by Joan Jonker
‘Why don’t yer get yerself a hobby to while away the time?’
‘Hobby? What sort of hobby, lass?’
‘I dunno, but there must be somethin’ yer can do.’ Molly pondered for a while, then her face lit up. ‘I know, yer could make a rug! I can get yer a piece of sacking an’ me ma must have an old coat she could cut up. If she hasn’t, I have! All me flamin’ coats are as old as the hills.’
Bob shook his head. ‘That’s not for me, lass, that’s woman’s work.’
‘Are you kidding? Jack’s better at the old hook than I am! When I was makin’ the rugs in our bedrooms, he did more work on them than I did!’
‘Now isn’t that a good idea?’ Bridie came through carrying a tray. She too worried about her husband having nothing to occupy his mind, but she’d never have thought of rug-making in a million years. She threw Molly a look of gratitude as she set the tray on the table. ‘We could do with one for the side of the bed, save puttin’ our feet on the cold lino. But instead of using old rags I’ll buy some wool and make a nice colourful one.’
‘Oh, aye? And what will you be doing while I’m slaving away?’
‘Sure, won’t I be sitting at the other end of the sack, helping yer with it? It’ll be a joint venture, so it will.’
‘That’s what Jack and I did.’ Molly leaned forward to gaze into her father’s face. ‘One each end, an’ we met in the middle.’
‘Okay, I know when I’m beat.’ Bob gave a deep sigh, but he wasn’t displeased. After all, if Jack did it, why couldn’t he? Jack was certainly no sissy boy. ‘With two of yer against me, I don’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell.’
‘Right!’ Molly said triumphantly. ‘I’ll ask Tucker for a clean sack when he delivers me coal … he’s due tomorrow.’
‘Here’s your tea, lass.’ The two conspirators smiled at each other. ‘An’ there’s some ginger snaps on the plate, help yerself.’
‘Ooh, me favourites.’ Molly made a dive for the plate. ‘Yer don’t mind if I dunk them, do yer, Ma?’ Without waiting for a reply, she dipped the biscuit into her tea. ‘No, I thought yer wouldn’t.’
‘In the name of God, Corker, are you following me, or is it the other way around?’ Molly looked up at the big man, who had opened the Clarkes’ door in answer to her knock. ‘Yer keep poppin’ up like a flamin’ jack-in-the-box.’
Corker roared with laughter. ‘Just keepin’ an eye on yer, Molly me darlin’, making sure yer don’t get up to any mischief.’
‘Fat chance of that, Corker! Can yer imagine me having a fancy man on the sly?’
‘Well, now, I dunno.’ Corker kept his face straight while he stroked his beard. ‘Yer a fine figure of a woman, Molly Bennett.’
‘Perhaps I should buy a new mirror, Corker, because the one we’ve got makes me look more like Patsy Kelly than Loretta Young.’ A grin crossed Molly’s face as a picture of the American comedienne flashed through her mind. She was no oil painting, was Patsy Kelly, but she was one of Molly’s favourite film stars. If she was in a picture then you were bound to get a laugh. ‘Anyway, Corker, standin’ here isn’t goin’ to get me work done. How is Gordon?’
‘Phoebe said he’d done nothin’ but whinge since Ellen went to work, but he seems to have perked up a bit now. His throat is inflamed and it’s probably sore, so it’s only natural he’d want his mam here to mollycoddle him.’
‘He’ll be more than happy to have you around … thinks the world of Sinbad, does Gordon. Anyway, d’yer want me to stay with him for an hour while you get about yer business?’
Corker shook his head. ‘I’m just making him some porridge, nice and thin so he’ll have no trouble swallowing it. Then he should sleep for a couple of hours. But I’d be grateful if yer’d slip in this afternoon, just to make sure he’s all right. It could be tonsillitis he’s got, but we’ll wait till Ellen gets home, see what she says.’
‘Are yer callin’ to the shop to let her know yer home?’
‘Yeah. I want to have a word with Tony, see if she can have the day off tomorrow.’
‘What on earth d’yer want to go to Winwick for? It’ll only be a waste of time … Nobby won’t even know yez.’
‘I have my reasons.’ Corker turned his head when the sound of a wail reached his ears. ‘I’d better get back to him. But if you an’ Jack can come for a drink tomorrow night, I’ll tell yer what they are. Yer know what Ellen’s like, if I leave it to her we’ll never get anywhere. She’s frightened of what people will say, but me, I couldn’t give a monkey’s uncle what anyone thinks. Except for me friends, that is. An’ as I count you and Jack, and Nellie and George, as me best friends, I want to be open an’ above board with yez.’
Ooh, Molly thought, it sounds very mysterious. She would have loved to question him further, but she could see he was on pins to get back to the sick boy. Patience wasn’t one of her virtues, but this time she had no option but to keep her curiosity in check. ‘I’ll give Nellie the eye-eye an’ we’ll see yer tomorrow night, then, Corker. But in the meantime, I’ll ask Jill and Steve to sit with the kids tonight.’
‘Thanks, Molly. If Gordon’s no better, I’ll let them know, ’cos Ellen won’t want to leave him. But I’m crushing two aspirin into his porridge, so that might do the trick.’ He held up his huge hand. ‘See, I’m keeping me fingers crossed.’
‘An’ I’ll cross everythin’ I’ve got … see if that helps.’ Molly smiled as she turned away. A sick child was no laughing matter, but she could imagine Jack’s face if she was cross-eyed when he came in from work.
Ellen was shaking visibly as they walked up the path to Winwick Hospital for the Insane. The place itself was enough to unnerve her, without the added dread of seeing Nobby. Even the pressure of Corker’s hand on her elbow did little to relieve her tension.
‘Ellen, love, it’ll all be over in an hour, so stop worrying.’ There was tenderness and sympathy in Corker’s voice as he looked down from his great height. ‘It’s somethin’ we’ve got to do, and the sooner we get it over with the better.’
‘Corker, yer’ve no idea how awful I feel. Even the sound of his name makes me want to shrivel up inside.’
‘But he can’t harm you, love.’ Corker squeezed her elbow. ‘I’ll make sure he never hurts you again.’
‘Promise yer won’t leave me alone with him?’
‘I promise.’ Corker pushed the door open and stood aside to let Ellen through. ‘We’ll ask to see Nobby first, then you can stay in the corridor while I have a word with one of the doctors.’
A male nurse led them down stark corridors, passing doors through which maniacal laughter, screams and animal noises came. If it hadn’t been for Corker’s restraining arm across her shoulders, Ellen would have turned and fled. She had sympathy for those forced to live out their lives in such dreadful surroundings, for no one chose to be mad. But the deep scars left on her mind by the years of brutality and humiliation heaped on her by her husband were too raw for her to forgive him.
The nurse unlocked a door and swung it open. ‘I’m afraid Mr Clarke isn’t in a very good mood today,’ he said softly. ‘Would you like me to stay in the room?’
‘That won’t be necessary,’ Corker said gruffly.
The nurse sized up the giant of a man and mentally agreed. Here was someone who could lift Nobby Clarke up with one hand if the occasion arose. Pity he didn’t work here, they could do with someone like him. Especially when Nobby was in one of his violent moods. He was a bad bastard, was Nobby Clarke, disliked and feared by all the staff. ‘I’ll have to lock the door … rules, you understand. But I’ll only be outside, so knock when you’re ready to leave.’
Corker waited till he heard the key turn, then led Ellen towards the man sitting in a chair with his back to them, looking out of the barred window. The room was small and cheerless, the only furniture a small iron bed, a square, heavy table, and the chair Nobby was sitting on. When Ellen looked at him questioningly after glancing around for somewhere to sit,
Corker nodded to the wide ledge of the window.
‘Hello, Nobby.’ Corker waited for Ellen to sit, then lowered himself into the narrow space beside her. ‘How are yer?’
Nobby gazed from one to the other, no sigh of recognition in the deep-sunken eyes. Seconds turned into a minute, and Ellen could feel the fear building up inside her. She clasped her hands nervously as the unblinking eyes fixed on her, and the words ‘we shouldn’t have come’ repeated themselves over and over in her mind.
Then suddenly, without warning, Nobby gripped the arms of his chair and lunged towards Ellen until their faces were almost touching. She could see the saliva trickling from his mouth as a flow of obscenities was screamed at her, and the venom sparking from his eyes was so strong she thought she was going to faint with fear. A cry left her lips as she fell back against the window, trying to put as much distance between them as she could.
‘What the hell!’ Corker jumped to his feet, pushed Nobby back into his chair and stood in front of him, shielding Ellen from the onslaught. He cursed himself for being caught off guard, but the attack had come out of the blue and he wasn’t prepared. He felt like taking Nobby by the throat and shaking him like a rag doll for forcing Ellen to listen to some of the worst language Corker had ever heard. But as he gazed down into the grinning, slobbering face, he asked God to forgive him for the evil thoughts running through his mind. Taking a deep breath, he said softly, ‘You haven’t changed, have yer, Nobby? You always were a bastard.’
Making sure he was blocking any movement Nobby might make, Corker turned his head. ‘Are you all right, love?’
Ellen cleared her throat. ‘Can we go now, please?’
‘Go an’ knock on the door.’
Only when the door had been opened and Ellen was safely in the corridor did Corker move. Without a backward glance, he strode from the room with Nobby’s hysterical laughter ringing in his ears.
‘I’d like to see one of the doctors in charge,’ Corker said, as the nurse turned the key. ‘I want some information.’
‘I’m afraid all the doctors are busy. If it’s information about Mr Clarke yer want, perhaps I can help.’
But Corker was adamant. ‘My ship sails tomorrow so I’ve no time to spare. It’s urgent that I see a doctor, and I want to see him now.’
‘If you’ll wait here, I’ll see if I can find one.’ As he walked away, the nurse hung a bunch of keys on a belt around his waist. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’
Ellen gazed up at Corker. ‘Couldn’t you leave it until another time? I feel as though I’m goin’ to be sick.’
‘No, love, it’s got to be now. If we keep putting it off we’ll never get ourselves sorted out. And it would mean another trip up here … I’m sure yer don’t fancy goin’ through a scene like that again, do yer?’
Ellen shivered. ‘I’ll never come here again.’
‘That’s settled then. We’ll get it over with once and for all.’
Ellen and Corker were already in the snug bar when Molly and Nellie came in, followed by Jack and George. ‘You’re quick off the mark, aren’t yer, Corker?’ Molly eyed the drinks lined up on the table. ‘Don’t hang around, do yer?’
‘Life’s too short to hang around, Molly me darlin’.’ Corker’s smile of welcome covered the four arrivals. ‘Sit yerselves down an’ take the weight off yer feet.’
The conversation between the men went from Corker’s last trip to the latest news from Europe. And all the while Molly was getting more impatient. Ellen was always quiet, but tonight she was very nervous and withdrawn. Every time Molly caught her eye, she would look away quickly, as though she was afraid of being questioned. She hadn’t called in tonight on her way home from work, and that in itself was unusual. In the end, Molly decided to take the bull by the horns, even though she knew Jack would give her cow eyes. ‘How did yez find Nobby?’
Ellen’s head dropped and she gazed at the glass in her hand. This was going to be more upsetting than the visit to Winwick. She’d asked Corker not to mention anything, but he’d said that the Bennetts and the McDonoughs were their friends and it was only right they were told.
‘No change.’ Corker went on to explain in detail what had happened. Then he waited until the various views had been aired before saying, ‘I had a word with one of the doctors.’
‘Oh, aye?’ Molly leaned forward, her eyes bright with interest. ‘What did he have to say about Nobby?’
Corker took a long swill of beer before answering. ‘The reason I wanted to see the doctor wasn’t really to ask about Nobby’s health. I wanted to know if there was any chance of him ever gettin’ out of there and comin’ home.’
‘There isn’t, is there?’ Nellie sounded shocked at the idea.
Corker shook his head. ‘No. We’d already been told that, last time we were there, but I wanted to make sure.’ Corker put his glass down and reached to take one of Ellen’s hands in his. ‘Yer see, I want Ellen to divorce him an’ marry me.’
Four mouths gaped and four glasses were set down as four heads tried to marshal their thoughts into some sort of order. Molly was the first to recover. ‘Can she get a divorce from him?’
Corker scrutinised each face for disapproval, but found none. Shock and surprise, yes, but no disapproval. ‘The doctor seems to think so. In his words, if Ellen can produce proof that her husband is insane, with no possibility of him ever returning to a normal life, she should have no problem in gettin’ a divorce on those grounds.’
‘That’s a blessing, isn’t it, girl?’ Nellie patted Ellen’s arm. ‘I’m not goin’ to be a hypocrite an’ say I’m sorry for Nobby, ’cos I’m not. He gave you an’ the kids a dog’s life … yer better off without him.’
‘Nellie’s right,’ George said. ‘Although I shouldn’t say it under the circumstances, I couldn’t stand the man. No one who knew him had a good word to say about him.’
‘I hope God’s not listening in to this conversation,’ Molly said. ‘We’re all being very uncharitable. But as Nobby only has himself to blame for where he is, I think God would understand when I say it’s good riddance to bad rubbish.’ She quickly made a sign of the cross. ‘I’ll say an extra prayer tonight, just in case.’
Corker was watching Jack’s face. ‘What about you, Jack?’
‘I think Molly’s right in saying we’re uncharitable … we should all feel pity for someone who’s locked up in a madhouse.’ Jack gazed at Ellen’s bowed head as he remembered the sounds that used to come from the house next door when she was being subjected to beatings. How she used to walk down the street with her eyes to the ground, her pride and dignity having been knocked out of her over the years. And the kids in their dirty, raggedy clothes, hair alive with fleas because Ellen couldn’t afford to keep them clean. Like their mother they were terrified of their own shadows. ‘But we all know what Nobby was, and I agree with Nellie. We’d be hypocrites to pretend he was anything but a violent, evil man.’ Jack put a finger under Ellen’s chin and raised her head. ‘You go for your divorce, Ellen, an’ I wish you an’ Corker the best of luck … yer both deserve it.’
‘I’ll say they do!’ Molly felt as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Jack was a bit straight-laced, didn’t believe in divorce, and she’d been afraid of his reaction. Ellen was in a bad enough state as it was without anyone going all religious on her.
‘I’m made up for yer, girl.’ Nellie nodded her head along with her chins. ‘Yer’ve got a good man in Corker.’
‘Just one thing, though.’ Molly grinned. ‘Don’t get married this year, eh? All me money’s spoke for with our Jill’s engagement party.’
‘Molly, it takes at least two years for a divorce to come through.’ Corker was relieved the ordeal was over. He wanted his friends’ approval, and he’d got it. ‘Plenty of time for yer to save up.’
Nellie preened herself. ‘Can I be a bridesmaid?’ She started to shake with laughter. ‘Yer’d have no need to buy me a bridesmaid’s dress, a barrag
e balloon would do.’ Her cheeks moved upwards to cover her eyes as her tummy shook with laughter. ‘That’s about the only bloody thing that would fit me.’
Chapter Nineteen
Victoria Clegg shivered and pulled her rocking chair nearer the fender. The dying embers in the grate weren’t giving out much heat, but it wasn’t worth putting more coal on because the play she was listening to on the wireless would be finished soon and then she’d be off to bed. In fact she’d put the gaslight out half an hour ago, at her usual time for climbing the stairs, but then she’d found herself so gripped by the murder mystery she knew she wouldn’t get off to sleep for wondering who the murderer was. She wasn’t even tired now, because the plot was so exciting it had her gripping the arms of the chair.
‘Well!’ She spoke to the empty room as the music heralded the end of the play. ‘I’d never have guessed that! Fancy him being the murderer! I could have sworn it was the brother, he had a real sinister voice.’
Victoria pushed her chair back and made her way to the sideboard where a candle was standing on a saucer ready to be lit. ‘Now where did I put that box of matches?’ She ran her hand over the shiny surface. ‘I’m sure I put them on here, but they seem to have disappeared.’ With her left hand she made a thorough search between the two brass candlesticks, the statue of the Whistling Boy, and framed photographs of her parents. All to no avail. Then she remembered that the same thing had happened once before and she’d found the matches on the ledge of the window that overlooked the yard.
‘I’m getting forgetful in me old age.’ Victoria had lived in the house for over eighty years and could find her way blindfolded, so it was easy for her to skirt the table and chairs without bumping into them. ‘I just hope they’re here … I’ll be in queer street if they’re not.’ She put her hand on the ledge under the closed curtains and ran it along, parting the curtains slightly as she did so.
‘Success!’ Victoria sighed with relief as her hand came into contact with the box of Bryant and May. ‘I’d lose me head if it wasn’t stuck on.’ She glanced up at the sky. ‘It’s a nice clear night. We’ll have summer on us before we know it.’
