"Not yet." The shrewd grey eyes dwelt thoughtfully on Harry. "Going there now. Well, thank you; sorry to have taken up your time." He began a slow move to the door. "When's the baby due, Mr. Kent?"
"Why ask that?" Harry thought.
"About a month. I'm not absolutely sure."
"Worrying time," the detective said. "Looks worried, doesn't he?" he went on to Mr. Bertram.
"I expect I looked like that when my wife was having her first," Mr. Bertram said smugly. "It is a worrying time. But I've got six now. One gets used to the worry after the third, but one doesn't get used to the disturbed nights."
"I wouldn't know," the detective said, grinning. "I'm a bachelor myself." All the time he had been talking his eyes dwelt on Harry. "Been married long, Mr. Kent?"
"He is suspicious," Harry thought. "They must have my description."
"Five years," he said, his voice unsteady.
"Good for you. Well, I must get off. Can't stand around gossiping, and I expect you will want to get home."
"We close at six," Mr. Bertram said. "Half an hour yet. Sure that's all we can do for you?"
The detective again looked at Harry.
"That's all — anyway for the present." He nodded and walked out of the shop, mingling with the crowd that moved slowly along the pavement.
"Extraordinary," Mr. Bertram said. "I wonder who he's looking for?"
chapter thirty-one
They'll be watching the house," Harry thought as he walked up Fairfield Road. How was he to get Clair out of the house without being seen? And where were they to go? If only he had some money! He had only three shillings on him and nothing in the house.
Suddenly he caught sight of Clair walking slowly ahead of him. Only a hundred yards or so separated her from the house. He lengthened his stride and caught up with her.
"Why, hallo, Harry . . ." she said, turning.
"Keep walking," he said in an undertone. His eyes searched the street for anyone looking like a policeman. "Go past the house."
Fear came into her face and her step faltered, but he took her arm and kept her walking.
"What's wrong?" she asked, and he could feel her trembling.
"They're after us. A detective came to the shop. He wanted to see my identity card. I'm pretty sure he suspects who I am, and he has only to check the address in West Ham to know it's false. They may be watching the house now."
"Where are we going?"
"I don't know. I haven't thought. Have you any money?"
"Not much. About ten shillings."
"Don't look at the house. Keep moving. They may be in there waiting for us."
"We can't leave our clothes."
"We'll have to."
They went past the house.
"Oh, Harry!" she said. "This finishes it. We can't go on. I feel awful. It's no use. I can't walk far."
"We'll go somewhere where we can talk," Harry said, tightening his grip on her arm. "We'll go up to the Castle."
"Look, Harry, leave me. You'll manage on your own. It's the only way. I'm sick of this. I'll kill myself. I'll walk into the sea."
"Don't talk rot!" Harry said fiercely. "We'll get out of this somehow. Just keep walking."
"But can't you see this is the end? It's no good, Harry. We have nowhere to go, no money, no food, no clothes. Suppose the baby comes? Can't you see it's hopeless?"
"We've got to think," Harry said. "We're not going to give up until we've had time to make a plan. Mooney might help us. Let's get up on the cliff where we can sit down and rest. We've got to think of a plan."
She shrugged helplessly, but continued to walk at his side. It was uphill all the way, and although he helped her along he could tell she was growing tired.
A car came grinding up the hill and he looked back, his heart racing. But the driver was a woman, and acting on the spur of the moment, he signalled to her.
The car stopped by them and the woman looked out of the window, smiling at them. She was fat and jolly-looking.
"I'm going to the golf club," she said. "That any use to you?"
"Thank you very much," Harry said, and opened the rear door. "We're going past there. It's very kind of you to stop."
The woman gave Clair a quick look of sympathy.
"You shouldn't be walking up hills you know," she said as Clair got into the car. "Is this your first?"
"Yes," Clair said.
The woman engaged gear and the car continued its slow grind up the hill.
"We're down on holiday," Harry said. "We only came yesterday."
"I'm on holiday too," the woman told him. "I promised to meet my husband. He's been playing golf all the afternoon. Do you think you should go so far out of town? The buses don't run very frequently."
"It's all right," Harry said. "We're spending the evening with friends. They'll bring us back. It was a bit of luck you stopping. We just missed the bus."
"That's all right then," the woman returned. "I know what I was like when I had my first."
They drove on for some time in silence, then the woman said suddenly, "If you like I'll take you to your friends. I don't suppose my husband will be finished yet. It's only half past seven."
"We won't trouble you," Harry said, trying to speak calmly. "We feel like a bit of a stroll."
"Well, at least it's flat when you get up there. Going to look at Lover's Seat?"
"We might," Harry said, wishing she would stop talking.
Clair dug her fingers into his arm as they overtook and passed a policeman who was walking up the hill, pushing a bicycle.
"There seem to be a lot of policemen about," the woman said. "That's the sixth policeman I've seen. Do you think they're looking for someone?"
"I don't know," Harry said. "I shouldn't think so. Isn't this the time the patrols go out?"
"Is it? There was a police car in Castle Square, and another on the sea front. You may be right. I thought they might be looking for someone. It's funny how criminals come to the sea, isn't it? There was that trunk murderer, and that man Heath. I was in Brighton last year . . ."
Harry ceased to listen. He and Clair exchanged glances. Would this woman remember them?
Would there be anything about them in the evening paper to give her a clue?
"Well, we're just here," the woman said, slowing down. "You're sure you don't want me to take you on? I don't mind a bit."
"No, thank you very much," Harry said. "We'll get along fine now."
The car stopped outside the golf club entrance, and Harry and Clair got out. They both looked quickly down the steep hill, but the policeman wasn't in sight.
"Well, come in and have a drink."
"We won't if you don't mind. My wife hasn't had any fresh air today. A little walk will do her good."
"Well, then, good-bye. I hope you both get what you want."
Harry took Clair's arm and they began to walk along the narrow lane.
"That policeman will be along in a moment," Harry said. "We'll have to get off the road." He glanced back. The woman was manoeuvring her car through the club entrance. "Come on. Through this hedge."
They scrambled up the bank and squeezed through a gap in the hedge and into a field.
"Let him go past," Harry said, pulling Clair down beside him on the grass. Then he caught sight of something in her hand. It was a small, navy-blue handbag. "What's that?" he asked sharply. "Where did that come from?"
Clair looked woodenly at him.
"It was in the car," she said, and opened the bag to look inside.
"You mean — you took it?" Harry said, horrified.
"Well, we want money, don't we? You don't think I'd be such a fool to miss such an opportunity, do you?"
Harry caught hold of her arm.
"You stole it from that woman?" he said, his voice rising. "Are you mad? She'll report it! She'll give a description of us. She might even tell the policeman who's coming now."
"We had to have money, didn't we?" Clair said sullenly.
"Let me see what's she's got in it," and she tipped the contents of the purse on to the grass. "Hell!" she said angrily. "Five shillings! I thought it was going to be pounds! Five shillings, not a damned thing else!"
Harry picked up the money and put it in the bag.
"Wait here," he said curtly. "I'm going back. I'll drop it outside the club entrance. She might think, in getting out of the car, we knocked it into the road."
Clair didn't say anything, and watched him run back, under cover of the hedge.
He peered through the hedge when he reached the golf club entrance. The policeman still wasn't in sight, nor had the woman driver appeared. He tossed the bag over the hedge and watched it drop in the middle of the road. The policeman would see it, he thought, and would take it into the club. He turned and ran back to where Clair was waiting.
"Don't ever do that again!" he said, taking her arm and helping her to her feet. "He's bound to see the purse, and it'll delay him. Come on, the cliffs aren't far away. We might find a cave to spend the night "What's the good?" Clair asked wearily. "We might as well give up. What's going to happen tomorrow? What are we going to do for food?"
"Now look here," Harry said sharply. "You must pull yourself together. We would have been all right if only you hadn't started stealing. That brought them here. I'm sure of it. We're going back to London. Mooney will get us new identity cards, and we'll start again, only this time you're not going to do anything silly."
She looked at him and suddenly smiled.
"Silly? You're a darling, Harry. All right, we'll go to London and start all over again. Do you know how we're going to get there?"
"We'll get there somehow. When it's dark I'll phone Mooney. With luck I'll find him in. I'll ask him to come down with some money. He'll do it. I'm sure he will."
"Do you think he'll have any money?"
"He's bound to have some," Harry said, knowing it was likely that Mooney wouldn't have any.
"Now, come on. We're wasting time."
Clair shook her head.
"It would be much more sensible if you left me. I don't think we're going to get away with it this time. I have a feeling about it. I think you could, without me. Will you please leave me and go?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not leaving you. Now, come on."
"I want you to leave me," she said. "They haven't anything on you. It's been my fault all along. Leave me. I want to face this alone. Don't you understand, Harry? There's no way out of this mess. Why should they catch you? Look at me! How can I escape them looking like this? I can scarcely get along. If you love me, Harry, go!"
"Let's find a cave," Harry said, taking her arm. "I'm not going to leave you, so get that idea out of your head!"
She pulled away from him.
"Can't you see I don't want you?" she cried, her face hard. "Get away from me! If you're with me they're certain to catch me. Alone, I can do what I like with myself."
His love for her came surging back at the sight of her white, desperate, frightened face.
"I don't care what happens as long as we're together. I know it's hopeless, but let's see it through together. Let's have just a little longer together. Don't send me away. Our time together may be short: we're wasting it."
"Please go, Harry," she said. "I love you so much. I've done you so much harm. Please go now so at least I'll know I didn't get you into trouble with the police. I can manage. I'm not afraid. I know what I'm going to do."
He put his arms round her shapeless body.
"Let's find a cave," he said gently. "We have a lot to talk about before they find us."
The sea came surging towards the foot of the cliff, its rollers bursting against the side of the cliff and throwing up foam and spray which came into the cave.
The back of the cave was dry and sheltered. Harry sat on the sandy floor watching the high watery walls come surging forward with a boom and a roar.
Clair lay on her side, her head resting against his knee.
"I'm glad we came," she said. "I feel safe here. It's exciting, isn't it?"
Harry looked at the dark, scurrying clouds, outlined against the moonlit sky. It was exciting, but he would rather have been in his bed at Fairfield Road. This was all right for one night, but what would happen the next day? He was hungry, and although they were sheltered from the wind it was cold, and the spray made a damp atmosphere in the cave.
"It'll do for tonight," he said. "In a little while I'm going to phone Mooney." He peered at his wrist watch. "It's just after nine. In another half-hour I'll try to find a phone box."
She slipped her hand into his.
"Don't go, Harry. It's no use. Mooney won't be able to help us. I'd rather you stay here. In the morning I'll leave you."
"We're not going over that again," Harry said firmly. "You're not going to do anything reckless. Let them find us if they can. I'm hoping Mooney will be able to help us. It's a long chance, but it's worth trying."
"You're good to me, Harry. I'm sorry I've been such a slut I wanted to do so much for you, and I've done so badly."
"Don't talk about it. Let's try and make something of the future. Are you feeling cold?"
"A little. I wish I'd brought a coat. It seemed so hot . . ."
"And I wish I'd brought some food. If Mooney can get down here early tomorrow —"
"Don't go, Harry. It's wet and dangerous out there. You might slip."
"I'll watch out. I've been wondering about the tides. Do you think we're high enough up?"
"Oh yes. The sea doesn't reach as far as this. The sand here is dry."
Harry eased her head off his knee and stood up.
"Have my coat for a pillow. I don't feel cold. You should try and get some sleep."
"It's all right." She lay back, resting her head on her aim. "I'm quite comfortable. You're not going now?"
"In a little while." He went to the mouth of the cave and peered down at the swirling water. A wave came rushing up at him, he dodged back, just missing the spray. She was right. It wouldn't be easy to leave the cave now, but he had to do it. It was their only chance.
"Be careful, Harry. Don't you see? You can't go until this dies down, and I don't think it will."
He came back to her and sat down again.
"I'll wait. There's plenty of time. Try and sleep, Clair. We may have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."
"If it wasn't so cold."
He took off his coat and put it over her.
"I'm fine," he said. "I don't feel it. Now, try and sleep."
He sat beside her, listening to the roar of the sea, holding her hand. After a while he felt her grip slacken and he bent over her. She was sleeping, and looking at her the full hopelessness of their position struck him. How could they hope to escape? Anyone seeing her would recognise her. Mrs. Bates would give the police a description of them. Together they would be hopelessly conspicuous.
He got quietly to his feet. Mooney was his only hope. He decided to go now. With any luck he might get back before she woke. He felt stiff and cold with the long hours of sitting still, and he rubbed his arms briskly, trying to restore his circulation.
A narrow path led from the cave to the cliff head. When they had come down it, it had been a fairly easy climb as there had been no wind, but now as he went to the mouth of the cave, the wind made him stagger, and sudden rising spray spattered him with sea-water.
Bending his head against the wind, he moved out on to the path. As soon as he was away from the shelter of the cave the wind pounced on him and threatened to blow him off the path into the raging sea below. He clung on to a scrubby bush growing by the path and waited, crouched down, while the wind buffeted him and spray from the heaving waves soaked him.
A few yards ahead of him was another bush, and he made a dash for it, throwing himself flat, gripping at its roots, as the wind once again threatened to have him over. He worked his way to the top of the cliff in this way. Twice he thought he was going to be blown over. Once his foot slipped
, and if he hadn't been holding on he would have fallen to the sea-covered rocks below. He was trembling and breathless by the time he reached the head of the cliffs and lay flat, struggling to recover his breath, dismayed at the thought that it would be impossible to return the same way until the wind had died down.
After a while he got to his feet and moved across the scrub and grass land to the road. Once on the road he was sheltered from the wind, and he broke into a run.
It was moonlight, and the road showed up like a white ribbon. He walked on the grass verge so as to deaden his footfalls and kept his ears pricked for any alarming sound. He remembered seeing an A.A. box as they had come up the road to the cliff. There would be a telephone inside if he could break in.
After what seemed to him to be an endless distance, but which was only a mile or so, he caught sight of the A.A. box. It was locked, and he looked around for something with which he could smash in the door. A big flint stone in the ditch caught his eye and he picked it up, balancing it in his hand.
"I shouldn't do that, Ricks," a voice said out of the shadows, and a big, familiar figure stepped from behind the A.A. box.
With a startled gasp Harry dropped the stone and turned to run, but facing him were two policemen, and one of them caught hold of his arm.
"All right," Detective-Inspector Parkins said. "He's not going to make trouble, are you, Ricks?"
"No," Harry said.
"That's fine. Where is she? Where have you left her?"
"We've parted," Harry said, trying to keep his voice under control. He spoke in a husky whisper. "I don't know where she is now."
One of the policemen flashed an electric torch into the darkness, and almost immediately the headlights of a hidden car were turned on, flood-lighting the road.
"Spread out and keep your eyes open," Parkins called into the darkness. "She may be right near you."
There was a movement and swishing of grass as a number of men hidden by the high hedge moved about in the field. The car came up slowly and stopped by Harry.
"In you get," Parkins said. "Don't let's have any nonsense."
"It's all right," Harry said, in a low voice. He was thinking of Clair, alone in the cave. Would it be better to tell them? She couldn't get out without help. He had had to support her on the way down. The way up was much more difficult. He couldn't leave her there to starve. Suppose she had her baby?
1951 - But a Short Time to Live Page 21