Brighter Days Ahead

by Mary Wood

  ‘What, Ruby an’ all?’

  ‘Aye. The more witnesses to the gang’s activities there are together, the better. Besides, Delilah’s – Martha’s – case is known here. There will be records to corroborate her story, and evidence that can be matched to her. Even to timing, as you said Gus was in prison for a long time, and yet he was involved in her kidnap. The Scottish police won’t have any of this. I’d like to bet a case such as hers, that was of massive countrywide interest, was dealt with by Scotland Yard, so that’s where we must take her.’

  No one spoke for a moment. Flo frantically tried to form more of a plan to bring together all they had to do, and yet make sure everyone was kept safe. But how? Where? Bletchley? No. What if everything got out of hand? What if the gang found them and the actions they took compromised her work at Bletchley? Or, God forbid, put Bletchley on the map, jeopardizing the secrecy about what went on there?

  At the thought of this, and her involvement in something that had even the remotest possibility of connecting this sordid business to Bletchley, Flo’s fear intensified. Sweat broke out over her body. A trickle ran down her face and plopped in a cold bead on her neck. Art’s hand reached out to her. His gentle touch on her tightly clasped hands helped. She calmed her mind. None of that must happen. Panic-mode had given her all the scenarios, and now she must avoid any involvement with Bletchley at all costs. Nevertheless, she needed to do something.

  ‘Are you all right, Flo?’

  ‘Aye. I am, Art, ta.’ She took her hand away from Art’s and fumbled for her hanky. Wiping her face, Flo took a deep breath. ‘We have no other choice than to go to Scotland Yard.’

  The silence deepened for a moment. Molly broke it. ‘But you can’t just go up to Scotland Yard as you can to a police station, Flo. It’s not open to the public to wander in with all sorts of complaints. It’s an investigative operation within a building.’

  For a moment this floored Flo. She’d had no idea, and thought they could go in and present what they had to a desk sergeant and all would be well. But the fact that this wasn’t possible didn’t put her off. She needed to get help to bring the gang to justice and make everyone safe. Her mind took a moment to come up with a solution. ‘Whitehall 1212! That’s it: that’s the number we all know for Scotland Yard. You have to telephone that number, Molly, and say that you know where Martha Gardner is and that you have information about a gang operating in London. Tell them you are in danger and need protection. Tell them everything. We’ll all move to a hotel tonight – somewhere very public, so that even if the gang finds out where you are, which ain’t likely, they won’t want to act until you leave. But by that time you will have been in touch with Scotland Yard and, hopefully, everything will be sorted.’

  ‘The Savoy.’

  ‘Eeh, Art, naw. The likes of us can’t stay there!’

  ‘It’s where I’m staying, and I’ll pick up the bill. There’s a motley crew staying there – deposed royalty amongst them – but the hotel can always find rooms, because apart from Europe’s unwanted, not many people wish to stay in London, with the nightly air raids going on.’

  Molly didn’t discount this, but came out with the practicalities of how she would look there. ‘But I ain’t got any clothes, only me . . . well, you know, them as I came in.’

  Flo went into action. Her quick-thinking brain had her accepting Art’s wild suggestion as a solution. Yes, they would be safe in such a place, and would have access to telephones. ‘I have a frock in me bag as would fit you, Molly. And you can wear me nice coat, an’ all. I’ll stay in me uniform. What about you, Pauline?’

  Pauline hadn’t said much the whole time they had been locked in fear about what to do. Flo looked at her and felt the pity of everything this kindly lady had been drawn into, through no fault of her own. And, aye, I have to admit, through actions I took in offering help to Molly. But then Pauline would have done the same, if she’d been the one to meet Molly first. They were alike in nature, she and Pauline.

  ‘It’s a chance, Pauline. If we can get somewhere safe and get Scotland Yard involved, we can keep your kids and mam safe, an’ all.’

  ‘Right-o, Flo. It ain’t what I ever thought I’d do, staying at the bleedin’ Savoy, but needs must. I’ve slummed it before.’

  The burst of spontaneous laughter at this unexpected joke from Pauline lightened the tension in the room. ‘Good old Pauline, I knew you’d take it in your stride.’

  ‘I’m a Londoner, Flo. And yer know what? Us and you northerners are made of grit. We’ll cope, no matter what is thrown at us. I have to say I was knocked me off me axle to think of me kids in danger, but I think your plan is a good one and I’m ready to go through with it. I’ll put on me Sunday-best frock. It’s done me proud for weddings and funerals, and it’s good enough for the bleedin’ Savoy, an’ all.’

  ‘That’s the spirit, ladies. Everyone will think you’re all royalty in your posh frocks, and being driven up in my Rolls. Let’s show this gang that they don’t mess with Art Tendray of Ontario and his ladies.’

  Again they laughed. Flo wondered if Art would have made the joke if he’d known the implications of calling them ‘his ladies’, but knew he was too decent even to think in such a way and meant to imply just what he’d said: that they were ladies, in his eyes, and his friends.

  The offer by Art to foot the bill worried her, but she would make sure she gave him whatever she could; in the meantime, she had no alternative other than to accept his generosity. Outrageous and unbelievable as it was for her, Pauline and Molly ever to contemplate staying at the Savoy, it was the only solution to their problem that they had at this moment in time.

  Once they were all in the car, Flo found her own body trembling. She’d kept strong for Pauline and Molly, but the enormity of it all was now having an impact on her. She was involved in bringing one of the most notorious gangs in London to justice, and yet she held a position of trust and secrecy that had to be protected at all costs. Thinking about this, she knew she had to call a halt to her involvement.

  ‘Art, I can’t go to the Savoy. I – I have to . . .’ Flo felt her voice tightening as the atmosphere in the car tensed once more.

  ‘What’s wrong, Flo? Is it to do with your job?’

  ‘I – I can’t say. Art, I just—’

  ‘Leave it at that, then.’

  Flo felt relief at Art saying this. She glanced back at Molly and Pauline. Both looked lost, sunk in the deep leather back seat of the car. ‘By, me lasses, I feel as though I’m abandoning you, and it ain’t in me power to be able to explain, but I can’t do owt as might implicate me in something as big as this. And nor can you, Art, if the truth be known.’

  ‘What are we going to do then, Flo? It was such a good plan. I felt safe for the first time since I can remember.’

  ‘It still is a good plan, Molly. And it’s one you have to go through with. But as military personnel, me and Art can’t be involved. You have to be strong and go through with this on your own. Do exactly as we planned. We’ll book you into the Savoy, and you must ring Scotland Yard. Then stay put until plans are made to make you safe. Me and Art’ll foot the bill. I – I mean, I’ll pay you back every penny, Art, but if you can, you’ll have to stand the cost for a little while. I don’t reckon they’ll be there for many days.’

  ‘I can and I will, no worry about that. But, girls, Flo is right. If we stay with you, we’ll be involved, and neither of us can be.’

  ‘By, if things were different I wouldn’t leave your side, Molly. But I’ve no choice. Just tell the police whatever it is they need to hear. Then as soon as I see in the papers that the gang’s been arrested, I’ll be at your door like a shot, Pauline.’

  ‘And that’s where you’ll find Molly an’ all, Flo. I’ll take care of her. And don’t worry, we know you wouldn’t leave us if you had a choice. There’s a lot we don’t know about what you do, but whatever it is, I can see you have to protect it above all other considerations.’

>   ‘I do, Pauline. Molly, I—’

  ‘I understand, Flo. Please don’t worry. You’ve done more than anyone could expect of you. I’ll never be able to thank you. You’ve given me courage, too. I was trying to think of a way of keeping me dad out of this, but I realize I can’t. He has to take what’s coming to him. Once they’re all behind bars, I’ll have a home again. Me own home, where I was brought up.’

  This further relaxed Flo. She didn’t know how it would all pan out for Molly, but she knew she’d done all she could. She had to stop now and leave Molly to go forward on her own. Once Molly had done what she had to do, Pauline’s family would be safe, and Pauline could return to her home and carry on as normal. She was just the kindly lady who’d taken Molly in, and the police wouldn’t be interested in her. They’d know to keep her name out of everything, to ensure her safety for life. This thought was provoked by a worry Flo hadn’t voiced, but one that her keen mind had visited: the prospect of the younger members of the gang coming back from war one day and maybe seeking revenge. But that was all in the future. A future where none of them knew the outcome.

  Through the dim light of the car interior, Flo looked over at Art. It had felt nice when he’d held her hand. What she’d have done today without him by her side, she didn’t know. Simon would have liked him, too, she knew that.

  This thought, instead of sending her into the deep pit of her grief, sat well with her. She had to accept that she’d always live like that. Referring back to Simon. He’d never leave her. She needed time to heal, but she knew she could go forward with her life. Simon would want that for her.

  25

  Roland & Flo

  Coming to Terms

  Roland sat opposite Frazer. His mind took many turns as he listened to his friend and lawyer drone on about how they could lodge an appeal.

  ‘I don’t want to appeal, Frazer. I know I was upset when I pleaded guilty, but I can’t go through all that again.’

  ‘But look at you – and your face. I can’t protect you in here. I’ve tried, but the wardens just say that you fell over. You’re being mistreated, and I can’t bear it.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I have four months under my belt now and it’s getting easier. I’ve started to hold a class for those who can’t read and write, and some of them are warming to me. Besides, there’s talk of a few of the younger ones, who are the worst aggressors, being released to active service, so that will improve things for me, too.’

  ‘Roland, you can’t keep punishing yourself for Simon’s death – it wasn’t your fault. You said yourself how careful you were in public. What happened is more than likely down to that person you spoke about who worked for Simon.’

  Pain stabbed at Roland’s heart at the mention of Simon’s name. Frazer must have seen it, as he hung his head for a moment.

  ‘My dear friend, I can’t bear to see you like this. You know how I feel about you, and it breaks me in two to see you here and in this state.’

  ‘Don’t . . . I’m not ready. I don’t know if I ever will be. Nor will I ever feel safe again. I’d rather stay single and live a bachelor’s life. I can’t even think about another relationship.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I never meant to mention my feelings. I . . . Don’t shut me out because of them, Roland. They have been there since we were at school together, you know that. I have carried on all these years, and I can shut down and carry on forever, if I have to.’

  ‘Why don’t you find someone else, Frazer? Don’t wait for me. You may wait forever.’

  ‘If that’s what it takes. Anyway, a solicitor from down south has been in touch again. Your friend, Florence, is desperate to come and see you. Why don’t you let her?’

  ‘All right. When I’m next allowed a visitor, I will see her. I think I’m ready to deal with doing so now.’

  ‘Good. It will do you good to see someone other than me, and will let me off the hook. Seeing you, and not being able to be more to you, is tearing me in half.’

  ‘Oh, Frazer, I’m sorry. Who knows what will happen in the future?’

  ‘Is that you offering me the crumbs off your table?’

  ‘Maybe. I don’t know.’

  When Frazer had left, Roland went back to his cell. Life was complicated. Over these last months the only person from outside the prison that he’d see had been Frazer, and he did have some small feeling for him, but he had to be sure that feeling was worth nurturing. Maybe it was just a thread of the lifeline that Frazer offered to him and would snap the moment he tried to grasp it fully. He didn’t know.

  ‘Here, nancy boy, my shoes want cleaning. But no, you’re not fit to spit on them, so I won’t bother you after all.’ A hideous laughter echoed down the corridor. Something snapped in Roland; he’d had enough. Max Brown, the prison bully, had made the remark and had come out of his cell to bar his way.

  ‘Move out of my way.’

  ‘Huh, ponce – are you going to make me, then?’ The huge man stomped towards Roland, fists clenched, aggression and hate making his ugly face uglier.

  Roland stood his ground, wishing he’d taken more notice of the martial-arts classes offered at his school. But he had enjoyed boxing and had been rather good at it. He raised his fists. Max stopped in his tracks. His head went back, and his laughter echoed once more off the walls. Sweat rolled down Roland’s back. Heads appeared out of open cell doors. Roland attacked, catching Max off-guard and landing a heavy punch to his stomach. Max leaned forward, staring Roland out, his mouth twisted. The punch had hardly tickled him. Roland hated his own next move, but saw no other way. He lifted his foot and sunk it deep into Max’s groin. Max’s huge body curled and fell onto the floor. Squeals that a woman would be proud of emitted from his slobbering mouth. Roland stepped over him and walked, with as much dignity as he could muster, towards his cell.

  A cheer went up that deafened Roland. The sound scared him rather than lifted him. Max would want revenge and there would be reprisals, but whatever they were, he’d have to take them and deal with them as they happened. Though the men showing appreciation would make things worse, for Max had his pride to regain. Roland shivered with fear as to how that would happen.

  Sitting on his bed, he held his head in his hands. His thoughts took on the guise of a flickering film, as events from the past visited him, then left him before he had time to grasp hold of any. Most of them held Simon. And Lucinda and Flo. Now there was only him and Flo left. Seeing her would be so painful. How had she coped? How had Simon’s family coped?

  The click of his cell door woke him, when he hadn’t been aware of falling asleep. A strange silence pervaded the usually noisy, echoing prison. Roland saw a pair of knees first. His eyes travelled up the huge body standing close to his bed. Max. Oh God!

  ‘Think yourself the big man, do yer? Think you can mess with the likes of me, eh?’

  Roland thought quickly as he stood up and faced Max. ‘No, I don’t. I’m no match for you and I apologize for using such underhand tactics, which are against the Queensberry Rules, but I hope you will understand that, although weaker than you, I had to fight back. And as that makes us even, maybe we can put all animosity behind us and try to get on together.’

  To Roland’s surprise, Max put out his hand. Wary of taking it for a moment, Roland froze. ‘Take me hand, and take me heart, man. Anyone who can fight back like you did deserves some respect. I ain’t liking what you are, but we’ve both got our time to do and we can do it in peace, if you’ll take me hand.’

  Nervous to do so, but nervous not to, Roland took Max’s hand and gave it a firm shake.

  Then he was surprised as Max said, ‘You teach folk to read, don’t yer?’

  ‘I do, Max, and I’ll gladly teach you, if you would like me to.’

  ‘I would. And I’ll offer you protection, as payment for your trouble. I envy them as can get a book out of the library and lose themselves in it for a few hours a day. It must make the time go more quickly.’

  ‘Sit down, Ma
x.’ Roland indicated the end of his bed. He could do with sitting down himself as his legs were shaking. Taking a seat next to Max, he noticed the big man move further away. He smiled inwardly at this and wanted to say, Don’t worry, I don’t fancy you, mate. But instead he outlined what the lessons entailed and explained that he only had a Friday afternoon free to fit Max in.

  After Max had left, the bell rang out for the evening meal. It was a time Roland had dreaded every day of his incarceration. A time when he was prodded with forks, tripped up or had his head shoved into his food. Or, even worse than that, on occasions had his food spat into. However, he had no choice but to attend the dining hall. Such events were compulsory and were supervised by more than one bully of a warden.

  As he entered the hall, a hush descended. Keeping his head down – to make eye contact was considered the worst of the bad sins you could commit in this place – Roland made it to the counter. A good-sized portion of mashed potato was slapped onto his tin plate, followed by a good helping of hot stew, more food than he’d ever been given before. As he walked down the aisle between the long wooden tables, no one stopped his progress or tried to hurt him, and when he sat down in his allotted place, none of those already seated moved away or began making snide remarks. Relief flooded through Roland. So much so that his guard slipped and for a moment he struggled not to cry.

  Though no one spoke directly to him, he had the feeling that he could join in with the conversation if he wanted to. He didn’t. The discussion was about the marine engineer, George Johnson Armstrong. It seemed he’d lost his appeal against his sentence to hang, and a date in early July, almost three weeks from now, had been set for his execution. The general opinion was that no one was going to remain silent, as was usual when these events took place, as the convicted man had been in contact with the Germans and had offered them assistance. He’d been found guilty of treachery.