Changing Patterns

by Judith Barrow

  Now she felt fiercely protective. When the policeman leaned towards Linda and said, ‘Okay, let’s try again,’ Ellen interrupted.

  ‘Do we have to do this now?’

  ‘Yes, the sooner we know what the man looks like, the sooner we can concentrate on who we’re looking for.’

  ‘You can leave this to us.’ Patrick slapped his clenched fist into the palm of his other hand.

  ‘We can’t.’ Detective Hardcastle exchanged angry looks with Patrick. ‘We have other reasons to find this man, as you may know.’ Turning slightly away from Linda he moved his eyes towards her with a small tilt of his head. ‘I just wonder when you were going to tell us you’d found her. And where.’ He waited, his eyes wandering over the three of them. They refused to meet his gaze. ‘If someone hadn’t reported seeing you going into the old camp we wouldn’t have known anything about it.’

  Ellen shivered. The thought of the murdered boy had haunted her from the moment she’d heard about him. Her heart went out to the mother and she was almost ashamed of the relief that it was him and not her daughter; almost, but not quite.

  ‘Look, the description of this man could be the nearest lead we’ve had so far. I’ve got some men in the old camp now, looking for anything they can find that might identify this chap. In the meantime…’ He swung back in his chair and smiled at Linda, leaning on the bed. ‘Let’s start with his hair, eh sweetheart. Try to think what that looked like.’

  Linda held her lower lip between the tips of her finger and thumb. It was cut and swollen from when the man had pushed the cup at her mouth. She reluctantly made the picture of the man in her head. ‘Like the curly horns of the big goat in the Billy Goats Gruff story, Mummy,’ Linda said. ‘Funny colour, like your blouse.’ It frightened her to think about him but that was how she remembered the man’s hair the first time she saw him, frizzing up around his head in the sunlight.

  ‘Hey, cheeky monkey, leave the colour of my blouse alone.’ Ellen leant over to tickle Linda’s chin.

  Everyone laughed. It lightened the atmosphere for a second.

  ‘Orange? Ginger!’ A note of triumph in the policeman’s voice. ‘Good girl.’ He looked at each of them in turn. ‘Ring any bells?’

  Ellen and Ted shook their heads.

  Loud as a bloody church bell, Patrick thought. But he’d keep the information to himself. He’d be the one to kill the bastard.

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Funny nose.’ Linda pushed her nose to one side.

  ‘Broken nose?’ Again his gaze swept over them.

  No response.

  Linda touched her cheek. ‘His face was really red … here … bumpy.’ She touched the other cheek. ‘But not on this side.’ She thought for a moment. ‘No.’ She swopped sides again with her hand. ‘Just this side.’

  ‘Like a burn?’

  She shrugged. ‘Mummy?’

  ‘She doesn’t understand,’ Ellen said.

  ‘That’s fine. Anything else?’

  ‘He had a ring on his finger.’ Linda held up her right hand. ‘This one.’ She pointed to her finger. ‘Big. And like this.’ She drew a square on the sheet. ‘Big,’ she repeated. ‘Dirty nails.’ Now she felt safe, now everyone was looking and smiling at her, as though they were all pleased with her, she felt braver. ‘And he was very smelly – stinky,’ Linda added.

  She was beginning to enjoy herself and was a bit disappointed when the policeman said, ‘Well, I think that’s enough for now.’ He stood and smiled down at her. ‘You’ve done really well, Linda. I wish all our witnesses were as good.’ He patted her head. ‘See you again sometime, eh?’

  ‘Yes.’ She snuggled down under the covers and closed her eyes in pretend sleep.

  The men moved away.

  ‘You sure this doesn’t ring any bells?’ Detective Hardcastle asked.

  Again Ted shook his head.

  ‘Mr Howarth?’ He stared steadily at Patrick.

  ‘Nope, no bugger I know.’

  The policeman looked as if he didn’t believe him. Nowt he can do, Patrick thought, but a hell of a lot I fucking can, if I ever manage to find him. He repeated his earlier thought to himself. I can kill the bastard.

  Chapter 85

  ‘He’s got good sturdy legs.’ Ellen stroked Jack’s head.

  ‘He has.’ Jean laughed softly, struggling to change his nappy as he wriggled. She coughed, fully aware that she’d been caught out in her growing fondness for the little boy. Putting her hand between the nappy and his stomach she pushed and fastened the large pin through the towelling cloth.

  ‘Loving him isn’t something to be ashamed of, Jean.’ Ellen picked Jack up from the table and held him close. He grasped a lock of her hair and pushed his face next to hers, making small murmuring sounds. ‘He’s gorgeous.’

  ‘And he’s not mine.’ Jean rinsed the wet nappy under the tap and dropped it into a bucket by the back door. ‘Mother doesn’t think I should be looking after him but what choice have I had this week?’ Instantly mortified, she said, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I would have done anything to help find Linda.’

  ‘I know.’ Ellen’s old antagonism towards Jean had vanished over the last few days.

  She knew Jean had been surprised to see her on the doorstep. But, as Ted had said when he dropped her off at the end of Moss Terrace, ‘If that’s what you feel you need to say, now is as good a time as ever, before Patrick comes back from the market. And it’ll give me a bit of time with William … so two stones and all that.’

  ‘If you don’t mind my saying, I think you should ignore your mother.’ Elsie Winterbottom was a hateful old cow – the thought was automatic. ‘Where is she by the way?’

  ‘Next door. She’s spent a lot of time there lately, while I’ve had Jack. Like I said…’ Jean shrugged.

  ‘Then I’m sorry, but I think she’s mean. Mean and unkind.’ She kissed Jack on the nose. ‘And I think you’re lovely with him.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yes.’ Ellen was firm.

  ‘You don’t think I’m being too soft with Patrick?’

  ‘Well, he needs bringing into line, but I’m sure you’re more than capable of doing that. Anyway is it about him?’

  After Jean dried her hands, Ellen gave her the little boy and went to sit on the back doorstep. It would be easier for her to speak if she didn’t have to face Jean. ‘When I brought Linda home, I didn’t know how Ted would take it. I didn’t even consider his mother.’ She looked at the line of baby clothes, now dried from the day’s sun. ‘But she was hateful almost from the beginning. She’d wait until he wasn’t there … and then she’d start.’ Ellen hugged her knees up to her chin. ‘She’d say the most vile things.’ She glanced over her shoulder at Jean. ‘Oh, I told Ted at first but she denied it, said I’d misunderstood or something. He was good about it, told her to think before she said anything, but he didn’t really understand and I’m obstinate, you know?’

  Jean gave an ironic chuckle. ‘Never?’

  Ellen managed a smile herself. ‘I thought I could deal with her on my own.’ She turned back to look at the yard, spoke thoughtfully. ‘In the end, I couldn’t. I’ll tell you something, shall I?’

  ‘If you want to.’ Jean put Jack into his pram and covered him up. She squashed up to Ellen on the step. The yard was partly in shade now as the sun dropped. The pitch of the roofs of the next row of terraced houses made pointed shadows on the flags.

  ‘I think I killed Hannah.’ Ellen swallowed. ‘It wasn’t any better after we came back from Mary’s. Ted told her she’d have to leave if she didn’t stop but it made her worse. I knew I couldn’t take much more. I couldn’t sleep. I cried most of the time. She used to laugh at me. We’d had the most awful argument and I hit her.’ She heard the intake of breath. ‘I know. I was wrong but I can’t remember a lot of what was said, my head was spinning. She came back at me. I ran … I stayed in the yard for ages. When I went back into the kitchen s
he was lying dead on the floor.

  ‘It doesn’t matter how many times Ted tells me the doctor said her blood pressure was sky high, that she could have died anytime. I think I’ll always blame myself.’ She straightened her back, her voice determined. ‘But I’m going to change, Jean. What happened to Linda’s made sure of that. And I’m ashamed of how I’ve behaved since Tom died, being so selfish, expecting Mary to fuss over me, despite everything she’s gone – is going – through. I have to grow up.’

  There was something else she’d decided as well. She’d heard two nurses talking at the hospital. Nelly Shuttleworth had been to the police, told them that she was mistaken, her son hadn’t been home the day of Tom’s death, wasn’t actually home for over two days at that time. Ellen remembered the sickly heave of her stomach as she eavesdropped on the nurses’ casual conversation. So she’d decided she was going to let Nelly meet Linda. Not at her house, only at Henshaw Street, but it would be a start for Linda to get to know her grandmother.

  She felt Jean’s arm around her shoulder and leant against her plump figure. ‘And I’m sorry. I’ve always been jealous of you.’

  ‘Have you?’ Jean sounded amazed. ‘I didn’t know that.’ There was a hesitation in her next words. ‘Well I’ll let you into a secret now, Ellen. I’ve always envied you being beautiful and slim. So I think we’re quits there, eh?’

  ‘I think we are.’ Ellen lifted her head and smiled at Jean. ‘I know you’re a kind woman, Jean. You’ve always been good with Linda … and you knew what her father was, but that it wasn’t her fault. Any more than it’s Jack’s fault how he was conceived.’

  Jean flinched.

  ‘Try to forget where he came from, Jean. Just think of him as a baby you’ve been given to love. Like Ted loves Linda.’

  Chapter 86

  ‘Okay, this is what’s going to happen.’ Jean sat opposite Patrick. They’d been going around in circles for the last hour. She was sure he was sorry for everything that had happened. She was sure he wanted their lives to go back as they were. But not quite as they were, she told herself. She was even sure that, in his own way, he loved her.

  ‘Ellen told me tonight that the police know George Shuttleworth killed Tom. So get all thoughts of going to look for him right out of your mind.’

  He didn’t answer. He kept his eyes on Jack who was sleeping in his arms.

  ‘Patrick! If you can’t even promise that, we might as well give up now.’

  ‘Right, right.’ He kept his voice low.

  ‘Promise.’

  ‘I promise.’

  ‘Look at me.’

  He lifted his head. ‘I’ll leave it to the police. All right?’

  Jean nodded. ‘Good. We’ve had enough grief to last us a lifetime, you don’t need to go looking for more.’ She watched him caress the baby’s head in the palm of his hand. For a second her whole body cried out at the wrongness of him holding another woman’s child when it should have been hers. She forced the jealousy away. ‘And if you ever raise your hand to me again, Patrick, you’ll never see me or Jacqueline again.’

  This time there was a catch in his voice. ‘I know. I always swore I would never be like Dad. I know I’ve fought men before … loads of times…’

  ‘Which needs to stop.’

  He moved his head in agreement. ‘But I didn’t think I would ever hit a woman, any woman, but especially the woman I love.’ He choked on the words. ‘Not after I saw how it made Mam. I’m ashamed, Jean.’

  He looked it, she conceded. ‘And you know the last thing I’m going to say, don’t you?’

  ‘No more playing around.’

  ‘Or I’ll go, and I’ll take Jacqueline with me. I won’t be humiliated again. I wouldn’t do it to you.’ She saw his face darken. The thought had never occurred to him, obviously. ‘And don’t think I haven’t had the opportunity.’ Did the butcher’s boy flirting count? She hid her smile. No harm in giving him something to ponder on. ‘But I wouldn’t do it,’ she emphasised.

  ‘And neither will I from now on.’ He looked at her. ‘I’ve been stupid, chancing throwing away everything we’ve got.’

  That was enough for now. ‘Fresh start?’

  He smiled tentatively at her. ‘Fresh start.’

  She heard her mother’s key in the front door.

  Holding out her hands, she gestured towards the baby. ‘Now, give Jack to me.’

  Chapter 87

  Mary put both hands flat on the mattress and hoisted herself higher, the wire springs of the bedframe moving with the old familiar twang. The sheet under her was hot and she felt sweaty and clammy; her nightie stuck to her buttocks and the back of her legs.

  ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Only five o’clock. I was looking to see if you were settled. I am sorry to wake you.’ Peter’s voice was cautious.

  She hadn’t slept well. She’d lain awake staring into the darkness, trying to work out what she was feeling. She knew she still loved Peter, it was obvious he loved her, but there was a distance between them that seemed intractable. She knew it was one she had created, but there’d been a reason for that: he’d lied to her and she wasn’t sure she would ever forgive him. And if she was unable to do that, how could she share the rest of her life with him?

  But then there was the baby. Although she had been prepared to, when she was angry with Peter, she knew now it was unfair to keep the baby from him. She’d no right. From the moment she’d looked into his eyes as he sat at her bedside almost a week ago, she’d known the agony he was going through; the fear of losing the life he’d hoped to build with her. But still, even though she was terrified that something awful had happened to Linda and she’d needed his comfort, still she’d rejected him.

  She noticed now that he was looking at her, his head tilted to one side as though he’d asked her a question and was waiting for an answer. When she didn’t speak he moved away from her.

  ‘You didn’t wake me,’ she said eventually. ‘Where is everyone?’

  ‘Ellen could not sleep. Ted took her back to the hospital to be with Linda.’

  ‘They must be exhausted.’

  ‘They know it is for the best that the hospital keeps Linda there. They need to be sure she is totally well. It has only been four days. She has had a dreadful experience.’

  She watched him moving about the room, hanging her dressing gown on the nail at the back of the door, straightening the mirror on top of the tallboy, running his hands up and down the blue curtains as he pulled them back. He stood, peering through the folds of the patterned net curtain at the street below. The heat from the early morning sun already shimmered on the glass. A bluebottle buzzed, whirling around on its back on the windowsill. Peter scooped it into his hand, lifted the sash and tipped it out. Rubbing his palm on his trousers he came to the end of the bed and said, ‘When you were sleeping Ted telephoned to see if you are all right and to say that Linda is fine. They will be home later.’

  ‘Will they be able to bring her home today?’

  ‘He said another one or two days – to make sure.’

  ‘Right.’ Mary pulled at the pillows behind her, trying to give her back some support.

  ‘May I help?’ Peter moved forward.

  ‘No, thanks, I’m fine.’ She settled back. ‘Where’s everybody else?’

  ‘Patrick has just left for the market in Bradlow,’ Peter said. ‘He said he must go to see if “those bloody women have … er … fleeced him”? I think that is what he said.’

  ‘Stolen money from him,’ Mary said. ‘Yes, he would say that. Typical Patrick.’

  It made a lighter moment between them; they exchanged smiles.

  ‘He and Jean seem to be making the best of things, don’t you think?’ Is that what we’re trying to do right now, Mary thought, make the best of things?

  ‘Yes, I think you are right. I think all will be well there.’ His eyes lit up. ‘She is also being nice to me.’ His grin was infectious.

&nbs
p; ‘Well, make the most of it. It won’t last.’ Mary gave a small laugh. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘She is still at her mother’s house with Jacqueline and William. She thinks it will be for the best at the moment. Give you a chance to rest.’

  A slight frown creased Mary’s forehead. ‘What about Jack?’

  ‘Oh, Jack is with her also.’

  ‘My goodness, I wonder how Elsie Winterbottom’s taking to that.’ Not too well, if she knew anything about that woman. Jean must have well and truly put her foot down. ‘I’ve been really worried about Jean, but it seems she’ll be okay with that little boy.’

  ‘Children only need to be loved,’ Peter said simply. ‘I think Jean is learning to do that.’ He hesitated. ‘I did not mean to … but I heard her say to your brother that she would take care of Jack, but only if Patrick promised to change his ways. He said that he would promise if she could forgive him.’

  ‘I hope it works out for them, Peter, I really do. Jean has had a lot to put up with. I hope she can forgive him but it might not be that easy.’

  They exchanged glances.

  If Peter asked for her forgiveness now she didn’t know if she could reject him again.

  He didn’t. He left the room in silence.

  She couldn’t let him go. ‘Peter,’ she whispered.

  He must have been standing just outside the door because he appeared immediately. ‘Liebling?’

  ‘I love you,’ Mary said simply. ‘I love you.’

  He stood for a second, shock etched on his face. Then he crossed the room in slow steps and knelt by her bedside. ‘Ich liebe dich auch Schatz. I always will.’ Slow tears rose and fell. Peter brushed them away with his arm.

  ‘Don’t, love,’ Mary said, ‘don’t cry. It will be okay.’ He lay face to face with her on her pillow. She closed her eyes, listening to his breathing. It matched her own, almost as if he’d done it on purpose, as though they were breathing as one.