The sound of a crash set the alarm bells ringing in Mrs Murphy’s head, but she relaxed again as she heard him hurrying away along the row, and began to doze in the warmth of the fire. Then she was jolted awake. Something wasn’t right. It was too quiet next door and she hadn’t heard Evelyn go upstairs. Maybe she was having a bit of supper before going to bed. If there was no sound soon she would go round and investigate. She closed her eyes and listened and waited. But then Mrs Murphy drifted off to sleep. By this time it would have been too late to help Evelyn anyway.
Bernard was dressed and had been fed a breakfast of Post Toasties by John, who was fascinated by the little boy’s infectious grin and the way he chatted all the time. ‘I’ve eaten it all up like Goldilocks,’ Bernard laughed.
‘So you have. It’ll make you a big boy.’
‘I’m a big boy already now I’m free.’
Lucy thought it strange that Evelyn hadn’t fetched him home by this time. Maybe his mother wasn’t well. She always suffered severe cramps during her monthlies.
‘Watch Bernard,’ Lucy said. ‘I’ll go and see if Evelyn’s up yet.’
Lucy’s scream could be heard from one end of the row to the other. John grabbed the little boy and ran in the direction of Evelyn’s. Lucy was standing in the doorway, her face almost as white as that of the corpse. ‘Don’t bring Bernard in,’ she cried. ‘Don’t let him see his mam.’ Lucy was trembling, almost on the verge of collapsing. John handed Bernard into the care of Mrs Slater and Lucy into the care of Mrs Marshall, then he went into the house. Evelyn’s arm was almost on the fire and though only cokes were still smouldering her hand was burned and blistered. ‘Fetch the police and a doctor,’ John called.
Mr Slater came into the kitchen. ‘My God,’ he whispered. ‘I’ve sent for’t doctor. What does tha think’s ’appened, John?’
‘I’ve no idea. She might have fallen backwards but I doubt it. Somebody’s struck her in the face and knocked her down, more like. Look at her eye and nose.’
‘Who the hell’d do summat like that to a lass?’
Mrs Murphy had arrived by this time, weeping and blaming herself for not investigating in time to save the lass.
‘It were ’im she used to go with, the bairn’s father. I recognised ’is voice. He wanted the babby. It were my fault, I didn’t want to interfere but I might ’ave saved ’er life if I ’ad.’
‘It weren’t your fault, love. It were ’is, the murdering swine.’ Mr Slater sat the woman down on a kitchen chair. ‘The bobby’ll be ’ere soon. I daresay ee’ll want to ask yer a few questions.’
Just then a young woman walked in. ‘Good morning, I’m Doctor Sellars. I’m new to the practice.’ John wished it had been a male doctor – this was no job for a woman – but the lady was already down on her knees beside the body. ‘I’d say she’s been dead about ten hours. Does anyone know how it happened?’
‘Aye, it were about ten hours since, and she was murdered.’ Mrs Murphy suddenly became hysterical. ‘It wor my fault,’ she screamed.
Doctor Sellars opened her bag and took out two pills and then she went to the sink and filled a cup with water. ‘Take these,’ she said. ‘They’ll help calm you.’
Mr Murphy came to his wife’s side. ‘Come on lass, let’s get you ’ome.’ He had obviously come straight from his bed, with a greyish-coloured singlet half-hanging from his trousers.
‘Did the lady witness what occurred?’
‘No, she reckons she heard it though. Doctor?’ John said. ‘Would you go take a look at my wife? It was her who found Evelyn and she’s bound to be in shock. Only she’s in the last month of pregnancy and I’m concerned about her and the baby.’
‘Well I’ll see her now. There’s nothing can be done for this poor girl. The police will have to be notified of course.’
‘Someone’s gone for them. They should have been here by now.’
John left Mr Slater in charge and took the doctor to see Lucy. She was cuddling little Bernard – who was trying to free himself from her grip – and rocking frantically in the chair by the fire. John held his arms out for the child but Lucy only held him closer.
‘Come along, my dear,’ the doctor coaxed. ‘Let me take a look at you and see if your baby’s all right. You need taking care of too.’
‘No, I’m the one who’s to take care of him. Evelyn was my friend; it’s the least I can do. We’ll look after him, won’t we, John?’
‘Yes, if that’s what you want. But let the doctor take a look at you now and make sure our baby’s all right.’
‘They’re both our babies now,’ Lucy stated, but she handed Bernard over to John and let the doctor check her over and put her to bed to recover from the shock. ‘Your baby’s fine,’ Dr Sellars told Lucy. ‘I can’t wait for the delivery, which will be my first in Millington.’ My first death too, the doctor thought as she came downstairs – a death she would never forget till her own dying day.
Frank paced the pavement by the clock and wondered what had happened to prevent Evelyn keeping to their arrangement. Maybe her son was ill or had fallen asleep. Maybe visitors had turned up unexpectedly. After ten minutes he perched on the wall and made up further excuses for Evelyn not being here. He considered going to find her, but couldn’t bring himself to do so in case she had simply decided she didn’t wish to see him again. It would be too embarrassing for both of them if that was the situation. He set off down the hill dejectedly and made his way home. He had thought Evelyn liked him and he liked her, a lot. In fact he was on the verge of falling in love for the first time in his life, with the lovely, desirable Evelyn. Little did he know that the girl who had captured his heart was lying cold and still in the Sheffield City Mortuary.
Lucy hardly stopped crying for a week. Other women on the row took charge of the funeral arrangements, knowing Lucy was in no fit state for anything other than taking care of Evelyn’s son. She was afraid to let him out of her sight in case his father came finding him. Lucy knew this was unlikely and Mrs Murphy was adamant that he knew nothing of the child’s existence, but Lucy scanned the newspaper each day in case there was any mention of Evelyn’s child. John insisted that he wouldn’t dare come back to the area after he had committed so vile a crime, but Lucy was hard to convince. It was surprising how much useful information the people on the row managed to give the police, who seemed to have set up home permanently at Evelyn’s. Mrs Murphy remembered Evelyn once mentioning that the man came from a place somewhere near Rotherham, though nobody knew the man’s name. Someone who had been walking his dog down Side Row on the night of the murder recalled seeing a man run down the hill and roar off on a motorbike. Mrs Slater even found a photograph she had taken a couple of years ago of the kids playing French cricket in the yard. There in the background was the wanted man walking across to the lavatory. The photograph was shown in the newspapers throughout the region; fortunately none of them mentioned Bernard. Jane was uneasy about Lucy keeping the child. ‘You’re young, Lucy. You’ll have a family of your own to take care of, without taking on someone else’s. Besides, is it fair to John? After all, you’ve already given our Will a home.’
But John agreed with Lucy. ‘He’s ours now, Jane. Evelyn had no one else to care for him. And we didn’t give Will a home – it was his home already, more than it was mine. We shall do things properly. We shall adopt Bernard. It would be too heartbreaking if he was taken away later.’
‘Well, James and I will support you as much as we can.’
‘Thanks, Jane. Lucy will need some support over the next few weeks.’
‘Don’t worry, she’ll get it,’ Jane laughed. ‘You won’t be able to keep the neighbours away when there’s a new baby in the house.’
It was Mary however who was there for her sister. She took over the caring of Bernard so that Lucy was free to rest during the week before the baby was born. Lucy hoped Mary didn’t become too attached to the little boy and was relieved when her labour began. John had gone on afternoon shi
ft when Lucy’s waters broke. The pains came fast and furious and just as Mrs Slater was about to send Mary off for the midwife Lucy gave birth to a daughter. Both mother and child were settled comfortably by the time John came home from work. Bernard was fast asleep and a hot meal was being kept warm in the oven.
‘Where’s Lucy?’ John was alarmed to find Mary there at that time of night.
‘In bed.’ Mary had decided to surprise John.
‘Is she not well?’ John was already on his way upstairs.
‘She’s fine – tired, that’s all.’
John crept into the bedroom so as not to wake Bernard, or his wife if she happened to be asleep. Lucy was sitting up in bed looking flushed and beautiful. She was cradling their daughter in her arms.
‘Lucy.’ John’s eyes filled with tears at the picture they made. He took the baby from his wife. ‘Oh, Lucy, are you all right?’ He took a tiny hand in his. ‘Is it a boy?’
‘A girl. Are you disappointed?’
‘Delighted, and on your birthday!’ Lucy’s birthday had been forgotten what with one thing and another, but she was pleased that John had remembered.
‘Primrose day,’ she said. John examined his daughter, smoothing down her soft hair. ‘We should call her Primrose,’ he decided. ‘Her hair’s the colour of primroses.’
‘Primrose Grey. It suits her.’ Lucy smiled, seemingly for the first time in weeks. ‘But it seems a bit prim and proper, a bit like Prudence.’
‘Oh no, we can’t have her growing up like her.’ John pulled a face. ‘I like it though, Primrose Grey.’
‘Then we shall baptise her Primrose, and call her Rosie.’
John sat on the bed beside his wife, the baby content in her father’s arms. ‘Rosie Grey, may you grow up to be as beautiful and sweet-natured as your mother.’
‘And as kind and lovely as your daddy,’ Lucy added. ‘We shall take her to the wishing mirror tomorrow.’
‘I shall take her to the mirror. You shall stay in bed and get well again; after all, you’ll need all your strength with two children to take care of.’
‘And a demanding husband.’ Lucy’s eyes sparkled. ‘Our Mary’s cooked your supper and she’ll be waiting to go home.’
‘Aye, she’s a good lass.’ John prised himself reluctantly from the bed. ‘And capable.’
‘We were brought up to be.’ Lucy gazed at Primrose and wished her parents were here to see their first grandchild – second really, if you counted little Bernard. Yes, Bernard must be counted as her firstborn and treated exactly the same as Rosie. She placed her daughter in the cot beside the bed and hoped Bernard would sleep through the night as he usually did. Before she fell asleep Lucy said her prayers, adding a special one that Mary would be the next Gabbitas girl to become a mother. Lucy had seen the longing in her sister’s eyes as Mrs Slater had handed the new baby to Lucy. She wished she could take away the hurt from both Mary and Jacob, but no one could do that, except a child of their very own.
Chapter Fourteen
NELLIE STOOD ON the pavement in the quiet Blackpool street and stared wide-eyed at the house Tom was intending to buy.
‘This isn’t a house for the likes of me. It’s more like a guest house.’
‘So when we have guests, such as your family to stay, there’ll be plenty of room for them.’
‘Yes but …’
‘No buts; you haven’t seen it yet.’
‘No, but …’
Tom laughed. ‘Shut up. Let’s go inside.’
They climbed the steps and he unlocked the front door, then they stepped into a wide, sunlit hall. A thickly carpeted staircase led upwards and a door to the left into a large, beautifully furnished lounge. Another door opened into a huge, well-appointed kitchen.
‘This is even better than the one at the manor,’ Nellie said. ‘Oh, look, Tom.’ She pointed through the window to where a rhododendron was just coming into flower. ‘There’s even a garden.’
‘Well yes, a small one.’ Tom opened a door to the left. ‘This would be our own private sitting room.’ The room was furnished with a Chesterfield suite and a glass-fronted display cabinet. ‘For when we wanted to escape from our guests and make love in the afternoon.’ Tom grinned. ‘Come and look upstairs.’ It was a tall house with five rooms on the first floor and four on the second, with a bathroom on each.
‘Oh, Tom. What would we do with all these rooms?’
‘Anything you like, or just close them up and do nothing. Come on, there’s more.’
‘More?’
‘Yes.’ She followed him downstairs and he opened a door beneath the stairs and led her down into the basement. It had a high window running from one end of the room to the other so that people walking on the pavement above could be seen and the light came flooding in to reflect on the sunshine-yellow walls.
‘Oh, Tom. I thought this would be a dark, dismal cellar. It’s beautiful.’
‘It was used by the children as a playroom, but it could be anything we liked. A dining room. A maid’s quarters.’
‘Maid? We won’t have a maid.’
‘Well, maybe not at first, but later when we begin a family.’
‘Oh! Tom, I don’t know. It would all be wasted; we should never use all these rooms. It’s more suitable as a guest house.’ Tom grinned. ‘Exactly.’
‘What? You mean we could take in boarders?’
‘If you wished. I can’t see you being happy doing nothing. It would be entirely up to you, of course.’
Nellie’s eyes widened. ‘Me? Running a boarding house? I couldn’t.’
‘All right, if you couldn’t we’ll look for something smaller.’
‘No, wait. Oh, Tom, it’s a lovely house but I’d be scared. Besides, it would cost a fortune.’
‘Actually, it wouldn’t. The family have moved abroad and want a quick sale. Never mind, if you don’t want it.’
‘I do.’ Nellie had fallen in love with the place and was already planning the layout of the dining room in her mind’s eye.
Tom lifted her off her feet and spun her round. ‘Yippee! I love it, but I had to find out what you thought.’
‘I love it too. But I’d be scared of taking in boarders. What if I couldn’t cope?’
‘You’d have some help of course, and I dare say my mother would find a new lease of life. She can’t get enough of entertaining and would be in her glory titivating the rooms and arranging flowers. She doesn’t mind cleaning either, not that she’d need to do that. We’d employ a cleaner, maybe two.’
‘Oh, I don’t know, Tom.’ Nellie climbed the stairs to the ground floor and wandered from lounge to kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers, inspecting the walk-in pantry. ‘Yes, we’ll do it. We shall need a dumb waiter though, down to the dining room.’
Tom grinned. ‘What about the furniture? Shall we keep it or renew?’
‘Keep it; it’s nice, but we shall need the dining room fitting out. Then there’ll be the bedrooms to sort out, into doubles, family and single.’ Tom’s instinct had been right. Nellie would never have been happy with nothing to do.
‘And a double for us.’
‘Oh yes, definitely a double for us. Let’s test the one in the first room; after all we need to know how comfortable it is before we let the room. Oh Tom, it’s going to cost you a fortune.’
‘Nellie, you’re marrying a rich man, my love. Thanks to my grandmother. And I’ve a feeling that between us we might become even richer. Now, hadn’t we better get down to testing the beds?’
The birth of little Rosie had diverted Lucy’s thoughts away from Evelyn’s death, though Lucy still wasn’t happy for Bernard to be out of her sight. When he played in the yard with the other children she was forever looking out to make sure he was safe. He played quite happily with Mrs Cadman’s son Donald, who was now a robust and healthy little boy. Mrs Cadman knew what it was like to be anxious after her son’s illness and promised she would keep them within her sight. Lucy had regained her slim fig
ure and was excited about dressing up for Nellie’s wedding and showing off her new daughter, who seemed to grow more beautiful every day. Lucy had never seen the sea and couldn’t believe they were to spend a weekend in Blackpool. The whole family were to travel by charabanc. Mr Smith – Nellie’s boss – had arranged the transport and had given his staff a couple of days off as a thank you present to Nellie. Mr Smith, of course, was travelling by train. He was far too posh to ride on a chara. He would be travelling back in a brand new car, bought at a discount from his friend Tom Johnson.
Nellie was at present training a new cook, who would take over at the manor when she left. Mrs Cooper had shed a few tears at the news that Nellie was leaving, but the invitation to the wedding had soon cheered her up. Because Lily and Larry had also received an invitation Mrs Cooper had all on to prevent Lily from going into a frenzy of excitement, which took her mind off Nellie’s forthcoming departure.
Nellie’s worry was that her new home wouldn’t be ready in time to accommodate her family and friends overnight, but Tom had promised to arrange hotel accommodation in the unlikely event that their home was unfinished. Margaret Johnson was ecstatic. Not only was Tom marrying Nellie but the couple had asked her to oversee the alterations to their new home. Nellie had told her what was to be done and to Margaret’s delight had asked her advice on a number of things. She was keeping the workmen on their toes and Nellie had given Margaret a free hand to fit out the bedrooms with curtains and bedding. Henry Johnson hadn’t seen his wife so animated in years and was able to nip off unnoticed to the garage. Henry had never been as contented as when he was wearing an old pair of overalls and covered in engine oil. Nellie Gabbitas had given both him and his wife a new lease of life, for which Henry would be eternally grateful.
Ben and Emma were just enjoying dinner when Mrs Scott showed two plainclothes detectives through the shop and interrupted them.
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