Time Passes Time

by Mary Wood

  The girl froze at this from Rita. Her eyes darted between Rita and Ken, and at that moment Lizzie realized who she was. A sick feeling entered her. What was Rita up to, and had this . . . this Patsy – yes, that was her name. Patsy. Had she come to do harm to Theresa Crompton? Oh God . . . The walls of the bathroom closed in on her. Everything around her blurred. What next? God, what next . . .?

  Ten

  The Return of Evil Unites Patsy and Lizzie

  1963

  ‘Come on, Lizzie. You’ll be okay. God, Rita, look at the state of her! Not to mention the filthy state of her bed. You should be locked up for neglect.’ Patsy tucked the large towel back around Lizzie’s skeletal frame in an effort to stop her shivering. ‘Get some clean bedding, now! And hot-water bottles, and hurry!’

  Rita didn’t protest, she just followed all the orders Patsy gave. ‘Now, help me to lift her.’ Together they managed to get Lizzie onto what was meant to be a clean sheet. Bobbled to the point of having a rough texture, it had long since ceased to be white, and smelt fusty as if it had taken a long time to dry.

  When they turned her over, Lizzie’s back made them both gasp. Large areas of skin had rubbed off, and blisters covered her bottom, some broken and some full of liquid. Patsy set about gently cleaning her with the cotton wool and the iodine Rita had fetched from the chemist up the road. Throughout, all she could do was say how sorry she was as Lizzie writhed and protested at what must have been stinging pain. ‘I have no choice but to do this, Lizzie, love. I have to get you cleaned or you will get infections. One or two are infected already. I can’t believe you, Rita! How could you treat an invalid in this way?’

  ‘It weren’t all my doing. He’s to blame, giving her that stuff. She wanted more of it and got violent with me if I got near to her. It’s only been this last couple of days that she’s come round a bit, but then she refused to let me do anything. She just wanted to read them damn boo— I mean, sleep and that.’

  ‘Oh? What books? That was what you were going to say weren’t it? Do you mean those exercise books we shifted from under her pillow? What are they? Are you studying something, Lizzie?’

  ‘N-No . . . They’re nothing. Just scribblings, that’s all.’

  Patsy didn’t miss the look of fear Lizzie shot in Rita’s direction. It seemed to convey a message, as Rita grabbed the books and shoved them into a drawer of the dressing table. She decided to leave it. She wanted to get Lizzie’s confidence, and forcing her to show her something she didn’t want to, wasn’t going to help with that. She could pursue the matter later; at the moment Lizzie’s welfare was her main concern. ‘Rita, I think you’re right. Lizzie needs to be got away from here—’

  ‘She ain’t going nowhere without me!’ Ken’s voice held aggression. It froze the moment. The doorway framed his body. His stance threatened. In his unbandaged hand he held the rolling pin Rita had discarded. Instinct had Patsy throwing the cover over Lizzie’s naked body, and as she did so, a defiance rippled through her, bringing with it an anger that made her want to stand up to this bully. ‘Don’t think for one moment you can stop me, you bastard! Lizzie needs caring for. Now, I know that a lot of questions will be asked wherever she is taken, and that is why I’m gonna take her home with me. And like I said, you ain’t stopping me. The bloke as I call me dad is a doctor, and me, and me half-sister, are training to be doctors, so we can look after her and I can fix it so as nothing is said to anyone about how she got like this. Otherwise, I don’t care about the consequences to me and I will call the police!’

  ‘You’re a smartarse bitch! And you, yer cow . . .’ Rita cowered away from him as he lifted the rolling pin above her head. ‘What’re yer doing bringing the likes of her in here, eh?’

  It all happened as if in a film: one minute Patsy saw the rolling pin descending, the next she’d dived and pushed Ken over with every ounce of strength she had. Panting for breath, she lifted herself off him. He didn’t move. Blood seeped from a wound on his head and trickled from his mouth. His lips hung slack, his skin relaxed into a waxy mould. ‘Oh God! I – I’ve killed him! But . . . how . . . what . . .’

  ‘Nooooo . . . Ken! No! Oh God, please, no . . .’ Lizzie’s voice – a hollow sound from a long way away.

  ‘I – It was an accident . . . I – he hit his head on the corner of the dresser . . . Oh God, help me . . .’

  ‘Look, pull yourself together. He had it coming. He was going to kill me. You had to do what you did. You saved me life.’

  Some comfort seeped into her at Rita’s words. ‘Yes, I did . . . He was . . . I – If the blow had landed it would have killed you. I had to stop him. Ring the police and an ambulance, Rita. I’ll see to Lizzie.’

  ‘No. There’ll be no coppers. I’ve told yer. Look, everyone knew he were going to do a runner. It’s been on the grapevine for days as he’d stepped too far out of line and had a contract on him.’

  ‘You knew?’

  ‘Yes, Lizzie, I did. Well, I’d heard. Anyway, all we have to do is get rid of his body and say nothing.’

  ‘I can’t do that. I told you, I am training to be a doctor. I can’t do anything unethical!’

  ‘Since when did you have ethics, girl?’

  Something about Rita put a terror deep into the pit of Patsy’s stomach. It nudged the knotted fear already there and rendered her unable to move. She watched her pick up the rolling pin. The thought came to her that Rita intended to hit her with it, but still she couldn’t move.

  ‘’Ere, take this. Ha! I ain’t going to hit you with it, or hurt you in any way, as long as yer do as I say. Take it!’

  ‘W-Why?’

  ‘Just do it.’

  Compelled to do as Rita said, she took the rolling pin from her. Control came back to her with the feel of it. ‘I could overpower you with this, Rita and—’

  ‘You’ve no need to do that. Just do as I say and we can have an end to this mess and can all come out of it without any problem. But think on, missy: if yer don’t, I’ll say as you did this deliberate. That yer came here trying to force me to take yer to yer mam’s house as yer felt entitled to have stuff from it, and when our Ken tried to stop you yer threatened him and then yer hit him with the rolling pin.’

  Her movement took Patsy by surprise when she jumped forward and snatched the rolling pin. ‘Christ, Rita! What . . . what are you doing?’

  Rita didn’t answer. Her body bent, and taking hold of the knob on the end of the pin she wiped the end Patsy hadn’t touched in Ken’s blood. Nothing came to Patsy to give her an idea of what the implications of this were. Rita turned to go out of the room, saying as she did, ‘Right, I’ll be back in a moment. Don’t even think of doing anything while I’m gone, ’cos I’m telling yer, it’ll be worse for you if yer do.’

  Lizzie’s whimper turning to a full-blown howl brought Patsy out of the shocked stupor that had gripped her. ‘Oh, Lizzie, I – I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . . Please stop, please, You’ll be ill and . . . and a neighbour might hear you. I promise I will go to the police. There’ll be no more—’

  ‘That’s what you think! Shuddup, Lizzie, for Christ’s sake. Hit her or something. She’s hysterical.’

  ‘No. Leave her. Lizzie, Lizzie, it will be alright. I have folk who will help us. Everything will be alright. Just quieten down, love. I can’t think.’

  ‘You have no thinking to do, girl.’ Rita’s shove unbalanced Patsy. She fell back into Lizzie’s wheelchair. ‘Now, shut yer face, Lizzie, or I’ll bleedin’ well shut it for yer.’

  Patsy could do nothing about the cutting blow that Rita landed on Lizzie’s cheek. Her heart cringed against it, but it did the trick and Lizzie’s wails lowered to whimpering sobs.

  ‘Right. No more talk of the police. I have evidence to back up me story that you killed him – one rolling pin with your fingerprints on and his blood. And I’ll use it if yer do anything. Now. We all have to calm down and sort out a plan. We have to get rid of him.’

  ‘Rita, please
. . . We can’t. It’s criminal. We have to report the death, tell them how it happened. Everything will be okay. No one is to blame except himself. He was going to attack you.’

  ‘Listen, girl. Are you deaf or something? WE ARE NOT GOING TO THE POLICE! I’m on a life licence. They’ll delve, they’ll find out things, and I’ll be recalled. That ain’t going to happen, but if it does, I’ll make sure as you go down with me.’

  ‘But Lizzie saw what happened. She can tell them the truth . . . What things? What have you done?’

  ‘That’s for me to know. And Lizzie won’t do anything that would put me back in prison. Not to save your bacon, she wouldn’t. Not when I tell her who yer are and why you’re here.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘That’s enough talking.’

  ‘No, it’s not, Rita.’ Lizzie sat up. Patsy was amazed at the strength she showed to help herself. ‘I know who this is. I’ve guessed. I reckon as her being here is part of some scheme you’ve thought up, but I’m not going to be part of anything, whether it’s to save you or not. Christ! My brother lies . . . What is the matter with yer! How can yer be so cold as to try to sort that out to save your own skin? You disgust me . . . You both disgust me. You! The only reason that you can be here is to help her in some scheme that will hurt your mother . . . Well, I won’t have it, and Theresa doesn’t deserve—’

  ‘What do you know about my mother? How do you know she’s called Theresa? What’s going on here? It’s a nightmare. I feel like I’m going mad!’

  ‘I told her.’

  ‘No, she didn’t. Not exactly, anyway. When she was down she’d talk of her, but I – I have her memoirs . . .’

  ‘What . . . how? My God, this is all incredible . . . My mother wrote a memoir?’

  ‘Just leave it, Lizzie.’

  ‘’Ere, what’s going on ’ere, then?’

  The rough-sounding male voice seemed like it had come from another world. Patsy couldn’t sort out in her head where the man standing in the doorway had come from. Lizzie’s scream pierced her ears. Rita fell back against the wall, her face deathly pale. The silence that followed the scream held a tangible terror. The man stepped into the room and walked over to the body. ‘Ken? Christ! He’s dead! What’s going on here, Rita?’

  Rita shook her head. Her mouth still hung open, and her eyes stared out at the man. As he moved towards her, she shrank even further back. ‘I asked what the fuck is going on here . . .’ His hand shot out and grabbed Rita’s blouse, bringing her face close to his. Lizzie’s scream turned to a pitiful plea, ‘Don’t, Dad. Don’t hurt her . . .’

  Her father ignored her. With one swift movement he had hold of Rita’s arm and twisted it behind her back. ‘Tell. Me. What’s happening? Who did this? And who’s this . . .?’ His head nodded in Patsy’s direction.

  ‘I – I’m Patsy Crompton. I – I live in Yorkshire, but Rita knows me mam, whom I’ve never met. Sh-she’s helping me to find her. This was an accident. He—’

  ‘It weren’t no bleedin’ accident. She did it! She did it deliberately.’

  Patsy held her breath, willing Lizzie to speak up, to deny what Rita had said, but Lizzie just sat there staring, her eyes bulging in their sockets and her mouth wide. Dribble ran down her chin.

  ‘You what? Why? Why would she kill me bleedin’ son? None of this is making any sense.’ He let go of Rita and walked towards Patsy. ‘You say you’re here to find your mam? How does Rita know her, and how come you, a girl from Yorkshire, knows Rita? Fucking hell, I come back after all these years to see me daughter and I find this lot!’

  ‘Never mind all that for now, Jim. What’re we going to do? You’ve gotta help us. We gotta get rid . . .’ Rita’s voice quivered, and her body took on the stance of a helpless woman. A sick fear curled around Patsy’s already churned insides. It was like she’d been catapulted into an alien world a million miles from the safe world she’d left this morning. God, help me, help me, please . . .

  ‘Shuddup, Rita, and let me think.’

  ‘We should call the police. Rita isn’t telling the truth. It—’

  ‘And you shut your mouth, missy. There’s going to be no coppers involved in this.’ His face held a threat like none Patsy had ever seen in her life. Her body trembled; tears prickled her eyes. For one moment she thought he’d grab her, but he turned back to Rita. ‘This is a bleedin’ mess, Rita. I reckon as this one ain’t to be trusted, and what about ’er?’ His finger pointed at Lizzie. Lizzie’s face paled even further, until it looked almost like a mask of death. Her mouth quivered, but still it hung slack and spittle ran from it. Her body trembled as though someone had taken hold of her and was shaking her.

  Patsy’s medical instincts penetrated the armour of terror that had held her back from seeing what was happening before her very eyes. Lizzie was going into extreme shock. She needed help. She moved towards her, took hold of her body and laid her flat. ‘Rita, quick, put these under her feet.’ The pillows flew through the air as she chucked them towards Rita. ‘Hurry, she’s in shock. Oh, that’s not high enough. Jim, pass that cushion from Lizzie’s wheelchair. Hurry, for God’s sake.’

  Neither of them questioned her. Jim had a look of astonishment on his face, but Rita had returned to being a caring aunty. ‘Oh, Lizzie, Lizzie, love, come on. It’ll be alright. Come on, m’darlin’.’

  ‘Throw those blankets over her, Rita. And Jim, grab that hot-water bottle and refill it. It must have gone cold by now.’ Still they obeyed her without question, the Ken problem forgotten for a moment as they worked in unison to bring Lizzie back.

  With the first measures taken, Patsy took stock. Lizzie had a bit more colour in her cheeks, but her pulse was very erratic and her breathing was shallow. ‘She needs to go to hospital.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Rita, for Christ’s sake, shock is a very serious condition. She needs oxygen. She could die!’

  ‘You’re a doctor, ain’t yer?’

  ‘No, I’m not. I’ve done four years’ initial training, and I have a long way to go yet, but I do know that Lizzie needs help. And it’s help I can’t give her. Please, Rita . . .’

  ‘Fucking hell! I’ve stepped into a bleedin’ disaster pit. There’s going to be no hospital and no coppers. Right? Now, do what yer can for her. And it’d better be enough to save her life, ’cos you’re already on me death wish-list, and if yer lose me daughter, yer own death’ll be a fact. Now bleedin’ get her right.’

  Desperation entered Patsy at his words. What more could she do? Taking Lizzie’s pulse again set a panic in her. The beat was hardly discernible. Her breathing was even shallower, and her lips had turned blue. Patsy sought frantically for knowledge of the right thing to do in this situation, then remembered Harri telling her about something she had read: something about a man called James Elam. Funny she should remember his name. This Elam had been advocating a new procedure of chest compressions and blowing air into the mouth to bring up the oxygen level in a near-death patient. If only I’d read it . . . But there was no time for ‘if only’ . . . Which to do first? Oh God, help me!

  Lowering her head, she tilted Lizzie’s, holding her nose and covering her mouth with her own. She took a deep breath and then, praying like she’d never prayed before, she began to blow gently into Lizzie. Trying not to panic, she kept the rhythm steady, deep breath in, then gentle exhale into Lizzie. Stopping after a couple of sets to do checks, relief flooded into her as she saw Lizzie’s lips had turned pink again and she was breathing normally.

  Everything went out of Patsy at the sight of this. Her body slumped down onto the bed. Sobs racked her. Through this release of emotion she felt a hand touch her hair. Lifting her head, she looked into Lizzie’s face. Lizzie’s expression held a message – an unspoken hope. Nodding her head, she pulled herself up. ‘She’ll be alright now.’

  ‘Oh, thank God! Lizzie, love, yer gave us a fright there.’

  ‘Stay back, Rita. Let me get near. Hey, girl, don’t you worry. Your dad�
��s here now. I’ll sort this lot out. You just have to do as I say. I won’t let anything happen to yer.’ His hand went towards Lizzie’s hair but she shrank away from it. ‘Don’t . . . touch me!’ Hate rasped her voice. The swift raising of Jim’s hand didn’t affect her. Defiance showed in the way she stared back at him from eyes sunk deep into darkened sockets.

  Fear that if he landed the blow it would kill Lizzie had Patsy throwing herself at him. His reaction was quicker than hers. His body turned. His hand sliced through the air, catching her cheek and sending her reeling backwards. There was nothing to stop her fall. Her nightmare was compounded when she stared into Ken’s unseeing gaze. Twisting her body, she got up and scrambled towards the door. Something hit the back of her head, jarring her teeth together on her tongue. The door swayed towards her, her vision distorted then faded into ever decreasing circles. Her ears zinged with a high-pitched sound that went into the distance as she sank into a dark, deep pit of oblivion.

  ‘Patsy, Patsy.’ The voice came through the fog in her brain, bringing with it a searing pain that stabbed her temple. There was a note of desperation in its tone, and this compelled her to open her eyes. Peering through the darkness, she could just make out a figure lying beside her.

  ‘Patsy, are you okay?’

  She tried to speak but couldn’t. Her mouth wouldn’t move, and she growled deep in her throat. Fingers felt around her mouth and then a ripping, stinging sensation removed the tape that had held her mute. ‘Ouch! Lizzie?’

  ‘Yes. Oh, Patsy. Are you alright?’

  ‘Yes . . . well, no, but don’t worry. Where are we?’

  ‘We’re on a boat on the Thames. They brought us here in a van. Me dad wrapped a blanket so tightly around me that I couldn’t move, and then he put me in me wheelchair and told me that if I made a sound he’d kill you. He wheeled me out to his van. He didn’t care about being seen, but then, even if anyone did see anything, none of them would do anything. No one interferes round our neighbourhood, nor would they call the police – they’d be scared of what would happen to them if they did.’