A Cuckoo in Candle Lane

by Kitty Neale

  ‘Ruth, don’t talk to her like that. It ain’t the child’s fault,’ Sadie admonished.

  ‘I know that, Mum. But I’m just so bleedin’ angry.’

  Sally sat up reluctantly, cuffed her wet face on the sleeve of her cardigan, and dragged her legs over the side of the bed, too frightened to look at her mum.

  ‘Listen, ducks,’ her gran said, as she lifted Sally’s chin with her forefinger and gazed into her eyes. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong and I want you to remember that.’ She then gave her a quick hug. ‘Bye for now, sweetheart, and don’t you worry. I’ll see you soon, I promise.’

  As they went downstairs Sally saw her mum glaring icily at auntie Mary as they passed her in the hall. She had a brief glimpse of her uncle, still sitting in the chair, and then they were outside, her mum slamming the door behind them.

  She ran and stumbled, dragged up the street as her mother’s heels beat an impatient tattoo on the pavement.

  ‘For Christ’s sake, Sally, will you move yerself. Your dad will go mad if I don’t get something for his dinner and I haven’t done any shopping yet.’

  In a daze Sally was hauled onto a bus where she huddled as far away from her mother as possible, gazing miserably out of the window. She shifted uncomfortably, sore from where her uncle’s fingers had probed. Why had he touched her like that? He said he loved her, but he had hurt her, frightened her.

  As they passed over the railway bridge at Clapham Junction a train chugged through the tunnel beneath them, belching out a cloud of smoke that momentarily engulfed the bus, giving the illusion of time suspending for a few seconds. Sally turned as the mist cleared, finding her mum glaring at her, tight-lipped.

  ‘Move yourself,’ she snapped. ‘We’re getting off here.’

  Startled, Sally lurched down the aisle, and as they got off the bus the police station loomed into view. Her breath caught in her throat and she dragged her heels as they drew near to the entrance. ‘Mum, please don’t take me in there,’ she begged, frantically trying to pull out of her grasp. ‘I’m sorry. I won’t sit on me uncle’s lap again – honest, I won’t.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Sally, what on earth’s the matter with you! Take you in where? We’re going to the shops, that’s all.’

  Her body slumped with relief. ‘I … I thought you was taking me to the police.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, why would I do that? Now come on, I must get some shopping.’

  ‘But you told gran you were going to the police station.’

  ‘Well I’m not, so just shut up about it.’

  They dashed from shop to shop. The greengrocer’s, the butcher’s, then the baker’s, her mum grumbling about the prices as her bags gradually filled, until at last they were on their way home.

  Sally stood behind her mother, watching as she opened the front door. Stepping inside, Ruth turned swiftly, her fingers to her lips as she pointed to the coat-rack.

  ‘Quick, Sal,’ she hissed. ‘Go upstairs, yer dad’s home.’

  Ken looked up in surprise when the kitchen door opened and Ruth stumbled in, looking pale and agitated. She dropped two full bags of shopping on the floor, dragged out a chair and sat with her elbows on the table, head buried in her hands.

  ‘Ken, something terrible happened at Mary’s,’ she groaned.

  ‘Oh yeah? Something’s happened to your stuck-up sister, has it? Oh, my heart bleeds,’ he sneered sarcastically.

  ‘Please, Ken, please don’t be nasty,’ she begged, bursting into a torrent of tears. ‘I just can’t take any more.’ Shaking violently as reaction set in, she sobbed, ‘It … it was H-Harry, he was trying it on with Sally. I … I caught him with his hands up her skirt.’

  ‘What!’ he exclaimed, flabbergasted by Ruth’s words. Bloody hell – fancy Harry being a nonce. His thoughts raced. Part of him was disgusted, and yet another part was wondering how he could turn this to his advantage.

  ‘I wanna report it to the police, Ken, but I’m worried about Sally. Will they make her give evidence in court?’

  ‘Why ask me, how would I know?’ he answered irritably, rubbing the back of his neck, his mind turning over the possibilities. He was desperate for some extra cash and might be able to use this knowledge to get some money out of Harry, but that would mean keeping the police out of it. I’ll have to play for time, he thought. String Ruth along until I can think things through.

  Feigning concern he walked across to the table, and standing behind his wife, he placed his hands on her shoulders, massaging them gently. ‘Come on, love, you can’t make any decisions while you’re in this state. Why don’t we talk about it again tomorrow when you’ve calmed down a bit. I tell you what, don’t bother to cook anything, I’ll pop down the road and get us some fish and chips.’

  Ruth looked at him gratefully through her tears. ‘Oh Ken, thanks ever so much.’ She grabbed her handbag, fumbling for her purse. ‘Here, I’ll give you the money.’

  ‘No, it’s all right. I’ll treat yer,’ he said, hiding a smirk at her look of amazement.

  He reached the chip shop, rebuking himself for offering to pay. Money was a bit tight at the moment because Barbara was costing him a fortune. His groin stirred as he remembered the previous night. God, she had been insatiable, and he couldn’t wait to see her again. Blimey, it was lucky that Ruth was such a gullible twit. She had swallowed it without question when he told her he was taking on long-distance deliveries. He chuckled – it had been a great idea coming up with that one and it gave him the perfect excuse for his nights spent with Barbara.

  ‘Cod and chips twice,’ he ordered, reaching the front of the queue. He wasn’t getting anything for the brat, she could share her mother’s portion.

  Chapter Eight

  Barbara stood in front of the mirror putting the finishing touches to her make-up. Hmm, not bad, she thought, smoothing her platinum-blonde hair into a sleek bob, but me roots could do with a touch-up. She bared her teeth to check they weren’t smudged with lipstick, then turned her head at an angle, imitating a seductive pout. Yeah, she thought happily, remembering what one of the regulars in the pub had remarked. I do look a bit like Diana Dors.

  Her eyes flicked to the clock and she grimaced. It was nearly time to start her Sunday lunchtime shift. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked at the backs of her legs, pleased to see that her stocking seams were straight, and then ran a cursory glance around the room.

  Not much longer, she thought, and I’ll be out of this dump, with Ken as my meal ticket. Her brightly painted lips curved into a smile as she pictured his dark, gypsy looks. She fancied him rotten, and that was a bonus after some of the sleazy gits she had put up with during the last few years.

  Time was running out though; her last boyfriend was due out of prison in three months. He was a nasty piece of work, and she wanted to be away from Balham before his release. I’ll just have to push Ken a bit harder, she thought.

  It was nearly one o’clock before Ken turned up at the pub, and her eyes widened as he approached the bar. There was an air of suppressed excitement about him and his dark eyes sparkled with mischief.

  ‘Give us a pint, Babs, and ’ave a drink yourself,’ he grinned, giving her a cheeky wink.

  ‘You’re looking pleased with yourself. Come up on the Pools, ’ave you?’

  ‘No, but something else has turned up, and if things go well, we could be away soon.’

  Her heart skipped a beat. ‘Oh Ken, do you really mean it?’

  ‘Oi, Babs, how about serving down here? That’s if you can tear yourself away from Lover Boy,’ a customer shouted.

  ‘Sorry, darling,’ she whispered. ‘Back in a minute. Yeah, what can I get you?’ she asked the customer impatiently, barely giving him a glance.

  ‘I’ll ’ave a pint of me usual, and you’d better watch your step if you don’t want yer pretty face ruined.’

  ‘What did you say? Are you threatening me?’

  ‘Oh, ain’t you heard the news? It’s not like you to miss
out on the grapevine, Babs.’ He grinned maliciously. ‘No, it ain’t me you’ve got to worry about. Your bloke’s been paroled. He’s due out next week, and from what I’ve heard, he don’t like his birds playing fast and loose with him.’

  Barbara’s fingers tightened involuntarily on the glass as she forced her mouth into a smile. ‘Yeah, of course I’ve heard,’ she lied. ‘Here you are, one pint of bitter, that’ll be one and tuppence, please.’ Snatching his money, she threw it into the till, then with her head held high and trying to look unconcerned, she rejoined Ken at the other end of the bar.

  ‘You look a bit pale. Was that bloke giving you stick?’ he asked.

  ‘No, it’s all right, I can handle the likes of him. I’m just a bit tired, that’s all. Thank God me shift’s nearly over. You are coming back to my place, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, of course I am, and I’ve got something to tell you, but I don’t want to talk about it in here.’

  Barbara’s right, Ken thought, as he hurried to Mary’s house. She had told him to strike while the iron was hot, pointing out that even though he’d persuaded Ruth not to go to the police, she might change her mind.

  ‘I wanna see Harry,’ he demanded when Mary answered his knock, staring at him in panic.

  ‘You had better come in,’ she said, her voice trembling.

  ‘No, I ain’t coming in. Get him out here – and now!’ he shouted when he saw her hesitate.

  ‘All right, I’m here,’ Harry said, appearing in the doorway. ‘Mary, go inside. It would be better if you leave us alone,’ he urged.

  Ken smirked. ‘Yeah, off you go, love. This might be a bit delicate for your sensitive ears. Now come on, Harry, get yer coat on. You and me are going for a little walk.’

  ‘Please, Ken. Please don’t hurt him,’ Mary begged.

  ‘It’s all right, dear,’ Harry said, pushing her gently inside and grabbing his coat from the hallstand. ‘I won’t be long.’

  As they walked along side by side, Ken decided to keep quiet until they reached Tooting Common; it would build up the tension to let Harry sweat for a while.

  The street was deserted, the sky grey with a hint of rain in the air as they reached the Common. Ken walked across the damp grass to sit on the nearest bench, glancing around to make sure nobody was in earshot. ‘So, what ’ave you got to say for yourself?’ he demanded.

  Harry sat down beside him, saying earnestly, ‘Ken, listen, this whole thing has been blown up out of all proportion. I think the world of Sally and I was just giving her a little cuddle.’

  ‘Don’t give me that! From what Ruth told me, it was more than a cuddle … Anyway,’ he added, turning the screw, ‘she’s going to report it to the police.’

  Harry turned, his expression agonised. ‘To tell you the truth, I’ve been expecting them. Mary and I hardly slept a wink last night and I’m surprised that they haven’t been round already.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got me to thank for that. Ruth was in such a state that I persuaded her to wait until today.’

  ‘Please, Ken, think about the effect it will have on Mary, and Sadie. Can’t you do something to stop her?’

  ‘If you was only giving Sally a cuddle, why are you so worried? No, don’t bother to deny it again Harry.’ He smiled sardonically, adding, ‘However, there may be a way to keep the police out of it.’

  ‘How? Just name it, I’ll do anything,’ Harry said eagerly.

  Ken folded his arms and leaned back nonchalantly, his legs stretched out. ‘Well now, let me see … what’s it worth to keep Ruth quiet?’

  ‘Money!’ Harry looked at him in disgust. ‘You want money?’

  ‘Don’t look at me as if I’m something that crawled out from under a stone. After all, it ain’t me that fancies little girls. Yeah, they love your sort in the nick,’ he threatened.

  ‘Oh God!’ Harry buried his face in his hands, his voice muffled as he finally said, ‘All right, how much do you want?’

  Ken smiled – before going in for the kill.

  Meanwhile, Barbara lounged on her bed, waiting anxiously for Ken to return. If it worked and he managed to get some money out of his brother-in-law, her troubles would be over. Less than a week, she thought, that’s all the time I’ve got left to get out of this area. She reached across to the bedside table and picked up her nail varnish. Come on, come on, hurry up, Ken, she thought impatiently, as she painted another coat of bright red varnish on top of the old one.

  At last there was a knock on her door and she jumped off the bed excitedly, rushing across the room to open it. Ken stood on the threshold, a wide smile on his face.

  ‘It worked, Babs. I’m getting five hundred quid out of him.’

  ‘Oh Ken, you’re wonderful,’ she cried, throwing herself into his arms. I’ve only got to persuade him that we need to leave straight away, she thought, and I’m home and dry. ‘Well done,’ she crooned, rubbing against him suggestively. ‘Oh, I can’t wait for us to be together all the time. Can we go as soon as you get the money?’

  He kicked the door shut with his heel, tightening his arms around her and nibbling her earlobe as he mumbled, ‘What’s the rush? I might be able to bleed some more out of him later.’

  ‘Well, there is that, I suppose,’ she said, thinking frantically. ‘But it could be a bit risky, darling. What if Ruth still decides to go to the police? Harry’s bound to tell them you’ve been blackmailing him.’

  He stiffened, stepping back abruptly. ‘Christ, you may be right. Look, I can’t stay the night now. I’ll ’ave to go home and make sure Ruth keeps her mouth shut.’ He paused, brow furrowed in thought. ‘All right, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll pack me gear tonight and take it with me when I meet Harry at his bank in the morning. Then, once I’ve got the money, I’ll meet you at Clapham Junction Station and we can leave straight away.’

  ‘Yeah, all right, Ken. What time will you be there?’

  ‘Let’s say at around eleven o’clock.’

  ‘Ken, we ain’t decided where we’re going yet,’ Barbara reminded him. ‘Where do you fancy?’

  ‘I dunno, I ain’t given it a lot of thought. North or South, Babs? It’s up to you.’

  She closed her eyes momentarily. South … no, that would be too obvious. North would be better; nobody would expect them to head in that direction. ‘How about Blackpool, Ken? I’ve always fancied going there.’

  ‘Whatever you say, love. We can always move on if we don’t like it.’

  She smiled in satisfaction, he was so easy to manipulate and pushing her way back into his arms, she husked, ‘Eleven o’clock at the Junction. I’ll be waiting, darling.’ She began to grind her hips, pushing herself closer and closer, feeling him stir and harden against her.

  ‘Oh Barbara,’ he groaned, picking her up and crossing to the bed, his eyes dark with lust.

  Their lovemaking had been passionate, and now Barbara lounged satiated against the headboard, one arm thrown back supporting her head, and deep in thought. Ken was getting five hundred quid from Harry, but would it be enough? She had always wanted to live by the sea and dreamed of having a little bed and breakfast place of her own, but until Ken mentioned his scam that was all it had been – a dream.

  She thought about the King’s Head and the years spent grafting behind the bar. The landlord was a lazy bugger, leaving her to do most of the work and only showing his face when she wanted a barrel changed. He even left her to do the cashing up after every shift, trusting her to put the money in the safe, and just checking it before paying it into the bank every week.

  An idea began to form and she narrowed her eyes. It was no more than the lazy git deserved; after all, she was the one who did all the work.

  Chapter Nine

  Sally awoke to the sound of raised and angry voices.

  She stumbled sleepily out of bed, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles as she crept nervously onto the landing, listening to the row downstairs.

  ‘No, Ken, no! You can’t leave me!’


  ‘Get out of my way, you silly bitch.’

  ‘No I won’t, you can’t go!’

  ‘Move, Ruth. I won’t tell you again.’

  There was a scream, followed by a scuffle, and her dad appeared in the kitchen doorway, carrying a suitcase in each hand. Sally ducked down, terrified he would see her.

  She peeped over the banisters again, just in time to see her mum grabbing his arm, her face twisted in anguish.

  ‘No, no, please don’t leave me!’ she cried. ‘What will I do without you? Please, Ken, why are you going? What ’ave I done?’

  ‘Done! You ask me what you’ve done?’ he spat. ‘’Ave you looked in the mirror lately? You’re a bleeding mess. But worst of all you landed me with a cuckoo in the nest and I’m sick to death of the pair of you.’

  He jerked his arm violently, trying to loosen her grip. ‘As for what you’ll do without me, you can get yourself a job or sell your body – though looking at the state of you there won’t be many customers,’ he said cruelly. ‘Now, let go of me arm, or you’ll be sorry.’

  Sally watched anxiously as they tussled together. Her mum was hanging on desperately, refusing to let go. ‘Get off me, or I’ll smash yer bloody face in!’ he yelled.

  To Sally, her dad suddenly took on the form of the devil. His face, contorted in anger, looked dark and evil. He was going to hit her mum again – she had to stop him!

  A surge of anger and hate suddenly catapulted her down the stairs and she flew across the hall. ‘Leave her alone, you bully!’ she yelled, running up and kicking him, feeling agonising pain as her bare foot connected with his shin. His arm came up, and the last thing she remembered before blackness descended, was the feeling of flying through the air.

  Ruth stood paralysed, looking at her daughter lying crumpled on the floor; her eyes still filled with the sight of Ken lashing out at Sally before he slammed out of the door. Oh, my God, she thought, she’s dead, he’s killed her! What sort of mother am I? Why didn’t I protect her? Oh my baby – my beautiful baby. She slumped down onto the floor, reaching out to touch Sally’s face. It felt cold, so cold.