A Mother’s Sacrifice

by Kitty Neale

  With her lungs bursting for air Polly surged up, drawing her knees to her chest. She longed for her parents, longed to be held in their arms. Life had once been good to her; she’d had a blessed childhood, protected from the evils of the world, but the last few months had been a whirlwind of pain. She’d had to grow up fast, and had found a measure of happiness when Jackie had taken her in, but now everything was shattered again.

  Polly hugged her knees tightly and at last gave in to the tears that came from deep inside, releasing the shock, anger and agony of the night’s events. Oh, Katy, she sobbed as guilt overwhelmed her. If she hadn’t drunk so much and gone outside to be sick, Katy wouldn’t have come looking for her. It was her fault that Katy had been arrested, and Ross was right, she had caused this family nothing but trouble. She was the one who deserved to be locked up, not Katy.

  There was a knock on the bathroom door and through her tears Polly saw Jackie coming in, a cup of tea in her hand. She placed it top of the laundry bin and then sat down on the edge of the bath, saying soothingly, ‘That’s it, have a good cry, but I hope you’re crying for the right reasons. I won’t have any tears over Katy, she did the right thing. If it had been me who had found you in that situation, I swear I would have done exactly the same.’

  ‘I’m so stupid,’ Polly sobbed. ‘It’s because of me that Katy is in trouble.’

  ‘Of course it isn’t and you’re not stupid, just young, and a little naïve. Neither of you should have been drinking, especially spirits, but that doesn’t mean that either of you deserved this.’

  ‘I–I thought you’d blame me.’

  ‘No, Polly. All the guilt lies with that Alan Purvis and I hope to God that he rots in hell!’ Jackie insisted as she reached for the sponge to soap it and softly wash Polly’s grazed and bruised back. ‘Don’t let them win. Don’t let what they did to you ruin the rest of your life. You will get over this. You’re a strong young woman, stronger than you think. Just look how you’ve come to terms with losing your parents and being so badly injured yourself. If you can get through that, then you can overcome anything that life throws at you, and we will have Katy home soon.’

  As Jackie continued to gently wash her, Polly found that some of her words sank in and at last her tears subsided. ‘I never thought of myself as strong but you’re right, I won’t let those sickos bring me down. They may have taken my virginity, but that’s all they’ll take.’

  ‘Good girl,’ Jackie said. ‘Now, I’ll leave you to wash all that mud out of your hair.’

  Polly watched her leave, and then quickly washed her hair before climbing out of the bath. She dried herself and then put on her pyjamas before going back downstairs. Though Jackie offered her food, she didn’t feel like eating, and soon, mentally and physically exhausted, she said she was going to bed.

  ‘Yes, do that, love, and try to stop worrying. As I said before, Katy will be home soon,’ Jackie reassured her.

  It had been a long night and as Polly rested her weary head on her pillow, she imagined what Katy would say right now if she were there. It would probably be something from their favourite film, Gone with the Wind. Yes, she decided, that’s exactly what Katy would say and so that’s what she herself would do, stop worrying about things for now and sleep. I’ll think about that tomorrow, she thought. After all, tomorrow is another day.

  Chapter 25

  The cell walls were made of grey cement, etched with the names and scrawlings of many detainees before him. There was a wooden slatted bench along one wall with a thin, itchy blanket and a plastic-covered mattress which Alan sat on, rocking himself back and forth.

  He’d been allowed one telephone call but had declined. What was the point? He had no one to call. His parents wouldn’t care where he was and he doubted they’d be bothered that Kenny was dead. They had seen his brother as nothing but a burden, and, as for him, they would probably quite happily see him rot in jail. The duty solicitor would be in to see him soon, since the police would have called him, but he wasn’t bothered about seeing him either. As far as Alan was concerned, he deserved everything he got.

  What had he been thinking, making Kenny rape that girl? Admittedly, he didn’t rate women much, especially as his mother was such a fine example of a rotten one, but he had never hurt one before. Yes, he’d been violent, had given a good few blokes a bruising and had knocked Kenny about when he needed teaching a lesson, but he had never hit a woman – not once, and he hated it if he saw his dad hitting his mum.

  All of a sudden, Alan realised that now he was just like his father, an aggressive, controlling thug of a man who had made his life a living hell. Alan had sworn to himself that he would never grow up like him, and the appalling truth hit him like a ton of bricks. He had done just that. He was a carbon copy. He had even started drinking copious amounts of booze just like his father.

  Poor Kenny. What sort of life had he had? A short one filled with contempt from his own mother, violence from his father and bullying from his older brother. Alan felt the cell walls begin to close in on him as he thought of Kenny and his naïve innocence. They say that ignorance is bliss and in Kenny’s case it had been. He had looked up to Alan, admired him, and what had he shown him in return? Nothing! Nothing but the same example his father had shown him.

  He shuffled along the bench until he was sat side on to the wall and then smashed his head brutally against it, yet felt no relief from his internal torture. He slammed it into the wall again, then again, over and over as blood began to ooze from his skull.

  He paused for a moment and touched his head, and bizarrely the sight of the blood made him feel better, so once again he slammed his head onto the bricks. Blood gushed now and Alan knew he deserved this, deserved to be punished for causing his brother’s death. The more he hit his head, the better he felt and soon there was no more pain, just numbness in its place.

  Drool dripped from Alan’s mouth and bright-red blood splattered on the cell wall, but still he continued to smash his head, crying for the loss of Kenny, the one person who had ever truly loved him.

  It’ll be over soon, he thought to himself. I’ll be dead, just like Kenny.

  Chapter 26

  It was May and it could still be months before Katy’s trial. In the meantime she was on remand, and with bail set at such a high figure Jackie had no choice but to leave her daughter behind bars. It had broken Jackie’s heart and she was still on sick leave from her nursing job at the hospital, but at least it gave Polly the opportunity to return some of the kindness that Jackie had shown her. She had been cooking her meals and keeping up with the household chores, and though Polly felt it wasn’t much, it was better than nothing.

  Ross did nothing to help, and made life at the Bentons’ house almost intolerable for Polly. Most of the time he simply ignored her, never once thanking her for the hearty dinners she served up night after night. But Polly preferred it that way, because when he did speak it was only to make a nasty jibe, and some of the comments were so cutting that they really hurt her feelings.

  One afternoon when Polly was in the kitchen the doorbell rang. She rushed to answer it and found Toby standing on the doorstep. It had been some time since he had been to see them, and Polly assumed it was because he was giving them some space to deal with all that had happened.

  ‘Toby, hello, come in,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘Thanks. Hello, Mrs Benton, how are you?’ Toby greeted Jackie as he walked into the living room.

  ‘As well as can be expected, I suppose, what with my Katy being locked up in that awful prison.’

  ‘I know, I’m sorry. How is she coping?’

  ‘Better than me, I think, but I think she puts on a brave face so that she doesn’t upset me. At least we’ve been able to apply for legal aid to cover the cost of lawyers, so that’s something, I suppose.’

  Ross came running down the stairs. ‘Toby, I thought I heard your voice. Come on, let’s go for a walk.’

  ‘Aren’t you going to st
ay for a cup of tea?’ Jackie asked.

  Ross fixed accusing eyes on Polly, saying, ‘No, he won’t want to stay, not when there’s such a rotten smell in here.’

  Polly could feel her cheeks flame red and looked at Toby, who appeared to be taken aback by Ross’s comment.

  ‘Ross,’ Jackie cried, ‘this has to stop. You’re causing such a bad atmosphere, and I can’t take it any more. Things are bad enough and it’s not fair on me, or on Polly!’

  ‘Well, if Polly doesn’t like it, she knows where she can go. It’s not like she’s homeless. There’s a perfectly good house with her name on it sitting down in Kent and I think it’s about time she went back to it.’

  Polly couldn’t take any more either and fled from the house, barely aware that she only had slippers on. Just before she turned the corner, she heard Toby calling out to her. His voice halted her and she stopped, but as soon as he drew level she carried on, walking now instead of running.

  ‘I know I haven’t been round for a while,’ Toby began, ‘but I can’t believe the way Ross is behaving. I hoped he’d have come to his senses by now, but he’s just as bad. He’s my best mate but I don’t like the way he talks to you, or to his mother. It isn’t right.’

  ‘He’s upset about Katy and he’s got every right to be. Since I moved into their home I’ve caused them nothing but trouble,’ Polly said.

  ‘Come on, let’s go and sit in the park for a bit and we can talk,’ Toby suggested.

  Polly saw the warmth in his eyes and nodded her head, unable to speak for fear of bursting out crying.

  It was a sunny Saturday afternoon and there were quite a few people about, meandering around or walking their dogs, but despite the balmy weather Polly shivered. Toby removed his jacket as they sat on a bench and placed it around her shoulders, then asked, ‘Does Ross always talk to you like that?’

  ‘Yes, but if you remember he wasn’t any different before.’ Polly paused. ‘You know, before everything happened.’

  ‘You’re right. I remember having a conversation with him and he told me to stay well clear of you.’

  ‘What do you mean? Why would he say that?’

  Toby looked suddenly shy and lowered his eyes. ‘I told him that I liked you, and still do.’

  ‘Oh,’ Polly said, at a loss for words.

  ‘Please, don’t go back to Kent. I should have found the nerve to ask you out ages ago, and I should have had a word with Ross about the way he treated you and Katy. I can’t help but blame myself for what happened that night. If I had spoken to Ross, maybe you and Katy would have stayed in the pub with us instead of going back to the Star, and then none of that dreadful business would have happened.’

  ‘Toby, you can’t blame yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me,’ Polly told him, deliberately ignoring the bit that Toby had said about liking her and hoping he wouldn’t mention it again.

  ‘No, you’re not, but perhaps we all have regrets about what happened that night,’ Toby said soberly. ‘I want to be here for you, Polly, and as I said I’ve always liked you. I’m sorry if you think I’ve let you down in any way, but if you’ll let me I’ll prove to you that I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.’

  Polly bit her bottom lip and thought for a moment. She did like Toby, and she found him attractive, but the thought of being physically close to a man turned her stomach.

  ‘I’m sorry, Toby, but after what the Purvis brothers did to me, I’m not ready for any sort of relationship and I don’t think I will be for a very long time. I hope you understand. Can … can we just be friends?’

  Toby looked disappointed but said softly, ‘Yes, I understand, and we will always be friends. Who knows, though? Maybe one day, when you’re ready, we can be more than that?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Polly answered, but she doubted it. With Ross being so cruel and wanting to be rid of her, she had made up her mind to return to her parents’ house, and the sooner she could leave the better.

  With Jackie still traumatised, it was June before Polly felt that she could leave. She had waited four weeks and was now more determined than ever to make a go of it back in Ivyfield. When they got to the station, Jackie threw her arms around Polly and gave her the tightest squeeze before releasing her and pulling a suitcase from the boot of her car.

  ‘Go on, Polly, hurry up or you’ll miss your train. I know you want to leave, but if you ever want to come back you’ll always have a home with me, and … and please stay in touch,’ she said with tears in her eyes.

  ‘I will, I promise, and I’ll be back soon for Katy’s trial. I don’t know what to say, Jackie – “thank you” just doesn’t seem enough. When I lost my parents, I didn’t think I’d be able to carry on, and I don’t think I’d have got through any of it without you.’

  ‘Yes, you would have. I’ve told you before, you’re stronger than you think. Anyway, enough of all this, I hate goodbyes, so let’s just say “see you later” instead.’

  Polly smiled at the dear woman who had been her rock for the past six months and then turned to walk away. ‘All right, see you later,’ she called over her shoulder. She didn’t look back even though she wanted to, as she knew Jackie would be in floods of tears, and that was something she couldn’t bear to see.

  When her train arrived Polly climbed on board, but as she took a seat her mind was flooded with memories of the last time she had been on a train. It was with her parents, on that fateful Christmas trip, that happy journey that had ended in tragedy. She was filled with sadness. It would be hard to return to her old home for the first time since the death of her parents. She knew it would be filled with memories, but at least they would be happy ones.

  As the train chugged along Polly looked out of the window, eventually seeing the beautiful Kent countryside. Unexpectedly, it lifted her spirits.

  And then came the moment when she found herself standing outside her old home. It felt wonderful to be there; she hadn’t realised how much she had missed the place. With all that had happened in London, this quaint stone cottage offered her a safe haven, a place of tranquillity where she could hide away from the world and heal her emotional wounds.

  The garden looked overgrown, with weeds sprouting up everywhere, and the windows needed cleaning, but everything else looked just as it had the last time she was there. Except she was alone. Polly suddenly felt very melancholy and fought to dismiss her sadness. She had worked hard to prepare herself for this moment and was determined not to let depression overtake her.

  With trepidation she entered the house and immediately noticed the silence. In the past the radio would have been on, and her mum would have been singing along, but the absolute stillness made her feel very alone. Dust had settled on every surface, something her mother would have hated. The lift she’d felt on the train was rapidly replaced with grief. Though she had cried many tears for her parents, being back at the home they had loved brought the pain of their loss surging back.

  Polly fought back tears, trying to push her sadness to one side by making herself busy with things that needed to be done. She saw the pile of letters that her neighbour, Mrs Stewart, had left on the hall table, most probably addressed to her parents, but as there might be some for her containing condolences she couldn’t face looking at them yet. Instead she dusted and vacuumed upstairs and down, but, knowing the sight and smell of her parents’ clothing and personal belongings would make her break down again, she left their bedroom untouched for now.

  With the housework done, but unable to sit, Polly poured herself a glass of water and then looked in the kitchen cupboards. She would have to do some shopping, but the savings her parents had left were rapidly diminishing. Polly stiffened her shoulders. It was time to stand on her own two feet, to really grow up, and as her job on the farm was sure to have been filled by now, she would have to find another job to support herself. She turned up the radio and at last sat down, but most of the music being played reminded her of the good times sh
e’d had with Katy. Another memory surfaced so she began to sing along to one of the songs, loudly – refusing to let the Purvis brothers infiltrate her thoughts.

  After all, Polly told herself, it wasn’t as if they could ever hurt her again. Not now. They were both dead.

  Chapter 27

  In London, Helen was late arriving at the church, but the service for Maude’s funeral hadn’t started and, as there was standing room only, she took a place at the back. She looked to the front and could see Maude’s sons and their partners, and Harry sitting next to Johnnie.

  My goodness, she thought, Johnnie looked so grown up now, and was a good-looking young man. Glenda would have been so proud of her son and it was such a shame she’d missed out on him growing up. Helen recalled the many hours she had spent with Johnnie, but it had been years since he was a small child and she had taken him out. As he grew, Johnnie had often popped up to see her in her eleventh-floor flat and it warmed her heart when he still called her Aunty Helen.

  She had heard recently, though, that he’d been in a bit of bother with the police. Apparently he’d been caught riding in a stolen car, but as he wasn’t the driver he’d managed to get off without any charges. It disappointed Helen to think of him getting in with a bad crowd, especially as he’d always been such a good boy and done well at school when he was younger. He hadn’t made it all the way to grammar school so had followed in his father’s footsteps as a bricklayer, and before Maude had died she’d told Helen that the lad was a grafter, worked hard and spent his money wisely.