saw the car, waiting by the turnstile. She could just see the front of its bonnet but she knew it was his. There was no way she could leave the path without him seeing her, and if she turned and ran back the way she had come, he might be waiting for her again at the bottom.

  On impulse she ran to her left, through the wall and into the doctor’s garden. She knew how well-hidden their old hideaway had been; no one had ever found them there. She made straight for it now, praying he hadn’t seen her run in this direction. If he followed her here, nobody would ever know. He could murder her and no one would find her for weeks. She crouched among the blue-painted holly bushes, ashamed of the mess she and Carol had made of the place when they had been little girls.

  Suddenly a car door slammed. Oh, God, he had got out of the car! She could imagine him climbing over the wall, coming towards her … Then she heard the door close again and waited for him to drive off. She thought he was starting the car, but then she heard another door slam. She was confused now. Perhaps it had been Mr Baraclough’s van door she had heard the first time. She dare not move, not even a muscle. Daisy realised she was shivering, but whether it was from fear or because she was freezing cold she wasn’t sure.

  It was pitch dark and still she waited. She wondered why no one had come to look for her. If they had, they’d have seen Carol’s dad and he would have driven away. Perhaps he’d already gone? But she couldn’t risk it. Not when she knew what he wanted. The thought of him touching her made her skin crawl. She would stay here all night rather than be raped.

  Sally was pacing the living-room, going to the window and back again. She went to Enid’s in case Daisy had gone there, then to Amy’s and Mrs Firth’s. If only Jim was at home! Why did he always have to be on afternoon shift when he was most needed? By the time she knocked on Mary’s door, she was in tears.

  ‘Sally, what’s wrong? Come on, sit down and tell me.’

  ‘Our Daisy isn’t home yet. Oh, Mary, it’s like a nightmare, a repeat of last time.’

  ‘Now, come on, Sally. She might have gone somewhere for the paper. It is on Fridays that she rings what’s his name, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, but she’d have come home first.’

  ‘Sally, she’s growing up. She could be with a boy or anything.’

  ‘No, she’d have let me know. She understands what I went through last time, she wouldn’t put me through that again.’ Sally rose restlessly to her feet. ‘I’m going home … she might be back by now.’

  ‘I’ll come with you. Look, why don’t you ring that
reporter? Check that she made her regular call. At least you’ll know then that she came home from school.’

  ‘Yes, I will, if I can find his number … it might be in her bedroom.’

  ‘If you know his name, it’ll be in the phone book at Mr Baraclough’s.’

  ‘I don’t like to bother them when they’re closed for the night.’

  ‘But this could be an emergency.’

  ‘Oh, I hope to God it isn’t, Mary!’

  Daisy was having to shake herself to stay awake. She had no idea what time it was and her watch had stopped. She had thought she heard footsteps once, a cracking of twigs and creaking of branches, but she daren’t move, it might be him. Her eyes were closing. If she fell asleep she might never wake up again. Aunty Betty’s wedding would be spoiled and she would let Sam down by not covering the Town Hall meeting. She tried to make up a poem to keep herself awake. ‘In the wild wood, dark and deep …’ It was so boring, it was making her even more sleepy.

  Daisy was in the house in the bushes, pouring tea from the tiny teaset. The pandas were sitting round the table made from a cardboard box. Daisy poured tea for the baby panda and Carol cut the cake. It was Mother panda’s birthday and they were having a party. Then Carol’s father came through the bushes. He was wearing a party hat and told Carol to go away. He wanted Daisy this time. He came closer and Father panda rose up towards him, protecting her, just like the dogs had protected her at Aunty Charlotte’s. The panda lifted the man and tore him in two, separating his upper body from the rest. Blood splattered out and mixed with the bright blue paint, then the pandas went back into the tea set and Daisy was left with the corpse of the man. She knew she was dreaming, but if the man was dead here she would rather remain in her nightmare than wake up and find him alive.

  Jim didn’t call at the Sun, for which Sally gave thanks. She met him at the door and he knew something had happened straight away by the look on her face.

  ‘Our Daisy’s missing, Jim. She never came home from school.’

  ‘Is she at Carol’s?’

  ‘No, apparently Carol didn’t go to school, she wasn’t well this morning. I don’t know what to do. Jim. She rang Sam when she got off the bus.’

  ‘Well, we know she wouldn’t go off without saying so we’d better notify the police.’

  ‘Mr Baraclough said there was a strange car parked at the top of the Donkey Path about that time.’

  ‘Does he know what make or colour?’

  ‘No, he doesn’t. He said he saw it stop, and it seemed to be a while before it started up again.’

  Jim was just about to go for the police when Tom and Stanley walked in. ‘Is Daisy back yet?’ his mate asked.

  ‘No, I’m going to Baraclough’s to call the police.’

  ‘Oh, Jim, where the hell can she be?’

  ‘God knows, I’m sure I don’t. Well, at least we can’t blame the Kaye woman this time.’

  ‘Let’s go and look round before we involve the cops.’

  ‘Where? She can’t be down the path or we’d ’ave seen ’er on our way home.’

  ‘Aye, I’ve just come up that way from the darts match,’ Stanley said.

  ‘I’ll tell you what, I’ll go across and ask Una if she’s seen her, then I’ll go to Jean’s. You take a look down in the direction of the wood,’ Jim said.

  The men set off and Sally continued pacing from one room to the next. She remembered that she should have gone to the hairdresser’s in readiness for tomorrow’s wedding. If Daisy was still missing then she had visions of the marriage being postponed. She knew neither Ernest nor Betty would get married with this hanging over their heads. She noticed Dippy had made a pool behind the door again. The poor thing had no control over his bladder these days. She cleaned it up automatically as the dog waited to be put outside in half-hearted punishment, but it didn’t happen today so he settled himself comfortably on the pegged rug in front of the fire.

  Suddenly Tom remembered the den Daisy had once made in the bushes. It was a long shot, but it was all he could think of. ‘Come on,’ he said to his son. ‘It’s through the wall, somewhere near here.’

  ‘What would she be doing in Dr Sellars’ garden?’ Stanley wondered aloud.

  ‘Just summat I’ve remembered.’ Tom felt his way in the pitch darkness.

  ‘Ouch!’ Stanley had almost poked out an eye on a tree branch, but he didn’t care as long as Daisy was safe. She was the only girl he had ever cared about, though he doubted she even thought about him, let alone cared. Why should she? Someone as beautiful and clever as Daisy.

  Tom had found the place he was looking for. ‘Daisy!’ he called. There was no reply but he had a feeling in his gut that she was nearby. ‘Daisy, are yer there?’

  Stanley’s ears were younger and sharper than his father’s. ‘She’s here, I heard her.’ The noise had been faint, like the mewing of a cat. He went in its direction. ‘Daisy?’

  ‘Stanley.’ Daisy couldn’t move. Her whole body was numb. She began to cry, almost silently, as if she was too weak to do more. He lifted her effortlessly and she clung to him as if afraid he would go away and leave her again.

  ‘What were you doing here, love? Yer mam’s nearly frantic worrying about yer, and yer dad.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be sorry, Daisy, just tell us what happened?’ Stanley couldn’t bear seeing her so upset.

  ‘I can’t tell you, Stanley. I want my mam … I’ll tell her.’

  ‘All right, let’s get you home.’ He carried her the whole way back and laid her gently on the settee in the front room.

  ‘Come on, Stanley. let’s go. I think Daisy’s got something to tell her mam,’ said Tom then. Stanley was reluctant to leave, but followed his father towards the door.

  ‘Stanley … thanks.’ The look in Daisy’s eyes told him that maybe, just maybe, she did care for him a little bit.

  ‘Oh, Dad, I’m sorry!’ Daisy had started crying again. ‘It was him … Carol’s dad.’

  ‘What!’ Jim’s fists clenched at the mere thought of the man.

  ‘He was waiting for me to get off the bus. Grabbed me when I came out of the phone kiosk. I ran away and thought I’d lost him, but then his car was there at the top of the path and I didn’t know what to do.’

  ‘Go and call the police, Sally! He’s a danger to young girls. He can’t get away with it this time …’

  ‘What do you think, Daisy?’

  ‘Dad’s right, the next person might not get away.’

  ‘I’m not going to Mr Baraclough’s, I’m going to Carol’s. It’s only fair to warn them what’s going to happen. We shall have to tell the police about the man’s history. Besides, they might know where he can be found.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right.’

  It was Carol who came down and let Sally in. ‘Has Daisy come home?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes. But I need to talk to your mum, Carol.’

  ‘She’s getting dressed. She’ll be down in a minute. We were both still awake, worrying about Daisy.’

  Sally explained to them both what had happened. ‘I’m really sorry but he needs reporting.’

  ‘I know, we should have done it before. Ring the police now,’ Carol’s mum told her.

  ‘Do you know where he’ll be?’

  ‘Yes, I have his address, but he’ll probably have run away after what’s happened.’

  Sally phoned the police, who promised to do what they could. She was eager now to return to her daughter.

  ‘Are you sure Daisy’s all right?’ Carol sounded worried.

  ‘Yes, apart from being freezing cold, she’s fine.’

  ‘Well, then, I’ll see you tomorrow, at the wedding.’

  ‘Oh, yes, the wedding. Goodnight then, and thanks.’ The wedding was the last thing on Sally’s mind.

  Bobby Jones was already there by the time she got back, eager to make amends for last time he’d failed to find Daisy. She told him her story and watched a look of revulsio
n flood the policeman’s face.

  ‘Don’t you worry, we’ll find him! He won’t bother any other youngsters for a while. If I had my way, the man’d be castrated. Unfortunately, it isn’t up to me.’

  He picked up his helmet and prepared to leave. ‘Right then. I’ll go and see what his poor wife and daughters have to say.’ He smiled at Daisy. ‘I hope I don’t see you again, love, not for a long time anyway. Except that you’ll probably have to give evidence in court. Do you mind that?’

  ‘No! Not if it gets rid of him for a while.’

  ‘Good girl.’

  Daisy thought the experience of going to court would be good for a writer. If might come in handy for her novel …

  ‘Come on,’ her mother said. ‘Let’s get some sleep or we’re going to look like death at that wedding. It’s going to be a lie in for you in the morning, my love.’

  ‘Oh, but I can’t. I’ve to report on a meeting at the Town Hall.’

  ‘Oh, Daisy, are you sure you’re up to it?’

  ‘Yes, I’m fine.’ As she went sleepily upstairs, she called to Sally, ‘Mum, will Mary and Tom be at the wedding?’

  ‘Yes, of course they will.’

  ‘And Stanley?’

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘No reason. I just wondered.’

  Chapter Twelve

  DAISY WAS UP and dressed in her blue costume, all ready for the Town Hall meeting, despite her ordeal the day before. She felt slightly apprehensive as she approached the Donkey Path but hurried on, intent upon putting the experience behind her.

  On entering the Town Hall, she was relieved to see no sign of Councillor Grey and knew the meeting would stay a short one.

  According to a spokesman, it seemed that tidying up the area in an attempt to make Millington more beautiful was the most important thing on the agenda for the Festival of Britain. There would also be an appeal to shop owners on the main road to plant out tubs of flowers and hanging baskets. Apparently the works management had offered to plant a line of trees, such as birches and willows, on the piece of land fronting the steelworks. The Victoria Club committee were also enthusiastic about tidying up and planting trees on the spare land adjoining their club. There was to be a revival of the arts and crafts exhibition which had been so successful before the war, and a concert in the Civic Hall. The Horse and Pony Society were to organise a gymkhana, and the Scouts a pageant.