‘No, no,’ May shouted, trying to pull him away from Anna, but now Douglas grasped May from behind, pinning her arms to her sides and holding her fast. Tears coursed down May’s face. ‘Anna, Anna—’ she cried, watching with horrified eyes whilst her daughter struggled to throw Bruce off her, but he held her easily, laughing cruelly. ‘Yeah, go on, struggle all you like. You won’t get the better of me.’ He glanced round to look triumphantly at May and his father. ‘We’ve got you both just where we want you now, haven’t we?’
Whether it was because Bruce relaxed his concentration for a brief moment or because Anna made one last superhuman effort, but somehow she freed her leg from beneath him, bent her knee and, pressing her foot and elbow against the floor managed to roll him over. Without waiting for him to recover from her surprise move, she brought her knee up viciously into his groin, so that Bruce gave a cry of pain and doubled over, writhing on the floor.
Anna scrambled to her feet and turned towards her mother.
‘Leave me,’ May gasped. ‘Don’t worry about me, darling. I mean it. Just go. Go on. Run, Anna. Get away from here. Run, Anna, just run . . .’
1963
Fifty
‘Who on earth were those two lunatics? They knocked me off my bike,’ Tony asked his mother indignantly.
Bertha smiled. ‘Oh, we had a very nice chat.’
Tony looked at her in surprise. ‘You did? You’ve been chatting to complete strangers?’
Bertha nodded, looking very pleased with herself.
‘Who were they?’
‘A father and son called Whittaker.’ Her smile widened maliciously. ‘They came looking for someone. I’ll give you three guesses who. Did you see the younger feller?’
‘Not really. It was all too quick. I just saw two men in the car. I got their number plate, though. Reckon I’ll have a word with PC Jenkins—’
‘I wouldn’t, because they might be doing us a big favour.’
Tony eyed her. It was a long time since he had seen his mother with a gleam in her eye. She was excited about something.
Tony frowned. ‘What’s going on, Mam? And what do you mean “they came looking for someone”?’
‘Exactly what I say. The younger feller – well, the older one too mebbe, though his hair’s grey now – but the younger feller had bright red hair. Copper coloured. Just like the girl’s.’
Tony stared at her. ‘You mean – Maisie?’
‘Course I mean Maisie. What other little trollop around here has red hair?’
‘They came looking for Maisie?’
‘Well, I suppose it was more her, Anna. They didn’t even know about Maisie. Didn’t even know Anna had been pregnant. Thrilled, the young feller was, to think he was a dad. And the old one kept saying, “I’ve got a granddaughter. Just think, I’m a granddad.” Of course, they wanted to see them straight away . . .’
‘And you told them?’ Now Tony was incredulous.
‘Course I did . . .’
Tony’s face was thunderous. ‘Why, Mam? When you know that’s who she must have run away from? That’s who she must be so frightened of.’
Suddenly, Bertha’s expression was ugly. ‘Why should I care? Why should I protect her? Your dad’s fancy piece . . .’
The truth was filtering through Tony’s mind now. He pointed accusingly at his mother. ‘You’ve lied to me. All these years you’ve tried to make me believe that – that Maisie was his child and my half-sister. But she wasn’t, was she, Mam? ’Cos now you’re saying that this red-haired feller that turned up today was her dad.’ He paused a moment and then added again incredulously, ‘Why, Mam? Why?’
Now Bertha was truculent, trying to justify herself. ‘Well, I thought she was. Men are all the same. Why else would he have brought the little trollop home with him that night if he wasn’t getting his oats there? Or at least hoping to. All right, mebbe Maisie isn’t his, but I bet they’ve been at it all these years since.’
Tony’s last glance at his mother, before he turned and left the house, was a mixture of contempt and pity.
As he began to walk up the track, he saw Maisie running pell-mell towards him, her hair flying, her skirt above her knees.
‘Tony, Tony, hurry—’ Even before she reached him he could see that she was crying hysterically. He caught her and held her. ‘What is it? Is it your mam? Did those two men frighten her?’
‘No – yes – it’s worse. Your dad. He – he tried to defend her and one of them had got a knife—’ Maisie could say no more as sobs racked her.
‘Oh my God,’ Tony breathed. ‘Is he hurt?’
Maisie could only nod. Releasing her, Tony began to run up the track, pausing only to say, ‘Go to the house. Use the phone. Get help.’
Maisie rushed into the house, ignoring Bertha, and grabbed the phone.
‘’Ere, ’ere, what do you think you’re doing, miss?’ Bertha protested, but the girl, still crying, ignored her. With shaking fingers, she dialled Pat’s number. The district nurse was the only person she could think of to ring. She was certainly the nearest. The ringing tone seemed to sound in her ears for ages, until Pat’s breathless voice said, ‘Hello. You just caught me. I was on my way out. Who is it?’
‘It’s Mr Eddie . . . I mean, this is Maisie. Mr Eddie’s been hurt. Stabbed—’ Dimly the girl heard the listening Bertha cry out.
‘I’ll come at once,’ was all Pat said.
Maisie replaced the receiver in its cradle and turned to face Bertha who was staring disbelievingly at her.
‘What do you mean stabbed?’
Now that Pat was on her way, Maisie was managing to control her hysteria. Pat would help Mr Eddie. She was a nurse. If anyone could save him, it would be Pat.
‘Those two men. They grabbed me mam and me and Mr Eddie tried to help us. The younger one had a knife. He went for Mr Eddie and – and stabbed him in the stomach.’
Bertha felt for the edge of the table and sat down heavily, staring unseeingly ahead. Maisie turned and left the house, running back up the hill.
Left alone, Bertha sat motionless. What had she done? she asked herself silently. She had sought to wreak revenge on Anna and her daughter. She had waited years for the right moment and when the two strangers had turned up on her doorstep, looking for Anna, Bertha had believed they had been heaven-sent. And now her husband was lying injured, possibly fatally.
Reluctantly, the bitter, twisted woman was forced to face the truth. All those years ago Anna had obviously had good reason to run away. Bertha could make a good guess at why. So, when he brought her home, Eddie hadn’t known her. It was the truth he had told her. It was just him being kind. She thought back down all the years. He had always been kind. It was his nature. Look how he’d rushed to help all those folks at the time of the floods. He’d had no need. They were nothing to him. But that was Eddie.
He’d never said an unkind thing about her father, not even when Bert Tinker had been sent to prison. Throughout their marriage, he had never raised his hand to her, not once, yet she had given him cause. Oh yes, she had given him cause all right. He’d done his best to be a good husband, but she’d not let him. And now . . .
Bertha dragged herself up.
For the first time in many years she would have to climb the track and go over the hill.
Pat arrived, breathless and anxious in the yard. Flinging her bicycle against the wall, she dragged her medical bag from its strap on the back of the bicycle and ran up the hill.
Arriving at the top, she saw the sorry scene below her and, though her heart would not let her believe it, she knew already that Eddie was gone. She could see Anna cradling him in her arms, her head bent over him, whilst Tony, who was standing close by, held Maisie, trying to comfort her. A few steps away from the group stood the lonely figure of Bertha, isolated and cut off from the others.
Pat’s fears were justified. When she knelt beside Eddie, she knew before she even touched him, that he was dead. Sadly, she looked up to meet Anna�
��s tear-filled eyes and shook her head.
She was aware that Bertha turned and walked away.
They had to leave Eddie lying there until the police came and, even then, they were allowed no more to do with the body. It was too big an incident for the local bobby to handle. An Inspector came from Ludthorpe and, later, a Detective Chief Inspector from Lincoln. There seemed to be policemen everywhere, searching the ground minutely, taking statements from Anna, Maisie and Tony. And from Bertha.
Anna told them briefly all the events that had led to her flight from home. ‘I was a coward,’ she said flatly. ‘She told me to go, to run – and I did, but I left my poor mother to take the brunt of their fury. God knows what happened to her. I expect they killed her too.’
The Sergeant taking her statement said, ‘What do you mean, love, “killed her too”?’
‘Someone killed my dog, Buster, that night. I suspect it was Bruce and – and then I realized that he – probably helped by his father – had been the poacher and that they – ’ she swallowed painfully – ‘had probably killed my grandfather.’
The officer’s face was grim. ‘Well, if it’s any consolation – and I don’t suppose it is – we’ll get ’em. Oh, we’ll get ’em, sure as eggs is eggs. And we’ll investigate everything you’ve told us. Specially the bit about your granddad.’
Anna regarded him with such pleading in her dark, violet eyes that even the tough Sergeant was moved. ‘Could you find out about my mother? Please?’
‘I’ll do what I can, love. Now, give me any addresses you know.’
‘There’s the farm.’ She gave the address. ‘And there was a house in Lincoln.’ She paused frowning, but little by little she remembered the road and then the number.
‘We’ll check that too,’ the Sergeant promised. He was about to put away his notebook when Anna added, ‘And then there’s the cinema, of course.’
Maisie, who was hovering nearby, and the Sergeant spoke at the same time. ‘The cinema?’
Anna nodded. ‘Yes, Douglas had something to do with running one of the cinemas in the city.’ She wrinkled her forehead. ‘I can’t remember what they called it.’
Maisie gave a little cry and clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide as she stared at her mother. ‘It must be the man who saw us at the ABC cinema. That’s where we went in Lincoln to see Billy Fury. Oh, Mam, it’s all my fault.’
Fifty-One
Maisie was inconsolable at the thought that her disobedience had brought about such tragic consequences.
Anna tried to comfort her. ‘It’s not your fault, darling. I should have told you everything, then you would have understood. You’re old enough now. I shouldn’t have kept you locked away for years. Or myself, for that matter.’ She sighed. ‘I should have faced things a long time ago.’
Even Tony, who was distraught and grieving too, tried to reassure Maisie. ‘I’m as much to blame. I knew your mam didn’t want you going out, specially not to Lincoln, yet I took you there.’ He paused and scratched his head in a gesture so like Eddie’s that Anna felt a lump in her throat. ‘But the only people who are really to blame,’ Tony went on, his tone hardening, ‘are Douglas Whittaker and his son.’
‘My father.’ Maisie wept. ‘Fancy having him for a father.’
Tony tried to smile, though the sadness never left his eyes. ‘That’s not your fault either. And you’ve got Anna for your mother. You couldn’t have a better mother than her. Now, come on.’ He shook her gently by the shoulders. ‘You’ve got to be strong. And the best thing you can do for your mam now is to help us find her mam.’
‘They’ve caught them,’ Tony told Anna and Maisie two weeks later, ‘trying to leave the country.’
Anna nodded. It was a hollow victory; it couldn’t bring Eddie back, or her grandfather, or compensate for the lost seventeen years of her life. ‘I’ve been such a coward, hiding myself away all these years. Not even caring enough to find my own mother.’
‘You were only seventeen or so when you came here, weren’t you? You shouldn’t blame yourself.’
She smiled tremulously at him. ‘You’re just like your father, Tony,’ she told him huskily. ‘So kind. You’re still trying to comfort us even when you must be hurting so dreadfully.’
Tony’s voice was unsteady. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment, shall I?’
Anna nodded. ‘Oh yes. Most definitely. I – I’ve never met a nicer man than Eddie. Only my own father and grandfather came close.’ There was a pause before Anna asked tentatively, afraid to hear the answer, ‘Have the police said any more to you about my – my mother?’
Tony shook his head. ‘They wouldn’t tell me, would they? They’d come to you.’
Anna sighed deeply. ‘I suppose so. I did so hope that . . .’ Her voice trailed away. Then more firmly she asked, ‘Would you do something for me?’
‘Of course.’
‘Would you ask PC Jenkins what’s happening? Actually, he might tell you more readily than me. You’re not so closely involved. He might just tell you something that he wouldn’t want to tell me.’
Tony nodded. ‘I’ll try.’ He was about to turn away when he paused and said quietly, ‘Poor Pat’s taken my dad’s death badly, hasn’t she?’
Anna nodded. ‘I – I think she loved your father. I think part of her always had done from the time they were young.’
Tony’s mouth hardened as he said, ‘I wish me mam was half as upset. I don’t think she cared about him at all. Her only worry is whether she’s been left the farm.’
Anna gasped, shocked that Bertha could be quite so heartless. Even after all she knew about her, she hadn’t expected that. ‘Has he left a will?’
Tony nodded. ‘We’ve an appointment at the solicitors in Ludthorpe tomorrow. Wish me luck because if it’s all in her name, I don’t reckon I’ll be staying.’
‘Oh Tony, don’t say that.’
‘I mean it. For years, Anna, I’ve tried to understand her, to stand by her, even side with her against me dad sometimes, although I never liked doing that. But do you know, she’s misled me all these years.’ His gaze met Anna’s steadily. He hesitated, wondering whether now was the time to speak out. Anna looked puzzled, so he took a deep breath and plunged on. ‘She always said she believed that Maisie was my father’s child and that Maisie was my half-sister. Anna – I hope you won’t be angry – but my feelings for Maisie aren’t a brother’s. It made me feel – ’ he paused again searching for the right word – ‘dirty. Unnatural. Wicked.’
‘Oh, Tony.’ There was no anger in Anna’s tone, only sadness. Now she understood his strange, erratic behaviour. He had been suffering a turmoil of emotions caused, so unnecessarily, by his mother’s lies.
‘I promise you,’ she said softly, ‘on Maisie’s life that she is not your half-sister.’
He nodded. ‘Oh, I know that now.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘And if I’d been sensible about it, I’d have asked you before. And believed you. But when your own mother drills it into you from the age of ten or so that you were – you were – that you and my father . . .’ He faltered.
Anna smiled sadly. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I know.’
Tony pulled off the cap he was wearing, ran his fingers through his hair and then pulled the cap on again. ‘Of course, I don’t know how Maisie feels about me,’ he said. ‘It might all be hopeless anyway.’
‘She’s very fond of you.’
‘I know, but I have to remember that she’s not mixed with other fellers much. Only the lads at school.’
Anna grimaced. ‘That’s my fault.’
‘Oh, I didn’t mean—’ he began, but she held up her hand. ‘It’s all right, Tony,’ she said. ‘It’s the truth. And as for Maisie, just give her a little more time, eh?’
He smiled. ‘I seem to have been waiting for ever for her to grow up.’
They smiled understandingly at each other.
‘Well,’ he said briskly. ‘This won’t get the work done. I’d better go.’<
br />
‘Good luck for tomorrow,’ she called as he turned away.
Over his shoulder he grinned. ‘I might need it because I could be gone by tomorrow night.’
As he walked away, Anna murmured, ‘Me too.’
Eddie’s will contained a shock for Bertha, a pleasant surprise for Tony and a different kind of shock for Anna.
‘He’s left the farm to me,’ Tony told her happily as he held out an envelope to her. ‘And the solicitor’s sent you a letter.’
Anna eyed the long legal envelope suspiciously. ‘Me? Why me?’
‘Go on, open it. You’ll see.’ The young man could hardly contain his excitement, his obvious pleasure.
Anna rubbed her palms down the sides of her skirt, feeling suddenly nervous. Yet, by the look on Tony’s face, the letter didn’t contain bad news. Surely Tony wouldn’t be throwing them out of the cottage? Not after what he had said about his feelings for Maisie. And yet . . .
Tony could contain himself no longer, couldn’t wait for her to open the letter and read the news for herself. ‘He’s left you this cottage and a bit of land round it.’
Anna stared at him. ‘Me? Oh no, he can’t do that.’
‘Well, he has,’ Tony was grinning from ear to ear. ‘And it’s all legal and there’s not a thing anyone can do about it.’
‘Do you mind?’ she asked swiftly.
He laughed. ‘Course not. I’m delighted. It means you’ll stay here.’ He paused, realizing that the capture of the two men Anna had feared for years meant that she was now free to go wherever she chose. She might want to leave. ‘You will stay, won’t you?’
Anna smiled and reached out to take the envelope. ‘Of course, only—’ She stopped, afraid that what she had to say would hurt him. ‘I must let Maisie have more freedom. It’s time she spread her wings. You do see that, don’t you?’
Red Sky in the Morning Page 35