by June Tate
‘All right! I wanted her. She said it was OK, then she undressed me and gripped my balls until I screamed.’
His mother let go, uttering her disgust. ‘She should have cut them off. Did she say where she was going?’
‘How the hell should I know? I was on the floor in agony.’
‘Did you hurt her?’
He was furious. ‘Just a minute! I’m the one who’s hurt here. But if I ever meet her again, I’ll pay her back.’
‘You just pray her boyfriend doesn’t find you first.’
Fear was reflected in his eyes. ‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s due home from Ireland any day and he’ll come here looking for her. What do you think will happen when I have to tell him she’s done a flit? He’ll want to know why.’
He grabbed at her arm. ‘You won’t tell him, Mama? He’ll kill me.’
She looked at her son with loathing. ‘It’s what you deserve. You make me sick. I won’t tell him, but it’s the last thing I do for you.’
He gave a sigh of relief, then, frowning, asked: ‘What do you mean, the last thing you do for me?’
‘I’ve been good to you, spoilt you, looked after you since your papa died. All you’ve done is cause trouble, drink yourself silly and sleep with prostitutes. Ach!’ She spat on the ground. ‘That’s what I think of you. All I ever wanted was for you to earn an honest living. Get married. Stand beneath the chuppah with a nice Jewish girl. But no. You’re a meshuggener! From today I have no son. You leave here and you don’t come back, not ever. From today, I’m a poor childless woman – alone in the world.’
The blood drained from his face. ‘You can’t do this to me.’
‘It’s done.’ She held up her hands as if in surrender. ‘I don’t care where you go, what happens to you. Because of you, Lily’s gone. For that I don’t forgive you – not ever.’
Manny glared at her. ‘You crazy old woman. You cared more for that slut than you ever did me.’
Rachel looked coldly at him. ‘She has more honesty, pride and chutzpa in her little finger than you’ll ever have.’ She threw his jacket at him. ‘Get dressed, you look pathetic. I’ll send the rest of your clothes to your uncle. Now, get out of my sight. You disgrace my family. That I should know you, makes me want to puke. That I gave birth to you makes me ashamed.’
As she recalled the ugly scene, tears pricked her eyes. To think it was a son of hers who’d tried to have sex with Lily and frightened her away. Lily, whom she had grown to love as a daughter. What would become of the poor girl? How would she, Rachel, cope without her? Her life would be empty now without the cheeky, cheery presence which had lit up her every working day. The girl had brightened her life, made up for some of her disappointments. Yes, she would feel the loss deeply. Perhaps she could find her, get her back. After all, Lily had no one to fear now. Manny had been banished from her life. Yes, Rachel decided. She would have a quiet word with Amy. The prostitute got around – heard all the gossip of the Docklands.
But Amy couldn’t help her.
‘Blimey, Rachel, what happened to make her scoot off like that? She was so happy the last time I saw her. Tom was due back from Ireland.’
‘He’s back,’ said Rachel, ‘and he’s going mad with worry. He’s out looking for her at the moment.’
‘Well, I’ll keep my ear to the ground,’ Amy promised, ‘and I’ll let you know if I hear anything.’
Rachel’s face was filled with anguish and guilt. ‘If you see her, Amy, tell her it’s safe to come back.’
Amy gave her a strange look. ‘What do you mean, safe? Just a minute – you ain’t being honest with me. What happened here? What did you do to that girl?’
Wringing her hands Rachel said, ‘I didn’t do anything. It was Manny. He let himself in at night.’
‘Oh my God!’
‘He swears he didn’t touch her – in fact, she hurt him. I’m sure she’s all right.’
‘All right! How can you say that? God knows where she is, what sort of state she’s in. How’s she going to make a living? How’s she going to live? Tell me that.’
Covering her eyes with her hand, Rachel cried, ‘I love that girl. I don’t want no harm to come to her. I’ve sent Manny away. I don’t have a son no more.’
Compassion for the woman took the place of anger, and Amy held Rachel in her arms. ‘There, there, don’t you fret. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll go round all the pubs and ask if anyone has seen her.’
‘Thanks, Amy. I’ll do anything to make it up to her.’
‘Course you will, and I’ll tell her that if I see her.’
‘Yes yes,’ pleaded Rachel. ‘You tell her that no more harm will come to her. She can live here rent free – anything she wants – only bring her back please, Amy.’
Pity for the older woman’s suffering filled Amy’s heart. ‘I’ll do my best,’ she said.
Left alone, Rachel wondered if she would ever see Lily again.
Lily was getting desperate. It was two weeks since she’d run away from Manny Cohen and her money was almost gone. So far, she’d been unable to find work. She’d paid the rent but didn’t have enough for next week. Although the new room was shabby, she’d cleaned it as best she could, it had a lock on the door and she felt relatively safe. No way was she going back to the dangers of living rough on the street.
The only thing she possessed of any value was a gold cross and chain that Tom had given her. She would rather starve than sell it. Amy would help if she could get to her, but Lily dared not go to the places that Amy frequented, in case she bumped into Tom.
She’d spent part of the day walking up and down the High Street, looking at the shops, but now it was night-time and she was hungry. Outside the fish and chip shop, she saw a man eating. The aroma wafted across her nostrils and she felt faint with hunger. She hadn’t eaten that day.
The man looked up and saw her leaning against the wall, watching him. Walking over to her he said, ‘Hello, love,’ looking at her pretty face with appreciation. ‘Want one?’ He held out the newspaper.
‘Thanks,’ she said gratefully.
Seeing the longing in her eyes as she looked at his food he said, ‘You wait here. I’ll go and buy you some, then we can go for a drink somewhere, if you like?’
She looked uncertain.
‘No funny business, honest,’ he urged.
The thought of food weakened her resolve. ‘All right then.’
Soon he was back with another fish supper and they walked away together, eating and talking. ‘Jim’s my name,’ the stranger said. ‘Just docked today. My home’s in Liverpool, so I thought I’d have a bit of supper and a few pints.’
‘You work on the boats then?’
‘Lady! Ship, if you please. You row a boat.’
‘Sorry,’ Lily apologised. ‘I didn’t know.’
‘No, that’s all right. It’s just one of those things that are important to merchant seamen. How about a drink, then? To wash down the food.’
Lily reluctantly agreed. At least she would be warm, she told herself. Sitting in the pub, she looked around and was thankful that the bar was full of strangers.
‘What’s your name?’ Jim asked as he sat beside her.
‘Lily.’
‘Suits you, you’re as pretty as a flower.’
She smiled at his flattery. ‘What do you do on your ship, then?’
‘I’m a bedroom steward.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I have several cabins to look after and the passengers that use them during the voyage. You know, change the linen, get them food or drink if they want it. See their clothes are put out, pressed and cleaned if necessary. Clean the cabin, keep them happy and hope they leave a big tip!’ He grinned. ‘It’s a busy life.’
Lily was fascinated. ‘How wonderful to be able to travel to other parts of the world. What’s America like?’
‘We only go to New York – that’s hardly America. It’s a big noisy city, fu
ll of people.’
The next hour passed pleasantly, with Jim regaling Lily with tales of his passengers and their strange habits and demands. He told her he was married. ‘I miss my wife and kids. It’s a lonely life being at sea if you don’t live local. I don’t get home that often, you see, and I lack female company.’ He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I could come back to your room tonight, Lily. I’m not on duty until the morning.’
Lily looked stricken.
‘Look, love, from the way you tucked into that grub tonight, you’re down on your uppers. You need money and I’m lonely. I’ll pay you well.’
‘You think I’m on the game!’
‘No, I don’t, or you would have come up to me earlier tonight.’ His tone was reasonable. ‘I can tell you’re a nice girl, and we can do each other a bit of good.’ He looked at her earnestly. ‘I really do miss my wife, Lily. I’m lonely. I want to hold a woman in my arms. I’ve had a good trip, and I’ll see you all right for money.’
The thought of taking a man to her bed terrified Lily. The only sex she’d ever had was with her father. Yet what was she to do? She had no savings left. She looked into the smiling eyes of her companion. Did she have any choice in the matter?
‘How much?’ The words came out of her mouth before she had time to think.
‘Two quid.’
Lily’s breath was taken away by his generosity. If she took him home, she could pay next week’s rent and feed herself. Despair overcame her. She was really desperate and if she said no, then she was in real trouble, with nowhere to turn. He looked a nice man, sounded kind. There was no choice.
‘All right, Jim. But you pay me first.’ She remembered Amy’s rule of always getting paid in advance.
He smiled at her and, taking the money out of his wallet, handed it over.
As they walked back to her room, Lily drew the collar of her coat up around her face. She couldn’t bear the thought of anyone being able to recognise her and be a witness to her degradation.
Early next morning, she lay back against the pillow and listened to Jim’s snoring, closing her eyes to blot out the tears that slowly trickled down her cheeks. She had come to this!
He had been kind and gentle, but as he made love to her her heart was breaking. What price her respectability now? She got out of bed and slowly dressed. Walking over to the window, she watched the dawn break, crossed her arms over her chest to keep out the chill of the morning, and tried to listen to the sounds of the docks as they came alive. The ship’s hooter, shrill on the morning air. The sound of coal trucks shunting into each other. The rattle of the first tram. Doors slamming as workers left home. But her thoughts precluded all things. What was to become of her? Was this to be her life? Was this the only way she could survive? If this was it, did she want to face the days ahead?
Tom. She longed for him with every fibre of her being. What had happened, she wondered, when he returned from Ireland and found she had disappeared? How hurt and confused he must have been. Angry, even. Would he hate her now? It made no difference; he was lost to her for ever. She could never tell him the truth. Never tell him about Manny. If she did, he would find him, then Manny would divulge her guilty secret. There was now no way they could ever be together. She was filled with despair.
Jim stirred. Looking around, he saw Lily by the window. ‘Good morning,’ he said.
She didn’t want to answer, to turn and face him. If she did, she would be facing her own shame. She heard him dressing, then walking over to her, he caught hold of her by the shoulders and turned her round.
‘Don’t feel guilty, Lily. You kept me company, and I’m grateful.’
She tried to smile. ‘I know. And I’m grateful too.’
He kissed her forehead. ‘I’ve got to get back. It was a quick turnaround this trip, we sail this evening. Maybe when I come back next time, we can do this again?’
Taking a deep breath she said, ‘Why not?’
Tom stood at the bar of The Sailor’s Return, looking morose and unhappy.
‘No news then?’ asked Declan.
Shaking his head he snapped, ‘The police are bloody useless. I’ve searched and searched, but I can’t find her. Amy’s been looking too – but there’s no trace of her. I don’t know what else to do.’
‘Maybe she doesn’t want to be found.’
Tom glowered at Declan. ‘What the hell do you mean by that?’
‘Don’t take this wrong, but you don’t know the reason for her running off. All I’m saying is that something may have happened that she doesn’t want to explain … For all you know, she may have left Southampton.’
Tom shook his head. ‘Rachel Cohen said she didn’t think she had much money. God, I hope she hasn’t left this place or I’ll never find her.’
‘That’s something you may have to face, my friend.’
With a grim expression Tom said, ‘I hope you’re wrong. I love that girl. I had such plans. We were to get married and one day I was taking her back to Ireland. She wanted these things too. None of it makes sense.’
Declan looked puzzled. ‘It only makes sense if something happened to change her mind.’
‘She did need a bit of a push to name the day,’ said Tom thoughtfully.
‘What happened to persuade her?’
‘I told her I might not come back from Ireland, because I thought she didn’t love me.’
‘And?’ prompted Declan.
‘Well, then it all changed. She said she didn’t want to lose me. It all ended all right, but then I went to Ireland with the promise we’d make plans on my return. It’s all so crazy.’
Declan shook his head. ‘It certainly is, but then I’ve never understood the female mind and I’ve been married for six years. Why don’t you go home and try to get some sleep? You look all in.’
Tom emptied his glass. ‘No, give me another pint. If I’m on me own, I’ll go mad.’
Amy was getting worried. She’d spent the last few weeks visiting every pub in the dock area talking to the other prostitutes, describing Lily, but no one had seen her.
She’d been tempted once or twice to tell Tom about Manny, but if Lily hadn’t turned up, what difference would it make? Besides, she didn’t know for sure what had happened that night. It must have been something pretty traumatic to make the young girl turn tail and run. Maybe something she wouldn’t want Tom to know. Anyway, the poor bugger was in a bad enough state as it was – Rachel Cohen too, for that matter.
‘Bloody Manny!’ Amy cursed as she left yet another pub. If I could get my hands on that little sod, I’d do for him myself.
She worried as to how Lily would manage. She hoped she could get a job of some kind. Well, at least the kid had guts. She was a survivor. If only she’d get in touch with me, Amy thought. I told her I’d always help her if she got into any trouble.
Lily stood in the shadows opposite the Club Valletta and watched the comings and goings. She was getting really desperate. She remembered Amy saying she could work in comfort for The Maltese. She didn’t want to be a whore, but he had said there were other jobs and she wondered what he could have meant. Then she remembered the expression in his eyes. If she went there and asked for a job, they’d make her a whore. Who was she kidding? And after her night with Jim, was she any better?
The club seemed very busy. It was fascinating watching the different types enter the doorway. Lily was surprised that so many of the members seemed to be well-dressed. This was no cheap brothel.
There was a man on the door. He didn’t wear a uniform, but he was well-dressed, too. He was big and broad, built like a wrestler or a boxer. She noticed how the members treated him with a nervous respect. No doubt he was there to keep trouble and unwelcome clients at bay. Two seamen tried to enter, but they were soon sent on their way. Obviously not up to standard, thought Lily.
She drew deeper into the shadows as she saw Vittorio come out of the club. Beside him stood a tall girl, dressed in the latest fashion, her cloche hat m
atching her expensive-looking coat. She was very striking to look at, and her cultured voice carried on the air. Lily wondered who she was and what she was doing there. A car drew up and The Maltese kissed the woman on the cheek before helping her inside. He waved as it drove away, and stood on the steps, talking to the man on the door. He turned slowly and peered across the road through the darkness in her direction, almost as if he felt he was being watched. Lily felt the chill of fear down her spine. She slowly backed off around the corner, quietly. Then, turning, she hurried away.
Chapter Seven
‘Come along home with me, Tom, and have a cup of tea.’ Bill Harris looked at his work-mate with a worried frown. This lad needed taking out of himself, he thought. Ever since his girl had run off, he’d lost his sparkle.
With a nod Tom said, ‘Thanks, that’s real kind of you.’ He shivered. ‘It’s getting so parky these days, a hot cup of tea is just what I need.’
When they arrived at his house, Bill opened the door and called, ‘Mary!’
A tall girl peered around the scullery door. She had a head of riotous black hair and green eyes like a cat. ‘Hello, Dad.’
‘This is my mate Tom. Make us a cuppa, there’s a good girl.’ Turning to Tom he nodded towards the scullery. ‘My daughter – works as a maid at the doctor’s house.’
Tom thanked Mary as she put two mugs in front of them and smiled to himself as he saw the nervous tremble of her fingers. ‘I don’t bite, you know.’
She was embarrassed. Looking at him shyly she said, ‘I don’t suppose you do.’ Then she left them alone in the room that served as both kitchen and living room.
Bill lit his pipe and, tamping down the tobacco, quietly puffed on it to set it going. Sitting back in his chair he asked, ‘So how are you these days?’
Tom shrugged. ‘All right, I suppose. I guess I have to just get on with life, but it isn’t easy.’
‘Women are strange creatures, but there’ll come a day when you’ll be able to put it all behind you. Life is for living, lad. You’re a bloody long time dead.’
As he sat beside the range in the warm cosy room, quietly drinking his tea, Tom felt at peace for the first time since Lily had disappeared. He supposed he had to accept that she really didn’t want to be found. He still couldn’t understand it. He had experienced all kinds of emotions – shock, worry, despair and a sort of grieving for her. Now he was angry. His pride had been hurt and he wondered just how she could do such a thing to him. Offering marriage was a holy commitment, one for life. She’d thrown it back in his face. She couldn’t have loved him – how could she? It had all been lies. Yes, it was time to put it behind him.
