by Irene Carr
Annie pointed to the cup and saucer on the table: ‘There it is. I made it fresh but poured it out a few minutes ago. Do you want a hot one?’
‘No, this is fine.’ Katy managed a smile and held the cup in both hands so that it would not spill with her shaking.
Annie said, ‘That took some time. What did that feller want?’
Katy lied, ‘He just wanted some details about his job on Monday.’
She contrived to act normally and to talk to Annie until she left for home. Katy let her out of the gate and bolted it again behind her. She locked the office door and also made sure all the windows were fastened. She had never before been afraid to be alone in the flat save for the girls, but now . . . Despite her precautions, she lay awake, twitching as shadows moved on the wall and listening to the sounds of the night, every creaking board and the tiny settling noises of the embers of the fire in the kitchen. She told herself that Howard Ross had gone, but when she closed her eyes she could see his cold smile and burning eyes. She did not sleep for a long time and then only fitfully.
The following days were filled with work and worry. To some extent the former brought welcome relief from the latter, though whenever Katy had a breathing space her fear of Howard would seize her again. But the work kept on, Howard did not return and after a while her memories of his rage and hatred receded. She began to believe that, by standing up to him, she had got rid of him for good. Katy became more and more convinced of this as the days passed.
They were times when she would send Beatrice off to school and take Louise to stay with Annie Scanlon for the day. Louise was in favour of this, as she was spoiled by Annie and was able to play with the other pre-school age children in Annie’s street. Beatrice was not sure whether she approved of this, but Katy told her she was lucky to be allowed to go to school while Louise was not. Beatrice accepted this honour being paid to her, but with limited enthusiasm. However, when the schools were on holiday both girls would go to Annie.
This had been the pattern of their days for a year or more. Katy would go back to spend the day in the office, trying to cope with the work and reduce the backlog, but sometimes she had to take one of the lorries out on a job. Still, that was a relief from the ‘pen-pushing’ and she took pleasure in the work. She and Matt were building a successful business, together, even though they might be miles apart when he was out on the road.
Relief from Fleur’s surveillance came at the end of July when Matt acceded to his wife’s clamouring and took her away to the South Coast for a fortnight, the two weeks either side of the August Bank Holiday. Matt told Katy wryly, ‘This holiday calls for a whole new wardrobe for Fleur. Do you think you can hold the fort while I’m away?’
Katy grinned at him, ‘I’ll try.’ And she did, though it meant long hours of work again.
But it was at the end of July that another worry arose that eclipsed all the rest, the threat of war. Every newspaper carried the warning and the word in huge letters: WAR. In that week leading up to the August Bank Holiday there was talk of little else. On Sunday of that weekend the newsboys ran through the streets with their bundles of the Sunderland Daily Echo under their arms, shrieking, ‘Special Echo! Special Echo! General Mobilisation!’ Katy heard them, bought a newspaper and read the stark account. Germany was threatening to invade Belgium and the British government had sent an ultimatum to Berlin: Germany must respect Belgian neutrality or Britain would declare war. The ultimatum would expire on Tuesday, 4th of August at eleven p.m.
Army Reservists were being recalled to the colours. She knew that meant Matt. For a time she could not believe that their world was to be turned upside down. She had realised vaguely that he had been a soldier and was still liable to serve if needed but had never thought the occasion would arise. She slept very badly that night and all through Monday there seemed to be an air of hysteria.
On that fateful Tuesday morning Katy delivered Beatrice and Louise to Annie — the schools were on holiday — and kissed them both. ‘I’ll be back to fetch you later on. Be good for Annie, now.’
Annie assured her, ‘They’ll be all right. And I’ll try to have the little ‘un clean when you come for her.’ Katy went away, laughing at that because Louise had a reputation for dirtying a clean white pinny in an impossibly short time.
Katy walked back to the yard, worrying about Matt and then saw him with a leap of her heart. His Vauxhall stood outside the office and he was at his desk. The men were busy about the yard and some were almost ready to go out, only needing their orders for the day. Katy could only say the foolishly obvious, ‘You’re home early.’
Matt snapped at her, ‘I’ve been told that already. Fleur wanted to stay on for the second week. She seems to think this war will wait until she’s ready for it.’ He was
unshaven, looked tired and went on, ‘I had to damn near drag her onto the train. I got the first one I could but it left King’s Cross at midnight and it was full of sailors. We only just managed to get seats, let alone a sleeper. It was a hell of a trip for Fleur.’
Katy could imagine how Fleur had reacted, her holiday cancelled and then a sleepless night crammed into the corner of a railway carriage. She said, ‘I’m sorry. Look, you can leave me to get the men off to work. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep.’
Matt hesitated. ‘I want to tidy my affairs before I report to the barracks. I’m nearly done here and I’ll take your advice soon, but Harry Rogers hasn’t turned in. He’s an Army reservist and he’s gone back to the Northumberland Fusiliers.’ Harry Rogers was one of the drivers. Matt went on to ask, ‘Will you take his lorry and his mate and do Harry’s jobs? Mine were local and I’ve postponed them for now, but Harry had a morning’s work making deliveries spread out over a few villages and there’s no way I can get in touch with them as late as this.’
Katy agreed, ‘I’ll do it.’
‘Good!’ He grinned at her, ‘I can always depend on you. Now I have to go and pack.’
Katy, bitterness in her soul, said, ‘I suppose Fleur is upset at your going.’
Matt nodded gloomily. ‘She’s taking it very well, no tears. But that reminds me; she was asking about money. If this scare doesn’t blow over, if it does come to war, I don’t want Fleur to suffer. So I’ll make her an allowance out of my share of the profits. I’ll look in this afternoon and leave an authority with you so she will be able to draw from the bank. I’ll see you then.’ He waved and drove away in the Vauxhall.
So Katy climbed up into the cab of the Dennis allotted to Harry Rogers and drove out of the yard to deliver his loads. At that same moment Howard Ross stopped at the end of Annie’s street, as he had every day for weeks. He leaned against a lamppost, apparently reading a newspaper held up before his face but in reality watching the activity in the street. By now he had established the daily routine of Katy’s life. He saw Louise playing with some other toddlers only a score of yards away, and Beatrice in another group of older children gathered around a lamppost swing. After a time Annie came to her front door and saw the children were happy in their games, laughing and excited. She watched them, smiling, for a minute, then returned to her kitchen and the meal she was preparing for mid-day. It was all as Howard had learned to expect.
Now he moved, turning his head to nod at the motor taxi-cab waiting behind him. He saw the driver yank at the starting handle then climb into his seat. Howard strolled down the street, apparently just another passer-by, folding the newspaper and stuffing it into his pocket as he went. When he came to the little blonde three-year-old he stooped to smile at her and said, ‘Hello, Louise. Your mam sent me to take you back to her at the yard.’
She smiled up at him and took the hand he held out to her. ‘Are you one of her workmen, then, Mister?’
‘That’s right,’ he told her, and led her away. ‘And your mam sent me and not one o’ the others because I’m your uncle. So you call me Uncle Ralph.’
Louise hung back for a moment, asking, ‘What about Bea?’ Sh
e pointed at Beatrice, seated in a loop of rope and swinging around the lamppost, oblivious to anything outside her little circle of friends.
Ross assured Louise, ‘She’s coming along later. Your mother only wants you at the moment. It’s going to be a surprise.’ That satisfied Louise. He opened the door of the taxi and lifted her in: ‘Whoopsadaisy!’ Louise laughed with glee.
Annie came to her front door some ten minutes later and looked in vain for Louise. She acted at once, though concerned rather than afraid, thinking that the child had only wandered off but would be frightened when she found she was lost. She was also surprised because Louise had never done this before. ‘Beatrice! Where’s Louise?’
Beatrice stopped swinging and peered around her then said uncertainly, ‘She was with them.’ She nodded.
Annie sought out the small girls she had last seen playing with Louise and asked worriedly, ‘Where’s Louise gone?’
Most of them gazed around them blankly, but then one, another grubby little three-year-old, said, ‘She went away with the man.’ Annie got the rest out of her in disjointed sentences: ‘He was a big man with white hair.’ And: ‘He said her mam sent him.’ That was all she knew but it was enough to set Annie’s hands shaking.
She ran round to the yard but there was no one there save Ernie Thompson and he told her Katy was not expected back until noon. Annie told her neighbours and the police and the search started.
When Katy drove her Dennis into the yard a few minutes after twelve she was startled to see a policeman standing outside the office. She immediately feared trouble of some sort. Had Matt or one of the men been involved in a crash? But then Annie ran from the office and threw herself against the cab of the Dennis, crying, ‘A man’s run off with Louise! Katy, I’m sorry, lass, I’m sorry, sorry . . .’
For a second, Annie’s face danced before Katy’s eyes but then her vision cleared and she clutched at the sobbing old woman. ‘It’s not your fault! Now, did you see him?’
Annie broke off from her tearful apologies to recount the three-year-old’s description: ‘A big man with white hair.’ Katy’s heart lurched within her. She knew who that had to be.
The policeman stood behind Annie and now he said, ‘My sergeant’s out directing the search but he’ll be back any minute, ma’am. Do you recognise anyone from that description?
‘Yes, I do.’ Katy’s voice shook with shock, fear and outrage. All pretence abandoned now and careless of proprieties, she said, ‘His name is Howard Ross, he’s the father of my child and I know where he comes from.’ The police would not have searched for Ross when he abandoned her because he had broken no law, but now he was guilty of abduction.
An hour later Katy was on a train bound for Newcastle. As it pulled into the station she saw the platform was crowded. A police sergeant was waiting for her as she stepped off the train, standing out from the throng in his helmet. He had been warned of her coming and of the circumstances of the case. He put a finger to his helmet in salute and introduced himself: ‘Sergeant Leybourne, ma’am. We don’t know of any Howard Ross, except where he’s gone.’ And when she stared, he explained, ‘We couldn’t trace anybody of that name as living in Newcastle, but when we made inquiries at railway stations and shipping offices we found something. If you’ll come with me, please.’ His face was serious.
Katy swallowed, suddenly afraid. She whispered, ‘What have you found? Is it . . .?’ She couldn’t say it.
Leybourne had seen her fear and held out a steadying hand. ‘We believe your little girl has come to no harm. We haven’t found her but we think we know where she is.’ He urged her towards the street, making a way for her through the crowds, and explained their presence: ‘All these chaps are Army reservists, called up to join the colours and on their way to their regimental depots.’ Katy now saw that the people filling the station were predominantly men of any age from twenty-five to forty. There were tearful women clinging to the arms of some of them. Katy had seen similar scenes at Sunderland before she boarded the train and her thoughts went to Matt, another reservist, as they had then. But now she only cared for . • •
Katy pleaded, ‘Where are we going? Where is she?’ ‘There’s a clerk in a shipping office here who says that last Friday he booked passages for a Howard Ross and his
niece, Louise, on a German ship bound for Hamburg. We want you to hear what he has to say and ask him any questions you might have.’ They were outside the station now and he was handing her into a horse-drawn cab. ‘It isn’t far.’
Katy stared sightlesly out of the window at streets and shops which had been familiar to her when she had worked and lived in this city. She did not see them now, not even Ashleigh’s as they clattered past the gates of the warehouse. Her mind was filled with pictures of a wolfishly grinning Howard and a weeping Louise. The next thing she knew was Sergeant Leybourne saying, ‘Here we are.’
They climbed down from the cab outside an office which Katy remembered and was close to the Tyne. The sergeant, helmet under his arm, pushed open the door for Katy to enter. Inside was a counter and beyond it a desk where a clerk, dapper in suit and bow tie, bespectacled, brisk and busy, sat writing. He laid down his pen when he saw them and came to the counter. The sergeant said, ‘Them inquiries I was making earlier on — this is the lady. Will you tell her about this feller who booked passages for Hamburg?’
‘Aye.’ The clerk took off his spectacles and smiled nervously at Katy. ‘He came in last Friday afternoon and wanted to book for him and his niece. He gave their names as Howard Ross and Louise Merrick. I thought it was funny, with all the talk about crisis and Germany, him wanting to go there, but that was what he wanted and he paid cash, so that was what he got.’
The sergeant asked, ‘And description?’
The clerk lifted his shoulders in a shrug, ‘I can only tell you what I told you before: he was six foot or over, strong looking, blond hair, blue eyes, well-dressed — nice suit — a handsome feller.’
Leybourne looked a question at Katy and she confirmed, ‘That sounds like Louise’s father.’ And seeing the curiosity in the clerk’s eyes she explained, not caring what anyone thought now, ‘Louise is my daughter, born out of wedlock.’
He stared, not saying anything for a moment, storing away this piece of scandal for gossiping purposes later. Then he added, Well, that’s all I can tell you, except that I gave him the tickets for the Freya because she was the only vessel in the river bound for Germany, let alone Hamburg. She didn’t complete her cargo till this morning and she sailed just after eleven.’ He glanced at the clock on the wall: ‘She’ll be well out to sea by now.’
He stopped then, seeing the tears running down Katy’s face, and looked uncomfortably at Leybourne, appealing for help. The policeman took Katy’s arm. ‘I don’t think we can do any more here, ma’am.’
Katy thought, Nor anywhere else. Louise was out of her reach, gone away with her father and at his mercy for as long as this war might last. And she was suddenly certain that war was inevitable. She could not see either the policeman or the clerk properly because of the tears blinding her, could hardly mouth the words through the grief which was choking her: ‘Will you take me to the station, please? I want to go back to Sunderland.’ She wanted to hide from the world and went, drooping, with Leybourne.
*
Ivor Spargo made the run from York to Newcastle twice a week. He was in .charge of the vehicle inasmuch as he conducted the business but he had a man to drive it for him. Vera, his mother, had bitterly insisted on that. Her anger at having to leave Sunderland had not abated. She daily derided and cursed Arthur and Ivor for the fiasco they had engineered. Ivor was grateful for the trip to Newcastle because it took him out of reach of her whiplash of a tongue for a while, at least.
The business was the collection of miscellaneous goods from warehouses set by the Tyne. It was as he emerged from one of these that Ivor saw Katy being helped into a cab by a police sergeant. Even from across the street, Ivor could see
that she was distressed and wiping at her eyes with a scrap of handkerchief. As he stared the cabbie shook the reins and the horse trotted away with the cab swaying behind it. A clerk stood outside an office, watching it go, and Ivor told his driver, ‘Wait here a minute.’
The driver protested, ‘We can’t hang around here all day! Your ma will be expecting us!’ He knew Ivor stood in fear of Ma Spargo.
But Ivor was not deterred this time and only snarled back at him, ‘You damn well wait!’ He ran across the road to catch the clerk before he could re-enter his office, and panted, ‘Here! Was that lass getting arrested?’ And craftily pretending solicitude rather than vulgar curiosity, ‘It must be a mistake, a bonny lass like that.’
The clerk shook his head dolefully. ‘No, she’s not being pinched. It’s a very sad case. I don’t know all the ins and outs but it seems she had a bairn by a feller and then he didn’t marry her. Now he’s taken the little lass and gone off to Germany. That woman you saw is broken-hearted.’
Ivor feigned sorrow, ‘Aw! That’s terrible! So he’s not taking her to the station?’
The clerk chuckled at this. ‘Aye, he is, but not the pollis station. She’s gone to get the train back to Sunderland.’ Then he stared because Ivor was racing across to the lorry and swinging up into the cab. A second later it roared off down the street.
At the railway station, Katy smiled shakily up at Sergeant Leybourne and said, ‘Thank you, but I can manage on my own from here.’