MB03 - Sweet Rosie O’Grady

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by Joan Jonker


  Ellen walked home between her two neighbours, her mind and body shaking with shock and fear. ‘He must be ill,’ she said softly. ‘Either that or he’s done somethin’ bad an’ they’re going to move him.’

  ‘Whatever it is, Nobby Clarke can’t hurt yer no more, so just keep telling yerself that.’ Molly held the thin arm tighter. ‘We’ll go back to my house, have a cup of tea to calm yer down, then think about what to do.’

  But the tea didn’t have the desired effect. Instead of calming down, Ellen became more agitated. ‘I can’t go ’cos it costs a few bob to get to Warrington an’ I haven’t got it.’

  ‘We’ll help yer out, Ellen,’ Nellie said. ‘Me an’ Molly will lend yer the money.’

  ‘I’m not goin’!’ Ellen’s body was jerking as though she was being operated by strings. ‘Last time I was there, he went for me! He would have killed me if Corker hadn’t come between us.’ She looked pleadingly into Molly’s eyes. ‘I can’t go, Molly, I just can’t!’

  Molly sighed as she rubbed her forehead. ‘Yer’ll have to go, Ellen, ye’re still his wife an’ yer have no choice! The hospital wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of contactin’ yer if it wasn’t important, so whether yer like it or not, yer’ve got to go.’

  ‘Then come with me, Molly, please? I couldn’t go on me own, I’m absolutely terrified of him.’

  Molly glanced at the clock. ‘It’s eleven o’clock. Would we be back before Ruthie gets home from school?’

  ‘I don’t know, Molly! I don’t know what they want me for!’ The tears were rolling unchecked down Ellen’s face. ‘All I know is I’m not goin’ on me own. The place itself puts the fear of God into me, never mind havin’ to face Nobby.’ She doubled up, her thin arms clasped around her slim waist. ‘Oh, if only Corker were here, he’d know what to do.’

  ‘Well he ain’t here, Ellen, so yer’d better buck yer ideas up.’ Molly didn’t like being sharp with her neighbour, but right now it was the only way. Left to herself, Ellen would go to pieces and do nothing. ‘If Nellie will keep an eye out for Ruthie, in case we’re not back in time, I’ll come with yer.’

  ‘Oh thanks, Molly! I don’t know what I’d do without yer; a real friend yer are.’

  ‘Right, take that bloody overall off and get in the kitchen and swill yer face. And stop yer cryin’, for God’s sake! I’m not sittin’ on the bus with yer if ye’re goin’ to make a holy show of me.’

  ‘Yer can do that yerself, without any help, can’t yer, girl?’ Nellie tried to lighten the situation. ‘In fact I’d say yer were an expert at it.’

  ‘Shut yer face, sunshine, or I’ll shut it for yer.’ Molly gave her a wink. ‘It’s about time someone put yer in yer place.’

  ‘Lots of people have said that!’ Nellie’s chubby face creased. ‘Nobody’s ever done it though. And d’yer know why I think that is, girl? ’Cos they’d need a crane to do it, and yer don’t see many of them round our way.’

  There was an improvement in Ellen when she came back in from the kitchen. A rinse under the cold water tap had cleared her mind and she felt more in control of her emotions. But it was knowing Molly was coming with her that really bucked her up. ‘What about money? I’ve only got about two shillings.’

  ‘Let’s empty our purses on the table and see how much we’ve got between us. If it’s not enough, I’ll ask Maisie to help out until pay day.’ Molly pressed the clip on her well-worn purse. ‘And you can dig deep in yer pockets, Nellie McDonough, ’cos I can tell by the way they sag that yer keep money in them.’

  ‘You cheeky sod! What about the pocket in me knickers? D’yer want to have a feel to see if I’m hiding some loot in there?’

  Molly wrinkled her nose. ‘Touch your knickers? No thanks, I’ll walk all the way to Warrington before I’ll do that.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  Molly felt someone walk over her grave as she watched the man in the white coat lock the door behind them. The place was dreary enough to give you the willies without being locked in. Glancing down the corridors running either side of the massive door, she shivered again. It was certainly a bleak place, more like a prison than a hospital. She could understand now why Ellen was reluctant to come on her own. Molly wasn’t easily scared, but right now she was feeling very apprehensive. She felt sorry for the people in there because, God knows, they couldn’t help the way they were. As her mother would say, ‘There but for the grace of God go I,’ and it was true.

  ‘I’ll take you to the doctor, Mrs Clarke, he wants to have a word with you.’ The man clipped the key on to the bunch hanging from a belt around his waist. ‘Follow me, please.’

  Molly linked her arm through Ellen’s as they turned left and set off down the corridor. Her neighbour was as white as a sheet, her eyes staring straight ahead and her lips quivering. ‘Don’t worry, kid, it’ll soon be over an’ we’ll be on our way home.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Is he a doctor?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ Ellen had more worrying things on her mind than the man walking in front of them. Something really bad must have happened for them to send for her. Had Nobby attacked and hurt someone? She’d had plenty of experience over the years to know how violent her husband could be. Hadn’t she been a punch-bag for him since the day they got married? And the way he’d gone for her the last time she was here had taught her that, even confined to a wheelchair, Nobby Clarke was a dangerous man. She turned to Molly and there was a catch in her voice as she begged, ‘Yer won’t leave me, will yer, Molly?’

  ‘Of course I won’t leave yer.’

  They passed several closed doors before the man stopped outside one and motioned for them to wait. Then he knocked, opened the door, and they could hear the deference in his voice when he announced, ‘Mrs Clarke is here to see you, sir.’

  Ellen was rooted to the spot and Molly had to propel her forward and through the door. The man sitting behind the desk rose to his feet and extended a hand. ‘I’m Dr Jefferson, Mrs Clarke.’

  If Molly hadn’t been there to push on her elbow, Ellen would never have shaken the man’s hand. She was literally numb with fear.

  ‘Sit down, please, Mrs Clarke.’ He looked towards Molly. ‘And Mrs … ?’

  ‘I’m a neighbour of Ellen’s – me name’s Molly Bennett, Doctor.’

  Wearing a dark grey suit with a white shirt and sombre grey tie, the doctor had the bearing of someone in authority. He was probably in his sixties, slim, with thinning white hair and blue eyes. ‘How long is it since you saw your husband, Mrs Clarke?’

  Looking down at her clasped hands, Ellen’s voice was barely audible. ‘It’s a long time, probably four months.’

  Molly groaned inwardly. He’d make mincemeat of Ellen because she wouldn’t stick up for herself, wouldn’t explain her side of it. I mean, on the face of it, it did sound bad that she hadn’t been to visit her husband in months. But for anyone who knew the circumstances and the life Ellen had had to put up with, well that was a different kettle of fish altogether. ‘Mrs Clarke has a full time job, Doctor. She’s got her work cut out with four children to keep, and she has to work.’

  ‘I understand, Mrs Bennett. My question wasn’t meant as a criticism.’ His face softened when he smiled. ‘I can appreciate that Mrs Clarke hasn’t had an easy life. The only reason I asked was because over the last few months there has been a great deterioration in her husband’s condition. He is now a very sick man and therefore we felt it was our duty to inform the next of kin.’

  ‘Sick?’ Ellen’s eyes were wide in her thin face. ‘I know Nobby’s sick in his head, that’s why he’s here, but I don’t think yer mean that, do yer?’

  ‘No.’ The doctor shook his head. ‘Your husband’s mental state has nothing to do with his illness. But what that illness is I can’t tell you because it has my colleagues and myself baffled. We can find nothing wrong with Mr Clarke, no medical reason for his deterioration.’

  ‘That’s funny, isn’t it, Doctor?’ Molly said. ‘There must be somethin’ w
rong with him.’

  ‘Nothing that we can find, Mrs Bennett, and we’ve had specialists in to see him who are as baffled as ourselves. Mr Clarke simply refused to get out of bed one day and also refused food. Because he often had dark moods, the staff at that time weren’t unduly worried. But when it carried on, day after day, he was taken along to the medical wing for tests. When the tests showed there was nothing wrong with him, I ordered him to be fed by the staff. This proved impossible because he simply pushed the food, and the staff, away. We then tried to drip-feed him, but as soon as he was connected to the drip, he pulled it out.’ Dr Jefferson met Ellen’s eyes. ‘I don’t need to tell you how strong your husband was when in one of his violent moods; he had the strength of ten men. Sedating him so he could be force-fed was out of the question because he wouldn’t allow anyone near him.’

  ‘Stubborn bugger!’ Molly thought her voice was so low it wouldn’t travel to the other side of the wide desk, but when she saw a smile flicker across the man’s face she knew he’d heard. ‘Excuse me language, Doctor, but it just slipped out.’

  ‘That’s all right, Mrs Bennett, it’s an expression that often slips out of my own mouth.’ He looked almost boyish when he smiled. ‘There’s a lot of them around, aren’t there?’

  Molly smiled back. What a nice man he was! ‘There certainly are,’ she said, ‘and accordin’ to my husband, I’m the biggest one of them all.’

  Ellen was impatient; couldn’t understand how these two could smile when she was worried stiff. ‘So how is he now, Doctor?’

  ‘We are managing to get him to take liquids, but he steadfastly refuses solids and is getting weaker by the day.’ Dr Jefferson was silent for a while, his eyes fixed on an ink blot on the desk. Then he gave a long sigh and looked up. ‘This is only my opinion, Mrs Clarke, and I can’t prove it, but I think your husband has just given up. He is tired of living and has made up his mind to opt out.’

  Ellen gasped. ‘Nobby wouldn’t do that!’

  The doctor shrugged his shoulders. ‘I said it was only my opinion.’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ Ellen wailed, ‘I feel bad now, not comin’ to see him for such a long time.’ She turned tearful eyes on Molly. ‘I should ’ave come, Molly, he is still me husband.’

  Molly knew words of sympathy were expected but she couldn’t utter them. She couldn’t be so hypocritical. ‘He was yer husband when he was actin’ the big man every night, standin’ in the pub with his cronies. Spending money like water, knocking pints of ale back until he was pie-eyed, while his wife and kids huddled together to keep warm, their bellies empty. He was yer husband when he backed the gee-gees every day and came home to beat his wife up when his horse didn’t win an’ he was skint. And on the days when yer were too ashamed to leave the house because yer face was black and blue, wasn’t it your husband who had done that?’

  Molly closed her eyes and sighed. Perhaps it wasn’t up to her to say those things, even if they were true. But someone had to remind Ellen of the reality of being married to Nobby Clarke, or she’d spend the rest of her life feeling guilty. ‘He was a lousy husband and a lousy father, Ellen, and yer’d be lying if yer said otherwise.’

  Ellen met Molly’s eyes briefly before letting her head drop. ‘Me friend’s right, Doctor, he made my life hell. And the children, they were terrified of him.’

  ‘Mrs Clarke, you have nothing to reproach yourself for,’ the doctor told her kindly. ‘Every staff member, myself included, found your husband to be a bullying, violent man. It was impossible to get through to him, even to hold a conversation. He rejected all offers of kindness or help. In fact, any overtures made by the staff would send him into a rage. So you see, we do have some idea of the life you had with him.’

  ‘I did try to be a good wife, Doctor.’ Ellen was once more near to tears. ‘God knows I did my best, but nothing I did was right.’

  ‘You did more than I would ’ave done,’ Molly was moved to say. ‘I wouldn’t have put up with Nobby Clarke for fifteen minutes, let alone fifteen years.’

  ‘Well all that is in the past now, and you must make a new life for yourself and your children.’ Dr Jefferson leaned his elbows on the desk. ‘Do you want to see your husband?’

  Ellen turned to Molly. ‘What shall I do, Molly?’

  ‘You’ll have to see him, otherwise yer’d never live with yerself,’ Molly said. ‘I’ll come with yer.’

  ‘I’ll get the nurse to take you.’ The doctor pushed his chair back and stood up. ‘You will see a great difference in your husband, so be prepared.’ He smiled as he held his hand out. ‘I will no doubt see you again in the near future but, in the meantime, if you want any help or information, please don’t hesitate to contact me.’

  Outside, the male nurse was leaning against the wall facing the door, but he jumped to attention when Dr Jefferson appeared. ‘Kindly take Mrs Clarke to see her husband, and stay with her until she’s ready to leave.’ He patted Ellen’s arm as she passed and then smiled at Molly. ‘You can stay with her.’ There was a message in his eyes that was as clear as if he had spoken the words aloud. Ellen was going to need someone to lean on.

  Once again they were following the nurse down the corridor, Molly’s hand gripping Ellen’s elbow. ‘It won’t be long now, sunshine.’

  But even Molly was shocked into silence when they approached the iron bed with rails on both sides. There’s been some mistake, she thought, that’s never Nobby Clarke! The man lying in the bed was just a bag of bones with eyes sunken deep in his head. His skin had a grey tinge to it, and what little hair he had was pure white.

  Molly glanced at the nurse standing on the opposite side of the bed, and he seemed to be reading her mind because he nodded before saying, ‘Your husband probably won’t recognize you, Mrs Clarke.’

  Ellen gasped in horror before putting a hand over her mouth. She had prepared herself for a shock, but nothing could have prepared her for this. And when the wizened face on the pillow turned colourless, vacant eyes on her, she couldn’t keep the tears back, and turned to find Molly’s open arms ready to embrace her.

  ‘He didn’t deserve this, Molly,’ Ellen cried, a picture of the old Nobby in her mind as she remembered him … tall, well built and with a mop of dark hair. ‘No matter how bad he was, he didn’t deserve this.’

  Molly patted her back as she would have a baby’s. ‘No, he didn’t,’ she said soothingly. ‘But I think the doctor is right, this is what Nobby wants. And if it is, who are we to judge? Since the day he walked in front of that tramcar he hasn’t really been living, just existing.’

  The nurse moved quickly towards the bed, his action causing the two women to jump apart. ‘What is it?’ Molly asked, fearing the worst.

  ‘Mr Clarke seems to be trying to say something.’ The man was looking at the figure in the bed with surprise on his face. ‘He hasn’t spoken for weeks, but look – what’s he trying to say?’

  Ellen hung back, afraid that even at death’s door Nobby would still have the power to hurt her. ‘You go an’ see, Molly.’

  ‘No, sunshine, you go.’ Molly moved behind her and pushed her towards the bed. Then she whispered in her ear, ‘Look at him, Ellen, for God’s sake. If yer don’t, yer’ll regret it for the rest of yer life.’

  Ellen had to force herself to look down at the skeletal face, knowing it would haunt her for ever. ‘Hello, Nobby.’

  The colourless lips moved several times, then as soft as a leaf touching the ground, they heard the name ‘Corker’.

  As though the effort had been too much, Nobby closed his eyes. Ellen, gripping the safety rail, turned wide eyes on Molly.

  ‘Did yer hear that? He said “Corker”!’

  ‘I know, I heard him.’ Molly bent to look between the bars of the rail. ‘Quick, he’s trying to say somethin’ else.’

  Ellen’s heart filled with compassion when she glanced down at the man who had been her husband for fifteen years. They’d been bad years, but they were in the past now and best for
gotten. And looking at him now she was filled with pity. ‘Yes, Nobby?’

  ‘Corker.’ Nobby ran his tongue over lips dry and cracked. ‘Good … for … you … and … the … children.’ Then the effort proved too much and his eyes closed as his head fell sideways.

  ‘Oh, my God!’ Molly gasped, looking across at the nurse. ‘Has he gone?’

  The nurse shook his head. ‘He’s like this all the time, drifting in and out of sleep. Those are the first words he’s uttered in God knows how long, and they must have drained him of what little strength he had.’ He made a movement with his head. ‘I think you should leave now, he won’t waken again for some time.’

  But Ellen didn’t move. She knew her husband was close to death and this would be the last time she would see him alive. She felt no love for him – he’d killed that many years ago. But she did feel pity and forgiveness, and she wanted him to know that all the anger and hatred she had harboured was now gone. So, standing on tiptoe, she reached across the bar and touched his face. Stroking it gently, she said, ‘I’m goin’ now, Nobby. I’ll tell the kids you were askin’ about them and send them your love. Ta-ra, and God bless.’

  Molly couldn’t stop the tears and they rolled down her face unchecked. She never thought the day would come when she’d feel sorry for Nobby Clarke, but you would have to be made of stone not to feel pity for him now. She brushed at the tears with the back of her hand, watching the moving scene through a blur. Ellen, always quiet and timid, wouldn’t say boo to a goose, was now showing a strength of character that filled Molly with admiration. She wondered whether, if she’d been in her neighbour’s shoes, she would have been able to handle the delicate situation with the same dignity and compassion.

  ‘Come on, Molly, it’s time to go.’ Ellen linked her arm through Molly’s and they followed the nurse out of the small ward. No tears flowed from her eyes now: she felt a peace and contentment she hadn’t felt for a very long time. On his deathbed, Nobby had set her free. And no matter what the future held in store for her, she would always remember and be grateful to him for that.

 

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