by Rosie Clarke
Chapter 16
Beth looked around Bernie’s study, her gaze lingering here and there as she tried to discover the most likely hiding place, but she’d searched everywhere and she was beginning to think there was nothing to hide. The only place she hadn’t managed to look was in locked drawer of her husband’s desk. She hadn’t found the key, so Bernie probably kept it in his pocket, perhaps on his watch chain.
Beth decided to try forcing the drawer open. Perhaps she could break the lock carefully so that he wouldn’t notice. She picked up the strong paperknife and wedged it into the crack above the drawer, pressing against the metal lock with all her strength. When it wouldn’t give, she looked round for something heavy and then banged the knife into the opening as hard as she could. The old wood split, making a crack through the drawer, and Beth gasped in horror because she would never be able to hide that. It made it all the more imperative that she found something to use against him – and soon. She thrust the spike at the end of the knife into the lock itself and turned and heard it crack and finally she was in.
Tentatively opening the drawer, Beth saw some notebooks lying on top of a bulky envelope. She took the books out and opened them, running her finger down columns of figures in the first book and then a list of girls’ names in the second. Beth wasn’t quite sure if this proved her theory about the brothels, but when she opened the large envelope and saw that it was stuffed with five pound notes, she knew that she’d discovered Bernie’s secret hoard of ill-gotten gains. Whatever he was doing, he would never keep so much cash in the desk if it was legally earned. It had to have come from whatever nasty little business he was running on the side.
Beth took everything out and put it on the desk. She had to think fast, because Bernie would be back in an hour or so – and when he saw his desk he was going to be very angry. She came to a hasty decision and stuffed the books and money into the large envelope and wrote her name care of Lizzie’s home address. Then she went round the study like a whirlwind, pulling down things from the shelf so that vases smashed and books and papers were strewn everywhere. She did the same in her bedroom and the sitting room, then she grabbed the twins and the money and left the house, swiftly wheeling the pram down the path.
Beth stopped at the post office and sent the letter to Lizzie’s house. Her nape tingled with fear. If she wasn’t home when Bernie returned, he might just believe that an intruder had broken into the house and taken what was in his desk – and the best way to convince him was to visit her mother and ask her father to take her home later after she’d eaten with her family.
Beth was shaking inside, but she was glad she’d done it. She would let Lizzie know to hold on to the packet for her until she was ready and when she was sure just what it all meant, she might have a hold over Bernie that would force him to let her go…
*
Beth’s father drove her home that evening. He’d been surprised but pleased to see her sitting feeding the twins scrambled egg and bread and butter when he got in. He insisted that he would take her home when she pretended she hadn’t realized the time and Beth was comforted by his solid bulk beside her on the journey back to her husband’s house.
The lights were on in every room as they pulled up and Beth trembled inside. Her father looked at her as he helped her get the children from the van and she opened the front door. He entered with her, gazing about him in a puzzled way as Bernie came charging into the hall, clearly furious.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ he demanded and then halted as he saw her father.
‘I went to visit Mum and forgot the time,’ Beth said. ‘What’s the matter – why are all the lights on?’
‘We’ve been burgled,’ Bernie said grimly. ‘They’ve made a mess in most of the rooms – and my desk has been ransacked…’
‘You’d better take the children up, love,’ Beth’s father said, handing the little girl to Beth. ‘I’ll help Bernie have a look round and see what damage has been done.’
‘Did they take anything important?’ Beth had to ask, though she trembled inside, but her husband seemed to have accepted her excuse.
‘Something important to me,’ he said. ‘Money I was puttin’ by for a nice holiday for you and the kids – and a few other bits…’
Beth nodded, her heart beating so fast she hardly dared to look at him for fear he should see through her act. Escaping upstairs while her father and Bernie continued to search the house, Beth wondered how long she would get away with her crime and what he would do if he ever discovered what she’d done.
*
Bernie was sullen all evening. He started grumbling at her the minute her father left, accusing her of going out and leaving a window open upstairs. Beth had opened it a crack deliberately, because the thief had to have a way of getting in, and it was better to let him think she’d been careless that have him know that she’d stolen from him. Her husband continued to blame her as he ate the spam fritters and chips with tinned peas that she gave him for his supper; of course that wasn’t right either, and Beth expected his temper to get worse as the evening went on, but at nine o’clock he told her he was going out.
‘I’ll be late back. I’ll take my key, so don’t put the bolts on the front door. Don’t worry if you don’t hear me come in.’
Beth nodded. She wouldn’t worry if he never came back, but she did wonder where he was going, though she knew better than to ask. Was he going to visit one of his houses? She felt a little sick at the thought but pleased that she’d outwitted him so far. He might work it out in the end, but that would be her chance to tell him that she wouldn’t put up with his temper anymore…
Beth didn’t hear her husband return, and in the morning when she got up to make breakfast he wasn’t in the kitchen getting ready for work; his bed hadn’t been slept in either.
Beth fed the children, washed and dressed them and left them in the playpen while she tidied the house. When she had everything looking spick and span, she put the twins in their pram and went off, making sure everywhere was locked. The pram was heavy to push and she wouldn’t be able to take the children out like this much longer. She would have to ask Bernie to buy her a pushchair – if he’d got any money to spend now that she’d taken his secret hoard.
She walked round to Lizzie’s but discovered her friend wasn’t at work. Ed told her that Lizzie was with Aunt Miriam.
‘Harry’s uncle had a heart attack yesterday when Lizzie went round there,’ he said. ‘He collapsed and Lizzie went to hospital with him and she’s been looking after Miriam, because otherwise she’d be on her own and she’s very upset.’
‘Yes, of course. If Lizzie comes in, can you give her a message – tell her to hang on to the package I sent to her house… and not to tell Bernie or my mother.’
‘Right, I’ll remember.’ Ed gave her a puzzled look. ‘Is something the matter, Beth – anything I can do to help?’
‘No, thanks all the same,’ Beth said. ‘I’ll come round again, but it’s best if Lizzie doesn’t come to me.’
Ed’s puzzled look deepened but Beth didn’t dare to tell him anything more. The less her friends knew, the better. She hadn’t wanted to involve Lizzie at all, but there was nowhere in the house she could hide anything from Bernie. If he thought she’d got those notebooks, he would tear the place apart. She would have to think of a safer place to hide them, because if Bernie suspected Beth had stolen them he might go after Lizzie and make her give them up – no, Beth would find somewhere else, and in the meantime, she needed to get home so that she had Bernie’s tea ready when he came in.
Bernie was home at his usual time that evening. He seemed subdued and thoughtful as he ate the beef and kidney pie she’d made for their meal.
‘This is good,’ he said and wiped his mouth on the napkin she’d put out for him. Bernie liked things nice and she’d found the set in one of his mother’s drawers when she first got married.
‘Yes, I was lucky,’ Beth said. ‘I was first in the qu
eue this morning and got a little piece of kidney to make it tasty, but I used most of the meat coupons, I’m afraid.’
‘You don’t want to worry about that – I’ll be gettin’ a chicken and some ham at the weekend.’
Beth often wondered how he managed to get extra rations, because he certainly didn’t use the books she’d had stamped that morning by her local butcher. Bernie seemed to think the rules about rationing were there to be broken and she wondered if he ever thought that he was robbing other people of a chance to buy something nice by buying pinched meat – because it had to be stolen, didn’t it?
‘Where have you been today then?’ he asked, catching her wrist as she walked past him with their used dishes. ‘Not to visit your family…’
‘Just shopping…’
‘You hadn’t heard about Bert Oliver then?’
‘No, Beth lied. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘He had a heart attack – been unwell for a while now.’
‘I wasn’t aware you knew him…?’ Beth questioned.
‘He let me down over a business deal once…’
‘You mean your black market stuff?’
‘Bernie glared at her. ‘Mebbe. Keep your nose out of my business if you know what’s good for you.’
‘I heard they sent a butcher to prison for buying and selling stolen meat.’
‘He was a fool to get caught,’ Bernie said. ‘Besides, I’m doing an important job and no one is going to suspect me… unless whoever took my stuff tries to get clever and go to the cops.’
‘What stuff. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Beth tried to walk on, but his fingers tightened on her wrist.
‘I think you do,’ he said and his eyes glittered like ice. ‘If I find out it was you that broke into my desk, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born…’
Beth pulled clear of him and sent a blue and white dish flying; it fell to the floor and smashed. ‘I don’t know what you mean, but if I did know it would be daft of you to upset me, wouldn’t it?’
‘Just be careful, very careful,’ Bernie said. ‘You know what I’m capable of – and if I thought it was you I would make you regret it. What I’ve done up to now is nothing to what I can do if you make me angry…’
‘What the hell are you talking about? I don’t even know what you’ve lost.’
‘Maybe not,’ Bernie grunted. ‘But someone did it and I’ll find out who and make them sorry.’
Beth bent to pick up the broken china but didn’t answer him. He was suspicious but still inclined to believe her.
She’d thought that once she had the proof of his secret activities she could control him, but now she wasn’t sure. He was much stronger than she was and he might hurt her so much that she was forced to blurt out the truth. He wouldn’t be easy to intimidate and she was beginning to think she’d made a mistake to break into that locked drawer…
Her hands in hot water, Beth thought furiously about her precarious situation. If she went to Lizzie she would put her in danger… but if she went home her father would protect her and the children. She knew her father’s opinion of men who dealt in stolen goods – and if she was right about the brothels her father wouldn’t ever let her go back to Bernie again. If he went to the police it would be a good option, but supposing he decided to go after Bernie himself?
Beth was calmer but still uncertain what to do for the best when she took the tea through to the sitting room. Bernie was reading a paper and didn’t even notice her.
‘I’ve got a headache and I’m going to bed,’ she said. ‘I’m going to lock my door and if I have any more of your temper I’m going home to my parents.’
She walked out on him and didn’t look back, but he hadn’t answered her back and she knew she’d taken him by surprise
She could only hope his uncertainty would keep him in restraint for a while, because if he started to abuse her again she would have to carry out her plan and send those books to the police – and Beth knew that if she ever got that desperate she would have to make sure her children were out of his way and safe first…
Chapter 17
‘Oh, Lizzie, I don’t know what I’m going to do if anything happens to my Bert,’ Aunt Miriam said, her eyes red from weeping. ‘He’s all I’ve got and I’ll never manage the business without him, let alone anything else.’
Lizzie reached for her hand and squeezed it. ‘You’re not alone, Aunt Miriam. You’ve got me and I promise that I’ll help you sort things out – but he isn’t gone. He might get better…’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ she agreed but sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. ‘The doctors told him he should cut down at work months ago, even before Harry was killed…’
‘Mrs Oliver?’ the doctor asked. ‘I wanted to let you know that your husband has stabilized for the moment. We have given him some sedatives, so you won’t be able to visit him this evening – why don’t you both go home and rest? We can call you if there is any change.’
‘You’re coming home with me tonight,’ Lizzie said. ‘Hatty will be putting Betty to bed soon and you can help bathe her. I don’t think you should be on your own this evening.’
‘Oh, Lizzie, thank you.’ Aunt Miriam sniffed. ‘I don’t know what I should have done without you.’
‘Well, we’ll make sure we see more of each other in future whatever happens,’ Lizzie said and smiled at her
‘I should like that.’ Aunt Miriam blinked rapidly to hold back the tears. ‘You’ve been like a daughter to me, Lizzie – the daughter we never could have…’
‘Well, you’ve got Betty to love and fuss over now,’ Lizzie smiled and took her arm as they left the hospital and summoned a taxicab from just outside. They got in and Lizzie gave them her home address. Taking Aunt Miriam home with her was the least she could do. Even though the doctors had told Lizzie that this latest attack was only to be expected because Bert had refused to slow down and be sensible, she was still feeling guilty…
*
Bernie glowered as he watched Lizzie get out of the taxi with Miriam Oliver. Damn the bitch! She was too well protected and he couldn’t get near enough to frighten her. He’d trusted that fool Norm to do it, but Norm had let him down. They’d had a bitter row when the idiot let that soldier knock him down. Norm had stabbed the soldier, but hadn’t killed him; if he went to the police with a description and they traced the culprit, Norm would’ve split on him; he’d tell all he knew, about Bernie’s secret business as well as his feud against Lizzie Larch. Bernie was in no doubt that Norm would’ve made sure he went down with him – and he knew too much. Besides, he’d been running scared. Norm had been warned off by someone who had managed to throw a fright into him, someone who worried him more than his boss did; he’d told Bernie he was finished with him and was getting out of London for a while, but Bernie couldn’t let him do that. So he’d done what he had to – struck him from behind… struck him such a blow that he’d fallen into the river and drowned. If he wasn’t already dead when he went into the water. Bernie had been shaking with fright as he walked home, needing time to pull himself together. He had done many things, but that was the first time he’d killed…
It had put the wind up Bernie when the police came to the house asking questions. Fortunately, they’d believed his story about Norm having been a disgruntled employee that he’d had to dismiss from the munitions factory.
A scowl settled on Bernie’s face now as he watched the bitch go inside her house and lock the door. He should’ve let Norm have his fun with her at the start, because for as long as she lived, Beth had somewhere to run. Oh, she’d said she would go back to her family if she left him, but he knew she’d creep back with the bitch as soon as she could. She was a lying whore and he’d decided it was time he taught her who was the master once and for all. She had no right to shut him out of her bedroom – and if she’d taken his stuff he was going to make her very sorry. He wanted that money back, and more particularly the notebooks.
‘She’
ll find out, Ma, just the way you did…’ he muttered feverishly, the light of near madness in his topaz eyes. ‘I made you sorry and she’ll be begging to die by the time I’ve finished with her.’
He’d been a fool to leave important business materials in a drawer an amateur could break into. He should have locked them in a safe, built one into the wall, but he’d never thought she would have the guts to break open a locked drawer. If it was Beth of course. Bernie couldn’t be sure, but there had been something in her eyes when she’d challenged him at supper.
Sometimes he thought it would be better just to let that lying whore of a wife of his leave him, but he’d married her because he’d wanted what other men had – a wife to cook and clean for him, and to give him children. He should have been gentler with her, because he had plenty of whores who would let him do whatever he wanted and he should have remembered that Beth wasn’t used to that sort of treatment. She’d made him angry and he’d lashed out in temper; afterwards, he’d been sorry and tried to make it up to her with presents, but the scorn in her eyes – and lately hatred – had cut him like a knife…
A little smile touched his mouth at the thought of a knife. Norm always thought his knife would protect him, but he hadn’t been expecting that blow to the back of his head. Bernie had been scared by what he’d done at first, but now he liked the thought that he’d killed and got away with it. The feeling of power was exciting and it made him want to kill again… the bitch that stood in his way.
Well, he’d get to this other bitch first. He would teach her to interfere in his business. Bert Oliver had been all ready to sell him the premises in Bethnal Green until she started working for him. It had taken ages to negotiate what would’ve been a good deal, because Bernie knew what Oliver didn’t, that the whole area was due for slum clearance. Oh, the clearance had been put off for the duration of the war, but afterwards the scheme would come up again, and Bernie wanted to own the land; he had quite a few properties in the area already and would’ve had the controlling interest, if the deal hadn’t fallen through. He’d thought Oliver might come back to him after his nephew died and he’d turned against Lizzie, and he’d done his best to harbour lies about her, feeding the gullible fool titbits, but despite his bitterness, Oliver had hung on to the end – probably hoping she’d go back to him.
