by Joanna Larum
“So, I asked again the only question to which I wanted the answer.”
“‘Why did you kill my son? He hadn’t done anything to you. If you wanted a life in exchange for the life you had lost, why didn’t you just kill William? I don’t think any of us would blame you for wanting William dead, but why my baby?’”
“My voice was rising as I spoke and I knew I was losing control, something I had to fight against because I needed my wits about me to finish off the pig butcher. But Dennison decided to answer me, so it gave me time to force my emotions under control again.”
“The pig butcher glared at me as though I had interrupted him. His hand tightened round the end of the cord which encircled William’s neck and I thought he was going to strangle him rather than answer me, but he did decide to speak again.”
“‘ I had been looking for your husband since Davy had informed me how my boy died, then I saw him coming out of the Red Lion, with his son in tow. It was a disgrace that he could flaunt his son in front of me when he had taken away my only child, so I decided to entice him down here to the warehouses, away from any witnesses, and show your husband just what it is like to lose your son. I told him that I had just come back from my warehouse and I had seen someone trying to break into yours, so I was looking for some help to catch the burglar. He fell for it, even though he must have known that Davy would have told me the truth about how Albert died, he still was stupid enough to come with me to an out-of-the-way place like this. Or perhaps he thought he was going to be a hero again and catch the burglar himself. Whatever his reasons, he came with me like an excited child going on a summer trip with his friends. Your little boy didn’t want to come with us. He kept on crying for his mummy, but your devoted husband didn’t seem to care. He was so intent on catching burglars to prove to you what a clever, brave man that he was, he didn’t take any notice of his child crying.’”
“The pig butcher paused for breath again and to gather his thoughts, to tell us what happened next. I couldn’t believe that William could ignore Simon when he was upset, instead of doing his best to comfort him, but before I could tax him with it the pig butcher spoke again.”
“‘I wanted to show your husband what it is like to lose a child, but even before I had touched him, I was beginning to think that Drinkwater wouldn’t react as other men would do. I did it quick, so the little lad didn’t suffer, because my lad didn’t suffer in that crater. He was dead the minute the bullet went into his back and your boy was dead just as quickly. I broke his little neck for him, so that he wouldn’t suffer any pain. But your beloved husband didn’t suffer any pain, either. It didn’t touch him that his son was dead. I could see in his face that he was grateful I had chosen to kill the child and not him. He thought I had used up all my anger and that he would be safe and that was the extent of the pain he was feeling. I couldn’t believe that a man could watch his child die and still be trying to work out a means of escape for himself.’”
“We all stared at William as though he was the devil incarnate, but William was again staring at the floor. I couldn’t believe that the man I had lived with for so long, who was the father of my child, could put his own safety above that of his son. I was so angry with William, so enraged and so furious that all I wanted to do was to hurt him as much as I could. The thought of the knife in my cold store surfaced in my mind again and I was just about to throw all caution to the winds and run to fetch it when Dennison spoke again.”
“‘When I realised how deep his selfishness ran, I realised that killing your boy wasn’t the punishment that that bastard deserves. His punishment can only be his own death and I’m going to deal out that punishment now.’”
“There was silence after Dennison’s last remark, a silence which seemed to hang in the air around us and stopped anyone moving. Sam, Peter and I just stood and stared at William, Dennison was staring at the wall, as though he could see a picture of his son hanging there and William, well William was squirming on the floor, as much as he could when his one arm was tied to the arm of the prone chair. In the silence, we all noticed another sound, like thunder in the distance on a heavy summer day. It seemed very strange to me that after the gales and the snow and the cold, we should now be treated to another aspect of nature’s fury. I wondered if I could use the noise of the thunder, when it got closer, to mask any sound I might make when I attempted to retrieve the knife from the cold store. I packed the thought away into a corner of my mind and concentrated again on what the pig butcher had told us about his son’s death.”
“I could understand his anger that his boy had been used as a human shield to save the life of just one person, a person whose moral conduct was questionable, to say the least. I could also understand that he was incensed that this usage had been taken rather than given willingly as a sacrifice for the good of the greatest number. I could even understand that he wanted revenge on the person who had brought about the death of his son, but I couldn’t understand why he had chosen to kill my baby as a means to punishing William. That he had now decided that the only way he could get revenge would be to kill the man who had killed his son, I heartily concurred with. I had no desire to save the life of my husband when he had happily watched my son die, expecting that this would save his own miserable skin. The fact that he cared more about himself than he did about his own son put him beyond any redemption. I wouldn’t lift a finger to save his miserable life.”
“All these thoughts travelled through my mind in less time than it takes to sneeze. What I needed to concentrate on was to get Sammy and Peter out of the warehouse and away from the pig butcher. There was no way I was going to allow either of them to pay for William’s egotistical and selfish acts. What finally happened to me was of no consequence because the worst had, for me, already happened. Once I had realised that Simon was dead, I had no reason to survive, but I still had to fight for Sam and Peter. I needed to get them both out of the warehouse away from Dennison, so that they were safe. Then the pig butcher could murder William, I could kill Dennison and then lie down and die next to my son. It was crystal clear to me, so I was puzzled and concerned when Sammy spoke and I realised that he was trying to distract Dennison to give us time to save William.”
“‘Is it true, William?’ Sam asked. ‘Did you save your own miserable skin by forcing Dennison’s lad to take the bullet meant for you?’”
“William raised his head from the floor and the look he gave Sam had so much hatred in it I was shocked to the core. I had known from the day William came back from the Front that he disliked Sam, but I had never realised how deep the loathing that he had for Sam was. I knew that it was based on jealousy, because Sam and I got on extremely well and William didn’t like that, but the depth of his revulsion for Sam astonished me.”
“‘I suppose you would have flung yourself in front of everyone in that shell crater and saved all their lives by losing yours.’ William almost spat at him. ‘You, Mr Perfect Father, Mr Perfect Worker, Mr Perfect at everything, you would have died a hero and everybody would have loved you for ever for it. Well, I’m no hero and I’m not going to die to save anyone else’s life.’”
“Sam’s face was full of disgust at William’s words. I think he thought more of the pig butcher at that moment than he did of William because the pig butcher had put at least one person before himself, whereas William was totally self-absorbed. It was obvious to me that Sammy was having a great deal of trouble trying to justify to himself why he should attempt to save William from Dennison. I really believe that if Peter and I hadn’t existed, Sam would have walked away and let Dennison do whatever he wanted to do to William, with his blessing. Unfortunately, Sam thought that he had to try and save William for my sake and I needed to quickly disabuse him of this notion, before he got himself killed for the sake of that miserable excuse for a man who was squirming on the floor, still trying to wriggle his way out of the situation. Raising my voice so that I could be heard over the deep rumble of the thunder which
seemed to be coming nearer to us, I spoke quickly to stop Sam taking any risks and trying to kill the pig butcher.”
“‘Go to Hell, William, where you belong.’ I snarled. ‘If you could stand and watch my baby die and still only think of yourself, then you don’t deserve to live. I wash my hands of you. I only want to look after Simon now; I don’t care what happens to you. If you don’t mind, Mr Dennison, I’m going to get a blanket to wrap round my little boy before he gets cold, lying on the floor like that.’”
“I was half-way across the floor to the cold store before the pig butcher spoke.”
“‘Before he gets cold!’ he sneered. ‘You silly bitch, he’s dead, he’s not feeling anything now, never mind the cold! He’ll never be warm again. Ask your husband. He heard his neck snap, didn’t you?’”
“‘He’s no husband of mine.’ I replied, before William had a chance to answer. I needed to get the message across to Sam, so that he didn’t attempt to save William’s life before I could put my plan into action. And I did have a plan. Despite everything that had happened that day, my mind was now working as sharply as it had ever done and the plan had slipped into it without me even trying to think about it. I was amazed that I was capable of thinking so clearly in such a desperate situation, but I think it was because the worst thing that could have happened to me had already happened. Compared to losing my child, everything else paled into insignificance and I could no longer feel any fear. I was determined that the pig butcher was going to pay for killing my son and that determination made me a fearless adversary.”
“I could see by his face that Sam had understood what I was trying to tell him. He was no longer poised as though ready to pounce on Dennison at any time and I breathed a sigh of relief at his quick comprehension. I felt that it was going to be possible to carry out my plan and, I must admit, I relaxed somewhat at that thought. The relief I felt was rather short-lived, however, because Peter chose that moment to finally catch up with all that had happened and let out an almost animal-like cry of pain. We all froze at the sound, at the atavistic keening that emanated from his wide-open mouth which even jerked William out of his self-absorption.”
“‘You’ve killed Simon!’ he wailed. ‘You’ve killed my friend! I’m going to kill you!’”
“‘NO, Peter!’”
“It was the first time that I had ever heard Sam raise his voice and it pulled me up short. Sam had grabbed Peter by both arms, struggling to keep hold of him and prevent him from launching himself at Dennison with murder in his heart. Sam was as concerned as I was that Peter shouldn’t suffer for what had happened that night and was struggling to keep him away from Dennison. As I glanced around, I realised that William and the pig butcher were both staring at Peter and Sam, so no eyes were on me. The thunder, which had been growling in the background since I had first noticed it, now peeled so loudly over our heads that I thought I could almost feel the ground bucking with its power. Even above this tremendous noise, I could still hear Peter bellowing aloud his hatred and frustration. What I did at that moment was going to pass unremarked by anyone else in the warehouse.”
“I knew that I had to move before Sammy’s strength ran out and Peter got his freedom, so I threw myself at the cold store door and I was inside and had grabbed a piece of sacking and my butchery knife and was back in the main body of the warehouse before anyone knew I had gone. By the time Peter’s screams had reduced to sobs, I was on my knees next to Simon’s body, wrapping him up in the sacking, all the while keeping the knife concealed in its folds, waiting for the right moment to strike.
“‘Keep the moron under control, or I swear I’ll do for him like I’ve done for the other one.’ Dennison hissed at Sam and my skin crawled at the wickedness of the man who could think of Peter in those terms.”
“‘Lay off him, Dennison.’ Sammy growled. He was obviously as disgusted as I was at the butcher’s description of Peter, but he was also as concerned as I was about what Peter might do. Peter was a smoking cannon, likely to go off at any moment and I needed to get him away from the warehouse as soon as possible.”
I finished tucking the sacking around Simon’s little body, my heart contracting as I touched his soft skin and brushed the cheek which would never again dimple at me as he smiled. My courage nearly failed me then. I wanted nothing more than to lie down next to him and never rise again, but I had to save Peter and Sam before I could have my heart’s desire. I risked a glance at the group of four men gathered in the warehouse, noting that Dennison was on his feet, towering over William’s supine body and Peter and Sam were about three feet away from the pig butcher, both facing him. The butcher turned to me at that point.”
“‘Finished wrapping up the baby?’ he asked, sneeringly. ‘Leave him there and get yourself over here with these two, where I can keep an eye on you.’”
“I acquiesced immediately, but took the butchery knife with me, holding it pointing downwards, hidden in a fold of my skirt. I made sure that I took my place to the right of Sam and Peter, with plenty of room for my right arm to be able to raise the knife to plunge it into the pig butcher’s chest. The thunder rumbled over us again as I took my place, although this time it seemed quieter than before and I fleetingly wondered if the storm was passing over us, which wasn’t at all what I wanted to happen. I had hoped to be able to use the cover of the thunderclaps to carry out my plan and if the storm passed us by, I would have to formulate another plan. But, before I could begin trying to produce a new strategy, William decided to try and manipulate the odds stacked against him.”
“‘Peter.’ He gasped out, struggling to speak over the cord which was constricting his airway. ‘Peter, come and help me, son, please. Get the cord off that bastard and release me. I’ll pay you for it. I’ll buy you anything you want, but hit that bugger and release me. Aagh!’”
“His words were cut short as Dennison yanked on the cord again, constricting his airway even further so that William gasped for breath and turned a horrible shade of purple in the lamplight. But Peter answered him as though they were having a conversation in the kitchen at the shop.”
“‘I won’t help you, Mr Drinkwater. That man said you watched him kill Simon and you didn’t do anything to stop him, so I won’t do anything to stop him, either. If he wants to strangle you he can. I don’t care.’”
“Dennison laughed out loud at this, his mouth wide open and the red light of madness once again visible in his eyes.”
“‘Did you hear that, armless? He doesn’t think you are worth saving and he’s right. He has enough brains to work that much out, the moron, and he’s capable of speaking out. He’s going to have to die, along with the rest of you. I’m not risking my neck, pretending that he’s too stupid to be able to understand what’s happening. But, you first, Drinkwater. I’ve kept you waiting long enough now, I reckon. You’ve had time to feel the fear of death. It’s time now for you to go and meet my lad face-to-face again and explain to him why you were too important to die in France. Go and give him your excuses.’”
Nana Lymer paused for a moment to give herself time to recover from the overpowering feeling of despair and helplessness that engulfed her as she recalled that night. Victoria was just about to put out her hand to grasp the arm of the older woman, to show sympathy and understanding when Nana began to speak again.
“The butcher hoisted William, and the chair he was tied to, bodily off the floor, wrapped his huge red hands around his neck and squeezed with all his prodigious strength, while, at first, William’s legs kicked out trying desperately to make contact with some part of the butcher’s anatomy, but then they swung loose above the wooden planking. His gasping breath was cut off within seconds and his face turned an even deeper shade of puce, until his head lolled sideways and he was finally dead. When the pig butcher realised that William had breathed his last he unlocked his hands from around William’s neck and let William and the chair fall to the floor. They landed with a crash that shook the wooden building,
which was echoed by the thunder that suddenly seemed to be redoubling its efforts, rather than passing over.”
“For a while, nobody moved. The thunder roared over our heads and we all stood and stared at William’s body, supine on the floor. Even Dennison seemed taken aback by what he had done, because he too stood and stared at William. I think he was finally realising that killing those he felt were to blame for his son’s death wasn’t going to bring his son back and William’s murder hadn’t lessened the despair that gripped him. In that moment, I actually felt sorry for him because his revenge was leaving him as bitter and twisted as before and with no other road left to travel. It was an empty victory for him.”
Silence fell as Nana Lymer stopped speaking, reliving the nightmare of that time. Victoria didn’t want to interrupt the silence, in case Nana was only stopping to think how she was going to describe what happened next. If she spoke now she might disturb her grandmother’s train of thought and she didn’t want to do that. She wondered how close it was to two o’clock, when Mr Vine was coming and, as the thought crystallised in her mind, there was a knock on the side door.
“That’s Mr Vine, Victoria! Run down and let him in before he goes round to the shop door. Hurry now!”
Victoria almost galloped out of the room and down the stairs to the side door, trying not to make too much noise and so warn her mother that there was a visitor at the house. She was very aware that the wall to her left, between the stairs and the shop, was only made out of plasterboard and absolutely useless at deadening any sound. Her hand slipped on the Yale lock as she tried to turn it to open the door and she grabbed frantically at it, desperate that Mr Vine shouldn’t knock again. Finally, she managed to open the door and saw Mr Vine standing on the doorstep in front of her. He was accompanied by another young man, who was smiling as brightly as Mr Vine.
“Victoria. Nice to see you again!” Mr Vine said, as Victoria ushered them both through the door and upstairs to Nana Lymer’s bedroom. Mr Vine wasn’t perturbed about entering a lady’s bedroom or having to conduct his business in that bedroom and he strode across the floor to the bed, with his hand out ready to shake hands.