The Pawnbroker's Niece

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The Pawnbroker's Niece Page 29

by June Francis


  ‘I can see myself out,’ said Billy, his expression intent as it rested on Sam’s face. ‘You take care of yourself, mate.’ He touched Rita’s cheek with a finger. ‘You, too. Don’t go wearing yourself out. If he’s got any whisky pour him a dram.’ Then he was gone.

  Rita would have given a lot to go with him but she pulled herself together. She guessed there would be no whisky in the place because Sam was no drinker. So she took money out of the till and went and bought a small bottle. She poured a half a tumbler and told Sam to get that down him.

  He did not argue.

  When it was time for her to close the shop and go home he clung to her hand. ‘I don’t want to be left alone, Reet. Couldn’t you stay the night? You can trust me.’

  Of course she could trust him. It was the extent of his grief that surprised her and the need to mention it to Margaret that gave her reason not to stay with him. Then she remembered Ellen. Maybe she could stay, too. Margaret and Ellen had had words that morning over the time she was coming in after working at the club so she would probably agree to the idea. ‘I’ll have to speak to Aunt Margaret. You’ll be OK for half an hour or so, won’t you?’

  He nodded. ‘Don’t be long, though. Me mind keeps playing over what happened.’ He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and then reached for the whisky bottle.

  Margaret appeared to give scant attention to what Rita told her but was quick to agree to Ellen’s staying at the pawnshop. Ellen was happy with the idea too. ‘It mightn’t be as posh as here,’ she said, ‘but it’s nearer to the club and I won’t have your aunt snapping at me. What’s happened to make her so bad-tempered?’

  Rita was not going to tell her but suggested she got a move on as Sam would be waiting for them.

  Sam lay comatose on the sofa and the empty whisky bottle was on the rug. As there was only one bed in the house Rita suggested she and Ellen share it. Sam could carry on sleeping on the sofa.

  ‘I understand how he feels, losing a mate,’ said Ellen, gazing down at him. ‘And in such a way. Tragic!’ She sat down and, opening her handbag, began to apply fresh nail polish and changed the subject. ‘So how do you find Billy? He’s changed, hasn’t he? He’s much more serious. I was surprised and glad we never got as far as an engagement. Still, I’m in no rush to marry anyone.’ She smiled at Rita, not realising the effect her words had on her. ‘Switch the wireless on, ducky, and let’s liven the place up.’

  Rita did not argue; it was easier to give in to Ellen and she doubted anything would rouse Sam at that moment. How she wished Ellen could have said those words years ago. Rita tried to lose herself in her library book but couldn’t — despite it being the latest Agatha Christie. Her mind kept wandering to that moment Billy had helped her down from the ladder and kissed her. If only she could have kissed him back. She thought about him meeting his father for the first time and wondered what the outcome would be. She sighed and lifted her gaze from the open page in front of her and looked at Sam and knew she must stop thinking of Billy. Sam needed her.

  *

  The following morning Ellen was still asleep in Sam’s bed when Rita got up. She had left him still out to the world on the sofa last night. She found him pale and clammy but on his feet and drinking water. ‘You look like death,’ she said without thinking.

  He almost keeled over but steadied himself by putting a hand against a wall. ‘I’ll have to arrange Archie’s funeral.’ His voice trembled.

  ‘Surely his family will see to that.’

  ‘He was an orphan. I became his family. He trusted me to look after him; that’s why I’ve got to see to things.’ Sam’s voice had strengthened and he pulled back his shoulders and put on his jacket and left.

  Rita was in the shop locking the till when he returned much later. If anything he looked more drawn than he had earlier and her heart was filled with pity for him. ‘Do you want us to stay tonight too, Sam?’

  ‘Thanks, I’d appreciate your company.’ He put both arms round her and rested his head on her shoulder. ‘What would I do without you? Me and you, we’ve looked out for each other for a few years now, haven’t we?’

  She nodded, near to tears.

  Ellen was a comfort to both of them, helping Rita in the shop in the afternoon and, when Sam came in, trying to take his mind off things by playing music and talking to him about her brother and the proposed tour to the other side of the world.

  The day of the funeral, Rita did not open up after lunch but went with Sam to church. Ellen said she would have gone too but had to rehearse several new numbers at the club. Very few people were at the service. The minister praised Archie for his bravery in saving the little boy’s life. She thought Sam was going to faint and propped his swaying body up with her own. Afterwards he seemed in a dream and she had to keep telling him what to do.

  The interment was a nightmare because she kept thinking he might topple into the open grave. He had made no arrangements for a funeral meal for which she was glad because when they arrived back at the shop Billy was waiting outside.

  Her face lit up. ‘How did things go?’

  ‘He’s coming tomorrow because he had a meeting today. Can’t say we hit it off. I embarrass him. I’m a reminder of something he’d rather forget. I can admire the work he’s doing but…’ Billy shrugged and glanced at Sam. ‘How are you, mate?’

  Sam gulped. ‘Archie was a hero, you know!’ Then he went ahead of them and up the stairs.

  ‘He’s probably gone to get changed,’ said Rita. ‘He’s taking Archie’s death really hard.’

  ‘When’s the wedding?’ said Billy, his gaze following Sam up the stairs.

  The question coming so unexpectedly took her aback. She did not want to think about it but June was bursting out all over; flowers, trees, birds on the wing, and students with collecting boxes were everywhere because it was Rag Week. ‘The end of the month.’

  Billy started and he seemed to lose colour. ‘So soon! Do you think he’s going to be up to it?’

  ‘You mean because of the way he is over Archie’s death?’ She had not thought of postponing the wedding but maybe they should. ‘I’ll talk to him. Maybe you can get him to see it might be best to wait until he’s got over this upset. While I make tea perhaps you can tell me how you greeted your father when you met him.’

  He grimaced. ‘Certainly not “Hi, Dad!”’ He followed her into the kitchen. ‘It was unreal him looking so like Dad — Blast! One of these days I’ll stop thinking of William as my dad.’

  ‘Why do you need to? He’s been more of one than Alan. Call Alan your father and William your dad.’ She smiled.

  ‘That’s a good idea.’ Billy’s eyes were warm as they met hers. ‘We’re a pair, aren’t we? Your aunt has taken the place of your mother and my uncle that of my father. It makes you think, doesn’t it?’

  ‘You can say that again and you haven’t even heard the latest on Mam.’

  ‘Tell me,’ he said with a slight smile.

  There was a thud overhead. ‘Gosh! I’ve forgotten about Sam. I wonder what that noise was?’

  ‘You’d better go and take his tea up. I guess this isn’t the right time for us to talk. I’ll go.’

  ‘No wait!’ She touched his arm and said impulsively, ‘Stay a little longer.’

  Their eyes met and held and she felt breathless. Hastily she poured a cup out for Sam and hurried upstairs. She pushed open his bedroom door and stopped abruptly. Her heart raced as she took in the fallen chair and Sam hanging by a cord from the light fitting. He was twitching and gasping, his face turning purple. She darted forward, set the chair beneath him, and placed an arm around him to take his weight while trying to loosen the noose but it was too difficult. She yelled for Billy and carried on yelling until he came.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ He took a jack-knife from his pocket and managed to balance on the edge of the chair. Rita’s arms were aching but she felt unable to let go of Sam until Billy sawed through the cord.

  Between
them they managed to get Sam down and lay him on the bed. ‘Is he still breathing?’ she gasped.

  Billy did not answer but at that moment Sam drew in a rasping breath and reached up a hand to his throat. ‘You fool! You bloody fool! What did you go and do that for?’ cried Rita.

  Sam’s eyelids fluttered open but he made no answer.

  ‘Leave him alone,’ said Billy, an intense expression on his face. ‘He can’t give you an answer. Go downstairs. I’ll look after him. If you have any brandy we could all do with a tot.’

  Rita knew there was no brandy but, relieved that Billy was taking over and still shaken by what had happened, she determined to raid the till again and buy a bottle. Margaret would surely understand why she had to spend the money when told what had happened. Or would she? Rita shuddered as she relived that moment when she had seen Sam hanging. If she had left him hanging there a little longer, then — She buried the thought.

  She bought brandy and took bottle and glasses upstairs where she found Sam still lying on his bed and Billy by the window removing the cordless blind.

  ‘Sorry!’ croaked Sam, looking up at Rita from damp eyes. ‘That bang on the head muddled me.’

  Billy turned. ‘He felt guilty because it wasn’t him who got killed. I told him men who survived the war often felt the same way. Isn’t that right, Sam?’

  He nodded. ‘I’m really sorry for frightening you, Reet.’

  ‘I should think so too!’ She forced a smile as she poured brandy into three glasses. ‘Promise me you’ll never try anything like that again. In fact I’m not going to take the chance of you doing it. You’re coming back with me to Abercromby Square.’

  Billy and Sam exchanged looks. ‘Do you think that’s a good idea, Billy?’ Sam pushed himself up onto his elbows.

  ‘It’s your decision, mate. I’ve got to go along there and have a word with Miss Sinclair so I could walk with the pair of you.’ Billy took a glass from Rita. ‘Cheers!’ he said, lifting his glass. ‘Here’s to no more frights. It’s not doing my heart any good.’

  Rita could only agree wholeheartedly.

  *

  Margaret was sitting behind her desk, supposedly reading a report Rita had written about a prospective client but not taking in a word because her thoughts were all over the place. One minute she was rehearsing what she would say to Alan and thinking of what Billy had told her about him, and the next she was picturing herself telling William about Jonathan. She wished she hadn’t said she wanted to see Alan now. What was the point? The past was the past and it would be best to let it go. She knew which twin she loved and wanted to marry. She glanced at her watch. He would be here soon.

  A child’s voice sounded in the hall and there was a crash. ‘Damn and blast!’ she muttered, and left the room to discover Josh had knocked a vase over. ‘Go outside and play! I wish your blinking father would hurry up and get here.’

  Josh picked up the ball and looked at her from big brown eyes. ‘He’ll come on a boat.’

  ‘Probably,’ she said with a sigh.

  ‘Per-raps he’ll come today!’

  Margaret hoped not. She had enough to cope with. She opened the door to let him out and returned to her desk. It was half-day closing and Rita would be home soon with Sam. Surprisingly Ellen had asked could she continue to stay on at the shop as it was nearer to the club. That suited Margaret. The hours the girl kept disturbed the household and she wondered why she had agreed for Ellen to stay here at all. The house was turning into a boarding house! Her mind flitted to thoughts of Sam and what her niece had told her about him and her brows puckered. No! She was not going to think about that today. She wandered over to the window and saw Josh crossing the road to the garden in the middle of the square. If one of the residents saw him with that ball going in there they’d chase him. She thought of Eve and felt a simmering anger. The selfish bitch! Living it up with some man on her money! Thinking about men — her gaze rested a moment on a middle-aged man reading a newspaper, before travelling on to several students in costume with their collecting tins.

  Suddenly she caught sight of another man. This one was wearing a black homburg and a clerical suit. Even from this distance she could see the facial likeness to William, but his twin was portly and obviously in the best of health. He was checking door numbers and was getting closer. He stopped at the bottom of her steps and appeared to be able to read the brass plate on the wall from there. She wondered what he was thinking. Maybe he thought her soul needed saving because moneylenders did not get a good press in the Bible, she thought dryly. It was a relief to her that she had not lost her sense of humour.

  Deciding not to wait until he knocked, Margaret smoothed down the skirt of her best peach suit and went to open the door.

  For a moment neither of them spoke. She was aware of her anger when she compared his physical well-being with his twin; it was obvious William had suffered in life far more than his brother.

  ‘Hello, Margaret! May I come in?’ Hearing his voice after all these years, she was conscious of Billy saying how much plumier than William’s it was. Yet there was a similarity in its depth and the hesitant smile could have been William’s. Alan being nervous made her feel much better.

  ‘I can hardly say what I want to on the doorstep for the neighbours to hear.’ She held the door wider.

  He sighed as he removed his hat and stepped over the threshold. ‘I don’t blame you for being angry with me. If I’d known you hadn’t got my letter I’d have done something about it.’

  ‘Such as writing another? Didn’t you give any thought to Bella getting in to trouble? You allowed your brother to shoulder your responsibility even after you knew Billy existed. Didn’t you want to see your son? Never mind about me. He’s the one who got really hurt in all this. It’s a funny kind of Christianity that ignores the needs of a child.’

  He reddened. ‘He was safe with Will. I thought you and he were married.’

  ‘You could have sent money to help with his upkeep, even so.’

  ‘I was ashamed. I wanted to put the past behind me and do the work I believed God had called me to, but maybe I had even that wrong.’ He frowned. ‘My work in Scotland is so much more rewarding.’

  ‘How glad I am to hear that.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘Now you’ve told me how fulfilling your life is I don’t think I need to detain you any longer. I know all I need to know now. You do know your brother is worth two of you? He might occasionally be weak but he has got a heart and you could take a few lessons from him.’

  Alan made to speak but she shook her head. ‘If it’s an apology, I don’t want to hear it.’ She held wide the door. ‘Thank you for coming. I presume you’ve seen Will? How did you find him?’

  ‘Much in the same mood as you,’ he said with a grim smile, replacing his homburg. ‘Whatever you might say, Margaret, I am sorry. I did truly love you but I think Will is the man for you.’ Before she could respond he left.

  Margaret closed the door and suddenly felt on top of the world. She might not have wanted to listen to his apology but his sincerity had affected her and she realised she could forgive him. But now she wanted to see Will. There was so much she needed to say to him. She would go up to the yard. She scribbled a note for Rita and placed it on the hall table before leaving the house.

  The yard gates were open but the yard appeared to be deserted. She went over to the house and discovered the door was on the snick. She called Will’s name and walked in.

  She found him in the kitchen, walked straight up to him and put her arms round him. Immediately he returned her hug and they stayed like that for what felt like ages without speaking. Then she said, ‘I’ve really missed you. It’s been agony without you.’

  ‘You love me, then?’

  ‘Don’t be daft!’

  ‘Say it.’

  ‘Haven’t I proved it by telling your brother to get lost and that you’re worth two of him.’

  ‘Only two?’ She could hear the smile in his v
oice.

  ‘Two dozen.’

  ‘Do you love me madly, passionately —’

  ‘How old are we?’

  ‘So you believe that kind of love is only for the young?’

  She gazed up into his face. ‘No. And I have your son to prove it.’

  It was obvious she could not have surprised him more; in that respect she had to admit he was like his brother. Had the thought occurred to him at all that she could have got pregnant from one moment of passion? His eyes were moist. ‘Why didn’t you write and tell me?’

  ‘You were too far away. Already had a son, or so I believed. You were set on finding him and I didn’t want to prevent that. I just didn’t think it was going to take so long for you to find him and that you’d get sick. I had to cope — so I did.’

  ‘My God! You’re a strong woman! Are you sure you don’t hate me for not being there to make an honest woman of you?’

  ‘Not hate,’ she said, stroking his face. ‘But you’d better do it soon. Jonathan is growing and I want you there to enjoy him, like I do.’ He kissed her and they went on kissing, unaware of what was happening outside.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Rita read the note on the hall table and smiled. ‘You can eat Aunt Margaret’s lunch,’ she said to Billy, who had turned up at the shop half an hour ago, wanting to talk to Sam about getting back to work at the yard. The lorry had been fixed. ‘You’re not going to believe this but Jimmy’s vamoosed and taken the cash box with him. Mr Dixon’s told me because he doesn’t like breaking the news to Dad himself. He’s ashamed of having been taken in and of giving him access to things he shouldn’t have.’ Sam had not looked too happy but said he would go after lunch. That had pleased Rita.

  She went downstairs to tell Cook, expecting to find Josh with her, but Mrs Richards said she had not seen him for ages. ‘Perhaps your aunt’s taken him out with her.’

  ‘She would have mentioned it in her note,’ said Rita.

 

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