by David Field
‘No sign of Marjory Collins. Hopefully when she sees the police wagon she’ll stay away. Looks like we got here in time.’
He was almost fatally wrong.
Chapter Twenty-six
Esther was experiencing a recurring nightmare from five years previously, when her adoptive home with the Rosens in their Lamb Street bespoke tailoring emporium had been the target of a vicious anti-Semitic attack and almost reduced to a shell by the fire that had engulfed it. In her troubled sleep, she twisted and turned, her head moving from one side of the pillow to another as she sought to avoid the smoke, then ran, clad only in her nightdress, down the staircase from the second floor, just before the staircase crashed behind her in a shower of glittering embers and she was pulled out into the street by Isaac, who had been waiting near the front door, after bellowing to her that she had to get out immediately or lose her life.
She came awake to a violent coughing fit and quickly became aware that the smoke was real, rather than a nightmare. She tried to get downstairs, but the staircase was already consumed by flames. In a flash of memory Esther recalled the old service hoist that she had played on as a child, when she accompanied her parents to the Rosen building to deliver the cloth that they imported. It was basically a rope pulley that could be operated from either the upper or lower floor, or — as a very young Esther had demonstrated more than once, to her parents’ consternation — by a person sitting on the platform and pulling on the rope to its side.
She slid out of bed and hurried to the doorway, then stopped in her tracks, turned back and grabbed the wedding dress from the hook.
Esther climbed onto the platform, which luckily had last been used some years ago to transport small items of furniture up to Isaac and Ruth’s old bedroom — the one from which Esther was now fleeing for her life. Holding the wedding dress tightly to her, she reached out with one hand and began pulling upward on the rope as the platform creaked and groaned into life following several years of disuse. Slowly it cranked down foot by foot, until the ground floor came into sight and Esther leaped down from the platform, holding her wedding dress before her like a battle banner.
While Esther had been making her escape, Jack and Percy had been both busy and successful. They had been sitting in the coach, watching the front door intently, when it had opened to reveal the scurrying figure of Marjory Collins as she alighted onto the pavement outside, into the arms of two uniformed police constables. It was arguable which of them was the most surprised.
‘Hold on to that woman!’ Percy yelled as he jumped from the coach and, from his jacket pocket, extracted the restraints that he placed on her wrists before forcing her to the ground. Jack jumped out after him and stared, horror-stricken, at the sight through the still open door.
‘Get the Fire Brigade!’ he yelled to the constables who had stood back to allow Percy room to move and one of them raced off down the road. A few minutes later they heard the familiar clanging of a bell as a horse drawn fire wagon raced up Commercial Street and almost skidded into Lamb Street. Three men in full fire fighting uniform jumped down from it and while two of them attached a hose of some sort to the huge water container, the third man raced inside armed with an axe and headed for the burning staircase.
He was stopped dead in his tracks as he became aware, to his right, of a pale white figure stumbling towards him through the smoke. He took it at first to be a ghost, until it occurred to him that ghosts don’t cough and he realised that he was staring at a woman in her nightdress weaving her way through clouds of smoke, bearing a long white garment aloft, as if trying to preserve it from any smoke or flame.
From Esther’s perspective, it looked as if a knight in shining armour had come to rescue her, until she realised that the battle helm that was glinting in the reflection from the flames that had engulfed the staircase was in fact the silver helmet of a fireman. She called out to him just as Jack staggered through the door with his face covered by his handkerchief as a protection against the swirling smoke, heard Esther’s voice and swerved to his right to collect her in his arms. He guided her to the pavement and was about to lead her to the coach when she looked down towards the ground where Percy had a woman pinioned.
‘That’s Margaret Templeton!’ she cried out.
‘I’ll get you next time!’ Margaret yelled up at her, before Percy shook her into silence.
‘One of several aliases,’ he advised Esther with a grin. ‘As “Marjory Collins” she murdered Helen — and a few other people, in her time.’
‘Are you alright?’ Jack demanded as he turned Esther towards him in order to look into her eyes.
‘I think so,’ Esther replied in a feeble voice. ‘I saved my wedding dress — look.’
As she held the dress out towards him, the delayed shock took over and she crumpled to the ground.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Esther woke the next morning to find herself in a comfortable warm bed, with Lucy smilingly placing tea things on a side table, Jack sitting on the side of her bed holding her hand and looking longingly into her eyes and Percy standing by the back wall looking smug.
‘Thank God you’re still with us,’ Jack choked as he leaned forward and kissed her gently on the forehead.
‘I wasn’t thinking of going anywhere,’ Esther joked back weakly. ‘I vaguely remember calling for my wedding dress.’
‘Hanging up there, in front of the window, to get the smell of smoke out of it,’ Lucy reassured her with a nod, adding, ‘It’s absolutely beautiful and far too good to miss your happy day.’
Esther smiled with satisfaction as she turned her head to look up at the precious garment swinging gently in the slightly chill breeze from the open window.
‘Thank you, Lucy. Is this your house?’
‘It is. It’s also your home until you’re strong enough to move into your new accommodation in Clerkenwell. And before that you’ll need to build up your strength to go round the stores with Jack, buying furniture.’
As the recent memories came flooding back, Esther looked across at Percy.
‘You got Margaret Templeton, didn’t you? Was that last night?’
‘It was indeed.’ Percy smiled down at her. ‘Also known as Marjory Mathewson and Marjory Collins and it was she who murdered Helen. She’d obviously come after you and had poured paraffin all over the bottom stairs before throwing a match into it. You were lucky to escape.’
‘Can either you or Percy explain why Margaret Templeton wanted to murder me as well as Helen? Surely, with the Alliance finished, she had no further issue with me?’
Percy coughed slightly with embarrassment before explaining.
‘That was all my fault, I’m afraid, but you nearly died for the same reason as Helen. It had nothing to do with the Alliance, as it turns out. Marjory Collins, to give her the name under which she’s been charged with murder and attempted murder, would seem to be a bit ... well, a bit “loony”, if you’ll pardon that uncaring description. She’s no great beauty, as you will have concluded for yourself and she’s sensitive to the point of mania about holding on to any man who shows her any interest. Some years ago now, when her husband was unfaithful to her, she strangled the life out of him, but managed to plead self-defence and play the sympathy card with a jury. Then a couple of years ago she fell in with George Manners, who couldn’t resist plying her with charm in order to seduce her. Then he found that she wouldn’t let go and when he became obsessed with Helen it was all too much for poor old Marjory.’
‘Hardly “poor old Marjory”,’ Jack protested. ‘She’s a deranged killer and if we hadn’t got to her when we did, Esther wouldn’t be here today.’
‘We?’ Percy challenged him, and Esther felt obliged to step in with something diversionary.
‘So the union thing was just a coincidence, was it?’
Percy shook his head.
‘Not for George Manners, it wasn’t. He was hoping to improve his standing in the wider union world by nipping the
Alliance in the bud and it was Marjory who introduced him to her very unpleasant brother Wally Mathewson, an adept burglar with a sick obsession with ladies’ undergarments. The perfect man to deliver the typewritten warnings that Marjory produced while working in the Hemmingsworth office, which she instructed her revolting brother to deliver, with a disgusting sideline of his own for added emphasis in the case of those members who were important to the Alliance.’
‘Have you arrested Manners yet?’ Esher enquired.
Percy nodded with a smile.
‘In the early hours of this morning. I’m planning to tip him upside down later, but I suspect that Helen was unwise enough to share far too much information with him regarding how the Alliance was expanding.’
‘You should let Esther rest now,’ Lucy suggested as she handed her the cup of tea she’d just poured. ‘And aren’t you two supposed to be on duty?’
‘I’ll be going down to Wapping to interview Mr Manners,’ Percy advised them, ‘then I think I’ve earned the rest of the day off. But I’ll definitely be behind my desk at the Yard tomorrow, if only to avoid going to Barking.’
‘And I’ll think of some constabulary reason why I have to begin painting our new front room, before coming down here to keep you company while Lucy and Teddy go to worship at the shrine.’ Jack smiled at Esther. ‘White again?’
Esther nodded, then looked up at Lucy.
‘Will you please give your mother my apologies for yet again missing her delicious Sunday dinner and explain to her why I need to rest for a day or two?’
Lucy chuckled. ‘Why is everybody so scared of my mother? I’ll certainly pass on your message, Esther, but once she hears that her precious daughter-in-law to be is indisposed, she’ll be down here like a shot.’
‘Oh no!’ Esther groaned.
Lucy placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
‘You’ve no need to fear her biting tongue, Esther. It’s all for show and she really thinks the world of you.’
That point was dramatically underlined late on the Sunday evening, when the bedroom door opened and Lucy’s head appeared round it, looking slightly apprehensive.
‘Just checking that you two weren’t at it in my absence, because you have a visitor who wouldn’t be amused.’
She stepped to one side and Constance Enright swept in.
‘My dearest Esther,’ she cooed as she leaned down to kiss her, ‘when Lucy told me all about your dreadful experience, I simply had to come back with them in the coach and see for myself that you were still alive and blooming. What a terrible ordeal it must have been and while I’d expect nothing else from Percy, I’m amazed, and frankly very disappointed, to hear that Jackson went along with it. And why aren’t you at work, Jackson? Wasn’t that your excuse for not visiting me in Barking yet again?’
‘I’ve just clocked off, Mother, and naturally I wanted to check on Esther, since she’s been on her own all day, as everyone else in this house was obeying your summons.’
‘That’ll be enough cheek, Jackson. Off you go and leave the ladies to speak privately.’
Jack gave Esther a chaste kiss, then wandered out through the bedroom door, passing Lucy in the hallway with his arms spread and his face set in a ‘could you not have prevented this?’ look. Lucy shrugged him an apology in return, then went back into the bedroom to offer Esther some moral support. With a shock she discovered that Constance was admiring the wedding dress still hanging in the window, with no idea that Esther had made it herself.
‘Such exquisite embroidery,’ Constance was oozing. ‘It must have cost an absolute fortune. Is it West End?’
‘Actually,’ Esther lied glibly, ‘it’s a very exclusive designer I know from my earlier days in the trade, and I’m sworn to secrecy in return for their agreeing to produce just this one garment.’
‘What do you think, Lucy?’ Constance enquired of her daughter, who was experiencing considerable difficulty in maintaining a straight face. ‘Wouldn’t it be simply wonderful if we could get matching dresses for Alice and Elizabeth?’
‘Who are they?’ Esther asked disingenuously, trying not to grin.
‘Your new bridesmaids, dear, didn’t Lucy tell you? She’s in the family way, if you didn’t know that either and clearly can’t expect to be looking her best in June, so I thought that Alice and Elizabeth would be perfect substitutes. They’re my sister Jane’s two girls and quite the young ladies. They’d look absolutely perfect in matching dresses to yours, so could you weave your magic on your old friend?’
‘I could try, of course,’ Esther replied evasively, ‘but ...’
‘Good, then that’s decided,’ Constance interrupted. ‘Just let me know when the girls will be needed in the West End to be measured. They live out in Buckinghamshire, you see, so we’ll need to make special arrangements for them to travel.’
‘Actually,’ Esther offered, seizing the wonderful opportunity that had opened up, ‘if you’d like to send them here, then assuming that the designer would be prepared to oblige, I could measure the girls myself. I’m quite accustomed to doing that sort of thing and it would give me an opportunity to get to know the girls you’ve chosen as my bridesmaids.’
‘An excellent notion!’ Constance declared, then turned to Lucy. ‘We mustn’t let Esther get too fatigued, dear, so we should perhaps go down to supper now. Will Edward be joining us?’
With a knowing wink over her mother’s shoulder back at Esther, Lucy began to lead the way out of the bedroom, before Constance turned and smiled back at the invalid.
‘I’ll be sure to look in on you again before I leave, Esther dear, so don’t be despondent. I’m only concerned that you don’t make yourself ill again with all the excitement.’
Esther managed to suppress the flow of nervous giggles until the door had been firmly shut, but she was still grinning half an hour later when Lucy popped back in with a huge smile on her face.
‘That was brilliantly done, Esther. Mother’s spent the whole of supper telling Teddy how she’s arranged for a secret designer, who probably takes commissions from the Queen in her spare time, to make matching dresses for Alice and Elizabeth.’
‘When does she leave?’ Esther asked anxiously.
‘First thing tomorrow morning, because she has her regular Ladies’ Guild meeting in the afternoon, so don’t worry on that score.’
‘Thank you for organising for Alice and Elizabeth to be my bridesmaids.’
‘Think nothing of it, since it was the simplest thing in the world. I just mentioned that they might be a good choice and within thirty seconds it had become Mother’s idea in the first place and was beyond all argument.’
Epilogue
Esther stared intently over the vicar’s balding head towards the image of Christ Crucified that was hanging off the back wall, in an attempt to hold back the tears of happiness. As the wedding service droned on in her ear, she gave her own thanks to God for the changes in her life that at one time she would have regarded as mere fantasy. A loving man standing nervously by her side, and on his other side the best uncle-in-law that anyone could wish for. She could even ignore the occasional sniffle from the row behind, from the woman who was about to become her mother-in-law, supported on one arm by a radiant Lucy who was diplomatically feeding her handkerchiefs.
Esther listened attentively to the vows that Jack was taking, since it would be her turn next. Finally she got there, when the man in the rather badly repaired clerical robes pronounced them man and wife and they walked proudly arm in arm through the front door of the church and back out into a perfect June day, where some irritating little drip was playing around with a camera and periodically disappearing under a black cloth that was a distinct improvement in his appearance.
Two hours later, on the back lawn and into their fourth glass of champagne each, Jack and Percy were engaged in a pleasant exchange of unpleasantries as they went back through the precise terms of the best man’s speech that had been mercifully short and m
ercilessly accurate. Constance Enright sauntered up to Esther like an ocean-going galleon with no rudder and breathed champagne all over her as she embraced her in a maternal hug that felt more like an assault.
‘Dearest Esther,’ she slurred. ‘Welcome to the family at long last. You’ve made Jackson so happy, which is all that I ever required of any wife he chose, but you’re so talented as well.’
‘I am?’ Esther queried.
Constance tapped her nose with her free hand.
‘You made those dresses, didn’t you? Lucy let it slip out. Your secret’s safe with me, provided you agree to make my gown for the Harvest Festival Ball.’
‘I’d be honoured,’ Esther replied, then caught Jack’s eye as he waved her over.
‘Uncle Percy’s organised our coach to the station, so better go and collect your bags for the honeymoon,’ he advised her as he looked her up and down and she felt a hot flush run through her system.
They stepped into the coach amid shouts of encouragement, well wishes for the future and yet more confetti. As the coach began to trundle down the laneway, with the hatch still open to allow in a breeze to moderate the heat of the late afternoon sun, Jack shouted up to the coachman. ‘I take it that you know the way to the station?’
‘Course I do,’ the coach driver replied. ‘But I’m goin’ a bit further than that, arn’ I?’
‘How do you mean?’ Jack enquired.
‘Well, someone back there — a tall bloke ’e were, an’ smokin’ a pipe — ’e slipped me a twenty ter take yer ter Southend. That’s right, in’t it?’
‘Yes,’ Jack chuckled, ‘that’s right.’ He sat back down next to Esther and gave her a huge kiss. ‘I can do that, now that you’re “Mrs Enright”. Just don’t become as bossy as the other one.’