The Ragamuffins

by Anna King

  A sudden noise from the landing snapped him out of his reverie.

  Briskly now, he took one last look in the mirror. Then, shutting the door behind him, he left the seedy building, his steps taking him back to the building he had visited last night, and was rewarded by the sight of Molly leaving the tenement building in the company of two young boys whose ages he judged to be between ten and twelve respectively. Five minutes later a plain, smartly dressed woman wearing a black skirt and a white silk blouse appeared at the door of one of the first-floor flats, looking the image of respectability. The sight of her threw him, for she bore no resemblance to the painted whore he had followed the previous evening – until she opened her mouth. From his position he heard her say clearly in a strong, common voice, ‘Righto, Lil, wish me luck, mate. I ain’t looking forward ter it, but now I know where ter look, I gotta try an’ find Molly’s brother. I think I’ll try the bakery first, an’ if I don’t get no luck there, I’ll ask after this bloke Ted Parker. ’Cos if young Micky was working fer ’im two weeks ago, he likely still is. Mind you, don’t say anything to Moll about where I’ve gone. I don’t wanna get ’er ’opes up, poor little love. Anyway, see yer, Lil.’

  A slovenly, heavily pregnant woman came out into the street, her arm going round her friend’s shoulders in a gesture of comfort.

  ‘Don’t worry, Sadie, love. Look on the bright side. If yer find the brother, yer might end up with two kids ter look after, just like a ready-made family. An’ the best bit is, yer won’t ’ave a bleeding ’usband getting under yer feet.’

  From his vantage point, Wells saw a dispirited look pass over the prostitute’s face.

  ‘Thanks, Lil, but I don’t think there’s much chance of that, do you?’

  Giving her friend another awkward pat on the back the pregnant woman re-entered her flat. Unaware she was being watched, Sadie’s shoulders slumped for a brief moment, then, with a look of determination etched on her freshly washed face, she began to walk towards him. Quickly darting out of sight, he waited until she had disappeared before approaching the flat she had just left, unaware that he too was being closely scrutinised.

  Agnes hadn’t taken her sharp eyes off the hateful figure since she had followed him out of the pub. She too had overheard the exchange between the two women, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. Somehow, Kenneth had found out who had Molly, and where. Now she knew too. But what to do with the knowledge? Clutching her shawl tighter around her head she saw Kenneth knock at the ground-floor flat, and within a few minutes he had disappeared inside. Her eyes darting frantically up and down the street she looked in vain for a copper. Most days you couldn’t walk more than a few feet without practically falling over one of them. Of course, when you really wanted one, there were none to be seen.

  Unlike Wells, she hadn’t seen Molly run off to play with the two boys. As far as she knew, the girl was inside the flat. Knowing how plausible Kenneth could be, Agnes had no doubt he would at this moment be spinning the same tale he had spun to her. She only hoped the woman who had been left in charge of Micky’s sister wouldn’t be as gullible as she had been. And if he couldn’t persuade the woman to hand over the child to him, her supposed uncle, Agnes had no doubt he would take her by force. What was she to do? She was no match for a grown man if it came to a struggle. But if she left to find a copper, he could be long gone by the time she found one. Of course she could always scream for help. There must be plenty of people at home at this time of day. She nodded, her mind made up. That’s what she’d do. If he came out of that flat with the little girl, she’d scream at the top of her lungs. Her plan of action settled, she leant back out of sight against the brick wall and waited.

  Inside the flat, a none too clean mug of tea held in his hand, Kenneth Wells, disguising his distaste at his surroundings, turned on the charm he had perfected over the years and smiled at the straight-faced woman.

  ‘So, Lil… If I may call you Lil?’

  Lily nodded wordlessly, a clear look of distrust on her face. Kenneth saw the look and cursed silently.

  The only reason he hadn’t gone to Sadie North was because he had deemed her too worldly-wise to be easily taken in. Also it was obvious she had become fond of his Molly. Why else would she have taken her in and cared for her these past two weeks? Now it was becoming alarmingly clear that this woman, Lily Knight, wasn’t going to be a pushover either. Keeping a tight rein on his temper, he put down the mug onto an equally grimy, sticky table, and curved his lips into what he assumed was a disarming smile.

  ‘I don’t blame you for being suspicious. Indeed, it does you credit that you should take your duties in looking after my niece so diligently, but you must try and see it from my point of view. I’ve been going out of my mind with worry, thinking the worst. It was bad enough when I knew Molly was being looked after by that young tearaway Micky – he’s a bad lot, that one. I was never very close to my brother, I will admit, that’s why I was unaware of my brother and sister-in-law’s deaths. The authorities traced me eventually, but by the time I arrived at the workhouse, that scallywag Micky had already made his escape, taking Molly with him. It would have been far better if he had left her behind, but he was always a selfish boy. Anyway, what’s done is done. Micky can look after himself, but I would be failing in my duties as Molly’s legal guardian if I left her with a known prostitute…’ Too late he realised he had said the wrong thing.

  Her face cold Lily waddled over to the door and flung it wide. ‘Yer must think I was born yesterday. People like you, with yer smart clothes an’ fancy talk think us cockneys are all thick – well, we ain’t. We might not be able ter talk posh, but we can smell a rat when we see one, an’ you, mister, stink like a rotting corpse. D’yer really think I’d fall for that load of old cobblers? If yer was really Molly’s uncle, yer’d ’ave brought the law with yer, or somebody from the authorities. Nah! I know who you are. You’re the nasty man Molly told Sadie about. Scum, that’s what men like you are, scum. An’ yer’ve got the nerve ter look down on decent people just ’cos we’re poor. Now! Get outta my ’ouse. And ’ere’s something ter think on. I know what yer look like now, an’ the minute Sadie gets back, we’ll be straight down the cop shop. Now, piss off, yer disgusting bleeder. Go on, get outta my ’ouse.’

  Still believing people like Lily Knight could be bought off if offered the right price Kenneth pulled out his wallet and threw down two white five-pound notes. Lily merely glanced at the two pieces of crisp paper. She had never seen so much money in her entire life, and probably never would again, but she’d rather cut off her arm than sink to the level of selling a child, any child. Her voice dripping with scorn she spat out, ‘Go on, get yer stinking carcass outta my ’ouse, an’ yer can take yer blood money with yer, yer smarmy bastard.’

  The velvety veneer slipped from his face like paint stripped from a wall with a blow-torch. His upper lip curling in anger he snarled, ‘Don’t go getting on your high horse with me, you fat slag. Do you imagine I don’t know what you’re after? Here! There’s another five pounds. That’s what you’re really after, aren’t you? More money. You’re all the same, people like you. You’d sell your own mother if the price was high enough. So don’t go pretending moral indignation on me, because it won’t wash. Go on, take it,’ he pointed scornfully to the small pile of money. ‘You can split it with your friend when she gets back. Because let’s face it, that’s more than a pair of old slappers like you will ever earn in your line of work…’

  The look on Wells’ face turned to fear as, with a cry of pure rage, the woman grabbed a carving knife from the table and, holding it in front of her bulging stomach, she rushed at him, raising the wicked-looking blade so that it was only inches from his face. Instinctively he grabbed hold of her wrist, but not before the knife slashed across the back of his right hand. He had imagined it would be an easy task to disarm her, but he hadn’t bargained for the tenacity of the East End women, especially when those women were
mothers. And like all mothers, Lily fought her assailant with every bit of strength she possessed to protect the innocent child he had come for. But for all her fury, she was still a woman, and a heavily pregnant one at that. Yet still she would not relinquish the knife, her only form of defence. Gasping and sweating, Kenneth lifted his arm high, bringing it down viciously across Lily’s perspiring face. Lily had often been hit by her husband, especially when he’d come home drunk, so she was accustomed to being used as a punch bag. In normal circumstances she would have weathered the blow, but, with her bulging stomach weighing her down, she was caught off balance and fell to the floor with a sickening thud.

  His breathing still rapid, Kenneth tried to calm himself down and concoct another plan, for after today he would never get another chance to get his hands on Molly. Edging cautiously towards the still form, Kenneth, bracing himself for another attack, carefully turned the woman over, then reeled back in shock. For there, almost hidden by her huge belly, the carving knife she had tried to use on him was now embedded between her ponderous breasts. The sweat was pouring off him now. Then he heard the sound of laughing children approaching and with a swiftness of thought that surprised even himself, he practically threw himself across the room and behind the open door.

  Billy Knight was the first to enter the room, as always a grievance on his lips about something his brother had done to upset him, only to come to an abrupt stop at the sight of his mother lying motionless on the floor, covered in blood, the wooden handle of the kitchen knife protruding from her chest. It was a sight that rendered him speechless with shock. Then he was being shoved out of the way by his older brother Charlie.

  ‘Mum… Mum, Billy’s nicked me conkers… Mum… Mum…!’ The two boys were framed in the doorway, their eyes wide with horror and disbelief.

  Blissfully unaware of the horrific scene, her view hidden by the two boys, Molly playfully pushed Charlie, laughing, ‘Get outta the way, Charlie. I need ter go to the lav.’ Using her elbows she tried to push the solid form out of her path, but he remained as if turned to stone. ‘’Ere, what’s up? What’s ’appened, Charlie? Where’s yer mum?’

  Suddenly stung into life, both boys rushed towards their silent mother crying piteously, ‘Get up, Mum… Please, Mum, get up…’

  It was only then that Molly saw Lily and like the boys she was momentarily struck dumb with shock. Then she opened her mouth wide and let out a bloodcurdling scream of pure terror. The sound seemed to galvanise the boys into action. Charlie, older than his brother by a mere ten months, took charge.

  ‘You, Billy, run for ’elp, quick.’ When his brother stayed huddled over his mother, Charlie grabbed him roughly by the back of the neck shouting, ‘Hurry, Billy. Yer gotta get a doctor. Go on, run, Billy, run…’ His voice broke, and shoving his brother out into the street he turned to Molly who was still screaming. ‘Shut up… shut up.’ The harsh words were a brave attempt to adopt an adult demeanour. ‘Look, get some sheets… or towels… Anything. We’ve gotta try an’ stop the bleeding… We’ve gotta do something…’ But for all his bravado, he was still only a child, a child terrified of losing his mum. His voice breaking on a sob, his eyes bright with tears, he looked for help to Molly. But Molly, although now silent, remained rooted to the spot. By now people were pouring out into the street to see what all the noise was about.

  Still in his hiding place, Kenneth cursed his bad luck. Within seconds the place would be crawling with people, and if that fat cow was dead, then he’d hang. But he wasn’t just going to stay hidden behind the door, for once that crowd entered the flat he’d be discovered in seconds. Slamming the door shut he sprang forward at the unsuspecting Charlie, and with a clenched fist hit him hard around the head, the blow sending the boy falling across his mother’s bleeding body. Then he turned to the petrified Molly. Picking her up with his good arm, he covered her mouth with the hand Lily had stuck the knife into, adding to Molly’s terror as she tasted his blood on her lips.

  The sound of voices was growing louder and nearer. Like a trapped rat he looked wildly around the tiny room to a narrow hallway. With his prize firmly held in a vice-like grip, he bounded out of the room, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the open window leading out to the back yard. He had just climbed through the narrow window when a small group of people burst into the room behind him. Dropping onto the uneven slabs beneath the window, Kenneth ran as if the devil himself was on his tail, the limp body of Molly, who had fainted, slung over his shoulders. Keeping to the back streets he managed to avoid being seen. Only when he was sure he was safe did he stop to staunch the wound in his hand with a linen handkerchief which he always wore in his breast pocket, before moving Molly’s position from over his shoulder and into his arms, looking for all the world like a doting father carrying his sleeping child home.

  Hailing a hackney cab, he clambered in, giving the cabbie an address in Essex. A satisfied smile of relief on his lips, he sat back on the leather seat, his eyes devouring the still form of the young girl. It had been the devil of a job to get her, but get her he had – and she was going to pay for all the trouble she had caused him.

  * * *

  When Molly screamed Agnes had jumped with fright, not having heard them come back. Then all hell seemed to break loose as a boy raced sobbing from the flat calling for help. Inching forward Agnes approached the open doorway, but before she could look inside the door slammed in her face. Running to the side window she witnessed Kenneth’s assault on the boy, and him grabbing who she could only assume was the elusive Molly. Pushing open the door she too stopped in her tracks at the sight that met her eyes. Then she heard running footsteps and, following the sound, saw Kenneth make his escape with the girl through a window at the back of the flat. Although not as agile as she once was she managed to scramble out of the window and, careful to keep at a safe distance she followed the retreating figure, while at the same time keeping a look-out for the law, or even a couple of strong men who would be able to stop Wells making off with the unconscious girl. But luck wasn’t with her today. Nor for the bloodied woman left for dead, or maybe already dead, and the boy, also lying unconscious over his mother’s body as if trying to protect her from further harm. The only way she could help the little girl was to find out where Kenneth was taking her. And as soon as she knew, she’d go straight to the law.

  Then they were out of the back alleys and into the high street. And there was that pervert, looking to all intents and purposes like a loving father holding his child close to his chest. She saw him hail the cab and looked desperately around her for some kind of assistance. At this time of day, the high street was fairly busy, but before she could enlist any help, the cab was driving away, leaving Agnes crying in frustration. She couldn’t believe he had got away with the child so easily, not in broad daylight. But as her mother used to say, ‘the devil looks after his own’, and if ever there was a personification of evil, it was Kenneth Wells and all men of his ilk.

  Then she had the first piece of luck she’d had for weeks. For as the cab drove past her she heard Kenneth’s voice through the open window, giving the cabbie the address he wanted taking to.

  Repeating the address over and over in her mind, fearful of forgetting it, Agnes saw two policemen strolling down the high street.

  She was only a few feet away from the uniformed men when she stopped suddenly, an idea forming in her mind.

  She knew where to find Kenneth now. What if she went to the address she had now committed to memory, and rescued the child by herself? After all, she would have the advantage of surprise on her side, for Kenneth had no idea that anyone knew where to find him. And what if she was able to get the child away and back to safety? For not only would she be saving the girl from a known pervert’s clutches, but she too would be able to return to her own home without fear. She had passed the two officers, her mind jumping forward, the unplanned thoughts gathering momentum by the second. Returning to the cheap boarding house, she quickly took some mone
y from a box hidden under a loose floorboard, and hurried back out onto the streets. Within minutes she was settled in the back of a cab, an experience new to her, but for once she wasn’t concerned how much money the journey was going to cost her. By the time she had asked directions and waited around for trams it might take hours to get to the destination she was heading for, and time was of the essence.

  Aware she was trembling, Agnes slowed her breathing and tried to relax, knowing however that she would never have any peace of mind until the child was safe. It was all up to her now – the way it should be, for it was because of her the child was in danger. Clenching her hands together to stop them shaking Agnes was suddenly thankful her journey was going to be a relatively long one. It would give her time to think.

  * * *

  Ted and Sadie heard the commotion before they had even turned the corner that led into the block of flats. Exchanging fearful glances they both quickened their step. At first they couldn’t see anything for the crowds of people milling around the courtyard, then, one of Sadie’s neighbours caught sight of her and hurried forward.