A Mother's Duty

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A Mother's Duty Page 10

by June Francis


  Kitty was not so sure if it was all down to John but she was not going to bring Jimmy into the conversation with Annie still there. ‘I don’t see what good it’ll do,’ she murmured. ‘The big fella’ll be miles away now but I doubt if he’s got to where he’s going. If that’s true these Irish friends mightn’t be able to get in touch with him.’

  ‘Perhaps he’ll telephone them? Anyway, it’s worth ringing them if it makes our Ben happy.’

  She nodded. ‘You’re right. Although I’ll feel a right prune ringing up this number without knowing the name of the person who’s going to answer at the other end.’

  ‘I suppose Celia thought we knew their name with knowing about them,’ said Mick.

  Kitty glanced at him. ‘What’s this Celia like?’

  ‘OK. A bit nosy but OK,’ he said, lowering his head to his homework.

  Kitty hesitated, wanting to know a little more. After all the girl was the big fella’s god-daughter, but Mick seemed to have lost himself in his work now and she decided not to disturb him.

  The next morning she went down to the Post Office and put a call through from there. It was answered by a woman with a hint of an Irish accent who repeated the number Kitty had dialled and asked could she help.

  Kitty hesitated before plunging into speech. ‘You don’t know me but I’m trying to get in touch with Mr McLeod, a Mr John McLeod, and I’ve been given your number.’

  ‘Your name?’ said the voice.

  ‘Ryan. Mrs Kitty Ryan.’

  ‘Never heard of you,’ said the voice cheerfully. ‘But I suppose that’s not so surprising. What is, is that you have our number.’

  Kitty was taken aback. ‘Celia gave me it. You do know her?’

  ‘I know her.’

  For a moment Kitty did not know what to say next. Then realised it might be helpful if she knew the woman on the other end of the line’s name. ‘Who am I speaking to, by the way?’

  ‘Mrs Rebekah O’Neill.’

  ‘Are you a widow?’ She did not know why she asked.

  The voice sounded amused. ‘Are you?’

  ‘Yes. But—’ Kitty was wishing she had not asked now and said stiffly, ‘I don’t really know what that’s got to do with anything.’

  ‘Oh, I think it does if you’re asking me the same question and wanting to get in touch with John. You wouldn’t be the first widow to ring this number wanting him to help her.’

  What was that supposed to mean? thought Kitty. Her heart was starting to thump in an uncomfortable way and she felt terribly embarrassed. What was this Mrs O’Neill thinking and what was she to the big fella?

  ‘Are you in trouble?’ asked the voice at the end. ‘If you are perhaps—’

  Kitty replaced the receiver and left the booth. She had been daft to telephone. If John McLeod had wanted her to be able to get in touch with him then he would have given her the number or an address where she could reach him. She would have to deal with Charley herself.

  Kitty told Mick and Ben she had not been able to get hold of John. ‘It’s as I said and they don’t know where he is.’ She did not look up from buttering bread for a bread and butter pudding.

  ‘Couldn’t they send a letter to where he’s going?’ said Ben anxiously.

  ‘They might do that,’ she said brightly. ‘Don’t you be worrying. Everything’ll be all right. You’ll see.’

  Despite her words Kitty felt as if a dark cloud hovered over her during the next few days, due not only to her concern over whether Charley would return but also to her wondering if she might have found out more about John if she hadn’t been so hasty in cutting short her telephone call.

  The weather changed for the worse and there were blizzards, which were so bad that all football fixtures throughout the country were cancelled. Kitty found her imagination running riot, picturing the big fella frozen in a snowdrift. She sent up a prayer for him, comforting herself with the thought that he was used to being out in the open and would surely have found shelter.

  A slow thaw followed and Monday morning found Kitty, Annie and the girl who came in to help with the laundry, hanging washing on the back basement room drying racks where there was a copper boiler and a deep white sink and small fireplace. Outside it was damp and miserable. When they were finished Kitty went up to one of the bedrooms belonging to a guest who had checked out that morning. It was whilst she was in there she heard the sound of breaking glass. She ran in the direction of the noise and cautiously opened the door, relieved that the room was empty. She bent to pick up the brick which lay among the shattered glass before gazing out of the window. Cold air came through a jagged hole, chilling her hot face. She had no doubts about who had thrown the brick. What a mess! Was that Charley? Her eyes rested on a brown-coated back on the other side of the road. Without thinking twice she ran out of the room still clutching the brick.

  ‘What’s up?’ called Annie and the girl coming out of the door under the stairs.

  ‘That swine Charley’s broken one of our windows.’

  Annie’s mouth tightened. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Go after him, of course,’ said Kitty, opening the front door. She gazed about her and saw the man she thought was the culprit making his way down the Mount. She sped across the road, narrowly avoiding a coal waggon. The man went round a corner and she was just in time to see him disappearing inside Lewis’s departmental store. She made to cross the road only to be stopped by the policeman on point duty.

  ‘And where d’you think you’re going with that?’ he said. ‘It’s an offensive weapon.’ He tapped the brick with his truncheon.

  ‘It’s only a brick,’ said Kitty. ‘And the man—’

  ‘Don’t be smart with me,’ he interrupted. ‘I can see it’s a brick. What I want to know is were you thinking of smashing a shop window with it?’

  ‘Don’t be daft! I’m chasing someone. He—’

  ‘Going to hit him with it, are you?’

  Kitty’s patience began to slip. ‘A fat chance I have of that with you stopping me,’ she said scornfully.

  The policeman hunched heavy brows. ‘I don’t like your tone.’ He prodded her with his truncheon. ‘And I’ve a good mind to take you down to the station.’

  Kitty lost her temper. ‘Don’t poke me!’ she yelled. ‘Why don’t you try catching a real thief if you’re so worried about crime! As for this brick! Here, take it!’ She shoved it against his chest and ran, but by the time she was inside Lewis’s it was too late. The man had vanished.

  Annie was on the front step leaning on the yard brush when a shivering Kitty arrived back at the hotel. ‘Well?’ demanded her cousin. ‘Yer didn’t catch him, did yer?’

  ‘No, thanks to some stupid policeman,’ said Kitty crossly. ‘My feet are soaking and I’ll have to change my stockings. I’m splashed up to me thighs!’

  ‘Yer were wasting yer time. It wasn’t him. He’s been back here demanding money and threatening me. I stuck me brush in his face and told him to get lost.’ She gave a satisfied smile. ‘He didn’t like that one little bit.’

  Kitty stared at her with a sinking heart but she did not say what she was thinking. Instead she said, ‘You gutsy thing! Let’s go and have a cup of tea and then I’ll have to get out the glazier and have that window fixed.’

  Kitty was feeling intimidated but was nevertheless determined to carry on as if nothing had happened once she had seen the glazier. At ten minutes to four she put on her wellies and went to meet Ben from school.

  She was standing at the junction of Bedford Street and Oxford Street when she heard her youngest son shouting her and caught sight of him on the other side of the road where there was a crowd of children. She waved, keeping her eye on him, only for him to be obliterated from her vision by a large shiny black car splashing its way between them. When the car passed there was no sign of him.

  She hurried across the road, surrounded by children coming in the opposite direction and searched their faces but Ben’s was no
t among them. Where had he gone? Was he hiding like he did sometimes? She reached the opposite pavement and hurried first one way and then the other, searching steps and doorways. She began to feel scared remembering the way Ben had spoken to Charley and what his response had been. She told herself to calm down. She was letting her imagination run away with her. How could Charley possibly know Ben would come this way from school? Unless – unless he’d been keeping a watch on the house and had seen Teddy taking him to school? Her fear intensified and she ran homewards, slithering down the slippery pavements until a stitch in her side caused her to slow down.

  Then suddenly Ben was there jumping out on her and saying, ‘Stick ’em up!’

  Kitty caught him by the shoulder and shook him violently. ‘What have I told you about wandering off?’ she yelled. ‘You’ve had me worried sick!’

  ‘It was only a game!’ He stared up at her with wide reproachful eyes.

  ‘A game! How did you get past without me seeing you?’

  ‘I crouched down and pulled me coat over me head and hid among the others. I was being a bandit that’s all,’ he said, clutching at her. ‘Don’t be angry with me, Ma.’

  ‘There’s enough bandits around! I want you to be good, good!’ She seized his hand and hurried him along, trying to behave normally but inside she was trembling. Then she received another shock. Outside her hotel a car was parked and Teddy was talking to a woman and a girl.

  ‘It’s Celia from the pet shop,’ said Ben, and hid behind his mother.

  ‘Ma, this is Mrs O’Neill,’ said Teddy as Kitty approached. ‘She wants to speak to you privately.’

  Kitty wished she had not been caught out like this. Mrs O’Neill wore dainty boots, the latest pull-on hat and a dog-toothed patterned suit in brown and cream which hugged her waist and hips and made her look real smart. Kitty felt like a frump in her wellies and old winter coat. ‘You’d best come in,’ she said stiffly, releasing Ben’s hand and leaving him with Teddy.

  Without waiting for the other woman’s response, she led the way indoors, slipping off her wellies in the vestibule and carrying them into the empty kitchen.

  ‘You’re cross with me,’ said Mrs O’Neill, following her in.

  ‘Not really,’ said Kitty, startled by her forthrightness. ‘I’ve just had a fright and I wasn’t expecting you.’

  ‘I’m sorry about that. But I thought it best if I just came along. I went to see Celia and she told me about you and your sons.’ She stared at Kitty from curious green eyes. ‘John’s never mentioned you.’

  ‘Perhaps he didn’t think me worth mentioning,’ said Kitty.

  ‘Oh no! I don’t think it’s that,’ said Mrs O’Neill, smiling. ‘May I sit down?’

  ‘Sorry.’ Kitty reddened. ‘I should have taken you into the Smoking Room. It’s more comfortable there.’

  ‘This’ll do fine.’ The other woman seated herself. ‘Perhaps I’d better explain that I’m not a widow. I have a husband and three children and it’s due to my husband that I know John.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’ said Kitty awkwardly as she poked the slumbering fire so that the coal flared up.

  ‘Because of the way you put the phone down. I thought, this woman is proud. She doesn’t like asking for help but she’s turned to John which means she must know him well enough to believe he would help her.’

  Kitty stiffened. ‘You’re right. Although I don’t know him that well.’

  ‘That makes it even more interesting.’ The other woman gazed expectantly at her but Kitty was more interested in hearing what Mrs O’Neill had to say about John. After a pause the other woman continued, ‘Your son tells me you’re in trouble.’

  ‘Did he now?’ Kitty was surprised. ‘And did you tell him you were a friend of Mr McLeod’s?’

  ‘I told him I’d heard you were in trouble from Celia and that I was here to help. He said you’ve been threatened by someone called Charley, who sounds like he’s trying to get a protection racket going. Celia filled in the gaps. She’s seen him in action. It was then your son explained about John’s involvement.’

  Kitty took a deep breath, even so her voice trembled when she spoke. ‘I’m not blaming John. How was he to know Charley would come here and threaten me with a knife and steal from me and then break my windows?’

  ‘That bad! Poor you. Do let me help?’ Her tone was so sympathetic that tears filled Kitty’s eyes.

  She looked away hurriedly and said unsteadily, ‘I told myself I wasn’t going to let him frighten me but then Ben played a stupid trick on me today and I was terrified that Charley had got to him. I was ready to give him anything as long as he left my children alone.’

  ‘You really believe he might harm your sons?’

  ‘I wouldn’t put anything past him.’ She rubbed her eyes with the back of a hand.

  ‘You’ve thought of the police?’

  ‘Yes. But—’

  ‘You’d rather keep them out of this?’

  Kitty nodded. ‘Guests don’t like disruptions. Especially if it involves the police. I just don’t know what to do. There’s my uncle but he’s no match for Charley and I can’t involve the neighbours.’

  ‘You don’t think Charley would try and turn the screws on them?’

  Kitty stared at her. ‘I never thought of that – but he’s only one man isn’t he? I mean it’s one thing threatening a woman without a man but he might be taking on more than he can chew if he tried threatening other people.’

  ‘He might think of it, though. And he might think of enlisting other thugs like himself.’

  ‘I don’t know if he’s got the brains,’ said Kitty, her brows knitting. ‘That would take organising.’

  ‘Well, let’s stop him how, just in case. We can’t get in touch with John but we can enlist my husband’s help. He has men he can call on. Unfortunately he won’t be home from New York until tomorrow but as soon as he arrives I’ll explain the situation to him.’

  Kitty was dumbfounded. ‘Why are you offering to help me like this?’ she said in a low voice. ‘Why should you and your husband want to get involved?’

  Mrs O’Neill wriggled her nose and toyed with her gloves. ‘John’s a friend and the most he’ll ever take from us is a bed for the night. I’ve no idea how you met but the fact that he hasn’t mentioned you I find interesting. He’s been here several times I believe?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Kitty. ‘He did some work for me. I sort of offered him a permanent job but—’

  ‘You’d really have him to stay despite the way he lives?’

  Kitty smiled. ‘I’d expect him to change his lifestyle. There would be no need for him to busk and go wandering if he had a permanent roof over his head.’

  ‘If only you could get him to do that,’ said Mrs O’Neill fervently. ‘Daniel’s been trying to get him to settle down for ages but he keeps saying he’s happy as he is.’ She rose to her feet. ‘I’d best be going. I’ve left the girls with my maid, Hannah, and she isn’t the most patient of people.’

  ‘I should have given you a cup of tea,’ said Kitty apologetically.

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ The other woman smiled. ‘Come and have tea with us when the weather improves. In the meantime I won’t forget to speak to Daniel but don’t forget to lock all your doors and windows tonight.’

  ‘I certainly won’t,’ said Kitty, returning her smile. She saw her visitor out, scarcely able to believe that soon her trouble with Charley would be a thing of the past. That was if the beautiful Mrs O’Neill’s husband really could be depended on to help a perfect stranger. It almost seemed too good to be true.

  Chapter Six

  The rock came through the basement window just as Kitty arrived downstairs after seeing Ben to bed. It sent glass flying onto the linoleum and startled the cat out of its box.

  ‘Blinking heck!’ Teddy shot to his feet and the book slid from Mick’s knee onto the floor. They stared at Kitty, wide-eyed as she reached for the poker and made for the
area door. This could not be happening when she had believed it over. It was two days since she had spoken to Mrs O’Neill and they had not been disturbed by Charley in that time.

  ‘No, Ma, it’s dark out there,’ hissed Teddy, grabbing hold of her arm. ‘He might be waiting to get hold of you.’

  Still clutching the poker, Kitty sank onto a chair feeling sick with apprehension. She stared at the curtains fluttering in the cold air coming through the hole. Swine! She could murder him for giving her a shock like that but thank God he had not chosen to break one of the guests’ windows. But why hadn’t he? And why hadn’t Mr O’Neill done something about him? Perhaps his wife had been wrong about his willingness to get involved?

  There came a scrabbling noise at the area door and instinctively she rose to her feet. ‘What’s he up to?’ whispered Mick.

  ‘I’ll have a gander out of the window,’ muttered Teddy. But before he could do so there came a keening noise which caused the hairs to rise on the nape of his neck.

  ‘What was that?’ whispered Mick.

  ‘Get out of my way,’ said Kitty, gripping the poker tightly and heading for the door. Mick and Teddy followed close at her heels as she drew back the bolts.

  A large bundle lay in a heap on the threshold but Kitty could see no one as she glanced outside and up through the area railings onto the pavement. The keening sound came again and she looked down at the bundle at her feet. It moved. She bent to have a closer look and her blood seemed to run cold. ‘Help me, Mick,’ she said, thrusting the poker at Teddy.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked.

  Kitty’s feelings threatened to choke her but she managed to gain control of her voice. ‘It’s Annie. Help me lift her.’

  ‘What’s he done to her?’

  ‘Don’t ask questions! Just lift!’

  They managed to get their arms under her and to lift. Annie’s eyes remained shut but that keening cry issued from her swollen lips again, unnerving them so much that they nearly dropped her. They shuffled over to the sofa and placed her down. ‘Teddy, shoot those bolts,’ ordered Kitty. ‘Then the pair of you go and look in the yard for a piece of wood to board up the window.’

 

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