Dickie (Feeney Family Sagas Book 4)

by Sheelagh Kelly

  ‘I could if somebody brought it for me.’

  ‘Me? I can’t drive.’

  ‘I understood you could do just about everything.’ It was meant as sarcasm.

  ‘Even if I could, the police would follow me, wouldn’t they? Talk sense. That car would stick out like a sore thumb.’

  ‘Well, I’m not walking twenty bloody miles,’ vouched Dickie. ‘I’ll get the train.’

  ‘If you want to take the risk.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about this: they won’t have the whole blasted police force out looking for me over a crime that’s a quarter of a century old, surely?’

  ‘What you’ve got to decide is which places will they be watching?’

  ‘It’s almost a certainty they’ll be watching Peasholme,’ said her uncle.

  ‘So you’ll risk the train?’

  He thought for a moment or two. ‘A cab might be the safer bet.’

  ‘It’ll be awfully expensive, and didn’t I hear you say you’d left your money at Peasholme?’

  ‘Sod an’ dammit! I don’t suppose … ?’

  ‘Sorry, Uncle Dickie, I’m on a strict budget.’

  ‘Remind me to tell Brian what a lucky escape he’s had.’

  Her face showed that she did not wish to be reminded of Brian. Silence reigned for a time whilst she pondered on this afternoon’s debacle. Then she sighed. ‘Poor Brian … I wish I’d kept things on just a friendly basis like we had at the beginning; it’s terrible when one partner loves the other more. I suppose you and I are somewhat alike in that position.’

  Dickie looked at her as though she were mad and said she could not be more wrong. ‘Dusty could never love me more than I love her. I often think …’ he laughed in embarrassment, ‘ … well, when ye get to my age ye start to feel mortal, especially seeing the old fella like that … I dread to think what’d happen to me if Dusty went first.’

  Belle saw that his utterance was genuine and shook her head in disbelief. ‘How you have the gall to say that…’

  ‘’Cause I kissed you, ye mean? That was very enjoyable but it doesn’t mean I’ve stopped loving Dusty.’ He turned his body around on the sofa and took hold of her hand. ‘In fact, now I come to think of it, it was most enjoyable indeed and it’s been a long time since it happened. D’ye fancy a bit more?’

  Belle stared into his face. There could be no denying the attraction she felt for him. The pit of her stomach felt tight just at the thought. It would be so easy to take him into her bed. Just for tonight. Where was the harm? No one would know …

  The baby started to cry and Sally’s footsteps thudded overhead. The danger was over. Belle looked at the clock. ‘Time for bed.’

  Dickie raised an expectant grin. ‘An’ here’s me about to say what an ungenerous body you are.’

  ‘There’s some sheets in that cupboard; take what you need.’ With this abrupt ending she went off to her own bed, thinking that it was going to be a very long night.

  Dickie sat there for an hour after she had gone before getting some sheets out and making himself a bed. He should have been tired out with all the running he’d done, but he couldn’t get to sleep and proceeded to light one cigarette after another, taking them from Belle’s packet. A bed creaked. He thought of Dusty and the children, and thought, and thought…

  He must have dozed finally, though, for when he opened his eyes the room was bright with sun. Yawning, he craned his stiff neck to squint at the clock. It was only six. He sat up and remained in this position for a while, kneading his aching shoulder muscles. A sniff of his bare armpit brought a grimace. Tossing aside the crumpled sheet, he went to the kitchen and used a dishcloth to wash his body, then splashed some water on his face. Reaching for the towel, he rubbed it briskly over his eyes to aid consciousness. When he removed the towel a small figure was standing watching him.

  Dickie groaned. ‘A bit early for you to be awake, isn’t it?’

  ‘You’re awake,’ contradicted Frederick.

  ‘Am I? I seem to be havin’ some sort o’ nightmare, keep seein’ this bloody apparition in front of me.’ He shoved the boy out of his path and went to get his shirt which he had laid over the back of a chair with the rest of his clothes; he wore only his underpants at the moment.

  Fred watched. ‘What’re them?’ Dickie paused in the action of pulling the shirt over his head. ‘Them hairy things under your arms.’

  ‘They’re bloody paintbrushes, what d’ye think they are?’

  ‘What’re they for?’

  ‘How the hell do I know? Ask God.’

  ‘I haven’t got any under my arms,’ said Fred. His adoptive father mumbled something as he brought the shirt down over his naked torso. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I said, you’ll no doubt grow some if ye live long enough, which is unlikely, the way ye keep sneakin’ up on folk.’

  ‘You’ve got ’em on your legs an’ all,’ observed Fred as the man reached for his trousers.

  With an exasperated laugh, Dickie shook the trousers straight and slipped his legs in, using a hand to ram the tail of the shirt down under his buttocks. After donning his jacket, he visited the outside closet, then took out a comb and with knees bent – for the mirror was set low to accommodate Belle – he ran it through his hair. Fred seemed captivated by the man’s handsomeness.

  ‘What’s that mark on your head?’ It was something the boy had been meaning to ask for a while.

  Dickie traced the L-shaped scar on his forehead. ‘Somebody knifed me.’ Whilst performing his toilet, Dickie had come to a decision on how to get to Leeds. With enough for the train fare he would check the railway station first, then if that proved too dangerous he could set off on foot and maybe hitch a lift on the way. As contingency for this, he took several items of food from Belle’s larder, stuffing them into one of her bags.

  ‘Are you getting my breakfast ready?’ asked the boy.

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Well what are you having for yours?’

  ‘Bread an’ water,’ replied Dickie. ‘I’m practising.’

  ‘What can I have, then?’

  In answer, Dickie flung a bread roll at him. ‘Stick some jam on that. I haven’t time to be seeing to you.’

  ‘Where y’off?’ Fred did not eat the roll but played with it like a ball. The man told him it was a secret. ‘Can I come?’ His father said no.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘’Cause the police will lock y’up if they catch ye with me.’

  ‘I’m not bothered,’ said Frederick.

  ‘Well, I am – ye don’t think I want to be stuck in gaol listening to your daft questions for twenty years, do ye?’

  ‘Why’re you mad at me?’

  Dickie stopped to look at the woebegone face. ‘I’m sorry, son … I never was very good company first thing on a morning. I’m not mad at ye, but I haven’t a lot o’ time, that’s all.’ He continued to pack his requirements into the bag.

  ‘Why do they want to put you in gaol?’

  ‘They think I did something bad.’

  ‘But you didn’t, did you?’

  ‘Now, would your father do anything bad? Listen, ye do want me to be your father, don’t ye?’ At Frederick’s eager nod he added, ‘Then ye have to help me get away. The thing is, Fred, I need some more money.’

  ‘You can have all mine,’ said the boy generously.

  ‘Good lad, go fetch it.’ While the boy was gone, Dickie made rapid examination of all the vases and other receptacles on the mantel. The loose silver he turned up amounted to less than a pound. He spun as Fred returned. ‘Ah, let’s see.’ He held out his palm to receive the boy’s wordly wealth – threepence. He snorted and offered exaggerated thanks. ‘Can ye tell me where your Aunt Belle keeps her money? She was going to lend me some this morning but I have to leave now an’ I don’t want to wake her.’

  ‘It’s in that pot on the mantel,’ Fred told him.

  ‘Is there none anywhere else?’ When he received a vaca
nt shake of head, he swore under his breath and made ready to leave.

  Fred walked with him to the rear exit. ‘What time will you be coming back for me?’

  ‘What?’ Dickie swung round with an impatient expression. ‘Oh … I’m not sure. It depends if I can escape these policemen.’

  ‘If I come with you I can help you escape.’

  ‘No, ’tis best if you stay here.’ Without further argument, Dickie left.

  Immediately, Freddie ran to get his trousers, struggled into them and scrambled back downstairs. No one heard the door go. Two more hours passed before Belle discovered that not only had Uncle Dickie vanished, but Freddie had gone too.

  * * *

  ‘The wretch!’ complained Belle to Sally when it was confirmed that the boy was not in the house. ‘I hide him at great risk to myself and this is what he does. Well, just let him try to leave the country with that boy. America or no, I’ll have him hunted down. In fact, I’m going to the police right now!’

  ‘Ooh, d’you think you should?’ queried Sally. ‘It’ll mean having to explain why you waited till now to report he was here – and Freddie might just be hiding.’

  ‘Of course he’s not! It’s obvious to an imbecile that Dickie’s taken him. He knew I’d never let him have the children legally.’ She became thoughtful. ‘Still, you’re right about the police. I don’t want to be caught up in questioning for hours … but I’m going round to Peashohne straight after lessons to speak to that wife of his! And I want you to stay in the house to guard those girls. I wouldn’t put it past him to sneak back for them.’

  After eating breakfast, the children had been told to sit quietly with their schoolbooks in the front parlour until Belle came. While she was heading for this room, the doorknocker sounded. She shouted to Sally, ‘I’ll get it!’ then faltered, thinking that perhaps it might be the police. But remembering that this was rent month, she realised who it would be and finally answered it.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Teale!’ The landlord, a heavy- jowled, pasty-looking man in a checked suit, doffed his hat.

  ‘Oh, hello, Mr Clark, I’ll just get your money.’ She started to reverse along the passage.

  ‘Er …’ He held up a delaying hand. ‘I ought to tell you that I’ve had to raise your rent, Miss Teale.’

  Belle set her chin at him. ‘Oh yes, and why’s that?’

  Clark’s smile was rather condescending, she thought. ‘Well, you’ve been here now … let’s see, five or six years, haven’t you?’ He received a curt nod. ‘You wouldn’t expect to be paying the same rent as when you first moved in, now would you?’

  ‘I must say, it’s short notice,’ snapped Belle.

  ‘I was going to broach the subject last month, but you weren’t in.’

  No, that’s right, thought Belle, remembering how she had sent Sally to the door, I was keeping out of your way. ‘So how much is the increase?’ she demanded.

  ‘Five shillings,’ replied Clark evenly.

  Her response was incredulous. ‘What! A five shilling increase?’

  Clark donned a look of mild rebuke. ‘If I may say so, the property’s much improved to what it was when I first let it to you, Miss Teale.’

  Belle performed a gasping laugh at this audacity. ‘And who made the improvements, might one ask? This place was virtually ramshackle when I moved in. By rights you ought to be dropping my rent. Through my hard work I’ve made your property worth twice as much!’

  ‘That’s not the point, Miss Teale. I can hardly get twice as much for it while you’re in, can I? Besides… there’s another matter I wanted to discuss.’ He shuffled uncomfortably. ‘It’s about the men you have here.’

  Belle’s lower jaw fell open. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Don’t misunderstand!’ he hastened to explain. ‘I’ve no wish to pry. What you do is your own business. But if you’re taking in lodgers …’

  ‘I am not taking in lodgers! If you are referring to the gentleman who admitted you the last time you were here, then that happens to be my uncle.’

  ‘That’s fine, fine,’ said Clark, nodding casually. ‘I’ve said I don’t mind who you have here … Is the other gentleman your uncle as well?’ She asked, which other gentleman. ‘The one who’s been seen coming out of here on a morning.’

  ‘How dare you! How dare you spy on me!’

  ‘There’s no question of spying, Miss Teale, I’m only trying to protect my livelihood. I set your rent at a low price on the premise that this was a charitable organisation, an orphanage, but if you’re taking in lodgers …’

  ‘Rubbish!’ Accompanying Belle’s declaration, a tiny remnant of her breakfast shot from her mouth and landed on Clark’s lapel, but her embarrassment at this was concealed by the fact that her face was already crimson with anger. ‘The rent was so low because it was a hovel! Nobody else would live in it! It’s only now when you’ve been allowed to see the results of all my slaving that you’ve decided to take advantage of me! Well, you can go sing for it! I’m not paying it – and I am not taking in lodgers!’

  Clark leaned a pudgy hand on the door jamb. Belle noticed with distaste that his nails were filthy. ‘I’m afraid if you won’t pay it I’ll have to give you a month’s notice to quit.’

  ‘You think I’m staying here after being so insulted?’ she hurled, eyes darting sporadically between his face and the piece of breakfast on his collar. ‘I can assure you, my good man, I don’t require a month or even a week. I shall be out of this house by tonight! I wouldn’t want to deprive you of the extra five shillings you can extort from some other poor dupe!’ He opened his mouth but Belle didn’t give him time to speak. ‘And please don’t have the gall to demand this month’s rent! I’ve always paid a month in advance. We’re straight. Good day!’ She slammed the door in his face and lurched angrily down the passage, shouting at Sally, ‘Did you hear that? Did you hear the insinuations he was making? The maggot-faced pig! Come on, don’t stand there! We have to get packing, I’ve told him we’ll be out by tonight.’ She herself was already piling books together, snatching pictures from the wall.

  ‘So I gathered.’ Sally looked on in alarm. ‘That was a bit rash, wasn’t it? How’re we going to get all this shifted by tonight – and more precisely, where to?’

  Belle slammed another book on the pile, then leaned heavily on it. ‘Oh, God … men. And one wretch of a man in particular! If he hadn’t let Clark in …’ She tutted. ‘I couldn’t stay here, Sally, after he’d said what he did. He was almost leering!’ She mimicked Clark, ‘“What you get up to here is your own business” . . . the filthy, lousy – oh come on! It’s no use moaning. I’ve done it now. We’ll have to get packed.’ Puffing, she put her hands on her hips and looked around her. There would have to be a strict method if all were to be done by tonight. ‘First we have to have a removal van …’

  ‘I’ll let you do the organising,’ said Sally, launching into action. ‘I’ll make a start on the donkey work. We could do with Cedric here.’ The strapping lad, one of Belle’s first orphans, worked at Thomasin’s factory. ‘What d’you want the others to do?’

  ‘They can gather their personal belongings and clothes together and put them in the big trunk.’ Belle sighed exasperatedly. ‘The only trunk. What won’t go in there will have to be knotted in sheets – anyway, I’d better get this removal van sorted out first.’ She rushed off.

  When she returned with the news that a van would be calling this afternoon, the seven children had already been put to work. ‘But where’re we going?’ asked Anna from behind a pile of towels, tablecloths and curtains.

  Tve decided we’ll go to Peasholme, just until I can get somewhere else of my own,’ said Belle, rolling up her sleeves. I’ve arranged to have the furniture stored so there’ll just be bodies for Nan to put up.’

  ‘You’ve been and asked her?’ Sally finished unhooking the curtain and stepped down off her perch.

  ‘No time. She won’t mind, anyway. Besides, the children�
�ll take her mind off her wretched son.’ Belle grabbed a pile of newspapers and started to wrap the ornaments that had been taken off the mantel. ‘Where did you put the money out of here?’ She held up a jug.

  Sally looked at her meaningfully. ‘I didn’t have to put it anywhere – it had already gone. The other pots were empty too.’

  This information didn’t take long to sink in. ‘The swindling blood-sucking… it’s just as well I didn’t have to pay the rent then! A good job I keep my purse under my pillow, too – though some people are trying to make out that that’s the most accessible place of all!’

  * * *

  It had been a mistake to set off so early. Dickie felt very vulnerable as he made his way through the sparsely-populated streets to the railway station. Each corner was approached with caution, lest a policeman be lurking behind it. However, he reached the outer walls of the city without mishap, and proceeded under the stone arch towards his goal.

  He was almost past the Cholera graves when he heard something behind him and spun round. There was no one in sight, but he sensed their presence. With growing unease he paid closer heed to the iron fencing that edged the graveyard. The presence manifested itself, attempting to blend with the railings but not quite thin enough to do so. He was almost relieved to see it was Frederick.

  ‘You little… I oughta tan your backside – in fact I will!’ He grabbed the boy round the waist and upturned him, using one arm to imprison whilst the other administered three hearty smacks. That done, he dropped the child back on his feet. ‘I hope you realise this has added kidnapping to the bloody charges now!’

  Frederick, bottom stinging, set his mouth in defiance. ‘I don’t like you any more. I’m not having you as me dad!’