No Peace for the Wicked

by Pip Granger

  ‘I’ll nip upstairs and break the news to Bandy.’ Sugar ran up the stairs two at a time, leaving just a hint of Shalimar hovering on the air. I did as I was told and went down to the bar.

  I dialled the cafe and waited, sitting at the bar staring at the rings, ancient and modern, left by damp glasses. I was in a daze. Was I responsible? Had I upset Peace in some way that I was unaware of? Where was she? Then I thought it was all my fault. How could I have lost another child? How could I have been so careless? Luckily Bert picked up his receiver, which stopped any more questions from arising to torture my already fevered brain.

  ‘Bert Featherby here, and it’d better be bloody good at this time of night.’

  ‘It’s Lizzie Robbins, Bert. Have you seen Peace this evening? She’s missing.’

  He must have heard the fright in my voice, as his voice took on an edge. ‘Christ! She was in as usual to do her shift. She had her tea, plaice, chips and peas. Then she left.’

  ‘Was she … you know … all right? Did she seem funny in any way? You know, secretive or anything?’ I didn’t really know what to ask.

  ‘No, I don’t think so. No more than usual, anyway. She’s always a bit quiet, like. But I don’t really get to chat much when the tea rush is on. Maggie’d be the one to notice anything peculiar. Hang on a tick; I’ll get her.’

  I sat and traced patterns in a damp patch on the bar as I waited, then scrubbed them away in a panic, when I realized I’d spelt out ‘Jenny’. Tears welled up and I thought I was going to choke for a moment. I put the receiver down and poured myself a glass of water, took a sip, felt better and picked it up again to hear Maggie’s voice saying, ‘Hello, hello. Is there anybody there? Hello …’

  ‘I’m sorry Maggie, I was getting some water,’ I croaked, then took a sip and resumed. ‘Did Bert tell you why I was calling?’

  ‘Yes, he did. Peace did seem a bit jumpy, as it happens. Just picked at her tea, and that girl usually has a healthy appetite, even being so small. The other funny thing, she asked if she could have her next week’s wages early, said there was a birthday present she wanted to buy. It seemed reasonable.’ Maggie’s voice died away.

  I felt a lump forming in my throat, then I heard Maggie’s voice again. ‘I’ve just remembered. I saw Peace and Rosie in a huddle, just before Peace sat down for her tea. Rosie nipped out for a bit, maybe twenty minutes, half an hour, no more. P’raps that had something to do with it. Shall I ask her?’

  I thought it’d be a good idea.

  ‘I’ll call you back,’ she said. ‘Are you at Bandy’s? I’ll call back, I promise.’ She hung up.

  I got Cassie’s number from the tattered notebook of telephone numbers Sugar kept under the bar and asked the operator to put me through.

  I was just settling down to some seriously morbid and frightening thoughts when Cassie saved me by croaking, ‘Yes?’ into my ear.

  ‘Cassie?’

  ‘Yes. Who’s that?’

  ‘Lizzie from the bar. Is T.C. there?’

  ‘What if he is? What’s it to you?’ Cassie sounded belligerent.

  ‘Sugar says will he come. We have an emergency,’ I explained.

  ‘I’ve got my troubles over here, you know. Can’t you sort it out without him?’ Cassie’s voice was sharp.

  I heard the rumble of a man’s voice in the background, a brief scuffle then, ‘For Christ’s sake, Cassie, give me the bloody phone.’ There was another scuffle, then T.C.’s voice boomed in my ear. ‘Hello, who is it, and what’s the matter?’

  I explained again. T.C. listened in silence, then he said, ‘I see. I’ll be right over. Tell Sugar that I’m on my way.’ And the telephone went dead. I could think of nothing else to do but sit and wait. I suddenly felt as if all my bones had turned to jelly and that if I attempted to stand, I’d collapse in a heap.

  So I decided to wait for the others to arrive, and tried to stem the flow of images of Peace dead in the gutter. Then the stories in the Sunday papers came to mind. They detailed the activities of white slavers who took innocent girls off the street and sent them God knew where to be sold as sex slaves.

  My thoughts were shattered by T.C., who burst through the door. ‘Where is everyone? What’s this I hear about Peace? What the hell’s going on?’

  I had just finished telling T.C., when Bandy arrived. Sugar was close on her heels and Malcolm was bringing up the rear.

  ‘Where the fuck’s my niece?’ Bandy demanded, glowering at me as if I was deliberately hiding the girl from her.

  I shook my head, unable to speak. I felt this awful sense of dread, which I recognized as exactly the same feeling I’d had when I took Jenny through the doors of Great Ormond Street Hospital for the very first time. It seemed to gnaw at my stomach, clutch at my heart and grab me by the throat all at the same time.

  Bandy’s eyes blazed and a dark red stain began to move up from her neck to her face, her lips twisted into something resembling a snarl and she made to leap at me, hands outstretched as if to finish the choking job that the dread had already started. T.C. stepped between us and faced Bandy down until she took an unsteady step backwards, her eyes still fixed on me.

  Sugar took a firm grip of Bandy’s elbow and steered her to a table. ‘Sit!’ he instructed in a voice that wasn’t about to take ‘No’ for an answer. Bandy sat. He turned: ‘You too, Malcolm. Let’s all sit down, keep our tempers and our nerves and work things through in a logical fashion.’

  Everyone sat, except T.C., who went to the cubbyhole next to the bar, filled the kettle and put it on to boil. ‘Tea, I think. It won’t fuddle brains or fuel tempers like gin.’ Nobody said a word until T.C. was seated and everyone had a cup in front of them. Both Bandy and Malcolm opened their mouths once or twice, but closed them again at a look from Sugar. Finally, Sugar invited T.C. to take charge of the proceedings. He nodded and turned to me.

  ‘Start at the beginning, Lizzie, and tell us in your own words what happened.’

  I opened my mouth to explain, but Bandy barged in, ‘She’s let my niece wander off to God knows where, that’s what happened,’ she exploded.

  I had never seen Sugar so angry. He was usually such a gentle soul.

  ‘Bandy, will you, for once in your miserable bloody life, take responsibility for your own cock-ups? If you had been at work, Liz wouldn’t have been covering for you at the club. If you had trusted your sodding boyfriend, you wouldn’t have off-loaded Peace on to Lizzie in the first place and finally …’

  Sugar took a deep breath, only to be interrupted by Malcolm. ‘I don’t think you should bring me into it, old chap. What do you mean, if she trusted me?’

  Sugar ignored him. ‘And finally, if your brains weren’t so bloody gin- and sex-sodden, you wouldn’t have accused Peace of stealing from you in the first place and she would be safely tucked up in bed right now! So, let T.C. get on with it, keep your bloody mouth shut until it’s got something useful to say and for Christ’s sake, sling that stinking bastard out on his arse, so that we can get on with the job in hand!’

  Bandy sat with her mouth open, the ugly red stain having drained away, leaving her face white and stricken. Malcolm’s mouth opened and shut but no sound came. T.C. looked suitably impressed by Sugar’s summing up, but I was bewildered. What did Sugar mean about Bandy accusing Peace of theft? I asked the question into a deafening silence.

  As if Sugar in a temper wasn’t enough of a shock, what came next should go into the annals of history. Bandy took a gulp of tea, several deep breaths, stiffened her spine and looked around her as if seeing clearly for the first time that night. But I noticed that she didn’t answer the question.

  ‘You’re absolutely right, Sugar,’ she said, as if no one had spoken since Sugar’s outburst. Her voice shook slightly. ‘Elizabeth, I apologize. No one can keep tabs on a sixteen-year-old girl twenty-four hours a day, especially not a Bunyan girl. We tend towards wilful.

  ‘Malcolm, bugger off home, there’s a good chap. I’ll ring you wh
en this mess is cleaned up.’

  Malcolm began to bluster. ‘Oh, I say old girl, are you sure? I could help, perhaps?’

  Bandy smiled wanly. ‘You’re a distraction, Malcolm. Sugar’s right. I haven’t kept my eye on the ball, and it’s time I did. My niece has run away and I am responsible. Not you – me. I’ll telephone you. Now fuck off, there’s a good fellow.’ Bandy made a shooing motion with her hands, as if sweeping him out of the door.

  Malcolm looked exactly like an oversized and very hairy small child as he trailed towards the door of the club. I’m certain his lower lip was thrust out in a pout as he stopped in the doorway. ‘Are you sure?’

  Bandy smiled weakly at him, her voice surprisingly gentle. ‘I’m sure, Malcolm. I can’t function normally when you’re around.’ She grew firmer. ‘Now fuck off and let us get on with it. I’ll ring you in a day or two.’

  ‘Well don’t leave it too long, I might not be waiting if you do,’ he said stiffly, and left.

  Sugar, T.C. and I sighed with relief. Somehow, a lot of the ugly tension left the room with Malcolm, and we were able to concentrate on the real problem.

  The telephone rang. Bandy’s face lit up. ‘Perhaps that’s her,’ she said, hope making her voice sing out above the jangling.

  ‘It could be Maggie,’ I said. ‘She was going to call back to report what Rosie knows, if anything.’

  ‘I’ll get it, shall I?’ T.C. said, not waiting for the answer but vaulting the bar and landing nimbly beside the telephone. ‘Hello?’ He paused. ‘Hello, Maggie. T.C. here.’ He glanced over at our table and shrugged apologetically; we’d all been holding our breath, willing it to be Peace at the end of the line. T.C listened carefully, interjecting the odd ‘Hmm’ and ‘I see’. At last he hung up and walked thoughtfully back to the table.

  ‘Maggie’s sure that Rosie knows more than she’s letting on but it’s too early in the morning to grill her properly. She suggested I drop in for breakfast and question Rosie myself. Seems as good an idea as any. Does anyone have any idea who her friends are?’ We all shook our heads. ‘Are you sure? Did she ever mention anyone, even in passing? School friends, anyone?’

  ‘Well, there’s Beatrice and Angela, but I know they’re away for the weekend,’ I said.

  Sugar sighed. ‘She did mention the milk bar, meeting a friend in the milk bar, but I don’t recall her saying who that was. Do you, Band?’

  Bandy shook her head. ‘All we ever do is argue. Chatting about her pals never comes up. I’m not very good at small talk, young gels, that kind of thing. I wasn’t any good at it when I was a young gel, damn it, and I’m buggered if I’ve improved a single jot over time.’

  She took a deep breath and finally answered the question. ‘My pearls are missing from my dressing table and I accused Peace of stealing them yesterday morning. I don’t know what got into me. I was in a foul mood and I lashed out. It was wrong of me. I didn’t really believe it at the time.’ Bandy looked at Sugar across the table, eyes soft. ‘I’ve been a stinker, haven’t I?’

  ‘An absolute cow, Band,’ Sugar assured her. ‘But there’s no reason you can’t make it up to her when we get her back,’ he added bracingly. He took her hand in his and gave it a little squeeze. ‘She’s not the first teenaged girl to get into a paddy and do a runner and she’ll not be the last. We’ll find her, never fear.’

  17

  If I hadn’t been so devastated and frightened myself, I’d have found the sight both remarkable and touching. I don’t think I’d ever seen Bandy cry before, but she was crying now. She simply couldn’t forgive herself for accusing Peace of theft.

  ‘I was tired and I wasn’t fully awake. She’d nipped in to run an iron over her work clothes. She said something about the electricity running out downstairs and she couldn’t find a shilling for the meter.’

  I immediately felt terrible. If I’d stocked up the meter pig, none of this would have happened. I kept a piggy bank by the gas and electricity meters and stuffed it full of shillings on pay day, so that we had light and warmth for the week. But I hadn’t had any change on Friday night, so I’d left it until I got home from work on Saturday lunchtime, after I’d been shopping in the market and had changed a ten-bob note into ten shiny shilling pieces at the post office.

  ‘We’d been to see Flanders and Swann, you see,’ Bandy continued. ‘I’d worn my pearls because we were going on to the backstage bunfight afterwards, so I thought I’d tart myself up a bit.’ Poor Bandy sounded so desolate as she related her miserable tale that my heart ached for her. ‘Michael had invited us yonks ago and we were looking forward to it.’

  I realized that she meant Michael Flanders. He and Donald Swann came to the club whenever they were performing locally. Lots of performers did, it was somewhere open after the theatres closed and often they were too wound up and excited to want to go straight home to bed.

  ‘I had a hangover. Malcolm and I had had a set-to about some woman we’d bumped into in the bar at the intermission – she was far too bloody friendly in my view – and I was still disgruntled when Peace woke me up crashing about with the ironing board.’ Bandy paused again and stared blindly at the floor. I saw Sugar give her shoulders a reassuring squeeze.

  ‘Now, I know I left my pearls in the bathroom when I took my slap off ready for bed, along with my matching earrings. Anyway, once I’d been woken up I went to the bathroom to spend a penny and realized that the pearls and earrings had gone. I searched thoroughly, but they weren’t there. That’s when I lost my temper with Peace and somehow I managed to accuse her of stealing them.’ Bandy’s head dropped into her hands and her shoulders heaved.

  T.C.’s voice was gentle. ‘Then what happened?’

  ‘She denied it, of course. We had words and then she had it away on her toes. Said she was going to be late for work, slammed the front door behind her and buggered off,’ Bandy whispered into the silence.

  T.C. nodded, patted Bandy’s back gently but absentmindedly then squared his shoulders and took charge.

  ‘Right, I’ll question Rosie as soon as she’s up and taking notice in the morning. Meanwhile, I think we should report Peace missing. Lizzie, will you check her room again thoroughly and see if anything has gone? We need to know if Peace went willingly, in which case she would have packed, unless she was too upset, or whether she’s been taken, in which case everything should be as she left it.’

  I hurried back upstairs. It was a relief to be doing something. I checked Peace’s wardrobe – surely not as full as before? I riffled through the hangers frantically. My hand trembled as I tried to remember some of her clothes. Her blue jersey dress had gone and the dark green, tweed skirt with the slanted pockets that she liked to wear with a neat, cream twin-set. That wasn’t there either.

  I wrenched open her drawers. Her underwear was missing, along with the cream twin-set and some other jumpers. Her suitcase was gone from under her bed and her toothbrush wasn’t in the bathroom. Finally, after I’d checked the kitchen from top to bottom for the umpteenth time, I had to concede that there was no note from Peace. I slumped in a chair with my head in my hands. I had been so sure that there’d be a note somewhere. Usually Peace left her notes to me propped between the teapot and my favourite cup and saucer, because she knew that I was gasping for my first cuppa every morning and that I’d be at it again in the evenings as soon as I got in from work. I simply couldn’t believe that the sweet girl I knew would be so unkind as to leave without a word, I had been so sure that her note had fallen to the floor and lodged itself under the cooker or somewhere, but it obviously hadn’t. There was no note. I heaved a sigh and got to my feet, I had to report back to the others.

  I reached the bottom of the stairs and was just about to push the club door open when I noticed something white on the street door mat. Someone had delivered a letter at some point and not one of us had noticed. I bent to pick it up and recognized Peace’s handwriting on the envelope. My heart lurched as I tore it open and began to scan the
contents.

  Dear Aunt Liz,

  I have gone away. I know that Aunt never really wanted me here and that I have been a very big trouble to her, so it is the best thing to do. Do not worry for me, I am going with someone who loves and wants me very much and who will take care of me.

  Thank you very much for everything you have done for me. You have been so kind and I shall never forget you. I hope that fortune will smile on you and that you too will find happiness once again.

  Please thank Mr Sugar as well, he too has been very kind to me. Please give Rosie my red padded silk jacket and thank Mr and Mrs Featherby for everything. I shall hold the memory of you all in my mind and in my heart for ever. Peace.

  P.S. I hope Mr T.C. learns to love you very, very soon and then neither of you need to be so lonely any more.

  I sat down heavily on a kitchen chair and stared blankly at my yellow table top. Selfishly, all I could think of at first was that I would be sitting there alone again and how much I would miss her. I’m not sure how long I sat but when I heard footsteps on the stair, the note in my hand was streaked with tears and virtually unreadable. I stuffed it hastily in a drawer and looked up in time to see T.C. and Bandy framed in the doorway.

  ‘She’s packed her underwear, some clothes and her toothbrush,’ I told them and heard a sob from Bandy. ‘It looks like she meant to go.’ I wondered how on earth I was going to tell them about Peace’s note, without going through the mortification of letting T.C. or, indeed, anyone else, read it. In the end I decided to tell the truth. ‘Peace left a note saying that she’s gone with someone who loves her and that she trusts enough to care for her.’

  ‘Can we read it?’ T.C. asked, ‘It might help us to track her down.’

  I shook my head, ‘I’m sorry, it’s too personal, she didn’t mean me to let anyone else read it.’