Hearing a sharp knock on the front door, Jenny went to answer it and found two policemen on the step, their bikes propped up against the house.
‘Miss Baker?’
She nodded.
‘We’d like to take your statement about the attack on you yesterday. I’m Sergeant Pegg and this is Constable Wilkins.’
‘You’d better come in.’ They were both big men and seemed to fill the small front room. ‘Please sit down. Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘No, thanks, miss.’ The sergeant took a notebook and pencil out of his pocket. ‘We’d like you to tell us exactly what happened.’
She told them all she could remember, though her recollection of some of it was rather hazy. But the terror was still vivid in her mind and she was shaking by the time she had finished. ‘What about Greaves? He should be punished as well.’
‘Ah, well, we was told by other witnesses that you said he was involved, but we do have a problem with that.’ The sergeant licked the end of his pencil, then wrote a few more words. ‘We’ve been to see the gentle-man and he denies having anything to do with it.’
Jenny snorted in disgust. ‘He would, but one of the men told me they’d been paid by Greaves to attack me.’
‘They’ve changed their tune now,’ the constable said. ‘Did anyone else hear that?’
She tried to picture the scene. Who was standing near her? ‘I really don’t know. The man’s mouth was cut and he wasn’t speaking clearly, but he did say it. I’m certain.’
‘We’ll have another word with everyone, of course.’ The sergeant licked his pencil again. ‘But without proof, we can’t charge Mr Greaves with anything.’
‘But that’s scandalous!’ Jenny was appalled.
‘That’s the law, miss.’ The notebook and pencil were tucked back in the sergeant’s top pocket. ‘But we can put those two ruffians away for a long stretch. Attempted murder of Mr Stannard and the attack on you.’
‘That’s something, I suppose.’ It made her angry to know that Greaves was probably going to get away with this.
The policemen stood up and the young constable gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘It ain’t right, miss, but it would only be your word against his.’
‘I know,’ she sighed, ‘and he would be believed, not me. Will I have to go to court when these men are tried?’
‘Unlikely. The prisoners have admitted trying to harm you and attacking Mr Stannard.’ The sergeant gave a wry shake of his head. ‘They couldn’t hardly do nothing else with half of this street as witnesses, and every one of them eager to talk. Makes a change. Usually we can’t get people to open their mouth around here, but we’ve more witnesses than we can handle.’
As the men went outside again, the constable looked back at Jenny. ‘We’re going to see Mr Stannard now, but if we do turn up anything we can use against Greaves, we’ll let you know.’
Jenny watched them ride off, then closed the door. It was time to get Ma her dinner, and then she’d try to snatch an hour to go to see Matthew.
The sausages sizzled and spat in the pan, and she kept turning them until they were golden brown all over. She then put two on a plate with a large spoonful of fluffy mashed potato; a dribble of gravy was poured over the meal. This was Ma’s favourite, and Jenny knew she would be waiting impatiently as the tantalizing smell wafted up to her bedroom.
She was surprised to see Ma asleep. She smiled affectionately. How peaceful she looked; it was a shame to wake her, but the dinner would get cold. She would be in for an even bigger telling-off if she allowed that to happen.
Placing the tray beside the bed, Jenny leant over and gave Ma a gentle shake. Nothing happened, so she shook her a little harder this time. Still no response!
Her heart began to thud in her chest. Ma didn’t look right. ‘Ma, wake up!’ Plucking Ma’s hand off the blanket, she held it to her cheek. It was still warm. Was she breathing? It looked as if there was a slight movement. She placed her hand on Ma’s chest and watched carefully, but panic was taking hold. There didn’t seem to be any sign of breathing now.
‘Ma!’ she shouted. After a couple of seconds she turned and fled down the stairs, out the front door and into Glad’s place.
Glad was on her own and jumped to her feet as soon as Jenny crashed into the room. ‘Whatever is it, Jen?’
‘Ma,’ she gasped. It felt as if all the air had been drained out of her lungs.
Without asking questions, Glad rushed next door, with Jenny right on her heels.
‘I can’t wake her!’ Jenny watched Glad bend over the motionless form of the elderly woman, searching for signs of life.
‘I’ll get the doctor!’
Glad caught her arm as she was set to run off. ‘There’s no rush, Jen. She’s gone, I’m afraid.’
‘But she was breathing. I’m sure she was breathing,’ she cried in anguish. ‘I cooked her favourite dinner. Are you sure?’
‘I’ve seen enough death to know.’ Glad guided Jenny back downstairs. ‘You make a nice pot of Rosie Lee. I’ll lay Ma out and take care of the necessary.’
Jenny was dry-eyed with shock as she set about making the tea. Ma had been doing so well. At least she had until Greaves had set those two murderous villains on her, and Matthew had been stabbed. And the police didn’t think they could touch him. He ought to hang! Suddenly she cried out in fury. The worry and shock had just killed Ma …
The tears began to flow. She had planned to see Matthew this afternoon, but she couldn’t do that now. They had liked each other, and she couldn’t tell Matthew about Ma’s passing until he was stronger. Ma’s death had to be reported, and all sorts of things done. She couldn’t leave everything to Glad.
The next few days passed in a blur of pain and loss for Jenny, and she was grateful to have Fred and Glad with her. The funeral was only two days away, and she knew it was going to be a distressing time. But at least she would be able to say a proper goodbye to Ma, something she had not been able to do with her father. She would use this service as an opportunity to put that right. In her mind it would be a dual burial for the two people she had loved so much: Ma and her father. The shock of learning that he’d had another family in America had soon gone. He had been such a kind man, and she hoped he had been happy with them.
It was raining again. Matt stared out of the hospital window and brooded. He was going home today and should be elated. His recovery had been excellent, and in another week he would be back at work, getting his hands greasy again.
The door opened, and his mother and Luke walked in, smiling brightly.
‘All ready?’ Luke picked up his brother’s bag, stopping suddenly when he saw Matt scowl. ‘What’s the matter? Are they keeping you in after all?’
‘Why hasn’t Jenny been to see me or sent a message? Is she all right?’
‘Ah.’ Luke put the bag down again and glanced at his mother.
‘What does that mean?’ Matt glared at Luke. ‘What’s happened to her?’
‘She’s all right, Matt.’ Louise made her son sit on the bed. ‘But Ma died the day after you were injured, and Jenny didn’t want to upset you.’
‘Oh, dear God!’ Matt now understood. ‘She’ll be devastated.’
‘She is, my dear. She loved the elderly woman very much.’ She smiled encouragingly at her youngest son. ‘Now, I expect you’ll be glad to get out of this place.’
‘I certainly shall.’ Matt stood up. His heart ached for Jenny. This was another terrible blow for her. ‘When’s the funeral?’
‘Today at ten thirty at a church in Short Street, near The Cut.’
Matt glanced at his watch. ‘If we hurry we can just make it.’
‘Oh, but Matt,’ his mother protested, ‘Jenny wouldn’t expect you to go, and I’m not sure you’re strong enough —’
‘I’m fine,’ he said, stopping her. ‘I liked Ma and I’m going to her funeral!’
‘We’d better get a move on, then.’ Luke had obviously picked up the note o
f determination in his brother’s voice. ‘It’s a good thing we brought raincoats and an umbrella.’
After saying goodbye to the staff who had nursed him so carefully, they got in the car and Luke headed for the church without delay.
The service was under way by the time they arrived. Matt, Luke and their mother slipped into the back pew. The church was crowded, but Matt could just see Jenny in the front row, head bowed. He wanted to rush over to comfort her, to tell her that Ma had asked him to watch over her, and that he had every intention of keeping that promise.
Fortunately it stopped raining by the time they gathered around the graveside. It was while they were standing there that Matt became aware of how weak he still was. He swayed slightly and Luke caught hold of his arm, holding him up. Taking several deep breaths, he glanced quickly at his mother, but she didn’t seem to have noticed. He planted his feet slightly apart to steady himself; he was determined to see it through to the end of the service.
Finally it was over, and, as the coffin was lowered, he gave a silent assurance to Ma that he would do as she had wanted; it was also what he wanted.
‘Matthew.’ Jenny was beside him, her eyes swollen from crying. ‘Thank you all for coming.’ She gave them a tremulous smile. ‘Ma would have been pleased.’
Matt bent and kissed her cheek. ‘’I’m so sorry, Jen, but you should have told me.’
‘You had enough to deal with without more bad news. When did you get out of hospital?’
‘An hour ago,’ Luke said. ‘He thinks he’s stronger than he is.’
‘Oh, you must take him home at once, Mrs Stannard.’ Jenny looked anxious. ‘You shouldn’t have come.’
‘I wouldn’t have missed the chance to say goodbye to Ma. What are you going to do now?’ Matt was hoping to persuade her to live with them until she sorted her life out, but he knew this wasn’t the time to say that.
‘I haven’t given it much thought but I’ll stay at Ma’s house for a week or two. After that …’ She gave a helpless shrug.
‘I’ll come to see you as soon as I can.’ Matt watched her expression, expecting a refusal, but she merely nodded.
There wasn’t a chance to say anything else as Fred, Glad and the rest of the family came up to ask how he was. It was another ten minutes before he was back in the car and heading for home.
29
Friends and neighbours crowded into the small house, each bringing some item of food or drink so they could hold a proper wake for Ma. The day before, Jenny had made two cakes and had cried when they’d both risen beautifully, remembering her first effort that had collapsed in the middle. It was such a bitter-sweet memory.
‘That was good of Matt and his family to come.’ Glad was filling half-pint glasses with beer. ‘Ma would have liked that.’
Jenny stopped slicing the cake and put the knife down. ‘Do you believe there’s anything after this life, Glad?’
‘I don’t rightly know, but Ma was sure there was. She always said she’d be with her old man and Bessie again one day.’
‘Oh, I do hope she’s right.’ Jenny wiped the moisture from her eyes. ‘I would like to think I’ll meet Ma and my father again. My dad was such a gentle man, and I did love him so.’
‘I don’t see it does no harm to believe life goes on, especially if it gives folks comfort.’
‘You’re right, Glad. I expect it gave Ma comfort to believe she would see her little girl again.’
‘I think it did.’ Glad picked up the tray and winked at Jenny. ‘If it is true, then she’ll be waiting for you, asking where the hell you think you’ve been.’
Jenny laughed for the first time in a week.
An hour later everyone had gone except Fred and Glad.
‘Now, Jen’ – Fred leant on the mantelpiece, looking all businesslike – ‘have you decided what you’re going to do?’
This was something she had been avoiding, but it was now a decision she would have to make. The thought of moving on again was enough to make her heart sink. ‘I suppose I’ll have to find somewhere else to live.’
‘I think you ought to take over the rent of this place and stay here.’
Jenny gave Fred a startled look. ‘I wish I could, but how would I pay the rent? I couldn’t possibly afford to furnish a place of my own.’
‘I’m sure you could get a job at the centre, even if it’s only part time, and you could always get something to eat there.’ Glad smiled encouragingly. ‘It’s worth a try.’
How she wished she could stay in the house she had been so happy in with Ma …
‘It’s what Ma wanted you to do.’ Fred took a sheet of paper out of his pocket. ‘This is properly signed and Ma wrote it while she was in her right mind. She leaves the entire contents of this house to you, Jen. Ma’s even put your real name – Eugenie Winford – so there’s no mistaking who she means.’
‘This is all mine?’ Jenny’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. ‘But why me? There must be someone else it should go to, surely? She must have relatives somewhere.’
‘She ain’t got no one else, and she loved you, Jen,’ Glad said. ‘She wanted you to have a home after she’d gone. It ain’t much, but if you can manage the rent, it’ll be a place of your own and you won’t have to move on again.’
Jenny clasped her hands together tightly in relief, as it dawned on her that she needn’t move, providing she could find the rent each week. A place she could call home! Gratitude welled up inside her at Ma’s thoughtfulness. The idea that she could be homeless again had been scary. Now she wouldn’t have to face that ordeal. ‘I’ll get the rent somehow and stay here, just like Ma wanted.’
The night had been surprisingly restful for Jenny. She had slept only in snatches since the attack and Ma’s death, but seeing Matt at the funeral, and knowing that he cared enough to come straight from the hospital, had made her spirits soar. He had looked so tall, and, although still rather drawn, she could see he would soon be back to full health again. The relief had been immense, and when he’d smiled at her it had seemed as if a bond had been formed between them because of their shared experience.
She swung her legs out of bed and stood up, shivering in the cold early morning. Getting up at five had become a habit, one she couldn’t seem to break. Slipping her coat over the winceyette nightdress, she began to wander around the house, still hardly able to believe that this was now hers. By leaving her few possessions to Jenny, Ma had made it clear that she wanted her to have a place of her own amongst the people who had taken a frightened, homeless girl to their hearts.
Standing in the middle of the front room, she gazed around. When she had moved in with Ma more than a year ago, she’d had no idea how much they were going to love each other. How she missed her – but she knew that Ma’s illness had frustrated her and made her miserable. Her suffering was over now, and perhaps she was with her husband and daughter once again.
With a sad smile she ran her hand over the back of Ma’s favourite chair as she passed it on the way to the kitchen.
First she lit the old black leaded fire, and then put the kettle on to make a pot of tea. Once that was done she sat at the kitchen table. There were plans to make. Through Ma’s generosity she had the chance to make a life for herself here, and that was just what she intended to do!
A job was essential – not an easy task in these days of horrendous unemployment – but she was determined to find some way of earning money. She was sure Mrs Stannard would find her a job at the centre, but she didn’t want to do that if it could be avoided. She had caused that family enough trouble, and she would feel awful begging them for work. No, she must find something without their help, and she would start the search today. This might be the time to sell the pendant and that, hopefully, would give her a few weeks’ rent, and a breathing space to find work. Ma had always been against her selling the last reminder she had of her father, but Jenny didn’t think she would have objected in these circumstances.
She had be
en so lost in her plans that the tea she had poured was now cold; it was tipped away and another cup poured. This one she drank immediately. She wasn’t hungry yet and would get herself something to eat later.
Whatever Greaves had planned for her had gone disastrously wrong. Because the police had questioned him, she didn’t believe he would attempt anything else again. Nevertheless, it was terrifying to see what he was capable of. After his visit to Ma’s with her aunt she had been sure she wouldn’t see him again; it had been unwise to dismiss him so lightly. But he was probably a coward at heart, and having nearly been caught must have frightened him. She sincerely hoped it had scared the wits out of him!
Now that the kitchen was warmer, Jenny got washed and dressed, then cleared out the fire in the front room and laid it ready for lighting later in the day. She wouldn’t waste the coal, as she intended to be out most of the day.
There was a sharp rap on the front door, then it was pushed open and Fred looked in. ‘Morning, Jen. I thought you’d be up.’
‘Come in, Fred.’ Jenny stood up, wiping her dirty hands on her pinafore. She grinned when she saw how muffled he was: only his eyes and nose showed. There was a woollen scarf tied around his head and then wrapped around his neck, with his cap perched on the top of it. Woollen gloves and several layers of coats completed the picture. ‘You sure you’re going to be warm enough?’
He rubbed his hands together. ‘It’s bloody cold at Covent Garden this early in the morning. It’s more like February than the middle of December. Wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t snow for Christmas.’
‘Let’s hope it doesn’t.’ The thought of families living in icy rooms because they couldn’t afford to heat them worried Jenny.
‘I might have found you a job.’ Fred rubbed his nose, looking uncertain. ‘Only thing is, it’s out in the open, and if you ain’t used to it —’
‘I don’t care what it is, Fred.’ She led him into the kitchen, where it was warmer, eager to hear more about it. ‘I’ll take anything.’
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