Winners and Losers

by Linda Sole

  ‘Had a row with the boyfriend?’ The young police officer smiled at her. ‘You should have asked the landlord to call you a taxi, love. There are some rum folk about at night. You’re all right now. Where are you staying? We’ll drop you off.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Sarah said. ‘My name is Sarah. I’m so grateful . . .’

  She felt so foolish as the police car sped through the streets and then she began to recognize her surroundings. The car stopped outside her hotel. She got out and thanked the officers again. The young one grinned at her. He handed her a small piece of paper.

  ‘Here – ring this number tomorrow, Sarah. You never know, your bag might have turned up.’

  ‘There was only a lipstick, hanky and some money in it,’ Sarah said. ‘I’ll try phoning but it doesn’t really matter – thanks so much for helping me.’

  ‘It is our job, miss.’ He waved to her as they drove off.

  Sarah walked into the hotel. She still felt a bit foolish. Her mother would scold her if she knew, but she wasn’t going to tell her. Sarah had learned her lesson. She would stay clear of people and clubs she didn’t know for the remainder of their holiday.

  She went up in the lift. She had decided to go straight to her own room, but as she left the lift on the third floor she saw the door of her mother’s room open. She was preparing her excuse for being late when she saw a man emerge and caught a glimpse of her mother. She was wearing a pink silk dressing gown, which had opened at the front, revealing her breasts. Her lipstick looked smeared and her hair was untidy. The picture told its own shocking story.

  Sarah stood absolutely still as the man leaned forward to kiss her mother and then walked past her and pressed the button for the lift. Mrs Jenkins had become aware of Sarah now and the look on her face said everything. She looked startled, then guilty, and finally ashamed.

  ‘Sarah,’ she called as the man disappeared into the lift. ‘It isn’t what you think. Come in, please, we have to talk.’

  Sarah followed her mother into the hotel bedroom. The bed was rumpled, the pillows bearing the indentation of someone’s head. It seemed obvious that the bed had been used for sex and she could smell something – a man’s cologne mingled with sweat.

  ‘Sarah, what you saw . . .’ Mrs Jenkins broke off as Sarah brought her gaze back from the bed. ‘It is no use lying to you. Besides, you are old enough now. Your father and I . . . we go our own separate ways. Our marriage hasn’t been what it should be for years. He has his lady friends when he goes away on business trips. I had an affair a year or so back, but this is the first time I’ve ever picked a man up in a hotel bar. I’m sorry you had to see it.’

  ‘You’ve always been so strict with me,’ Sarah said. She stared at her mother and felt sick. ‘All the time you were lying . . .’

  ‘No, Sarah!’ Her mother moved towards her, hand outstretched to touch her, but Sarah jerked back, anger and disgust in her eyes. ‘Don’t be like this, dearest. I care about your father but I’m not in love with him. He started having affairs soon after we were married. I wasn’t unfaithful for years – not until you were nearly old enough to leave school. We’ve stayed together for you; we don’t live as man and wife any more, but we’re still friends.’

  ‘All the things you said to me, about saving myself for marriage – all the warnings . . .’ Her eyes glittered. ‘It makes me sick. You make me sick!’

  Her mother flinched as if she had struck her. ‘Maybe you’ll understand one day. Please don’t condemn me, Sarah.’

  ‘You condemned Connor. It was because of all the things you said that I sent him away. I knew he wouldn’t rape that girl, but I wouldn’t listen to him, because you kept saying there was no smoke without fire. I doubted him – and that’s your fault.’

  ‘Blame me if it makes you feel better,’ her mother said. ‘It was your own decision to send him away, Sarah. I dare say he will come back if you ask him.’ Sarah turned away. ‘Where are you going?’

  Sarah paused and faced her. ‘I want to go home tomorrow. I know we have another few days booked, but I don’t want to stay here. I’m going to pack my case, but you can stay here if you want. You might find someone else you fancy.’

  ‘Don’t you dare talk to me like that!’ Mrs Jenkins lashed out, striking Sarah across the face.

  Sarah put a hand to her face but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to because her eyes said it all.

  ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have hit you. Please don’t look at me that way,’ her mother said. ‘I may have tried to keep you too innocent, Sarah, but I didn’t want you to be disillusioned with life too soon. I’ve never been happy. I wanted you to be happy. Please believe me.’

  ‘I believe you,’ Sarah said coldly. ‘But I’m not sure I can forgive you.’

  She left her mother staring after her. She regretted going to the club with Rod and she regretted letting him kiss her. She wished she had stayed in the hotel with her mother – perhaps this might not have happened if she’d been here.

  Sarah felt disgust turn in her. She was angry with her mother. She couldn’t come to terms with what she’d been told about her parents’ marriage. She had thought it was all so perfect, but all those times they played happy families on birthdays and Christmas – they had all been lies. Her father had a mistress. When he went away at the weekends it was to see another woman. He had lied to her for years. Both her parents had lied to her so many times.

  Sitting on the edge of her bed, Sarah looked at herself in the mirror. Did she look any different? She certainly felt it – older if not wiser. She must have been stupid not to see the signs: all those nights her father had been late home, she’d imagined he was working hard. It was a sham, a front kept up for her sake – and perhaps because it suited them both.

  Would they get a divorce now that she knew what was going on? Or would they still keep up the respectable front for the sake of appearances? She felt angry and betrayed. Why hadn’t they told her the truth ages ago?

  Maura opened her eyes and shivered. She was lying on grass and she felt frozen. How had she got here? She sat up, blinking as the blinding headache struck her. Just how many gins had she had the previous night? She struggled to her feet and looked down at herself. Her dress was stained with something and her stockings had holes in them. She must look like something the cat dragged in! She tried to remember what had happened. She had been with a man . . . Pete. He had suggested they go outside and she’d gone willingly, but then his friends had followed. What happened then was a blur in her mind, because she had been so drunk, but her body felt sore and she could vaguely remember being thrust down on the ground as one after the other they raped her. She wasn’t sure how many, but it must have been at least five . . .

  Maura tried to block the pictures of her humiliation. They had raped her and laughed as she struggled and screamed, begging them to stop. Shame washed over her. She knew she had brought it on herself. They had called her a whore and the rape had been a form of punishment; she vaguely recalled Pete standing over and urinating on her as she lay in a daze, telling her she’d got what she deserved. Oh, God, what had she done? How low had she got that a man would do that to her?

  She staggered a few steps and then vomited. Glancing round, she realized she was on the playing field where the football matches were held in the season; they held the schools athletic championships here, too, and sometimes fêtes. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, tasting the bitterness on her tongue. She needed a drink of water.

  She heard a church clock chiming somewhere in the distance. Eight strikes of the bell. It was eight o’clock in the morning! Suddenly, Maura remembered her promise to David. She had gone out for one drink and left him alone all night . . .

  She started running as the panic swept over her. She was such a fool. She had got drunk and then let those men she couldn’t even remember properly abuse her. Shame and remorse swept through her as she dashed into the street. She had to get home before David got up
and realized that she had been out all night.

  She never stood a chance. She didn’t see the heavy lorry speeding through the back street, and he didn’t see her until it was too late. As it hit her, Maura saw her son’s face and that of his father. David would be all right. Please, please, let him be all right . . .

  Daniel walked into Maura’s hairdressing shop. He saw that two customers were standing at the counter talking to the girl who worked there. Their faces were serious and it was clear they were shocked. He hesitated as they looked at him, then asked for David.

  ‘He is upstairs. The police are with him.’

  ‘Police?’ Daniel frowned. ‘What is wrong? Has something happened?’

  ‘Maura . . . she was killed early this morning,’ Shirley said, her face white and shocked. ‘She ran in front of a lorry near the Paradise football ground and it killed her.’

  ‘I’ll go up,’ Daniel said. ‘Is it the stairs through the back?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Daniel knew that they were staring at him as he went through to the back. The gossips were bound to pick up on his arrival and make four into five, but he couldn’t leave David to face this alone.

  At the top of the stairs he saw an open door. A police constable and a woman were standing over the boy, who was shrinking into his chair and staring at them, his face white and scared.

  ‘You have to go with Mrs Briggs. You can’t stop here alone,’ the police officer was saying.

  ‘No. I won’t!’

  ‘David, are you all right, lad?’

  The officer turned his head as Daniel stepped into the room.

  ‘Who are you, sir?’ he asked, but a small tornado went past him, throwing himself at Daniel, burying his head against his side as he clung to him and sobbed.

  ‘Mum’s dead. They want me to go to a home and I won’t. I won’t go!’ He looked up at Daniel, his face streaked with tears. ‘Don’t let them take me, Dad. Please don’t let them.’

  Daniel stroked his head. ‘Calm down, son. Let’s hear what they have to say. You can’t stay here alone.’

  ‘Are you the boy’s father?’ the police constable asked.

  Daniel looked down at the boy clinging to him and nodded. ‘Yes, he is my son. I knew Mrs Jacobs years ago. We never married, but David is mine. He stayed with me a couple of weeks back. He was upset at the time and I came over this morning to see how he was getting on.’

  ‘Is that true, David?’

  ‘Yes. He’s my dad. I want to go home with my dad.’

  ‘Your name, sir?’

  ‘Daniel Searles. I think it might be best if David came home with us. My wife was anxious about him and we wanted to help him. She will take him in until his future is decided.’ He looked down at David. ‘Do you still want to live with your grandmother and uncle in Ireland?’

  ‘I don’t want to go with her.’ David sent a look of dislike at the woman standing near the chair where he’d been sitting. ‘She wants to put me in a home.’

  ‘We called Mrs Briggs,’ the constable said. ‘The boy can’t be left on his own in an unfortunate case like this.’

  ‘He isn’t alone,’ Daniel said. ‘He can live with us until he decides what he wants to do. He has relations in Ireland. I am sure there must be an address for them. I’m not sure about Maura’s husband. I think he walked out on her a while ago. I’ll see to the funeral arrangements – if that is all right with you?’ He glanced down at David. ‘Do you know where your grandmother’s address is?’ David nodded. ‘Go and fetch it then, lad.’ As David ran off, he looked at the police officer. ‘Would you rather contact the family – or do you want me to?’

  ‘We’ll do that, sir.’ He took a notebook from his pocket. ‘Could you give me your address?’

  ‘Greenfields, Acre Drove, Stretton. It’s a farm. I have four children besides David and he will be fine with us until this business is cleared up.’

  ‘What do you think, Mrs Briggs?’ the constable asked.

  ‘We’ve only his word that he is David’s father . . .’ She hesitated but then nodded. ‘I suppose it is all right – but you may receive a visit from a council officer to make certain David is living in a suitable home.’

  ‘That’s all right by me,’ Daniel said. David brought him an address book, opening it so that he could see the address in Ireland. He handed the book to the constable, who copied the address into his notebook and then returned it to the boy.

  ‘Do you want to go with Mr Searles?’ he asked David.

  ‘Yes. I’m not going with her.’ David took shelter behind his father’s body and clung on to his jacket. ‘You can’t make me. I’ll run away.’

  ‘I think it’s best you take the boy for the moment,’ the constable said and smiled. ‘He seems to know what he wants. We shall be in touch, sir. You should be able to start making arrangements for the funeral in a few days, but perhaps Mrs Jacobs’ relations may have something to say on the subject, so don’t be in too much rush.’

  ‘I’ll wait to hear from you.’ He looked down at David. ‘Do you want to pack a few things? You’ll need some clothes – underpants and socks, shirts. Do you want me to help you? Has your mum got a suitcase?’

  ‘I’ll get it,’ David said.

  ‘It was lucky that you came along when you did,’ the police officer said. ‘We’ll be on our way now – but someone will come and talk to you in a few days.’

  ‘Whenever you like. I’m usually about the yard, but if not I’ll be on the land somewhere nearby.’

  ‘If your wife isn’t happy to take the child, let us know and we’ll fetch him,’ Mrs Bates said and followed him out.

  David came back into the room a few minutes later. ‘Have they gone?’

  ‘Yes.’ Daniel smiled at him. ‘Let’s pack some clothes and anything else you want to take – you’d better bring the address book. We will need to contact your grandmother.’

  ‘Can I stay with you until Mum’s buried?’

  ‘Yes, of course. You can stay until your uncle or grandmother sends for you.’

  ‘What if they don’t?’

  ‘We’ll think about that if it happens,’ Daniel said as he followed the boy into his bedroom. ‘What do you want to bring with you?’

  Daniel hoped Alice would be all right with what he’d done. He had acted on impulse, because he couldn’t let his son go to an orphanage.

  ‘Of course you did the right thing,’ Alice said when she came down from settling David into Connor’s bedroom. ‘You couldn’t let David go to a home. Some of those places are all right these days, but I should have hated to think of him there being looked after by strangers.’

  ‘I thought you would say that.’ Daniel felt the relief sweep over him. ‘If you’d seen his face and the way she was standing over him – old battleaxe! I couldn’t let it happen, Alice.’

  ‘Of course you couldn’t,’ she agreed. ‘Poor kid. It’s an awful mess, Dan. What do you think happened to her? I mean, why did she run in front of that lorry?’

  ‘Her bed hadn’t been slept in. I think she must have gone out drinking. Maybe she slept it off somewhere and then tried to rush home before David got up.’

  ‘How could she go out and leave her son alone all night? Supposing something had happened – a fire or . . .’ Alice shook her head. ‘What will happen to the shop now?’

  ‘Shirley asked me what she ought to do. I told her to carry on as normal for now. I suppose Maura’s husband is entitled to anything she had, though I think it should go to David. If his family come over for the funeral, they can decide. I think Shirley might like to take the shop over, but that isn’t for me to say.’ Daniel looked thoughtful. ‘I said I would arrange the funeral, but David told me his grandmother and uncle are Catholics, so they may want to do it differently.’

  ‘We shall have to wait and see if they come for the funeral,’ Alice said. ‘I’m sure one of them will come, because of David. They are sure to take him back with them to Ireland.’
/>   ‘Yes, I suppose so. I know it is what he wanted . . .’

  ‘You sound unsure?’

  ‘Do I? I’m just shocked. It was all a bit sudden, Alice. Maura promised she wouldn’t drink – and now she’s dead. David is stunned. He hasn’t cried properly yet. I don’t think he really understands what has happened.’

  ‘I am sure he knows, he just can’t take it in,’ Alice said. ‘Poor little love. It is awful to lose your mother – even if she wasn’t as good a mother as she might have been. He will be all right with us, Dan. He can stay for as long as he needs to.’

  ‘You wouldn’t mind if he stayed for good?’

  ‘Not if it was what he really wanted,’ she said and looked thoughtful. ‘We might have to tell the children that he is their half-brother in time, but we’ll leave that for now.’

  Sarah could hear the sound of raised voices downstairs. She knew that her parents were arguing. Her father wanted to know why they had come home earlier than planned. She heard the telephone shrill in the hall and then the sound of her father picking it up.

  ‘Sarah,’ he called from the bottom of the stairs. ‘It is for you.’ Sarah went down the stairs. He handed her the receiver. ‘It’s Connor.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Sarah took the receiver, her heart thumping wildly. ‘Connor, where are you? I want to see you!’

  ‘I’m staying with Emily. Are you all right? You sound upset.’

  ‘Yes, I am. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,’ Sarah said. ‘I love you, Con. I know you wouldn’t do anything like that. Please forgive me.’ She gave a little sob. ‘I am so sorry . . .’

  ‘Don’t cry, darling,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was angry and I didn’t know what I was saying. I love you, Sarah.’ He hesitated, then said, ‘The police want to see me again. I have to go back to London today. If I can, I’ll come down as soon as I finish there.’

  Sarah felt cold all over. ‘Why do they want to see you? They can’t arrest you. You didn’t do anything. I know you didn’t!’

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ Connor said. ‘I didn’t speak to them myself. I just got a message that they needed to see me. I’m sure it will be all right, Sarah. If they were going to arrest me, they would have got the local police to do it. Besides, my lawyer told me that he had taken them some new evidence about the girl – so maybe it is that.’