‘Aye, you’re right, lad,’ Bessie said as she got up, and then she added, with feeling, ‘At least I hope to God you are.’
Sixteen
‘I ain’t seen hide nor hair of any of ’em this morning, Min, and I’m worried sick now.’
‘Mebbe he’s sleeping the booze off and she and the little lass are having a lie-in while he’s quiet.’
Bessie sighed. ‘Sounds reasonable, I suppose, after all the shenanigans last night, but . . .’ she bit her lip. ‘I’d feel better if I just saw one of ’em.’
They were standing outside Minnie’s door, arms folded and looking across the yard towards the Clarks’ house.
There was not a movement to be seen. No curtain moved, no window or door opened.
‘I can’t stand it any longer,’ Bessie said. ‘I’m going across there and I don’t care if I do wake ’em up.’
‘If you rouse the sleeping tiger,’ Minnie warned, ‘you’ll get more than you bargained for. And she’ll not thank you neither if she’s gettin’ a bit o’ peace.’
Bessie had taken a step forward but now she stopped again and groaned. ‘Oh Min, I don’t know what to do.’
‘Leave it till dinner time and then if we’ve seen nowt by then, well, I’ll come with you.’
Bessie considered. ‘All right. Good idea. Yes, that’s what we’ll do.’
Midday came and still there was no sign of life from her neighbours, so Bessie crossed the yard once more and rapped sharply on Minnie’s door. ‘Come on, Min, if you’re coming, ’cos I’m going to see what’s what.’
Minnie opened her door, untying her apron. ‘I’m right with you, Bess.’
Together, they approached the house and Bessie raised her hand to knock, but before she could do so, Minnie clutched her arm and said, ‘Listen, can you hear summat?’
Bessie was motionless with her arm still raised in the air. From behind the door came a whimpering like an animal in pain.
‘Oh my God,’ Bessie breathed. She grasped the doorknob, turned it and pushed, but the door did not yield.
‘It’s locked.’ Instead of raising her arm again, she put her face close to the door and called softly, ‘Is that you, Mary Ann?’
The whimpering beyond the door grew louder until it became a wail.
‘It is her,’ Bessie said. ‘I’m sure it is.’ Raising her voice again, she said, ‘Mary Ann, love, open the door.’
The two women standing outside saw and heard the doorknob move, but still the door did not open. The girl’s crying increased. ‘I can’t. There’s no key.’
‘What? But there must be,’ Bessie said, getting more and more agitated by the minute. Something was dreadfully wrong behind that door and now she was castigating herself inwardly for having waited so long before trying to find out just what had happened.
‘Look on the floor, love. Has it dropped out?’
There was a scrabbling sound and then, ‘I can’t find it.’
Then Bessie jumped as Mary Ann thumped on her side of the door. ‘Get me out, Auntie Bessie, get me out.’
‘I wish Bert or one of the lads was here.’ Bessie bit her lip and then said suddenly, ‘I know. Min, what time is it?’
‘Dunno. About twelve, I think.’
‘Right. You stay here. I’m going for Dan. With a bit of luck, he won’t have sailed yet.’
She was halfway across the yard before Minnie called after her, ‘He’ll not come, Bessie, if he’s ready to sail.’
‘He’ll come,’ Bessie muttered, pulling her shawl closely around her as she hurried through the alleyway between the houses. ‘When he knows it’s for that little lass, he’ll come.’
Only minutes later, she was hurrying back again to Waterman’s Yard, Dan loping along beside her.
‘You’re sure it’s Mary Ann behind the door, Mam?’
‘Certain,’ Bessie puffed. ‘Called me Auntie Bessie, didn’t she? “Get me out, Auntie Bessie,” she said. “Get me out.” Like a trapped animal. Poor little mite.’
‘But where’s her mam?’
‘I daren’t think, lad,’ Bessie said grimly.
‘Right then,’ Dan said, equally adamant. ‘Break down the door, it is.’
When they arrived back, other neighbours had gathered.
Gladys had joined Minnie outside the Clarks’ house and, from her doorway, Amy Hamilton was shouting unwanted advice. ‘Leave ’em to it. I don’t know what you’re bothering with them for. If I’d my way I’d . . . I’d lock the house up and set fire to the lot of ’em.’
Minnie, imbued with some of Bessie’s spirit, rounded on her. ‘Shut up, Amy. It’s the little lass and her mother we’re bothered about. Not him. I’m with you there. He can go hang, for all I care.’
‘Tarred with the same brush, the lot of ’em,’ Amy ranted.
‘You can’t blame the bairn. Be fair, Amy.’
‘Be fair, you say. Is it fair that my Ron threw his life away to save the likes of his miserable hide?’ She jabbed her finger towards the house. ‘Who thought about my Ron, eh?’
‘We all thought about your Ron and your George, Amy,’ Bessie said, coming across the yard and catching the gist of the conversation. ‘You know we did. We still do, but it doesn’t mean we have to turn our backs on Mary Ann just because of what her father is.’
‘And what would you know about it, Bessie Ruddick?’ was Amy’s parting shot as she slammed her door with such force, it seemed to rattle on its hinges.
Dan went straight to the door and called out, ‘Mary Ann? Are you there, love?’
At once they heard her cries. ‘Dan, oh Dan. Help me, please help me.’
‘Listen, love. Calm down. We’ll get you out. But first of all, try to stop crying and tell me, can you really not find the key?’
‘No, no, it’s gone. Dad’s locked the door and gone. And me mam. I can’t find me mam.’
Dan turned and his eyes met his mother’s terrified gaze as she murmured, ‘Oh my dear Lord, what has he done?’ Then with renewed vigour, she said, ‘Get that door down, son.’
Again Dan put his mouth close to the door and shouted, ‘Mary Ann, listen to me, love. Get right away from the door, ’cos I’m going to break it down and I don’t want to hurt you. Do you hear me?’
‘Yes, Dan.’
‘Do you understand, love? Stand right back out of the way.’
Her voice sounded fainter now, further away, as she said again, ‘Yes, Dan.’
Dan gave a small nod of satisfaction and stood back. First he kicked at the door near the lock, trying to break it and then he put his broad shoulders against it and heaved until the wood splintered and gave way. Pushing it aside, he stepped inside and held out his arms.
The girl rushed to him and he picked her up and held her close. She wound her arms about him and buried her face against his neck, sobbing wildly.
For a few moments he just held her, patting her back and soothing, ‘There, there. You’re safe now. It’s all right.’ Then gently he prised himself free of her clinging arms and set her on the ground. ‘Now you go with Mrs Eccleshall to our house.’
‘No, no . . .’ Mary Ann began, but when Dan said, firmly, but kindly, ‘Please do as I ask, Mary Ann, because I want me mam to come upstairs to see to your mother. Understand?’
Biting her lip, the tears still running down her face, the girl nodded, ‘But you’ll come in a minute.’
‘As soon as we can,’ was all he would promise.
As Minnie led her away, Mary Ann looked back at Dan, stumbling as she did so instead of looking where she was going. Only Minnie, holding her hand, prevented her from falling.
‘Right, Mam,’ Dan said soberly and with no relish for what they had to do. ‘We’d better have a look-see.’
‘Oh lad, what are we going to find?’
‘I daren’t think, Mam,’ Dan said, but nevertheless he led the way into the house and, following Bessie’s direction, went upstairs and into the main bedroom.
As he pushed
open the door, Bessie knew, like her, Dan was holding his breath.
The bowl and jug on the washstand had been smashed on the floor and the stand overturned. Two spindly-legged chairs had been broken as if they were matchwood and the bed had been overturned and rested at an angle against the wall.
‘I bet that was the loud thud we heard,’ Bessie muttered, her wide eyes taking in the scene of devastation before them.
‘But where is she?’ Dan said, looking round. ‘Where’s Mrs Clark?’
‘Mebbe she’s gone with him.’ Her voice hardened. ‘Mebbe they’ve both scarpered and left the little lass . . .’
‘No,’ Dan shook his head. ‘Surely no mother would leave her child.’
Bessie cast him a wry glance but said nothing. Dan might be a man now, but in some ways he still had a lot to learn about the world and its cruel ways.
‘You don’t think . . .’ he was saying and pointing with a finger that shook slightly, ‘that she’s under there?’
They exchanged a glance that said, ‘Well, if she is . . .’
Dan heaved the bed away from the wall and it fell with a crash on to the floor. Elsie was lying face downwards, squashed against the skirting board, and before Dan even turned her over very gently, they both knew that there was little or no chance of her being alive.
Seventeen
Now, of course, they had no choice. The police had to be called.
‘I’ll have to go, Mam. If I miss the tide, Mr Price might sack me.’
‘What? When you’re walking out with his daughter?’
Dan sighed. ‘That wouldn’t make a scrap of difference to Mr Price. In fact, it would make it worse, because he’d think I was deliberately taking advantage.’
Bessie sighed. ‘You’re right, Dan. Jack Price is a hard man. I know him of old.’
‘Mam, tell the police when they come that I’ll be home tomorrow and I’ll go straight to the station and give them a full statement. It’ll only be the same as yours anyway.’
Bessie nodded. ‘You go then, lad. I’ll give you a few minutes to get aboard, else if your ship’s not halfway down the river, they’ll likely fetch you back.’
Despite the gravity of the moment, Dan smiled. ‘Thanks, Mam. Good luck.’
Wryly, Bessie said, ‘I reckon I’m going to need it, lad.’
As Dan’s heavy boots clattered across the yard and away down the alley, Bessie went towards her own house, biting her lip. ‘I wish my Bert was here,’ she muttered to herself. ‘I could do with him here right this minute.’
How on earth was she going to break the dreadful news to Mary Ann?
The girl’s first question, however, was not about her mother, nor her father. ‘Where’s Dan?’ she demanded the moment Bessie set foot in the kitchen.
‘He’s had to go back to his ship, love. Come and sit down with me a minute. Min, have you got that kettle boiling? I could do with a strong cuppa.’
‘Yes, Bess.’ Minnie scuttled between kitchen and scullery and only when they were all sitting around the roaring fire in the kitchen range did Bessie say gently, ‘Mary Ann, we’ve found your mam, love.’ She glanced at Minnie, but her neighbour was looking even more round-eyed and fearful than the young girl was. ‘I’m afraid . . .’
‘She’s dead, isn’t she?’ Mary Ann took the words from her and Bessie held her breath, unable to guess exactly how the girl was about to react.
Bessie nodded. ‘I’m so sorry, love, but yes, she is. And . . . and I must call the police. You understand that, don’t you?’
Mary Ann was staring at her. Her calmness was unnerving. Bessie had steeled herself to cope with hysterics, but Mary Ann sat quietly and it was obvious by her next words that she was thinking rationally and, for her age, with adult logic.
‘My father killed her, didn’t he?’
Bessie gulped. ‘I’m afraid it does look that way, yes.’
‘And now he’s gone?’
Bessie nodded.
‘He locked me in, didn’t he? Locked me in that house with my mother lying dead somewhere . . . Where was she?’
‘Did you look in their bedroom?’
Mary Ann nodded.
‘So, you saw the bed against the wall?’
Again the girl nodded.
‘She . . . she was under that.’
Beside her Bessie heard Minnie gasp and, turning to glance at her, saw that she had turned white.
‘Here, give me that cup before you drop it,’ she said, getting up at once. ‘Now, head down between your knees. I can’t do with you fainting on me just now, Minnie Eccleshall.’
A little roughly, though not unkindly, Bessie took the cup and saucer out of Minnie’s shaking hands and thrust her head into her own lap. ‘Now, just stay like that till you feel better.’ She glanced at Mary Ann. ‘You all right, love?’
Although the girl nodded, Bessie was still worried. Her reaction was unnatural. Although it would be hard to deal with, she almost wished Mary Ann would cry, rage even. At least that would be more normal. But she just sat there, staring ahead of her, her face expressionless, her hands lying idly in her lap, as if her mind was completely blank.
Perhaps it was, Bessie thought. Perhaps that was going to be the girl’s way of dealing with it. Just not to think about it.
Slowly Minnie sat up. ‘I’m all right, Bessie, honest. Sorry. Now, what do you want me to do?’
‘Finish your tea first,’ Bessie said, sitting down again herself and picking up her own cup. She glanced at the clock. Dan had had a good half an hour’s start now. Time enough, she thought. She mustn’t be much longer fetching the police or they would want to know why she had delayed calling them. ‘Then,’ she went on, ‘if you’d look after Mary Ann, I’ll see to everything else.’
Minnie nodded gratefully and gave another little shudder, pleased not to have to go into the house next door. ‘You can come home with me, Mary Ann.’
Bessie nodded her approval. Although it was only just across the yard, at least in Minnie’s home, Mary Ann would hear less of the comings and goings next door.
As she saw them out, Bessie whispered to Minnie, ‘Keep her the far side of your house, if you can. The less she sees the better, poor bairn.’
Minnie nodded. ‘There’s only me scullery window looks over this way. I’ll do me best, Bessie.’
Bessie patted her friend’s shoulder. ‘I know you will, Min. Thanks.’
As Bessie stood in the middle of the yard awaiting the arrival of the police, Amy opened her door. ‘What’s going on, Bessie? What are you standing there for?’
Bessie glanced over her shoulder towards the alleyway, but there was no one emerging from its shadows into the yard yet.
She moved towards Amy and said in a low voice. ‘There’s trouble at the Clarks’ house. The police are on their way. I’ve just been to the station to fetch them.’
Amy smiled maliciously. ‘Good for you, Bess. Get the bugger arrested, that’s what I say. Sling him back in jail where he belongs. Let him rot . . .’
‘He’s not there, Amy. He’s gone.’
Amy’s mouth dropped open. ‘Gone? Gone where?’
Bessie shrugged. ‘Dunno.’
‘So why . . .?’ Amy began and then her eyes widened. ‘You don’t mean he’s done for her?’
‘Well, she’s dead. That’s all I know for certain. But it looks like it.’
Even Amy, for a moment, was shocked. Then her mouth was a grim, tight line. ‘I can’t say I’m surprised. That’s all his sort are good for, battering defenceless women. I told you he was no good. That’s what comes of having a conchy in our yard. I hope they find him and hang him.’
Grimly, Bessie said, ‘If they do find him, that’s exactly what they will do. Hang him.’
‘Hanging’s too good for him,’ Amy said now, perversely. ‘They should throw him to the women. All us women, who’ve lost someone in the war. We’d soon show him what we thought of a conchy.’
‘Oh Amy,’ Bessie sigh
ed sadly. ‘Don’t be so bitter, love.’
‘Bitter? Bitter, you say? Don’t you think I’ve got good reason to be bitter?’
With that Amy slammed the door just as Bessie heard what sounded like an army of heavy boots thundering down the alleyway and into the yard.
‘So, Mrs Ruddick. You and your son found the body, did you?’
Bessie faced the burly, solemn-faced policeman. He was not in uniform but had introduced himself as Inspector Chapman. He seemed to be in charge of a sergeant and several younger constables, who were dashing about doing his bidding.
Bessie licked her dry lips. ‘Yes. My son Dan has had to go back to work. He said to tell you that when he gets back tomorrow, he’ll come straight to the station to see you.’ She tried to smile winningly at the man. ‘I’ll tell him to ask for you, shall I?’
The man was unmoved and said sternly, ‘He should not have done that, Mrs Ruddick. He should have waited here.’
Bessie bristled. ‘He’s on one of Mr Price’s ships and he’d have missed the tide, else. Expect him to lose his job, do you?’
‘This is a very serious matter, Mrs Ruddick.’
‘I know that,’ Bessie snapped. ‘I’ve got eyes in me head, ain’t I? But, like I said, he’ll come and see you just as soon as he gets back tomorrow. Besides, I was with him. He can’t tell you any more than I can.’ Craftily, she added, ‘Not as much, really.’
‘Oh? Why is that?’
‘Because me and Bert heard all the rumpus going on in the night.’
‘And who might Bert be?’
‘Me husband, of course.’ Bessie was fast losing her patience. She had got off on the wrong foot with this man, she knew, so she took a deep breath and tried to hold on to her composure. ‘Dan wasn’t even here.’
‘Really?’
‘No. His young lady had been here with us to see the New Year in and he’d taken her home.’
‘I see. We shall need her name and address to verify that.’
‘Whatever for?’
‘To confirm your son’s alibi.’
‘Alibi? What on earth should my Dan need an alibi for?’
‘No need to get alarmed, madam. It’s just routine.’
The River Folk Page 11