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A Daughter's Courage

Page 29

by Kitty Neale


  ‘Yeah, all right, but whose door?’

  ‘Cynthia’s. Do you know her?’

  ‘Yeah, of course I do, everyone knows Cynthia. I won’t be a tick,’ the man said and disappeared back into the tenement, to return quickly with Cynthia behind him.

  ‘Hello, Robbie,’ she greeted him warmly. ‘I was expecting to see you today at Yvonne’s funeral.’

  ‘I didn’t think I’d be welcome,’ Robbie lied. He’d had no intention of going to the funeral. Why would he? That tart meant nothing to him, nor did her offspring.

  ‘Cynth, I need a chat, but not here on the street. Fancy a gin and tonic?’

  ‘You know me, I never say no to a drink,’ Cynthia answered, smoothing her bouffant hair.

  Once sat in the pub, Robbie supped on his pint. He was bored of the small talk between them, and Cynthia’s prattling, most of it going over his head as he tried to think of a way to tell her what was on his mind without totally alienating her. When there was a pause in her chatter, he said cautiously, ‘I know nothing much shocks you, but what I’m about to say might.’

  ‘Go on, Robbie. I’m intrigued.’

  Robbie leaned in closer to Cynthia and glanced around, ensuring there wasn’t anyone within earshot. ‘I’ve got myself in a bit of bother with Brian again, and I need to pay off the debt or, well, you know what he’ll do to me.’

  ‘I would help if I could, Robbie, but you know I don’t have two pennies to rub together.’

  ‘I don’t want your money. I just need a bit of advice. The thing is, with me stuck in this bloody chair, my options are limited. My brother won’t help, so the only thing I can think of to raise the money is to … err … find a willing buyer for Yvonne’s baby.’

  Robbie looked at Cynthia for her reaction, but she remained pan-faced as she stirred the ice in her drink with her finger. He half expected she might throw it at him, but instead she said quietly, ‘I know a bloke who could help.’

  ‘I knew I could rely on you,’ Robbie said excitedly. ‘How soon can you introduce me?’

  ‘Ain’t you going to ask what he might want the baby for?’

  ‘I don’t give a shit,’ Robbie said, not caring if he sounded callous. ‘She’s a bastard, and the sooner she’s out from under my nose, the better.’

  ‘OK, if you’re sure, but you’ve got to promise that my name will never be mentioned in any of this,’ Cynthia insisted.

  ‘You know me. Mum’s the word,’ Robbie said as he tapped the side of his nose.

  ‘Right then, finish your pint and I’ll take you to Jack’s Yard. You know the place I mean? The scrappy up near the candle factory. I’ll leave you with him and he’ll point you in the right direction. I think, from what Jack once told me, his cousin is the bloke you’ll need to talk to.’

  Robbie gulped his pint, eager to set the wheels in motion. He’d run out of time with Brian, and if he didn’t pay off the loan, he feared the next thing to be broken would be his arms.

  Chapter 54

  The following morning, a Saturday, Dorothy placed Rosie in her pram and pushed it back and forth. This always had the desired effect of getting her off to sleep and would give Dorothy the opportunity to fix her father some breakfast. Pleased when she saw Rosie close her eyes, she hurried upstairs.

  ‘How are you today, Dad?’

  ‘Vonnie …’ he said quietly.

  ‘I know, I miss her too, but why don’t you come downstairs for your breakfast?’

  ‘Vonnie …’ was his same response.

  ‘Come on, Dad,’ Dottie urged. ‘You don’t want to stay up here all day. Come downstairs and when Rosie wakes up you can hold her. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

  Though she hoped to get some reaction, there was still none. Since Yvonne’s death her father had hardly said two words, and she wished she could work the same magic on him as Yvonne had.

  He got out of bed to shuffle to the bathroom, and Dorothy was thankful that he still carried out this part of his morning routine. Though she knew that her father was physically in good health, she stood outside the bathroom as he ran a flannel over his face. He turned and looked at her with an angry expression.

  ‘Go … do it myself …’ he said, grumpily.

  Dorothy rolled her eyes but appeased him by walking away. She knew he was more than capable of washing himself, but as he was a bit unstable on his legs, she liked to make sure he didn’t fall over. She stood outside Yvonne’s room; since that fateful morning she hadn’t been able to face going in there. Slowly, she pushed the door open to see the bed freshly made up, with no evidence of the tragedy that had taken place. Adrian must have done it and once again she was touched by his thoughtfulness. There were no ghosts, just painful memories as Dottie walked into the room, but as her eyes went to the bed she felt a sudden wave of nausea. Unwanted memories of seeing blood and Yvonne’s lifeless body filled her mind and with a hand over her mouth she fled the room as another wave of nausea struck. Thankful to see her father heading back to his room, she dashed to the toilet and was violently sick. With perspiration beading her forehead, Dorothy splashed cold water on her face, vowing that it would be a long time before she’d risk going into Yvonne’s room again.

  As Robbie left Jack’s Yard, he grinned to himself, satisfied with the sizable sum Jack’s cousin Pete had offered in exchange for the child. Of course, Pete had assured Robbie of his utmost discretion, so now all Robbie had to do was get his hands on the baby.

  He’d heard through Cynthia that Sid, his old partner in crime, had recently been released from prison, and, realising he’d need help to execute his plan, he’d popped a note through Sid’s door.

  Later that evening, Robbie went into the pub, eager to put his idea into action. He hoped Sid would turn up, as he couldn’t think of anyone else he would trust to keep their mouth shut.

  As he waited at the bar for his drink, the door opened again and Robbie was pleased to see Sid walk in and make a beeline for him. Robbie eyed the scruffy-looking man as he approached. A three-year stretch hadn’t changed Sid: he still looked just as wormy as he did back then. They greeted each other with little enthusiasm, picked up their pints and made their way to a quiet booth.

  ‘Let’s get down to business,’ Robbie said.

  ‘Is this going to be a nice little earner?’ asked Sid.

  ‘It could be, Sidney, but it’s a bit delicate, and, well, I’m not sure I can trust you.’

  ‘You know me and of course you can. I helped you with that whisky heist off your brother, and you know I kept shtum about it. Come on, mate, you know I’ve only just got out so I really need the cash, Robbie. Let me do it, whatever it is.’

  ‘OK, but you’d better not let me down.’

  ‘I won’t. You can count on me.’

  ‘All right, I’ll give you the chance, Sid, but not a word to anyone.’

  ‘Yeah, don’t worry, I’ve never said a word to anyone before, have I?’ Sidney replied.

  Robbie agreed, Sid had never grassed him up on his part in the robbery. It had been four years ago. Robbie had known the details of a large haul of premium whisky Adrian was transporting, and he and Sid had pinched the lot and made good money. Sid wasn’t as bright as Robbie and eventually got caught trying to sell off some of his share of the whisky to one of Adrian’s best customers. For some reason unknown to Robbie, Sid confessed to the whole crime, leaving Robbie out of it. The man’s misplaced loyalty was the reason Robbie felt he could trust him now. He knew at the time that Adrian had suspicions of his involvement, but, with Sid keeping quiet, nothing could be proved, so Robbie had got away with it while Sid had served his time.

  Robbie began to explain to Sidney the details of what he wanted the man to do, and was pleased to see Sid didn’t seem at all daunted by the idea.

  ‘So let me get this straight, Robbie. You’re gonna be out on Monday, but before you go you’ll unlock the back door. You want me to sneak in, grab the baby and keep her overnight. What then?’
r />   ‘I’ll meet up with you the following morning.’

  ‘But what if that sister-in-law of yours finds me in the house?’

  ‘She won’t. I told you, I’ve been watching her movements and she’s like clockwork. At nine o’clock every morning, she always puts the baby in its pram and then goes upstairs to sort her father out. What you’re going to do will only take a couple of minutes and you’ll be in and out before she comes back downstairs.’

  ‘Yeah, OK, but how the bloody hell do you think I’m going to be able to look after a baby all day and overnight?’

  ‘You won’t have to do much. Just leave her in a drawer or something. She’ll be fine. She might cry a bit, but no one will hear her at your place.’

  ‘I bleedin’ will.’

  ‘Well, give her a bit of gin or something, that’ll knock her out.’

  ‘I don’t get this, Robbie … why have I got to kidnap the baby for you? If you want her, surely you can just take her. After all, you said she’s yours.’

  ‘I don’t want the bastard … but I know a man who does. That kid is worth a packet to me, and if you don’t fuck this up you’ll get your share.’

  Sid clapped his hands together, before spitting into one palm and offering it to Robbie to shake. ‘Deal,’ he said.

  Robbie declined the handshake but picked up his pint and repeated, ‘Deal.’

  Chapter 55

  As Dorothy prepared her dad’s breakfast on Monday morning, she was surprised to see Robbie’s bedroom door open and him nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t like Robbie to be up and out so early, and she breathed a sigh of relief, instantly relaxing. Her nerves always jangled less when Robbie wasn’t in the house.

  She poured warm milk over Bill’s porridge oats and tapped her foot as she waited for the kettle to boil. Rosie had been running a slight fever and had kept Dottie up for most of the night, but thankfully the baby now seemed more settled. Adrian must have realised she’d had a restless night, so she guessed he had sneaked out to work quietly and allowed her to sleep in. The only problem with having a bit of a lie-in was Bill’s mood. She was running late and knew her dad would soon become tetchy if his usual routine was disturbed.

  Finally, the kettle whistled and Dottie poured boiling water into the teapot. As she turned to place the kettle back on the stove, something in the back garden caught her eye. She leaned towards the window and peered out, sure she had seen movement.

  Then she gasped and stepped back with her hands over her mouth as she saw a short, thin man slowly mincing up the garden path. He looked very suspicious as he weaved his way in and out behind the shrubs and trees, obviously trying not to be seen.

  In a blind panic, Dorothy ran from the kitchen and up the stairs. She had to protect Rosie. She gathered the sleeping child from her cot and raced back to the top of the stairs, holding the baby protectively to her. From here, she had a vantage point, though now she wished she had picked up the phone and called Adrian.

  She stood silent, holding her breath and willing Rosie to stay asleep. The house was so quiet, she could hear her heart hammering in her chest. Her mind raced. She hadn’t checked the back door. Was it locked? What if the man got into the house?

  Hardly daring to move, Dorothy craned her neck in a futile bid to look along the downstairs hallway. It was no good, she couldn’t see further than the telephone table. Daringly, with her back against the wall, she took one step down. If she could get to the telephone, she’d call the police.

  Then, to her horror, Dorothy heard the distinct sound of the hinge on the back door squeaking. Before now, Adrian had mentioned oiling it but she was glad he hadn’t, as now she knew for sure that there was an intruder in the house.

  She froze in fear, but could feel her body trembling.

  From her viewpoint at the top of the stairs, she saw the top of the man’s head as he crept along the hallway. She couldn’t believe he was in her house, but she didn’t want to scream and scare Rosie or her father.

  Thinking quickly, Dorothy took a deep breath and tried to make her voice sound deep and booming as she called, ‘Get out of my house!’ She hoped she didn’t sound as scared as she felt.

  The man was near the bottom of the stairs and turned to look at Dorothy. She thought he looked as surprised to see her as she did him. For a fleeting moment, their eyes met, and Dorothy thought he might run up the stairs to attack her, but instead he turned and fled, leaving her relieved but still shaking in fear.

  Slowly and cautiously, she made her way down the stairs. She couldn’t be sure he had left the house; he could pounce on her at any moment. She sidled up to the telephone table in the hallway and dialled Adrian’s number in the office.

  ‘Dottie, good morning, sweetheart,’ she heard Adrian say. The sound of his voice felt so soothing and reassuring, Dorothy found herself in tears and unable to speak.

  ‘Dottie … what’s wrong?’ Adrian asked.

  She drew in a long, juddering breath, ‘There was a man in the house,’ she managed to cry.

  ‘Take Rosie into Bill’s room, shut the door and stay there. I’ll be straight home.’

  Dottie heard the line go dead as Adrian hung up. She held the telephone in her hand as she gathered her thoughts, then quickly followed Adrian’s instructions.

  Bill was sitting up in bed, oblivious to the fright Dorothy had just had.

  ‘Tea time,’ he said, smiling.

  ‘In a minute, Dad. I thought you might like a cuddle with Rosie first,’ Dorothy said, as she placed the sleeping baby in Bill’s arms.

  Dorothy stood against the bedroom door, inconspicuously leaning hard against it. She flashed her father a fake smile, relieved to see him in a good mood and unaware of the uninvited house guest.

  ‘Rosie sleeping, bad night,’ Bill said. ‘Yes, Dad, she was a bit poorly but she’s much better this morning. She loves her cuddles with Grandad. Let’s be really quiet so we don’t wake her.’

  ‘Grandad …’ Bill said, and smiled down sweetly at the child.

  Dottie strained her ears, listening for any movement in the house, and wished she could hear Adrian’s car pulling up. It felt like she’d been stood there for ages when she eventually heard the rumble of a car engine.

  She could hear footsteps pounding up the stairs, and pushed harder against the door. What if it wasn’t Adrian?

  ‘Dottie, it’s me.’ Her body slumped with relief at the sound of his voice. She opened the door and fell into her husband’s arms.

  ‘It’s all right, love,’ he said, as he held her shaking body.

  ‘Oh, Adrian, I was so scared. I saw him coming up the garden, and panicked. I didn’t even think to check if the back door was locked, I just made a dash up the stairs to get Rosie. The next thing I know, he was stood at the bottom in the hallway as bold as brass!’

  ‘You stay here, I’ll check he’s definitely gone,’ Adrian said.

  Dottie nodded, and watched with trepidation as Adrian went downstairs.

  He soon returned. ‘All clear. Come on, you look like you need a cup of sweet tea.’

  Dottie looked at Bill, who appeared to be very content with Rosie, and followed her husband downstairs.

  ‘Had you unlocked the back door this morning?’ Adrian asked as he came into the lounge with two cups of tea.

  ‘No, to be honest, I haven’t been up long.’

  ‘Robbie must have then. I always check it at night, so I know it was locked. But why would Robbie do that? He never goes out there. Where is he?’

  ‘I don’t know, he was gone when I got up,’ Dottie answered.

  ‘Did you get a look at the man?’

  ‘I did, but I didn’t recognise him. He was short and thin, with dark, dirty hair and very tatty clothes. What do you think he was after?’

  ‘Probably just a vagrant chancing his luck. I’ll call in to the police station on my way back to the office and let them know what’s happened. They’ll keep an eye out. If he didn’t get anything from here, he
might have tried some other houses in the area.’

  ‘Oh, Adrian, he might still be in the street! You need to call the police now, and check on Mrs Hart.’

  ‘It’s all right, Dottie, calm down. He won’t be anywhere around here, not now he knows he’s been seen. He would have scarpered as far away from here as possible.’

  Dottie could feel her heart pounding again. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, I’m more than sure, so don’t worry. I’ll pop next door and have a word with Mrs Hart now. Are you OK?’

  ‘Yes, I’m fine. It was a bit of a shock, but you’re probably right, he’ll be well away by now.’

  Adrian went next door whilst Dottie drained the last of her tea. Well, that was an eventful morning, she thought, and wondered what her mother would have made of it. The streets she’d grown up in might not have been as fancy as these ones, but you could usually leave your back door open and still feel safe. She could understand why Alice had never wanted to leave the slums. They didn’t have much, but they did offer a sense of community, and though Dottie enjoyed the luxuries of her grand home, it was at times like this that she missed her old place.

  After ensuring Dottie felt secure enough to be left alone, Adrian drove back to his office. He hadn’t let on to his wife, but he was sure there was more to the break-in than met the eye. It was all a bit coincidental – the back door being unlocked and Robbie being out of the house that early.

  He couldn’t gauge what was going on, but had a niggling feeling his brother was behind it. It wouldn’t be the first time Robbie had stolen from them, if that was the man’s intention. Alice’s ring and his Rolex were never recovered, and, though Robbie denied it, Adrian knew his brother was responsible for the theft. Then there was the whisky heist. Robbie would have been the only person who knew about the cargo, but yet again, though Adrian had known Robbie was involved, his brother had got away with his crimes.

  Robbie had shown he had no scruples, yet Adrian found it hard to accept that his own flesh and blood would send a strange man into the house, knowingly putting his daughter, Dottie and an ill old man at risk.

 

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