by Anna King
Richard was himself thinking the same thing. Throwing back the drink, he quickly replenished his glass, his mind turning this way and that, trying to find some way out of his predicament. But this time there was no way out. He was utterly ruined, in every sense of the word. If it had only been the loss of his money that was the root of his problems, he could have possibly found a way to recoup his wealth, given time. But there was no way he was going to escape from the charge of attempted rape. Once that news hit the papers, he would be ostracised. Even if he got off the charge, and that he very much doubted, he was finished. He had no money, he was going to prison, and, depending on the length of the prison term, by the time he came out he would be an old man with nothing to live for.
Like a drowning man, Richard cast his mind back over the years, trying to find out where his life had gone so badly wrong. And the answer came flashing in front of his eyes. Maude! If she hadn’t put the kibosh on his wedding to Ivy the first time around, he would by now be a happily married man surrounded by his own children. Then he would have had no need to bring those blasted Bradfords back with him to London, and would have been spared the temptation of the delightful Amy, a temptation that had proved to be his final downfall. All that had happened could have been avoided, if it hadn’t been for Maude. His eyes red, his heart and soul filled with loathing, he looked across at the woman he blamed for all his misfortunes.
‘You!’ The word was spat out between clenched teeth, and such was the bitterness and hatred echoed in that one word that Maude felt the first twinge of fear. She had been startled into a scream when Rebecca had appeared brandishing that gun, but she hadn’t been afraid for her own safety. It had been obvious it was Richard Rebecca had come looking for. Now, looking into the murderous gaze of her brother, Maude felt the trickle of fear begin to gather momentum. Pulling her cumbersome frame forward, she was about to rise when Richard’s low, thick voice stopped her.
‘It’s all your fault, you revolting fat bitch from hell. You couldn’t stand to see me happy, could you? All those years ago, when I had a chance of happiness with Ivy, you couldn’t stand it, could you? So you suddenly became a cripple overnight, and like the young fool I was, I believed you, and look where it got me. Ivy saw through you, even the doctors I brought in knew you were faking it, but I stood by you, and gave up my chance of happiness to look after you. And this is where it’s got me.’
Recovering her composure Maude shot back bitterly, ‘Don’t give me all that malarkey. If it had been down to you, you’d have shoved me into a home and not thought twice about it. The only reason you stayed with me was because you were worried about what people might think if you sent me away. That’s always been your trouble, Richard. Always worried about what other people thought of you, and do you want to know something funny? Despite all your efforts to convince people you’re such a nice man, you never fooled anyone. People aren’t fools, they can sum up a man’s character by themselves, but you were convinced that if you acted the part, people would like you and respect you. Huh! That’s a laugh. Nobody’s ever had the slightest respect for you, Richard, that’s a commodity that has to be earned, and you, my dear, pitiful brother, just don’t have that quality, and never will have. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to be present when the police come for you.’ Heaving herself out of the chair she said mockingly, ‘You want to know something else that’s funny, Richard? Before Rebecca turned up, I was making plans for my future. You see, I’ve got a tidy sum put away under my bed, and a good bit gathering interest in the bank. You thought I’d spent all my inheritance, didn’t you? But I must have known I’d be left on my own one day, so I took the precaution of investing in a nest egg. I was going to find myself somewhere else to live, but now you’ve saved me the trouble. I can stay here now, ’cos you won’t be here much longer.’ She let out a grating laugh of triumph. ‘I’ll be upstairs counting my money. When the police come, go quietly, won’t you, Richard? After all, we don’t want the neighbours seeing you in your true light, do we? Because I know how much appearances mean to you. Though once word gets round that you tried to rape your own cousin, and her only fifteen… Well! Even I didn’t think you’d stoop that low. Maybe Rebecca might have done you a good turn if she had shot you. At least she would have spared you the humiliation and ordeal of a public trial.’
Giggling quietly, she had one foot on the bottom stair when Richard’s voice, low and menacing, halted her in her tracks. ‘You spiteful, deceiving bitch. Do you really think I’m going to let you live in comfort while I’m rotting in jail? Oh, no, Maude, my dear, loyal sister. We’ve been together all my life, more’s the pity, and I’d hate to be parted from you now.’
A chill ran up Maude’s back. Turning slowly, she saw Richard holding the gun Rebecca had brought to the house. Her eyes blinking furiously, she stared at the small, silver pistol, her mouth suddenly dry. She’d forgotten all about the gun. Swallowing hard, she attempted to reason with Richard. A conciliatory note in her voice now, she wheedled, ‘Don’t be silly, Richard. Look, I didn’t mean what I said. There’s enough money for both of us. I’ll get you a good lawyer, the best, I promise you. I mean, this business with Amy…’ She laughed nervously. ‘It’s only her word against yours after all.’
Her lips parted in a startled scream as the first bullet tore into her thigh. ‘Richard… don’t…’ She fell heavily on the bottom stair, her eyes beseeching as she gazed up at the man standing over her. ‘I’m your sister, Richard… I’m your own flesh and blood…’ Her body jumped as another bullet entered her shoulder.
Richard stood looking down at the mountainous form of the woman now lying helpless at the foot of the stairs, his gaze merciless. ‘That’s right, Maude. You’re my own flesh and blood, God help us both. And now you’re going to get what you’ve always wanted. We’re going to be together for ever. Goodbye, Maude.’
Keeping the gun steady, Richard fired two more bullets into her huge frame, then, without giving himself time to think, he held the gun under his chin, took one last look around the house he had been born in, closed his eyes tightly and squeezed the trigger.
Chapter Thirty
The wedding of Rebecca Bradford to Jimmy Jackson hit the front pages of both the local paper and the dailies. Not because of Jimmy’s relatively minor fame, but due to the fact that the bride was the cousin of the couple involved in the murder and suicide scandal that had rocked the East End. Mercifully, Amy’s name had been left out of the sordid affair. Those who knew what had triggered Rebecca’s visit to Richard Fisher’s home were keeping quiet; and the only other two who knew were now dead. There had been much speculation as to the whys and wherefores of the case, but as only Billy Gates had witnessed the actual event, and that loyal man was keeping his mouth tightly closed, no one ever knew what had really happened the day Richard Fisher had murdered his sister before turning the gun on himself. Gradually interest died away as new headlines took over the front pages.
So it was that by the time Amy, on her seventeenth birthday in February 1914, married Charles Bull, the quiet ceremony went virtually unnoticed. Rebecca, as matron of honour, looking beautiful in a pale blue gown, stood behind her sister as Amy made her vows in the cold church.
Dr Tom Barker, who had given Rebecca away, now proudly repeated his duty as he stood in for Amy’s late father.
Neither young woman would ever forget the awful tragedy that had occurred, but with the passing of time, and with their husbands beside them, Rebecca and Amy looked forward to a happy life; their only regret was that Phil, because of his own actions, was no longer a part of their lives.
For Rebecca, there was another person to worry about. Even though she was safely married to Jimmy, she still thought about Heather Mills. James was settled now. He looked upon Jimmy as his father, and adored and hero-worshipped the strong, handsome man he so proudly called Dad. He had taken the news of Jimmy’s forthcoming marriage to Rebecca with ill-concealed fear, until they had sat down with him a
nd reassured the child that nothing had changed regarding his position in Jimmy’s life.
*
Now, on a warm Sunday morning in April, James was walking happily between his father and Rebecca, his small hands clasping the protective ones either side of him. Every now and then, he was swung into the air, his high-pitched childish cries of glee filling the spring air.
Stopping for a rest on a park bench, Jimmy and Rebecca watched fondly as James ran around the park, kicking his favourite ball.
There was someone else watching the family scene. From the pavilion, Heather Mills sipped at her tea, her green eyes following her son’s every move.
It had been over a year since she had last clapped eyes on either Jimmy or James. During that time she had seethed and plotted at ways to get her son back, and in the process have Jimmy beholden to her until James grew to adulthood. When Jimmy had disappeared with the child, Heather had been furious, but unable to do anything about it. So she had bided her time and waited as patiently as she knew how.
During that time Heather hadn’t been idle. She had soon met someone else, and allowed herself to be supported by the besotted man until his wife had found out what her esteemed husband was up to. Still, she’d come out of the short-lived affair with a nice fat cheque in exchange for her silence. That cheque had made Jimmy’s hundred pounds seem paltry, yet still she wasn’t satisfied.
But she had made one big mistake. She had dismissed Rebecca as being just another novelty to Jimmy, and had been dumbfounded when, after only knowing the girl a relatively short time, he had married her. Yet even that hadn’t deterred Heather. In her mind she still thought of Jimmy as being her private property. Even now he was married, Heather still imagined she could get him back, if only through the child. That was the only hold she had over Jimmy now, and she wasn’t going to relinquish it easily. She would never have Jimmy’s name, but she was still the mother of his son, and nothing would ever alter that fact.
Throwing down two florins on the tray, she left the pavilion and strolled casually towards where James was happily playing by himself. She passed within feet of the couple on the bench, her lips curling triumphantly as she witnessed their startled surprise. Satisfied that they had seen her, Heather approached her son.
*
‘Jimmy! It’s her; it’s Heather. Oh, Jimmy…!’
Rebecca made to rise, only to find her arm held in a firm but gentle grip.
‘Leave it, sweetheart.’
Bewildered, Rebecca looked down at Jimmy’s impassive face. ‘But, Jimmy. Remember what she tried to do the last time? What if she tries to take James away again.’
Pulling her gently down beside him, Jimmy said quietly, ‘I can’t live the next ten years looking over my shoulder, always afraid that one day she’ll appear and take James away from me. Don’t you see, sweetheart, that’s why I left you to take James away, so that he would have the chance to get to know me, and trust me. So that he would look on me as his real dad, not just another so-called uncle who would walk out of his life without warning. I knew this day would come eventually. Now I can only hope and pray that James will never leave me voluntarily. I need to know he wants to stay with me out of love, and not just because his mother isn’t around. Sit down, love. The day of reckoning is finally here. I only hope all my efforts haven’t been for nothing.’
Her heart thudding, Rebecca did as Jimmy bid, but she couldn’t relax. In the short time she’d spent with James, she had come to love the young boy. Yet even if she hadn’t taken to the child, she knew that to lose his son would destroy Jimmy. Even if eventually they had children of their own, Rebecca knew no child she gave him would ever replace his first-born son. She knew that and understood it. Glancing at Jimmy, she saw the anxiety mirrored in his eyes, belying his outwardly calm exterior, and her heart went out to him. Reaching out, she took hold of his hand, and Jimmy, his attention focused on his son and the red-haired woman approaching the small figure, clung onto Rebecca’s hand like a drowning man.
*
‘Hello, darling. Aren’t you going to say hello to your mummy?’
James looked up, his small body jerking in surprise as he saw his mother bending over him.
‘He… Hello, Mummy. I didn’t see you. How are you, Mummy?’
Heather threw her head back and laughed gaily. ‘My! How formal you are, son. Anyone would think I was a stranger. Don’t I get a kiss from my favourite little boy?’
James’s eyes darted anxiously towards the park bench, his small body relaxing somewhat as he saw Jimmy and Rebecca were still there. For a moment he had been afraid they had left him. His lips trembling slightly, James waved towards the bench, and was reassured when both Jimmy and Rebecca waved back. More importantly, they showed no sign of leaving.
Heather’s sharp eyes noted James’s relief and she felt a surge of anger. This wasn’t what she had expected. She had thought James would be all over her the moment she appeared. Keeping a smile pasted to her lips, she bent down and scooped the confused child up into her arms.
‘How about we go for a walk, James, eh? Just the two of us. Then you can tell me all your news, and…’ Heather stumbled as the child began to struggle in her arms.
‘Don’t, Mummy, don’t. I can’t go with you, not without Dad. Please, Mummy… You’re hurting me, Mummy. Let me go, Mummy. I want my dad… Dad… Dad…!’ His plaintive wail split the air.
In that instant, Jimmy was off the bench and striding towards the struggling figures. ‘I’ll have my son back, if you don’t mind, Heather. You seem to be frightening him.’ Reaching out, Jimmy took hold of James’s arm, but Heather clung on grimly.
‘Don’t be stupid, woman,’ Jimmy hissed beneath his breath. ‘Don’t you see you’ve lost. If you’ve any real feelings for the boy, then let him go, or lose him for ever.’
Heather glared into the handsome face, her eyes blazing. Then she heard the child’s quiet sobs and her arms loosened their hold on her son. The moment she relinquished her grip, James flew into Jimmy’s arms, his small frame hanging onto the broad figure as if his life depended on it. And the feel of his son’s arms gripping him so fiercely washed away any lingering doubt Jimmy might have had. An overwhelming surge of relief flooded Jimmy’s body, causing him a momentary weakness in his limbs. His son loved him, truly loved him and wanted to be with him. He need never worry about Heather again.
‘You’d better go, Heather. Your presence is upsetting the child.’
Heather drew back, a look of defeat showing in her eyes, then she shrugged. ‘All right, Jimmy, you win. You can’t say I didn’t try, but then, I was never one to give in easily, was I?’
Jimmy looked hard into the face of the woman he had once loved with a young man’s passion and smiled ruefully. ‘No, you never were, Heather. But you always knew when to call it a day too; and that day is here.’
‘Can’t I at least kiss my son goodbye?’
Jimmy nipped at his bottom lip. Then, gently pulling James’s arms loose from his neck, he smiled into the tremulous face and said, ‘Your mummy’s going now, James. Give her a kiss goodbye, there’s a good boy.’
James peeped at the beautiful woman who was his mother, his small lips quivering, his young mind torn between both parents. Then he lifted his face to Heather and, his voice tinged with nervous anxiety, he said, ‘Bye, Mummy. Will you come and see me at Dad’s house?’
Kissing the smooth cheek, Heather stepped back. ‘I’ll try, James, but I can’t promise. Mummy has to go away again, but you be a good boy for your dad, and I’ll see you when I can. Goodbye, love.’
Snuggling against Jimmy’s chest, James smiled shyly. ‘Bye, Mummy. I’ll see you soon.’
With one last look into the green eyes, Jimmy nodded curtly and strode away.
*
If he had waited another moment, Jimmy would have seen those same eyes suddenly fill with tears. Heather watched the trio leave the park and swallowed hard over the lump that had formed in her throat. For t
he first time in her life she was experiencing real emotions. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she would feel the loss of her only child so acutely, but as she watched her son walking out of her life for good, the welling in her eyes intensified.
‘Miss Mills. Good afternoon, how nice to meet you like this.’
Shaken out of her reverie, Heather spun around to face the plump, eager-faced man. Immediately a smile attached itself to her full lips.
‘Mr Cooksly, how lovely to see you. Are you by yourself?’
Jeremy Cooksly, the manager of the bank where Heather had an account, smiled broadly. ‘Alas, madam, I am always by myself. And you?’ he added hopefully.
Heather gave a tinkling laugh. ‘It seems we find ourselves in a similar position, sir. I wonder… Would you be so kind as to escort me to the high street? There are so many undesirables roaming the streets, a woman doesn’t feel safe without a man by her side.’
‘Of course, of course, Miss Mills. I’d be delighted.’ The man’s face lit up in delight, as he extended his arm. Heather put her arm through his. It seemed she had found another mug; he wasn’t much, but he would do for now.
As she left the park, she glanced over her shoulder for one last look at her son, and once again felt her throat tighten and tears prick the back of her eyes. It came as a shock to Heather to discover, too late, that she really loved her son, inasmuch as she was capable of loving anyone. Blinking rapidly, she sent a silent message after her child.
Goodbye, darling. Have a long and happy life. I was never a good mother, but I did love you. In my own way, I did love you.
Then she tightened her hold on the man’s arm and walked out of her son’s life for ever.
*