Born Bad

by Josephine Cox

  ‘I ain’t got nothing else to say.’ The curtain was abruptly closed. ‘BUGGER OFF OUT OF IT!’

  Don gave another forceful knock on the door.

  The curtain opened again. ‘I’ve already told you rozzers everything I remember. The bitch shot me, that’s all I know. We were just talking, then she grabbed the gun and shot me! Ain’t that enough?’

  Ah, so he thought Don was a policeman. Don was delighted. It was working in his favour. ‘If you don’t open this door right now, I’ll be back with another officer and a warrant,’ he threatened. ‘It’s up to you.’

  When he turned to leave, just as he had hoped, the door was flung open. ‘You’d best come in then, hadn’t yer?’ Unshaven and bedraggled, with a bandage round his head, Saunders looked wild.

  Don closed the door behind him and followed Saunders through to the sitting room. Saunders ranted. ‘You ought to be ashamed, hounding a sick man like this. Anybody’d think it were me who pulled the trigger. So, come on then! What d’you want to know now?’

  Don had discreetly cased the room, and now that he had the lie of the land, he knew the ways and means.

  ‘I need you to answer a few questions,’ he told Saunders. ‘This time though, we want the truth.’

  Saunders began throwing his arms about, threatening all and sundry. ‘I’ve already told you! We were just talking – nothing rowdy, nothing bad, just talking. Then she had this gun … pointed it straight at me, she did; shot me in the head.’ He rambled on incoherently. ‘THE BITCH SHOT ME IN THE HEAD!’

  Phil had been informed of his wife’s accident and knew that she was still unconscious, with her family around her. ‘There’ll be time enough to deal with her later,’ he had muttered to himself when the doctor had gone. And now he had returned home, to watch and wait. Every time he looked in the mirror and saw the gash on his face, he planned his vengeance step by wicked step. There had to be that one time, he thought, when she would be alone …

  Suddenly he was going crazy, grabbing the sides of his head and saying how he was in pain, and he had to have a drink. He went into the kitchen and began pouring whisky into a cup, still raving, still calling Judy every foul name he could think of.

  Then he took a great swig of the whisky and came back into the sitting room. ‘She was little better than a prostitute when I picked her up out the gutter. What thanks did I get for it, eh? None, that’s what! That little cow made my life a misery for years. If she dies it won’t be no fault o’ mine.’ He laughed out loud. ‘I hope she does peg out. It’s what she deserves!’

  As he raised the cup to take another swig, Don simply raised the poker and brought it down as hard as his strength would allow, into the back of Saunders’ neck.

  Without a sound Saunders slumped like a felled ox, the blood oozing out across the carpet; his eyes wide open, frozen in shock.

  Don watched as the whisky trickled from Saunders’s open mouth. He saw it mingle with the blood and he smiled. ‘So, you think she deserves to die, do you?’ The smile slid away. ‘You are wrong,’ he murmured to the dying man. ‘You have got it all wrong.’

  He didn’t bother wiping his fingerprints off the poker or making any attempt to hide the fact that he had been there. He didn’t even care about the blood that was spattered across his jacket.

  Instead, he walked calmly along the passageway; carefully closed the door as he went out, and walked down the steps.

  Then he got into the car, started the engine and drove away. As though nothing had happened.

  Epilogue

  OVER THE COMING months, Judy was returned to the family fold. The truth was difficult, but if life was to go on, in a healing way, then that truth had to be faced. Afterwards, it must be put away, into the annals of family history.

  Don Roberts was laid to rest in his local churchyard. He was found lying dead in the church in Bedford, where he had taken a lethal number of pills, stolen from the hospital for the purpose of ending it all.

  He had first gone home and written two letters: one to the police, and another to Judy.

  It was now April 1957.

  With great tenderness, Judy stooped to lay the spray of spring flowers on the ground. For a moment she stood beside Harry, her gaze resting on her father’s name, and in that moment, what had happened to her as a child seemed a lifetime away. She had been a child in torment and now she was a woman, and at long last, she had learned to forgive herself. For she knew now and for always, that it was not her fault.

  After a time, she felt Harry’s hand entwine with hers. ‘Time to go,’ he said. ‘Don’t forget we’re getting married tomorrow.’

  She smiled up at him. ‘How could I ever forget that?’ she asked, her grey eyes smiling. ‘Oh, Harry.’ She shook her head as the tears flowed. ‘How did it all happen? Why did it have to be like that?’

  He held her tight. ‘Life is unpredictable,’ he answered, thinking of Sara, thinking of the lost past with Judy. ‘We are none of us in control.’

  Judy took a long look at this man who had been her saviour; this wonderful, kind man whom she had never stopped loving, and never would; and her heart was full for him, Sara and Tom.

  Yet even now, there were things that had been left unsaid; things that came of the secret, and could never be revealed.

  Maybe in the fullness of time it would not matter, she thought. All that really mattered was how you dealt with what life sent you, and she had not dealt with it very well.

  Now though, she had Harry, and he was her strength. She too, had found her own strength: the strength to accept what had happened; the strength to give as well as take. Above all, the strength to love – this man, this wonderful life, and especially her family.

  ‘For goodness’ sake, will you keep still.’ Nancy was exasperated.

  Judy did try, though she continued to fidget while Nancy adjusted her veil. ‘It’s too low,’ she pointed out. ‘It keeps slipping over my eyes.’

  ‘That’s because you keep moving. Now please just keep still, or they’ll be playing “Here Comes the Bride” and you’ll still be here, complaining!’

  Having secured Judy’s veil, she stood back to check the results of her handiwork. ‘Oh, my.’ Her face was wreathed in smiles, even as the tears blossomed in her eyes. ‘I never thought I would see the day.’ Throwing her arms round her sister, she held her so tight, she made Judy feel faint. ‘You’re strangling me! Watch out for the veil!’

  Nancy stepped back. ‘Sorry,’ she giggled. ‘Take a look at yourself in the mirror – go on. There’s time enough.’

  Nervously, Judy stepped back and took a long look at herself. She was so moved, she could hardly speak.

  ‘Well, what’s the verdict?’ Nancy wanted to know what she thought. ‘Can I make a wedding dress or not?’

  ‘Yes, you can.’ Judy could hardly believe her eyes at the vision that presented itself to her. She had stood through so many fittings, with Nancy grumbling and arguing, and had never seen herself in the finished article. Now, on the very day when she would become Harry’s wife, she saw what he would see, and she could not stop the tears of gratitude. ‘It’s perfect,’ she said brokenly. ‘So glamorous. Thank you, Nancy. Thank you so much.’ The dress really was exquisite.

  Nancy beamed with pleasure, then she was grumbling again. ‘Never mind the thank yous!’ she said. ‘We’d best get down the stairs or they’ll be leaving without us.’

  A moment later they made their way down the stairs, and everyone was there, waiting to see what Judy looked like in the dress which Nancy had made in secret.

  There was a spontaneous round of clapping and cries of ‘Wow! You look radiant, Judy … oh, and the dress is amazing!’

  It was amazing. And so was Judy.

  The dress was fashioned in ivory satin, with a ruffled neckline and a fitted waist; the skirt spun out from the waist before falling in soft folds to her ankles. The shoes were matching ivory, as was her headdress, a perfect heart-shaped tiara, finished with sequins th
at glittered as she walked.

  Her long fair hair was swept up and secured with two pretty combs, and her bouquet was of early spring flowers; pink and blue.

  As she walked through the door to the waiting car, she paused to look back at her three bridsmaids, Pauline, Nancy and Sammie. All were dressed in a quieter version of Judy’s dress, all in the colour blue, and each with a smaller version of Judy’s bouquet. Judy thought she must be dreaming – but she wasn’t, she assured herself. This really was her wedding day. Harry was waiting for her right now, at the church.

  When they arrived at the church, Kathleen was waiting with young Tom to give her a kiss and wish her well. ‘Ah, sure ye look like a little angel – so ye do!’ She was already crying and they weren’t even in the church yet.

  Judy cuddled Tom, who clung to her, shy with her in all the finery. She whispered a promise of cake and ice cream into his ear, making him beam.

  Mac stood beside her, looking proud and splendid. ‘Don’t be nervous,’ he said, wrapping her arm round his. ‘I’m nervous enough for both of us!’

  When the organ music struck up and Judy made her entrance, she raised her gaze to Harry, so tall and handsome in his suit, and the smile he gave her as he turned from the altar was one from the heart. She wanted to run to him, but the music dictated her steps, until she was right there at his side. ‘You look beautiful,’ he whispered, and she giggled nervously. ‘So do you.’

  The service was wonderful, so sincere and happy, and later, when they all gathered at the local hotel for the meal and speeches, everyone had a great time, and there was much laughter and dancing.

  Breathless and happy, Sammie came running to Judy. ‘I’m so glad they brought you home, Aunt Judy,’ she said. ‘I never even knew I had you.’ She gave her aunt a hug and a kiss, and ran back onto the dance floor, where she danced the night away.

  Having seen Sammie talking with Judy, Nancy came across to her. ‘All right, are you, Mrs Blake?’ She had an idea how she must be feeling.

  Judy assured her, ‘I’m fine, and I’m so very grateful to you for what you did.’

  ‘No regrets then?’

  Judy wrapped her arms around her sister’s neck. ‘I love you,’ she whispered in her ear. ‘You’ve done a wonderful job with Sammie.’ Standing back, she looked Nancy in the eye. ‘Sammie is truly yours, and I promise she always will be,’ she told Nancy solemnly. ‘Everything is just as it should be.’

  Both Nancy and Judy were emotional. The journey had been hard.

  It had been a long time. A hurtful time. But it was over now.

  When the evening drew to a close and most of the guests were gone, Kathleen found Harry and Judy together in the conservatory. ‘Me and Tom are away to our posh beds in this posh hotel.’ She gave a wink. ‘There you go, me darlin’s.’ She handed them the key to her house. ‘Make sure youse lock yourselves in. See you tomorrow.’ She gave another wink. ‘Or maybe not till next week. We don’t mind, do we, Tom?’ She ruffled his hair.

  Tom was happy enough. ‘It’s nice here,’ he yawned, and the newly married couple each gave him a kiss and a cuddle.

  When it was quiet, Judy and Harry slipped away.

  Back at the cottage in Fisher’s Hill, Judy removed the envelope from her handbag, where she had hidden it. ‘Harry?’ She called him over.

  ‘Yes, wife?’ Taking off his jacket and tie, he had a certain twinkle in his eye. Then when he saw how serious she was, he was concerned. ‘What’s wrong, sweetheart? You haven’t overdone it, have you – all that jigging about on the dance-floor?’

  It was not the first time he had had to remind her. ‘I know you’re all mended now, thank goodness, but the doctor said you won’t be one hundred per cent fit for at least another few months.’

  ‘It’s not that,’ she protested. ‘And anyway, I’m absolutely fine, except for the occasional ache in the back of my knees and the two nasty marks on my neck.’

  ‘So, if it’s not that, what is it then?’

  Judy showed him the envelope that Nancy had found on her bed last year. It was one of two; one for the police, admitting how Don had murdered Phil Saunders, and the other addressed to Judy. Because Nancy had suspected its contents, she had deliberately not delivered it to Judy, not wanting to hamper her sister’s recovery. Only recently had she felt the time was right to give it to Judy.

  ‘What should we do with this?’ Judy asked now.

  ‘Don’t you want to read it?’ Harry knew all about the letter.

  She shook her head. ‘No. Besides, we both know what’s in it, don’t we? And we don’t want to spoil our wedding day.’

  He nodded; Judy had told him everything, and for the first time he truly understood why she had been the way she was back then. ‘Yes, I know he did a bad thing. All I want now though is for you to try to forget it.’ He realised how ridiculous that must sound to her. ‘Well, at least try your hardest to put it behind you, Judy – for all our sakes, but mostly for yours. Can you do that?’ He looked at her tenderly. ‘Or is it too difficult?’

  She thought about that for a moment. She looked across at the coals still glowing in the fire-grate, and knew what had to be done. Slowly she went across the room and laid the envelope over the coals.

  Harry drew her away into the other room, where the clock was striking the twelfth hour. When it was finished, he looked down on her with the love shining in his eyes. ‘Well now, Mrs Blake, he said. ‘Do you realise this is the first day of the rest of our lives?’

  ‘A brand new beginning,’ she murmured, laughing when he swept her into his arms and carried her off upstairs to the bedroom.

  Back in the sitting room, the envelope began to curl in the heat.

  When the seal sprang open, the letter slid out into the grating, where it lay, scorched and fluttering as the flames licked about it. In the glowing light, her father’s words could easily be seen.

  Dearest Judy,

  How can I ever ask you to forgive me? I never meant to hurt you. I only ever wanted to love you.

  There is no way I can explain what I did, but I know your life was turned upside down because of me. Please, can you find it in your heart, after all the terrible things I did, to forgive me?

  I deserve to burn in hell, I know. You though, are an innocent who was thrown to the wolves, and you deserve to be happy.

  For me, it’s already too late.

  I hope and pray to the Lord that He may see me for what I am, a pitiful, wicked soul who is truly repentant of the sinful things I have done to my own child.

  If you can, please, Judy, will you pray for me? I don’t suppose you will, and I would not blame you for that, but if you do, maybe the Almighty will listen to you where He will not listen to me?

  God bless you, my darling daughter.

  Slowly but surely, the coals fell down one after the other, smothering the words; shrivelling the paper until it was nothing more than ashes.

  It was only right that there should be no trace of what had happened to a little girl who loved and trusted. And who was bitterly betrayed.

  Upstairs, after talking and planning and making love well into the early morning, Harry was still sleeping when Judy crept softly from her bed.

  She went downstairs and, taking her coat from the peg, she walked out into the garden, where she stood in that same spot that Harry so liked; at the fence, from where you could see the whole night sky above.

  ‘I didn’t need to read what he said,’ she whispered to an unseen Presence. ‘I know what he did. I must try and forget, for Harry’s sake and for the sake of the others I love, but it won’t be easy.’

  Recounting the events, she spoke of them now. ‘I was so afraid. I didn’t know how to stop it, or who to tell. I thought it was my fault. Mother would never have believed me and anyway, I was always so scared of her and her sharp tongue. She would have made my life at home even worse than it was.’

  It helped to say it out loud. ‘When I knew I was carrying a child, I was ter
rified of the future. I thought Harry would take responsibility. I lied about my age so he would make love to me; and when I told him that I thought he had made me pregnant, he left me … not because there was a child, but because I had deceived him, and no one should do that to someone they love.’

  She thought of the conversation she and Nancy recently had. ‘Nancy had an idea it was going on,’ she whispered. ‘She asked me and I denied it. I thought I would be blamed and put away in some terrible place, because that’s what he told me.’

  He had told her other things too. ‘He said if I ever let anyone know our secret, they would drown me for being a witch.’

  Then there was that time when Uncle Mac saw her running away. ‘I think Uncle Mac suspected,’ she recalled now. ‘He would follow me everywhere, watching me, guarding me; Daddy didn’t like him for that. Uncle Mac hasn’t said anything, and I would never ask, but I think he knew; although he could never be sure. I think that’s why he took Sammie away … because he wanted her to be safe.’

  She thought of her daughter. ‘Out of all the darkness, Sammie was the shining light. The one good thing – but then Nancy took her from me. At first I thought she was being selfish, hiding me away, persuading me not to keep my baby. But now I’m glad. I know that if Sammie ever found out the truth, she would suffer, and so it will remain a secret. I’m happy for Nancy and Brian and for David and Sammie, and I know my lovely girl will make a fine woman one day soon.’

  When she grew cold and shivering, she made her peace. ‘He’s somewhere else now, Lord,’ she whispered. ‘You must know, he punished Phil, the one who hurt me, but I can’t feel too sorry about that; not even my own part in it. I shot at him because he threatened to kill me … he saw me and Harry kiss, and he went completely wild. I explained to the police and they cautioned me, saying I must never again use a gun.’

  She shuddered. ‘As if I would ever want to! I wouldn’t have used that one, if he hadn’t tumbled over backwards in his rage and it had fallen at my feet.’