Born Bad

by Josephine Cox

  A short time later, Judy was washed and tidied up, and comfortable in Pauline’s black low-heeled shoes. ‘I can’t wear them tall things you favour,’ Pauline laughed when Judy shrank another inch. ‘Besides, I’m tall enough as it is.’

  Interrupting their conversation, his voice slurred with booze, Saunders called from the bar. ‘What are you two doing in there? I’m ready for the off. Judy! We’re away now. Say goodbye to Pauline.’

  The two women looked at each other. ‘Tell him no,’ Pauline advised. ‘Tell him I’m taking you out shopping or something.’

  She was disappointed when Judy shook her head.

  ‘Oh, Judy! I thought we’d settled all that … you running at his every command.’ She confronted Judy. ‘I’m worried about you, love. I need you to confide in me, so’s we can put right whatever’s haunting you. I’m here to help you. Phil Saunders is a bully, and I’m so afraid he might hurt you badly one day. Listen to me, please, Judy. You don’t have to do anything he says. And you must not be afraid. It’s what he feeds on.’

  Pauline was puzzled when Judy stared at her for what seemed an age; looking at her yet not looking at her, as though she was turning something over in her mind. ‘I have to go now,’ she said softly, almost to herself. ‘You mustn’t worry, Pauline.’

  ‘Judy! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? MUST I COME IN AND GET YOU?’ His voice grated on their conversation yet again.

  Pauline yelled back, ‘You’d better not come barging in here, matey … not unless you want a frying-pan across your scrawny neck!’ she warned. ‘I’ll have you know, these are our private quarters!’

  Judy slid her two arms round the older woman’s neck. ‘It’s all right,’ she whispered. ‘I promise, I won’t be afraid any more.’

  Finally, after being trodden down by years of guilt and submission, that core of courage, once lost inside her, was beginning to re-emerge.

  As he drove her to the home she had come to detest, she could hear Phil Saunders talking and swearing, and calling her all the filthy names he could lay his tongue to. She thought it strange, how he did not matter any more; she wasn’t even aware of what he was grumbling about. Nor did she notice the dangerous way he drove, swerving and speeding and almost knocking the teatime paper-boy off his bike.

  All she could think of was the distraught look on Harry’s face when she said all those terrible things to him.

  It made her realise how low she had sunk. It brought home to her just how much of a hold Saunders had got on her, and how he manipulated her, sometimes without her even knowing it.

  How could he say he loved her, when he treated her like a dog, a whore, and a servant to be ordered here and there; doing things that pleased him; sending her on errands that not only made her as bad a liar as he was, but also degraded her sense of decency?

  The more she thought about it, the more angry she got: a cold, hard anger that was born out of desperation, and a controlled loathing of this creature she had married.

  This time though, Phil Saunders had gone too far. He had overstepped the line; belittled her, made her attack someone who had only ever loved her. Harry was a wonderful man whom she had used for her own purposes, and now she had used him again – because Phil Saunders had made her.

  She thought about that. Phil had made her lie to Harry, made her hurt him and use him, just as she had done all those years before. Her act of treachery had sent Harry away then, and it would do the same again. If she let it!

  Suddenly, she knew what she must do, and she would do it without any hesitation.

  It was time for Saunders to pay the price.

  Time and again, fight after fight, she had always lost to him; but not this time. This time, it was Saunders who had lost!

  Her mind was made up. She felt an incredible sense of relief.

  Whatever price she had to pay, she would pay it gladly.

  There would be no turning back.

  Amy was concerned. ‘Good grief! You look like death warmed up,’ she exclaimed as Harry returned to the store. ‘Are you ill, or what?’

  ‘No, I’m fine, Amy, thanks.’ But he was not fine. He was in shock; devastated by all those dreadful things Judy had said; things that weren’t even true. Judy knew how it had been, yet she shifted all the blame onto him. How could she do that?

  He had a feeling there was more to it than met the eye. Judy had been different somehow. She was all right one minute, and then she seemed to go crazy. He had nearly gone after her, but decided it would only make things worse. And anyway, more importantly, he had promised to leave her alone.

  He cast his mind back. That’s exactly how it was back then, he recalled. We were talking, making plans, and then she went for me like a tiger, claws out, saying I’d taken advantage of her when she was only fourteen, and now her life was in tatters and she would never forgive me.

  He had been deeply disturbed by her lies then, and now he had that same feeling. I always thought there was more to it than she would admit, he thought now. But what about today? Where had all that vicious anger come from? And why?

  When Amy came back from the office, Harry quickly composed himself. ‘I was just wondering where Len had got to?’

  Amy chuckled. ‘Wonder no longer, because he’s up in the office as we speak. He’ll be down in a minute and ready to go. Okay, Harry? Will that do you?’

  ‘Thanks, Amy.’ He returned her smile. ‘I’m ready to leave right now. I could do with blowing away the cobwebs.’

  Amy worried about him. He was not the same Harry Blake who had left the store just a short time ago, smiling and chatting with that pretty blonde woman. She couldn’t help but wonder what had gone on between the two of them, to make him seem so down.

  In no time at all, Harry and Len were on their way to the first call. ‘What a morning I’ve had!’ Len complained all the way. ‘Dealing with suppliers, pacifying creditors and extracting money from bad payers.’ Blowing his face out in a great sigh, he went on. ‘This is the part of the day I like best. Chatting to the ordinary customer on the ground … my ladies of the back streets.’ One in particular, he thought excitedly.

  When Harry made no comment he asked in a mock grumpy voice, ‘Cat got your tongue? Somebody rattled your cage, have they?’

  Harry gave no answer. This was between himself and Judy. It was not up for discussion.

  When Len chose to start at the back end of his route, Harry was curious. ‘Why the change in routine?’

  Len tapped his nose. ‘You’ll see soon enough,’ he told him slyly.

  In order to complete the round as quickly as possible, they went off in separate directions. They had each visited several houses between them, before they met up again. ‘We might as well leave the car here,’ Len decided. ‘I’ve a very special call to make,’ he confided. ‘I’ll tell you all about it when we meet up afterwards.’

  They were only a few yards from their next port of call down Jackson Street, when they heard the argument. ‘Oh, my.’ Len looked up at number 16. ‘That couple are at it again!’

  There was a crash, like something heavy being thrown, and then a scream, and what sounded eerily like a gunshot, ‘Bloody hell!’ Len turned white. ‘Was that what I thought it was?’ Then he shrugged. ‘No, it couldn’t have been. It must have been a car backfiring … they sound like that, don’t they?’

  Quickening his steps, he ushered Harry along with him. ‘Best make ourselves scarce,’ he muttered. ‘The last thing we need is to get caught up in that kinda trouble!’ Almost running, he physically dragged Harry down the street.

  Suddenly, two incidents happened in quick succession. A van came hurtling round the corner, screeching on two wheels; at the same time the front door of number 16 was flung open and a woman came stumbling down the steps, a river of blood flowing down her face. She was crying, panic-stricken; hardly able to see as she set off across the road.

  Both men saw instantly what was about to happen. It was only when Harry looked again at the woman that
he began to realise, it was Judy. Harry began running back to her. ‘JUDY!’ There was a scream and a thud and the woman was thrown high into the air. ‘Oh my God!’ With his lungs almost bursting, Harry ran like the wind until he fell on his knees to take her in his arms, his voice shaking with terror. ‘Judy … Judy, look at me …’ Oh, dear God, NO! ‘I’ve got you, my love, I’ve got you!’ He yelled out, ‘Somebody get an ambulance!’

  Grey with shock, Len assured him quietly, ‘Somebody’s already called them.’ A neighbour had seen it all. Len looked across to where the driver of the van had been thrown out of the vehicle. ‘I reckon he’s had it,’ he muttered. ‘The poor sod didn’t stand a chance.

  After hitting Judy, the driver had been thrown out, and the careering van had trapped him against the house wall. Lolling across the mound of broken bricks and shattered metal, he looked like a discarded doll, head twisted and arms thrown forward.

  While Len sat on the steps, head bent and his whole body trembling, Harry talked to Judy, telling her he loved her, promising how they would be all right. He would take care of her, he vowed. She couldn’t die, because there were so many things they had to do … a life they had to live.

  He kissed her mouth, and he stroked her face, warm and sticky with blood. He rocked her in his arms, and still she made no move.

  ‘Where’s the ambulance! For God’s sake, Len! Why isn’t it here!’

  ‘It’s on its way,’ Len assured him again. ‘It’s on its way, mate.’ He glanced at Judy and wondered who she was, and how Harry came to know her. But it didn’t really matter anyway, because she was gone. Her and the driver both.

  In that moment, the tallyman made a vow: he would never mess around with women again, but would stick to his long-suffering wife. No, Len thought, if this was what passion led to, he would do it strictly by the book in future.

  Inside the house, Phil Saunders lay on the floor of the sitting room, his head against the fender, a trickle of blood spreading a pattern on the arm of his shirt; but he was not dead.

  YOU CAN’T KILL EVIL.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  NANCY WAS UP the ladder in the bathroom when the phone rang. ‘Get that, would you, Dad?’

  When the phone continued to ring, she called again. ‘DAD! Answer the phone, would you, please?’ The curtain she had been hanging fell to the floor.

  Cursing and clambering down the ladder, she left the curtain where it was and ran downstairs to answer the phone. ‘Yes?’ she snapped.

  For a moment she listened, her face opening with shock as Harry related what had happened to her sister, Judy.

  With the receiver still in her hand, she stood a moment, letting the message sink in, rubbing the palm of her hand over her face, and muttering to herself, ‘I should have helped her. She needed me to be there for her. Oh Judy, I’ve been so selfish.’ She knew how it had been. She had known all along. Some things are so painful, you tend to shut them out of your mind.

  Unaware of the call, Don ambled in. ‘I’ll strangle that blessed cat from next door,’ he was grumbling. ‘It’s been digging up my vegetable patch again.’ Catching sight of Nancy, he started across to her ‘Nancy?’ He saw her shocked face, he saw how she was gripping the receiver so tight, her knuckles had whitened. ‘What’s happened? For God’s sake, tell me what’s happened.’

  His eldest daughter turned to him. ‘It’s Judy,’ she whispered. ‘She’s been in a road accident. She’s badly injured.’ Suddenly she threw the receiver into its cradle. ‘We have to go to the hospital.’

  As she ran upstairs, Don had dropped into the armchair; staring into space. ‘I knew it!’ he kept mumbling. ‘I had a feeling something bad would happen.’ His legs were like water.

  He sat for a while unable to move, blaming himself for not being strong enough, blaming his late wife for turning Judy out instead of helping her – oh, and Mac, his brother – he blamed him too.

  While Nancy telephoned Brian and told him what had happened, Don got himself ready. First, he went to wash the garden muck from his hands, then he grabbed his coat and when Nancy came rushing down, he was already in the car, waiting to leave. ‘Where is she?’ he asked as Nancy climbed in. ‘Where are we headed?’

  ‘Bedford General Hospital,’ came the reply. ‘Hurry, Dad. Please, hurry!’

  Just as he had done for the past twenty-four hours, Harry sat beside Judy, willing her to come through; asking her to think about their future together, and how wonderful it would be.

  Unaware of what had happened, Judy drifted in and out of consciousness. She had injuries to her neck, her face had been pitted with shards of flying glass, and her leg was broken in two places.

  Irish Kathleen was never far away; satisfying herself that Judy was all right, praying she would survive. In her heart she suspected it was not the injuries to her neck, or the broken limb that kept Judy unconscious. It was her psychological state; the trauma of years of emotional abuse and mental cruelty from the bully she had married. It was what had happened before the accident that had brought her to this. Even now, they were not sure of the circumstances immediately leading up to the accident.

  Kathleen came in now, softly as always. ‘How is she?’ She glanced down on Judy’s pale, injured face, and her heart shrank. ‘What did her sister say when you told her?’ she asked Harry. ‘I’d an idea there was bad blood between them … certain things that happened that helped to send Judy down the wrong road, if you know what I’m saying.’

  She suddenly felt ashamed, realising how this was the wrong time and place to be discussing such matters. ‘So, do you think her sister will come?’

  Harry looked up. ‘I hope so,’ he answered. Then ‘I have a feeling you’re right,’ he mused. ‘I can’t help but wonder if it was because of me that Judy fell out with her family. Maybe I’m the reason they deserted her the way they did?’ Deciding, like Kathleen, that this was not the time or place, he answered her question. ‘Yes, Kathleen, I have a feeling her sister will come. She seemed genuinely shocked when I told her about Judy’s accident.’

  He thanked Kathleen. ‘It’s a good job you thought to look into Judy’s handbag,’ he sighed. ‘If you hadn’t, we would never have known where to find Nancy.’

  ‘We’ll have to call Aunt Rita!’ Nancy said to her father as they hurried along the winding hospital corridors. ‘Tell her what’s happened – ask her to let Uncle Mac know. Not the children, though. There’s no need for them to know. At least not yet.’

  ‘Why tell anyone yet?’ Don argued. ‘They’ll all find out soon enough, and we don’t really know how serious it is yet. Besides, Rita will only go into one of her nervous fits. As for Mac … well, we don’t want him round us just now. You know what he’s like.’

  The last thing he wanted was that devious bugger hanging about. The longer that one kept away from this family, the better Don liked it. There were things going on in his brother’s mind; bad things. Mac might be his own flesh and blood, but he was not to be trusted!

  When they got to the ward, Kathleen was waiting outside. Nancy thought she recognised something of the Irish neighbour who had taken Harry Blake into her home after his parents died. She had been a good friend to Judy when they were young.

  There was something else too; something that shook her rigid, but then it all began to fall into place. ‘You’re Kathleen O’Leary, aren’t you?’ She hurried straight to her. ‘You were the woman I saw banging on Judy’s door, threatening her – and now here you are at her bedside! What the devil are you up to?’

  Kathleen explained. ‘I’ve been worried about Judy for a long time,’ she said. ‘I’ve been trying to get her away from that monster of a husband. I had a feeling he was beating her. I offered her a home with me, but for some reason, she wouldn’t leave him.’

  Nancy believed her explanation, and thanked her. Then she said anxiously, ‘Where is Judy? How is she? I have to see her.’ She shivered a little.

  Kathleen took hold of Nancy’s hand. ‘I’l
l take you to her,’ she said, walking her to the little side-ward. ‘When you see her, don’t be alarmed. She’s been shifting in and out of consciousness, talking incomprehensible stuff mostly.’

  Harry looked up as Nancy came through the door, with Don trailing behind. ‘I take it you’re Judy’s sister, Nancy?’ Harry had known her as a young adult, but during the intervening seventeen years she had changed, and he would not have recognised her. ‘I’m Harry Blake. I used to be a friend of Judy’s.’ In the circumstances he thought that was enough information.

  Nancy knew him straight off, that tall, capable figure and those dark, quiet eyes. She nodded, then hurried past him to be with her sister.

  Don stepped forward to shake Harry’s hand. ‘We’re grateful that you contacted us,’ he said. ‘Judy has not been a part of our family for too long now.’ His worried gaze reached out to her, so small and helpless, and all the years of anguish overwhelmed him.

  ‘We thought we wouldn’t be able to find you,’ Harry admitted. ‘Then Kathleen took the liberty of looking inside Judy’s bag. Luckily, she found your number and address in her notebook.’

  Don smiled through his tears. ‘I didn’t know she had our address, let alone the phone number.’ It pleased him.

  ‘Try not to worry, Mr Roberts,’ Harry told him quietly. ‘The doctor is very hopeful that she’ll make a full recovery.’

  While Don went in search of the doctor, eager for more information, Nancy remained at the bedside whispering to her sister and comforting her. ‘Where’s my father?’ she asked Harry.

  ‘He was upset.’ Harry had seen the look on Don’s face. ‘He’s gone to speak with the doctor.’

  ‘Look after her, will you? I’m going to find Dad. I’m worried about him.’

  Harry did not need asking twice.

  Some way along the corridor, Nancy glanced through one of the long windows and saw her father there, seated on a bench outside. His shoulders were hunched and he looked like an old, old man. He was puffing on his pipe and staring into space, as though miles away.