by Mary Wood
Richard suspected Mark had an ulterior motive for wanting to go, but had no inclination to goad him about it. The contents of his stomach were threatening to evacuate, and his head swam. Possibilities stabbed him with the horror of what could happen. God, he wished he had more leave. Not for the first time he felt the restrictions on his life. Bloody Hitler! How easy everything had been before that fateful broadcast saying ‘Britain is now at war.’
‘What about you, Richard?’
‘I can’t come, Mark. I’m due at Biggin Hill the day after next.’
‘And a bloody good thing, too. Having you there would only complicate things.’
‘Father, don’t you think I know that I have done wrong? Can’t you see how this is crucifying me? We are talking of the woman I love being in danger through me expressing that love. God, I feel bad enough without your constant condemnation.’
Slamming the door released some of Richard’s tension. Standing looking at the phone compounded the dread in his heart, but before he had time to ring Jack, the door opened and his father came through. ‘Richard, I’m sorry. I . . . well, I am angry with you. It was a silly action on your part, but I have suspected your feelings for a long time, you know. So maybe I am as much at fault. I should have broached the subject and helped you to a solution. Love is a very powerful emotion, making you act out of character. Still, all we can do now is try and save the situation.’
The stiffness and anger had left his father’s body. His arms were open. Like a child, Richard felt drawn to them. The hug held comfort and love, and the tears he hadn’t wanted to shed spilled over.
‘Come on, my boy. Make the call. Let’s do what we can to rescue the situation.’
Although he groaned inwardly, he didn’t say anything. His father stood by as he dialled the operator, his face showing concern of the kind that deepened Richard’s own worry. Where’s the bloody operator? She never answers when you want her, but is always there when you’re having a conversation. Poking her nose into everyone’s business!
The ringing continued: monotonous, persistent, demanding an answer. At last he got through, and after reeling off the number he wanted, there was a ‘Will try to connect you.’
A painful pounding set up inside his chest as he waited. No one answered. Images of the phone in Megan and Jack’s house came to him. He pictured the empty hall, and begged for the doors to open and for either Megan or Jack to cross over to the phone and answer him. It didn’t happen.
‘I’m sorry, caller, there is no answer from that number.’
He snapped with frustration. ‘For God’s sake, let it ring a little while. You haven’t given them time to get to it. I’m sure someone will answer.’
They didn’t, and his worry increased. Every possible scenario clogged his brain.
‘Richard, you know this is very bad form regarding poor Lucinda, don’t you?’
‘Oh, Mother, please! Don’t you think I know everything you and Father are saying is true? Do you really think I need all of this? I’ve behaved badly, but sometimes there is a moment in life when nothing else matters but what is before you. That moment happened at the station. I can’t explain it. Besides, I have been truthful with Lucinda. We have an agreement. Neither of us is sure, and we are not holding each other to anything.’
‘You will have to tell her how your feelings lie now.’
‘Where they have always lain, you mean. I know I will.’ He sank onto the bottom step of the stairs, his hands supporting his aching head. Desperation filled him. What can I do? What should I do? Please, God, keep Sarah safe.
28
Terence
A Plot Comes Together
Terence walked across the farmyard. Rita came into view, her cockney twang irritating him for a moment as she called out to him, ‘Oi, yer not avoiding me, are yer? I’ve been looking for yer.’
‘Far from it, Rita, dear. I have come in search of you. I want to have a talk with you.’ Despite his resolve, the usual ache came to his groin as he looked at Rita. The little minx stood in a pose in the doorway of the barn, one hand stretched upwards holding the door jamb, the other on her hip, her body at an angle that showed off her best assets to the most seductive advantage.
‘Right, mate. What can I do for you, eh?’
Her giggle, high and mocking, further disturbed him. ‘I can’t talk here. Besides, you’re not going to like what I have to say.’
‘Oh? That ain’t got a good sound to it. Where shall we go then? We could go up to the loft. Me and Penny have been putting hay up there to give us somewhere to rest out of the way of them lot in the kitchen. Nosy blighters.’
‘No, let’s go into the stables. There’s no one around at the moment.’
The stables were altogether a better place, Terence thought. Too many intimate moments had passed between them in the loft, and he hadn’t been up there for a while. His recent visits to Rita had been to her bed, whenever he wanted her. She’d get rid of Penny for an hour.
A picture flashed through his mind of Rita with Theresa. He shuddered at the memory. Theresa had deceived him. Not that it had been going on for long with her and Rita; she’d sworn the last night was only the second time. And not that he’d stop her in the usual run of things – or mind, even – but lesbianism! God, he hadn’t expected that of her. Clever, too, the scam she’d sorted out to cover taking Rita to her own bedroom for their frolics. He’d had no chance of doing that, and hadn’t wanted to, either. Any lady, other than Theresa of course, that he ever took to his room would have to be of a much better class than this whore.
‘Right, mate. What’s on your mind, then?’
‘First, your little tricks haven’t passed Theresa and me by. We know your game – gathering and storing information – but it won’t work.’
‘Oh, right, and who’s going to stop it working? I know what I know; and what I know, the society columns would pay a bleedin’ fortune for. Even more so, now your sister is carrying a kid. So you can bleedin’ stick that in your pipe and smoke it. Hey, let go! Don’t even think . . . Argh!’
Rita was surprisingly difficult to hold, considering her small stature. Her strength shocked him, but he held onto her arm and twisted it up behind her back. He couldn’t remember ever feeling as angry as he did at this moment. And never had he treated another human being – let alone a woman – as he was treating this bitch. Vitriol spat from him. ‘You vile, filthy scum. You tell anyone what you know of me and my sister, and your remains will never be found.’ How can she know about Theresa’s pregnancy? ‘Have you been snooping? Listening to conversations, eh? Well, a listener hears no good of herself, or of others.’
‘Let go! ’Ere, who d’yer think you are? How d’yer think I bleedin’ know? I saw the changes in her body, that’s how. Her breasts were much bigger, and the nipples were huge and dark – not like normal, but like when a woman’s got a baby inside her. Let go of me arm or I’ll scream, and that’ll fetch your dad down. I saw him go by a minute ago . . . Argh!’
‘Shut up and listen to me. You’ve heard tell of the murderer back in our midst, haven’t you? Well, I’m going to pay him a nice little sum to get rid of you.’
‘Don’t be bleedin’ daft, mate. You’re better off paying me for me silence than getting mixed up in a murder. You can trust me, honest. Besides, I know stuff about Billy and Theresa, and I know that you know, so if I tell him that you know he might do for me, but he’ll come after you as well. He won’t want to risk his wife finding out what he got up to. Wait a minute. It’s his, ain’t it? I’m telling you, mate, none of us want to get mixed up with him.’
Terence let her go. Why the bloody hell didn’t I think of that? Billy Armitage would think exactly as Rita has put it. There is nothing else for it: I’ll have to go down the path of paying her off. But then, will the blackmail ever stop? His mind went from one thing to another as plans formed. But as he looked at Rita on the floor at his feet, rubbing her arm, a sick feeling of self-disgust hit him �
�� not only for the degrading and brutal way he’d treated the girl, but for the credence he’d given the plans in his head. What kind of man am I? God, I don’t know myself at times. He turned away from her to hide the tears brimming behind his eyes. How low was he prepared to go? Incest, woman-beating, murder, and a willingness to destroy a man’s life’s work? ‘Rita, I’m sorry. I – I don’t know what came over me.’
‘Bit late to have a conscience, mate. You’ve near pulled me arm from its socket. I can have you for that, yer know.’
‘I – I just wanted to protect my sister.’
‘Well, you’ve a fine way of showing it. I wouldn’t like no brother of mine behaving how you have towards her. Now, how much are you offering? It has to be a good bit, mind.’
‘How do I know that will be an end to it? What about when you want more money? Will you be back with your vicious threats then?’
‘That’s up to you. If you pay me enough, no.’
‘What is enough?’
‘Oh, I should say as them society gossipers would give me a thou—’
‘A thousand! Are you mad? I don’t have that kind of money – far from it.’
The fresh-smelling smoke from the cigarette she’d lit, once he’d helped her to her feet, curled towards him, mingling with the smoke she blew out from the deep drag she’d taken. As if switching a light on inside him, it fuelled an idea once more. With it came clarity about how he could put an end to this. He gave his mind to the details as he listened to her droning on. She clearly thought she had the upper hand.
‘Well, you’ll just have to go to Daddy, won’t yer? Cos that’s me price. I want to set meself up in a little business in the East End after this bleedin’ war is done, and with a place to live as well. If you can’t sort it by that time, then it’s a poor doings – and not just for me, cos I could write a book about what goes on around here. “Confessions of a Land Girl”.’
‘Look, you’ll get your money, but you have to do more than promise your silence. I have a job I want you to do.’ Tapping his pockets, he located his own cigarettes. Taking his time to light one, he watched Rita, noting her uncertainty. Before he spoke, he blew his own satisfying drag of smoke towards her. ‘I need you to accidentally set a fire – or, rather, make it look like an accident.’
‘What? Are you off your head? What fire?’
As Terence told her his plan, all self-disgust left him. The idea was perfect: get Rita to set the stables alight, then follow her and make it look like he’d caught her in the act. With his testimony she’d go to prison, and if she let on about him and Theresa, her accusations would sound preposterous to everyone and would be looked upon as the ranting of someone deranged. Yes, it is perfect.
‘You need to do it tonight. There is nothing to it. It will look like you have been foolish by discarding your cigarette butt whilst visiting your friends – nothing more than that.’
‘But what if it don’t catch alight?’
‘It will. You’ll go to the barn and soak this handkerchief in petrol.’ She took the handkerchief he handed her. Put it in a bag, so it doesn’t touch your clothes: a brown paper one with handles will do. There must be some of them in the kitchen. Ask the housekeeper for one – just make any excuse as to why you want it. The petrol will soak into the bag, so make sure you hold it aloft and take care not to get it on you, or your hands. We don’t want anyone smelling it on you. Check and make sure, and if you can smell anything, there’s a tap at the end of the barn – use water from that to clean it off. You will need to approach Fellam’s farm by going over the fields. You will come to the back of the stables, and no one will see you until you emerge around the front, by which time you will have left the bag in a discreet place. When you depart from there, you light a cigarette. Throw the lighted butt-end at the bag, and whoosh! When that happens, run. Get as far away as you can. No one will see the flames until the stable is well alight.’
‘And what about Penny? How am I meant to go visiting without her? She follows me round like she were me bleedin’ keeper.’
He hadn’t thought of that; it was a complication. However, Rita hadn’t refused to set the fire. And excitement settled in him. This could really happen. He’d have to solve the problem of Penny, though. He’d have to keep her occupied. Maybe flirt with her. Not a bad prospect, actually. Since her physical transformation, she’d tickled his fancy more than once. He liked the innocence of her. Yes, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. ‘Leave her to me. I’ll find a distraction for her.’
‘You ain’t going to—?’
‘That’s my business. If you want your money, you just concentrate on what you’ve got to do.’ He wouldn’t have time to do anything with Penny as he had to get ready for Louise coming to dinner. But he could play with her for a bit; get her ready for another time – anything, as long as he kept her out of Rita’s way. But right now he just wished Rita would stop putting up obstacles. He wanted this sorting, but she hadn’t consented yet and still had the upper hand.
‘I ain’t saying as I’ll do it, but if I do, what about me money?’
The thought came to him to say You’ll have no need of that where you’re going, but instead he took a lock of her hair in his hands and twirled it round his fingers. ‘You’ll get your money, sweetie, and a whole lot more besides.’
‘I need to know when, and I ain’t settling for anything less than a thousand.’
‘Okay, but I can’t fund it all at once. I can find a couple of hundred, then make a regular payment to you from my allowance each month. It’ll add up to what you want, over time. I’ll work out the details. I need to find a way that you can’t touch it until you leave here, and yet stop you having it if the conditions of our agreement are not met. That way, I think I’ll be assured of your silence.’
‘You’re quite the gangster, ain’t yer, mate? Well, I like gangsters. I were mixed up with a mob of them in London. That’s why I come up here. I needed to get away for a while, but some of them blokes couldn’t half make a girl happy.’
‘Ha, well, you’ve jumped out of the frying pan into the—’ He couldn’t finish the saying, because the irony of this hit him and laughter seized him, shaking his body and doubling him over. Through it, he heard her cackling laugh join with his.
The air had cleared. They were co-conspirators now, and he liked the feeling. He felt safer with that than with having Rita as an enemy. But that only went so far, because he’d think nothing of betraying her. Nothing at all.
29
Billy & Sarah
Vengeance is Mine
The sound of the door opening and Sarah calling out, ‘I’m home, Billy,’ as if nothing had happened, set his blood boiling. She needn’t think as a couple of hours had made any difference, and if it had, it had only worsened how he felt as he thought everything over.
‘And about time an’ all. We’ve sommat to sort out, and it won’t get sorted with you going off like you did . . . Don’t walk away from me, Sarah.’
‘Is there a point in me stopping here? You seem set on having a go at me, and in the mood you’re in, it ain’t a good idea to try to sort anything out.’
At this he moved and positioned himself between Sarah and the door. Her face showed fear, but she needed to feel scared, after what she’d done. ‘I’d never have believed it of you. You, having an affair behind me back, and us not married five minutes.’
‘I haven’t, Billy, and I’ll not have you thinking it. I were just saying goodbye to Richard, that’s all. Look, I’m sorry – he kissed me before I realized what were happening. It happened and I can’t change it, but I didn’t kiss him back. I were just going to pull out of his arms when you came on us. Let’s just forget it. It weren’t meant, not by either of us. It were just a goodbye kiss. Let’s not fall out on your first night home.’
‘Fall out? Fall out? I’ll bloody kill you. You’ve been carrying on with him behind me back. I knew it. I bloody knew it.’
�
��I haven’t, Billy. I haven’t. He’s been away all the time you have. He was on his way down to Biggin Hill and called in on us, that’s all. And with me granna – I need to tell you about me granna.’
‘You don’t have to bother. I know.’
‘Well then, you know that me dad and your mam had such a lot to see to. And that’s how I came to be taking Richard to the station on me way to work. I couldn’t refuse.’
‘Couldn’t refuse? Didn’t want to, more like.’
She shrank back from him as he stepped forward, her plea desperate. ‘Please, Billy, don’t be angry.’
‘Don’t?’ He was unable to stop himself repeating everything she said. His eyes burned in their sockets as the mist descended, putting a red cloud around Sarah and searing his brain. His mind wouldn’t let him control it. Spittle wet his chin, but he couldn’t draw it back into his mouth.
Terror was written all over Sarah’s face and resounded in her scream. ‘Billy, no . . . No, please, please.’ She cowered beneath his raised fist. The blow caught her shoulder and sent her reeling.
He stood over her. The heat in his head blinded him, and flashes of his dad came into that heat: hitting his mam, making her bend to his will. Well, he’d no need to imagine any more. His own woman lay on the floor at his feet, and his blood surged through his veins with the same passion those thoughts had aroused in him. He had to live the scene he’d witnessed – he had to. He knew his body would be more gratified than it had ever been before.
Sarah’s pleas filtered through to him. Yes! Plead, you bitch! Her anguish intensified the feelings consuming him.
‘No. No! Billy. Not now, Billy, no.’
No? No? She is just like me mam. He remembered she’d said no to his dad. Everything was as it should be; it was going to happen.
The searing heat in him urged him on. Sarah was no match for him as he grabbed her and pinned her arms above her head. She writhed beneath him, fighting him. Yes, yes!
Letting go of one of her arms, the punch he wielded squelched into her chest. Her body doubled over, moaning and gasping for breath. The punch had felt good, and it made her easier to handle. Tearing her blouse released her breasts.