by Anne Bennett
‘Okay,’ Josie said with a resigned sigh. ‘Lecture over. If you cannot feel in your heart to see any of this from Hannah’s point of view, I feel sorry for you, but I can do little about it.’
Funnily enough, Josie’s words made Angela feel a real heel – a novel experience for her and one she was certainly not going to admit to. No one had ever spoken to her as Josie had, or made her feel she was responsible for her own actions. But she didn’t resent Josie going for her because, Angela thought, it showed at least that she cared about her and she wasn’t sure any more if anyone else did.
Once, she would have said her father would love her and care for her till Hell froze over and no matter how she behaved. But since she’d made contact with her mother his attitude to her had changed.
He’d gone mad when he found out she’d visited her mother after the priest’s visit. When she’d recovered from her faint, he had gone on and on about it, accusing her of going looking for her mother and seeming not to hear when she said they’d met her while shopping. They’d gone home with her and to Arthur that was unforgivable. She couldn’t begin to reason with him these days.
‘Would you like to stay to tea?’ Josie asked and Angela wanted to very much. She certainly didn’t want to go back home to her father’s stiff disapproval and his list of endless questions or the silent treatment he’d indulged in lately, but it wouldn’t do to be too enthusiastic. She shrugged. ‘If you like,’ she said nonchalantly. ‘I’ll have to phone Daddy first.’
But the phone rang unanswered. ‘Must have gone out,’ Angela said. ‘He was pottering about in the garden when I slipped out earlier.’
‘So he doesn’t know you’re here?’
‘No, I tell you, he’s changed,’ Angela said. ‘Sometimes I think he’s going off his rocker. Hearing all this about Mommy seems to have sent him over the edge. He might have even physically stopped me from coming to see you, and at the very least, I would have been treated to one of his famous lectures that linger on for days.’
‘So are you stopping for tea or not?’
‘Might as well,’ Angela said ungraciously. ‘Nothing much to go home for.’
The following night, just as Hannah was thinking of making a last drink for her and Vic before bed, the phone rang. Vic had been out on house calls the last two nights and he groaned. ‘My idea of paradise is a week of undisturbed sleep,’ he said, as he made his way to the phone. ‘Don’t you think that’s a sad fantasy to have?’
But, this time, it wasn’t one of Vic’s patients, but a concerned Josie on the other end of the line. She told Vic about Angela’s visit the previous day and briefly what had transpired between them. ‘Phil ran her home later in the evening,’ she said. ‘The house was in darkness. Angela said not to worry, that her father was often in late. The point is though, he didn’t come home, not all night, nor today either.’
‘Has there been no phone call, no explanation?’
‘No.’
‘That’s funny. He’d know Angela would be worried.’
Hannah had moved across to Vic when she heard Vic mention Josie’s name and he handed the receiver to her. ‘It’s Josie,’ he said. ‘Arthur’s not been home last night, nor all day today with no word.’
‘Where are you now, Josie?’ Hannah asked.
‘With Angela. I could hardly leave her rattling around in an empty house by herself,’ Josie said. ‘I’ve told her, I can stay the night with her if she wants me to, but I’ll have to go early in the morning before Phil leaves for work. Hannah, can you come?’
‘She hardly wants me,’ Hannah said. ‘I bet she’s not asked for me?’
‘No,’ Josie admitted. ‘She wouldn’t, would she? But she’s just seventeen and she’s frightened and worried and doesn’t know how much she needs you.’
‘What if Arthur comes back and finds me there?’
‘What if he did? What could he do to you now?’
Hannah, who knew just what Arthur was capable of, said nothing further. She knew she had to go to her daughter, regardless of this risk to herself and of her daughter’s reaction when she saw her. ‘I’ll be there as soon as possible.’
By the time Hannah returned from next door with a sleepy Amy in her wake to listen out for the children, Vic had been busy. He’d made a list of all the hospitals in the area and was working his way through them. ‘You don’t think he’s had an accident?’ Hannah asked fearfully.
‘No, I don’t,’ Vic said firmly. ‘I just feel that it’s as well to make sure.’
But no, Arthur Bradley wasn’t in any of the hospitals and Hannah didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad one.
‘Maybe,’ said Hannah, ‘the Banks might know something.’
‘Is it likely?’
‘Well, as he disappeared on a Saturday night, it could be that the company had a function somewhere.’
‘Wouldn’t he have told Angela?’
‘According to Josie, Angela didn’t tell him she was going out. Maybe he intended to tell her.’
But Elizabeth Banks knew nothing. She was cool with Hannah, until she told her the reason for the call and then she was as concerned as Hannah was fast becoming. No, there was no function. They hadn’t seen Arthur socially for some weeks now.
‘Has he a special colleague, a friend he goes out with?’ Hannah asked.
‘No, no one really,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Not in the company certainly. He is quite a loner, Arthur.’
Hannah knew that quite well, but it was worth a shot in the dark. ‘Well, thank you anyway, Elizabeth.’
‘There’s one other place I haven’t tried,’ Vic said as they set off in the car. ‘And that’s the police station.’
‘Would they tell you if he was in there?’
‘I don’t know,’ Vic said. ‘But we can try.’
Steelhouse Lane Police Station was a squat, grey, grim-looking building and Hannah shivered as she walked up the steps. I’d hate to be incarcerated in one of these cells, she thought. But then, to be locked up anywhere would be desperate. I’d go daft, I would, and in a way she hoped Arthur wasn’t there either.
But he was. Nobody wanted to tell them, until Hannah pleaded with them. ‘I’m his ex-wife,’ she said. ‘And between us we have a daughter of seventeen who lives with her father and she is frantic as she’s had no news of him.’
‘He had the opportunity to tell her,’ the policeman said. ‘Every prisoner has that right.’
‘Then he is here?’
‘Yes, he’s here. We asked if there was anyone he wanted to phone, or if there was no phone, we’d have called around, but he said nothing. Wouldn’t answer any questions or anything. Then tonight he said he wanted to see his solicitor. He’s on his way now.’
‘Can I ask what he’s been charged with?’
‘You can ask,’ the policeman said. ‘But I’m not at liberty to say. You can see the prisoner if you wish and he may tell you.’
‘I don’t think either of us would be welcome,’ Hannah said. ‘What happens now?’
‘He’ll be in court in the morning,’ the policeman said. ‘Because of the nature of the crimes he is accused of, he will probably stay in custody until the trial.’
Hannah’s head was reeling, but the one she was sorry for was her daughter. ‘How can I tell her this, Vic?’ she said as they drove towards Erdington. ‘Do you think this is connected to the previous business, you know, from last summer?’
‘I don’t know, pet,’ Vic said, though privately he thought it could be little else. ‘But surely it’s better she hears it from you than read about it in the paper?’
‘Surely to God the papers won’t be interested?’ Hannah cried and then with her head in her hands she gave a mournful moan, ‘Oh Vic, Angela will hate me afresh for this.’
‘Darling, maybe this will build bridges between you.’
‘And maybe pigs can fly.’
‘Would you like me to tell her?’ Vic asked.
‘Oh Vic, would
you?’
‘I’ll try if you want me to.’
Hannah was glad Vic had offered to speak to Angela because she was apprehensive of even meeting her daughter. The last communication had been the abusive telephone call she’d had. Since then, there had been silence but Hannah had no reason to think Angela felt one jot better about her than when she screamed down the phone that she’d ruined her whole life.
Josie opened the door to them, much to Hannah’s relief, and she said quietly, ‘I’ve told her you were coming over. She was a bit upset, but she’s all right.’
‘Not for long she won’t be,’ Hannah said, ‘not when she hears our news,’ and then seeing Josie’s surprised expression, she explained, ‘We know where Arthur is.’
‘Where?’
‘Prison,’ Hannah said briefly and went on to tell Josie as much as she’d been told.
‘Oh God!’ Josie said. ‘On what charge?’
‘They wouldn’t say, but I think we can make a good guess.’
‘Poor, poor Angela,’ Josie said and she led the way down the passage to the breakfast room.
A white-faced Angela sat before the fire hugging her hands between her knees. She looked a picture of misery and when she lifted up her beautiful green eyes, shadowed as they were by worry, Hannah was smote with pity for her.
Angela saw the look, and though she didn’t fully understand it, she burst out, ‘I don’t know why you’ve come. Pretending to care all of a sudden.’
‘I do care about you, Angela. I always have and I can see how worried you are.’
Angela’s resistance crumbled before her mother’s obvious concern and she suddenly felt very young, too young to deal with her father’s disappearance by herself. ‘He’s never done this before when I’ve been home,’ she said uncertainly. ‘I keep waiting for the phone to ring, or to hear his key in the door. I mean, what if he’s had an accident?’
‘He hasn’t, Angela,’ Vic said. ‘We checked the hospitals before we left.’ He glanced at Hannah, waiting for the signal to go on, and she gave a nod. There was no way she could shield her daughter from this and maybe it would be easier for Angela if Vic told her. ‘We know where your father is,’ he said. ‘He’s in Steelhouse Lane Police Station.’
‘The police station? Why?’ Angela demanded. ‘Has there been an accident?’
‘No, Angela. Your father has been arrested.’
‘Arrested!’ Angela cried, leaping to her feet. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘We know little about it,’ Vic said truthfully. ‘He goes before the court tomorrow.’
‘And then he’ll come home, right?’ Angela said. ‘I mean, it’s got to be some silly mistake.’
Vic knew he couldn’t let Angela harbour the idea that this was some minor motoring offence, such as being given a ticket for speeding. ‘No, Angela,’ he said. ‘It’s not a mistake and it’s highly unlikely that your father will be home tomorrow. The policeman we spoke to said they’d probably keep him in jail until the trial.’
‘Trial? What is this? Daddy’s never done any harm!’
‘We won’t know what he’s done till tomorrow,’ Vic said. ‘We honestly don’t know any more than we’re telling you.’
Angela glanced over at Hannah and she could tell by the flush staining her cheeks and the way she was biting on her bottom lip in agitation that she was uncomfortable. She wondered if it were anything to do with what Josie had told her the previous day and even her mother had hinted at about her father not liking sex. But surely no one could arrest you for that. ‘Is this anything to do with sex?’ she said, turning to her mother.
Hannah swallowed deeply. God, this was awful. She was about to inflict terrific pain on the daughter she loved. ‘He … your father didn’t like normal sex,’ she said.
‘And could that be something to do with why he was arrested?
‘Angela, we don’t know.’
‘But could it?’
Hannah glanced at Vic and his eyes met hers, full of sympathy. Perhaps, she thought, it might be better to prepare Angela for the revelations that would come out in the morning. She was certain that finding some form of outlet for his perverted sexual appetite was the reason he was behind bars. She gave a sigh and said, ‘Yes, Angela, it could, but let’s just wait and see.’
But Angela remembered the kinky sex some of Hillary’s set had engaged in that even in the throes of drink and drugs, she’d refused to indulge in and even hearing about what they did had made her feel sick. To think her father took part in things like that – it was disgusting. To think of a parent having any sort of a sex life was embarrassment enough, but this … She felt nausea rise in her throat and she fled for the bathroom.
Hannah followed her and held her hair back as she vomited into the lavatory bowl and later wiped her face as she sat recovering on the toilet seat. ‘You’re enjoying this?’ she accused.
‘I assure you I’m not.’
The tears began then. ‘Why is he like this, Mommy? Why?’
Hannah sighed. ‘We’ll probably never know,’ she said.
‘I’m so lonely,’ Angela said plaintively. ‘I have no one now.’
‘You have me.’
‘You don’t want me. You never have.’
‘That’s not true. It’s another lie your father has fed you.’
‘Does Matthew still come to see you?’
‘Yes, he does,’ Hannah said. ‘He’s my son and you’re my daughter just as much as little Frances and Adam are. Matthew will also soon be alone in the world. His mother is dying. She has only months to live.’
That was a shock to Angela, for though she’d known Matthew’s mother was ill, she hadn’t known it was so serious. Suddenly, though, she envied her, because she felt she couldn’t stand the shame and humiliation which would be heaped on her head because of her father. She just couldn’t bear it! She couldn’t!
‘Oh, Mommy,’ she cried, using the term she hadn’t used for years. ‘Oh Mommy, I wish I was dead.’
Hannah cradled her weeping daughter and tried not to be glad at the circumstance that had caused her daughter to turn to her. She crooned to her, rocking her as she hadn’t done since she’d been a little child and then not often. She told Angela she had much to live for, her life was before her and many people loved her. Listening to her, Angela realised how she’d missed her mother over the years. ‘Can you stay tonight?’ she asked.
‘Darling, I can’t,’ Hannah said. ‘If Vic should be called out, there is no one to see to the children. Amy is listening out now, but we can’t expect her to do it all night. We said we wouldn’t be long.’
‘Then … then can I come home with you?’ Angela said. ‘I don’t want to be alone tonight.’
It was what Hannah had hoped for and thought would never happen. ‘Of course you can, darling,’ she said. ‘Let’s go and put a few things in a suitcase,’ and as she followed her daughter out of the bathroom, her heart soared in joy.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Angela, with red-rimmed, black-smudged eyes standing out in her head, thought she’d die with shame as she listened to what her father was accused of. Horrible bestial activities, they said, he was engaged in, things that defied normal comprehension and other crimes that involved children.
That was the worst of all and she’d wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. She felt the bile rise in her throat and swayed on her feet and was glad of Hannah one side of her and Josie the other, for without them she was sure she would have fallen.
Her father wasn’t the only one in the dock, but he was the only one she saw, except that she barely recognised the grey-faced, stooped man who seemed to have aged twenty years. But she felt no pity for him, only revulsion, and she wondered if he knew she was there listening to the dreadful things they said he did, or if he’d given her any sort of thought at all.
Hannah hadn’t wanted Angela to come to court that morning, but Vic said she had a right to be there if she wanted to go. ‘Y
ou can’t protect her from this,’ Vic had said. ‘Even if she’d listen to you, which I doubt. Just be there by her side supporting her.’
And how glad Hannah was when the list of crimes was read out. Never in her wildest dreams had she believed people did such things and certainly not people she knew. She wondered how Angela was bearing it at all. She wished she could put her arms around her, but she was afraid. She knew that although Angela had cried in her arms the night before, that had been in the nature of a drowning man clinging to a raft, not a true indication of her feelings.
Hannah felt she had thrown away the right to be a mother to Angela, to give her advice and certainly the right to give her a hug and tell her things would be all right. That would be a lie anyway, for would it ever be all right again? But then she saw Angela suddenly sway on her feet and risking rejection, Hannah grasped one of Angela’s hands tight and though Angela made no sign, she was glad of the small measure of comfort it gave her.
Arthur’s case was adjourned for medical and psychiatric reports and his solicitor, Mr Morriatty, was glad, for he was very worried about Arthur’s mental state. Arthur had told him that when he’d been arrested on Saturday evening, he’d been in a state of shock, a state that rendered him almost incapable of speech and certainly of coherent thought and that was why he hadn’t asked the police to ring him. It had been when the cell door slammed shut that he thought he’d go mad. But he’d resisted the desire he had to beat on it and scream and cry and beg to be let out. Instead, he’d lain down on the bed and let a numbness – the aftermath of shock – steal all over him. It lasted all of Sunday. He spoke when he was spoken to, ate what he was given, but nothing touched him. He seemed outside of this current situation as if it was happening to someone else.
By eleven o’clock on Sunday, he knew it wasn’t and he hammered on the door. This was ignored for some time, except by fellow prisoners, some of whom hammered with him, while others protested at the noise.
Eventually, a policeman came to see the cause of the disturbance. ‘I want to see my solicitor,’ Arthur demanded.