The Midwives of Raglan Road

by Jenny Holmes

  A call went up. ‘Fetch the police!’

  Someone reached for the telephone behind the bar.

  Locked in an unbreakable hold, Earl Ray and Norman fell to the floor. The nearby Dubec seized the chance to land a hefty kick in the small of Norman’s back. John toppled the offending clarinettist from the stage. Blood flowed from noses, cheeks were grazed, women screamed.

  Gladys ran to Hazel’s side. ‘What’s on earth’s happening? Has Norman lost his mind?’ Before Hazel could reply, they were forced apart as another member of the band rolled off the stage, thudded to the floor and a barman rushed to dust him down.

  ‘That’s right – call the cops. This guy is nuts.’ Back on his feet, Ray stood back and took another swipe at Norman but failed to land the punch. As the fight spread out of control, there was the sound of glasses breaking and more tables being knocked over. Again John did his best to take hold of Norman, but this left Norman exposed to a volley of punches from an enraged Earl Ray. They landed in his chest and stomach, knocking the wind out of him and bending him double.

  ‘That’s enough – he’s half your size.’ Angered in turn, John thrust himself between Ray and Norman. He used his weight and strength to shove Ray off the stage into a narrow corridor leading to a dressing-room and a WC.

  ‘I get it – the kid needs a bodyguard,’ Ray sneered, his brow wet with sweat and breathing heavily. He lunged towards John, who fell back against the toilet door. It flew open and John crashed down onto the wooden seat. He saw Ray slam the door shut and heard him jam it with a heavy luggage trunk that had partly blocked the corridor. Choking at the stench inside the airless cubicle, John held his breath, raised his foot and kicked at the door.

  Outside, Norman caught up with Ray and they scrapped again.

  ‘Jesus,’ the band leader snarled between punches. ‘What in God’s name did I do?’

  The question drove Norman into a fresh frenzy. He smashed his knuckles into Ray’s jaw then drew back his fist and went in again, making Ray protect his face with his hands and stagger back, stumbling over lengths of timber propped against the wall, past the dressing-room door and out of an Emergency Exit into the night.

  The stack of wood fell like skittles across Norman’s path. He clambered over them in pursuit of Ray, while, behind him, John broke out of the WC. At the same moment, Hazel, who had caught glimpses of what was happening and had climbed onto the stage, appeared at the end of the corridor.

  ‘Norman, wait!’ she pleaded.

  It was no good – he kicked the timber out of the way and disappeared through the exit.

  ‘The idiot is going to get himself killed.’ Conscious of the difference between the two opponents – Earl Ray tall and muscular, Norman slight and still boyish – John set off again, closely followed by Hazel.

  It took a while for their eyes to adjust as they came out into the small, unlit area at the back of the club. The yard was roughly thirty feet square, with high brick walls and a gate leading out onto a cinder track and beyond that to the unfenced railway line out of town. Slowly John and Hazel made out the figure of Earl Ray standing astride a senseless Norman. He wielded a bottle taken from a crate by the door and had one foot on his chest. Ray glanced up, spotted John and Hazel then, with a flick of his wrist, he smashed the bottle against the wall. The glass shattered and green shards rained down.

  In the time that it took Ray to raise the weapon over his head, John sprinted across the yard and grabbed his wrist. They wrestled. John tightened his grip until Ray was forced to let the broken bottle drop.

  Hazel ran to Norman, who lay on his back in a filthy puddle. His eyes were closed, his face covered in small cuts from the broken glass and blood streamed from his nose. As she bent to loosen his collar and raise his head, Earl Ray broke loose. He took hold of Hazel by the wrist and swung her violently round so that she came between him and John. Then he snaked his arm around her waist.

  ‘Let go of her.’ John’s jaw was clenched, his words forced out from deep in his throat.

  ‘Stay back, John. I’m all right,’ she gasped.

  ‘Yeah, stay back, John.’ A second bottle rolled towards Ray. Without letting go of Hazel, he lunged at it, grabbed it and knocked it sharply against the wall.

  Once more Hazel heard the chilling sound of glass smashing and saw John, suddenly wary, crouch and take a step back.

  ‘Get the kid out of my sight,’ Ray growled, kicking at Norman with the toe of his shoe. ‘She stays here with me until you do.’

  Out of the corner of her eye, Hazel saw the jagged glass inches from her face. John raised both hands in surrender.

  ‘I have no idea what this is about,’ Ray insisted. ‘But if you know what’s good for the kid, you’ll get him out of here.’

  Every inch of Ray’s body was tense. Hazel felt the muscles in his forearm tighten around her waist.

  ‘All right, but you have to let her go.’ John ignored the shouts from inside the building and edged towards Norman.

  ‘When I’m good and ready.’ Ray watched John’s every move as he slid both hands under Norman’s armpits and lugged him towards the door.

  Hazel endured long seconds in Ray’s grasp – time seemed to stretch, sounds were magnified so that she noticed the slow drip of water from a broken down-pipe and the scrape of Norman’s shoes along the stone cobbles as John dragged him into the building.

  ‘Don’t try to put up a fight,’ Ray warned, gripping her tight and making sure she could see that he still held the bottle. ‘We don’t want to spoil that sweet face.’

  Framed in the doorway, John propped Norman against the wall. Norman’s head lolled forward, his eyes stayed closed. Crouching at his side, John looked up at Ray through narrowed eyes. ‘What now?’

  Warily Ray edged Hazel forward to take a closer look at Norman. ‘Go back in and fetch a couple of guys to haul him out of here.’

  In an attempt to calm everyone’s nerves, John raised his hands again and kept his eyes fixed on Ray’s face. ‘I’ll do it. Just let go of Hazel.’

  ‘No, siree. She stays here with me.’

  ‘Go – quickly!’ Hazel whispered, trembling from head to toe as she saw Norman’s body twitch and his eyelids flicker open.

  ‘You heard what the lady said.’ Ray backed her away again towards the gate.

  ‘All right. All right.’ John saw that he had no choice. He stepped away from Norman and started to edge backwards down the corridor.

  But then everything switched from slow to fast and furious as Dan and Reggie broke away from the fight onstage and burst into the corridor. They charged past the broken toilet door, kicking the trunk and fallen timber to one side until their way was blocked by John. They saw Norman raise his head and groan then dimly made out Earl Ray backing towards the gate with Hazel.

  ‘What the …!’ Reggie swept John aside and leaped over Norman, out into the yard, with Dan close behind.

  John recovered quickly. He threw himself at Dan and felled him. They lay sprawled across Norman as yet more men piled into the corridor, shouting and picking up pieces of wood to use as clubs.

  Out in the yard, Ray kept hold of Hazel and waved the bottle at Reggie. ‘Not another step,’ he warned.

  Reggie didn’t notice the weapon. He lunged at the band leader who sidestepped then dragged Hazel through the gate, smashing it shut in Reggie’s face.

  Hazel pulled free, stumbled, then gasped in pain as she twisted her right ankle. While Earl Ray heaved a metal dustbin across the gateway to stop Reggie following them Hazel tried to make her escape but found that her ankle wouldn’t hold her weight. The next thing she knew, Ray had caught up with her and shoved her sideways onto the banking that bordered the railway tracks.

  Back in the yard, there was a surge of men yelling, wrestling and throwing punches. Dan crawled out from under them and turned to help Norman, whose eyes were now fully open. Meanwhile, John picked himself up and ran for the gate, only to find it jammed shut. He looked up at th
e high brick wall then called Reggie.

  ‘Give me a leg up,’ he demanded.

  The sturdy cricketer formed a stirrup with his hands then braced himself to take John’s weight. In one smooth motion, John stepped up and placed his hands on top of the wall. He heaved himself up, sat astride the wall then positioned himself to jump down onto the cinder track. He saw Hazel run then stumble and watched Ray drag her to her feet and deliberately push her up the banking onto the gleaming steel rails.

  ‘What in God’s name is he doing?’ John hissed as he realized that Ray was taking out his anger on Hazel. He was down on the ground in a flash and sprinting towards them, seeing the glare of lights from the railway station 200 yards down the track and the soaring wrought-iron and glass canopy that housed a goods engine with clouds of steam and smoke belching from its funnel. His gut churned at the shrill sound of a whistle blowing and of brakes easing as the wheels began to turn and the train pulled out of the station.

  ‘Get off the tracks!’ John yelled, waving his arms above his head.

  Neither Hazel nor Ray heard him. The chugging engine gradually picked up speed. At the last minute Ray saw that it was in motion and panicked. He made a frantic attempt to drag Hazel clear but overbalanced, lost his grip and fell backwards down the bank of loose gravel.

  Mesmerized by the metal beast and by the lightning speed of events, Hazel hesitated. Should she escape across the track or risk a retreat, back into Earl Ray’s clutches?

  The smoking juggernaut rolled towards her over the wooden sleepers, eating up the space between them. The roar of the furnace that fed the boiler filled her ears.

  John sprinted towards the oncoming engine. He caught hold of Hazel around the waist with both hands and lifted her clear of the tracks. They rolled together down the banking and lay with eyes shut tight as the train thundered by.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  For as long as she lived, Hazel would never forget the ominous swaying of the goods wagons or the repetitive shunt and click of wheels turning on steel rails. The picture of that train rolling towards her would stay with her and wake her from restless sleep for years to come.

  The goods wagons rattled on down the track and John helped her to her feet. Earl Ray stood ten yards away, coming to his senses at last and brushing dirt from his jacket.

  John led Hazel towards the yard where the fight had subsided and recently arrived police officers were putting an end to the noisy brawl. She limped heavily. ‘Take your time,’ he said. ‘There’s no rush.’

  They reached the gate just as Ray shoved the dustbin to one side. ‘That crazy kid,’ he mumbled. ‘The cops should arrest him and throw away the key.’

  Hazel confronted the smug cause of Sylvia’s woes. ‘You nasty, heartless so-and-so …!’ Speechless with rage, her words ended in furious sobs.

  John felt her tremble and saw the angry tears in her eyes. He held her hand tight.

  Ray shrugged his shoulders then gestured for her to go ahead into the yard. ‘Ladies first.’ There was no gallantry in it – it was simply a challenge to John as their gazes locked in mutual hatred and Hazel, overwhelmed, limped through the gate.

  Inside the yard, two constables and a sergeant were busy easing the rival gangs apart. Their torch beams raked across faces that were bruised and cut and their boots crunched over broken glass. In the doorway where Norman was slumped against the wall, Dan was trying to explain events to David Bell who had arrived amidst the chaos.

  ‘Where did he get these cuts?’ David asked as Hazel and John made their way across the yard.

  ‘Search me. I wasn’t here when it happened,’ Dan said. ‘All I know is there was a fight that got out of hand.’

  Reggie squeezed past. ‘That’s right. No one knows who started it,’ he said in slow, deliberate tones.

  Dan caught on and spoke loud enough for the nearest policeman to overhear. ‘It was over in a flash. I don’t suppose we’ll ever get to the bottom of it.’

  ‘Luckily, the cuts are superficial.’ David gave his verdict then noticed Hazel limping towards him with John supporting her. He went quickly to meet them. ‘Norman’s injuries are minor,’ he reassured her. ‘What happened to you?’

  ‘It’s a sprain. I’m all right. When did you get here?’

  Her answer was in tune with Dan and Reggie’s desire to sweep things under the carpet, so for the time being David squashed down his own curiosity. ‘Five minutes ago. I was looking forward to a nice relaxing evening. Then I walked slap-bang into the middle of this.’

  ‘Nice and easy, lads.’ Two of the police officers herded men in dribs and drabs back into the building. The sergeant asked David if Norman could be moved out of the way.

  ‘Gently does it,’ David advised as Dan helped Norman to his feet and Earl Ray strutted by.

  Ray couldn’t resist jabbing his adversary in the chest and glaring at him. ‘Hey, kid – how does a coupla nights in a police cell sound to you?’

  Still dazed, Norman swore then thrust Ray backwards and clenched his fists.

  Quick off the mark as ever, John stepped between them. ‘If anyone’s going to spend the night in custody, I wouldn’t bank on it being Norman – not after what I witnessed out there by the track.’

  ‘You ain’t witnessed nothing except a guy defending himself from a crazy kid and a gal who puts herself in the wrong place at the wrong time,’ Ray drawled, all wide-eyed innocence. ‘That’s how the judge will see it.’

  Taken aback, John allowed the smooth-talking band leader to swagger on down the corridor.

  David spoke quietly to Hazel. ‘Are you going to tell me what happened out there? How did you hurt your ankle?’

  ‘I fell over.’

  The guarded reply made him suspicious. ‘He pushed you?’

  ‘Yes.’ The sight of Earl Ray’s retreating figure made her furious, and yet …

  David narrowed his eyes. ‘Then John’s right – they should arrest him.’

  ‘Ray threatened her with a broken bottle,’ John put in. ‘I’ll stand up in court and swear to it.’

  ‘No, John. I’m not sure that’s the best thing.’ Yes, Hazel longed for Earl Ray to be punished, but not if it involved breaking her word to Sylvia.

  ‘Did Norman start the whole thing? Is that the problem?’ David wondered.

  ‘Partly. But there’s more to it than that. It’s to do with me being a midwife.’

  Her faltering answer persuaded David to leave John and Dan to look after Norman and guide her to a quiet corner of the yard. ‘Come on, Hazel – spit it out.’

  She breathed deeply then spoke. ‘This is between you and me. I attended a birth earlier today. It’s the situation I told you about. The baby’s mother isn’t married to the father, and though I know his name, I’ve made a promise to the mother not to force him to face up to what he’s done. As a matter of fact, she won’t even let me tell him about the baby.’ The bald facts led her towards a clearer view of the muddle surrounding Sylvia’s pregnancy and she was grateful to David for asking the right questions. ‘That puts me in a fix with—’

  ‘No, don’t bring names into it. Remember, it’s best that I don’t know.’ He pressed his thumb and forefinger to his forehead, thought for a while then said firmly and deliberately, ‘You must keep your promise.’

  ‘And let the father get away scot-free?’

  ‘If that’s the outcome, yes. The mother’s wishes are the important thing here.’

  Frowning deeply, Hazel stared down the dimly lit corridor to see Earl Ray at the far end straightening his tie while he talked to the departing sergeant. Dan and John were steadying Norman and leading him slowly towards them. She held her breath in case Norman launched another attack.

  David followed the direction of her gaze. ‘Remind me – there’s a young husband in the case?’

  ‘Correct.’ She nodded then relaxed as Dan steered Norman into the empty dressing-room and John rejoined them.

  ‘The truth is out and now
the question is – will the husband forgive his wife?’ David sighed as he tilted his head back and gazed up at the dark sky. ‘There, Hazel – I’m sure they didn’t teach you the answer to that in your otherwise excellent midwifery course.’

  Within minutes everything was back to normal. There were no arrests, the bar staff put upturned tables and chairs back in place, the band returned to the stage and picked up their instruments. The opening notes of ‘Georgia on My Mind’ brought couples back onto the dance floor.

  ‘Come on, Norman, let’s get you home.’ John steered him up the stairs out of the club and onto the street.

  Gladys insisted on helping Hazel up the steps. ‘Will someone please tell me what’s going on?’ she demanded.

  ‘Sylvia has had the baby.’ Hazel hobbled painfully to keep up with John and Norman as they headed for the car. She sank thankfully into a back seat while John settled Norman beside him in the front.

  ‘You don’t say!’ In a flash, Gladys had joined them in the car. ‘What is it – boy or girl?’

  ‘Girl.’ Hazel held onto the door strap as John pulled quickly away from the kerb.

  ‘A little girl! Congratulations, Norman …’ Met by a wall of silence, Gladys’s voice faded and she cast a worried look at Hazel.

  ‘I’ll explain later,’ Hazel muttered.

  For once, Gladys bit her lip and looked out of the window as the car sped along Canal Road. In the front passenger seat, Norman ignored the blood that continued to trickle from the cuts on his face. He waited until John pulled up at the turning onto Ghyll Road then he fumbled to open the door and make his escape.

  ‘No, you don’t.’ John slammed his foot on the accelerator and took the corner with a squeal of tyres. ‘Sit tight, Norman, we’re nearly there.’

  ‘At least come in and see them.’ Hazel leaned forward to put a restraining hand on his shoulder.

  He flinched but said nothing. As they arrived at Raglan Road, he turned his head with a questioning look.