She loves the area, and thinks Michael and I would love it too. She asked me to tell you that she’s really grateful for letting her stay with you, and that she’ll come and see you every so often.
She sends her love,
I’m so excited, Grandad. She’s sent me the coach tickets, which she bought at the other end, so the baby and I have to go now, before you get back, because the coach leaves in half an hour. I’m sorry that it’s all so last-minute. I think her letter was held up in the post.
Anyway, you’re not to worry, it’s for the best. I’ll give you a ring when we’re settled.
She signed it with a kiss and left the note propped in front of the kettle, where he was bound to see it. Then she crossed the hall to the telephone table, where she picked up the address book and searched for a certain page; when it was found she tore it out by the roots.
The first note had been an outright deception.
The second was a betrayal of friendship and trust, borne out of coveting one person, and envying another.
She held the pen above the fresh sheet of paper for a brief moment, before disguising her handwriting to set down the words:
A message for Steve Drayton.
He will find Maddy Delaney
at the following address:
To be certain she had it exactly right, she consulted the torn page of the address book. Satisfied she knew it by heart, she then carefully folded the paper, thrust it into her pocket, and recommenced writing:
The Cottage
Brighill Farm
Little Brickhill
Buckinghamshire
She added a PS at the bottom-
THE CHILD WAS PUT UP FOR ADOPTION.
Closing the front door behind her, Ellen dropped the key through the letter box, and said, “Goodbye, Grandad.” She did not expect to be back this way again. Marching the pushchair smartly down the path, she waved to Nosy Nora weeding in the front garden, but did not stop to chat.
Within the hour, she had taken a taxi to Lytham and was walking down the main road front, her eyes peeled for a sight of the man who had accosted Maddy that day. Okay, it had been weeks ago now, but Steve Drayton would be very thorough, Ellen knew that from her dealings, with other “low-lifes in Soho. He’d be bound to have kept someone on watch in this area.
Maddy’s description of the man was imprinted on her mind: “Tall, willowy and sallow-looking, with thick shoulder-length hair. He had piercing eyes and a trampish look about him.” For days afterward, Maddy had spoken of him in a fearful voice.
Up and down, backward and forward, across the street and down the alleyways; for two hours, Ellen covered as much ground as was possible. But there was no sign of any such man. It was fortunate that Michael was having his morning nap.
Weary and thirsty, she made her way to the café where she and Maddy had drunk hot chocolate.
“Well, hello, you.” The homely middle-aged woman recognized her instantly. “Where’s your friend – I never did catch her name. Sally, wasn’t it – or was it Molly? Yes, that was it – Molly. Yes, I remember now. She loved my hot chocolate, that lass did.”
Ellen smiled encouragingly. “Molly had to go and see a sick aunt,” she said. “I thought, being as it was a nice day, I’d take my son for a walk.”
“Aw, the little darling.” Peeping at Michael, she tickled him under the chin. “You’re a handsome little fella an’ no mistake.” Looking up at Ellen she asked, “What’s his name?”
“Robert.” Her grandfather’s name came into her mind. And it was Michael’s middle name.
“Nice name – suits him. But I hope you realize, folks will call him Bob for short. They always do.”
“I don’t mind. Bob is a good name for a man. I’ll have a pot of tea and some toast, please.” Then Ellen settled herself at the table by the window, from where she could clearly see the length of the street.
A short time later, when she had shared her toast with the baby and was on her second pot of tea, Ellen was none too pleased to see how the café was beginning to fill up.
When a young couple took the table right alongside, blocking her clear view of the street, she gulped down her tea and took her handbag over to the counter. “I’d best be going,” she told the woman. “How much do I owe you?”
“That’ll be one pound fifty to you, dear. Drop in again, next time you’re round here, and bring the babby and your pal. I’d rather have customers like you in here any day than them hoity-toits.” She glanced at a couple of well-dressed women in the far corner. “Come in here with their airs and graces – never a tip or a thank you.”
Ellen grinned, and bade her cheerio. Just as she was about to maneuver the pushchair over the step, she looked up – and there, large as life, standing on the far side of the street, his sharp eyes watching every passerby, was the man himself. However, he was completely unaware of her presence. Now, much to her horror, he suddenly turned down a side street. It’s him! she thought. It’s that man! There was no doubt in her mind. She set off after him, pushing the heavy buggy as fast as she could.
Just around the corner, the man had stopped to light up a cigarette. He had his back to her. Ellen took the opportunity to pull her hair up under the cap, and, hunching her shoulders to disguise herself as best she could, she sauntered up alongside him. As she went quickly by, she deliberately dropped the folded paper in front of him. That done, she looked around and began running as fast as she could back up to the main road, while yelling to a nonexistent friend, “Janette! Wait for me, dammit!”
Behind her, she could hear him calling her. “Hey! This fell out of your pocket!”
Hurrying round the corner, she hid against the wall, then peered back, to see him staring at the folded paper. Then slowly, he opened it out and read it. When he looked up, she could see how excited he was.
Quickly now, she pushed the sleeping Michael into the corner shop beside her and bought some crisps and a magazine. She was exhilarated. He had Maddy’s address: he had seen it, and knew the note was meant for him. But thankfully, he did not know who had delivered it, and that was fine. Just fine!
Congratulating herself, she paid the shopkeeper a pound to phone and order a taxi, and then she and Michael were on their way to a new life.
From Blackpool station, the pair traveled to Euston, and from there to Waterloo and Southampton, and the ferry-port.
By evening time, they were boarding the ferry to the Isle of Wight. Standing on deck with the baby wrapped snugly in her arms, Ellen watched as the lights of the mainland shore receded in the dark-blue night.
Ellen had so wanted to change Michael’s name, but felt as though in changing it, she might be doing him an injustice. “Michael,” she kept repeating it. “Michael Drew: it has a certain ring about it. And if over the years people call you Mick, that’s all right too.”
She decided it didn’t matter that he had been named by Maddy, because he was his own little character now, and besides, his mother had not seen him grow and flourish like she had. Maddy didn’t know him; she had surrendered her right to him the minute she left. “You’re my responsibility now, darling,” Ellen whispered, and glanced up as though talking to some unseen being. “That’s right, isn’t it? Michael is my son, now and forever.”
Not far away, a woman and her husband had been watching her. “She’s a strange one,” the woman commented now. “She’s holding the child so tight to her, that it can hardly breathe. It’s like she’s afraid someone might snatch it away.”
“Stop staring, Nancy!” Her husband drew her away. “The poor woman’s probably afraid he might fall into the water.”
“Then why has she come out here, tell me that?” There was something about Ellen that made her curious. “I saw her inside and she was just as strange then… nervously looking about, as though someone might be after taking her child.”
Persuading her away, her husband lightheartedly chided, “Honestly, Nancy! As always, your imagination is working overtim
e. The poor girl’s probably had a bad experience or something. Either way, it’s none of our business.”
Oblivious to the lookers-on, Ellen felt happier than she had done in a long time.
Smiling into the little one’s sleeping face, she snuggled him even closer to her. “I’ll work hard to make a life for the two of us,” she promised, “and don’t you worry: nobody will ever find us where we’re going.”
She thought of Maddy. And her grandfather. And for just the briefest moment, wondered if she would be lonely without them.
Then she saw the baby’s eyes open, as he gazed up at her, trusting her unquestioningly, like a child does. And her heart soared. “We don’t need them,” she told him. “We’ll always have each other.”
Then, deciding it was too chilly out here on deck, she took Michael inside, still pressing him to her, as though she would never let him go.
Back in Blackpool, Bob had come home from his outing full of the joys of spring and in possession of two packets of fish and chips for him and Ellen, only to find the note propped up against the kettle.
“By!” he muttered. While he understood that Ellen needed to get to Maddy, he was deeply hurt at the manner of her going. “Well, I never! What was so urgent that she couldn’t have waited till I got back!”
He dumped the soggy bags from the chippie on the table, his appetite gone. What with Maddy’s sudden disappearance, now Ellen’s, he didn’t know whether he was coming or going.
Going slowly upstairs, he wandered through the rooms, and where there had been Ellen and the baby, there was now the most awful silence.
Standing by the door he felt incredibly lonely, wondering if he would ever see them again. It might have been better if Ellen had never come back at all, he thought, because this time, what with Maddy and the baby and all, he’d miss them more than ever.
Half an hour later, he was still there, sitting on the bed, reliving all the pleasant times they’d enjoyed. “By! That little lad did enjoy the beach, didn’t he, eh? Squealed every time he saw a wave come in, and when we took him for a trip to the Pleasure Beach in his pushchair, the look on his little face was pure magic.”
It was that particular memory that broke the old chap’s resolve, because now he could not hold back his emotions. He laughed and cried, but after a time he began to deal with the knowledge that he was on his own again. “You’ll manage all right, Bob,” he told himself sternly. “You’ve done it before, and you can do it again.” All the same, it was a painful thing.
Surprised to hear the phone ringing, he went down the stairs two at a time. That’ll be our Ellen, he thought, and his heart lifted. She’ll be full of apologies, same as always.
Snatching up the phone, he said straightaway, “Why didn’t you wait, pet? I can tell you it were a bit of a shock finding that-” He was cut short when a strange voice asked to speak with Ellen.
“Who is that?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s a friend of hers… Raymond.”
“Oh yes, I’ve heard her speak about you. But Ellen’s not here, I’m afraid. She’s gone away.”
There was a brief silence, before Raymond asked, “Do you know where she’s gone?”
“She’s gone to see her friend, Maddy. I’ve no idea how long she’ll be away. She’s always been a bit of a gypsy, has our Ellen – teks off at the drop of a hat, and sometimes you won’t clap eyes on her for years.”
“I see.” Another brief pause. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a telephone number or an address where I can reach her, have you?”
“Yes, I think so. My granddaughter did write something down. Hang on a minute and I’ll get it for you.”
Going to the telephone table, he picked up the address book and opened it, astonished to see that the very page with Maddy’s contact number and address on it had been torn out. Now, why would she do that? Why didn’t she just copy it down? He thought it an odd thing to do, tearing out the page like that.
Returning to the phone he told Raymond, “I’m sorry, but she seems to have taken the address and phone number with her.”
“And have you no other way of contacting her?”
“’Fraid not, no. But she left me a note to say she’d be in touch as soon as she got settled. When she does, I’ll tell her you rang, and I’ve no doubt she’ll get back to you.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
The conversation was ended, leaving Bob even more confused by his granddaughter’s action. “She must have been in a terrible hurry to rip out the page like that,” he muttered irritably. “Seems she hadn’t even got the time it would take to jot down the information.”
He shook his head in frustration. “That lass is a mystery to me. I never have been able to fathom her. Too much like her mother, that one!”
It was nearly midnight when Ellen disembarked at East Cowes. After traveling all day, with a heavy baby, an even heavier bag, and a pushchair, she was exhausted, but keeping going on pure adrenaline. Fortunately, a kindly steward from the ferry helped her find a taxi, recommending a good boardinghouse along the coast at Ryde, eight miles away.
“It’s called Seaview House,” he told her. “I’ve used it many a time myself when family visit. The landlady there loves kids, so you’ll be fine. She has fourteen grandchildren herself, scattered all over the island. Off you go, love – I’ll phone her if you like, let her know you’re on your way. She’s a nightbird, so she’ll still be up. What name shall I say? Mrs. Drew? I’ll do that right away. Have a lovely holiday, won’t you. See you on the return trip!” And off he went to make the call, after giving the taxi driver the full details.
Ellen was a bit anxious about whether there would be vacancies at Seaview House, and she confided this in the taxi driver, who told her: “It should be fine, love. The season hasn’t really got going properly yet.” This comforted the young woman, as she began to rehearse the story she would tell.
Ryde seemed like a beautiful place, from what Ellen could see in the back seat of the taxi in the middle of the night. Her senses quickened with jubilation. She had really done it! Got away and covered her tracks.
Mrs. Simpson was a friendly, barrel-shaped woman wearing a large green dressing gown and with a cigarette between her fingers. She helped Ellen out of the taxi and into her little office off the main hall of the hotel. Ellen had her story ready.
“I’ll need a room for at least a month,” she told Mrs. Simpson. “I’ve just gone through a nasty divorce. The house was sold, everything is gone. But I did secure a decent settlement. So now, I’m here to have a little holiday and to decide a future for my baby and myself.”
“Divorces are sad things.” The large woman spoke from experience. “One of my own daughters has just split from her husband and it’s heartbreaking for the children. You do right to take a breather. All I need is for you to let me know what you decide, just so’s I can organize my bookings. But there’s no hurry. Take your time, and enjoy the island. And now let me show you and the young feller-me-lad to your room. It’s a nice big one, with a cot and its own bathroom, so you should be in your element. I can let you have it at a special weekly off-season rate, too!”
“Oh, thank you,” Ellen said gratefully, following the landlady’s broad rear up to the first landing.
“There’s a kettle in your room and I’ll bring you up some leftover sandwiches from supper. Just let me know if the baby needs anything.” Flinging open the door of No. 3, she ushered Ellen inside. It was perfect.
A month should be plenty of time to work out our future, Ellen thought tiredly. By then, her little note should have done its work, and the dust would have settled.
She fully realized that the note she had delivered so callously, was like a signed death warrant. But that was exactly what she wanted because with Maddy alive, her chances of hanging on to Michael were slim to none.
Now, she simply wanted Maddy out of the way for good. After all, Maddy had caused her own problems, whereas the bab
y had done nothing wrong.
With that in mind, and the child secure with her, she hardened her heart to her friend the Songbird’s fate.
Not for one moment, did she give any regard to the possibility that, one day, Michael might discover the terrible thing she had done to his mother.
Twenty-two
Maddy had kissed young Robin goodbye and sat him down in front of children’s TV with a tray of Marmite sandwiches, and a Cadbury’s choc roll, next to a big mug of milk.
“I’ll be back in half an hour,” she told him. “I’m just popping home to have a bath. Be a good boy, eh?”
Maddy was just opening her front door when she caught sight of Brad. Dressed in thigh-length fishing leathers, and carrying his keep-net and basket, she didn’t need to ask him where he was off to.
He hurried over and hugged her. “After a day cleaning out clogged-up ditches, I had a hankering to sit by a cool river and catch a plump fish,” he told her. “So I just threw on my galoshes, and grabbed my fishing gear. I hope you don’t mind keeping an eye on the boy while I’m gone. I’ll have a long hot bath when I get back.” Stretching out, he stroked her face. “You’re amazing, my darling Sheelagh. It doesn’t matter how tired you are, or how grubby and covered in straw, you always manage to look beautiful.”
Maddy had always been aware that she was no real beauty, although she used to scrub up well at the Pink Lady. But now she thought of her face, devoid of makeup, with her hair all unkempt, and knew she looked like something the cat had dragged in. “Beautiful?” she laughed. “I don’t think so.”
He strolled with her to the cottage. “Are you sure you and Rob don’t want to come fishing with me?”
Maddy declined graciously. “No, because he’s settled and I want my bath, but thanks all the same. I’ll see you later though, won’t I? You said we would spend a cozy evening in together – me, you and Robin. That’s still all right, isn’t it?”
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