‘We didn’t tell her to wear it.’
‘No, but we didn’t stay with her either. I spent all night with Martin. Katie’s been with Adam –’
‘And what a surprise that was. “Wouldn’t say boo” Katie Clay landing the best-looking boy in Carlton Terrace. That’s one in the eye for Helen.’
‘That’s nasty, Judy. Thank you.’ Lily took the coats the attendant handed her.
‘It’s what Helen deserves after the way she carried on tonight, trying to spoil our evening. And seeing as how I danced the first dance with Adam, Helen probably wants to scratch my eyes out along with Katie’s. But so what, we’re her friends not her keepers.’ Judy took the last two coats and fought her way back to the door. ‘Is she very angry with us?’
‘She wasn’t pleased when you danced the first dance with Adam.’ Lily made a beeline for Katie who was hovering anxiously in the foyer.
‘I can’t help it if he preferred to dance with me and before you say another word I’m not as nice as you. There’s no way I’d turn down a boy like Adam Jordan because a friend staked first claim. Besides, even if I had refused to dance with him, there’s no guarantee he would have asked Helen. He had the whole of the rest of the evening to dance with her and he didn’t leave Katie – not that I saw.’
‘You haven’t found Helen?’
‘No.’ Lily handed over the old, navy-blue school mac that Katie had chopped to three-quarter length in a futile attempt to make it look fashionable.
‘You girls have to get a move on if we’re going to get a seat on the ten-thirty train.’ Adam took Katie’s coat from her and held it out, ready to help her on with it.
‘Joe’s looking for Helen. He’s offered us a lift in his father’s car.’ Lily checked her watch, then caught a glimpse of Joe standing with his friend talking to a group of boys at the bar. They obviously hadn’t expended much time or energy on the search for Helen.
‘I thought you were in a hurry to catch the train, Judy,’ Brian prompted as he joined them.
‘I am, but we’ve lost Helen.’
‘She can’t have gone far in that dress,’ Adam commented.
‘Perhaps she’s in the Ladies and we missed her, Judy ...’ Lily looked up as a shout echoed in from outside.
‘Fight!’
‘Look at ...’ A chorus of wolf whistles drowned out the rest of the cry.
‘Why do I think that’s something to do with Helen?’ Lily tore through the door, closely followed by Judy and Katie.
‘Stay back.’
‘That’s my brother!’
‘All the more reason for you to stay back, Clay.’ Pushing Martin behind him, Brian slipped off his jacket as he ran towards the cliff face. Fighting his way through the encircling crowd, he thrust his coat at Helen who was cowering, white-faced and shivering, beneath a rocky outcrop. Muttering, ‘Cover yourself up’, he turned to a boy who was standing over another lying on the path in an evening suit. Guessing Martin’s brother wouldn’t be wearing a dinner jacket, Brian checked his injuries weren’t too severe before examining the man on the ground. His face was bloody and he was groaning but his eyes were open and Martin thought he could detect a touch of theatrical display in the agonised cries.
Sensing the one still standing was about to move in again, Brian gripped his arm and held him back. He spotted Adam on the fringe of the crowd and shouted, ‘Call the police and an ambulance. The rest of you, on your way,’ he ordered, with more authority than he felt.
‘Bloody spoilsport!’ a boy called from the circle of onlookers.
‘Less of that language.’
‘Or ...’
‘He’ll arrest you.’ Forcing his way through, Roy tipped his helmet back on his head and eyed the boy who’d sworn. ‘You’re Ned Davies’s son, aren’t you?’ The boy shrank behind his friends. ‘Come on, now,’ Roy coaxed softly. ‘You heard the man. Break it up. You’ve all got homes and beds to go to, and at this time of night you should be safely tucked up in them.’
There was a moment’s hesitation before those on the edge of the crowd began to move away. After that the rest were quick to disperse.
Roy crouched beside Larry. ‘You all right, son?’
‘Do I look all right?’ Larry sat up and spat blood from his mouth. ‘My face is a mess, my dinner suit ruined ...’
‘And your flies open,’ Roy stated flatly. ‘Your name?’
‘Why?’ Laurence demanded.
‘I’m a police officer, son.’
‘Laurence Murton Davies.’ Larry hastily fastened the buttons on his trousers before glaring at Jack. ‘My father will have you in court for this.’
‘We’ll see about that, boy. Either of you care to tell me what happened?’ Roy looked past Jack to where Helen, now wrapped in her own coat, was sobbing on Lily’s shoulder. There was something pathetic and ridiculous in the sight of the tall, well-built girl being supported by the diminutive Lily, but Roy didn’t laugh.
‘He’ – Jack pointed at Laurence – ‘attacked the girl I was with.’
‘That right, Helen?’ Roy asked.
Helen’s cries grew louder and more incoherent.
‘Either of you see anything?’ Roy looked from Brian to Martin.
‘We heard people shouting after the barman called last orders. I came out and saw these two fighting. The girl’s dress was already torn,’ Brian answered.
‘So you were too late to see exactly what happened.’
‘It’s bloody obvious,’ Jack broke in angrily, picking up the remains of Helen’s dress from beneath the cliff face. ‘Look at this. He ripped it off her ...’
‘All I did was kiss her and she was willing enough.’ Staggering to his feet, Laurence reeled and vomited on the path.
‘Steady, boy.’ Roy helped him on to a low wall. ‘You’re best sitting down.’
‘I was ready to pay her.’ Laurence opened his hand; the crumpled five-pound note lay in his palm.
‘You filthy, swine!’ Jack dived towards Laurence but Brian was quicker. Blocking his path, he held him firmly in his grip.
‘Jack, please,’ Roy murmured in his hypnotically smooth voice. ‘You’re in enough trouble as it is, without courting more. Helen?’ Reaching out, he patted her shoulder. ‘What have you got to say about this?’
Shrinking from Roy’s touch, grasping Lily as though her life depended on maintaining her hold, Helen’s cries escalated into hysteria.
‘We have to get her home, Uncle Roy,’ Lily pleaded as Judy and Katie helped her support Helen.
‘The ten-thirty train has gone,’ Adam announced, sticking close to Katie.
‘My mother’ll kill me.’
Roy waved as an ambulance came clanging down the path. ‘Not when I explain, Judy.’ He gazed in exasperation at the new crowd forming around them. ‘Brian, see Mr Laurence Murton Davies into the ambulance. You too, Helen.’
‘No! Not with him. I won’t go anywhere with him!’ Helen dived back, dragging Lily with her.
‘What you got, Roy?’ the ambulance man asked as he climbed out of his cab.
‘Possible concussion, hysterical girl who may have been attacked.’
The man looked from Laurence to Helen. ‘As they’re conscious we’ll take them both.’
‘Girl won’t go into the ambulance with him.’
‘Then it has to be the concussion. Sorry, Miss,’ the man apologised to Helen. He drew Roy out of earshot. ‘She’ll be seen quicker if you get her to the station and send for the police doctor. It’s chaos in Casualty. We’ve got over twenty injuries stacked up from a fight in the Dockers’ Club.’
Roy removed his helmet and scratched his bald head thoughtfully. ‘Brian, go into the Pier. Warn the manager we’ll need to borrow his office and their storeroom for a few minutes, then phone the station and ask them to send a man to the hospital to look after Mr Laurence Murton Davies, and a car and a Black Maria here. Martin, you stay with your brother. We’ll sort this out in town. Joe, how nice to see you.�
�� He greeted Joe expansively as, oblivious to the fight and his sister’s plight, Joe strolled towards his car with Robin. ‘Why don’t you come back to the Pier with the girls and me? It looks like your sister could do with a stronger shoulder than Lily’s to cry on and, given the circumstances, I think yours might be the most suitable.’
‘You didn’t say you’d become a copper,’ Martin reproached as he returned to the office after telling Adam he wouldn’t make it back to his place.
‘You didn’t ask.’ Brian replaced the receiver on the telephone in the manager’s office.
Jack was sitting quietly, but Brian noticed that he looked towards the door every few seconds. ‘I’m going to clean myself up.’
‘You’re not going anywhere,’ Brian warned as Jack left his chair.
‘I’m a mess.’ Jack fingered his blood-spattered shirt and jacket.
‘You are, but those bloodstains are evidence.’
‘I need a slash.’
‘Then I’ll go with you.’
‘I don’t need a bloody nursemaid.’
‘You do, while you’re involved in a possible criminal case.’
‘That’s right; hang me, just because I threw a punch at a rich bastard in a monkey suit. Never mind that he deserved it.’
‘No one’s accusing anyone of anything, Jack.’
‘Yet,’ Jack sneered.
‘I’ll go with him,’ Martin offered.
‘No ...’
‘What’s the matter, Brian?’ Martin enquired acidly. ‘Don’t you trust me?’
‘I trust you.’ Emulating Roy’s relaxed attitude in the hope that it would diffuse the tension between him and the Clays, as it had done between Roy and the crowd outside, Brian perched on the edge of the manager’s desk. ‘But you have to realise it could go hard with Jack if he doesn’t put his side of things sooner rather than later, and the mess on his face and clothes is part of that. It might help prove that he took sufficient share of the punishment to plead self-defence, should the other party accuse him of unprovoked assault.’
‘I didn’t take much punishment but I gave plenty,’ Jack boasted. ‘This’ – he fingered his bloodstained shirt – ‘is crache blood.’
‘Talk like that won’t help, Jack,’ Martin warned.
‘It won’t make any difference either, no one will listen to me.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘A copper listening to a Clay who’s been to Borstal? That’s a first,’ Jack mocked.
‘Even if I didn’t respect your brother, it’s my job to get to the truth of what happened out there. Still want to pee?’
‘I can wait.’ Jack leaned against the wall.
‘Want to tell me what happened?’
‘You really want to know?’
‘I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.’
‘Helen suggested we went outside.’
‘Helen – that’s the girl with the dress?’
‘Without one,’ Martin interposed drily.
‘We were dancing; she was hot. I bought her a drink.’
‘What kind of drink?’
‘Gin and tonic – two of them, but she didn’t drink one. I dropped it when I clocked that bastard.’
‘Christ, Jack, she’s under age,’ Martin interrupted angrily. ‘And if she drank you must have ...’
‘She’s eighteen, I checked, and I only had a couple of beers.’ Jack turned on his brother.
‘That’s not the point. Think how it looks, gin and tonic ...’
‘Only one.’
‘I’ve seen you with a couple of beers inside you.’
‘Not since I was fifteen and I’ve learned how to take it since then.’
‘You had one drink, Helen suggested you went outside, then what?’ Brian pressed, breaking up the argument.
‘She went ahead while I went to the bar to get more drinks.’
‘They let you take glasses outside in this place?’
‘No, but I know the barman. Why?’
‘Because broken glass can be classed as an offensive weapon. You sure you didn’t use them on Murton Davies?’
‘I told you, I dropped them when I saw Helen trying to fight him off.’ Jack’s voice hardened. ‘And after I dropped them, I thumped him. I suppose you’ll tell me now that I have to pay for the glasses.’
‘You’re sure she was the one who suggested you went outside.’
‘It was her idea.’
‘You didn’t see her talk to that man in the dance hall?’
‘You were there. How many blokes did you see in dinner jackets?’
‘Two.’
‘One was Joe Griffiths, Helen’s brother,’ Martin explained.
‘But the man you hit wasn’t in the ballroom?’
‘Not that I saw.’ Jack met Brian’s steady gaze.
‘And this Helen you were with didn’t know him?’
‘All I can tell you is, when I went outside, his flies were open and he was trying to get on top of her. She was screaming her head off. There wasn’t time for introductions, even if she did know him.’
‘And her dress?’
‘How many times do I have to say it? The bloke I clobbered tore it off her.’
‘You saw him tear it?’ Brian persisted.
‘Yes.’
‘Then it looks like a clear case of Sir Galahad to the rescue.’
‘What’s the betting no one else will see it that way when a Clay’s playing Sir Galahad?’ Jack retorted acidly.
‘Any of you girls see what happened?’ Roy asked as he escorted them into the storeroom.
‘They were with her, they must have ...’
‘You’ll get your chance to talk later, Joe.’ Roy pointed to a couple of chairs outside the door. ‘But for now, you and your friend sit and behave like good boys until the Black Maria arrives.’
‘I’ve nothing to do with any of this, I didn’t see a thing so I may as well leave you to it,’ Robin slurred, backing towards the door.
‘And you are?’ Roy rested his hand on Robin’s shoulder as he squinted at the piece of paper Brian had handed him after seeing Laurence Murton Davies into the ambulance.
‘Robin Watkin Morgan.’
‘Robin Watkin Morgan, do you know Laurence Murton Davies?’
‘I wouldn’t say know,’ Robin hedged. ‘Joe just happened to be giving both of us a lift, that’s all.’
‘Where to?’
‘Pardon?’ Robin looked at him blankly.
‘You said Joe was giving you a lift. Where was he taking you?’ Roy glanced into the storeroom before closing the door on the girls.
‘Home.’
‘Which is?’
‘Gower Road. My father is Dr Watkin Morgan. You must have heard of him, Constable?’
‘I have.’ Roy set his mouth into a thin hard line. The one thing guaranteed to set his teeth on edge was people trying to intimidate or curry favour with the police by using their position or influence. It annoyed him even more when it wasn’t their own position or name they used and he knew the senior police surgeon, Dr Watkin Morgan, well enough to suspect that he wouldn’t be pleased at the thought of his son cavorting down the Pier, drunk. ‘And Laurence Murton Davies?’
‘What about him?’
‘Is he staying with you?’
‘No.’
‘Then where were you taking him?’ Roy looked at Joe.
‘He came along for the ride. It’s his twenty-first, he’d had one too many ...’
‘Then he was drunk?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘Let’s get this straight, Joe, he was in your car. You were giving Robin a lift home and Laurence Murton Davies had come along for the ride, although in your words “he’d had one too many”?’
‘That’s about right,’ Joe agreed sheepishly, realising his explanation sounded ridiculous.
‘So you intended to drive Laurence Murton Davies home afterwards?’
‘I hadn’t thought that far.’
&
nbsp; ‘Then do some thinking now,’ Roy advised harshly, ‘because that’s your sister in there. And in case you hadn’t noticed, she’s in a bit of a state. From initial appearances it appears to me that your friend Laurence has had something to do with that.’
‘It can’t be Larry. It has to be Jack Clay. Everyone knows what he is.’
‘Constable, as I said, I’m nothing to do with this so if I can get a taxi ...’
‘You can get one from the station, Mr Watkin Morgan. There are one or two points I’m not clear on and you may be just the person to set me straight.’ Walking into the storeroom, Roy closed the door behind him.
‘We’d just got our coats when we heard the row outside, Uncle Roy.’ Lily’s arms were round Helen who was sitting with her face buried in her hands.
‘We only got there a minute or so before you, Mr Williams,’ Judy chipped in.
‘Helen?’ Exasperated by the silence that greeted his question, Roy turned to Katie. ‘Did you see anything?’
‘I saw Helen talking to Jack in the ballroom,’ she ventured courageously, shocked by the blood on Jack’s clothes and Larry’s assertion that her brother had attacked him. She knew better than anyone how wild Jack could be, but she refused to believe him capable of assaulting anyone – even crache in a dinner suit – for no reason.
‘And Helen wasn’t upset then.’
‘She was smiling.’
‘Did any of you girls see Helen leave the dance hall?’
They looked at one another.
‘No,’ Judy answered, ‘but I saw Jack standing at the bar by himself when I went to get my coat.’
‘Which was how long before you went outside?’
Judy looked at Lily. ‘A couple of minutes.’
‘About five,’ Lily concurred.
The manager stuck his head round the door. ‘The Black Maria and car are here.’
Roy ushered the girls through the door and into the back of the car. After asking the officer driving the car to wait, he saw Joe, Robin, Jack and Martin into the Black Maria with Brian.
‘You not coming with us, Roy?’ the driver of the Black Maria asked.
‘No, I’ll bring the girl to the station as soon as I’ve seen the others home. Tell the sergeant I’ll be right behind you.’
‘If anyone should go with Helen, it should be me,’ Joe muttered mutinously.
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