by Anna King
A glimmer of recognition came to Emily.
‘Of course, how silly of me. But as you say, we only met the once, and it was a very brief meeting. Oh, please, won’t you join us,’ Emily said, pulling out a chair from under the table.
‘Well, I don’t mind if I do, Miss. Thank yer kindly.’
As soon as the woman sat down, Emily regretted her hasty invitation. She hadn’t a clue what she could talk about with this comparative stranger, but she needn’t have worried on that score, for Fanny Lawson had plenty to say.
Seating herself comfortably, she began, ‘Well, it’s nice ter see yer’ve got on, Miss, ’cos I felt dreadful about taking yer job, especially since yer was… well, expecting like. He’s a lovely little lad, an’ no mistake. Who does he take after, Miss, you or yer husband?’ Inquisitive, kindly eyes peered at the small boy, who was in the process of demolishing a currant bun.
Emily stiffened. Thinking the woman was simply being nosy, she said curtly, ‘I’m not married, Mrs Lawson. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to be on my way.’
‘Oh, oh, Lor, Miss. I didn’t mean any ’arm, Miss, honest.’ Emily couldn’t help but notice the genuine remorse in the woman’s voice, and she relaxed somewhat.
‘That’s perfectly all right, but I really do have to get home, unless…!’ Emily had the impression that there was something on the woman’s mind, then she remembered her earlier remark. Keeping her voice casual she said, ‘What did you mean, about it being the worst day of your life when you went to work for Miss Winter?’
Immediately the woman became all bustle, declaring, ‘Well now, I’m not one ter gossip, Miss. An’ I don’t want yer thinking I’m out ter cause trouble, just because I was sacked, ’cos I ain’t like that.’
Emily eyed the woman keenly.
‘Of course not,’ she said soothingly, then probed gently, ‘Is it something to do with your late employer, or has Mrs Denton done something to upset you – apart from dismissing you, I mean?’
The name of Cynthia Denton acted like a red rag to a bull. Bristling with indignation, the plump figure exclaimed, ‘Oh, that one. She’s a devil, a devil, Miss. She drove that poor old lady ter ’er grave. An’ I’ll tell yer another fing, Miss. The doctor, well, ’e was surprised when she passed away, ’cos, she might ’ave gone a bit peculiar in the ’ead, but she was in good ’ealth, an’ we all expected ’er ter live a good few more years than she did, poor soul.’
Emily sat back in her chair, stunned by what she had heard. Then, very carefully she said, ‘Mrs Lawson, you’re surely not suggesting that Mrs Denton had anything to do with Miss Winter’s death, are you?’
A look of fear sprang into the woman’s eyes.
‘Lor, Miss, now I never said any such fing, did I? A body could get inter awful trouble spreading rumours like that.’
Quick to reassure her, Emily leant across the table and said, ‘If I feel I have to act on whatever you tell me, I promise you that your name will never be mentioned. You have my word on it. But I was very fond of Miss Rose, and I’m sure Captain Winter would be very…’
‘Oh, dear, Miss. The poor captain wouldn’t be able ter do anyfing, not the state he’s in, poor soul. An’ that’s the real reason I wanted ter talk ter yer, Miss, ’cos I’ve been that worried. I haven’t ’ad a wink of sleep fer days now, thinking about ’im alone in the ’ouse with that woman!’ Emily stared at her in alarm, but before she could say anything, Fanny Lawson was off again in full flow.
‘He came round ter see ’er, an’, ooh, yer should ’ave heard them, Miss. Yelling an’ shouting, both of them. I don’t know what it was all about, but the captain, ’e suddenly took ill, but she wouldn’t let me call a doctor fer ’im. Insisted, she did, that he didn’t need one, when anyone could see the poor man was really ill. Anyways, I didn’t see ’im again that night, but I ’eard someone moving about in the attic. I asked ’er, Mrs Denton, if the captain was all right, an’ she nearly bit me ’ead off.
‘Anyway, the very next day she sacked me. That was nearly a week ago, but, oh, Miss, I’ve been that worried, an’ when I saw yer come into the café… Well, Miss, I was never so pleased ter see anyone in me life. I mean, he might ’ave left by now, but ’e did look bad, an’…’
Emily sat very still as the woman rambled on, and as the words flowed, she felt her anger slowly building to an overpowering rage.
* * *
Joseph shrieked with delight as the pram rolled at breakneck speed over the cobbled pavement. A few times he was almost catapulted onto the ground. Almost, but not quite, for Emily, although still gripped by rage, had her eye firmly on her child and each time he rose in the air, her hand automatically shot out, pushing him back into the safety of the pram.
When she first dashed into her home she thought for a moment she had charged into the wrong house, for staring back at her were five rather grubby children, and a woman she’d never seen before. Emily was about to speak, when Nellie came in from the kitchen exclaiming joyfully, ‘Oh, hello, love. This is Mrs Anderson. She very kindly came with news of Lenny.’
For a wild moment Emily thought her brother was still alive, and Nellie must have seen it in her daughter’s face, because she immediately added, ‘Oh, no, love, he… he’s dead, but at least now I know how he died. He… Oh, please, Mrs Anderson, would you repeat to my daughter what you told me.’
The visitor shuffled awkwardly on the hard-backed chair, then, lifting her gaze to the tall, auburn-haired woman, she related the news she had recently told the mother.
‘Well, Miss, it’s like this. Me ’usband was fighting out in France, an’ he got hit. ’E thought ’e was a goner, ’cos there weren’t any stretcher-bearers, on account of the mud; they couldn’t get ter the wounded, yer see. Anyways, like I said, me ’usband thought ’e was finished, then this young man sort of appeared out of nowhere, bundled my ’Arry onter a stretcher, an’ dragged ’im back ter the first-aid post. An’ when the orderlies went out ter fetch ’im in, yer bruwer, I mean,’ she looked from Nellie to Emily as if in apology, ‘’e was gom. ’E must’ve gorn back ter try an’ rescue someone else, only… only ’e never came back.’ The woman lowered her eyes.
‘How… how did you know where to find us?’ Emily asked quietly.
‘Well, it was like I told yer muvver,’ she nodded in Nellie’s direction. ‘Me ’usband an’ yer bruwer didn’t ’ave time fer a chat, there was bombs an’ bullets going orf all over the place, but they did manage ter exchange names on the way. An’ when my ’Arry got outta the ’ospital, ’e tried ter find ’im ter say thanks, but it was such a muddle over there, an’ ’Arry didn’t know what regiment yer bruvver was with, so ’e had ter leave it. But ’e never fergot ’im. ’E was in hospital fer ever such a long time, over a year it was, but as soon as ’e came out, ’e started to make enquiries like. It took ever such a long while, but ’e found out. Then ’e was frightened ter come ’ere. ’E thought yer might ’old it against ’im … I mean, if yer knew yer son ’ad died because of ’im. But like I said ter ’im, “ ’Arry,” I said, “yer’ve gotta go an’ tell ’is poor muvver what ’appened, ’cos ’e was an ’ero.”’ The woman paused for breath, and when she looked at Emily and Nellie again her eyes were bright with tears. ‘An’ ’e was, yer know, ’e was a ’ero, ’cos nobody else risked going ter get the wounded in. Your son saved me ’usband’s life, an’… and I’m heart sorry he was killed, ’cos I would’ve liked to meet ’im… Oh, dear… Oh, I’m sorry.’
Instantly Nellie was by her side comforting the woman. Emily, too, came to the woman’s side and rested a hand on the heaving shoulder. And when she looked up at her mother, she saw Nellie smile. It was a watery, emotional smile, but it was genuine. Lenny would never come home, but at least they now knew how he had died. As the woman had said, Lenny had died a hero, and if he had to die, it was a death he would have been proud of. Emily and Nellie were both reliving Lenny’s last moments in their minds, and though the images brought sadness to th
eir hearts, it was a sadness tinged with joy. For Lenny’s last moments on earth had been those of a man; a very brave man.
It was nearly an hour later when Emily left the house. They had all enjoyed a good cry – the children too joining in, bewildered by the sight of the adults weeping and holding each other. But now Emily had to concentrate on another matter. Her face and body steeled with determination, she marched purposefully across Victoria Park, the memory of Mrs Lawson’s words adding strength to her already highly charged state of mind.
As she strode through the iron gates of the park, she came to an abrupt halt at the sight of the removal van parked outside the house in Gore Road. With a cry of anger she ran across the road, calling out loudly, ‘Wait, there’s been a mistake. Just wait a minute, will you?’
Two men, wearing brown overcoats, were in the process of lifting the piano into the back of the van when they heard the voice calling to them. Puzzled, they looked at the tall, attractive woman for an explanation.
Panting for breath, Emily gasped, ‘There’s been a mistake. The furniture is staying where it is.’
The elder of the two men tipped back his cap and scratched his head, perplexed.
‘We’ve got our orders to shift the furniture. It’s all been bought an’ paid for, Miss.’ Pulling a large sheet of paper from the breast-pocket of his overcoat, he held it out for Emily to see. ‘Look, all bought an’ paid fer, like I said. There’s been no mistake, Miss.’
Emily grabbed hold of the man’s arm, pleading, ‘Please, I can’t explain right now, but can you wait before removing anything else? Please, it’s very important.’
The man looked into the lovely blue eyes and relented. ‘All right, Miss. But we can’t hang around all afternoon. We’ve got other houses to visit.’
‘Bless you,’ Emily cried, then she was running up the stone steps and into the house.
Stopping only to make sure that the downstairs rooms were empty, she quickly ran up the carpeted stairs, calling out loudly, ‘Mrs Denton. Mrs Denton, where are you? I need to speak to you urgently.’
Within seconds Cynthia Denton appeared from the bedroom that had once belonged to Miss Rose. Emily swept her eyes over the slim figure, noting at once the expensive beige summer coat and the large, black floppy hat that almost covered the right side of her face. Behind Cynthia, in the bedroom, Emily’s eyes fell on two trunks and several suitcases, obviously packed and waiting for removal.
‘Well, well, if it isn’t the serving girl. Have you come back to reminisce over old times, or were you hoping to get your old job back?’ Cynthia Denton’s gaze swept disdainfully over Emily’s plain white blouse, fastened at the neck with a marquise brooch, and her black hobble skirt. ‘If so, then I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time, on both counts, Miss Ford.’ One eyebrow was raised mockingly. ‘How did you find out I was selling up? Through the East End grapevine, I suppose. If that’s the case, then I suppose you already know that my late cousin left me the house in her will. Wasn’t that kind of her? But I’ve decided not to stop on. The house has too many memories and…’
‘Where is he?’ Emily demanded. ‘Where is Matthew?’
‘My, my, Matthew, is it? I’d no idea you two had become so close. Have you come to take him home with you, to that poxy little back-street hovel where you live?’ Cynthia was smirking, carefully pulling on a pair of white linen gloves, one finger at a time. ‘Still, beggars can’t be choosers, and I suppose he’ll be grateful for a roof over his head, wherever… Oooh…’ The smirk vanished as she found herself being pushed into the large living-room, then a violent shove sent her sprawling across the dark green settee.
‘You bitch! You wicked, cruel bitch. I know all about you, and what you’ve done, and by God you’re going to pay for it! And to answer your question about taking him home, he is home, and here he’s going to stay.’ Emily glared down at the hated figure, her chest heaving with anger. ‘I don’t know why you asked him to come here, how you tricked him into seeing you, and I don’t care. What I do know is that he’s very ill, and you… you evil, wicked bitch, you’ve deliberately kept him here out of spite, so that…’
Cynthia sprang to her feet, snatching up her black hat from the floor as she did so. As if nothing had happened, she carefully fitted the hat back on her bobbed hair, her actions unhurried. Then, walking towards Emily, she drawled, ‘Matthew is free to leave whenever he chooses. I haven’t tied him up, or locked him in some dark room, but he doesn’t seem that anxious to leave. Of course, that may be because he has nowhere else to go, but that isn’t my concern. And I didn’t trick him into coming here; why on earth should I? He came to see me of his own accord – some silly notion he had about contesting the will. Really, the lengths one will go to when one is desperate. And he is desperate, poor man. Oh, I confess there was a time when I might have been interested in him, but that was before dear Rose passed away.’
She began to walk round the room, now bare except for the settee and one armchair. ‘I already have a tidy sum put by, and of course there is the money from the sale of the house to be considered, plus the few pieces of jewellery that Rose left; mine now, of course. Yes, indeed, I shall be very comfortably off in the future.’
Her manner suddenly changing, she turned menacingly to where Emily was standing white-faced by the door and sneered, ‘If it’s Matthew you’ve come for, then take him and get out, you’re welcome to him. God! As if I’d waste my time on a pathetic specimen like he’s become. If I want a man, I’ll choose a strong, capable one, not a man who can’t even cough without choking his lungs up. And you think I’ve kept him here for my own pleasure! He’s no use to any woman now – but take him, please.’
When Emily didn’t move, Cynthia bunched her hands into fists and hissed, ‘Now I’ve been very patient with you. Obviously that was a mistake, so I’ll put it to you plainly, in words you will understand. Get out of my house, you little whore, before I…’
Emily gave a harsh laugh.
‘You’re a fine one to be calling me a whore. I wasn’t the one who climbed into bed with a man who was so sick he was barely able to fight you off. But he managed to, didn’t he? It’s said that in times of crisis, people acquire a strength they didn’t know they possessed, and by God, finding you next to him must have given Matthew that strength. It must have been like finding a snake crawling between the sheets… Now, I’ll ask you one more time. Where’s Matthew? Is he still here, or have you thrown him out with the furniture?’
Making a sound almost like an animal, Cynthia snarled, ‘He’s in the attic, or what’s left of him is. I haven’t seen him for days – he could be dead, for all I know, or care. Now, I’ll give you just fifteen minutes to leave, alone or with Matthew, I don’t much care which. If you don’t, I’ll call the police and have you both forcibly removed.’ As she said these last words, Cynthia put out her hand and pushed Emily to one side; and that was her biggest mistake.
Forgetting all that Mr George had taught her, Emily let out a cry of rage and launched herself at the mocking figure. Grabbing handfuls of Cynthia’s hair, she pulled and tugged without mercy. Then her own hair was being yanked so hard that Emily imagined it was being pulled out by the roots. Screeching and shouting, the two women fought like wild animals, rolling around on the carpeted floor, each determined to get the upper hand. Neither of them heard Matthew calling to them to stop, until he stepped forward and tried to separate the writhing bodies.
A foot came out and caught him hard in the stomach, and with a gasp of pain he staggered backwards, his hand going out to grab at the nearby armchair to prevent himself from falling to the ground. It was Emily who first became aware of his presence. Bringing up her clenched fist, she drove it straight into Cynthia’s face, causing the woman to loosen her grip on Emily’s hair. Crawling on all fours, Emily inched her way towards Matthew.
‘You’ll pay for this, you little trollop,’ Cynthia screamed wildly. ‘I’ll have the law on you for this, you see if I don’t.’
Gently lowering Matthew into the armchair, Emily rounded on the furious woman and yelled, ‘You do that, Mrs Denton, and I’ll have a story to tell them as well. Like how Miss Rose died so suddenly, when she was in perfect health. I’m sure the police would be very interested in what I have to say.’
Cynthia came to an abrupt halt, her eyes widening in sudden fear. Then she pulled herself upright and said scornfully, ‘You’re mad. The doctor examined her. He found no suspicious circumstances in her death, he…’
‘No, but he wouldn’t have been looking for any, would he?’ Emily shouted back. ‘But if I were to voice my suspicions, they’d have to check, wouldn’t they? I wouldn’t be surprised if they exhumed her body. I’ve heard that they do that if there’s even a suspicion of foul play. But that shouldn’t concern you, should it? After all, if your conscience is clear, you have nothing to worry about, have you, Mrs Denton? It all depends on whether you’re willing to take that chance.’
Cynthia’s face was contorted with rage, but it wasn’t until she screamed, ‘Damn you for an interfering little slut, damn you to hell’ that she raced from the room.
Emily stood stunned by Cynthia’s reaction, then a sickness rose in her throat. Dear Lord! So Fanny Lawson had been right in her suspicions. She felt suddenly weak and drained.
‘Emily, what… What’s going on…?’ Matthew, his face ashen, gripped her hand feebly.
‘Sshh, my dear. It’s nothing for you to worry about. I’ll see to everything. You just rest and get well again. There’s just one more thing I have to see to, then I’ll get the doctor to have a look at you, and then we can talk.’ Smoothing back the lank, dark hair from his forehead, Emily bent and kissed the clammy brow.
The noise of something heavy being dragged down the stairs brought her swiftly to her feet. Racing down the hallway, she saw Cynthia desperately trying to drag the trunk down the stairs, and with a quick bound Emily was running down stairs and barring her way.
