by June Tate
‘Yes, no problems. All our residents are in bed. I’ve laid up the tables for breakfast. Do you want anything to drink?’
‘No thanks, love. I’m off to bed.’
‘I’ll come up with you then.’ Cora put out the lights and they left the kitchen.
It was late on the following Saturday when Belle was tidying up a few papers she’d been working on and Cora had gone to bed when the front doorbell rang. She looked at her watch. Ten-thirty, who would possibly be calling this late? Perhaps it was someone looking for a room. Well, she was fully booked so they’d be unlucky. She opened the door.
Kev stood there, an alcoholic grin on his face. He pushed past her and walked into the kitchen.
She followed him. ‘How dare you come charging into my house uninvited? Get out!’
He leant against the kitchen sink and sneered at her.
‘Now, Belle, that’s no way to greet an old friend,’ he said, slurring his words. ‘I’ve come to discuss our arrangement.’
She was livid. ‘First of all, you are no old friend and we do not have an arrangement!’
The smile faded and he glared at her. ‘Not yet we don’t, but if you know what’s good for you, you’d better change your mind. After all, my sanctimonious brother would be shocked to know he dined with one of the most popular prostitutes that ever walked the streets of Southampton.’
‘You bastard! There is no way I’d let you into my life and certainly never into my bed. You’d better get that fact through your thick head.’
His tone was menacing as he stared at her. ‘You are the one who’s thick, my dear, if you think I’m going away. I’m holding a great hand of cards, remember that. I can ruin you, now that alone is worth a good night’s sex.’ He lunged forward and grabbed her, forcing his mouth on hers, his hand on her breast.
She pushed him away with such force he nearly fell and grabbed at the sink as Belle picked up a large kitchen knife and held it at his throat.
Her eyes glittered with rage as she held the knife. ‘Don’t ever think I wouldn’t have the guts to use this if pushed. All I would have to say was that you attacked me and in my own defence I picked up the first thing that came to hand.’ She pushed just a little harder and the point of the knife punctured his skin and a drop of blood oozed forth.
‘You bloody mad woman, put that down before you do something you’ll be sorry for.’ But she saw the fear in his eyes as he spoke.
‘Your brother would be furious if he knew you came in here and tried to rape me,’ she said. ‘You’d be out of a job then. No money, no home.’
‘Rape you? I didn’t bloody rape you!’
‘Who’s to know? It would be your word against mine. After all, I may have been on the game but at least I was earning a living, whereas you’ve been a waster all your life. Your brother would testify to that.’ She stepped away from him, but still pointed the knife at him.
Kev put his hand to his throat and saw the blood. ‘You fucking bitch! You cut me!’
‘Just be careful I don’t bloody castrate you if you come bothering me again. Now get out!’ She jabbed the knife towards him as she spoke.
Cursing beneath his breath, he staggered to the door and out into the night.
Belle closed the front door and leant against it. She was trembling now that she was alone. The terrible thing, she admitted to herself, was the fact that she was sorely tempted to use the weapon she’d been holding. That scared her more than the devious Kev.
She walked back to the kitchen and threw the knife into the sink. Then she poured herself a stiff gin and tonic, lit a cigarette, took a large swig of the drink and sat down. Bloody hell, she thought, that was very dicey. The outcome could have been disastrous. Kev could have tried to rape her and then she might have been tempted to … it didn’t bear thinking about. But had she scared him enough? As long as he was around, he was a menace. She’d have to do something about it – and soon.
Kev staggered along the road, cursing. That bitch Belle had stabbed him. ‘Fucking lunatic!’ He had been taken by surprise at her reaction and was mad at himself for being outfoxed. Well now she’d really pissed him off and he would make her pay if it was the last thing he did. She may well have had the upper hand tonight, but she had no idea who she was messing with.
He let himself in the side door of the shop and climbed the stairs to his bedroom. He stripped off his shirt and vest, went to the bathroom and swilled his face with cold water. Then putting his mouth under the running tap, drank, quenching his alcoholic-induced thirst – all the time planning his revenge.
Chapter Thirty-One
The answer to her predicament came from an unexpected source when Simon came to call a couple of days later. He’d been sent over to the island on police matters and when it was finished he’d called to see Cora, but she was at the hairdressers. Belle invited him in and made him a sandwich and a cup of coffee.
‘You’ll have the neighbours talking after seeing you here in uniform,’ she teased. ‘They’ll think I’ve been up to no good.’
‘And have you?’ he asked with a grin.
Belle frowned and hesitated as she thought about the night that Kev had called and therefore took some time to answer. ‘No, of course not.’
He studied her for a moment then asked, ‘What’s bothering you, Belle?’ She began to deny it, but he intervened. ‘Belle, I’ve been interviewing folk for years, I know when they are not being truthful or have something to hide. Now I’m your friend, what’s worrying you? Perhaps I can help.’
She then told him the whole story even about pricking Kev’s throat with a knife, enough to make it bleed. She looked at him, eyes wide with horror. ‘I was so tempted, Simon!’
‘But you didn’t do it. However, we can’t have this man threatening you. I could have him up for blackmail and intimidation at least. How about I go and pay him a visit? Perhaps seeing me in uniform may be enough to frighten him of the consequences.’
‘Do you think so?’
‘We could give it a try.’
‘One other thing, Simon. I didn’t tell Cora any of this as I didn’t want to worry her.’
He looked at his watch. ‘Don’t worry about that, this will be between us. Look I have to go, give Cora my love and I’ll be in touch with her this evening. Now what does this man look like and where is the butcher’s shop?’
Simon walked along the parade of shops and saw Harrison and Son above the frontage of what was obviously a butcher’s shop and entered. There were two men behind the counter and Simon recognised the man he was seeking from Belle’s description, but it was Tom who stepped forward.
‘Afternoon Constable, what can I do for you?’
‘Afternoon, I’d like to have a word with your brother if you don’t mind … in private.’
Tom looked surprised – but not nearly as much as Kev.
‘Yes, of course,’ said Tom. He looked at his brother with a frown but only said, ‘Take the constable through to the back room.’
Simon followed Kev into a room where big fridges were housed with a large chopping block standing in the middle and a sink on one side. It was here that Kev stood.
He glared at Simon. ‘What do you want to see me for?’ he demanded.
‘Intimidation and blackmail, for openers,’ Simon said firmly.
‘What? What the bloody hell are you talking about?’
‘I’m talking about your visit to Miss Belle Newman last Saturday night.’
‘What’s that bitch been saying?’ Kev’s face flushed with anger.
‘I’m told you were drunk and forced your way into her house, then threatened and molested her.’
‘What a bloody pack of lies! Yes, I called on her, we knew each other during the war. I was just renewing our acquaintance,’ he blustered.
‘Don’t lie, Harrison. I know why you went there. You threatened to tell everyone about her past unless she did you favours, like sleeping with you as a price for your silence, then you
tried to force yourself on her.’
‘Your Belle Newman is no bloody angel, did she tell you that too?’
‘She didn’t need to, I know of her past history and if I have to, I’ll be looking into yours before I arrest you. Today you get off with a warning, but if you trouble Miss Newman again I’ll have you. Understand?’
‘Did she tell you she knifed me?’
‘Where? Show me.’
Kev pointed to his throat. ‘Here!’
Simon examined his neck closely. ‘Funny, I can’t see a thing. I’ll be keeping tabs on you, so make sure you keep out of trouble!’ He turned and went into the shop.
‘Thank you,’ he said to Tom with a nod, then he walked out.
As Kev was about to go back to the shop, Tom grabbed him by his shirt front and pushed him back into the room. ‘You bastard! I heard what you did. Now you can go and pack your bags. I don’t want to ever see you again.’
With a derisive laugh, Kev glared at his brother. ‘You would put her before me – your own flesh and blood – that whore? Because that’s how we met in the war. Your special lady was a common prostitute!’
Tom hit him with a clenched fist and sent him flying backwards onto the floor.
‘Whatever she was, she’s a better human being than you’ll ever be. Now pack your bags and get out. I’ll give you a week’s wages and a week’s holiday pay, but don’t ever come near me again. Clear?’
‘Crystal!’ snapped his brother as he removed his white overall and threw it on the floor.
Tom walked back into the shop, fuming, but a customer walked in and his expression changed. Smiling, he said, ‘Good afternoon and what can I get you?’
Upstairs, Kev was thrusting his clothes into a suitcase, muttering to himself. ‘You bitch! You’ve cost me my job and my home, you bloody well are going to pay, Belle Newman, and that constable can go take a running jump!’
He put on his jacket, walked downstairs and marched into the shop. ‘I’ve come for my money!’
Tom handed over a small pay packet and just glared at him.
‘You’re making a big mistake,’ he said glaring back. ‘She’ll take you down too if you keep seeing her.’
‘Get out!’ Tom said quietly.
‘You’ll see that I’m right,’ Kev said as he walked out into the street.
That evening after the close of business, Tom went upstairs and poured himself a glass of beer, then he sat and in his mind, relived the revelations of the afternoon. He was pleased to be rid of his brother, he’d never felt at ease with him around, but the reasons behind his going were still a shock. Firstly the fact that Kev had called on Belle and attacked her, but secondly at discovering Belle’s background. That had really taken him by surprise – but strangely, it didn’t seem to matter. Everyone had a past of some kind. The Belle he knew was an entirely different woman, one that he really liked. Hard-working, charming, funny. She’d slaved so hard getting her place together for her business and he admired her work ethic, having worked hard himself … unlike his no good brother. No, that waster wasn’t going to spoil his friendship with her in any way.
The same evening the telephone rang and Belle answered: it was Simon.
‘Belle, before I speak to Cora I want you to know I called on that man and read him the Riot Act. Hopefully you won’t be troubled any further, but listen, I’ve met his type many times. Just be vigilant. Make sure you lock your doors and windows at night … just a word of warning. You can’t be too careful.’
‘Thanks, Simon, I’m really grateful. Just a minute, I’ll call Cora.’
Kev booked himself into a B&B on the outskirts of Shanklin, intent on making Belle pay for his dismissal from his job and home. He went to a nearby pub and ordered a sandwich and a pint of beer, which he took outside and sat in the garden of the pub, scheming.
He was wasting his time spreading rumours about her, he needed something instantaneous. Her business was the thing that was most important to her, it was the way she earned her living – the very thing she’d taken from him. Well, he’d now do the same to her, he decided. An eye for an eye, as the Bible said. He drank up and made his way to a tobacconist where he bought several bottles of lighter fluid.
It was getting late and Belle was tired. Her guests had left that morning and Cora had helped her strip the beds, clean the rooms and remake them for their next clients who arrived two days hence, which gave them a short break. Cora had then taken a late ferry to Southampton to meet Simon and stay overnight.
After checking the rooms, locking the doors and windows, Belle sat in the kitchen having a cup of tea and a cigarette. She was looking at her ledger, assessing her takings and smiled with satisfaction. Even halfway through her first season, she was making money. All her efforts had paid off. The money she’d earned in her earlier profession had bought her her dream. She was a success. Every man who’d paid for her services had paid for the house she loved and she didn’t regret any of it.
Washing up her cup and saucer, she checked that the back door was locked, turned out the lights and went upstairs, thankful that tomorrow she could spend an extra hour in bed if she had a mind to.
Across the road, Kev sat, hidden from sight. He waited until the house was in darkness, gave Belle time to fall asleep, then he crept over the road, clutching a small bag in his hand. He smiled as he withdrew an old cloth from the bag and soaked it in petrol, and then he did the same with two more. Walking round the back of the house, he broke a small window, lit the cloth and threw it inside, followed by another. He watched as they erupted into flames, and then he did the same at the front door, pushing the burning rag through the letter box. He watched for a while, making sure that the fire he’d planned had worked, then he left.
Belle was restless. She’d dozed off for a while, but something woke her. She listened, but all was quiet. She turned over but couldn’t get comfortable. In the end she sat up, plumped her pillows and was about to lay down, when she sniffed the air. What the hell was that smell? It was as if something was burning. She got up and opened her bedroom door and saw the smoke. Fortunately the floor in the hallway by the front door was all flags of stone but upon them, near the door, something that looked like a heap of cloth was burning. She opened the front door, picked up an umbrella from the stand and flicked it outside, then she saw flames through the open kitchen door. She rushed to the phone and called the fire brigade then made her way to the kitchen. Her cupboards were burning. She filled a washing-up basin with water and hurled it over the flames, but she knew it was too far gone for her to cope so she fled into the hall, closing the door behind her as she heard the sound of the fire engine approaching.
The men hustled her outside whilst they tackled the fire in the kitchen. Nearby neighbours came out to see what was going on and comforted her.
‘How did it start?’ asked one.
‘I’ve no idea,’ Belle told them, but in her heart she knew.
The police car drew up and two constables stepped out and walked over to her. They took down her details and asked her what happened. They searched for the piece of rag she had tossed out and realised that the fire was deliberate.
‘Have you any idea who would have done such a thing, Miss Newman?’ asked one.
‘Oh yes, I have a very good idea.’
A few hours later, it was deemed safe for Belle to enter the house. The police accompanied her into the kitchen. The sad sight that greeted her brought tears to Belle’s eyes. As far as she could see, the cooker was intact, most of her crockery and cutlery which had been housed at the other end of the room were fine, but the cupboards by the back door were burnt as well as the door. The walls were black and the smell of smoke was thick. She would have to cancel her bookings until it was fixed. She thanked the firemen profusely.
‘Just doing our job, miss. We’re just pleased that you woke when you did, or the consequences could have been so much worse.’
She took the police into the front room, leaving the f
ront door open to let out the smell of smoke and she said, ‘No one is going to walk in unannounced with a police car outside!’
She gave them a statement and told them everything she knew about Kev Harrison. How she first met him, how he’d threatened her. She mentioned that Simon Pritchard had called on him to warn him off, but she was convinced that Kev was behind all of this.
They said they’d go to the butcher’s shop and question him. They advised her to try and get some sleep and that they’d be in touch.
She showed them out and went back to the kitchen, trying to estimate the damage now she’d calmed down. The cupboards would have to be replaced and the back door which was badly scorched. The whole kitchen would have to be painted as well as the hallway where the walls were black from the smoke. She would be out of business for at least a couple of weeks, she estimated – and that was only if she could get everything done quickly.
‘You bastard, Harrison!’ she uttered as her anger rose deep inside her. Apart from the damage he’d caused, she’d had to give the police details of her past, so now it was no longer a secret. Would it come out? Of course it would, if they could prove he did it and the case went to court. It would be in the papers and she was sure the headlines wouldn’t be pretty.
While Belle was trying to sort out her troubles, Tom had opened the door of his flat in answer to the loud knocking. He was surprised to see two policemen on the doorstep and even more so when they asked to see Kev.
‘He no longer lives here, I fired him yesterday. Why are you looking for him?’ When the police told him, he said, ‘You’d better come in.’ He then told them about Simon’s visit and what he’d overheard which was the reason he’d told his brother to leave.
‘Do you know where he is now?’
‘I’ve no idea, but if the fire was only hours ago, he must still be on the island.’
