by Sam Michaels
8
Another week passed with still no sign of Charlotte. Georgina had just finished making the bed in Alfie’s room in preparation for Molly’s impending visit. She thought Molly was wasting her time by coming to Battersea and hoping to find Charlotte but, nonetheless, she’d be pleased to see her best friend.
She straightened her dress as she descended the stairs and walked into the front room where Lash was on all fours with Alfie riding on his back, pretending his father was a horse.
‘Giddy-up, Daddy,’ Alfie called, beaming with delight.
‘Alfie, go and choose three toys from your bedroom and put them in mine and Daddy’s room,’ Georgina told her son, knowing that he’d protest and want to continue playing.
‘In minute, Mummy.’
‘No, Alfie, now.’
‘Aw, please, Mummy… in minute.’
‘Alfie, do as you’re told.’
‘But… Mummy…’
‘No, buts, just do it.’
‘Can’t he do it later?’ Lash asked.
His question in front of their son grated on her. She expected his support but once again, felt he was undermining her discipline. ‘No, Lash, I want it done now. Molly will be arriving soon so I want him to stay out of his room whilst she’s in there. Anyway, I don’t need to explain myself to either of you. Alfie, get upstairs and pick some toys or go without.’
Alfie reluctantly climbed off his father’s back and stomped out of the room with a sulking expression on his little face.
‘You’ve got to stop doing that, Lash,’ Georgina snapped as she closed the door behind her child. ‘Every time I tell him to do something, you pipe up with a contradiction. It’s not on, I always end up looking like the horrible parent.’
‘You are a bit hard on him sometimes.’
‘No, I’m not – the boy needs to know the rules and show some respect.’
‘He’s just a kid, Georgina.’
‘Yes, but he’s got to learn he can’t backchat me and must do as he’s told. I’ve never heard you disrespect your mother and that’s because you daren’t. I want Alfie to be the same.’
‘Fair enough but I had more freedom than Alfie’s got. You won’t let him play outside or even in the backyard.’
Georgina drew in a deep breath. No, she’d never allow her son to play on the unmarked grave of her gran’s husband in the yard. And there were too many dangers on the streets. ‘We’re not living in a gypsy community, Lash. Things are different here to what you knew as a child.’
‘I realise that, Georgina,’ he answered harshly.
‘So stop making comparisons to your childhood and help me to bring up our son properly.’
‘Are you saying that I wasn’t brought up properly?’
‘No, Lash, of course I’m not. As you said yourself, just differently.’
‘And I suppose you think your Gorger ways are better?’
‘No… well… yes, I suppose I do. Your world is full of superstition. Your children are rarely literate and a woman has no voice until she becomes an elder.’
‘Our children are taught the skills they need to survive and provide for a family. And a woman, a normal woman, would want to bring up her own child and not palm him off to the next-door neighbour!’
‘Not this again! We’ve been over this a hundred times. I have a job to do and see nothing wrong with paying Colleen to take care of Alfie when I have to go to work.’
‘That’s just it, Georgina, you see nothing wrong with it, but I do. The boy should be with his mother or with family.’
‘Gawd, Lash, I’m sick of you going on about the same stuff again. I’ve had enough of this,’ she snapped, her patience wearing thin. She hastily spun and marched towards the door.
‘I’m taking Alfie with me, to be with my family.’
This statement from Lash stopped Georgina in her tracks and she slowly turned back to face her husband. ‘I beg your pardon?’ she asked.
‘Nelson told me my family are heading back to Ireland for a while. I’m going to join them and Alfie is coming with me. It’s about time he learned about his own culture. His blood is gypsy blood and I want my son to be proud of his roots.’
‘You’ll do no such thing! Fine, if you want to go, then piss off, but my son stays with me.’
Lash’s face softened and he stepped towards her, pulling her into his arms. Georgina stiffened, irate, her arms straight by her sides.
‘I’m not leaving for good, woman, just going away for a while. Or do you want me to sign up with the army and fight in this war?’
‘You don’t have to sign up yet. And even if you did, I’d get you an exemption certificate.’
‘It’s only a matter of time before they call me and, no, Georgina, I won’t have a piece of paper telling me I’m not fit and healthy. I’ll travel to Ireland with my family and it’ll be safer there for Alfie too.’
‘But the war isn’t happening in Battersea. It’s a bloody phoney war. Alfie won’t come to any harm here.’
‘We can’t be certain of that. There’s already been a British steamship trawler sunk. Hitler is getting closer and the first place he will target is London. It’s for the best, Georgina, trust me. I’ll take good care of our boy and teach him the ways of my family. We’ll be home soon, I promise.’
Georgina couldn’t bring herself to return Lash’s embrace and stood motionless as she digested his words. Eventually, she mumbled, ‘But I don’t want either of you to go.’
‘I know, sweetheart, and I don’t want to leave you or take Alfie from you. Come with us?’
‘No, no, I couldn’t. There’s too much at stake. If I’m not here, there wouldn’t be a business to come home to.’
‘Then let me go with your blessing, knowing that Alfie is in the best hands and away from conflict.’
‘Never. You can bugger off, but you leave Alfie here.’
‘I can’t recall a time when you haven’t got your own way with me, but on this occasion, I’m putting my foot down. You’re thinking with your heart and not your head. Alfie will have the time of his life and you know he will be loved and cared for by my family. I’ll get him to write to you every day.’
‘He can’t write; he’s too young.’
‘He can tell me what to write. Just think of it like a long holiday.’
Lash was right: she always got her own way in the end but she sensed something was different this time. But no matter what, she wasn’t going to back down. As much as she knew Lash would die for their son, she didn’t believe that anyone could protect Alfie the way she could. ‘No, Lash. I won’t let him go with you and I’ll fight you if I have to.’
‘Then so be it. The boy is coming with me and you won’t stop me. I am his father and have every right to say what happens to him. Please reconsider, Georgina. I’d rather take him with your approval.’
‘Don’t push me to do something I’ll regret,’ she ground out through gritted teeth, determined that Alfie would stay put, no matter what.
Lash leaned towards her, his eyes dark with anger. ‘Don’t dare threaten me, woman,’ he seethed. ‘I’ve let you get away with too much over the years, but you remember that I am your husband and if I have to, I’ll put you in your place.’
‘Huh, don’t make me laugh! You’re just a man. You can try, like many before you have, but none have succeeded. What makes you think you’re any different?’
Georgina could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She’d frequently rowed with Lash in the past but he’d never looked at her with such contempt before and it unnerved her. He roughly pushed her to one side and walked out. She heard him climbing the stairs and followed to find him in their bedroom stuffing clothes into a bag.
‘You can’t do this,’ she said.
‘I gave you the opportunity to be reasonable but as usual, you’re too fucking stubborn to back down.’
‘I’m his mother – he needs me.’
‘Then stay at home and look after him.
You’re never here, Georgina. He spends more time with Colleen than you. How will the child ever learn the value of family? We’re going tonight, sooner than I’d planned. You’d better go and say goodbye to him.’
Georgina closed the door and leaned her body against it, blocking Lash’s way. ‘I told you, you can go but Alfie stays here.’
Lash threw his bag over his shoulder and paced towards her, his mouth set in a grim and resolute line. ‘I’m sorry that you will be left with bitterness. I hope your heart is softened by absence and you’ll be pleased of my return. But for now, get out of my way.’
When she refused to move, Lash grabbed her shoulder and thrust her to one side. She was no match for his strength but managed to stay on her feet. As he pulled the door open, she made a grab for him and in the grapple, felt her nails scratch his cheek.
He turned and glowered at her but she didn’t cower or flinch. ‘Go on. Do it. Hit me. Show me what a man you are.’
Lash pulled his lips back and growled at her.
‘Do it then,’ she goaded, ‘blacken my eyes and knock my teeth out.’
Just then, they heard Alfie whimper.
Lash closed his eyes and sucked in a big breath before turning to see the child. ‘It’s all right, Son, me and your mum are just play-fighting.’ He picked the child up and, calm now, told her, ‘Brian can run things at my work whilst I’m away. Alfie, say goodbye to your mummy. Me and you are going on a trip.’
‘Lash… no…’
‘I love you, Georgina. Take care,’ he said and headed down the stairs. Georgina rushed after him but realised it would be foolhardy to try and stop him whilst he was carrying Alfie.
With a final glance over his shoulder, Lash opened the front door and walked out into the early evening sunset. She heard her son calling ‘Mummy,’ and Lash soothing the child. Then they were gone.
Georgina had never felt so defeated and alone. How could Lash have done this to her? And did he intend on ever coming home? He hadn’t taken any of Alfie’s clothes or toys, not even his favourite teddy bear. Lash’s last words had sounded so final. He might think he had the closing word but she wasn’t going to allow him to get away with this. She’d get her son back. Fighting the Hearns for her child would be the biggest battle of her life, but whatever it took, Alfie was coming home.
In disbelief, Georgina closed the front door only to hear a knock moments later. She hurried back, hoping Lash had forgotten to take his key but her heart sank when she saw Molly standing on the chalked step.
‘Hello, Georgina. I’ve just seen Lash up the street. He looked in a bit of a hurry and tried to flag down the taxi I came in. He missed it but was off up the street like a shot. Where’s he taking Alfie?’
‘Come in. I’ll put the kettle on and tell you all about it.’
Ten minutes later, sat at the kitchen table, Georgina sipped on her hot tea and waited for Molly’s reaction. When her friend said nothing, she asked, ‘Don’t you think Lash is out of order?’
‘To be honest, Georgina, I don’t see that he’s done anything wrong.’
‘Are you joking? He’s taken my son against my wishes.’
‘But Alfie is Lash’s son too. It’s only natural that he’d want Alfie to spend time with his family and I have to say, I agree with him – whilst we’re at war, Alfie is better out of London. In fact, I was going to suggest that you send him to the farm to stay with me. I’ve left Edward at home with Mum for that exact reason.’
‘Sorry, Molly, but I think that’s a load of rubbish. There’s no sign of any Germans attacking Battersea. It’s utter nonsense!’
‘Even so, it’s better to be safe than sorry. Sounds to me like it was you who was out of order, not Lash. I’m not being funny, but you know what you can be like at times. On this occasion, you didn’t need to be so strong-minded. Alfie will be perfectly well cared for with Lash and his family. You should have just let them go without creating such a bloody scene.’
Georgina looked down at her hands in her lap and saw that she was twisting her mother’s wedding ring that she wore on her little finger, something she often did when deep in thought or nervous. ‘I see. Well, that’s told me. I dunno, maybe I was wrong. I suppose I’m just so used to having to fight my corner, it’s almost become a habit.’
‘Yes, and one you need to break. That man deserves an apology at the very least. Christ, he should have a medal for putting up with you. There’s not many men who would stand having a wife like you.’
‘All right, thanks, Molly, you’ve made your point. Perhaps I was a bit hasty in saying no. You’re the only person who has the guts to tell me when I’m wrong.’
‘Someone’s got to. Your gran was good at it too. As much as I loved her, she used to terrify me.’
‘Yeah, me and all.’ Georgina smiled, the memories of Dulcie always fond. ‘Anyway, this isn’t a social visit, so tomorrow morning we’ll get straight on the job of looking for that wayward sister of yours. Victor will be here first thing.’
‘Great, thanks. I know you’ve done everything possible but I just feel I have to try.’
‘I know. Don’t worry. If anything untoward had happened to her, I would have heard. She’s fine, somewhere causing mischief, no doubt.’
‘I do hope so, Georgina, I really do. I don’t think my mum could handle losing another one of us.’
Georgina took another sip of her tea, thinking about poor Fanny, though at least the woman couldn’t blame her for her daughter’s disappearance this time. Charlotte had run off of her own free will, unlike Ethel, kidnapped and left to die.
Georgina’s thoughts were broken by a sudden hammering on the front door, which made Molly physically jump. It was clear she was nervous being back in Battersea.
‘Who on earth could that be?’ she asked.
Georgina shrugged her shoulders and scraped her chair back as someone hammered again.
‘It must be urgent,’ Molly said, sounding worried.
‘Wait here,’ Georgina told her and pulled the kitchen door closed behind her.
She grabbed her clutch bag and unfastened it, glancing quickly inside at her pistol, before answering the front door.
A young man who’d often run messages for Georgina was hopping from foot to foot, visibly shaking. ‘Come quick, there’s been an accident.’
‘Who? Who’s been hurt?’ Georgina asked.
‘Please, missus, you’ve got to hurry up.’
‘Tell me who has been hurt?’ Georgina asked again, her mouth dry.
‘It’s your old man, missus.’
‘Lash? What… what happened? My boy? What about my son?’
‘I dunno. Quick, come on.’
Georgina called over her shoulder to Molly who now stood in the passageway. ‘Lash has been in an accident.’
As both women ran behind the young man, Georgina prayed she’d find her husband and son alive. Her heart was pounding and she felt her legs wouldn’t move fast enough. As they rounded a corner, she saw a crowd of people gathered and instantly knew something terrible had happened.
‘Move, move out the way,’ the young man shouted.
The crowd stepped aside to reveal Lash lying unmoving on the pavement.
Georgina gasped and fell to her knees beside him. ‘Lash… Lash…’ she said and gently shook him.
His blank eyes seemed to be staring into nothingness and his chest wasn’t rising and falling with breaths.
‘Lash… get up, darling… please, Lash… come on…’
She felt Molly’s arm across her shoulder and heard her whisper, ‘He’s gone.’
Georgina already knew the truth but hearing the words felt like a blow to her stomach and bile rose in her throat. ‘My son… Alfie…’ she screamed and jumped to her feet, searching the small crowd for her son’s face.
An elderly woman with a scarf over her rollers spoke softly. ‘It’s all right, Miss Garrett. Mrs Carter at number seven has taken him indoors. He’s not hurt or nuffink.’
‘Please, Molly, go and see Alfie. Make sure he’s not been hurt.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she answered, then saying to the man who’d fetched them, ‘Stay with her until I’m back.’
Georgina was just feet away from her husband, who lay dead on the ground. His unending, empty stare seemed to be looking straight at her. She tried to scramble back to her feet but fell again, grazing her knee.
‘Please, missus, sit tight,’ the man said. ‘Someone get me a chair, and a stiff drink,’ he called.
‘Lash… I’m so sorry…’ Georgina muttered, now trying to crawl across the paving slabs to be nearer her husband.
‘No, missus, don’t.’
The man tugged Georgina back but she shrugged him off. She looked into Lash’s lifeless eyes, her own brimming with tears and now she was close enough to touch him. She reached out and stroked the stubble on his cheek and the regrettable scratch she’d left a while earlier. Then she leaned over him and cupped his face in her shaking hands. ‘I love you, Lash,’ she said as the tears began to fall and she tenderly placed her lips on his.
Someone, she didn’t know who, grabbed her arms and she felt herself being pulled away. ‘Get off me,’ she said angrily, and managed to push herself to her feet.
Black mascara now streaked down her face. Her stockings had laddered and her arms were flailing. ‘Who did this?’ she screamed, scanning the gathered people for an answer.
No-one spoke.
‘Who killed my husband?’ she repeated loudly, spittle spraying from her mouth. ‘I want to know who is responsible for this. Do you hear me? Who the fuck killed my husband?’ She was screeching now and the strain left her throat feeling raw.
A woman stepped forward from the crowd. ‘I saw it. I saw it all,’ she said, looking at the others as if she was proud of herself.