by Pam Weaver
Gwen clutched at her chest leaving floury marks all over her apron. ‘What?’
‘I don’t believe it,’ said Kezia stoutly.
‘Apparently Matron had an anonymous letter,’ Roger went on. ‘Connie has been sacked.’
‘I don’t believe it,’ Kezia said again. Ga moaned.
‘Sacked?’ said Eugène. He and Isaac exchanged a worried glance.
‘But she never said a word about it,’ Gwen gasped.
‘Yes, she did,’ said Ga. ‘I remember it now. She told me but it didn’t really register. It was when we were fighting over that envelope. Don’t you remember? She was about to say that I’d got her the sack from the hospital.’
Roger raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Ga challenged. ‘I had nothing to do with it.’
Nobody spoke.
‘Like I said,’ Roger went on, ‘in view of the terrible day you all had on Monday, she probably didn’t want to upset you. All her friends, including my sister feel it’s grossly unfair and for that matter, completely untrue.’
‘An anonymous letter, you say?’ said Ga.
‘But who could have done such a thing?’ cried Kez.
‘Who indeed,’ said Roger.
‘I saw the way she looked after my father,’ Kez went on. ‘She’s a wonderful nurse.’
Ga was staring into the hearth.
‘Can nothing be done?’ asked Eugène.
Roger pulled a face. ‘Apparently Matron is adamant.’
‘What’s she supposed to have done … exactly?’
Roger repeated the story about Mr Steppings.
‘I remember her telling us about that,’ said Gwen. ‘It was an accident. No harm was intended.’
‘I’m sure of it,’ said Roger, ‘but the fact remains, Connie has lost the opportunity to do the thing she wanted most, to be a nurse.’
They heard the sound of a bed creaking upstairs and everyone’s eye turned towards the ceiling.
‘Mandy,’ said Gwen, looking directly at Roger. She glanced down at her dough. ‘I must get this out of the way before she comes down.’ She was pushing the dough into tins and covering them with a clean tea towel.
‘Forgive me,’ said Roger. ‘I forgot to ask. How is she?’
‘She was up quite early this morning so she’s having a rest now,’ said Gwen. ‘I want to thank you for everything you did to help us.’
Roger shook his head. ‘It was nothing. What happened to the dog?’
‘He died,’ said Eugène. ‘Clifford and I buried him in the orchard.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Roger. ‘Connie was fond of that dog.’
‘Pip is dead!’ Kez cried in alarm. ‘When he wasn’t here, I simply thought he was out for a walk.’
‘Someone attacked him,’ said Gwen.
‘Whatever for?’ cried Kez.
‘It’s a long story,’ said Gwen, ‘but we think Pip tried to help Mandy and her attacker lashed out.’
‘I didn’t realise,’ said Kez.
‘Have you managed to trace the man?’ Roger asked.
Gwen and Ga exchanged looks and then Ga blew her nose again.
The floor above their heads creaked again. ‘Ga, why don’t you go up and sit with Mandy?’ said Gwen. She had put the dough to rise next to the range and was busy clearing the table to do the washing up. ‘It would be good for her to see a familiar face when she wakes up.’
The older woman rose to her feet and left the room.
‘I don’t know how much Connie has told you,’ Gwen said to Roger.
Kez stood up. ‘I’d better be going.’
‘I’d rather you stayed, Kez,’ said Gwen. ‘You too, Eugène. Along with Eva, you are the most important people in her life and Connie is going to need all the help she can get if she’s to get through this.’
Aggie Saul sat white-faced at her kitchen table. She had listened to everything Connie had told her without once interrupting. It was far worse than she’d ever dreamed. Her mind drifted back to when Stan was a boy. He was such a lovely looking child and it wasn’t until he was about twelve that she realised he was a little different. That’s when she’d caught him with little Estelle from next door.
He’d persuaded the child to take off her knickers and do a wee by the back door. While she performed, he was watching her and touching himself. Aggie had scolded him of course. At the time she’d put it down to natural curiosity but in her heart of hearts she’d known it wasn’t right. Estelle was only six, for goodness sake. Stan’s father had wanted to give him a thrashing when Aggie had told him what had happened. Aggie had tried to stop him of course but Leslie had been too enraged to listen. Having called her boy every name under the sun he’d reached for his belt but Aggie made sure he never laid a finger on her son and from that moment, she’d raised her little lad on her own.
She’d known about Olive catching him with Connie but she didn’t feel that counted because they both blamed Kenneth. Olive had found some money on the table and said Stan had paid Kenneth to go with his sister. Well, what red-blooded young lad wouldn’t make the most of an opportunity like that, and Stan had been most apologetic.
She took a deep breath. How dare Connie come here and accuse her Stan of wrongdoing all those years ago? Why didn’t she say something at the time? Connie was going on about Mandy now. Agatha frowned. There was no proof that Stan was anywhere near the child. He’d been with Jane Jackson all the time. With a sister like Connie, it was far more likely that the girl had made the whole thing up.
They heard the back door slam and Stan’s voice called, ‘Mother, I’m home.’
Connie’s face paled. He was back a lot sooner than she had expected. She rose to her feet as he walked in the door. Her heart began to pound. She shouldn’t have done this on her own. She should have waited for Roger or asked Clifford to come with her, or even gone to the police.
Stan stared at both of them. ‘Connie, what an unexpected surprise,’ he smiled affably.
He took out his cigarette case and Aggie’s mothering instincts kicked in. Her eyes narrowed as she walked to her son’s side. ‘Connie’s been saying bad things about you, son,’ she said. ‘She’s been telling me that you like little girls. She says you had something to do with Mandy going missing on the Sunday school outing. Tell me it’s not true, son. Tell me it’s not true.’
Stan shot her a wounded look. ‘Of course it’s not true, Mother,’ he simpered. ‘How could you believe I’d do anything like that? Why, it’s disgusting.’ He glanced at Connie and said in a much sharper tone, ‘Whatever she’s said, she’s a liar.’
A wave of revulsion and nausea flooded over Connie. ‘You’re sick, Stan,’ she said. ‘You need help.’
‘It was you who went to see Reverend Jackson, wasn’t it?’ said Stan.
Connie was relieved. Perhaps it was going to be all right after all. Rev Jackson must have spoken to Stan straight away. ‘He’s a good man,’ she said, softening her voice. ‘I’m sure when you both have a chat, he’ll make sure you get all the help you need.’
Stan smirked. ‘Reverend Jackson and I have already had a long chat.’
‘That’s good,’ she sighed.
‘I told him not to believe a word of it,’ said Stan in a superior tone. He took out his cigarette case and tapped a cigarette on the lid. ‘He was very embarrassed having to bring it up but after I explained everything, he reckoned it would all blow over soon. All I’ve got to do is sit tight.’
Connie’s jaw dropped.
‘He could see it was untrue, Mother,’ Stan continued. ‘As a matter of fact, he said that his daughter was most impressed by the way I helped out with those kids on the outing.’
Connie’s eyes filled.
‘He said he would do all in his power to … what was it? Ah yes, “to purge this village of gossip and innuendo”,’ said Stan confidently. ‘In fact, I think he was going into his study to prepare his sermon on Sunday.’ Stan waved his hand as if creating a headline
. ‘No gossiper shall inherit the kingdom of God.’
Connie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. When she’d left Rev Jackson he was confident that what she had told him was true and yet somehow this silver-tongued monster had turned the tables yet again.
‘You know me, Mother,’ Stan continued. ‘Would I really do all those terrible things like she said?’
Aggie looked up at him with trusting eyes. ‘I never believed it for a moment, son, but what are we going to do?’
Connie suddenly felt very vulnerable. She took a step towards the door but Stan was right there barring the way. ‘Don’t be a fool, Stan,’ she began. ‘I’ve already told my family where I am.’
‘Let me see,’ said Stan, stroking his chin and play-acting a part. ‘Yes, Connie was here. She stayed for a cup of tea and then we both saw her leave, didn’t we, Mother?’
As he lunged towards Connie, she pulled the chair over between them. She backed away but there was nowhere to go. Stan and Aunt Aggie were both blocking the only way out of the room. Connie did her best to fight them off but within minutes they had pulled her from the kitchen into the hallway. Stan grabbed her painfully by the arm and Aunt Aggie opened another door. Stan shoved her in front of it and then Connie was slipping and falling down the cellar steps.
Thirty-Three
Rev Jackson was slightly surprised to see Eugène and Kezia at his front door. Eugène he had long admired. The man had done such a lot for the community during that long horrible winter and it seemed grossly unfair that he should be struggling with his business now. Rev Jackson was never one to listen to gossip but he had heard that the engagement with Miss Hampton was off. She had apparently fallen for an Earl and preferred to be known as a Countess rather than plain wife. Rev Jackson was aware of the gypsy woman because he’d had words with her grandmother about telling fortunes on the doorstep. He couldn’t think why they should both want to see him. As they followed him to his study, it crossed his mind that perhaps they wanted to marry. They seemed a rather unlikely pair but the war had changed so many things.
As they left Connie’s home, Eugène, Isaac and Kez had agreed that they couldn’t sit around twiddling their thumbs the same as everyone else. Ga had said Connie had gone to see the minister, so Eugène had suggested they start from there. He and Kez went to the door, while Isaac waited in the motor. He had no time for Rev Jackson. After all, it was his testimony that helped to put him behind bars.
Eugène got straight to the point.
‘Connie?’ said Rev Jackson. ‘Yes, as a matter of fact, she came to see me this morning but I haven’t seen her since.’
‘Did she talk to you about Stan Saul?’
Rev Jackson put up his hand in a stop signal. ‘I’m afraid I am not at liberty to discuss a confidence.’
‘Sir, we have reason to believe he’s a child molester,’ said Eugène firmly.
‘Oh, I think not,’ said Rev Jackson smiling benevolently. ‘Connie was a little confused, that’s all. After the events of yesterday that’s hardly surprising …’
‘Connie wasn’t making it up, Reverend,’ said Kez. ‘I know she’s telling the truth ’cos he done it to me an’ all.’
It was dark in the cellar. The only light came from a dirty window near the ceiling. Connie sat miserably on the stair and cried. Her leg hurt like hell from where she’d fallen and she’d done something to her finger. She’d been an absolute idiot. No one knew where she was and there was no telling what Stan and his mother would do next. Even though no one believed her, it was in Stan’s best interest to shut her up somehow. The cottage was isolated so there was no point in shouting for help. No one would hear her anyway. There were other cottages in the road but Aggie’s place stood apart from them. Gradually, as her eyes became used to the dimness, she looked around for some sort of weapon. She was no match for the two of them, especially with a bad leg, but, by God, she’d go down fighting. The one person she found hard to cope with was Auntie Aggie. Surely the woman could see what her son was like and yet she’d closed her eyes to what he was doing again and again.
Connie looked around. She found a rolled umbrella with a long spike in a corner. It looked as if someone had hammered it a bit and she couldn’t open it up but it might come in handy. There was a steel ruler on a table by the wall. She practised a couple of jabbing movements with it. She would have to be really close to someone to make a difference but in a desperate situation, it was better than nothing. She put them both near the bottom of the stairs.
The light was fading. Soon it would be completely dark and Connie knew that’s when she would be in the greatest danger. She rubbed her cold arms. She wished she’d kept her cardigan on now but it was still upstairs in the sitting room. She looked up at the cellar door. Was there some way she could barricade herself in? He wouldn’t be expecting that. She hobbled back to the stairs to look at the lock. The stairs were quite rickety, but the door at the top was stout. It was opened by a latch and a keyhole but the key wasn’t on the other side of the door. Her only hope of stopping them from getting in and buy a little time was to block the latch.
Back downstairs, she scoured the cellar for something to use as a wedge. The whole place was surprisingly clean. Rows of kilner jars with preserved fruit and pickles lined the shelves. The floor was nicely swept and there was a table and chair in the corner. She tried the drawer in the table and cried out in surprise. Inside she’d found a fountain pen and some paper, a pretty beige with a watermark, neatly laid out. She held it up to the fading light and saw the same lion’s head watermark that she’d noticed in Matron’s office. Whoever wrote the damning letter that got her the sack had used this very paper. Connie sat down on the chair to think. In her own mind, she had accused Ga. Ga had some of this paper in her desk. Mandy had got into trouble for trying to take a sheet because Ga always said it was for her and her alone. Yet Auntie Aggie had some too. Could it be that it was Auntie Aggie who had written to Matron? But how would she have known what happened in the lift? Then Connie remembered telling the family about it. Had Aunt Aggie been there too? Even if she wasn’t, she and Ga told each other everything so it was perfectly possible that Ga had told her the story about Mr Steppings. Connie’s heartbeat quickened.
There was a letter opener and a small hard-backed book at the back of the drawer. The book seemed to be a list of names, all beautifully written in the same copperplate handwriting. But before she examined anything else, Connie climbed the stairs again and forced the letter opener through the latch. It was rudimentary, but it would give her a little more time, if nothing else. Then she went back downstairs to have another look at what was in the drawer.
Eva had been busy collecting signatures. It seemed that the whole hospital was shocked by Connie’s sacking. She’d obviously made a huge impression on people and everyone wanted to help. Eva was on duty at two.
At twelve thirty, Eva had gone back to the nurses’ home to change. A man accosted her outside the door. He had already stopped three other girls but they had rebuffed him.
‘Brendan Beardsley, Worthing Gazette,’ he said. ‘Have you any comment to make on the new National Health Service which comes into being next year? I’m sure our readers would be very interested to know the feelings of an ordinary nurse.’
Eva smiled. All at once, she realised she had stumbled on a way to get Connie’s plight noticed. If she could get the reporter interested, it would be a whole heap more powerful than a few signatures. She slipped her arm through his and led him back out to the road.
‘Yesterday your newspaper ran a story about the little girl lost on High Salvington,’ she began. ‘Would you be interested to hear what happened to the heroic nurse who helped to rescue her?’
PC Noble had a problem with believing their story. He may have dismissed it altogether if had just been the gypsy, but Rev Jackson was a respected member of the community and when Captain Maxwell turned up to talk to him about the same matter, PC Noble realised that he would have to
tread carefully. He didn’t hesitate to tell them that he’d had his eye on Saul ever since he’d turned up in the area and decided to change his name. ‘I thought to myself, what man with nothing to hide,’ said the policeman, ‘changes his name?’
‘Quite so,’ said Roger, although changing your Christian name didn’t seem to be such a big deal to him.
‘But after a few enquiries,’ PC Noble went on, ‘I discovered that Saul’s wife had committed suicide.’
‘She didn’t kill herself,’ said Kez. ‘He pushed her. I saw him.’
The policeman gave her a sceptical look. ‘I should be careful, young lady, making accusations like that.’
‘The point is,’ said Captain Maxwell, ‘we want the authority of the law present when we go to the house. We feel that this man should be questioned about the little girl.’
Half an hour later, PC Noble parked his police bicycle in the hedge, took off his bicycle clips and straightened his tunic. The others were already waiting in the lane. They had driven to the house in Isaac’s car and Captain Maxwell’s car.
‘I think it would be best if you leave me to handle this, sir,’ he said, leaning into Captain Maxwell’s window. ‘By coming to me, you’ve made it a police matter.’ To Eugène and the others he called out, ‘Wait here.’
Roger nodded his agreement reluctantly. In his opinion, Noble was as gullible as the rest of them when it came to Saul. He was annoyed that Eugène had got to the police house before he had. They might have been friends of Connie’s but he thought them all a bit shifty.
Eugène had never felt more anxious. Had Connie come here? He worried that she had got herself into deep water. Kez squeezed his arm encouragingly. ‘She’ll be all right,’ she said. ‘Connie is as tough as old boots.’
Roger was proved right almost immediately. PC Noble came back almost straight away. ‘Mrs Saul tells me Miss Dixon was here but she left about two hours ago,’ he said.
‘You did go in?’ said Roger.