by Mary Wood
‘You’ll be doing no such thing. They’d kill you as soon as they saw you.’
‘My dear, the sergeant is right. You will be in too much danger, and you going there won’t save Sally. It will only serve to have you both killed!’
‘I can’t bear it. What have I done? Oh God, what have I done? Please, please let me go to Susan. She’ll be distraught and she’s already poorly.’
‘Look, Sergeant, what if you brought Susan here? I think Hattie is right. They need to be together. The poor woman must be going out of her mind.’
‘Well, sir, if that’s what you want, but it is very dangerous. She isn’t implicated at this moment, but if police are seen to go to her house and she is seen leaving, well . . .’
‘It won’t be like that, Jackson, and you know it. What game are you at playing? Susan isn’t meant to know anything, so the natural thing to do when her young ’un doesn’t come home is to call you lot in. Police being round her place wouldn’t look suspicious at all. If you’re trying to get at me through all this, you’re a bigger bastard than I thought you were.’
‘Get at you, my dear? Why should he?’
‘It isn’t like that, sir. Hattie, I . . .’
‘Then get Susan over here, and get Sally out of wherever she is. I don’t care about me being safe. Just make it so as they are!’
‘I’ll get Susan, but Sally stays put. She’s all right. She was spotted yesterday evening, playing with that Doreen in the yard of the house they took her to.’
‘But that were hours ago. They could have told her I were delayed – but a whole night! She’ll be scared.’
‘Well, according to my man, there’s been no sound of a young ’un in distress.’
‘Oh no! That means they’ve used sommat on her – sommat to quieten her. They’ve used it afore on lassies they’ve brought in. They sleep for hours. Oh, Sally! Sally, what have I done?’
‘You’ve done the best thing you could’ve. If they’ve used something on her – well, that isn’t a bad thing. As long as they know what they’re up to, it’ll be like you say and she’ll sleep for hours, so she won’t know anything is going on. This’ll turn out, you’ll see. If we give up now, we’ll lose. It’ll all have been for nothing. We have to get the whole gang, and get them good and proper. If, in doing so, we get that Lord Marley as well, then scandal or not, a good job will have been done.’
‘But at what sacrifice? At what sacrifice?’ Hattie could no longer stop her tears. Her body folded and she sank down onto the sofa nearest to her. Despair, fear and shame – yes, most of all shame – brought her low. Because wasn’t the outcome of all this going to be her own freedom? Freedom from Bobby Blackstaff? Freedom from her life on the streets, and most of all freedom from the likes of Sergeant Jackson taking her down! Oh God! What had she done?
Arthur sat down beside her. Relaxed in a seated position, he had the strength of a man with no handicap. This strength, and his gentleness as he took hold of her, gave her comfort. Her head sank onto his chest and she begged of him, ‘Help me. Oh, Arthur, help me!’
‘Come on, my dear.’ He rang the bell on the table next to him and Harry came into the room. ‘Take Hattie upstairs, Harry. Run her a bath and get her bed ready. She’s all in. Go on, dear, leave all this to me. Go on, trust me. I will sort it all out. Susan will be here before you know it. We’ll look after her. Leave it all to me.’
14
The Nightmare Returns
The room was veiled in darkness when Hattie woke. Disorientated, she searched her thoughts, knowing that something bad lay in them. As the shocking truth came back to her, she curled up into a ball, but wallowing in her own pity would do no good. She mentally shook herself. She had to take some action: take matters into her own hands. Reaching out, she felt for the matches on the bedside table. Finding them, she lit the gas mantle, and in its flicker she could see the clock. Half-past nine! It didn’t take her long to dress.
How was it that every stair creaked, when it never had done so before:
‘Is Susan settled down, Harry?’ Arthur’s voice drifted up from the drawing room. So Susan is here! She’s safe! Thank God.
‘Yes, sir. She is tucked up and asleep. She took some persuading to take the medicine the doctor left for her, and she’d not eat anything. I let her peep in on Hattie, and that settled her mind. Hattie’s still out for the count.’
Hattie turned and tiptoed back up the stairs. She hadn’t thought things through! Arthur was bound to look in on her, so she had to make it look as if she was snuggled up and fast asleep.
When she next peeped over the banister, Harry was crossing the hall. She hoped the mound arranged in her bed would fool Arthur. This time she was ready to attempt to get out unnoticed.
Relief settled in her when, taking a tray towards the kitchen, Harry didn’t stop to bolt the front door as he passed it. She felt a longing to confide in him, but would he help her? Or would he stop her and tell Arthur what she intended to do? If he did that then all would be lost. Arthur would never agree to her plan and so she just couldn’t take the chance. Her heart beat like a drum, and beads of sweat trickled off her forehead. But fear or no fear, she had to move quickly; it wouldn’t be long before Arthur came out of the drawing room to retire. He was likely to be drinking his nightcap at this very moment, so she had just seconds to get out of the door without being seen.
Once outside, she took a moment to catch her breath. Which way should she go? If Jackson’s lot were prowling around, they’d stop her if they spotted her. She had to get to Daisy. Daisy might know where Sally had been taken, but where was Daisy likely to be?
Making her mind up to go to Ma Parkin’s, where she might get information on the lassie’s whereabouts, Hattie sped across the park, keeping her route to the darkest ginnals. But as she came out of one ginnal to sprint across an opening to the next one, a hand grabbed her arm. Terror overrode the physical pain of the firm grip, but a familiar voice settled some of her fear. ‘Hello, Hattie. You’ve not been on your patch lately. I’ve missed you. What were you doing up the posh end, then? Had some good pickings, have yer?’
‘Kenny! God, you gave me a fright.’
‘Aye, and that’s not all I want to give you. I can’t believe me luck, coming across you like this. Come on, there’s no one over at my place – the missus has took the young ’uns to a show and won’t be back till late.’
‘I can’t, Kenny. I’ve to be somewhere.’
‘Don’t give me that. You know what I gave you last time you were hasty with me. Well, it’ll be a darn sight worse if you think as you’re not giving me owt at all. And I’ll tell you sommat else for nowt: I’d drag you to that pimp of yours afterwards and put a complaint in. Here, what’s happened to your hands?’
Kenny could cut up rough if he didn’t get what he wanted, so she knew he meant what he was saying. A man of means, he owned a pawnshop, and his business was in lending money to the poor and letting them have goods on tick. The tallyman, they called him. He put fear into everyone – in particular those who couldn’t pay their dues. She had to think of something to say to satisfy him, as she dared not take the time out to see to him. She decided on the truth. ‘Me fingers were broke by Bobby Blackstaff’s lot, and they burned me arms an’ all. Look, Kenny, I’ll tell the truth of it, then I’ll ask you to be helping me in what I have to do. But if your need is too much for you, I can send Daisy along to you.’
‘Hold on a mo. I don’t want to be mixed up in anything as Bobby Blackstaff’s got a hand in. I don’t mind paying for what he sells, but I want nothing to do with owt else. I’d rather make do with me missus and put up with her opening up under sufferance. But I’ll say this, Hattie: I’d not be letting you go, if it weren’t for the fact that I can tell as there’s sommat not right with all of this.’
‘Thanks, Kenny. I owe you one. We’ll do it for free next time you come looking, and it’ll be good, I promise you.’
‘Go on, get going, or you’ll h
ave me thinking on it so as I’d have you anyroad, and right now in the ginnal!’
Glad to hear amusement in his voice, Hattie turned and ran for all she was worth across the clearing and into the next ginnal. She hesitated at Ma Parkin’s, peeping through the window just to make sure there were no police in there. It was empty. Lifting the latch with difficulty, she nipped in as quick as she could and faced a startled Ma Parkin. ‘Eeh, Hattie, you gave me a fright! Where’d you come from? I didn’t see you pass me window.’
‘Sorry, Ma. Is there anyone in your back room?’
‘Aye, Daisy’s in there, but she isn’t with a client. Though she might be waiting for one. She didn’t say.’
Daisy! She couldn’t believe her luck. ‘I’ll have a brew, Ma, and I’ll take it through and have it with Daisy, ta.’
‘Naw, I’ll bring it into you. It’s quiet the night. Don’t know where everyone is. Mind, there’s been a few strangers milling around of late. Some reckon as they’re police in plain clothes, so everyone’s keeping a bit low.’
This news was unwelcome. If folk were talking about the strangers being police, then Bobby Blackstaff’s lot would know of them as well. But Daisy’s welcome put this worry out of her mind for a moment. ‘Hattie! Where’ve you been? Oh, Hattie, are you all right? Your poor hands . . .’
‘I’m reet, love. The pain isn’t nowt as I can’t bear. Arthur got his doctor to look at me and he’s put some splints on me fingers and some soothing stuff on me arms. Mind, you’re going to have to help me with me tea.’
‘Oh, love.’
‘Don’t be at giving me sympathy. It’ll get me started, and I’ve a lot more on me plate than what’s happened to me hands. Have you seen owt of Doreen?’
‘Aye, but not as much as usual, and not back at the house. I saw her go into the corner shop a while back. When she came out she had a big brown bag full to the top. I were curious, so I followed her, and she went into an end terrace house up Gollan Street. I waited a bit and she came out again and went into the one next door. What d’yer reckon she’s up to?’
‘Daisy, love, I know what she’s up to, and I need your help. Are you on with waiting for a client?’
‘Aye, but he hasn’t showed. He were a new chap as has been hanging around a bit. Talk is as they’re police, but . . .’
‘They are police, Daisy. Look . . .’ After she’d finished telling Daisy everything, Daisy’s face reflected all that Hattie felt. She sought to give her comfort. ‘Aye, I know, love. Brings back pain we suffered, don’t it? I’m on with having it stopped, only I don’t trust Jackson. The thing is, though, I do have on me side the fact as he’s scared of Arthur’s standing, and what could happen to him if he is caught at being in league with Blackstaff, which we all know he is. So that gives me some clout. If I can get into the house, he’ll have to shift himself and do sommat. He’ll know he has no choice. I just hope I’m in time.’
‘But, Hattie—’
‘No “buts”. I have to do this. Will you help me, Daisy?’
‘What would I need to do?’
Hattie could see Daisy was scared out of her wits, but the question hadn’t been asked as if she would make up her mind after hearing the answer. Daisy was with her, no matter what.
‘That’s them – the two on the corner. But how do we know which house young ’un’s in?’
They were in the ginnal just across the road from the houses Daisy had seen Doreen going into earlier. Hattie weighed up the possibilities. ‘I’m going to make a guess at it being the end one that Sally’s kept in. It’d be the best bet, I’d say, as any noise wouldn’t matter. There’s no neighbours the other side to hear owt, and it looks like Blackstaff owns the house on this side an’ all, if Doreen went into it.’
‘I’m scared, Hattie.’
‘Aye, I am an’ all. But let’s do it afore thinking about consequences puts us off, eh? Now, as soon as the door opens, you run like blazes. Get to Arthur’s as fast as you can. You’re sure, now, that you know how to get there and which house it is?’
‘Aye, I does. Oh, Hattie . . .’
‘No more now, love. I’m sorry to put this on you, but we best get on with it.’
They hugged each other as best they could with Hattie’s arms in the state they were. Daisy kissed her cheek. ‘Be careful, love.’
Hattie crossed the road. No one challenged her. But then another thought occurred to her: was this the right house? What if these houses were just some that Blackstaff owned but didn’t use for the purpose of sex with young ’uns? Well, she was here now. With a determined attitude, she kicked the door hard several times. The noise she created increased her fear, but there was no going back . . . Doreen opened the door. ‘Who is it? And what d’yer want?’
Outrage overtook Hattie’s dread, making her want to claw Doreen to pieces. ‘Where’s Sally, you bitch?’
‘Hattie! Ha, it’s Hattie. Bloody hell, you’ve got some clout, lass, I’ll say that for you . . . Hey!’
Doreen reeled back. Hattie felt no pain in her hand from the blow she’d landed on Doreen’s face. It was as if the rage burning in her had taken her out of her own body. ‘Tell me where Sally is, you bastard!’ She stepped into the house. She lingered for just a second to take in the sumptuousness of it, before she lifted her arm again. Doreen cowered. ‘You idiot, Hattie! For God’s sake, what’re you thinking? Wally and Doug are next door!’
‘I don’t care. Just tell me where Sally is. Come on, Doreen, if there’s a shred of decency left in you, you’d tell me. Where is she?’
‘Don’t come near me – I’ll scream! Let me get out. Let me get out of it, please, Hattie. I promise you, I couldn’t help owt as I’ve done . . .’
‘Then do the decent thing now, and help me. I can’t do much with these hands, but there’s nothing wrong with me feet, and by God, Doreen, I’d think nothing of kicking the life out of you.’
‘She’s next door. That Lord Marley’s with her.’
‘WHAT!’
‘No – Hattie, I told you. Wally and Doug are there. They’re downstairs keeping guard . . .’
‘Oh God! How could you?’ Hattie pulled her arm free from Doreen’s grasp and hit out with all her might, ignoring the pain searing through her arm. Doreen landed on the floor. Looking down at her, Hattie hesitated, wanting to grind her foot into the hateful face. ‘You vile scum!’ Her foot lifted, but the urgent need to get to Sally took over. Tearing out of the house, she reached the one next to it in seconds. The force of her kick at the door trembled through her. It opened and Wally stood there, a look of astonishment on his face. Recovering from his shock, he shoved her backwards. ‘What’s your game? What yer doing here?’
The railing separating the pavement from the road broke her fall. Rebounding off it and using the leverage it afforded her, she lifted her foot and kicked him in the crotch. Wally doubled over, his strangled cries telling of the pain she’d inflicted.
Inside the hall, the stairs loomed ahead of her. Her body seemed to fly, not run, up the steep flight. At the top, three closed doors gave her a moment’s dilemma. The agonizing sound of a distressed child calling for her mam came from one of them. It was as though the sound created a power in Hattie: she barged into the door, and it gave way as if it were no more than a curtain. Time suspended, then rolled back into the past as the scene playing out before her unleashed years of pent-up hatred for the man who stood there, stopped in the act of putting himself away. Her body grew as if it wasn’t her own. She threw herself at him. He crashed backwards over the bedstead. As she stared down at the source of her wasted, rotten life, a rage boiled up inside her giving her a strength she never knew she possessed.
Hattie’s vicious kick found its mark. ‘You bastard! You bastard!’ Each time the words spat from her she kicked out at him. Unable to right himself or shield his manhood from her, Lord Marley hollered for mercy. Tears ran down his bloated face. Spittle foamed at his mouth, but she didn’t stop; not until Sally’s screams c
rushed her fury and replaced it with heart-rending anguish. ‘Sally, Sally . . . Oh, Sally love, I’m here. No one’ll ever hurt you again. Sally, come on, my love.’
Sally’s staring eyes held unspeakable horror. Oh God, how can I help her? How can I put this right? They rocked back and forth together, the child’s hurt and sadness torturing Hattie.
Over the sounds of their weeping, the door clicked open. Doug’s huge body filled the frame, but Hattie had no fear where he was concerned. He couldn’t inflict anything on her that would give her more pain than she was already in. ‘It’s over, Doug. Get out while you can. You know about Arthur, don’t you? Well, he knows where I am. Sergeant Jackson can’t save you, so I’d take me chance, if I were you, and scarper. You might get lucky.’
Doug opened his mouth, then shut it again. His moment of uncertainty lasted a moment too long: Bobby Blackstaff stood behind him with a look that Hattie recognized, his face curled into an ugly mask. His voice held the menace she dreaded. ‘He’s going nowhere. And the police will do nowt. I’ve the lot of them in my hands, as you well know, having been part of the payment, you fucking whore!’
He shoved Wally out of the way, stepped round the still-moaning Lord Marley, and was beside the bed in a flash. His eyes held cold evil. As he lifted both hands in the air, the knife he held glinted as the gas light flickered over it. Hattie pulled Sally closer, trying to shield her. The moment froze. No scream came from her, no begging for mercy. Only a fear for Sally . . . As if in a nightmare, she saw his outline as a gigantic shadow on the wall, depicting his movements. The knife came down towards her. She cowered forwards. A thud resounded through her body, but no pain came with it. Has the knife missed me?
A vicious shout assailed her ears, bringing into focus a searing, ripping pain in her shoulder. She looked up. The bloodied knife soared above her once more. She couldn’t move. She saw it coming towards her, but her mind couldn’t decipher what happened, as Bobby fell forward and the knife flew through the air. He lay silent and still across the bottom of the bed. Looking to her left, she saw that Lord Marley had hold of his legs. He had saved her. Lord Marley had saved her life!