by Tania Crosse
‘Thanks, Patrick,’ Jessica said, smiling at him adoringly. ‘I mustn’t be long, mind. I’m expected home, and there’ll be questions asked if I’m late.’
‘Aren’t you taking a bit of a risk if you’re worried about being seen, and word getting back to your parents?’
Jessica’s curls danced as she nodded her head. ‘A bit. But Dad’s at work, of course, and Mum wouldn’t come to the park on her own. And she’s such a snob, she wouldn’t talk to anyone else on the street, and not many other people actually know me.’
‘And I have told Jessica not to worry. I should always take care of her no matter what, just as Jimmy takes care of you.’
Hillie had to hide a wry smile as they sat in the sunshine enjoying their refreshments. She managed to change the subject by admiring Jessica’s handbag, and before long, her friends stood up to leave. Hillie noticed Patrick place a peck on Jessica’s cheek before they parted company.
Hillie sat for a while longer, musing over the dregs of her lemonade. It was only when she recognised a familiar, beloved young voice that she jerked up her head. Trixie! Parading down the path on the opposite side of the grass was her dad, leading all the children in strict crocodile file. Luke was bringing up the rear, hanging his head, but Nell was nowhere to be seen.
Hillie’s heart exploded as she leapt to her feet and streaked across to them. She was just in the mood to confront her father, but as she went to speak to her sisters, he swung round and doffed his cap in a low, sarcastic, mocking bow. Hillie was so pole-axed that she stopped in her tracks. Grinning malevolently, her father wagged his finger at his children and then put it to his lips. And then narrowing his eyes at Hillie, he pointed at the children and drew his finger across his throat in a threatening gesture, before moving on, his lips in a vicious leer.
Hillie could do nothing but let them pass, seething with rage. The bastard never came to the park, but he knew that she often did. How many times had he come there, hoping he’d get the chance to taunt her as he just had? She could have screamed, hopping on the spot in a swirling agony of anger and hate.
Luke glanced back over his shoulder, his young brow folded in terrified frustration. And as she watched her family snake away down the path, Hillie’s fists balled at her sides, fingernails digging into her palms. For there was nothing she could do.
Chapter Fourteen
‘Luke!’ Hillie gasped in astonishment, colliding with her brother as she rounded the corner of one of the buildings at the factory one lunchtime in September. She’d been deep in thought, going over in her head the film, The Private Life of Henry VIII, starring Charles Laughton, that she and Jimmy had been to see a few weeks before. She’d been so enthralled by it that she still kept thinking about it every now and then. So to bump into Luke so unexpectedly was a bit of a shock. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’ she asked him.
Luke looked down at his feet, grinding the toe of his shoe into the ground. He stuffed his hands deeper into his trouser pockets, his shoulders hunched. ‘It was my birthday a couple of weeks ago,’ he said glumly. ‘I was fourteen.’
‘Yes, I know.’ Hillie gave a puzzled frown. ‘I sent you a card and a ten-bob note.’
Luke’s head shot up in accusation. ‘No, you didn’t. Just like you’ve forgotten everyone else’s birthday since you got married.’
For several seconds, Hillie felt as if she couldn’t breathe. ‘You… you what?’ She finally forced the words from her throat. ‘I sent everyone the same!’
‘Well, we didn’t get them. And you can’t tell me they all got lost in the post.’
‘No. But I bet I know who made sure he got to the post first on those days.’ Hillie’s horrified gaze met Luke’s as the truth dawned on both of them. ‘The bastard,’ Hillie mumbled, so enraged she could barely speak. ‘He must’ve opened them and pocketed the money himself.’
‘Well, certainly none of us saw any of it.’ Luke’s face was furious with disgust. ‘Not even the cards. Oh, I’m sorry, Hill. I should’ve known.’
‘And I suppose he’s running me down to the others all the time as well.’
Luke nodded in response, biting his bottom lip. ‘’Fraid so.’
‘And taking that money from his own children. How could he? I saved hard for it each time. It’s a decent sum is ten bob.’
‘I know,’ Luke snorted wryly. ‘Almost a week’s wages for me.’
‘Wages!’ Hillie was appalled.
‘Yes. I’m working here now. In the night-light wicking shed. But at least I don’t have to do the paper round anymore,’ he said wistfully. ‘But I wanted to stay at school until I’m sixteen. Go on to college, even. Study engineering, maybe. I’m good with my hands.’
‘And your brain. Oh, Luke, I am sorry. I feel as if it’s my fault.’
‘No. Dad would’ve made me leave school anyway, so it doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t have got the chance either way.’ Luke gave a mournful shrug. ‘He wouldn’t even let me stay on till the end of term at Christmas. He said I’d turned fourteen and had to leave straightaway. When the headmistress tried to tell him otherwise, he threatened her. So here I am.’
‘Just like he did with me,’ Hillie muttered bitterly. ‘Oh, Luke, I am sorry. I wish there was something I could do. Look.’ She glanced around, fearful their father could be watching them, but she couldn’t see him. ‘I haven’t got any extra on me today. But I’ll try to carry the odd spare bob or two and then next time we bump into each other, I can slip you a bit extra for Mum. We’ll have to be careful, mind.’
‘Can’t we make some definite meeting time?’
‘That might be difficult, so let me think about it. And if I tell you our new address, can you remember it? Best not write it down in case you know who finds it. We moved into a proper flat in the summer. You must come round when you think it’s safe.’
‘You and Jimmy doing OK, then?’
‘Not bad. You know Jimmy works shifts at a pub at the weekends, and he runs errands for some chap who drinks there. But you’d best go now before a certain person sees us. And give Mum my love. All right, is she?’
‘Been a bit peaky lately. But probably ’cos she’s missing you.’
‘We’ll have to see what we can do about that. I wonder if we could possibly arrange something through Mrs P? But it could be tricky and so much the worse for Mum if it went wrong. Anyway, off you go now. And be careful, Luke.’
‘I will.’ Luke’s eyes narrowed. ‘Especially now I know what the bastard’s up to.’
Hillie nodded as she watched him hurry away. She didn’t like to hear such language from her little brother, but she supposed their dad was right in one thing. Luke was grown-up now. But he’d never be a match for their bully of a father.
If only there was something she could do. She’d talk to Jimmy about it that evening. He was bound to come up with something, was Jimmy.
*
‘Flipping heck, can you hear that? Break the blooming front door down in a minute!’
Hillie paused from the washing-up and raised an eyebrow at Jimmy’s words. Certainly someone was hammering on the front door downstairs, making an almighty racket. She hoped either Mr or Mrs Neilson would answer it soon. It was most unnerving that someone was in such a hurry to speak to them.
Ah, thank goodness. The noise had stopped, and Hillie could hear Mr Neilson’s deep voice. She liked their new landlord and landlady and hoped nothing was wrong. She could no longer hear Mr Neilson so she supposed everything must be all right. But then there were footsteps thundering up the stairs. And they didn’t stop at the flat below.
Hillie’s heart clenched. She somehow knew before the first frantic knocking on the door to their flat, and she was already drying her hands as she crossed the room. Her pulse was cracking wildly and she knew instinctively who was at the door.
‘Luke! Whatever’s the matter?’
The boy’s young face was alive with panic, ghostly white, bare cheeks scarlet from running through
the cold November night. ‘You’ve got to come, Hill! Quickly! It’s Mum.’
Hillie’s stomach squeezed even more tightly. ‘Mum? What’s wrong with her?’ she demanded, tearing off her apron.
‘I… don’t really know,’ Luke stammered, still fighting for breath. ‘She can’t get up and she’s gone a funny colour. I got Mrs P. And she said to fetch you, and then to get someone from the Women’s Hospital.’
‘And where’s Dad?’ Hillie asked sharply, grabbing her coat. Not that she cared. If her Mum was so ill that Mrs P was sending for a doctor, dealing with her father would be the least of Hillie’s problems. And, dear God, if he was responsible…
‘Went down the pub a while before,’ Luke panted, still struggling to catch his breath. ‘After the little ones went to bed.’
‘Drinking your wages, no doubt. And Mum was all right then?’
‘Yes. At least, I thought she was. But then she started groaning and holding her stomach, and then she collapsed.’
Hillie could feel the blood racing about her limbs, making her feel slightly faint, but she must remain in control. Poor Luke was beside himself, looking to her for direction. And she was grateful when Jimmy appeared beside her.
‘I’ll go to the hospital,’ he offered. ‘You two go back to the house.’
‘OK, Jimmy.’ Hillie turned to her husband, and their eyes met in silent understanding. ‘And thanks.’
‘I’ll be as quick as I can,’ she heard him say as she and Luke hurried down the flights of stairs. And then as she stepped out into the night air, she heard the familiar click of the flat door as Jimmy followed them down.
The maze of darkened streets Hillie had lived among all her life seemed strange and hostile. Rows of faceless houses, closed up against the night, each one anonymous and yet holding dark secrets of its own. At least, that was how it felt to Hillie as they scuttled from the arc of light from one street lamp to the next. A cold, steady drizzle, misty with the smuts from hundreds of smoking chimneys, made it difficult to see. Grey, murky shadows merged into one, making it impossible to run at speed along the uneven pavements. And Hillie was peering through a fog of anger and guilt. Her dad. He’d been up to his old tricks again, hadn’t he? The severity of internal injuries didn’t always show itself straightaway. Hillie knew that. She should have stood up to her dad instead of running away like a coward. And now this.
It seemed an age before they reached the house. Hillie could feel herself shaking as they let themselves in the front door. All the old hatred welled up inside. She’d fight her father, and this time she vowed that she’d be stronger than him.
‘Up here,’ Eva’s familiar voice called softly from upstairs.
They tiptoed up. The girls would all be asleep, but more than that, they both felt as if they were in the presence of something enormous and frightening. Hillie thought her heart must have stopped as she gently pushed open the door to her parents’ bedroom.
She held her breath. There was only the one bare light bulb hanging from its fabric-covered, twisted cable in the middle of the ceiling. Eva couldn’t have wanted to blind her dear friend with such stark brilliance, and with there being no table lamp, she’d lit a row of night-lights along the mantelpiece. In the uncertain, flickering glow, Nell looked a strange grey, her skin pallid and thin. Hillie hadn’t seen her mum for nearly nine months, so to find her like this was a spear in her heart. Nell’s eyes were shut, and Eva was holding her hand and crooning softly. Eva glanced up when she saw the two young people enter the room.
‘Ah, Hillie,’ she whispered, her lowered voice quivering. ‘And Luke, I thought I told you to get—’
‘Jimmy’s gone to the hospital,’ Hillie told her. ‘I hope to God they won’t be long.’
Eva nodded, and then turned to stroke Nell’s hand as she moaned again. ‘I managed to get her up the stairs, but then she passed out. I’ve put a hot-water bottle in the bed. She seems so cold. Come. You take my place. Talk to her. She might be able to hear you. I don’t know.’
In the deathly quiet of the room, they swapped places and Eva stood at the foot of the bed, like a fierce, protective angel. Hillie stared at her mother’s jaundiced face, listened to her uneven, shallow breathing. She barely looked alive, and Hillie was choking on her own bitter rage.
‘It was him again, wasn’t it?’ The tortured words tore at her throat. ‘It was my fault. I shouldn’t have—’
‘No. It wasn’t your dad.’
Eva’s barely spoken words stung into Hillie’s heart, and she swung round. ‘What d’you mean?’
Eva nodded at Luke. ‘Go and put the kettle on, there’s a good lad. We could all do with a cuppa.’
Luke blinked at them, and Hillie recognised the gentle indecision on his face. He wanted to be there. With his mum. But he was also scared, and would rather not face the dreadful tension in the bedroom. The kitchen would be an escape, and when he looked at Hillie for approval, she nodded her head.
‘I… don’t know how to tell you this, luvvie,’ Eva croaked once they could hear Luke moving about downstairs. ‘She… she… well…’
Every nerve in Hillie’s body was ready to snap. If Eva couldn’t bring herself to tell her… And then she watched, mesmerised in horror, as Eva lifted the blankets. Her mother was lying in a pool of wet, glistening blood that had soaked her skirt and was oozing down her legs, despite the rolled-up towel that Eva had pressed up between her thighs.
Hillie recoiled in horror, hands over her mouth, as Eva reverently replaced the bedcovers, shaking her head in utter sorrow. Hillie continued to stare in agonised shock, her mind spinning in crazed circles. Surely Jimmy must arrive with the doctor soon!
‘A… a miscarriage,’ Hillie stuttered.
Then she felt a hand, calm but defeated, on her arm. ‘No, not that, ducks. She told me she couldn’t face having another one. Another one to protect from your dad. To try and squeeze money out of him for extra food. She said… it’d be better off not living. So she tried to get rid of it. For its own sake. Only she didn’t expect this to happen.’
Something like ice streamed through Hillie’s veins as the meaning of Eva’s hushed words percolated into her brain. ‘B-but…’ She’d started to shiver, her trembling jaw making it hard to speak. ‘I-I don’t understand. She… she should’ve told me. I could’ve helped.’
But Eva’s voice was firm. ‘No. I don’t think no one could’ve helped. She’d just had enough. All those years of fighting your dad.’
‘And… and did he know?’ she spat viciously.
‘That she was preggers again? No. She wasn’t going to tell no one. It’s only you and me what knows.’
‘And whoever did this.’ Hillie turned a tear-ravaged face to Eva, breaking the woman’s heart. ‘Did… did she say who it was? I mean… how did she know anyone?’
Eva’s face seemed to close up, but then the tight lines about her mouth slackened. ‘It’s only right that you should know. It was Dolly Maguire,’ she barely whispered.
‘Dolly Maguire!’
‘Sh! Not Dolly herself, but someone she knows. Now don’t you blame Dolly,’ Eva warned quietly. ‘Your mum went to Dolly ’cos she was the only person she thought would know someone.’
‘But…’ Hillie shook her head in despair. She just couldn’t comprehend… The sigh that broke from her lungs was brutal and unforgiving.
Eva stepped noiselessly to the door. ‘I’ll go and see if Luke’s finished making that cuppa yet.’
Hillie hung her head as she was left alone with her mum in the silent room. She couldn’t believe what was happening. What her mum had done. It was so unlike her. She was devoted to her children. Couldn’t have been a better mother. So it must have been just as Eva had said. She’d had enough. Was at the end of her tether. Desperate.
Hillie choked back her tears and took her mum’s limp hand again. Soothed it. Stroked it. But there was no response. Hillie felt so helpless. Useless. If only there was something she could do. But she kn
ew that only a doctor could help Nell now.
She blinked her eyes wide to clear the moisture that was blurring her vision. She let her gaze wander around the familiar room. It was so stark. Nothing personal about it. Because her dad scorned such fripperies. Hillie saw that the cot had gone, so Frances must have moved into the other room when she’d left. Just as well as she was far too big for a cot now.
But it would have made it even easier for their father to force himself on his wife.
Hillie felt as if she would suffocate. Was it her fault for leaving? For abandoning her mum, forcing her to face her dad alone?
‘Here you are, dearie.’
Eva, coming in with two cups of tea, rescued Hillie from her feelings of guilt. The quiet clink as she took the cup and saucer and placed them on the bedside cabinet must have been enough to disturb Nell. She groaned weakly and her eyelids flickered half open. Her wandering eyes focused on Hillie’s face, and her mouth curved in the shadow of a smile.
‘My darling girl,’ she rasped in less than a whisper. ‘Forgive me.’
Hillie felt a dagger screw into her chest. ‘Forgive you?’ she choked. ‘Of course. But you should’ve told me. I could’ve helped.’
‘No. Not this.’ The words were so low and slurred, barely articulated, so that Hillie had a job to make them out. ‘That’s… between me… and my Maker. The other thing,’ Nell went on, scarcely breathing. ‘Eva will tell you. I… did it… for you. But I was wrong. But… you’ve escaped. I’m… so pleased. So proud of you. Be happy, my darling. And take care of the little ones for me.’
Her eyes closed, and she sank back on the pillows, her face serene. Hillie threw Eva a questioning glance. What had her mum meant? But that could wait. Hillie took Nell’s hand again, squeezing it between both of hers. And noticed her own tears dripping onto their joined fingers.
‘Drink your tea whilst it’s still hot,’ Eva instructed. ‘It’s brass monkeys in here. I daredn’t light the fire. I didn’t know if the chimney’s been swept. Don’t want to set it on fire.’
