A Sister's War

by Molly Green

  Ronnie jumped down the steps into the cabin, surprised to see only Dora sitting at the fold-out table, puffing away on her revolting pipe.

  Dora looked up. ‘Have yer got the post, miss?’

  ‘Yes, it’s all here.’ She handed Dora the package.

  Dora immediately ripped it open and drew out a small pile of envelopes held together with an elastic band. She held out the bundle.

  ‘Sort out any for here,’ she said, ‘and I’ll take the rest of ’em back ter the motor.’

  Ronnie extracted two envelopes for herself, happy to see one from Suzy and one from her friend Lois, and also two for Jess. None for Angela.

  ‘Where is everyone?’ she asked.

  ‘I told ’em I wanted a few minutes with yer on my own,’ Dora said.

  Now what?

  ‘I never thought you’d make it as a boater,’ Dora continued, ‘you bein’ so fresh-faced. But I don’t hear no complaints when yer workin’ in the freezin’ cold, nor the work which is mucky and heavy, and no complaints neither from the other wenches – well, ’cept one.’ She actually gave Ronnie one of her grins.

  That’d be Angela. Ronnie felt her skin prickle.

  ‘And I bin watchin’ how yer carry out what I tell yer to do, and it’s good enough fer me.’

  Praise indeed, Ronnie thought, a warm glow stealing through her body.

  ‘Thank you, Miss Dummitt—’

  A loud banging on the side of the boat made Ronnie jump.

  ‘Drat them girls. I told ’em I wanted a bit o’ peace,’ Dora grumbled. Ronnie hid a smile. It was usually the way Dora announced herself. Dora opened the hatch to a funnel of cold air. ‘Oh, not again!’

  ‘Sorry to disturb, ma’am. May I come in?’

  Ronnie startled as a policeman stepped into the cabin. He removed his cap to reveal a shock of iron-grey hair and gave a short nod of acknowledgement to her. Dora glared at him.

  ‘I’m gettin’ a little tired of the police turnin’ up night and day with no warnin’,’ she said, her voice sour. ‘What’s it this time, officer?’

  ‘Inspector Jackson.’ He showed his card. ‘Are you Dora Dummitt?’

  ‘Miss Dummitt, to you,’ she flashed.

  ‘I believe you’re the trainer for the boatwomen.’

  ‘What of it?’

  ‘I’m enquiring after a Miss Linfoot.’

  Dear God, not again.

  Dora kept her attention on him. ‘On what grounds are you enquirin’ after her?’

  ‘Suspicion of involvement in a black-marketing ring.’

  ‘Nonsense.’ Dora took a puff of her pipe. ‘I know where my trainees are at all times and I can assure you, officer, they none of ’em have time ter be in black-marketin’ rings neither any other rings. I work them too hard and too long – so it’s impossible. Stealin’ and sellin’ stuff has bin goin’ on long before these wenches arrived on the cut – and yer know it full well.’

  He glanced at Ronnie, then back to Dora.

  ‘Is this young lady Miss Veronica Linfoot by any chance?’

  ‘I’m Véronique Linfoot, yes,’ Ronnie cut in, annoyed with the anglicised version of her name. ‘And I’ve already said all I know when the police came to my house.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve read that report. But I’m not entirely satisfied. So I’d like you to come with me to the station to help with our enquiries. Just routine, you understand.’

  ‘No, I don’t understand at all.’ Dora stood up indignantly, her pipe falling to the floor with the vehemence of her words. ‘You don’t need to be takin’ her anywheres.’

  ‘I’m afraid we do.’ The inspector’s tone was firm. ‘It shouldn’t take long.’

  Ronnie swallowed hard, Sergeant Stanford’s last words in front of Maman and Raine reverberating in her eardrums: that’ll be all – for the moment. She forced herself to look him in the eye. ‘I told the police all I know when they came to my house,’ she repeated. ‘You can’t arrest me. I’m innocent.’

  He put his hand up to silence her.

  ‘I’m not arresting you – we just need you for further questioning.’

  ‘No. I won’t go. I haven’t done anything.’ Ronnie’s mind flew in all directions, trying to take in what he was saying. ‘Ask Constable Scott – he knows me. He knows I don’t know anything about black-marketing or stolen goods or anything. He and Sergeant Sandford already came to see Miss Dummitt and all us girls and inspected the boats.’ She blinked to stop herself from bursting into tears. ‘Oh, please talk to Mi … Constable Scott.’

  He looked at her. ‘How old are you, miss?’

  ‘Seventeen.’

  ‘Then you’ll need to be accompanied by an adult.’ He turned to Dora. ‘If you wouldn’t mind going with her, Miss Dummitt, we’ll be on our way.’

  ‘Now?’ Dora raised both bushy eyebrows.

  ‘Yes. I have the car and we can get you there and back in no time.’

  Dora puffed at her pipe, her head tilted, as though considering whether she should go or not.

  ‘I could ask Jess,’ Ronnie said in a small voice, dreading Dora going with her.

  ‘Jess?’ Dora glared down at her. ‘She in’t your trainer. No, miss, I’m the one ter go with you. It in’t no use to be arguin’. We need to get this cleared up once and fer all so’s we can let go termorrer mornin’ for Bull’s Bridge. So we best be on our way.’

  At least she kept her ear to the ground, Ronnie consoled herself, and always knew what was going on along the canals. And Deadly Dora wasn’t intimidated by anyone – least of all the police.

  Ronnie sat with Dora, her chin buried in her scarf, in the back seat of the police car. At least it was warm. At the request of the inspector, Dora had put her pipe out and was fidgeting with her hair, grasping one stray yellow curl, then another, and pushing them back under her cloth cap. Every so often Ronnie gave her a sideways glance but Dora stared straight ahead, her mouth moving as though still puffing on her pipe.

  Ronnie felt a cold sweat seeping into her vest as she thought of the two of them in an interview room and tried to cling on to the fact that they had nothing on her. She hadn’t done anything. But had Will?

  In a daze she gave her name at the counter and followed the inspector and Dora along a short dark corridor. He opened a door at the far end and gestured for Dora to go in.

  ‘Ah, Miss Dummitt. Please take a seat.’

  That was Michael’s voice! Ronnie’s heart soared. Everything would be all right. He would explain everything and get this mess sorted out.

  She stepped into a room no bigger than their front room at home. She noticed the blackout curtains had already been pulled, and a solitary bulb hanging from the ceiling wasn’t giving out much light. The room was bare of any niceties. A steel filing cabinet stood like a sentry at one side of the door, there were a couple of overhead cupboards and a few hardback chairs scattered around a large central table.

  Michael came towards her. ‘Miss Linfoot, would you like to sit by Miss Dummitt?’

  She gave him a half smile but there was no smile in return. Not even a hint. For a moment she was dumbstruck. Then she realised. Of course he couldn’t allow himself to show any kind of favouritism. He was on official duty and wouldn’t want it to be known that they had shared something much more than a few routine conversations. She took a deep breath.

  Inspector Jackson nodded to Michael to be seated, then took the fourth chair. He began to shuffle some papers, then looked across the table at Dora.

  ‘May I have your full name, Miss Dummitt?’

  ‘Dora Edith Maisie Gladys Dummitt.’

  ‘Have you ever been known by any other name?’

  ‘Them’s enough names fer anyone, I reckon,’ Dora said, with a wry twist of her lips.

  ‘Dora Edith Maisie—’ The inspector spoke the names as he began to write, then looked up. ‘What was that last one?’

  ‘Gladys.’

  ‘Oh, yes. Dora Edith Maisie Gladys Dummitt. You’re sure th
at’s it?’

  Dora threw the inspector a frosty look. ‘I oughta be sure of me own names, though what that’s got ter do with you, or Ver-ron-eek, I can’t imagine.’ She fumbled in her bag and extracted her pipe.

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Dummitt, it’s no smoking in the interview room,’ Michael said, sounding apologetic.

  Dora rolled her eyes and tutted but put the pipe back in her bag.

  ‘We’ve called Miss Linfoot in for some further questioning, Miss Dummitt, about this black-marketing ring, and in particular, her relationship with William Drake, but I’ll get back to you in a few moments.’

  Dora’s eyes flew wide. ‘So that’s what this is all about,’ she said. ‘That young rogue, Will Drake.’ She glared at both policemen. ‘Well, Ver-ron-eek here don’t have nothin’ ter do with him.’

  Ronnie didn’t dare look at Michael. How embarrassing that he was sitting opposite, his eyes intently watching her.

  ‘Go ahead, Miss Linfoot,’ the inspector said.

  ‘I-um-I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘How well do you know William Drake?’

  ‘Not very well.’

  ‘How often have you met him?’

  ‘I don’t meet him,’ Ronnie said indignantly. ‘I’ve just bumped into him a few times, but only since I’ve been training on the boats. Miss Dummitt will verify it.’

  Out of the corner of her eye, Ronnie saw Dora’s features harden and her hands grip the sides of the chair.

  ‘Is that correct, Miss Dummitt?’

  Dora nodded. ‘She wouldn’ta known him before then – I can vouch for that.’

  ‘How can you be so certain?’

  ‘She don’t mix with his sort. She’s from a good family and they in’t from this neck of the woods.’

  ‘What did you talk about on the occasions when you “bumped into him”?’ the inspector said, looking at Ronnie and emphasising the bumping in.

  ‘He helped me prepare one of the locks once, and he gave me a lift on his motorbike when I went to the village shop one morning and was running late.’

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘He brought us food the other day – not just for me but for all of us. It was very thoughtful of him.’

  ‘Were there any luxury foods that you never see now in the grocery shops?’

  She swallowed. Mustn’t mention the bacon and marmalade. After all, they’d all enjoyed the unexpected treats even though Jess remained suspicious as to how he came by them.

  ‘I didn’t notice anything.’

  ‘Cigarettes?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Hmm.’ The inspector stroked his jaw. ‘But he regarded you as his girlfriend, did he not?’

  ‘No, I didn’t say that,’ Ronnie blurted, her face getting hot. Michael was staring at her as though he could tell the way Will had kissed her that time.

  ‘And he never mentioned he could get you items such as stockings?’

  You let me know if you want some nylons. It’s not just the Yanks that can get ’em.

  Ronnie bit her lip hard.

  ‘Well?’ The inspector’s eyes bored into hers.

  ‘I think he did mention something once about stockings but I just laughed and said where would I wear them when I’m working on the canals all day.’

  ‘I see.’ The inspector rose and went to the cupboard. ‘And you say you’ve never seen this camera found in the saddlebag of your bicycle?’ He set it in front of her.

  ‘No, I’d never seen it before until Sergeant Sandford showed it to me when I was at home.’

  ‘That’s correct,’ Michael said. ‘It was all in the report, sir.’

  ‘I know. I have it here,’ the inspector said impatiently. ‘But the note tucked in with the camera and initialled W.D. sounds to me as though young Will thinks of you as his girlfriend.’

  ‘Well, I’m not,’ Ronnie snapped. ‘I’ve never even been on a date with him and he’ll tell you the same.’

  Don’t look at Michael even though he’s watching me.

  ‘We’ve already spoken to him,’ Inspector Jackson said.

  Ronnie saw Dora’s back stiffen.

  ‘He said he bought the camera and wanted to give it to you but you were away, and one of the trainees told him to just leave it in your saddlebag.’ He paused. ‘I think that makes you his girlfriend, doesn’t it? Giving someone an expensive camera looks to me like he knows you quite well – even knows you’re interested in photography. Doesn’t that prove he considers you his girlfriend?’

  Ronnie shook her head.

  ‘He said you’d asked for a camera … for your birthday.’

  She stiffened. ‘I said nothing of the kind.’

  Why had he lied?

  ‘The camera was part of a haul of stolen goods,’ the inspector said, ‘and Will Drake has admitted he stole several of the items along with the camera. He had to confess. We had more than enough evidence.’

  Shock waves bounced up and down Ronnie’s spine. Will was a common criminal. She shifted in the hard chair and gave Michael a surreptitious glance. He was scribbling in a notebook. Well, the inspector had certainly made it clear Will was not to be trusted. Her glance strayed towards Michael’s mouth. She fancied she could still feel the touch of his lips when he’d kissed her after the dance and told her she was beautiful. And now their next meeting was taking place in this horrible room. And he wasn’t saying anything to stick up for her.

  The inspector looked across at Dora. ‘Not only were the goods stolen but we also have evidence he’s mixed up in this black-marketing ring and we want to know who else is involved. It’s not a pleasant situation for a young girl to be in so I’d be grateful, Miss Dummitt, if you’d answer a few questions.’

  Dora looked back without blinking.

  The inspector cleared his throat. ‘Miss Dummitt. I believe you know Will Drake. Is that correct?’

  ‘I’ve seen him around, same’s I have all the other boat folk.’ Dora’s tone was curt.

  ‘But he doesn’t work on the boats, so how is it that you know him?’

  Dora’s expression was stony.

  The inspector waited. ‘Miss Dummitt?’ He paused, then said very deliberately, ‘Or do I mean Mrs Drake?’

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The room fell into shocked silence. Her jaw slack, Ronnie twisted her head to look at Dora.

  Mrs Drake? Good gracious – Dora must be Will’s auntie!

  ‘Is that correct?’ the inspector demanded. ‘You’re Mrs Drake, are you not?’

  Dora stared at him. ‘Yes,’ she stated loud and clear.

  ‘And you are Will Drake’s mother?’

  Ronnie almost fell off her chair. Will’s mother! It couldn’t be. No one looked or acted less like a mother than Dora. She felt Michael’s gaze on her as though to see how she was taking this news. There was another pause. Then Dora answered.

  ‘That’s it.’

  ‘You are confirming William Drake is your son? Please answer yes or no.’

  ‘I told yer, didn’t I?’

  ‘And his father is Leonard Drake? Is that correct?’

  ‘It looks like it, don’t it?’

  The inspector gave a deep sigh. ‘And are you in contact with Mr Drake?’

  Dora’s head jerked. ‘Him,’ she spat. ‘I haven’t a clue where he is. We in’t no longer wed, s’far as I’m concerned. He never was no cop—’ She broke off with a snort. ‘Sorry, that sounds funny sayin’ that in a police station. Anyway,’ she went on, ‘he were always in and out of jail. Treated me like dirt once he got what he wanted. Lied ter get his own way. Bullied me if he didn’t. And Will’s off the same block as the old man – goin’ exactly the same way. Never would listen ter me. In and out of reform school from eleven. I couldn’t never control him. At fourteen he were as tall as any man, always stealin’ from my purse, mixin’ with a load o’ bad uns, breakin’ inter houses and worse. When I threatened ter go ter the police he hit me.’

  Ronnie gasped.


  ‘The second time he did it he put me in hospital. That were when I told him he weren’t no son of mine and I didn’t care if I never set eyes on him again.’ Dora blew out her cheeks. ‘No wonder the name “Drake” turns my stomach.’

  She looked at the two policemen. ‘But I can tell yer for a start, Ver-ron-eek here is innocent. She in’t involved in no black-marking, nor stolen goods, nor nothin’ like it. Yer barkin’ up the wrong tree.’ She took out her pipe again. ‘I’m lightin’ up, so don’t go saying it’s agin the rules. I need this for me nerves.’

  Ronnie saw the inspector give a slight nod to Michael who produced a lighter.

  Dora shook her head. ‘No, I’ll use me matches, if yer don’t mind. The lighter’ll burn the baccy.’ She struck a match and lit it, then gave a few puffs to get it going. ‘That’s better – so where was we? Oh, yes. No, Ver-ron-eek in’t done no receivin’ of stolen goods, nor nothin’ like.’ She scowled at the two policemen. ‘And don’t go pinnin’ nothin’ on me neither. I’ve always bin as straight as a bloody pub dart. Len Drake put me in jail for twelve months in my young days when I were blinkered about him, him tellin’ the cops I were his accomplice even though I had nothin’ to do with his bleedin’ crooked deals. Never mind that I already had a kiddie – that were Will. I were lucky my friend Dolly took him in. I tell you somethin’,’ – she sent the inspector a fierce look – ‘I never want ter see the inside of that miserable place again so I won’t be riskin’ my skin ter be locked up at the King’s pleasure.’

  By now, Dora’s face was red with fury and frustration.

  Inspector Jackson nodded. ‘I believe we have all the information we need,’ he said, putting a hand lightly on Dora’s shoulder, which to Ronnie’s admiration she promptly shook off. ‘Constable, take Miss Dummitt and Miss Linfoot back to the boats.’

  ‘So yer sayin’ we’re free ter go, Inspector?’

  ‘You are.’

  ‘That were quick.’ Dora narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Seems yer knew all along all the answers to them questions.’

  Inspector Jackson actually broke into a half smile. ‘Perhaps we did, but we have to make certain,’ he said, turning to Michael who’d risen to his feet. ‘You’ve got William Drake’s report, Constable?’