The Woman From Heartbreak House

by Freda Lightfoot

  ‘Georgie would never do such a thing.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know what it was, I really don’t.’

  Aunt Vera said, ‘This puts an entirely different complexion on matters. You said nothing to us about any label, Kate. Or any threats! Oh, my word, how dreadful!’

  ‘Can I see it, this label?’ the constable asked.

  ‘I threw it away. Burnt it. The rat too.’

  Lucy let out a quiet sigh. ‘So you have absolutely no proof of this apparent threat upon your life?’

  Kate saw her mistake at once. ‘N-No, but then Flora was sick, and she never is. She’s such a healthy child. Someone could have tampered with her food. That’s why I don’t want any poison around the place.’

  The constable was aghast, this was a long way from a simple infestation of vermin. ‘You imagine someone is trying to poison your daughter? By heck, that’s coming it a bit thick, if you don’t mind me saying so, ma’am. Have you the proof to make such an accusation?’

  Kate was almost in tears, heartily wishing she’d kept her mouth shut, or disposed of the second rat without telling a soul. She felt duty bound to explain, wishing Callum were present to support her. ‘My husband was killed in an accident just a few months ago, or at least we think it was an accident, although you can’t find the car and ... Oh, I don’t know.’ She caught Lucy’s eye again and felt herself shrivel inside.

  But the constable had remembered the broken headlamp and the damaged wing on the Austin. ‘I seem to recall being asked to investigate a suspicious motor on these very premises, but I found nothing untoward at all. Did you call in the police on that occasion too?’

  ‘No, of course I didn’t.’

  ‘Did you imagine you saw a damaged motor in the garage, or dreamed up that label?’

  ‘No!’

  Lucy interrupted. ‘I must apologise for my sister-in-law. She has not been herself since the death of her husband, as you can imagine. Quite out of her mind at times with grief, I shouldn’t wonder.’

  Both of the aunts were nodding sagely.

  ‘I can well believe it, ma’am, certainly I can. Terrible thing to lose a loved one, and in such a dreadful manner. It can quite knock you off yer perch like. Plays weird tricks with the mind, does mourning.’

  ‘Quite, and children are often sick, are they not? Flora had a tummy upset, nothing more.’

  Constable Brown conceded this with a sad shake of his head. ‘Mine are allus ailing with summat or other.’ He turned to Kate with a sympathetic smile. ‘I should put all this business out of yer mind, if I were you, ma’am. And I’ll get that chap in to mek sure you get no more rats bothering you.’

  Perversely, Kate now became desperate for him to believe that it really was deliberate. She wasn’t going out of her mind, she said, these things did indeed happen. The constable was nodding agreeably at her, but all the while edging away. ‘Please don’t listen to Lucy, she’d say anything. Didn’t she once abduct me own child?’

  Constable Brown’s jaw dropped yet again. ‘Abducted your child! What, little Flora?’ First an alleged murder, then a death threat and poisoning, now an abduction. Whatever next? He was beginning to see that the sister-in-law might well have a point. This woman was deranged.

  ‘No, Callum. It was a long time ago, when he was small. We did report it at the time, when he first went missing. We searched for years, but I didn’t know then what had happened to him.’

  ‘Oh, aye, I do remember summat about a child going missing in Kendal. Turned up though, didn’t he? Went walkabout, I expect, and got himself lost, as children do.’

  ‘No, no! He was abducted, I tell you.’

  The constable kept his face entirely bland, his tone patient. ‘And when you discovered that he’d been abducted and not got lost at all, did you report your findings to the police?’

  A momentary hesitation. ‘Well, no, I – I didn’t think it appropriate at the time.’

  ‘Why was that exactly?’

  Again Kate felt trapped, as if she’d led herself into a quagmire into which she was sinking fast. ‘We decided it was best not to make a fuss. Wouldn’t it have meant a dreadful scandal? And with Eliot away in the war, sure it would only have upset him. We thought we could handle it ourselves. Keep it in the family.’

  ‘Keep it in the family? An abduction? I see.’ The policeman was frowning at her, and Kate could tell that he didn’t see at all, and who could blame him? ‘So you decided against bringing proper charges. Was this, do you think, because you didn’t have sufficient evidence? Since the lad had come to no harm, apparently.’

  ‘None whatsoever,’ interrupted Lucy. ‘You really must take no heed of my sister-in-law’s somewhat wild accusations. As I say, she’s not quite herself at the moment. I believe finding the rat has upset her more than we appreciate, and right now she is badly in need of rest, if you wouldn’t mind leaving.’

  ‘Aye, I reckon that’d be for t’best.’

  Kate tried again, her voice rising in pitch as she grew more desperate to make him believe her. ‘But she hurt Flora too. Beat her and made her eat eggs and ...’

  ‘Aye, right. Eggs, well yes. Nasty things, eggs. Don’t care for them much meself.’ He was backing away, anxiety to escape speeding his steps.

  Kate could see it was hopeless. He didn’t believe a word she said and Lucy was leading him out, showing him the door. Aunt Cissie was saying something about asking Mrs Petty to fetch Kate a nice, soothing cup of tea, and in no time at all, she found herself hustled upstairs and put back to bed, like a naughty child, or as if she were an invalid and not a right thinking woman at all.

  Chapter Four

  Callum tried everything he could think of to lift his mother from the resulting depression into which she seemed to be sinking further with every day that passed. Her work at the factory had once been so important to her, now she was turning into an over-zealous mother, rarely allowing Flora out of her sight. Kate walked her to school, collected her again on the dot of four, spent every hour she possibly could with her, even fussing over what she ate, insisting on tasting everything herself first. She wouldn’t even allow her to go to the bathroom alone, all of which Flora found utterly demeaning and restricting.

  ‘Will you tell Mammy to stop worrying about me, Callum? I’m better now. And I’m too big to be molly-coddled.’

  ‘I know you are, pet. It’s just that Mam has not been herself lately. I’ll talk to her.’ Callum said nothing to Flora about the saga of the rats, which he considered unsuitable information for a child, but he was deeply concerned about the whole episode.

  The matter had apparently developed into a ding-dong row between Lucy and the aunts, though what exactly had been said on the subject he couldn’t be entirely sure. He only had Mrs Petty’s garbled version of events but Lucy seemed to think they’d deliberately kept it a secret from her.

  She wasn’t the only one to be annoyed by being kept out of the picture. Callum had felt sick to his stomach when he’d learned what had happened, and tackled his mother on the subject.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me about the rat, not to mention this dratted label? Where is it?’

  ‘I burnt it, like I told the constable. I couldn’t bear having it in the house. It made me feel all funny inside.’

  ‘That was a stupid thing to do. Haven’t we been seeking proof that someone is trying to hurt you? Now you find some and throw it away.’

  ‘But it was probably nothing more than a ...’

  ‘Don’t call it a prank, not again.’ Mother and son came closer to falling out in that moment than they ever had before.

  ‘Lucy thinks I’m suffering from paranoia.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. You’ve just supplied her with the evidence.’ Callum’s heart sank as he saw the tears start to flow and silently run down her cheeks. His mother was the bravest woman he knew, not the sort to give in to tears unless she was deeply troubled. He put his arms about her. ‘Don’t cry, Mam, I’ll sort it. And at
least you don’t have to worry about our Flora. She’s as lively as a cricket.’

  It was Flora herself who came up with the solution.

  ‘Mammy, Aunt Vera says a change of air would do you so much good. A blast of fresh air cures the blues, she says.’

  Kate managed a smile. ‘And where does Vera reckon I should seek this magical cure?’

  Flora screwed up her snub nose. ‘She suggested Harrogate, but I’d like to go somewhere more exciting, like Torquay, or Blackpool. Sea air is so much better for you, don’t you think, Mammy?’

  ‘I’m sure it is m’darlin’, but I’m not really in the mood for a holiday. Wouldn’t I rather stay in me own home?’

  Flora considered this with all seriousness. ‘Callum and me could come with you, to look after you.’

  ‘Callum and I. And what about school?’

  ‘I could ask for a week off. You could send a note. I just want you to get well again, Mammy. And it might be fun, just the three of us. We’d be very good, wouldn’t we, Callum? I can’t remember the last time I made sand pies or went paddling. It must be a whole year because we didn’t go anywhere exciting at all this summer.’

  And that was what did it. Kate actually laughed out loud at this remark, then planted a kiss on her daughter’s brow. ‘Sure and we can’t have that, now can we? A whole year and no sand pies. And you’re absolutely right, m’darlin’. We’ve not done anything exciting at all this summer. Goodness me, what a shocking thing. I’m neglecting me own children, so I am.’

  If she couldn’t stir herself for her own sake, she would do it for her child, and where safer than away at the seaside? Wouldn’t it do darling Flora good too?

  Callum damped down a burst of jealousy that it was Flora who had succeeded in bringing this smile to her mother’s face, and not him. But he was glad that something had raised Kate from the abyss, because the aunts were right. A change of air would do her the world of good.

  But he declined to join them. ‘We’re rushed off our feet at work. I’ll keep an eye on things here, Mam.’

  She understood instantly what he was saying, nodded and then kissed his cheek. ‘You’re a grand lad. A fine boy anyone would be proud to call son. Don’t I love the bones of ye?’

  He smiled, warming to her love as he always did. If he’d missed out on years of her loving as a child, she’d certainly made up for it since. He grinned. ‘Besides, I don’t have a bucket and spade.’

  ‘We could always buy you one,’ Kate teased.

  They took the train to Scarborough, with the intention of staying for a week, the two aunts insisting on accompanying them, just in case Kate should suffer a relapse.

  On the second morning following Kate’s departure, Callum came down to breakfast dressed in his old working clothes, as usual, but Jack was in a smart suit and tie.

  Callum glanced at him in surprise. ‘By heck, tha’ll not be much good in t’workshop dressed up like a dog’s dinner.’

  ‘Dog’s dinner? Is that some quaint local phrase? I don’t intend to be in the workshop, or the finishing room, or any of those other dreadful places where the dirty work is done. I shall be in the office from now on.’

  ‘Of course, he won’t be in the workshop. I’ve given new instructions. After all, once darling Jack is twenty-one he’ll be taking his rightful position as head of the company.’ Lucy had apparently decided, without reference to anyone, that her son would work in the office in future, alongside Toby Lynch, and learn all there was to learn about running the business. She sat smiling proudly at him, ready to see him off.

  Callum wondered what his mother would have to say about this plan when she learned of it. It would hurt her badly to see Jack strutting about, making it clear he meant to take Eliot’s place.

  ‘And don’t think I’ll be seen going in with you any more, because I won’t. Over my dead body! You and I won’t be mixing in future, not at the factory and even less here at home. I shall be one of the bosses while you – you’re nothing but scum,’ Jack taunted.

  Callum chuckled. ‘See if I care! But you still need to know how to make shoes before you can start telling men such as Billy Braithwaite and Jack Milburn the way to do their job. You need to understand leather inside out.’

  Lucy gave a trill of laugher. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! We pay other people to understand the actual process. Dear me, what nonsense you do talk, if I may say so.’

  Jack piled his plate high with bacon and scrambled eggs, tucking in with gusto. ‘Not my problem. That’s for the peasants to work out, for the likes of you and your kind, the sort who come from the wrong side of the blanket and have to labour for their living.’

  Callum jumped to his feet, sending the jam pot and the sugar bowl flying in his fury. ‘Right, that’s it. I’ve had enough of your nasty insinuations. Take that back or I’ll mek you live to regret it.’

  Jack simply laughed. ‘Look at him. What a sorry mess. Doesn’t even have any table manners, and should by rights be given elocution lessons as well as better schooling.’

  Lucy said, ‘Sit down, boy. I won’t have your workhouse fisticuffs here.’

  ‘Then tell your blasted son to stop insulting my mam. I were born in wedlock, all right and proper, as he knows only too well. My dad – my real dad – was drowned in the river.’

  Now Jack was on his feet, glaring across the table at Callum, as if he’d like to drag him over it and punch him one. ‘Exactly, you’re not a Tyson, you’re an infiltrator into this family and you’ll get none of the Tyson wealth, not if I’ve any say.’

  ‘Aye, but you don’t have any, do you? Tyson’s Shoes belongs to my mam now. Don’t forget that.’

  ‘Sit down, both of you. You too, Jack.’

  While Callum remained on his feet, fists clenched, Jack smoothed down his lapels, shook out his napkin and returned to his seat, a scornful sneer on his handsome face. ‘Fortunately that is no longer the case. My mother owns half the business too.’

  ‘Indeed I do,’ said Lucy softly, as she calmly reached for a slice of toast and began to spread it with marmalade.

  ‘Not quite half. Mam still owns the majority share and is in overall control.’

  Lucy looked clearly irritated to be so reminded. ‘As things stand at the moment, but situations can change very quickly.’

  ‘Indeed they can,’ Jack said, nodding in agreement. ‘Who knows what is round the corner? And with my superior intelligence and good breeding, you haven’t a chance of outflanking me. I can outshine your gutter-manners and lack of education any day of the week. I doubt you can even read. Make no mistake, I’ll have you out of this factory in no time, once I’m fully in charge.’

  ‘Quite right too, darling,’ his mother agreed, taking a bite of her toast.

  Callum very nearly lunged for him again, but managed to control himself just in time. Instead, he had to be content with one last parting shot.

  ‘Don’t ever underestimate my mam. She may be a bit down right at this minute, but she’ll bounce back, mark my words. She’ll return to her desk, and when she does, she’ll not be alone. She has friends, and she has me. Remember that!’ Then he left the room without even finishing his own breakfast, despite having a long, hard day’s work ahead of him.

  Callum hunched his shoulders and went off to meet his mates, as he usually did. Maybe he was wasting his time staying on at the factory, and he should make a break for it right now. It was certainly true that he wasn’t interested in owning the place. All he wanted was to feel that he belonged, to be a part of a family, and if Lucy hadn’t turned up like a bad penny, he might well have managed that in the end. He might even have come to accept Eliot. A part of him was sorry that he’d never got the chance.

  Later that day he saw Jack being escorted round the factory by Toby Lynch, heard the foreman describing the various processes to him, explaining what was going on in each room. All about the men who cut the leather for the uppers, and another thirty or so who cut the soles. In the closing room well o
ver a hundred girls formed the uppers which were later attached to the soles in the finishing room. Last of all, the boot or shoe was burnished, buffered and polished, then sent to the packing room where they were sized and paired off, the shoes put into plain white boxes and the boots strung up and packed in cartons ready for dispatch to the shops.

  At one point Jack actually stood by Callum’s bench, picked up a boot, and, turning it over, made a great show of examining it. ‘And if a shoemaker doesn’t come up to scratch, he presumably gets sacked, since standards at Tysons are so important?’

  Toby half glanced at Callum, then tried to edge Jack away before replying.

  ‘Well? I asked you a question.’

  Toby looked uncomfortable, holding out his hand for the boot, but Jack held on to it. ‘That has ever been the case, aye. Standards have always been high at Tyson’s.’

  ‘Quite so.’ Jack dropped the boot back on the bench, casting a glance of malicious triumph at Callum, though he’d found nothing wrong with it. ‘So what happens if someone doesn’t fit in, if they’re a trouble-maker?’

  The resentment clearly bubbling beneath the surface between these two young men was such that Toby Lynch sought to deflect Jack by changing the subject. ‘During the war this factory was like a mad house, manic it was as hundreds of pairs of boots were being shipped out daily. Now it’s quiet as a graveyard by comparison. Kate has plans to change all of that, but they haven’t yet been put into effect.’

  ‘She might never do so now,’ Jack said, again casting a scathing glance at Callum, who was keeping his head down as he laboured, wary of upsetting the foreman.