One Snowy Night

by Rita Bradshaw

  Ellie took in a shuddering breath. ‘Then go now. Go, Ruby.’

  She had failed. She was going to have to leave Ellie with him, this monster. Her inward moan of protest was like a physical pain. Walking across to the door she turned the key in the lock and opened it.

  Daniel had moved back a couple of paces as he had heard the key click and was now leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes narrowed. She watched his mouth stretch into a sneer as he realized Ellie was staying put. ‘You show your face here again, with or without the whore with the razor, and I’ll do for you,’ he said very softly. ‘That’s a promise.’

  So Flo had shown him her razor, had she? Good for her. Ruby didn’t look back as she walked to the stairs, but as she reached the top one, his hand came out and gripped her arm. ‘One little push, that’s all it’d take,’ he murmured, still in the same quiet tone. ‘And it’d give me great pleasure to do it.’

  ‘Take your filthy hands off me.’ She didn’t shout or even raise her voice, but the steel-like quality was devoid of the fear she was feeling inside.

  He let go of her but she could tell she’d got under his skin when he growled, ‘Ellie’s mine and she stays mine. Got it? She don’t want you here no more than I do.’

  She didn’t reply to this but walked down the stairs to where Flo was standing with Bridget behind her. As she reached the hall, Flo said, ‘The other one’s in the kitchen with his lass nursing a cut lip. Daniel punched him in the gob when he found out Howard’d let us in.’

  Ruby nodded. At this present moment words were beyond her. The thought of leaving Ellie here was almost more than she could bear.

  ‘He was about to have a go at us but Flo waved the razor under his nose,’ Bridget put in, her tone one of awe. She could never have squared up to him like Flo had.

  ‘She’s not coming?’ Flo looked up the stairs as she spoke. Daniel had gone into Ellie’s room and shut the door and all was quiet.

  Ruby shook her head. ‘She’s too frightened of what he’d do to her.’

  Flo nodded. ‘Aye, his type always pick a lass they know they can push around. I’ve seen it a hundred times. Meself, I’d wait till the swine was asleep and then use a knife on his wedding tackle. Still, we’re all different.’

  Bridget had turned and opened the front door and as they walked out of the house into the hot street Ruby paused and looked towards the stairs one last time. ‘Bye, Ellie,’ she said under her breath. ‘I’m sorry.’ Sorry for bringing her to Newcastle; sorry for not seeing what Daniel was earlier and doing something about it; sorry for leaving her here now in a life of fear and degradation . . . This was all down to her. Somehow she should have protected Ellie better.

  As though Flo had read her mind, she said, ‘You’ve done all you can, lass, and this isn’t your fault.’

  They began to walk, Flo and Bridget either side of her, and despite telling herself she couldn’t break down, not here, in the street, Ruby’s voice was choked when she said, ‘I feel like it is.’

  ‘Well, don’t,’ Flo said stolidly. ‘She’s not a bairn, she made her choices. You’re not the only one who didn’t like him, none of us did. We all tried to warn her not to get mixed up with Daniel Bell but she wouldn’t have any of it. One of me sisters was the same. Our Kitty was a bonny lass and nice with it, you know? But she was determined to have this bloke who worked at the docks from the first time she laid eyes on him. Wouldn’t hear a word said about him, even though we all felt there was something strange about him. He had a way of looking at you, I can’t explain it. Anyway, they’d only bin wed some six months or so when she broke down to me mam one day and told her what’d bin going on in the bedroom. An animal, he was. Unnatural isn’t the word for it. Me mam an’ da said she could come home to them, and me da and brothers went round and knocked ten bells out of him that same night, but Kitty wouldn’t leave him, don’t ask me why. It was another month or two and then they found her with her head in the gas oven. Eighteen, she was. Me mam’s never got over it.’ And then, realizing the story was less than helpful in the circumstances, she added, ‘Anyway, all I’m saying is that you couldn’t have stopped Ellie going with him. The blighter played her like a violin from day one.’

  The three of them parted company at the tram stop. Bridget and Flo had arranged to meet the rest of the crowd they hung about with and they invited Ruby along, ‘to take you out of yourself’ as Bridget put it. But all Ruby wanted to do was to get back to her lodgings. She felt as desolate as when she’d found out about Adam and Olive, but, as she told herself as the tram rattled along, she’d had Ellie then . . .

  ‘I didn’t know she was coming.’ As Daniel closed the bedroom door and stood staring at her, Ellie was frozen with fear. ‘I swear it, I had no idea. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I haven’t seen her since I came here, you know that. I wouldn’t, Daniel.’

  He continued to stare at her, enjoying the scent of her fear. Without speaking he crooked his finger, beckoning her forward, and when she was standing trembling in front of him he raised his eyebrows. ‘That the truth, Ellie?’

  ‘Yes, aye, I swear it.’

  ‘Then you’ve nowt to worry about.’

  ‘You – you believe me?’

  ‘You might be stupid, Ellie –’ he paused, then lifted her chin with one finger – ‘you know you’re stupid, right?’ and at her nod he smiled. ‘But stupid as you are, I don’t think you’re dim enough to go against what I’ve told you. Bad things happen to people who do that as I’ve told you before, but we won’t go into that now.’

  ‘No, Daniel.’

  ‘And although you’re none too bright and nowt to look at, I love you, don’t I?’

  She nodded.

  ‘And I look after you, don’t I?’

  She nodded again.

  ‘Aye, that’s right. But for me you’d still be slaving away in that workhouse laundry but now you have this nice comfortable room and plenty to eat and drink, and we have fun, you an’ me. I took you to the picture theatre in Westgate Road the other day, didn’t I? You enjoyed that.’

  Ellie stared at him. They’d left the theatre to go to a pub where Daniel had arranged to meet some ‘pals’, and these same pals had subjected her to two hours of rape and buggery in a room upstairs. She had found it difficult to walk or sit down for days afterwards, but when she’d cried and said she couldn’t accommodate any customers for a while, he had drugged her and still let men come to the house. She said none of this, however, merely bowing her head and drawing her lip between her teeth.

  ‘Look at me when I’m talking to you. Did you enjoy it?’

  Her head shot up at his changed tone and she gabbled, ‘Yes, aye, I did.’

  ‘Aye.’ He softened his voice again. ‘That’s a good girl.’

  She was still unsure of what he was going to do, knowing from grim experience that he could be unpredictable, so when he said, ‘I blame Howard for this, he should never have let them three into the house,’ she sagged with relief. She had realized within twenty-four hours of moving in that Daniel called the shots and Howard did what he was told, same as most folk Daniel came into contact with. Howard was the one who let the customers in and out and remained in the house, but Daniel was always out and about somewhere. Daisy had told her that Daniel had a finger in plenty of pies and had some other girls working the streets for him. They were lucky, Daisy had said, that they had a room each here and weren’t one of his lassies working the docks or the pubs. Some of them had come to a sticky end. Funny, but she didn’t feel lucky, Ellie had said back, to which Daisy had just shrugged. The top two rooms of the house had been converted into one, and it was here that Daniel ran his gambling den most nights. After this finished in the early hours it was understood that she and Daisy ‘entertained’ any gamblers who felt so inclined.

  Daniel turned, opening the door as he said, ‘Put something on and come down to eat,’ and for a moment she found it difficult to obey his command for am
azement that she had got off so lightly. Gratitude that he wasn’t going to beat her or worse brought her scrambling to comply, and once she had pulled on a dress and knotted her hair at the back of her head she found him waiting for her at the top of the stairs.

  Just as he had caught hold of Ruby’s arm, he now did the same with Ellie, his voice quiet as he murmured, ‘I let your pal leave here in one piece this time but that don’t mean I’m going soft. You know that, don’t you?’

  He had propelled her to the top of the steep narrow stairs as he’d spoken, and she looked down, the terror he always inspired making her stammer as she said, ‘Ye–yes, I – I know.’

  ‘Good.’ He held her arm for a moment more and then said softly, ‘Stop trembling. I’m not angry with you, not this time. Come and have a bite and something to drink. You’ve put on a bit of flesh the last few months but you’re still too scrawny. Men like a lass with a bit of meat on her bones. I need to fatten you up.’

  It was for all the world as though he was talking about a cow being fattened up for market, and as she followed him down the stairs, Ellie reflected that was exactly what she felt like. Cash on the hoof.

  Chapter Eleven

  Edward Forsythe was well aware that the young woman who had, by all accounts, saved his sister’s life, would not take too kindly to him turning up on her doorstep when she was expecting Clarissa’s chauffeur to call for her. There had been a finality to her goodbye on Monday evening that had stated quite clearly she wished him gone, and thinking back over their conversation when he had driven her home he had come to the conclusion that he hadn’t acquitted himself particularly well. He had said as much to Clarissa when he had returned to the house and his sister, with her gift for cutting through all the flannel and getting right to the bone of something, had raised her eyebrows and said, ‘And that matters to you?’

  He had brooded on it all evening through the endless dinner at Lord Rochdale’s before finally admitting to himself that yes, it mattered. It mattered a great deal. For some reason he wanted Miss Ruby Morgan to like him. It was as simple as that. And it was because of this that he had stated casually over breakfast the morning after the dinner that he thought he might stay in the country for a few days rather than returning straight to town, if Clarissa was happy to have him? Clarissa had been happy, as he’d known she would be. His had been a lonely childhood – his parents had had little to do with any of their offspring, preferring to leave them in the care of their nanny and the other servants, and his two older brothers had been more like twins with only fifteen months between them – but when he had returned home for the summer hols from his prep school one day when he was eight years old and found a small gurgling baby sister installed in the nursery, he’d been enchanted.

  He smiled to himself as he drove, remembering how Clarissa had changed his times at home from that point. She had been a demanding baby and a stubborn toddler who had grown into a wilful and determined little girl and then an indefatigable young woman with a mind of her own, but she was also warm and generous and loving, and he had adored her, and she in her turn had adored him right back. Their parents had been nonplussed by this cuckoo in the nest who wouldn’t be put in her place of being seen but not heard, and who defied them in a way he and his brothers wouldn’t have dreamed of doing. They had attempted to marry her off to an earl when she was eighteen years old and had been upset at her adamant refusal of what they considered an excellent match, and when she had rebuffed the attentions of another gentleman with excellent connections the following year had been beside themselves, especially considering her interest in suffrage. And then she had met her brigadier.

  Edward’s smile widened. Twenty years older than Clarissa and a widower to boot, Godfrey was an army man from the top of his head to the bottom of his boots, but the two had fallen in love and nothing his parents could say had prevented the match. Godfrey was the last man in the world he would have expected his sister to marry if he was truthful but they were sublimely happy and living proof that opposites attract. Their union had, to some extent, restored his faith in the concept of true love, although he had never been assailed by the emotion himself and had no wish to be. His work was his life, and with his business interests growing in the United States of America the knowledge that he could just take off at a moment’s notice without any ties to hold him down was important.

  He nodded to himself, and then said out loud, ‘Yes, damn important,’ as though someone had challenged him on the subject. He enjoyed the company of women, both in bed and out of it, but had never felt the desire to make any of his relationships permanent, always choosing ladies of like mind. His present attachment was with a married woman in his social circle whose husband’s mistress was also part of their set. Arabella and her spouse had what she called an ‘open’ marriage, neither one objecting to the other’s dalliances elsewhere as long as there was a certain amount of discretion employed by all parties.

  Thinking of his association with Arabella had wiped the smile from his face and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably as he remembered his conversation with Ruby. Arabella was typical of the social butterfly he had denounced so forcibly, he thought wryly, before justifying his hypocrisy by telling himself he had been talking about the young, unmarried flappers with their motto of ‘anything goes’, silly little girls who were a danger to themselves and everyone else. The excuse didn’t sit well, however, and he gnawed at his lower lip for a moment, asking himself what the hell he was doing in trying to further his acquaintance with Ruby Morgan.

  He brooded about it for a full minute before brushing his conscience to one side; he had had a lot of practice doing this over the last years and it came easy. Concentrating on the road, he put everything out of his mind except enjoying the feeling of being in command of the powerful car.

  Ruby hadn’t slept well for the last two nights, tossing and turning and worrying about Ellie, and then when she did fall into a restless slumber having disturbing nightmares she couldn’t remember the moment she woke up. She had spent the previous day with Mabel, taking her landlady out to lunch before she had treated her to a Charlie Chaplin film at the local picture house. She’d long since realized Mabel was lonely and that her gruffness was a way of coping with the grief she felt about her husband and son, but in spite of their friendship which had grown over the last months, she also knew Mabel was narrow-minded and fixed in her views and if she had breathed a word about Ellie’s circumstances to the landlady, Mabel would never countenance Ellie stepping over her threshold again.

  Not that there was much chance of that, Ruby reflected miserably as she got ready for her proposed lunch with Clarissa. Ellie was completely under Daniel’s control and while she was useful to him he would make sure she went nowhere. Part of her wished Bridget had never told her the truth because the pain of knowing was raw. She had never liked Daniel, but before Bridget had confided in her she had been able to comfort herself that Ellie was happy. Or perhaps fool herself was the right word? Whatever, the reality of Ellie’s life now was so much worse than anything her worrying had conjured up in the past.

  She dressed carefully in a simple pale-grey skirt and jacket she had only finished making some weeks before, teaming it with a buttercup-yellow blouse and stylish hat in the same shade that framed her face and gave her brown eyes gold tints. It was the first time she’d had an occasion to wear the outfit, which she’d copied from a picture in Vogue magazine; it was too grand for everyday life and definitely upper-class, but it had been the last project before she had left her classes with Madame Poiret and she had wanted to impress her tutor. The little Frenchwoman had been fulsome in her praise of her star pupil, so much so that Ruby had been somewhat embarrassed when she was held up as the goal the others should model their aspirations on.

  ‘This, this is what makes my life worthwhile,’ Madame Poiret had said dramatically, clasping her hands together under her bosom and rolling her eyes. ‘For this I endure what has to be endured.’ He
r black eyes had swept over the rest of the class sitting in meek silence, leaving each person in no doubt they were part of the endurance Madame was suffering. ‘Miss Morgan, she listens to her mentor, yes? Not only listens but applies herself to what I say. And the result?’ Her voice had risen to a rapturous quiver. ‘Perfection. Yes, I say it again, perfection.’ She had unclasped her plump hands and taken Ruby’s and for a moment Ruby thought Madame was going to waltz her round the sewing room. Instead Madame had contented herself with a wide smile. ‘Exquisite work, my dear.’

  Ruby now surveyed herself in the mahogany cheval mirror she had bought shortly after beginning the classes with Madame Poiret, when she had realized the importance of seeing the whole of her reflection and how the clothes she was making hung on her frame. The suit was plain but screamed exclusivity and a hefty price tag; no one would dream she had made it herself. Madame had taught her the importance of cut and cloth and a hundred things beside, and she had absorbed every single detail like a sponge. Another year, maybe two, and she would have saved enough to start thinking about taking her dream to the next stage, because she didn’t intend to work in a laundry for the rest of her life.

  Her eyes narrowed as she adjusted her hat. Neither would she put her future happiness in the hands of any man. She intended to be in charge of her destiny. This was a new era for women but it didn’t mean the fight against men’s exploitation of them at every level of society was over. Far from it. Lady Russell had outlined some of the basic reforms Lady Astor was agitating for, reforms that had seen her come under savage attack by her male colleagues time and time again. Things like nursery schools, votes for women at twenty-one, equal guardianship for mothers and fathers, the abolition of the death penalty for expectant mothers, the protection of married women who lost their citizenship if they married a foreigner . . . To society’s shame the list was endless.