by Kitty Neale
At last he was at the bottom. Slowly, Robbie pushed open another unlocked door. He sensed it was a small room and, judging by how dark it was, he guessed there were no windows. He lit another match, and seeing he was right he switched on the light. Despite being taut with tension, Robbie smiled. He was in the back office of the shop; this was where he’d find his treasure.
It didn’t take him long to locate the safe. He turned the combination lock and laughed out loud when the safe door sprang open. This all seemed so easy, almost too easy. He stuffed his pockets with the notes, taking a gleeful moment to hold a handful of money in the air and kiss it, grinning to himself as he thought of the flashy car he would soon own. He’d never seen this amount of money before, let alone touched it, and wished he had thought to bring a bag to put it in. His pockets were bulging and he even had money stuffed into his socks.
When the safe was empty Robbie went to the door that led to the main shop. Why not, he thought? He was here now so he might as well get Dottie a ring. It would save him having to waste any of his newly acquired wealth on buying one. Robbie paused for a moment. This was going to be more risky. When he’d clocked the shop from outside he’d noted the windows were protected by pull-down metal grilles, but they didn’t completely obscure the interior. Sod it, he thought, he was dressed in black so hard to spot, and if he was stealthy enough he felt sure he could pull it off.
Cautiously Robbie pulled down the handle and pushed the door slightly open. He peeped through the small gap, his wide eyes scanning the street in front. It looked clear. There wasn’t anyone visible so, feeling more confident, he pushed the door fully open.
Alarm bells pierced the air. The clanging was so loud that it startled Robbie into a frozen stance. He panicked, looking all around him as his mind went into a frenzied state. Should he go to the street door and make a run for it out the front? No, the door would be locked. He would have to go back onto the roof and climb down the ladder, but the police might arrive before he was able to get away.
Hide? He could hide. Wait for them to search the place then sneak out. Where could he hide though? In the attic? No, they would find him there. He had no choice. He would have to get out the way he’d come in.
Robbie made a dash for the stairs and fell up them in his haste. The adrenalin pumping through his body stopped him feeling the pain in his shins, and, gathering himself together, with the alarm bells still piercing his ears, he reached the dark attic. Fear gripped him as he suddenly realised he couldn’t reach the skylight, yet he still jumped up in vain, trying again and again to grasp the window frame but failing each time. He searched for his matches as twenty, ten and five pound notes dropped from his pockets.
Robbie wasn’t concerned about the money right now. He had to strike a match to light the room – had to find something to stand on so that he could reach the skylight and make his escape.
Chapter 6
On Wednesday, when her early shift finished, Dorothy collected her purse from her locker at the bakery and turned to her best friend, Nelly Jackson. They were completely different in looks, Nelly being short and stout with broad features and mousy brown hair, but they had been firm friends for many years.
‘Nelly, I won’t be walking home with you today,’ Dorothy said. ‘I haven’t heard from Robbie since the weekend and, as he was feeling poorly, I want to check that he’s OK.’
Nelly scowled. ‘You know my thoughts on that man … you’re mad to chase him.’
‘I’m not chasing him, I’m worried about him,’ Dorothy replied curtly.
‘Well, I doubt he’d be so worried about you, but it’s your lookout. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Dorothy knew how Nelly felt about Robbie, and though it irritated her she chose to ignore her churlishness. She suspected that Nelly was jealous, but right now she was too worried about Robbie to care. There was an awful stomach bug going around, and, as he’d felt sick in the cinema last Saturday, she hoped he hadn’t succumbed to it. Robbie would normally have called round on Tuesday to see her, but he hadn’t shown up so she assumed he must still be unwell.
Dorothy decided her first port of call would be the garage where he worked. She felt sure that now she was his unofficial fiancée he wouldn’t mind her popping in, especially as she had some fresh ginger biscuits for him and ginger was supposed to be good for an upset tummy. They were the broken ones from work that Mr Epstein had said were in too many bits to sell in the bakery. Though Mr Epstein allowed this small concession, in all other ways he was a mean, strict boss and a stickler for punctuality who was known for sacking girls at a moment’s notice. Still, the unsold or slightly stale bread and cakes had always been a godsend for Dorothy to take home, and in exchange her mother washed Bertie’s shirts and overalls for him. Dorothy smiled as she thought what a proud woman her mum was – never one to accept charity.
The garage door was open when she arrived and, as Dorothy looked around the greasy workroom, she spied Robbie’s boss with his head under the bonnet of a very ostentatious-looking black car.
‘Hello, sorry to bother you, Mr Thomas,’ Dorothy called nervously.
She made the man jump and he almost bumped his head on the bonnet. He walked towards her, wiping his hands on an oily rag. ‘What can I do for you, young lady?’
‘I’m Dorothy, Robbie’s girlfriend. I wondered if I could have a very quick word with him.’
The smile disappeared from Mr Thomas’s face and was replaced with a scowl. ‘You could if he was here but he ain’t, and if you catch up with the lazy so-and-so, tell him from me that I’d like to have a word with him too.’
Dorothy was convinced that Robbie must be really sick if he wasn’t at work. ‘Oh … I’m sorry, he must be ill at home. I’ll call round there.’
‘He hasn’t shown his face so far this week, nor has he sent word to me that he’s ill. You tell him he’ll be lucky if he’s still got a job when he can be bothered to turn up.’
‘But, Mr Thomas, there must be something dreadfully wrong if Robbie hasn’t shown up for work. Please, give him a chance to explain. He needs this job. We’re getting married, you know.’
Roger Thomas shook his head and returned to the car he had been working on, muttering under his breath, ‘Good luck to you, you’re gonna need it.’
Dorothy decided the man had only said that because he was angry with Robbie, and dismissed his rude comment as she made her way through the streets to the other side of Battersea and Robbie’s house.
When she finally reached the impressive terraced house where Robbie lived with his brother, Dorothy knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Worried, she banged harder and then called through the letterbox, ‘Robbie! Robbie!’
A short, rosy-faced woman appeared from the house next door. ‘Goodness, what’s all this noise? You won’t find the Fergusons in at this time of day. They’ll be at work.’
‘I know, thank you, but my fiancé Robbie Ferguson hasn’t been at work this week so I wondered if he was at home sick.’
The woman cocked her head to one side and said, ‘Now I come to think about it, I haven’t seen Robbie this week either, or heard any of his music blaring on that gramophone of his.’
Dorothy was becoming seriously concerned now. Robbie wasn’t at work or at home. Had something really awful happened? Was he in hospital?
‘Thank you,’ she called to the woman as she dashed along the street, heading for Adrian’s office, her anxiety reaching fever pitch. Please let Adrian be there, and please let my Robbie be OK, her mind chanted over and over again as she hoped for the best, yet feared the worst.
When his office door flew open, Adrian wasn’t surprised to see Dorothy standing there. He had been half expecting this, though when he saw the ashen look on her face his heart sank as once again he knew he had been left to pick up the pieces of Robbie’s irresponsibility.
‘Adrian, I’m so sorry to barge in on you like this but it’s Robbie … I’m really worried about him. Is he OK?
’
Though he’d only met Dorothy a few times whilst she’d been seeing Robbie, Adrian’s impression was that she was a nice girl, and he dreaded what he had to say.
‘I don’t know what to tell you. That brother of mine is the bane of my life,’ he said reluctantly as he lit his pipe while gathering his thoughts. Smoke billowed as he puffed hard on the stem to get it going. The pungent aroma of tobacco began to fill the office.
‘What do you mean? Where’s Robbie? Is he all right?’ Dorothy begged.
The poor girl, thought Adrian, she has no idea, and the least he could do was try to protect her. Robbie was in Scotland, staying with their sister Myra, but he’d keep that bit of information to himself. ‘As far as I know he’s perfectly well,’ he told Dorothy.
‘So … so he’s not ill?’
Adrian didn’t know the full story. Robbie had just told Myra that he was fed up with London, and when they’d spoken on the telephone he’d been evasive. ‘I received a bit of a garbled phone call from him yesterday. It appears he’s up north, but I don’t know exactly where, and from what I can make out he has no plans to return,’ he told her in a rush. There, he had told it as it was. No sugar-coating it, but he immediately started looking for his handkerchief in anticipation of the tears that were bound to come next from Dorothy.
‘But I don’t understand. He … he never said anything to me … and … and we’re supposed to be getting married. Why has he gone up north?’
‘I have no idea. I’m so sorry, my dear, but that’s our Rob for you. He’s never had any consideration for anyone except himself and you’ll never change him.’
‘No, no, this can’t be right. What about our wedding?
Adrian stood up and walked round his desk to place his arm gently over Dorothy’s shoulder. It obviously hadn’t sunk in yet and he said gently, ‘I think you had better forget any ideas about weddings. We won’t be seeing Rob for a very long time. If ever.’
The handle on the mangle felt extra heavy today, and as Alice turned it she was surprised to hear the front door slam shut, followed by heavy footsteps running up the bare stairs, then the sound of Dorothy’s bedroom door slamming shut too.
Alice hurried upstairs and opened Dorothy’s door to find her daughter strewn across the bed, sobbing her eyes out. ‘Whatever’s the matter, love?’ she asked as she rushed to her daughter’s side.
‘Oh, Mum … he’s left me,’ Dorothy answered, hair streaked across her face and sticking to her tears.
‘What do you mean? Who’s left you?’
‘Robbie! Robbie has gone up north and his brother said he might never come back.’
‘What? But you two are engaged to be married. What’s he doing up north?’
‘I don’t know. He just left without a word to me or nothing. Oh, Mum, what am I going to do? I love him so much and I can’t live without him.’
It broke her heart to see her daughter so distressed, and instantly Alice wanted to wring the bloody young man’s neck. However, the last thing her daughter needed in this situation was sympathy, so pulling back her shoulders she said sternly, ‘Now you listen to me. You managed perfectly well before he came along and you’ll get on well enough without him. Look at you, you’re beautiful and can have your pick of any man around here.’
‘But I don’t want any man … I want Robbie. How could he do this to me? I thought he loved me.’
When Alice moved to sit on the bed Dorothy instantly clung to her, and Alice could feel her shaking with grief. The bastard, she seethed, upsetting my girl like this. If she ever got her hands on Robbie Ferguson, she knew she would quite happily swing for him.
Chapter 7
The next morning, when it was time for Dorothy to get up for work, she turned over in bed and then all at once remembered. Robbie was gone. She felt her eyes prick with tears again and rubbed them, feeling how sore and puffy they were.
Dorothy didn’t know what time she’d eventually cried herself to sleep but her body and mind felt exhausted. The last thing she wanted was to go to work, and worst of all she would have to tell people about Robbie whilst the pain was so raw.
Alice quietly tapped on the door and pushed it open. ‘I thought you might like a cup of tea.’
‘Thanks,’ said Dorothy, taking the chipped cup and saucer, but the last thing she wanted was anything to eat or drink. Her stomach was in such a knot that she was bound to throw it straight back up.
‘Oh, Dottie, look at the state of your eyes. You can’t go to work looking like that. I’ll get you a cold flannel to put on them.’
‘All right, but I’d best get a move on or I’ll be late and you know what old Epstein is like if any of us are even a minute overdue,’ Dorothy said. Then she paused. ‘Truth is, I really don’t know if I can face going in today. Can I stay home, please, Mum?’
‘No, I’m sorry, love, we can’t afford for you to lose a day’s pay. I know you’re upset about Robbie, but at the end of the day he’s just a man. Maybe he’ll write to you with some sort of explanation, but if he doesn’t you’ve got to get over him. Weeping about at home won’t do you any good, so buck yourself up and get yourself off to work.’
Dorothy flopped back on the bed. She knew her mum was right, but that didn’t change the fact that she really didn’t want to go in.
Alice came back to the bedroom with a cold flannel. ‘You’re still not dressed?’
‘I can’t do it, Mum. I can’t face it.’
‘You can and you will. Now get yourself up and sorted. Anyhow, Nelly will be there and it’ll be good for you to talk to a friend.’
When Dorothy thought about it she decided that maybe Nelly could shed some light on Robbie’s disappearance. Affectionately known as Nelly the News, her friend always seemed to know about everything that was going on in Battersea.
Soon after, with a heavy heart and swollen eyes, Dorothy traipsed to work and, though she managed to hold herself together, the moment she saw Nelly the hurt within rose again and she broke down. Dorothy felt Nelly’s large arms engulf her, yet they brought little comfort, and the look of sympathy in her friend’s eyes just added to her pain.
‘Dottie, oh, sugar, I’ve heard about Robbie.’
Dorothy pulled away from her friend’s embrace and looked at her imploringly, hoping Nelly would have the answers she so desperately needed. ‘I don’t understand. We were planning on getting married, so why has he run off like this?’
Nelly bit her bottom lip, and as she lowered her eyes Dorothy got the distinct impression that the woman was hiding something. ‘Nelly, you’re supposed to be my friend, so whatever it is you know, please, you have to tell me.’
‘I’ve been hearing things over the last few days, but Dottie, it’s because I’m your friend that I don’t want to tell you. I don’t want to see you hurt.’
‘It’s too late for that,’ Dorothy pleaded. ‘Look at the state of me. I need to know.’
Nelly led Dorothy to a bench at the back of the bakery, her fat sausage fingers wrapped around Dorothy’s hand as she began to speak. ‘There’s been a lot of talk around about Robbie, things you obviously haven’t heard, and to be honest, now he’s gone, I think it’s best you hear the truth. I should have told you ages ago, but you were so happy and I thought that maybe there was a chance he might change his ways.’
Dorothy’s heart was pounding so hard that she thought it might burst out of her chest. Her stomach was in knots again and she held her breath as she waited for Nelly to continue.
‘The thing is, Dot, he’s a womaniser. He’s been putting it about with all and sundry and he’s led you a right merry dance. You know I’ve never liked him and now you know why.’
In her heart Dorothy wasn’t totally surprised as she’d had her suspicions. Yet when she had asked Robbie he’d denied it. What a fool she’d been, falling for his lies. Her mind churned. Or maybe he loved her and had changed, just like Nelly thought he might. Confused, she ran her hands over her face. It was all to
o much; she couldn’t think straight.
‘Robbie asked me to marry him,’ she said slowly, ‘and though I did wonder if he’d been seeing anyone else, he swore that I’m the only one. Maybe he was a womaniser at first, but not now. He loves me. I’m sure he does.’
Nelly was shaking her head. ‘Dottie, I’m sorry, but there’s more and it’s worse. I saw Cynthia yesterday and she told me that Robbie was knocking on her door in the early hours on Sunday morning. She said he was in a right old state, sweating and panting. Once she got him inside he said he was on the run from the coppers ’cos he’d just done a big job, and asked her to hide him for a while. He paid her well, so she put him up until a decent hour, then she went and borrowed her brother’s car to drop him at the train station.’
Dorothy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Robbie doing a ‘big job’? Puzzled, she said, ‘I don’t understand. What was this job?’
‘He robbed some posh jeweller’s over the river.’
Dorothy was finding this all very difficult to take in, but then an idea struck and it suddenly made sense to her. ‘I know why he did it, Nelly. It was to get me a ring. Robbie’s not a bad person and he’s no thief. This is all my fault for putting pressure on him to get me that engagement ring. He did it for me! Oh, Nelly, what have I done?’
Nelly sucked in her breath. ‘But what about spending the night with Cynthia? She’s only got one room and one bed so we know where he slept. Is that your fault too?’
‘Well, if he needed somewhere to hide, everyone knows she’ll do just about anything for money and maybe he was desperate. He must have been so scared.’
