No Wings to Fly

by Jess Foley

  ‘What are you looking for?’ she said.

  ‘Nothing. Nothing. It’s all right.’ A few more moments glancing out at the scene down below and he stepped back to the bench and sat down again.

  ‘How have you been living?’ she said to him.

  ‘Oh, I’ve managed all right, I s’pose. Nothin’ spectac’lar, but all right, considerin’.’

  ‘Have you had any work?’

  ‘Nah. Nothin’ to speak of.’ He held up his left arm, and added with a bitter little laugh, ‘You need two ’ands even to ’old a broom.’

  His simple words were like the greatest pain in her heart. She would have done anything to make his anguish go away, but there was nothing she could do. She could not even offer him hope.

  ‘I’ve managed to earn a bit runnin’ some messages,’ he said. ‘Here in Corster for a firm of solicitors and for some people at the Gazette. At least my legs are fit, and I’m a quick runner.’

  ‘And where have you been sleeping?’ she said. It was obvious from his appearance that he had not spent the most comfortable days and nights. ‘Have you managed to stay in the dry?’

  ‘Yeh, I’ve been all right. Don’t worry about me. I found a little place out on the edge of the town. Just a little shack, a little lean-to, but it keeps the rain off.’

  As he finished speaking there came the sound of footsteps on the stairs, climbing, and the murmur of voices, and he quickly got to his feet and peered off through the door onto the landing.

  ‘What’s up?’ Lily said. ‘You’re so jumpy. What’s the matter?’

  He remained standing there for some seconds, gazing off, shoulders hunched. Then a middle-aged couple, a man and a woman, came into view. They wandered at a leisurely pace into the room, looking about them at the exhibits as they came. Tom moved back to the bench and sat down again.

  ‘I can’t stay round here,’ he said in a whisper. ‘I’m gunna ’ave to go.’

  Lily frowned. ‘Why?’

  He did not answer, and kept silent as the couple wandered about the room. They did not stay long. There seemed to be little to interest them for more than a few passing moments, and after a while they drifted back towards the open door.

  Tom watched their departure and listened while the sound of their footfalls faded along the landing, then he got up and looked from the window again. Lily said, ‘What are you looking for, Tom?’

  He turned to her. ‘I shouldn’t have come ’ere today.’

  ‘Not come here? Why?’ She was mystified.

  He shook his head. ‘No, I shouldn’t, but I ’ad to.’ He paused. ‘Did you bring it, Lil?’

  ‘The money? You mean the money?’

  ‘Yeh. Did you manage to get me any?’

  ‘Yes, I got you some.’

  A smile of relief briefly touched his face. ‘Ah, you’re a good girl, you are. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.’

  She had her hand in her bag, seeking her purse. ‘Miss Elsie let me have it,’ she said. ‘I didn’t have enough of my own.’ She took out her purse, opened it and extracted a little wad of notes. ‘She let me have thirty pounds for you.’

  ‘Thirty pounds.’ He came to stand closer to her, and shook his head in a little gesture of wonder. ‘Oh, Lily, she’s a good woman, ain’t she?’

  ‘She is indeed. Of course I shall have to pay her back.’

  ‘Yeh, of course you will. And I’ll pay you back too. Just as soon as I’ve earned a bit.’

  ‘Well – when you can.’ She held the money out to him and he took it and looked at it.

  ‘I never seen that much money in me life before,’ he said. He stuffed it into the pocket of his trousers.

  ‘I hope it’ll be enough,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, yeh.’ He patted the pocket. ‘That’ll be grand, and it’ll see me through, don’t worry.’ He stepped back and looked down through the window again. ‘Did you see anyone as we came in?’ he said, turning to flick a glance at her.

  ‘See anyone? Who? Who are you talking about?’

  ‘Coppers. Did you see any coppers about?’

  ‘What – what are you concerned about the police for?’

  ‘I’m not going back in there,’ he said.

  ‘To prison?’ She frowned. ‘Well, of course you’re not. Tom – what is this all about? Tell me. What have you done?’

  He gave a little groan and said, ‘Oh, Lil, don’t get on at me. I know I do stupid things at times, but . . .’

  As his voice trailed off she said sharply: ‘What have you done? Tell me.’

  He came back closer to the bench and, his voice low, said, ‘I didn’t steal it. Honest, I didn’t. I didn’t steal it.’

  ‘Steal what? What are you talking about?’

  ‘The purse. The gentleman’s purse. It was just there, on the seat.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘What are you telling me, Tom? Have you done something?’

  ‘I told you – I didn’t steal it. It was just there, after he’d gone.’

  ‘You took it? You took somebody’s purse?’

  When he did not answer, she slapped the seat of the bench beside her. ‘I think you’d better sit down and tell me what’s happened.’

  With an air of reluctance he sat down at her side.

  ‘Tell me,’ she said, feeling her heart beat at the thought of what he might be about to say.

  ‘It was two days back, ’ere in Corster,’ he said after a moment. He lifted his hand and jabbed with his thumb towards the window. ‘Down there in the square. I come in durin’ the afternoon, looking for work. Doing some runnin’ maybe – or anything – but there wasn’t anything being offered. Anyway, I’d been ’ere a while, walking round, and I came by and got meself a drink of water at the fountain and sat down. I was on one of the benches near where we met just now. It wasn’t that warm a day, and there weren’t many other people sittin’ around, but there was this old man there, a well turned-out old gentleman, he was. He had a couple of bags with him, and a leather case. At one point he sat there going through his purse, and when he got up to go ’e left his purse behind on the seat.’

  At this Lily gave a groan. ‘And you took it. Oh, Tom, don’t tell me you took it.’

  ‘Well – well, it was just there, on the seat. I didn’t see it right away, and when I did he’d gone off out of sight. I didn’t think, Lil. I just wasn’t thinkin’ straight, I s’pose.’ He gave a deep sigh. ‘I just wasn’t.’

  ‘So you took it, the gentleman’s purse.’

  He closed his eyes and gave an almost imperceptible nod. ‘Ah, I did.’

  ‘Oh, Tom . . .’

  He nodded again. ‘I did it without thinking twice. It was there, and I just looked round and then stepped across the gap and picked it up. It was just so easy. One second it was lyin’ there on the bench and the next it was in my ’and.’ He gave a groaning sigh. ‘Oh, Lil, I know, I know – I must’ve been barmy, and if I could’ve undone it I would, believe me. But it was too late; it was done.’

  ‘What d’you mean? Surely you could have put it back.’

  ‘I had it in my pocket. And just at that moment the old man comes back round the corner by the corn exchange. And he’s got a peeler with him. They come straight towards the bench, I tell you. For a second I just stood there like some rabbit fixed by a stoat, and then I took off. I couldn’t do anything else. I ’ad to get away.’

  ‘Go on,’ Lily said.

  ‘Well . . .’ He turned his head back to face her again. ‘I got away. Like I said, I’m fast on me feet, but the peeler, he was fast too, and he almost caught me – but I was faster still and I managed to give him the slip. He came close though – close to catching me – and he saw me all right. Close up, I mean. Oh, yeh, he saw me close up, right enough – and I knew he wouldn’t forget me.’

  ‘What did you do – with the man’s purse?’

  ‘I threw it away. As I was running. I didn’t take anything from it. I didn’t even look inside. I didn’t ’ave a chance. A
s I was running I slung it over a wall into somebody’s garden. It’s still there as far as I know. Though doubtless the police think I still got it.’ He shifted on the seat, his fingers clenching and unclenching. Then he got up again and moved to the window. Looking down through the glass he said, just loud enough for Lily to hear: ‘He saw me today. That constable. He saw me coming ’ere a while ago. The same one.’

  ‘He saw you? Are you sure?’

  ‘Oh, ah, I’m sure, right enough. I darn near ran into him. I was only a yard away. I got out of his way as sharp as I could, but ’e saw me all right. He made that clear enough.’ He turned to face her. ‘He’s after me, Lil.’

  ‘You think he’s followed you?’

  ‘Yeh, I reckon so. Though maybe not on his own.’ He moved close to her again. ‘I got to go, Lil. It’s not safe for me to stay ’ere.’ As he spoke he was stepping back, as if ready to run. She got to her feet, reaching out to him.

  ‘Oh, but Tom – you can’t go like this. How will I get in touch with you? You’re going to be leaving the country. I might never see you again.’

  ‘Oh, you’ll see me again,’ he said, ‘don’t you worry about that. I’ll be turning up, like the old bad penny.’ He moved from one foot to another. ‘Lil, I got to go. It’s not safe for me ’ere.’ He put his right arm around her, drawing her close. ‘I’ll write to you, depend on it. As soon as I get there, to Philadelphia, I’ll write and let you know where I am.’ His arm tightened even more. There was desperation in his touch. ‘Don’t think too badly of me, Lil, please.’

  ‘I could never do that, Tom.’

  He leant back a little and looked into her face. ‘You wait – you’ll hear good things of me, once I’m settled.’ He smiled. ‘And we’ll have that little ’ouse together, you just see if we don’t.’

  Then, with a wrench he was breaking away from her, adjusting his cap securely on his head and stepping back to glance down from the window once more. And Lily, watching his every move, saw him start, saw his body jerk upright, and heard the gasp of his breath.

  ‘Oh, by Christ, they’re ’ere!’ he cried. ‘They’re ’ere, the peelers!’

  He spun, giving out a little yelp, turning on the spot as if not knowing which way to go. Then he flung himself forward and dashed across the room to the doorway. In seconds he was through it and running out onto the landing. Lily heard his boots thudding on the wooden floor, the sound echoing in the silence of the place. As he disappeared from her view she turned back to the window and looked down, and saw two constables nearing the building. In seconds they had vanished from her sight as they entered through the doors below.

  Her own heart was beating wildly as she moved across the room past the unseeing eyes of the stone statues. Reaching the door she looked out. There was no sign of Tom, though she could hear the sound of his hurrying feet coming from one of the galleries on the far side of the landing. Then all at once he burst into view again, dashing towards her. In the same moment two young women appeared from behind him in the doorway and stopped, standing in surprise, watching his progress. He was oblivious to them as he frantically ran forward, his mouth gaping, his eyes starting in terror. As he came to Lily where she stood in the doorway to the gallery he gasped out, ‘There’s no other way down! Oh, Christ ’elp me!’

  She could see that his eyes were glistening with tears of panic. He ran past her into the room, spun, then returned at a run, and came dashing past her again, this time heading for the stairs. She could only stand there, hands up to her mouth, watching as he started down, his boots thundering on the treads. The two young women had come forward a little now, moving nervously from the opposite gallery and, curious and drawn by the drama, stood watching his descent. Lily, like the young women, watched him dash down, and then hurried to the head of the staircase to peer after him. She watched as he reached the next landing, turned, and disappeared from her view. And for a few seconds there was only the sound of his footsteps. Then, all at once he was in her sight, coming back along the landing and up the stairs again. Standing at the top, she watched as he came hurtling towards her.

  ‘They’re ’ere! They’re ’ere inside!’

  He gasped out the words as he came up. Briefly he came to a floundering halt, his good arm and his mutilated arm reaching out. ‘Lil! Oh, Lil!’ He was gasping for breath, little flecks of spittle spraying from his lips. ‘Lil, for God’s sake ’elp me! They’ll send me back! Lil, don’t let ’em. Oh, please, don’t let ’em.’

  Following his words there came the sound of other footfalls heavy on the stairs below, rapidly climbing. Tom turned and looked down, and then whirled, his eyes wide in terror and desperation. For a couple of seconds he hovered there, as if at his wits’ end, and then flung himself forward again. Dashing past Lily, he bolted back into the gallery. Turning in his wake, she started after him.

  She watched him, her horrified eyes taking in every desperate move of his body as he skidded past the display cases, the battered statues and the fragments of ancient pottery. She watched him as he ran, without any hesitation in his step, towards the window above the bench. She watched him as he leapt up onto the seat and, in a continuation of the one single move, threw himself headfirst at the pane.

  No sound at all came from Tom. There was only the shattering of the glass. One moment he was there, silent, leaping, and a split second later he was gone.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  For a few seconds after Tom had vanished Lily stood dumb-stricken and rooted to the floor, looking at the window, the sound of the breaking glass still ringing in her ears. Then, turning, she saw the two young women standing with open mouths, unable to believe what had taken place before their eyes. Vaguely she registered this, and then, forcing herself out of her momentary daze, spun and headed for the stairs.

  She met the two constables coming up, and they stood to one side to make way for her, somewhat startled by the sight of her as, clutching at her skirts and with all decorum gone, she rushed down.

  Outside she ran the few yards to where Tom lay on the cobbles. His body lay strangely doubled up, like some discarded, disjointed doll, and she knelt and bent over his lifeless form. His cap had come off and lay a foot away from his shoulder. From his smashed head his blood ran in thin rivulets between the stones. His eyes, half open, and which had seen so little joy, looked dully up at the sky.

  What happened next passed by in a fog, a kaleidoscope of people coming and going, sounds, men’s voices asking questions, kindly, sensitively, the feeling of hands touching solicitously at her shoulder. The two police constables who had come so soon to her side learnt from her that the young man was her brother. The ambulance was being sent for, they told her, and he would be taken to Corster General Hospital, though it was clear to all that he was beyond help. She would wait, she said; she would not leave him here alone. As she stood beside the body her knees buckled and she sank down, only prevented from falling by one of the constables who stepped forward and caught her. From within the museum someone fetched a chair, and she was urged to sit. Someone else had covered Tom’s body with an old piece of blanket, and she sat before it, her eyes dull, her lips compressed. When the ambulance wagon came at last, she turned her head away as he was lifted up and placed on board, then, turning back, she watched as the vehicle trundled away over the cobbles. When it had gone from sight one of the senior policeman asked her to accompany them to the constabulary office, where an official report must be made and a statement taken. There, in a bleak room, she sat facing an officer across a weathered desk. While she drank a mug of hot, sweet tea, a succession of questions were asked and her answers duly noted. Later, when she enquired as to what now was to happen to her brother, she was told that there would be a post-mortem examination, followed by an inquest, which she would be required to attend. She would receive notification, they said. She was also informed that all Tom’s possessions found on him would be given to her. Two hours later, when she was free to go, she stumbled out into the co
ol October night and started on her way back to Happerfell.

  Arriving at The Gables, she met Mrs Soameson in the hall, and at once it was apparent to the older woman that something was very wrong. After one or two questions, she took Lily into the drawing room and there, weeping, Lily told her what had happened. Mrs Soameson listened for the most part in silence, only interjecting the occasional expression of sympathy. ‘Perhaps,’ she said, when Lily had come to the end of her story, ‘you’d like to go back to Sherrell tomorrow – to see your friend, Miss Balfour. Stay there, and come back on Sunday.’

  So, the next morning Lily made the journey to Rowan-leigh, arriving just before noon. She was met by a surprised Miss Elsie, who was not expecting her for another week. Soon, in Miss Elsie’s study, Lily was pouring out her heart.

  She stayed amid the familiar comforts of Rowanleigh the rest of that day, and until the hour the day following when she started back for Happerfell. She carried in her purse a sum of money that Miss Elsie had pressed upon her for the expenses of the funeral. The thirty pounds that she had given to Tom, Lily had told her, was still being held by the authorities, but she should have it returned to her soon. Mr Shad drove her to the station. Arriving back at The Gables, she eschewed the supper that Mrs Lemmon offered and went up to her room. Next morning, after another almost sleepless night, she was back in the schoolroom again with Lavinia, taking up her teaching duties once more.

  That afternoon there came for her a letter from a clerk of the local court in Corster informing her that an inquest into Tom’s death was set for Wednesday, the eleventh of October, at eleven-thirty, and that she would be required to attend.

  Two days later, therefore, she went into the town, and there made her way to the old civic hall in one of the outer boroughs where the inquest was to be held. At the appointed hour she sat in a large, draughty room and listened as the clerk gave information to the coroner. There were few other people present and it was all over in a very short time. Within half-an-hour the coroner had declared the inquest adjourned, in order to allow the investigating police officers time to gather necessary evidence. Lily was free to go.