With Lottie lying heavily at his feet, he sat for a time, thinking and planning, not sure how he might go about locating her. Where would he look? Who could he ask? Of one thing he was sure. If ever he was to bring her back into the family fold, now was the time.
He thought of Nancy and of what she might say when she knew he’d been in search of Judy. ‘I’m sorry, Nancy,’ he murmured angrily, ‘but whether you like it or not, I can’t rest until I find your sister!’
A short time later he put on his boots, whistled to Lottie, locked up the house and set off down the lane. ‘Let’s go do some serious thinking, eh, girl?’ he chatted to the dog as he went. ‘First of all, I can never imagine Judy straying too far from her roots, because she was that kind of homely soul.’
He churned over every possibility in his mind, then passed it all by the dog, who too often was far ahead chasing rabbits or splashing in the water.
‘Hey! Come here!’ Seeing Lottie peering through the hen-coop to where the chickens were frantically cackling, he called her back. ‘You’ll frighten ’em off their egg-laying, staring at ’em like that with your beady red eyes!’
So the dog trotted alongside, content to go with Don, over the heathland and down to the canal, where Don sat for a time, skimming stones into the water and formulating a plan in his mind. ‘I’m sure Judy will have stayed round these parts,’ he told his trusty companion. ‘She’ll be somewhere between Fisher’s Hill and Bedford town, I just know it.’
He thought it through. ‘She loved the Old Bedford River, I do know that much, and she was always a curious, busy little thing, so she’ll have got work, and a place to live … maybe somewhere in the vicinity of the river.’
He felt confident, that he would find her. ‘Make no mistake, I will find her!’ he told Lottie, who panted in reply.
Then he had another thought – and it was not a pleasant one. God forbid she’d tied herself to the devil who put her in the family way!
Whenever he thought of the man responsible, he wanted to strangle him with his bare hands. Then there was the child, who by now would be what … seventeen?
So many years, he thought sadly. And then: what if the father had turned his back on his baby, as Don had turned his back on Judy? A cold fear engulfed him. Had she been left to bring the child into the world, all on her own?
When he thought of the worry and heartache his adored daughter might have endured, his guilt was tenfold.
‘Morning, Don.’ The bargee’s voice sailed across to him. ‘Forgot yer fishing rod, ’ave yer?’ The man was huge, with a round belly and round face, and a quiff of grey hair standing up on the top of his otherwise bald head.
‘Morning, Ed.’ Don returned the greeting. ‘I’m not fishing this morning,’ he explained. ‘Got Lottie with me, see, and she’s a devil with the barking. I might come back later on, and leave her at home.’
‘Ah! So I might see you on me way back then?’
‘You might. You might not.’
‘Well, if you’re still here, you can come aboard and share a drop of ale with me.’
‘Sounds good. Thanks, Ed.’
‘See you then.’
‘Yeah, see you, Ed.’
Don waved as the other man went out of sight. ‘He’s one of the old sort,’ he told the dog. ‘Sound as a pound!’
Chatting with Ed had lifted his spirits, and oddly enough, had made him all the more determined to find Judy.
‘Come on, old girl!’ Bringing the bitch to heel, Don turned to retrace his steps. ‘We’ve got things to do.’
The phone was ringing as he came into the house. Don had never got used to the blessed thing. ‘Hello?’ he answered warily.
It was Nancy. ‘Hello, Dad, it’s only me. Just to let you know that Uncle Mac and Rita have gone now, and we’ve got the house to ourselves.’
‘That’s nice.’
‘Oh, and I’m sorry if I upset you … about Judy.’
‘Mmm.’ He was still riled by her harsh words. ‘So you take back what you said then, do you?’
‘No! I can never take it back. I still believe she’s living in sin with that man in some filthy dump, content with her lot, and not caring a hoot about the rest of us. I’m just sorry that you and I had a falling-out about it. I could see you were upset.’
Don did not want this discussion. ‘Best forget about it, eh?’ he said gruffly.
There was a span of silence before Nancy asked, ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine. Why shouldn’t I be?’
‘So, have you really forgiven me?’
‘Nothing to forgive,’ he assured her. ‘Water under the bridge and all that.’
‘All the same, it’s infuriating how she can still get you and me upset, after all this time.’
Swiftly ending the conversation, Don told her, ‘Got to go now. Me and Lottie have been for a walk. She got in the canal and now she needs cleaning up.’
Nancy laughed. ‘Little devil! All right, we’ll talk some time in the week. Okay?’
‘Yes, okay, Nancy. Say hello to Brian, and give my love to the children. Bye then.’ He quickly dropped the receiver into its cradle.
Now that his mind was made up, he didn’t want to waste a single minute. Bringing the dog inside, he locked the outer door, then went upstairs to his room, with the dog following hard on his heels. ‘No, girl!’ He gestured to the bottom of the stairs. ‘You go down and guard the front door and leave me to my business.’
While the dog reluctantly trundled downstairs, Don made for the wardrobe, from where he collected his suitcase.
In the zip part at the back, he found half his life tucked safely away; fond letters from his wife; a smaller version of their wedding photograph; cards he’d taken to her while she was in hospital and four cherished trinkets of her jewellery: wedding, engagement and eternity rings and a pretty blue necklace he’d bought for their twenty-fifth anniversary.
As he touched each and every one of Norma’s possessions, the memories came alive, and he was momentarily saddened. But then he found the other batch of photographs and he became excited. Taking them out, he looked at each one individually; there was himself and his wife at the seaside soon after they were married; then the one with their first child, Nancy.
‘Somewhere in here there should be …’ He drew out an envelope. ‘Eureka!’ This was what he’d been searching for: a fat brown envelope, positively bulging with mementoes.
He rummaged through the collection, until he found what he was looking for – photos of Judy as a baby, then as a toddler, and now she was dressed in her very first school uniform. The one he had in mind was a later one, taken in the garden of this very house during a visit to see Nancy, just a month before Judy gave them her devastating news.
‘It’s got to be in here somewhere,’ he mused. ‘Thank goodness I didn’t listen to Nancy and throw the lot out.’ His elder daughter could be cold of heart when she set her mind to it, he thought.
Ah! Here it was! Jubilant, he drew the single photo from the batch. The last one he ever took of her, it was a lovely, natural photograph of Judy, looking impossibly young and naïve. She was wearing a lemon, daisy-patterned dress. Her long fair hair was down to her waist and she was laughing. How could she be laughing? Against his instincts, Don felt a surge of disgust. Looking as though she had not a care in the world, when she must have known she was about to shatter all their lives!
In the photograph, the sun was shining much like today. Don had acquired a new camera that very morning, together with a yearning to capture photos of his family together, at a time when everything was so precarious as the clouds of war gathered.
For an age he stared at Judy’s image, the tears filling his eyes and the pain of her departure draining his heart. ‘You were such a pretty little thing,’ he whispered, the tips of his fingers tracing her face, as he fondly recalled that day. He wondered, with a stab of agony, what his younger daughter looked like now, eighteen long years later.
A lifetime
.
When suddenly Lottie began whining to be let out, Don slid the photograph into his pocket, replaced the suitcase and hurried downstairs. ‘What’s wrong, you bad girl? Can’t you wait a few minutes while I sort myself out?’ Tutting, he unlocked the door and threw it open. ‘Go on then! And don’t go running off, mind. I need you to guard this house while I’m gone.’
He watched the dog disappear behind the shrubbery, and realising it might be some time before she emerged, he went to the kitchen and made himself a fresh pot of tea, which he took out to the garden, along with a packet of biscuits and a cup with a saucer. He could think better with a hot drink inside him.
‘I need to decide how to go about it,’ he muttered to himself. ‘It’s no use just going into Bedford, and wandering about aimlessly.’
He wondered where he should start, then remembered: the river, that’s where he’d go first.
When a short time later, Lottie came lumbering up the path, he quickly shut her in the kitchen. ‘You behave yourself now!’ he said through the door. ‘I’ve no idea how long I’ll be, but you’ve no need to worry. You’ve a bowl of water in there, and a small handful of biscuits. That’s enough to keep you going, till I get back.’
In the hallway he grabbed his coat from the hook in case the weather turned unexpectedly nasty, as it often did.
‘Good Lord!’ Glancing at the wall clock he was astonished to see it was almost 5 p.m. But there was plenty of daylight left and the evening was most pleasant. All the same, now that his mind was made up, he needed to get there soon, or the day would be gone and he would be no further forward.
He felt good. With the sun’s warmth on his face and a flicker of hope in his heart, he dared to believe that at long last, he might be able to bring that awful chapter in their lives to a satisfactory close.
Chapter Nine
JUDY LOVED TO look out at the world from her sitting-room window, and this evening was no exception. It had been a beautiful day, and now, just after 6 p.m., it promised to be an equally lovely evening.
The street was busy with men already making their way home from work and children playing. Enjoying the sunshine, they had congregated into little groups; girls playing hopscotch, others skipping, and occasionally the odd one running to meet her daddy as he turned the corner. A short distance away up the street, the boys whizzed about on their bicycles, kicked a football or loitered on the corner, to plan their next big adventure.
From the open window, Judy watched it all, and her heart was sore. Whenever she saw the children, laughing and playing, she recalled the time when she was a child, with loving parents, and a sister she could play with. But that was before.
She thought of another child, illegitimate, a precious creation despite her beginnings. She would remember that child for as long as she lived.
But it was all gone now. Gone for ever – along with any chance she might have had for a contented, normal life.
She let the memories flood in. She thought of her father and her family, and then she thought of that terrible night, when she was turned out of house and home. But she did not blame her mother, such a proud lady, always wary not to become the subject of gossip; her worst fears had been realised, and all because of her younger daughter.
Judy could understand why Norma had been so unforgiving. She could understand a great deal more, now that the years had flowed past. She knew what it was like to be ashamed, and to hit out. She knew what it was like to cry when you were alone at night, or to walk miles and miles, just to get away from the awfulness of what life had become.
She continued to watch the children a while longer, her pretty face uplifted in a smile as they turned to wave at her. She waved back, but it meant nothing really.
She did not know them, and they did not know her.
She was just a stranger at the window.
Closing the window, she turned the volume up on the Dansette record player. ‘Lucky people!’ she kept saying. ‘Lucky, lucky people.’
When Phil arrived home, she was still curled up on the floor, listening to her records and unaware that he had come into the room. ‘You look like a little pixie,’ he told her. ‘The prettiest, daintiest little pixie I’ve ever seen.’ Reaching down, he grabbed her by the shoulders and bounced her into his arms. ‘Well?’
Discreetly rubbing her shoulder where he had dug his fingernails into the flesh, she smiled up at him. ‘Well, what?’
‘Your hardworking hubby wants a kiss, that’s what.’ Grasping a hank of her long, untamed hair he jolted her head back and kissed her full on the mouth; a long, rough kiss that left her feeling bruised.
When she tried to draw away, he held her there. ‘What’s the hurry?’
‘I’ve got your tea in the oven.’ She could tell he’d been drinking. ‘It’s cottage pie … the way you like it, with plenty of onions and the mashed potatoes scooped into crispy little peaks.’
He laughed out loud. ‘Forget all that,’ he leered at her. ‘I’ve got two other crispy little peaks in mind. Matter o’ fact, it’s all I’ve been thinking about.’ Stripping off her blouse, he wrapped his hands around her breasts. ‘This is what I mean!’ His two hands slid down to her buttocks. ‘Soft warm skin between my fingers.’
Undoing her skirt, he let it slither to the floor, then stepped back to look her over. ‘God, you’re so beautiful!’
Licking his lips, he thrust her forward towards the bedroom. When she tried to protest, he grumbled, ‘What’s wrong with you! Had a man here already, have yer?’
‘Stop it, Phil, you know very well I haven’t.’ She was used to his jealous suspicions.
He swung her round hard. ‘I would kill you if you had – you know that, don’t you?’
She nodded.
He shook her hard. ‘HAVE YOU HAD A MAN IN HERE?’
‘No!’ Irritated, she shook him off. ‘I’ve been here on my own all day, cleaning this pig-sty of a place, after the way you left it last night. I’ve asked you not to bring people in here, playing cards and drinking till all hours.’ She took the opportunity to suggest, ‘I should be out working, earning an honest wage, instead of being stuck in here bored out of my mind.’
‘YOU’D BEST SHUT IT!’ He took hold of her. ‘The day I can’t support you, I’ll give up. Besides, I’ve told you before, whenever you’ve gone out to work, there’s always been trouble.’
‘Oh, and don’t I know it.’ She faced him full on. ‘And who starts the trouble, eh? You! It’s you who has this idea that I’m carrying on with every man who looks at me. You think I can’t take care of myself, but I can. I really can!’
‘I don’t want my woman working. Folks will think we need your wages to manage, and I’m not having that. You don’t need to work, not when you’ve got me, and don’t try going behind my back because I’ll know. I’ll make sure no one will take you on ever again, not when I’ve finished with them.’
‘You’re a bully.’
He smiled at that. ‘A bully, am I? Hmm, you seem to be getting very brave all of a sudden. What’s brought this on, eh?’ He prodded her in the chest with his finger. ‘What have you been up to?’
‘I already told you,’ she answered warily. ‘I’ve spent most of the day clearing up after your people.’
‘Them “people”, as you put it, are my friends, and I pay the rent on this flea-pit, so this is my gaff, and I’ll have who I want in here, when I want. Got that, have you?’
Seeing how he was already making a fist, she nodded. ‘Yes, Phil. I’m sorry.’
He smiled, a slow, sinister smile that made her flesh creep. ‘That’s my girl.’ He stroked her face. ‘Now, let’s get on with the other business, shall we?’
Judy shrank inside; she knew exactly what he meant.
Phil Saunders’ idea of lovemaking was not Judy’s.
He took her without feeling. He broke her to him, in a most possessive and cruel way. Not for the first time, Judy wondered why she stayed with him. But then she realised:
hard and brutal though he might be, Phil Saunders was all she had in the whole wide world. It was a shocking and sobering thought.
Later, with his carnal needs duly satisfied, he got out the booze. ‘A toast to us!’ He filled two glasses and handed her one. ‘You and me … the best team ever.’
When she graciously refused, saying, ‘I’ll give it a miss, Phil. I’m not really in the mood for drinking …’ he gave her a warning look that promised a beating, and so she succumbed, and hated him that little bit more.
As always, he drank to excess, then he slept and later, after wolfing down a plateful of reheated cottage pie followed by another generous measure of whisky, he told her gruffly, ‘Get your coat on, we’re off out.’
Judy protested. ‘It’s gone nine o’clock. I thought I might have a bath and an early night.’ She was mentally and emotionally exhausted. Moreover, just now she did not like him enough to want his company. ‘I’m really tired, Phil.’
‘Too bad – I need you with me. Besides, if you’re with me, I’ll know exactly what you’re up to, won’t I?’
‘When will you listen? I’m not “up to” anything!’
‘So you say. The thing is, I’ve arranged to meet up with my pals at the pub, and I like showing you off. It makes ’em jealous.’ Laughing, he slid an arm round her waist. ‘Come on, Judy. Don’t spoil my little bit of pleasure. Look, I promise we won’t stay long. In fact, I might fancy an early night myself … if you get my meaning?’
Judy got his meaning only too well, and with a heavy heart, she made herself ready.
Having trudged the length and breadth of the river, Don stopped off at a café. The waitress was a dainty little thing with a wild mop of wavy hair that reminded him of Sammie. ‘Tea, please,’ he said, ‘… oh, and what sandwiches have you got?’
For the umpteenth time that day she went through the list. ‘We’ve got cheese and onion, egg and cress, beef, pork, chicken and we’ve got ham with chutney. They all come with or without lettuce on white or brown bread.’
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