Private Sorrow, A

by Reynolds, Maureen

  Her mother had remained silent and Etta knew that she had worked out the truth. But Etta wasn’t worried. She knew her mother would never say a word. How fortunate she had been that Dad had confessed and then died. And Robina had died as well. What great scapegoats.

  She had adored her father but recently he was beginning to annoy and worry her by always asking where she went, especially at night in the car. Lately, he had taken the battery out of it, saying it was flat, but even that had worked in her favour. She had sent the letter to her mother, knowing it was the farmers’ day in the centre of the town. It was so simple to give her a hard push. Too bad the bus had managed to stop. Then that old woman who stopped to help her had made it impossible for Etta to try to finish the job, but that had also worked in her favour because the stranger would muddle the police’s description of suspects.

  Etta’s earlier attempt to hit her mother with the car had also failed, but she had succeeded in making Vera a nervous wreck living on sleeping pills. The fire at Molly McQueen’s flat had been carefully planned but then those young lads had arrived in the nick of time. She hadn’t even succeeded with Peter Walsh, though his injuries would serve as good enough punishment for the way he had treated her.

  When the train reached Edinburgh, instead of staying on it, she got off and waited for the train to London. She hadn’t mentioned this to the policeman but that was where she and her dad had gone when they left Dundee. There was a farm a few miles from London; Lenny had been due to start work there but they had taken his place. Luckily, her father had kept the small cottage with the two acres of ground when they sold the farm to move to the Borders.

  She had been annoyed when he suggested buying Sidlaw Farm but that’s when she decided to pretend to be a man. This gave her so much pleasure because she could come and go and no one was any the wiser. Once again she smiled. She could just imagine the faces of the couple who now lived in the cottage at Dumfries when the removal van turned up. The poor men wouldn’t know what to do with her things and, as far as she was concerned, she didn’t care what they did with it. She bought a paper from the newsagent’s stall and a takeaway cup of tea from the buffet. Her train was due in ten minutes, so she sat down on a bench and waited.

  64

  5 October 1930

  She had been sick again that morning and her dad had heard her as she retched over the bowl in the outside toilet. Of course, he knew what was wrong and she had to confess she was expecting a baby.

  She had gone to see Peter. His face blanched when she told him they would have to get married. He was frightened. ‘I can’t get married, Etta. We’re both just sixteen. And anyway, everyone knows you can’t get pregnant the first time.’

  But she had and it hadn’t even been an enjoyable encounter. She had tried to see him twice again that week but he was dodging her. She thought her dad would go and see Peter but, instead, he suggested taking the train to Arbroath. ‘The sea air will do you good, Etta.’

  She wasn’t fooled. He was going to see that Sasha Lowson and ask her for help in solving her problem. She had made up her mind and the last person she wanted to see was that stuck-up trainee doctor.

  Then fate had stepped in on the way to the station. Standing at the entrance, looking at the departure board was Lenny Barr. Dad was so pleased to see him. ‘Where are you off to then, Lenny?’ said Dad, eyeing the big suitcase.

  ‘I’ve got this new job on a farm near London, Dave, and I’m just checking the times of the train. I see it’s nine o’clock tonight.’

  ‘Then come with us to Arbroath. Vera’s in hospital and we have to be back by one o’clock, so come along and we’ll catch up with the news.’

  ‘What about my case?’ asked Lenny.

  Dad said, ‘Give it to me and I’ll put it in the left luggage office.’ He put the ticket in his pocket, meaning to give it to Lenny but the train drew in, so they hurried along the platform to catch it.

  Etta was delighted to be with Lenny. Her sickness had passed but she still looked peaky. Lenny asked her how she was and if she liked her job. Etta made a face. ‘Not really. In fact, I hate it.’

  Lenny spoke to her father after that. ‘I’ve landed this great job. The woman who runs the farm is needing a man to manage it.’

  Dad asked if he had been down for an interview but Lenny said no, he hadn’t; it had all been done by letter and a couple of phone calls. He also said he was frightened of missing his train so Dad had taken his watch off and told Lenny to wear it until they were back in Dundee.

  When they reached Arbroath, they decided to walk along the cliff path to see the wonderful views. It was a cold day but it wasn’t raining. Dave walked along in front while Etta kept Lenny well behind. Suddenly, Etta grabbed his hand and said she was in love with him and could he please take her away with him. Lenny was shocked. ‘I can’t do that, Etta. For a start, you’re just a child and I’m almost twice your age.’

  ‘But you don’t look it, Lenny, and I’ve always been in love with you.’

  Lenny glared at Etta, a look that frightened her, and sounded firm when he told her, ‘I don’t love you. In fact, I love someone else very much and that’s why I’m leaving. She’s married and she can’t leave her husband and family.’

  The truth had hit her right between the eyes. ‘You’re talking about my mother, aren’t you?’

  He said ‘no’, but he was evasive and she knew she was right. Her mother was in love with another man. A deep anger grew in her as she realised that another man was rejecting her. She swung her hand to give him a slap on the face but he grabbed it. She used her other arm to give him a shove and then, to her horror, Lenny disappeared over the edge and she heard him scream as he fell hundreds of feet into the foaming water beneath the cliffs. Her father had run back. He had taken off his jacket and he was just wearing his shirt and trousers. His face was one of horror and fright. He peered over the edge but there was no sign of Lenny. ‘I must go down and see if he’s lying injured,’ he said, but she had cried and clung to his arm.

  ‘It was an accident, Dad. I didn’t mean to push him.’

  He said it was all right. The best thing to do was for her to get the next train back and he would follow behind, after making sure there was no hope for Lenny. She did as she was told and managed to get into the house without being seen. Her dad had arrived later when it was dark and told her there was no hope of finding Lenny alive. Some other people had heard the scream and the police were out searching, but there was no sign of the body.

  She then told him about Lenny and her mother. Dad went quiet, then he said, ‘The police will think it was done deliberately and you’ll go to jail.’ Etta had howled when he said that.

  Later, he decided that he would take Lenny’s place on the train and when the body was found and identified, he would come back and tell them he did it and that it was an accident. Etta wanted to come as well but he had tried to dissuade her. ‘Your mother needs you, Etta.’

  ‘No she doesn’t. I want to come with you.’

  So they had sneaked out of the house, picked up the suitcase from the office and boarded the train to another life. Luckily, her dad had put the left luggage ticket in his pocket and Lenny had his train ticket in the suitcase. It was just a small matter of buying a train ticket to Edinburgh for Etta and they bought another one for London when they arrived there.

  Dad was annoyed he had lost his treasured watch but it was a small price to pay for Etta’s safety. The fact that Lenny was wearing it made her mother identify the body as Dave’s. Once they had read this news and found out that Etta was presumed a runaway, they knew the truth would stay hidden.

  The baby was never born. A couple of weeks into their new life, Etta suffered a miscarriage. Dad said it was probably the stress and shock of Lenny’s death. That was another blessing because she knew she would have made a rotten mother.

  The farm had been good for both of them. Mrs Chalmers was a bit older than Dad, but she was very good to Etta a
nd they got along quite well. Then Dad married her but a little while later she died unexpectedly, and they were pleased to find she had left her farm to them.

  65

  Molly went to see Vera to return the photographs. She was sitting looking through the album when Molly arrived and she slotted them neatly back into their spaces. ‘I had a happy childhood on the farm, but Robina always frightened me. She was much older than me and I think she resented me when I was born. She used to hit me when Mum and Dad weren’t looking, until the day Dad saw her and told her to go and look for lodgings. That’s when she went to work for the convent. Of course, that made her hate me all the more.’

  Molly didn’t know what to say, so she stayed silent. ‘Etta told me she was full of remorse at hitting you, Molly, but she did think you were a burglar.’

  Molly nodded but didn’t believe a word of it. Etta had known what she was doing all right. Molly felt so sorry for Vera, though. She had found her daughter only to lose her again. ‘You did a good job in finding Etta, Dave and Robina. To think they were all living near at hand and I never knew. Still, I’m planning to go and see Etta when she gets settled in her new cottage. She gave me the address.’

  She showed Molly the piece of paper and Molly agreed. ‘That’s what you should do and through time, you can both build up your relationship again. It will just take time.’

  Molly didn’t want to stay, as Vera looked like she wanted to be alone with her thoughts of what might have been. She had been dealt a triple bad hand with the deaths of her sister and husband and Etta not wanting to stay with her. ‘Vera, Deanna, who works at the agency, is in a play at the Rep theatre. We were all thinking of going to see her on Saturday night and I wondered if you would like to come along? It’s a comedy and seemingly very funny.’

  Vera shook her head. ‘Thank you for asking but Mrs Jankowski has arranged a bridge night with Una and Henry and she wants me to make up the foursome. I said I would go, but I’m not looking forward to it.’

  ‘It will get you out of the house, Vera, and do you good to meet with your friends again.’

  Vera looked as if she wouldn’t care if she never saw another living soul again but she said, ‘I suppose so.’

  Molly’s head was still painful but she was getting the stitches out this afternoon and hopefully she would be able to wash her hair thoroughly. Charlie appeared at dinner time. ‘I can’t stay long. I had the Dumfries police check on Etta Barton and it seems she never got off that train. When they checked the cottage, they found a couple of irate removal men with a van full of furniture and nowhere to put it. The couple who live in the cottage have been there since Dave Barton sold the farm to them a year ago.’

  Molly had to sit down. She was shocked. ‘Where has she gone?’

  ‘That,’ said Charlie, ‘is the $64,000 question.’

  ‘I’ve just left Vera’s house and she was planning on visiting Etta. What kind of person does this to her mother … again?’

  Charlie ran his hand through his hair. ‘We’ll just have to wait and see where she reappears – if she ever does.’

  ‘If it’s any comfort to the people she attacked, I don’t think she’ll show her face here again. She knows that we suspect her of Lenny Barr’s death and all the attacks.’

  ‘Yes, well, I have to go. I’ve got a desk full of paperwork to write up but I’ll see you later, Molly.’

  Later that afternoon, Molly went to the doctor’s surgery. He snipped the stitches but it was very sore as her hair got caught up with the scissors, and not for the first time, Molly cursed Etta Barton.

  When she got back to the agency, it was almost dark. Jean said that all the staff were keen to go see Deanna’s play. Mary, Edna and Alice had asked if they could bring a friend. Molly looked surprised at the mention of Alice’s name. Jean said yes – it was a friend called Sandy. ‘You haven’t seen her for a wee while but what a transformation. She’s got a new hairstyle, and a new coat and dress.’

  Molly was pleased. ‘Good for her. I hope it lasts.’ Then she added, ‘Put Marigold’s name down and I’ll phone her. As she went up to her flat, she felt it was a good thing to have something to look forward to. It had been a tough few weeks but hopefully it was all over.

  Vera sat well into the night with her photograph album, reminiscing over happier times when Etta was a baby. Things had been less enjoyable when Dave came home from the war. It wasn’t his fault, these things happened to the young men who had been traumatised with the horror and bloodshed of the trenches. He had never really settled down but there was no faulting his devotion to Etta. It was his devotion to his wife that was lacking.

  She remembered Alexander Lenny Barr. They had fallen in love almost from the first day they had met but she had refused to go off with him. She had a husband and daughter to look after. He had accepted her decision and he was the one to leave for another part of the country. What a rotten hand fate had dealt him to meet up on that awful day with Dave and Etta. All those years, when she thought Dave was dead and Lenny was still alive, she would lie awake at night and wonder where he was. She never dreamed his was the body she had identified; that horrible bloated body with no recognisable features.

  However, she had to stop thinking like this. Etta was alive and although she didn’t want her mother’s help and love, at least she wasn’t dead like her dad and Lenny. Thinking of Etta, Vera couldn’t help but shudder as she thought again how alike her daughter was to her sister. She remembered that day in 1929 when Robina had arrived at their house and gone on and on about Etta being born in sin. She had said the wages of sin were death and, up to a point, that had turned out to be true. Etta had been put out to play but Vera had found her listening outside the door as Robina left and she never forgot the look on her daughter’s face. Etta was mesmerised by her aunt and from that point on she seemed eager to uphold Robina’s warped sense of retribution. Then, when she hit the children at school, Vera saw how alike they truly were and she had been very afraid.

  She took out the piece of paper with Etta’s address and threw it on the fire, where it curled up in the flames before disintegrating into ash. Just like my life, Vera thought. She knew Etta wasn’t staying there. Dave had told her the true address and his final words had been, ‘Forgive me, Vera, but I had to protect Etta. You do understand, don’t you?’

  She had nodded and said, ‘Yes, I understand.’ Then she held his hand till he passed away.

  66

  Etta boarded the train for London. No longer would she dress as a woman. Her brown pin-striped suit with a white shirt and tie looked so smart with the well-polished brogues. She was amused when she looked at her one suitcase. Like Robina who had been wealthy but lived simply, she would do the same. Dad had invested the money from the sale of the farm in her name and she was also rich.

  She recalled the one time she had been in Robina’s home. She had become worried after she hadn’t turned up at the meeting point on the spare bit of ground near Robina’s flat. That night, she decided to go and see her. Robina had given her a key. It was pitch-black and stormy and people’s curtains were drawn.

  To her surprise, she had found Robina lying dead. She was having a quick look in the desk, in case Robina had left any incriminating evidence, when she found the will. Everything had been left to the convent in Dublin. Like the Mother Superior, she had thought it would only be a few pounds. Then she saw the policeman looking up at the window, so she had hurried away, barely having time to shove the will back in its envelope.

  That was the night her father had taken the battery from her car, when she arrived home late and covered in mud from waiting in the rain. Imagine her surprise when her mother told her it was £75,000. What a pity she hadn’t left it to her niece.

  She had big plans for the cottage and the grounds. She would grow all her own vegetables and keep chickens, maybe some goats and a couple of dogs, and live happily ever after. She wouldn’t bother with people. The cottage lay off the beaten track and s
he would become a recluse and live only for her animals. She settled back in her seat with a contented sigh. She deeply regretted Lenny’s death. If she hadn’t been in such a rage and then heard his feelings of love for her mother, then she wouldn’t have pushed him. But she had and she couldn’t undo the past.

  However, she had no regrets about Peter Walsh. In fact, she had hoped she had killed him but apparently he would survive. Bad luck. She was also not sorry about her mother and the McQueen woman. They had all got what they deserved. She had been rejected, lied to and had her life poked into, so she had dealt out fair retribution. She sat and watched the countryside pass by the window and closed her eyes for a sleep.

  Confession is good for the soul. Now where did that thought come from?

  Probably from Aunt Robina.

  Hopefully the nightmares were a thing of the past and those nights when she kept falling through space onto jagged rocks and foaming waves were now in the past. No longer would she wake up covered with sweat and the intense desire for retribution for her mother.

  Oh yes, from now on there would be no need for confession.

  As the train sped through the countryside, she slept soundly.

  67

  The big night was here. Deanna was thrilled that all her friends were coming to see her. Marigold arrived in time for tea and was staying the night with Molly. ‘Well, you’ll be glad this case is over, Molly,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, I am. It’s been a hard slog, Marigold, and all for nothing. Etta’s cleared off again and Vera is back to where she started.’

  Marigold was quiet for a moment and then she said, ‘At least she’s knows where she’s staying. That’s a good thing.’

  ‘But she doesn’t. Charlie said she had no intention of going to Dumfries, and goodness only knows where she is now.’