by Anne Bennett
When he had finished he looked at him with wild eyes that shone with a strange, almost demonic light and spat out through his thin lips, ‘You stupid, useless bastard!’
Ray had begun to shake. He couldn’t ever remember being so scared.
Charlie could sense his fear and, watching Collingsworth, knew he was aware of it too. Even Ray’s voice shook as he said placatingly, ‘Yes, but—’
‘You’re nothing but a sodding arsehole who can be trusted to do nothing.’
‘Give me another chance?’ Ray pleaded. ‘We’ll find her easily in the morning because she has no money and no contacts, and little more than the clothes she stood up in. Christ, she might be dead already and if she isn’t I’ll finish her off, promise.’
‘Like you did before?’
‘Yeah, I know, but—’
Suddenly, Collingsworth lost patience with him and clicked his fingers. Immediately, two heavies, who had been flanking the walls, stepped forward. Ray took one look at them and tried to make a bolt for the door, but he knew it was useless. One caught hold of him, easily lifting him and then set him down on the floor and held him with his hands behind his back.
‘Edwin, please?’ Ray implored frantically. ‘Give me another chance? I’m begging you …’
His voice ended in a scream of terror as the other heavy powered a punch that snapped his head back and caused Charlie to wince. He continued to thump his fist into Ray and Collingsworth watched it all impassively. Charlie was sure they intended to kill Ray as his cries gave way to whimpers and then moans until in the end he lost consciousness. Only then did Collingsworth snap his fingers, and the sickening thuds into the bloodied man stopped.
The man holding Ray let him slump to the floor, as Collingsworth growled out, ‘Dump him in one of the bedrooms for now and lock the door. We don’t want any more escaping.’
Charlie looked at Collingsworth nervously as he wondered if some of the same treatment was to be meted out to him, but Collingsworth had no problem with Charlie. ‘We will lead a search for the girl as soon as it’s any way light at all,’ he said, ‘so you be back here at seven or so and we will go over what everyone is to do.’
‘What about Ray?’ Charlie said, feeling bound to ask.
‘What about him?’ Collingsworth replied. ‘He won’t be going anywhere for some time, and really that is just a foretaste of what will happen to him if he screws up again. If we find the girl alive then he will deal with her, and if he fails this time …’
He didn’t need to say any more. At his words and the expression on his face, Charlie felt as if an icy finger had trailed down his spine and he knew he wouldn’t change places with Ray for anything he could name.
TWENTY
‘We have them completely flummoxed,’ Will told Betty the next day. ‘As Collingsworth said to me today, it’s like the girl has disappeared off the face of the earth. They are convinced too that she had to have help, but they don’t know who, or what or anything.’
‘They don’t suspect you?’
‘My dear girl, this lot would suspect their own mothers,’ Will said. ‘Oh, they have been round to the house. I know their tactics: one keeps you talking while the other has a good poke around, but of course he found nothing.’
‘Why you?’ Betty asked in alarm.
‘Why not me?’ Will said. ‘I shouldn’t imagine that I was the only one. Anyway, you say the girl isn’t well?’
‘Ah, Will, that girl has gone through it,’ Betty said. ‘Her name is Molly. She told us that much, but she doesn’t know her other name. In fact, she doesn’t know much. She is so doped up she was near climbing the walls, shaking and crying all the time, begging and pleading for us to get her that muck that Ray was pumping into her. She didn’t sleep at all last night. Mom has been great, but we took it in turns through the night because she can’t be left. If we have to leave her for any reason we have to lock her in.’
‘She wouldn’t be crazy enough to go out, surely?’
‘Will, when she is in the throes of this addiction she is crazy enough to do anything,’ Betty said.
Betty was right. Molly felt as if she was going mad. Hammers banged inside her head and griping cramps in her stomach doubled her over and caused her to groan and cry out with the pain. She was unable to control her limbs and she shook constantly, and though she was tired, incredibly weary, her mind was jumping about too much to allow her to sleep. She couldn’t eat either, and whatever she tried was vomited straight back. It was gin she craved, or whisky, and the white powders that made her feel better. She begged and pleaded for those.
Added to this, her body either ached or throbbed or stung from the beatings she had received, and she could feel her face was a pulpy bloodied mess, though neither Ruby nor Betty had let her look at herself. She wondered if life was worth living. She was a girl with no past, a very uncertain future and she was bloody scared stiff.
However, Molly did improve, though it was slow, and it was a week later before she realised that her symptoms were easing. She went downstairs for the first time, but only in the evening because it wasn’t safe for her to be up in the day when a neighbour might catch sight of her and start asking awkward questions.
She was frustrated that she could still remember nothing of her past, but Betty told her not to worry about it. ‘Maybe you are trying too hard,’ she said. ‘Let it all sort of fester in your head, like, and then it might come back in a rush.’
‘I really wish that would happen,’ Molly said. ‘You know, Ray must have had me drugged up to the eyeballs most of the time, because I had no idea so much time had elapsed. I was living a sort of half-life. And I thought he was wonderful, you know. That is what I can’t get over.’
‘Don’t think about that any more,’ Betty advised. ‘That was the way he wanted you. Will says you are not the first he has virtually abducted in the guise of being friendly, and the others were all sent to whorehouses. You weren’t to know he was a perverted bully.’
‘Yes, I know, but here you are preparing for Christmas, and I have sort of lost a big portion of my life.’
‘Don’t think about it any more,’ Ruby said. ‘You can give us a hand making all the festive stuff, if you are up to it. Mind, it will be a bit of a frugal Christmas, with rationing biting as tight as it is, but we’ll do our best.’
Molly knew that everyone only got just so much food each week and by living there she was taking someone else’s share. She said, ‘I should get my own ration book. It’s wrong to take your allowance.’
‘Maybe in the New Year,’ Will said. ‘You couldn’t go out with your face looking like that anyway, and it is too soon to be taking to the streets. Remember, if you are spotted and identified, the rest of us are in danger too.’
‘I do see that,’ Molly said. ‘And I would never do that to you – I owe you too much. But how are you managing?’
‘I get extra rations,’ Betty said. ‘I have a special green ration book because I am pregnant and I have extra milk and am entitled to more eggs. Then Mom bought in tinned stuff long before war was declared. She knew that war was inevitable – well, we all did really, after Munich – and she remembered the last war when the gentry bought nearly all the food up in some shops. So every week she would buy a few extra items and put them away. Don’t worry, we get by all right.’
And with that Molly had to be content.
‘Wakey, wakey, Molly.’
Molly had been in an unusually deep and dreamless sleep, and as she struggled to wakefulness she saw Will beside her bed, with Betty and Ruby behind him, big smiles plastered across their faces, and carrying parcels wrapped in brown paper.
‘What’s this?’ Molly asked, though she too was smiling. ‘I am too old to believe in Santa Claus.’
‘No one is too old to believe in Santa Claus,’ Will declared. ‘Look at this special delivery that was waiting for you downstairs this morning.’
‘I know what manner of delivery it was, and it was f
rom no man in a red suit,’ Molly said. ‘And really, you shouldn’t have. I already owe you so much and haven’t two halfpennies to bless myself with to buy any of you anything, even if I could get out to take a look in the shops.’
‘It’s not worth it,’ Will told her. ‘The shops have little stock now. If you ask me, clothes will be the next thing to be rationed.’
‘Well,’ said Betty. ‘I will hardly notice that, but I’d say it might be harder when the baby comes because one thing babies are good at is growing.’
‘You’re right there, girl,’ Ruby said with a chuckle.
Will put in, ‘Well, I’d say Molly has done growing.’ He placed the parcel on the bed beside her, adding, ‘These are things you will need and they are not new, but bought at the Rag Market down the Bull Ring. Open it. Go on.’
Molly unwrapped the parcel to reveal a matching hat, gloves and a scarf in a warm russet colour and of the softest wool.
Will said, ‘Happy Christmas, Molly.’
This sentiment was echoed by the others, but Molly barely heard them for a memory was tugging at her brain. There was another time when this had happened, when someone had wished her Happy Christmas and had given into her hand a parcel containing a hat, scarf and gloves set. The image came into focus and she shut her eyes tight, unwilling to let this memory go. She saw herself receiving the gift, reacting with pleasure and surprise, and she suddenly said, ‘Uncle Tom.’ She had no idea where the name had come from at first and then his dear open face appeared before her and she said, ‘He gave me a set like this for Christmas years ago.’
Will was very excited. It was nice to know that Molly wasn’t completely alone in the world. ‘And where is he now, this uncle of yours?’
Molly shook her head; there was no more.
‘Likely in Ireland,’ Ruby said. ‘From your accent I would say that is where you come from.’
‘Could be right,’ Will said. ‘And Ray would have probably picked you up at the station.’
‘I can’t believe that you were mixed up with people like these,’ Betty said.
‘We’ve been through that, Betty,’ Will said, ‘And Christmas Day is not the time to discuss it further. Give Molly your parcels.’
Betty had bought Molly a winter coat. It was dark brown, very stylish, and fitted with a half-belt fastened at the back. The collar and cuffs were trimmed with velvet the exact same shade as the things Will had bought. Ruby gave Molly a pair of fur-lined brown boots.
‘I haven’t been so well dressed for years,’ Molly said in delight at the lovely things chosen just for her. This was true, for through the day she was also wearing Betty’s clothes that she was too big to fit into now.
All through that wonderful Christmas Day and days following, the memories, so long hidden from her, began to flit across Molly’s mind. They weren’t in any order or sequence, and she struggled to make sense of them, but she rejoiced in each one and stored it away. It was New Year’s Eve before she had them in some order and could tell Will, Betty and Ruby about her earlier life.
She told of why she had been forced to go to Ireland and of the years there, and the note from her brother that had sent her scurrying back. She told them how she had met Ray and Charlie at New Street Station, and the raid that so unnerved her.
‘Ray, in particular, seemed so kind and terribly considerate of my fears. The first shelter we were in was caught in the blast of a bomb. It was utter mayhem and I ended up leaving my case behind with everything in it. It was crushed when the shelter collapsed. Without Ray and Charlie that night I would have been lost and so I sort of marked them down as good people, you know?’ She sighed and went on. ‘That allayed any suspicions I might have had about them. After that, it all gets a bit hazy. I suppose that was the drugs, wasn’t it?’
Will nodded. ‘I’d say so. It’s how they usually work. I know little about that side of things, but from what I hear, the girls taken to the whorehouse are often unaware of where they are until it is too late. It is Ray’s job to get them hooked on those powders and gin so they will do anything it takes to get the money for their next fix, or next drink.’
‘And I was nearly one of them,’ Molly said. ‘I didn’t know what I was doing in that flat, and I didn’t care until the night Collingsworth came. I remember him saying he paid dearly to get a virgin and he got so mad when I said I couldn’t do that sort of thing.’
‘How did you get the better of him?’ Will asked. ‘I wondered at the time, and more since I have met you, for you are just a dot of a thing.’
‘Ah, that was just a lucky chance and I took it,’ Molly said, and she went on to explain how she had felled Collingsworth.
‘But how did you get him outside the door?’ Will asked.
‘I was so angry and frightened by then,’ Molly said, ‘I think I could have shifted a steamroller if I’d had to. And then I just rolled him down the stairs.’
‘To the day he dies he will never forgive you for that,’ Will said, and a tremor ran all through Molly at his words.
‘Shut up, Will,’ Betty said sharply. ‘Can’t you see you are scaring the poor girl to death? I for one don’t blame her in the slightest, and I would have done the same or worse in her shoes. Finished off the old bugger, I would have.’
‘I thought she had,’ Will said. ‘Honest, my heart near stopped when I saw him there. Might have solved one problem as well, Betty, but it would make a hundred more. People like that are too influential for folk to be able to bump them off and get away with it. The man isn’t worth ending your life at the end of a hangman’s rope. I was bloody glad the man was still alive, I’ll tell you. Molly,’ he turned to her, ‘I know you lost your case, but have you anything of value at all, because to get away from here you will need money?’
‘I have just this,’ Molly said, withdrawing the locket, ‘though I would hate to part with it.’ She clicked it open and showed him the picture of her parents inside.
‘You wouldn’t get much for it either,’ Will said. ‘It’s gold they are after.’
‘There is nothing else,’ Molly said. ‘I had money, but Ray took it from me – to keep it safe, he said – and I never saw it again. But no, oh, wait,’ she cried suddenly, leaping to her feet with a cry of excitement and pounding up the stairs. ‘I wasn’t sure they would still be there,’ she said when she returned. ‘I had them in the pocket of the wrap I had on.’ She opened her hand to reveal the cufflinks.
‘Those are Collingsworth’s, and solid gold,’ Will said. ‘Where did you get them?’
Molly told him and he whistled in astonishment. ‘God, that was jammy. He hasn’t missed them. He was in no fit state to notice much that night, but even afterwards he’s not said anything. Point is, he owns so many pairs and yet he knows every one. You’ll get a pretty penny for these.’
‘D’you mean someone will buy them?’
‘To pawn them would be best.’
‘Pawn them?’ Molly said, wrinkling her nose. ‘I’ve heard of people pawning things but I have never done it myself. How does it work?’
‘The pawnbroker sort of buys things from you, but gives you a ticket that you can redeem to get the stuff back within a certain time, only you have to pay him more than he gave you. If you don’t redeem it, then he is at liberty to sell it.’
‘Well, we’ll do that then.’
‘Yeah, but not around here,’ Will said. ‘Collingsworth is too well known in these parts and all around the town. Need to go maybe as far as Sutton Coldfield to be safe.’
‘Oh, I know where that is,’ Molly said. ‘That won’t bother me.’
‘And I can’t be involved in this,’ Will said. ‘If ever these are recognised by someone I cannot risk them being traced back to me. With a bit of luck you might well be out of it by then, but we will all still be here.’
‘I know, Will,’ Molly said. ‘You have done more than enough and I would ask no more of you.’ She meant every word and yet she recoiled at the thought of entering
a pawnbroker’s. But she knew if she was ever to leave Ruby’s and press on with what she had come to Birmingham for, she had to do it.
Will was still nervous about Molly going out and about, but knew that she really did need to register for a ration book and identity card because everyone did, and they couldn’t manage to feed her without one for much longer. Molly understood Will’s concern, and it wasn’t only Collingsworth she had to be careful of, but the neighbours too.
Early in the New Year, Molly and Ruby were up and out well before it was light, easy enough to do in those dark and dismal winter days, but both women were tired, for there had been a raid the night before and they had had to seek shelter in the cellar and so were feeling very jaded. As they scurried for the tram, Molly heard the frost crackling beneath her feet. The piercing wind cut through her like a knife, despite her good thick coat, and the air was so raw it almost hurt to breath.
And yet she knew the bleak weather conditions worked to their advantage because, in the inky blackness with her hat pulled well down and scarf wrapped around her mouth, Molly felt quite safe, especially as they met few people on the road and those they did were similarly clad. Everyone seemed to be in a rush to get some place too, and she couldn’t blame them one bit. She imagined they were too anxious to be about their own business and under cover as quickly as possible and had no time or inclination to worry about other people on the road. Certainly no one gave them a backward glance, and it was far too chilly for anyone to linger.
The swaying clanking and very draughty tram dropped them at Colmore Row, and as they walked up that wide road towards the Council House, Molly had great sympathy for the citizens of Birmingham. She could see in the gloomy half-light, the gaping holes, often filled with piles of masonry, charred roof beams, slates and other assorted debris where once buildings had stood.