by June Tate
Percy Stanley had been very clever. He was certain that the police would keep a watch on him after searching his house and had left the stolen goods where he’d hidden them. In time, the police chief said they couldn’t afford the extra men to watch him any longer, and Ben was informed that he alone was to keep an eye on the man. Until now, the routine for Percy Stanley and his brother was to leave the market at the end of the day, go for a pint at their local pub and then go home.
The one thing that helped Ben during this tedious task was his time spent with Phoebe. He’d continued to take her out and their friendship grew. They would go to the cinema, for a drink, an occasional meal, and on a Sunday sometimes he’d be invited to Phoebe’s home, where Mary would cook them a roast dinner.
Marj was delighted. To her mind, Ben was a cut above the local lads and just the person she would like to see Phoebe settle down with. She said as much one day as they supped a cup of tea together on the stall.
‘So, darlin’, ’ow’s the great romance going?’
Phoebe laughed. ‘It’s not a romance, Marj, we’re just good friends, that’s all.’
‘No, love, you couldn’t be more wrong. I see the way ’e looks at you, ’e may not have let on yet, but I recon ’e ’as real feelings for you. You wait and see!’
Phoebe wandered back to her stall. She really liked Ben and knew that her feelings towards him were deepening, but apart from a kiss and a cuddle, he’d not said anything to make her think there was anything permanent between them. Besides, if there were, what on earth was she to do? Her work in the market was keeping her family. There was no way she could give it up – get married, have a home of her own. She wasn’t disappointed – that was the way it was. She knew that when her father had died, it made her the breadwinner. Her mother and Tim were her life, she was responsible for them. They relied on her, she couldn’t leave them to fend for themselves.
She was not alone in her dilemma. Ben too was in a quandary. He’d fallen in love with Phoebe, but hadn’t been able to tell her the real reason he was working in the market. It upset him to think he had to have secrets from her, but it was his job and to share the news with her would blow his cover. Apart from this, he realised how the Collins family relied on her for their upkeep. As it happened, at the moment he had no choice but to carry on as he was, but he didn’t enjoy the subterfuge.
Phoebe was coping with her conscience. It seemed to her that all interest in the murder had also died. She was the only witness. Her evidence could put Percy Stanley away where he deserved to be. Whoever the victim was, villain or not, he didn’t deserve such a death and Stanley shouldn’t be allowed to get away scot-free. He’d already served a prison sentence for GBH. He was a dangerous man, who, if allowed to wander freely, could possibly kill again. But although she felt strongly about the right and wrongs of the situation, she didn’t have the courage to inform the police. After all, she had no proof of what she saw. It would be her word against his.
At last spring had arrived. The parks were full of daffodils in bloom, the wild cherry trees in blossom and the spirits of the townsfolk were lifted. It was Phoebe’s turn to tease her good friend Marj. Tony Jackson, the man who ran the stall selling hardware, had been paying attention to her. He’d taken her out for a drink a couple of times and when he wasn’t busy in the market, he’d wander over for a chat.
Phoebe sidled over to her friend when Tony had left one morning.
‘You know what they say, Marj? In spring a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of love! I reckon Tony has fallen for you.’
Marj blushed like a schoolgirl. ‘Don’t be so bloody daft! In any case, Tony is ’ardly a young man any more. ’E’s fifty, for God’s sake.’
‘Snow on the roof doesn’t mean there’s no fire in the grate,’ said Phoebe, quoting another old saying. ‘Wouldn’t you like a bit of company in your old age? Someone to cuddle into on a cold night? You’re always telling me that love makes the world go round – or are you all mouth and no trousers?’
‘You been reading a book of quotes by any chance?’ her friend retorted.
‘No, but I hate the thought of you living the rest of your life alone.’ She grinned broadly. ‘You could still give a man a run for his money, I’m sure.’
There was a wicked twinkle in Marj’s eye when she answered. ‘That I could!’
‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ Phoebe walked away, leaving her friend to think about her advice.
Phoebe was really fond of Marj. When her father died and she took over the stall next to her, the woman had watched over her. Helped her with various rules and regulations of the market. Given her tips about looking after her stall, about the things that sold well. She owed Marj a great deal and longed to see her taken care of by someone who was kind and caring. Tony Jackson was both.
She said as much to Ben as he helped her put her stall away that evening.
He helped her lock up and after putting an arm around her said, ‘You are a romantic at heart, Phoebe.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with that, Ben! Just because Marj and Tony are no longer young, it doesn’t mean they have no feelings any more.’
‘Oh, I quite agree, you only have to see my parents together to know that. They are still head over heels for each other. Come on, I’ll walk you home.’
When they arrived, Phoebe invited Ben in for a cup of tea. She was surprised not to see her mother in the kitchen, only Tim, who was filling the kettle.
‘Where’s Mum?’
‘She’s in bed, she said she wasn’t feeling well.’
Phoebe ran up the stairs to find Mary swaddled in bedclothes, shivering and complaining about the cold.
Phoebe put her hand on her mother’s forehead, it was burning. ‘How long have you felt like this?’ she asked.
‘Since yesterday, but I had some laundry to finish. Then, when I’d delivered it, I came to bed. My breathing’s bad and I have pains in my chest.’
Phoebe found a couple more blankets and tucked her mother in, then went downstairs and sent Tim for the doctor and made a cup of tea for her mother.
‘What is it?’ asked Ben.
‘She’s not well, she says she’s cold but she’s burning up. I’m really worried.’
Ben made her sit down after she’d helped her mother drink a little of the warm beverage. ‘I’ll wait with you for the doctor. Try not to worry.’
The doctor duly arrived and examined Mrs Collins. Then he told Phoebe he was going to call an ambulance as he thought her mother may have pneumonia.
‘The sooner we get her to the hospital, the better.’
When the ambulance arrived, Ben offered to stay with Tim until she came home.
‘Don’t worry about Tim. I’ll be here until you return, however long that may be. I won’t leave the boy.’
Phoebe climbed into the ambulance and waved to Ben and Tim who stood watching. She noticed how Ben had a comforting arm around her brother’s shoulders and knew he was in safe hands.
Mary was quickly taken into a ward and examined by the doctor. He gave instructions to the matron, then he came into the waiting room to see Phoebe.
He came straight to the point.
‘Your mother has pneumonia. I’m putting her on oxygen to help her breathing. Her temperature is very high, and we must try to bring that down.’
‘Is she going to recover, Doctor?’
‘The next twenty-four hours will be crucial. We’ll do our very best for her.’
‘Can I see her?’
‘Yes. Sit with her for a while, if you wish. Don’t worry if she seems a little confused, that’s normal under the circumstances. I advise you to go home after and get some sleep. Come back in the morning. We’ll have a clearer picture then.’
A nurse took Phoebe into the ward and to the bed where Mary lay. She closed the curtains around the bed and left her alone with her mother.
Phoebe gazed at the prostrate figure beneath the bedclothes, eyes closed, a mask ov
er her face, an oxygen cylinder beside the bed. She took her mother’s hand in hers, fighting back the tears. She spoke softly.
‘My goodness me, Mum! I can’t leave you alone for five minutes and you’re in trouble. The doctor is nice, love, he’s going to try and get your temperature down, and then you’ll feel better.’
There was no answer.
‘When the warmer weather comes, we’ll take a picnic one Sunday and go to the beach. Tim will love that. Perhaps we’ll ask Ben to come too.’
She sat for another hour, stroking her mother’s hand, talking softly, then she stood up, kissed her mother on the forehead and said, ‘I have to go now, Mum. Ben is looking after Tim and he’ll be worried wondering how you are. I’ll come back in the morning. I do love you, Mum. You get well, you hear?’
Her mind in turmoil, Phoebe hardly remembered getting home, but as she let herself into the house and saw Ben, who rose to his feet as she stepped into the room, she burst into tears.
Gathering her into his arms, Ben just held her close until she had recovered enough to tell him and Tim what had happened. She tried to play down the seriousness of the situation so as not to frighten her young brother, but Ben saw what she was doing and once Tim had gone to bed, he asked her for the true situation.
‘Mum’s very ill, her temperature is high and she’s on oxygen to help her breathe. I’m scared Ben, really scared. I’m to go back in the morning.’
‘Right,’ he said. ‘If it’s all right with you, I’ll camp out on the settee with a couple of blankets, give Tim his breakfast, see him off to school and if you want me to, I’ll come to the hospital and sit with you.’
‘But what about your stall?’
‘This is far more important. Now, what have you in the house to eat, you must have something. Tim and I had some stew that was on the hob, there’s a little left − try and eat just a bit of it.’
She made to protest but he was adamant. ‘You need to keep up your strength. Now, just sit down and I’ll cut you a slice of bread and butter to go with it.’
Too weary to argue, Phoebe did as she was told. She was relieved to have someone to take control as she was incapable of thoughts, other than those of her mother.
Once she’d eaten, she found a couple of blankets for Ben, who stoked up the fire and kissed her goodnight. ‘Try and get some sleep. I’ll be here if you need me.’
Phoebe slept fitfully for a while, then sank into a deep sleep, waking suddenly just after seven o’clock. She quickly dressed and made her way to the kitchen, where she saw Ben and Tim sitting eating porridge and toast.
‘Good morning! Sit and have a cup of tea while I make you some breakfast,’ Ben said. ‘Did you get any sleep?’
‘Eventually. You all right, Tim?’
He smiled at her. ‘Ben can cook! He made the porridge and toasted the bread by the fire. How about that!’
Phoebe grinned. ‘He’s an unusual man, I’ll grant you.’
‘My dad cooks,’ Ben said proudly. ‘He makes a terrific roast dinner. He and my mum taught me. Mum said if I was leaving home, I needed to know how to feed myself properly.’ He kept the conversation light for Tim’s sake until it was time for the lad to go to school.
Ben offered to walk him there, but the boy refused politely. At the front door, he hesitated. ‘Give Mum my love, Phoebe. Tell her I miss her.’
She got to her feet and hugged her brother. ‘That I will. Now off you go and be a good boy. See you later.’
Just after nine o’clock, Ben and Phoebe took a tram to the hospital and checked in at the reception. They were told to go to the ward where the nurse would see them. But as they arrived they were greeted by the doctor, who took them into an empty side room.
‘Sit down, Miss Collins.’
Phoebe’s heart sank at his serious tone. She felt Ben take her hand.
‘I am so sorry, my dear, but your mother passed away an hour ago. We did all we could for her, but she slipped quietly away.’
Phoebe let out a cry of anguish. Ben put an arm round her shoulders.
The tears came slowly, it was too much to take in. Her mother gone – and so quickly.
‘Can I see her?’
‘But of course.’ He looked at Ben and said, ‘Perhaps you could come with the young lady?’
Ben nodded and they stood up and followed the doctor. He opened the door to a side room and let them enter alone.
Phoebe walked over to the bed and looked at her mother. She leant forward and kissed her forehead. ‘Oh, Mum, what will we do without you?’ She sat on the chair beside the bed and placed her hand over her mother’s and cried softly.
Ben stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder, and let her release the grief that overwhelmed her.
A while later, Ben left the room saying he wouldn’t be long. He spoke to the doctor and arranged for the body to be taken to the hospital morgue until a funeral could be arranged, thus saving Phoebe more anguish, and returned to her side.
Eventually she stood up. ‘It’s time to go. I have arrangements to make.’
‘First, we’ll go home, give ourselves time to think. It’s all been so sudden that it’s hard to accept.’ He caught her firmly by her shoulders and stared into her eyes. ‘You do not have to handle this alone, Phoebe. I’ll be here with you until it’s over.’
She leant against him. ‘Oh, thank you, you have no idea how that makes me feel.’
‘Come along, let’s get a tram and at home we can at last gather our thoughts and make a list of what’s to be done.’
Chapter Nine
The two of them sat at the table, drinking cups of strong tea. Phoebe was still in shock from the sudden loss of her mother.
‘I’ll have to tell Tim when he comes home. There’s no point in going to the school, it wouldn’t make a bit of difference to Mum. It’s best he’s in his own home to get such news.’ She turned to Ben. ‘That poor boy, he’s now an orphan – and so am I. But he’s so young. He adored his mother, he’ll be devastated.’
‘Of course he will, but life can be harsh, Phoebe. We just have to face up to it when it happens. He has you … and me. He’s not alone in this.’
With tears brimming her eyes, Phoebe gazed at him. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Ben, but you must go back to work, this isn’t your family and you’ll be losing money.’
‘Now you listen to me, young lady! I told you, you wouldn’t have to face this alone and I meant every word. A few days off the market isn’t going to break me. We have a funeral to organise, Tim to look after, then we can go back to work. It’s probably a good thing to do. Keeping busy is the best answer. It doesn’t give you so much time to think. Now let’s get some food on the go for when Tim comes home.’
Between them they chopped vegetables and a little meat that was in the larder and made a hearty soup. Phoebe changed the bed linen and put it in the copper in the outhouse to boil, hung the pillows on the line to freshen. She sat on the bare empty bed she’d shared with her mother and wept. Never again would Mary share this room with her. Never again would they lay and chat about the day’s happenings. Never again would she walk into the house and see Mary ironing the laundry she took in to swell their coffers. Never again! She lay on the bed and sobbed for the woman she loved.
Downstairs, Ben could hear her anguish, but he left her to her grief, knowing she had to get it out of her system before she could move on. He longed to comfort her, but he let her be.
Eventually Phoebe came downstairs, her pretty face swollen with weeping. She washed her face and saw to the laundry and laid the table, waiting for her brother to return, dreading the moment.
Tim opened the door and stepped into the living room, shutting the door behind him. Turning, he saw Ben stirring a pot on the stove, then he saw Phoebe and knew by the expression on her face that something was wrong.
Phoebe walked over to him and gently led him to the settee. Taking his hands in hers she spoke softly. ‘I need you to be brave, Ti
m, as I’ve some sad news to tell you.’
The boy’s eyes widened with concern. ‘It’s about Mum, isn’t it? Is she all right?’
Taking a deep breath she said, ‘Mum passed away this morning, Tim. Sadly the doctors couldn’t bring her temperature down. She’s with Dad now.’
‘She’s dead?’
Phoebe, unable to speak, nodded.
‘Oh, Phoebe, I’ll never see her again,’ and he burst into tears.
Phoebe held him close and let him cry.
Ben looked over at the pair and was saddened to see the boy’s distress over the loss of his mother. He was a good lad whose world had suddenly collapsed. It was a lot to take in. He walked over to the boy and gave him a handkerchief.
Knowing he was in a state of shock, he encouraged Tim to come and sit by the fire to keep warm. He placed a shawl of Phoebe’s around his shoulders, knowing that shock can chill a body. He made a cup of tea and put a splash of brandy in it and gave it to Tim, then made another one for Phoebe. He always carried a flask of brandy with him to keep out the cold, and today it filled a need more than on most days.
Eventually, Ben served up the soup and cut some bread and they sat around the table, not really wanting to eat, but nevertheless finding a comfort from it.
As Phoebe cleared away the dishes, Ben turned to the boy. ‘Tomorrow, Tim, I’m taking Phoebe to book your mother’s funeral. Do you want to come with us or go to school?’
‘I’ll come with you please, Ben. I couldn’t face school.’
‘That’s fine. I’ll get a message to your teacher explaining your absence. A couple of days away won’t do any harm, but after that we all have to get back to work and you to school. You understand, don’t you? This isn’t disrespecting your mother, it’s just a fact of life. We all have to work to keep the money coming in to pay the bills.’