by Polly Heron
‘I thought I did.’
She threw up her hands. ‘This is ridiculous.’ With an effort, she returned to the point of the conversation. ‘You say you told nobody except Mr Abrams about what happened during the war.’
‘I said,’ Norris replied, ‘that I told nobody, full stop.’
‘You didn’t tell Mr Abrams?’
‘No. I’m a gentleman even if it turns out you aren’t quite a lady.’
Molly ignored the slur. ‘Thank you for that. And…’ It was humiliating, but she had to ask. ‘Have you mentioned my socalled canoodling to anyone?’
‘I’m not a gossip. You should know that.’
Guilt made her start to soften, but she hardened swiftly when he spoke his next words.
‘Besides, it would have made me look foolish. I don’t want to be known as the man who spent years engaged to a girl who turned out to be a flirt.’
Was that what he thought of her now? Truly? Or was it his way of saving face? Molly gave Norris a polite smile, refusing to appear embarrassed even though she was squirming inside.
‘Thank you, Norris. You’ve put my mind at rest. I’ll leave you to enjoy your dinner.’
He saw her to the door.
‘So you don’t need to confess all to your new chap now.’
Yes, she did.
Chapter Thirty-Five
AFTER THE EXTRAORDINARY goings-on in the police station on Friday, Aaron had been permitted to go home. Even now, on Monday morning, he still felt rattled. It had taken all his willpower to steer clear of St Anthony’s over the weekend. Much as he wanted answers, he mustn’t hound Jacob for information, not least in case Inspector Woods accused him of putting the lad under pressure. But it was hard staying away when he wanted to see Danny. He knew the boy was all right, but somehow knowing wasn’t enough. He wanted to see him and spend time with him, just to make sure.
Now, under the bright morning sunshine, he was helping the grocery chap unload his delivery, ferrying sacks and boxes from the cart to the kitchen’s back door, when Inspector Woods came stalking down Church Road and turned in at the gates, sparing Aaron no more than a glance, his closed expression forbidding any acknowledgement.
Aaron immediately put on a spurt with the groceries, then hurried upstairs. Since Molly had left – left! Been chucked out, more like – Mrs Rostron had had the more able nursemaids taking turns to do a spot of clerical work, much to the annoyance of the nannies, who were deeply displeased at having their girls commandeered. The nursemaids weren’t best pleased either, as far as Aaron could tell, and the wish for Miss Allan to make a full recovery and return to her duties was so strong you could almost taste it.
Nurse Carmel was seated behind Miss Allan’s desk, fiddling resentfully with a stack of papers. ‘I’m meant to put this lot in alphabetical order,’ she groused. ‘I’ve never been so bored in my life.’
‘Is Inspector Woods in with Mrs Rostron?’
‘Yes.’
The office door at the end of the landing opened and Mrs Rostron appeared. ‘Nurse Carmel, would you— Oh, there you are, Mr Abrams. I was about to send for you. Would you come in, please?’
In the office, she and Inspector Woods sat on either side of the desk. Aaron wasn’t offered a seat.
‘Why do you need me?’ he asked, wanting to take the initiative.
‘Personally, I don’t,’ said the inspector, ‘but Mrs Rostron insists.’
‘I do indeed,’ she replied. ‘Mr Abrams, it seems the police have got to the bottom of certain events. Since you, a member of my staff, were inconvenienced by their suspicions, I think it proper that you should hear what Inspector Woods has to say.’
‘I’m here as a courtesy to you, Mrs Rostron,’ said the inspector. ‘I believe you’re entitled to hear this, as it concerns two of your boys.’
‘Two? I was prepared to hear about Jacob Layton, but…’
‘The other is Daniel Cropper.’
‘Is this connected to the boys’ escapade?’
‘I fear so, madam. There have been thefts over the past couple of years from folk in Stretford and Urmston. All small things – jewellery, watches, pens. Nice pieces, but small. The police over that way never found the culprit and never recovered the missing things. It now transpires that the stolen items were immediately brought into Chorlton, which is a different police area, and from here they were taken across the Mersey into Sale, which is in a different county. It’s no wonder the Stretford police couldn’t trace them.’
‘Very regrettable,’ said Mrs Rostron, ‘but what has that to do with my boys?’
Aaron could have hugged her for that ‘my’.
‘It was a clever system – clever and unpleasant. Children were used to carry the stolen goods across the border into Chorlton. Who would suspect a child? They had no idea what they were carrying.’
‘You mean – Layton and Cropper?’
‘Amongst others. Young Layton fell foul of a thug-in-themaking called Shirley Henshaw, who is, incidentally, the nephew of Hobart Carstairs, also known as Bunny.’
‘The hot-potato man?’ asked Mrs Rostron.
‘The Henshaw boy forced Jacob to carry packets on his way home from school.’
Mrs Rostron inhaled a small gasp. ‘I thought it was the right thing to leave him at the Stretford school.’
‘Shirley Henshaw had a tried and trusted way of keeping children in his gang. The first time they made a delivery for him, they’d be attacked and the packet would be “stolen”. Then Henshaw would tell them they had to carry on working in order to pay back what they’d lost. In due course, Layton recruited Cropper – and before you say anything, he was forced to do it. The lads were paid sixpence each time they did a job. Apparently, Cropper wanted money so he could save up to run away.’
‘He doesn’t need to run away any more,’ said Aaron.
‘If the boys have money,’ said Mrs Rostron, ‘they can donate it to the police widows’ fund.’
‘Thank you, madam.’
‘I’ll make it clear to them that both the police and I are aware they received money, just in case they feel tempted to leave it where they’ve hidden it.’
‘How did the boys pass on the things they brought to Chorlton?’ Aaron asked.
‘They sat on a bench on Chorlton Green and waited for a man to sit next to them—’
‘That’s it!’ Aaron exclaimed. ‘I knew I’d seen him before. That fellow at the police station, the one who was taken away in the police van – he collected the packets, didn’t he?’
‘Bill Thompson, aye, but it’s his word against the boys’ at present.’
‘And against mine.’ Aaron described seeing Thompson twice on the Green when first Danny was there, then Jacob.
‘It’s circumstantial, not hard evidence,’ said the inspector. ‘Will you give a statement?’
‘I would have done so last week had I known what was going on.’
‘At that time, we had reason to believe you might be involved.’
‘What was I supposed to have done?’
‘I’ll come to that in due course. Without disclosing details of the investigation, I can tell you that Thompson has been under observation in Cheshire for selling what were presumed to be stolen goods, though they didn’t match anything on Cheshire’s stolen goods list. The Cheshire police wanted to find out where he was getting these things.’
‘And you started comparing notes,’ said Mrs Rostron.
‘We were sure Carstairs – Bunny – was involved, but we couldn’t find out how the items were being moved around.’
‘Until Jacob Layton collapsed in a sobbing heap in the police station, thinking he was about to be carted off in the police van,’ said Aaron. ‘Poor kid.’
‘He was most helpful once he calmed down sufficiently to make any sense. It’s thanks to him we found out about the children. The reason the other lad toppled into the overflow was because they saw a bobby on the beat and their guilty consciences did the re
st. I take it the Cropper boy is recovered now?’
‘Fully,’ said Mrs Rostron. ‘I’ll hand him over in good health to the uncle who is to adopt him.’
Yes, and where was the damn uncle? Aaron shifted irritably. It was more than time Uncle Angus came to claim Danny. He had a poor sense of priorities not to have come rushing here the moment he was informed of Mr Cropper’s death. How wanted must Danny feel right now?
‘You still haven’t explained my so-called part in this,’ said Aaron. He sounded more annoyed than he meant to, but of course he was annoyed, and it was ruddy Uncle Angus’s fault.
‘You and Carstairs were friends, so we thought perhaps you were the one passing things to Thompson.’
The disbelief he still hadn’t come to terms with washed over him again. ‘I thought Bunny was my friend.’
‘He was a friend to all the world,’ the inspector said drily.
‘He was a friend to St Anthony’s,’ observed Mrs Rostron. ‘Look how he provided hot potatoes for the children on May Day, and he wouldn’t take a penny for them. Everyone said he had a heart of gold.’
‘Something was gold, but not his heart,’ said the inspector. ‘Possibly the contents of his strong-box.’
‘Have you found him?’ asked Aaron.
Woods shook his head. ‘Vanished, taking goodness knows what with him. He lodged in a cottage on Sandy Lane and it’s clear from the state of his room that he made a hasty getaway. We’re sure he had about his person the stolen item or items the two boys were supposed to take to Thompson. Young Jacob said he put the packet on the ground when he tried to make a rope out of his coat, but when he searched for it later, it was gone. He was scared witless about what this Shirl character would do to him. He kept babbling about being shoved under a tram, would you believe.’
There was a brief burst of knocking and the door burst open. Michael Layton practically fell into the room, followed by Nurse Carmel.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Rostron. I tried to stop him.’
‘It’s our Jacob,’ said Michael. ‘He says you’re going to send him to the reformatory. Are you? Only, if you do, you’ll have to send me an’ all. Jacob’s my brother and it’s my job to look after him.’
The sound of children’s voices floated over the hedge surrounding the rec. Molly peeped through the gate to see if Aaron was inside, perhaps playing rounders, but he wasn’t. Good. That increased the chances of finding him at St Anthony’s, preferably on his own.
She walked down Church Road and through the gates into the girls’ playground, where some girls were sitting in the shade and others were skipping.
Queen, Queen Ca-ro-line
Washed her hair in tur-pen-time
Tur-pen-tine will make it shine
Queen, Queen Ca-ro-line.
The familiar skipping rhyme bounced around inside her head, threatening to take up residence. Smiling at the girls as she passed, she headed towards Aaron’s workshop, only to be wrenched out of her single-minded purpose as Jacob came tearing up to her, followed by his brother.
‘Miss! Miss!’ yelled Jacob. ‘Do you want to hear my news? I’m staying. I’m really staying.’
‘Calm down,’ said Michael. ‘Miss doesn’t know what you’re talking about.’ His face shone with pride as he addressed Molly. ‘Mrs Rostron says it wasn’t our Jacob’s fault that he ended up delivering stolen goods, so he’s allowed to stay.’
‘And that Shirl is going to be sent away to a reformatory,’ Jacob added. ‘Not the same one as our Thad, in case they get together, which would be murder.’ His grin almost split his face in two. ‘I’ll never see him again – Shirl, I mean. I’ll never ever see him again.’
He dashed away, whooping for joy. Michael shrugged at Molly and ran after him. What was all that about? Whatever it was, her heart lifted at the sight of Jacob’s happiness. It must be to do with what had happened by the brook, but she would save her questions for later. The mission that had brought her here was more important than anything.
As she approached the workshop, Aaron’s figure appeared in the doorway and he stepped outside. His shirt-sleeves were rolled up and the top two buttons on his collarless shirt were open, just like on her first day here as secretary. He stopped at the sight of her and she felt a flutter of uncertainty, but then he came towards her, smiling in welcome.
She spoke first. She couldn’t have him looking so pleased. Not until he knew and had made up his mind about her.
‘I want to tell you what happened to me in the war,’ she said.
‘You don’t have to. Your old fiancé had no business saying what he did and I socked him one to make sure he knew it.’
‘You gave him that black eye?’
‘Turned into a proper shiner, did it? Good. Incidentally, when I referred to what he said, I meant only what he blurted out in front of you. I don’t mean I listened while he poured out your story.’
‘You were too busy punching him.’ She shouldn’t laugh, she really shouldn’t, but she did.
Aaron laughed too. ‘You’ve got to defend a lady’s honour.’
That sobered her. ‘You might think differently when I’ve told you my story.’
‘Might I? I doubt it somehow. But I want to get to know you better, Miss Molly Watson. I want to know you a lot better and if you choose to tell me your story, I’ll be honoured to listen.’
‘I don’t know about that. You might think it grubby.’
‘I can’t imagine you did anything so bad.’
‘It isn’t a question of good or bad – or I don’t think it is.’ Or was that her way of skating over her shame?
‘I’ve got a couple of folding chairs,’ said Aaron. ‘If we sit over there in the shade, we shouldn’t be disturbed.’
He disappeared inside, returning to set up the chairs by the wall, in the shade of a tree that overhung from next door. He waited for her to sit down before he too sat. Her heart beat slow and hard as her mouth dried.
‘It won’t take long to tell you. It’s the same old story, I’m afraid…’
Aaron listened closely while she spoke. She made herself look at him when she had finished.
‘So now you know.’ She shrugged, then wished she hadn’t. It might look as if she didn’t care, when really it was nerves.
‘You have just convinced me,’ Aaron said slowly, ‘that you’re the right girl for me. I’ve wanted to tell my own story, to give you the chance to make up your mind about me.’
‘Your story?’
‘When I was a soldier, I came back on leave. I didn’t come home. I stayed on the south coast and while I was there, I had a fling with a girl called Lily. She was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen…until now. I never saw her again, but I sometimes wonder about her. I went back to find her after the war. I didn’t like to barge in on her, so I called at the village shop and asked after her. I said I was an old friend. The shopkeeper said she wasn’t Lily Hopkins any more, she was Lily Rogers.’
‘Married?’
‘With two children. I didn’t feel I could ask anything else. What I wanted to know was when the older child had been born, but I couldn’t ask that, especially not with other folk in the shop, all listening.’
‘Did you go and see her?’ Molly asked.
‘I would have liked to, but it might have caused trouble for her. I hope with all my heart that I didn’t leave her in trouble; I hope she wasn’t obliged to marry a man she wouldn’t otherwise have chosen; but I’ll never know.’ Aaron leaned forward, capturing Molly’s hands in his and holding them tenderly, rubbing them with the pads of his thumbs. ‘I might have fathered a baby out of wedlock and that helps me understand what happened to you and the unbearable choice you had to make. I hope your baby was adopted by a loving couple with the means to provide a comfortable background. I hope your child is loved and appreciated every single day. And I hope the same thing for my child, if I have one.’
‘Oh, Aaron.’ Tears thickened her voice. ‘When I told Norris, h
e forgave me.’
‘Forgave you?’
Aaron’s indignation healed something inside Molly that had long been raw. Forgiveness from one man, understanding from another. Her body felt lighter as a burden was removed.
Aaron slid from the chair onto one knee, his face close to hers. ‘I can’t wait any longer to ask. Will you let me take care of you, Molly? Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife and having a family with me?’
‘Mr Abrams! Mr Abrams!’
With a gusty sigh, Aaron rose to his feet, but he kept hold of Molly’s hand.
‘Over here,’ he called.
A couple of lads skidded into view. ‘Daniel Cropper’s uncle has come to take him away. Mrs Rostron says do you want to say goodbye?’
There was a dazed look in Aaron’s eyes. Molly squeezed his hand.
‘We’ll both go.’
They made their way to the office, where Mrs Rostron was speaking to a man whose plumpness and ruddy colour made him a shocking contrast to the brother he had lost. Danny stood to one side, his fidgety hands making him appear unsettled and downcast.
‘Mr Abrams,’ said Mrs Rostron, ‘and Miss Watson: I wasn’t expecting you. May I introduce Mr Angus Cropper? Mr Cropper, Mr Abrams and Miss Watson.’
‘How do you do?’ Molly was aware of Aaron’s tension. It wasn’t like him at all. He was normally good-natured and calm.
‘How do?’ Mr Cropper turned to his nephew. ‘Say goodbye, Daniel.’
‘His name is Danny,’ Aaron said quietly.
‘I beg your pardon?’ said Mr Cropper.
‘His name is Danny. That’s what he prefers to be called. It’s what his parents called him.’
Mr Cropper gave Danny a smile. ‘Danny it is, then.’
‘Mr Abrams saved me the night of the accident,’ Danny piped up. ‘So did Miss Watson.’
‘We were in the right place at the right time.’ Molly didn’t know what was happening, but she felt she had to step in and protect Aaron during this situation.
‘Thank you for what you did.’ Mr Cropper slanted an uncertain look at Aaron before saying heartily, ‘Time to go, Daniel – Danny.’ He laughed. ‘That’ll take a bit of getting used to. I’ve always thought of you as Daniel.’