Shadows of the Lost Child

by Ellie Stevenson

  ‘What did you say?’ said Ben sharply. He’d dropped the hammer and picked up a mug but now he put the mug on the bench. And stared at Miranda.

  ‘You told me about the goods you sell. But Tom said some of the goods have gone missing, been stolen, apparently. Isn’t that right?’

  ‘Yes, as it happens, but I don’t see why I should answer your questions.’

  ‘That’s the wrong answer,’ Miranda told him, coming up closer and shaking her head. ‘You should have denied that things had gone missing, or told me the truth for once, Ben Tencell.’

  ‘There’s no such thing as the truth,’ said Ben, ‘it’s all about your point of view. Do want this tea I’ve made, or not?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Miranda, trying to grab it, but Ben swung the mug right out of her reach. Most of the tea went over the floor.

  ‘Damn you, Ben Tencell, why won’t you give me a straight answer?’

  ‘I will if you tell me why you’re asking. And if I think that’s good enough.’

  Miranda frowned and gave him a look. ‘Scotty and Carol are moving away. We don’t know where they got the money. All I know is it happened suddenly, very suddenly, for a bloke like Scotty. That man’s been here since the start of time.’

  ‘Really?’ said Ben, moving in closer. ‘For that I think you deserve a kiss.’ He grabbed her quickly and kissed her lightly, then a bit harder. She pushed him away.

  ‘You told me once I was far too young.’

  ‘Well, maybe you’re a bit older now. And I’ve missed you, though only a little.’

  ‘Ha!’ said Miranda, stepping well back. ‘I’ve told you my reason for wanting to know. It’s time you kept your part of the bargain.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Ben, ‘I’m a man of my word. I sell the goods to a bloke out of town. Certainly not to Scotty Islip, or to his wife. But that doesn’t mean they didn’t take them. You’re right that some of the stock has been stolen.’

  ‘Well, I can’t see it, Miranda said, thinking. Following me down the tunnel to the crypt doesn’t seem much like Carol Islip. And Scotty would be far too drunk to manage it. I’m sure I’d have heard him.’

  ‘Maybe they had a go-between.’

  She didn’t tell Tom she’d been to see Ben. He wouldn’t want to know her suspicions, that Carol and Scotty had sold on the goods. No-one wants to think badly of family. But it fitted alright, Miranda, thought. And went with Carol deceiving her husband. ‘A rum sort of woman,’ Miranda said, scrubbing the counter as hard as she could. She was only eighteen.

  ‘I presume you’re talking about Carol,’ said Hannah. She was cleaning out ashtrays, a thankless task.

  ‘They were married, Ma,’ Miranda said. She twisted a wet rag around in her hands.

  ‘You try marrying Scotty Islip and see if you like it.’ Hannah paused, briefly. ‘Matt was her life and he wasn’t married so she wasn’t breaking anyone’s heart. It’s not as if Scotty had a heart to break.’

  ‘Carol still betrayed him, and that’s what matters, even if the bloke is a man like Scotty.’ And you don’t know about the thefts, Mother dear. Carol’s not exactly whiter than white.

  Hannah reached up and wiped the mirror clean with her cloth. ‘I know you’re only young, Miranda, but Carol’s had a terrible life. Scotty gets angry and violent when drunk, but it’s more than that, and almost worse. If I tell you something, will you keep it to yourself?’

  ‘Of course I will,’ Miranda said, wondering if she really meant it. What if she needed to tell Ben or Thomas? What the hell, she’d wait and see. She perched on the arm of the nearest chair.

  ‘Go on, Ma, I’m ready and waiting.’

  ‘Less of your lip,’ her mother laughed. ‘And open that door, it’s boiling in here. But only a bit.’

  Miranda got up and opened the door that led to the passage. She looked up and down to check it was clear. It was quiet at last, for the first time that evening. Then she left the tiniest gap for air. Miranda smiled at her mother, invitingly. Her ma looked nervous.

  ‘Years ago, when you were younger, Carol had a child with Matt McCarthy. Scotty doesn’t know, I helped keep it secret, took her away until the child was born. And now Carol’s leaving and that means leaving the child as well, who also lives around these parts. Or so I believe.’

  ‘She gave a child of her own away, a child like Thomas? I can’t believe it.’

  ‘She had to, Miranda, because of Scotty. He’d have beaten her, half-killed her maybe, if he’d found out the truth.’

  ‘So why not leave him and move in with Matt?’

  ‘That’s what I told her, but Carol said no. She loved Matt much more than Scotty, but Scotty was her husband and she had Thomas, he was only a baby, not even two. Scotty would never have allowed him to leave.’

  ‘Why didn’t she pass the child off as his?’

  ‘I told her that too, but Scotty and Matt – they looked so different, Matt was fair, if you remember. She was scared the child would grow up like him and Scotty would guess and separate them. She really needed to keep seeing Matt.’

  ‘The selfish cow,’ Miranda said. ‘Nobody thought what the child might need.’

  ‘I did,’ said Hannah, smiling at her daughter. ‘Carol was walking a very fine tightrope and both of us knew it. She couldn’t have done it alone, you know. People always gossip in places like this. Even now, I think they all know.’

  ‘So how did you do it? What did you do?’

  ‘They thought it was mine, the child, I mean. I told them all, including your da, we were going away for better air. You won’t remember, being so young.’

  ‘And Da believed it, thought you’d given his child to strangers?’

  ‘No, silly girl, we told your da, and everyone else, the child had died. Carol came with me to help my spirits. I was fragile, you know, when I was younger, I had a weak chest, and often caught colds.’

  ‘Did you, really?’ Miranda said. Her ma didn’t strike her as fragile now.

  ‘It must have been the smoking, I think.’ Her mother laughed. ‘We gave the baby to somebody local, a woman I knew, poor of course, but she seemed good hearted, I knew the couple would be kind to the child. We gave them money as well, of course, as much as we could.’

  Miranda shivered. ‘Of course you did. Do you think we could close the door now, Ma?’ Her mother nodded. Miranda went on.

  ‘So the child was settled with a new family?’

  ‘That was the plan, but the da ran off, or so I was told, and the mother died, unfortunately, and then the child just disappeared. I’d lost track, with your father dying, and Carol never wanted to know. I think she felt guilty.’ Miranda frowned.

  ‘So Carol’s child is out there somewhere, without any parents and maybe a home. That’s brilliant, I must say. Well done, Ma.’

  ‘We don’t know that for sure, Miranda.’

  ‘I think you do, if you’re honest, Ma. I’d like to think that the kid is alive and well and happy, and also well-fed, but I very much doubt it, from what you’ve just said.’ She heard a door slam.

  ‘What was that?’ said Hannah sharply, both of them hurrying to the door. Miranda peered out, into the corridor. Someone had left the pub quickly. The door to the yard was closed, she could see that, but she went outside to the yard, just to check. Someone had been there, she knew that at once, the door to the street was wide open.

  Miranda stood still, her heart racing, her thoughts buzzing. Someone had been there, that was for sure, in the passage and outside their door. Probably hearing Carol’s story, although how much they’d heard was anyone’s guess. Miranda sighed. She ought to have known, from the last time it happened.

  She hugged herself to keep herself warm and went back inside to find her ma. What would her mother say when she knew? It was bad enough with Matt McCarthy but now the stakes were even higher. A secret child who could be anywhere.

  Chapter 88

  Now – Cressida

  Cressida and Martha were sitting in
a coffee shop. It was Narrowboat Lane’s best offering, huge glass windows filled with cakes and pink linen tablecloths. Cressida and Martha didn’t notice.

  ‘So, Alice is talking now, you said? Well, that’s great news.’

  ‘But I almost wish she wasn’t, sometimes. Isn’t that awful? I feel so guilty.’

  ‘Because of what she thinks you did? There’s no need, Cressida, I don’t blame you, you know I don’t. Even if you did leave the latch off.’ Martha paused. ‘Naturally, you were thinking about Alice, she was the one we were worried about.’ She sipped her tea, her favourite, chamomile.

  ‘If only Alice had gone to Annerley’s…’

  ‘So now we’re blaming Alice instead? No, Cressida, blaming each other gets us nowhere. I want to focus on who’s responsible, Aleph Jones. He was the one who killed a child.’ Martha took out a cigarette. ‘Or maybe I should blame myself? I was his mother, I shouldn’t have left him alone in the garden.’ Martha’s face darkened. Cressida frowned.

  ‘You know you can’t smoke in here, Martha. Put it away, until later, please.’ She looked around the café quickly, but the mostly Italian staff hadn’t noticed. ‘I can’t go on with this anymore, the Aleph Jones thing. ‘I think it’s time we stopped it for good.’

  ‘Because Alice is speaking again? Or because you feel grateful and think that you owe him? You think he’s done you some sort of favour?’ Martha leant back in her chair and smiled.

  ‘No, you’re wrong, you don’t understand.’ Cressida’s voice was low but urgent. ‘I just think we should call it a day. For everyone’s sake, yours especially.’

  ‘I thought you meant what you said, Cressida.’ Martha’s voice grew loud and angry. Cressida looked around in alarm. The café was becoming increasingly busier and people were starting to look their way. ‘You said you’d stay until he knew the truth. He’s still in blissful ignorance, isn’t he? Unless there’s something you haven’t told me.

  ‘He’s got all the cards together in a box. He can find out the truth whenever he wants.’

  ‘But he’s not going to read them, according to you. You told me he threw that last one away.’ Martha bent down and picked up her bag.

  ‘He took it out later, and put it away. He’ll read them eventually, just give him time.’

  ‘But I don’t have time, we’re leaving the area.’ Martha dumped some change on the table. ‘And as you know, there’s a new baby coming. I hope he has more time than Daniel. I want Aleph Jones to know the truth.’

  ‘You want him to suffer, that’s what you mean. But I think he has, and more than enough. I won’t be a part of this anymore.’ Cressida rose and made for the door, but stopped, abruptly and turned around.

  ‘If you want Aleph to know the truth, then I suggest you tell him yourself.’

  Chapter 89

  Then – Miranda

  The sun shone brightly on Dogleg Lane and the Keepsake Arms, but not for Miranda, she was feeling fed up, as well as bitter at having to work in the pub, yet again. On her one day off.

  I need to get a different life, she said to herself, as she thought about Ben. Thinking about Ben made her feel better, despite him being a bit of a crook. Her ma walked in and Miranda smiled.

  Knowing the truth about Carol Islip had made such a difference, knowing the things her ma had done, to help her friend. Even if her ma had made mistakes, at least she’d tried, and that made a difference, a big difference. Miranda felt proud. She polished the mirror a little harder.

  ‘I wiped that mirror the other day, it’s a waste of time you doing it again. Especially when there are glasses to stack.’ Hannah Collenge frowned at her daughter. ‘We’ve got a few in, regulars mostly, even though it’s still quite early.’ She peered at Miranda. ‘You look tired.’

  It’s hardly surprising, Ma, thought Miranda. Keeping secrets was tiring work. She hadn’t told Hannah that someone had heard them talking last night. That someone might know about Carol and the child. Please don’t let it be Scotty, she thought.

  Thinking about it, she doubted it was. He’d be far too drunk to stand still and listen, it was probably a woman, or maybe a child. But it had been late. Then a thought struck her.

  She turned around and stared at the wall and the shelf on it. The boot was still there. She reached up and took it down, then looked at her mother.

  ‘This wasn’t one of McCarthy’s shoes, was it, Ma?’ Her mother went pale. She looked around.

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘it wasn’t Matt’s, it belonged to the girl, Carol’s child, the one she gave up.’

  ‘So it was a girl,’ Miranda said. ‘I wondered if I was right about that. Because, if she’d had another boy, well she had Tom already, but being a girl, she couldn’t forget.’

  ‘She wouldn’t have forgotten whatever it was. Every child is different, Miranda.’

  ‘But I still thought it was a girl,’ said Miranda. ‘Yet the boot’s not the boot of a little girl.’

  ‘No,’ said her mother,’ looking embarrassed. ‘I only went to where she lived twice. I waited until the family were out, then crept inside and took the boots. I know it was wrong, but Carol wanted some sort of keepsake. A pair of boots was the best I could do.’

  ‘So where exactly did they live?’

  ‘It was only a room, shabby and dark, it made our place look like a palace. I felt really awful.’

  ‘But where was it?’

  ‘I’m sorry Miranda, I can’t tell you that. I shouldn’t have told you anything at all. But the girl doesn’t live in that place anymore, or so I believe. So it hardly matters where she lived once.’

  ‘You took the boots and brought them here?’

  ‘I put one in the wardrobe and one on the shelf, so Carol could see it, each time she came in. She didn’t dare keep them at home with Scotty, she’d have had no reason to have such a thing.’ She paused, looked sad.

  ‘I’ve no idea where the other one went. It wasn’t in my carpet bag, the last time I looked.’

  It’s in a trunk, Miranda thought, or maybe it’s now on Percy’s shelf. Or, much more likely, in the bin. She looked at her ma and frowned, thinking.

  ‘You said the room was really grim, that means they were poor, very poor. But you stole a pair of boots from the girl, maybe the only boots she had. How could you do that, even for Carol?’

  ‘I replaced the girl’s boots with a brand new pair, that’s why I went back to the room again. I took the replacements from Matt’s stock.’

  And so the theft of the shoes was born.

  ‘You shouldn’t have done it, Ma,’ said Miranda. ‘They would have noticed the boots were different.’

  ‘So what if they were, they were still brand new. They were much better made than the ones I’d taken.’

  ‘But Ma, for God’s sake, don’t you see? Her parents would probably have sold those boots and spent the money on drink, most likely. That’s what a lot of the families do, around here, anyway. You should have known that.’

  ‘I only wanted to help Carol.’

  ‘By doing her daughter out of boots.’ Miranda dropped the boot on a stool. She could hardly bear to look at it now.

  Miranda was finding it hard to settle, her mind was reeling with revelations. Reg and Cath weren’t working for once, which was why she was here, in the middle of the day; the pub was quiet which made it seem pointless. Until Ben turned up around half past one.

  ‘Well what a surprise,’ Miranda told him. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve come to see me?’

  ‘I have in a way.’ He looked embarrassed. ‘How does a man get a pint around here?’

  ‘Try asking,’ she said, ‘it often works.’ She quickly drew him a pint of ale.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about the other business.’ Ben gave her a look, while knocking back ale. ‘My, that’s a good pint.’

  ‘We aim to please in the Keepsake Arms. The other business, literally?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Ben. ‘I’ve been thinking it’s time I gav
e it up.’

  ‘Really?’ she said, not daring to hope. She doubted he’d mean it this time tomorrow. ‘So what have you got up your sleeve instead?’

  ‘Not a lot, that’s the trouble. I knew it was wrong, but the profits were far too good to refuse. But when the stock started going missing, I realised that this was a wake up call. And then we moved the goods from the church, but I’m still concerned that someone might talk. Not that I’ve said as much to Wetherby, I don’t think he would want me to quit.’

  ‘Of course he wouldn’t,’ Miranda said. ‘He likes to have someone to share the risk. The vicar’s not going to do that for him. Especially now the church isn’t used.’ She leant across the bar towards him. ‘You know you’re making the right decision.’ She gave his arm a friendly squeeze.

  ‘Squeeze me again and I’ll know for sure.’

  ‘Maybe, later,’ Miranda told him. ‘I ought to thank you properly for this. But now I’ve got to work, more’s the pity.’ She turned away, to serve a pint. but also to hide a beaming smile. The day was getting better at last.

  By early evening, Miranda was shattered.

  ‘I think you’d better skip tonight,’ her mother insisted when she came down later. ‘Thomas and Steve and I can manage. You look as if you could do with the rest.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Miranda, ‘I’m not going to argue, especially as I’m on earlies tomorrow. But I need to have a word with Thomas. Alone, if I may.’ Her mother nodded and left the room. She heard her walking towards the bar. Thank God, for once, she hadn’t asked why.

  ‘Tom,’ she said, ‘I’ve something to give you.’ She felt in her pocket and brought out the beads. ‘This should be yours, it belonged to Louise.’

  Tom blinked and stared at the necklace. ‘This is the one she said she’d give me. Where did you get it? How did you get it?’

  ‘Never you mind, it’s not important. All I know is, she needed the money for going away and sold the necklace, to buy some new clothes. Now I’ve got it, and it’s yours to keep. I know she meant you to have it, Tom.’

  Tom took the necklace and stared at the beads, his dark eyes glowing, his face a big grin. ‘Yes, this is hers, I can’t believe it. So, do you know where Louise is now?’