A Mother’s Sacrifice

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A Mother’s Sacrifice Page 8

by Kitty Neale


  These were the words that Billy wanted to hear. Harry had threatened him, which left him with no choice but to tell the man what he wanted to know. ‘He’ll be at work. He’s a porter at the Free Hospital.’

  Harry spun on his heel and with head and shoulders bent against the beating rain steamed off down the street towards the hospital.

  Billy smiled with satisfaction. After what Frank had coming, he doubted his brother would be seeing Glenda Jenkins ever again.

  Chapter 7

  Harry’s mind was racing as he approached the hospital. All sorts of sordid images flashed through his mind of his wife with Frank Myers. The dirty tart had left her knickers behind! Had they only been at it in Frank’s house or were they together in his bed?

  It all makes sense now, he thought, remembering how Glenda had acted so nervously when he had collected her from the hospital. Frank Myers must be the bloke who had been hanging around when he went to pick Glenda up, and yes, come to think of it, he remembered her calling him Frank. He scowled. This meant she’d seen him at least once since then, and maybe even before.

  His jaw clenched as he thought about his wife. The bitch. He’d fucking kill her! And of all the people to find out from, it had to be that tosser Billy Myers! He was sure that Billy had enjoyed telling him. Well, he hadn’t heard the last of this yet. He’d kick Billy’s fucking head in too once he’d finished with his brother.

  Harry yanked hard at the wooden entrance door and walked in, shaking the rain from his dripping black hair. He looked up the corridors, left and right, wondering where he would find the man who had been screwing his wife behind his back. A nurse walked towards him and somehow Harry managed to plaster a big fake smile on his face. If he wanted to find Frank, he knew he would have to turn on the charm.

  ‘Excuse me, Miss, but would you be so kind as to tell me where I might find Frank Myers? He’s a porter here, a good mate of mine.’

  The nurse thought for a moment then replied, ‘Frank’s gone home for the day, I believe. I’m quite sure I saw him leaving about an hour ago. He must have been on an early shift.’

  Without bothering to thank the nurse, Harry rushed back out of the door, then stopped in his tracks halfway down the path. He suddenly realised he had no idea where Frank lived, so he began to retrace the route he had just taken and headed back to the pub to find Billy.

  Helen was so grateful to Glenda for ‘babysitting’ her parents. It was always a worry to her when she popped to the shops, never quite sure what she would come home to. The larder at home was looking like Mother Hubbard’s so Helen had jumped at the offer when Glenda said she would stay there for a while so that Helen could go shopping. She didn’t plan on being out for long, especially in this horrendous rain.

  Glenda had called around that morning, eager to tell her all about the wonderful hours she had spent with Frank the previous day. It was so lovely to see her best friend happy again, and though Helen was worried about the consequences of Harry finding out, she felt confident that Glenda wouldn’t do anything silly to give the game away. Frank sounds like such a nice man, thought Helen, as she recalled the tales Glenda had told her. Who would have thought that anyone related to Billy Myers would be nice!

  Helen was soon outside the greengrocer’s but hesitated to go in, knowing that Betty Howard would be ready to pounce, keen to get any gossip she could. Prepare yourself, she thought, and just at that moment she heard a man’s voice shouting her name.

  Helen turned to look and was taken aback to see Harry storming towards her. Her heart rate quickened and her mouth went dry. She could see from the look on his face that he wasn’t happy.

  ‘Have you seen Glenda lately?’ Harry barked.

  ‘Er, no, I haven’t,’ Helen lied. She was panicking inside, thinking it was strange for Harry to stop to talk to her. Normally, if she saw him in the street, he would just about manage to acknowledge her with a bit of a grunt.

  ‘I bet you’re fucking lying. All of you, you’re all as bad as each other! Glenda’s a lying bitch and a two-timing slag. I ain’t no fool!’ he yelled. ‘I know what she’s been up to and she’s gonna fucking well regret it! And so will that Frank Myers when I get my hands on him. You will too if I find out you knew anything about it.’

  Betty Howard was standing in the shop doorway with wide eyes, listening to the threatening exchange. Helen wanted to run and hide behind Betty, but somehow she gathered the strength to stand there and answer Harry back. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, and quite frankly I don’t want to know. This has nothing do with me, so please don’t try to involve me in anything to do with your marriage,’ she said, pretending to be affronted. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me …’

  Helen walked around Harry in the most dignified manner she could muster and headed back towards home. Her chest was hammering and tears welled up in her eyes. She could hear Harry shouting from behind her, his words terrifying her.

  ‘I’m telling you, Helen, I’ll find the pair of them, and I’ll knock down every fucking door in Battersea until I do. If you see her, tell her I’m coming for her and don’t think she can hide out at Ted’s house either!’

  A feeling of foreboding came over her. Obviously Harry had somehow found out about Glenda and Frank.

  After a few minutes, Helen looked back over her shoulder to see that Harry was nowhere in sight. With the view clear, she ran as fast as her chubby little legs would carry her, adrenalin speeding her along. Breathless and close to vomiting, she fumbled with the key in the door, desperate to warn her friend about Harry’s discovery.

  ‘GLENDA, GLENDA!’ Helen ran through to the kitchen to find Glenda gently rocking Johnnie on her lap. ‘I’ve just seen Harry and he’s on the warpath. He knows about you and Frank!’

  Glenda turned as white as a sheet and her bottom lip started to quiver as she placed Johnnie back in his pram. ‘How does he know? Oh, God, he’s gonna kill us! What can I do? Helen, I … I …’

  ‘You’ve got to get away. It’s the only thing you can do. Harry’s out for blood, Glenda.’

  ‘Oh, God, Frank! I’ve got to warn him. I’ve got to get to him before Harry does! Where was Harry going when you saw him?’ Glenda was shaking and pulling at her hair.

  ‘I don’t know, but how are you going to warn Frank? Do you know where he lives? And even if you do, it ain’t safe for you, Glenda. Think about it. What if you find out Frank’s address and go there, only for Harry to turn up too? It’ll make things worse.’

  ‘It can’t get any worse than this,’ wailed Glenda, ‘and I have to let Frank know. I love him, Hel, and I can’t let Harry hurt him. I know he lives in one of those prefabs down Sheepcote Lane so I’ll take my chances and make a dash for it.’

  ‘I still think it’s too dangerous, but if you insist on going I think you should leave Johnnie here. You’ll be faster without him, and just in case you do see Harry and he kicks off, it’ll be better if Johnnie’s safely here with me.’

  Glenda looked thoughtfully at the pram for a moment. ‘Yes, you’re right. Thanks, Helen. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  ‘Just keep safe and be careful, and watch out for him when you come back here. He thinks you might try and hide from him at your mum and dad’s,’ said Helen as she anxiously ushered her friend out of the door.

  The wind was behind Glenda as she raced through the streets of Battersea, thankful that she knew the short cuts and back alleys. It was a fair jaunt to Sheepcote Lane but the terror of Harry getting to Frank before she did kept her going fast.

  The prefabricated single-storey homes were packed in quite tightly in the lane and Glenda had no idea which one Frank lived in. Most windows and doors were firmly closed to keep out the bad weather but there was nothing Glenda could do other than shout out Frank’s name in the hope that someone would hear her and direct her to where she could find him. She was taking a big risk as Harry could walk around the corner at any second and hear her shouting, but in her desperation she wasn�
�t thinking clearly.

  ‘FRANK … FRANK MYERS …’ Glenda had stopped running and was walking at a fast pace with her hands to her mouth like a loudspeaker, repeatedly calling his name.

  A stout old woman in a grubby white apron opened her front door and poured out a tin bucket of dirty water next to her step.

  ‘Can you tell me where Frank Myers lives, please?’ Glenda asked.

  ‘I can, love, it’s the second one in on the right, over there, see …’

  Glenda thanked the old woman and dashed off. She furiously rapped on the front door, still shouting out Frank’s name. Nearby curtains were twitching and a few nosy neighbours had appeared on their steps to see what all the commotion was.

  The front door of the house opened and a concerned-looking Frank stood there.

  ‘Frank, thank goodness I’ve found you. You’ve gotta get out of here, now, quick. He’s coming. He knows about us.’

  ‘Whoa, girl, slow down. What’s happened?’

  Glenda didn’t think there was enough time to explain; she just wanted Frank to get to somewhere safe, any place where her husband couldn’t find him. ‘It’s Harry, he knows about us,’ she repeated, ‘and he’s looking for you. It won’t take him –’

  Glenda was interrupted by Joyce, who suddenly appeared in the doorway and pushed Frank to one side. ‘What’s going on? What’s all this noise about and who the hell are you?’ she asked as she eyed Glenda up and down.

  ‘It’s all right, Mum. Leave it, will you? Go back inside,’ said Frank, trying to push back past his mother.

  ‘I’ll do no such thing, and I’ll thank you not to give me orders in my own home. Now, tell me what’s going on!’ Joyce demanded, hands on hips, and judging by the look on her face Glenda reckoned Frank had better do some explaining – and fast.

  ‘Just tell her, Frank,’ Glenda pleaded, nervously looking over her shoulder, ‘and quickly. We haven’t got much time!’

  ‘Come on, get inside. You too, Mother,’ Frank said as he looked up the lane.

  Glenda glanced around the kitchen, but hardly took anything in. All she could think of was what would happen when Harry came knocking on the door. ‘Mrs Myers, I’m so sorry, but I’ve become friends with Frank and my husband has found out about it. He’s none too happy about it and he’s on the rampage. If he finds Frank I dread to think what he’ll do to him. He’s out looking for him now and it won’t take him long to find out where you live. We’ve got to get out of here. Once he’s finished with Frank, it’ll be me next.’

  Joyce’s eyes widened with horror. ‘What did I tell you, eh? I knew this would happen,’ she said, shaking her finger at Frank.

  ‘I know that, Mum,’ said Frank as he put his arms around Glenda, who almost collapsed into them, ‘but we’ve got to do something. We can’t just sit here and wait for him to come knocking.’

  ‘Please, Frank, please, you’ve got to get out of here,’ Glenda pleaded.

  ‘No, I’m not leaving you to face this alone. We know what Harry is capable of and he’s already put you in hospital. ’

  ‘Frank, please, he … he’ll kill you. You’ve got to make a run for it.’

  ‘It’s nice to see that your main concern is for my son,’ Joyce said, her tone softer, ‘and it seems to me that there’s only one thing for it. You’ll both have to disappear down to my sister’s place in Margate. Your aunty Anne will put you both up, Frank, and Harry won’t find you there.’

  ‘But what about you, Mum?’

  ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll pretend I know nothing about the pair of you seeing each other, and if he dares raise a hand to me I’ll threaten him with the police.’

  ‘I still don’t like the idea of leaving you,’ Frank said worriedly.

  ‘Look, I’ll be fine, and as it sounds like there isn’t much time to spare, I think you should go now. Go on, get a move on!’

  ‘Thanks, Mrs Myers,’ Glenda said gratefully.

  ‘We’ll have to go to Clapham Junction to catch a train, but I don’t get paid until tomorrow, I’m almost skint.’

  ‘I – I’ve only got about a shilling,’ Glenda said, feeling as though they’d lost any chance of escape.

  Joyce reached for an old biscuit tin on top of her kitchen unit. ‘Here you go,’ she said, tipping out a pile of coins. ‘It’s my savings, a bit of money I’ve been putting away for my house. There’s a good few bob there.’

  ‘No, Mum, I can’t take it.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. It’s only a loan and you can pay me back when this all blows over. When Harry turns up I’ll do my best to put him off your scent, but please, now just go!’

  ‘I’ve got to fetch Johnnie before we go to the station! He’s at my friend Helen’s house.’

  ‘From what you’ve said, I don’t think we can risk going to get him. What if we run into Harry?’

  ‘But Frank, I can’t leave him!’

  ‘It won’t be for ever, just for now. Once we know it’s safe, we can come back for him.’

  ‘Frank’s right,’ Joyce added. ‘You can’t take a baby on the run with you.’

  Glenda couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her son behind. It was her job to protect him, and though she knew that Harry would never hurt Johnnie, she didn’t believe anyone would be capable of looking after him and loving him as she did. Tears filled her eyes. She knew that Frank and his mother were right; that until she could provide a home for Johnnie she would have to go without him, but she felt as though her heart was breaking. She hated Harry for forcing her to leave her child – and not only that, she wouldn’t be able to see her parents either. She was sobbing now, barely aware of Frank saying goodbye to his mother before he took her arm to lead her outside.

  Hoping to avoid Harry, they took the back streets to the station, Glenda still in a daze of pain and anguish at the thought of leaving her son. She couldn’t speak, didn’t want to speak, time passing in a haze until they were on a train, heading out of the station.

  She howled then, while Frank held her close, but she found no comfort in his arms. She couldn’t be happy without her baby.

  Harry tried the pub near the building site, but Billy had left. With a good idea of where he might be, Harry next pushed open the door of the Castle and was unsurprised to see Billy Myers leaning up against the bar having a laugh and a joke with the landlord. Billy’s face changed when he set eyes on Harry, his smile quickly fading as he nervously said, ‘Harry, hello, mate. Did you find my brother?’

  The slimy bastard, thought Harry. ‘No, he’d finished work by the time I got there, so you’d better tell me where you live.’

  ‘But you can’t go round my house, Harry. You’ll upset my mum.’

  ‘I couldn’t give a flying fuck about your mum. Just tell me where you live, Billy … or else,’ Harry said, not sure if he could hold back much longer from smashing Billy’s face.

  ‘Tell you what, Harry. I’ll come with you to show you the way,’ offered Billy.

  ‘Nah, just tell me, Billy, or I swear I’ll rip your fucking head off!’

  That was all it took for Harry to find out Billy’s address, and as he walked out of the pub he sneered, thinking what a little squirt of a coward the man was. He relished the thought of giving him a good pasting too … and soon. His pace quickened and his jaw was tight with anger as he reached Sheepcote Lane. Fists clenched, he hammered on the front door, and shortly after it opened. ‘You must be Mrs Myers,’ he snapped.

  ‘Yes, that’s right, and I don’t take kindly to anyone pounding on my door. Who are you? And what do you want?’

  ‘I want a word with your son Frank, and now!’

  ‘He ain’t here and I’ll ask you again, who are you?’

  ‘I’ll tell you who I am. I’m the husband of the woman your son has been seeing behind my back. Get him out here now, or do I have to come in there and drag him out myself?’

  ‘How bloody dare you come round here throwing your weight about! My son wouldn’t get involved w
ith a married woman, never in a month of Sundays. You wanna get your facts straight before you go threatening me. And anyway, I told you, he isn’t here! Feel free to come inside and take a look if you don’t believe me, but you’ll be wasting your time. Frank’s gone off; said he wants to do a bit of travelling and I don’t know when he’ll be back.’

  Harry wasn’t stupid. He knew the woman was spinning him a yarn, no doubt trying to protect her precious son. He barged past her and checked every room, scowling with disappointment not to find the man he wanted to turn into pulp. ‘He can’t have got far,’ he spat in Joyce Myers’s face. ‘I’ll find him, and when I do he’ll be coming home in a box!’

  ‘Get out! Get out of my house!’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m going,’ Harry snapped, and, as he stormed out, his thoughts suddenly turned to Glenda. He wanted to get home now to make sure that she hadn’t been stupid enough to run off with Frank Myers. Fury consumed him. If she had, he’d catch up with her. No woman was going to make a monkey out of him and he’d make sure Glenda suffered – suffered badly before he killed her too.

  It was gone six in the evening and the sun had set when Maude heard someone thumping on her brass door knocker. When she went to answer the door, Maude was astonished to find Helen standing on her step with Johnnie in his pram.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Jenkins. Sorry to bother you, but I didn’t know what else to do,’ Helen said through snotty tears.

  ‘That’s all right, love. Come inside in the warm. Now, stop your bawling and explain to me why you’re here with Johnnie.’

  Bob sat bolt upright in his armchair and folded away his newspaper, looking just as surprised as Maude to find Helen in his front room with baby Johnnie.

  ‘Evening, Mr Jenkins,’ Helen managed to gasp as she wiped her nose. ‘I – I’m sorry about this.’

 

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