The Favourite Child

by Freda Lightfoot

  She had been aware at one point that Quinn was present; had smelled that unmistakable combination of Player’s Weights and Irish Whiskey, though he hadn’t touched her. Not yet. Perhaps she could persuade him, even now, to let her go.

  Bella concentrated on breathing slowly and calmly, which wasn’t easy through the filthy gag bound tightly between her teeth. Only a deep resolve to survive made her steel herself against whatever she might have to face. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, sounding as if it came from somewhere other than her own body. But then everything felt unreal, as if this were happening to someone else and not to her at all.

  She could hear a sound growing louder. The clatter of clogs and rumble of deep voices. Men, coming into the cellar, laughing and talking. Dear Lord, Quinn was holding a dog fight now, this evening, while she was hidden away in this damned cupboard. She could hear Len calling the odds, encouraging them to lay their bets. How long did Quinn mean to keep her here? Would she be able to alert anyone? Bella began to kick against the door. The noise beyond rumbled on, louder than ever. She kicked harder, praying someone would hear. Though how could they possibly through the din they were making? They were cheering now as the dogs fought. She could hear the barking, snapping and snarling, the terrible screaming yelps of one hapless victim. Her stomach lurched and it took every ounce of will power not to vomit. As the noise dropped between fights, Bella kicked the door with her heel again, using all her strength.

  Suddenly the door opened and a hand grasped her neck, making her squeal in surprise. ‘Shut it, if’n ye know what’s good for ye. Just ye stay there nice and quiet, my lovely, till I’m ready to deal with ye.’

  Darkness closed in again and despair settled upon her heart. How long did he intend to keep her prisoner? How would he deal with her? She didn’t care to consider.

  Jinnie told them about the room off Liverpool Street, the one where Sadie had done her worst, but by the time Dan got there, it was empty and clearly had been for some time with the windows all boarded up. He tried Bromley Street again and even, once more as a result of Jinnie’s enquiries among the women who used to work in the mill, discovered his new house in Weaste. So far as he could tell from a swift reccy, that too appeared empty.

  Nor were Bella’s ‘ladies’ idle. Violet scoured the canal bank. Mrs Stobbs toured the public houses, chivvying her husband to act as escort and offer a bit of support along the way by asking questions here and there. Mrs Heap for the first time ever, closed the little cook shop and she and Mrs Solomon visited everyone they could think of who’d had some contact with Quinn in the past. Mrs Blundell, being the only one amongst them who had the courage, tackled the street gangs and bands of youths who prowled the neighbourhood.

  They all drew a blank.

  Back at the rooms over the cook shop Dan said, ‘The problem is there are so many possibilities. We need to persuade Quinn to come to us, instead of us looking for Quinn.’

  Violet snorted. ‘How? He isn’t stupid. He’ll guess what we’re up to.’

  ‘He’d come fast enough if there were money to be made,’ Jinnie said, and they all looked at her in surprise.

  ‘Of course, that’s it. That’s the answer. He needs to get wind that there’s a game on, at which he can make a bob or two. Jinnie’s right, he’d come fast enough then.’

  Mrs Blundell volunteered her husband to act as decoy. It was far easier to swindle a bookie if he trusted you and Quinn would have no reason to be suspicious of Fred Blundell, who was known for his partiality to a hand of poker and a jar or two. Word was sent through a network of contacts which finally reached Len, and a time was fixed for later that day.

  The game was to be held, like many previous, in the back entry near Collins mill, a favourite haunt of card schools. Their hope was that, unable to resist the lure of a profit, Quinn would come along.

  ‘Though I’m still not sure how luring Quinn to a card game will help us find our Bella?’ Violet complained, as the final details were put into place.

  Dan said, ‘Let’s get our hands on the bastard first. We’ll drag, squeeze or beat the information out of him if necessary.’ And since no one had any better ideas, this was agreed upon.

  Simeon, stubborn as ever, absolutely refused Edward’s request that he join the valiant group of friends gathering together to find his elder child. He faced the anger in his son’s face and told him that he had no daughter, none that he recognised.

  ‘Sometimes, Father, you’re a damned fool. What is it that Bella has done which is so terrible? Opened a clinic to help women less fortunate than herself, that’s all. She’s battled against bigoted husbands, the tittle-tattle of the press, the church, the medical profession, worked every hour God sends and yet you’ve done nothing to help. Her work has been recognised as a success by all, except by you, her own father. All right, so she made one mistake. She got herself involved with a ne’er-do-well like Billy Quinn. You could ask yourself if that isn’t your fault too. Yours and mothers.’

  Emily, keeping well behind the counter as if for protection against the appalling rage emanating from her normally gentle boy, gave a little gasp of outrage. ‘We did everything we could for that child. Gave her every advantage.’

  Edward rounded on his mother. ‘No, you didn’t. You gave her what you wanted. Bella wanted an education, which you denied her. She wanted to be a nurse. You objected to that too. Unlike Father, you viewed the clinic as a temporary rebellion, a phase which you assumed would fail and quickly pass, then she’d come scurrying home and continue to wait upon you, hand, foot and finger, as you have Jinnie doing now.’

  Emily let out a terrible wail and, clutching her handkerchief to her wide open mouth, fled to the sanctuary of her sitting room.

  ‘Nay lad, that were a bit close to the knuckle.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Father, but you’ve driven me to it. If Bella had been blessed with a loving home, parents who cared about her and listened to her troubles, maybe she wouldn’t have gone seeking love and attention in the wrong places.’

  ‘That’s a damned insult and you know it.’

  ‘Did you leave the door open, or offer any opportunity for her to come home?’ Recognising the shame in his father’s face he nodded. ‘I thought not. Did you offer your forgiveness or loving support? No, you damned well didn’t. You sat back and left her to stew in her own juices. Bella’s a modern woman with her own way of going about things. At least she has the guts to do what she believes in, while I’ve always gone along with whatever you’ve arranged for me, for all I’ve often hated it.’

  ‘I never made you do anything that wasn’t good for you,’ Simeon protested, but Edward had his dander up now. It was long past time he stood up to his father and he did so, at long last.

  ‘You sent me to an awful school where I spent many miserable, unhappy years being bullied. You didn’t care that I wanted to work with my hands, to be a carpenter, so to please you I tried to learn Greek and Latin and Mathematics, loathing every minute of it. I wanted to be somebody you might be proud of. You decided that I should work in the mill office, not me. You might give the outward impression that you’re soft and accommodating, gently nurturing your womenfolk but that only works when everyone is playing by your rules. Otherwise, you ignore and reject them, as you rejected me. As you have now rejected Bella, when all she ever wanted was to live a useful and productive life. One you were hell-bent on denying her.’

  Simeon’s face was near purple with rage as he listened to these uncomfortable home truths. ‘I only wanted to protect her from the worst of life. A woman shouldn’t have to toil and labour every God-given day. She should have a good husband to mind her.’

  Edward half turned away in disgust. ‘Oh, for pity’s sake, Father, listen to yourself. You might call your behaviour protective - I call it sanctimonious, self-opinionated and old fashioned. That’s what your problem is, Father. Along with your damned pigheadedness,’ Whereupon Edward stormed out, slamming the door behind him
so hard that he heard the shop window rattle. For a terrible moment he thought it might break.

  The session began with a harmless game of pitch and toss, the stakes fairly low. After that they moved on to Black Jack and finally to Poker. They sat in a close huddle, half a dozen men in shabby jackets and patched trousers, the only sounds that of their heavy breathing, the snap of the cards on stone and the wind howling through the broken walls around them. Tension held them silent.

  They weren’t the only ones with nerves stretched to breaking point. From where Dan and his stalwarts watched through the cracks of a back yard gate, the group might have been entirely invisible in the shadows save for the glowing tip of a cigarette and the stink of beer growing stronger by the minute as jug after jug was refilled at the nearby tap room and duly consumed.

  You had to hand it to him, Dan thought, Quinn was slick. If he was manipulating the cards in any way, there was no sign of it. And in contrast to the rest of the men that comprised the card school, he seemed completely relaxed, without any fear of discovery since he had his usual runners stationed about, keeping a weather eye open for the Rozzers.

  In no time at all Fred Blundell had grown loud and boisterous in his drink. No one was surprised. He was, after all, well known for it. His wife, for one, could give testament to that. He’d lost, as usual, though not heavily. Without any sign of rancour he leaned heavily against Quinn and began to sing. ‘When Irish Eyes are Smiling.’

  Quinn shrugged him off and told him to place his stakes and hold his noise.

  Whispering under his breath to Edward crouched beside him, Dan said, ‘Can you see her? Did he bring Bella with him?’

  ‘No chance.’

  ‘Fred looks like he’s getting restless. I hope he holds his nerve. We mustn’t make a move until Jinnie gives us the signal.’

  Edward was fidgeting from one foot to another. ‘Let’s go now, Dan. I’ve had enough of this. He could just up and leave at any minute. Every second that ticks by, Bella is in more danger.’

  ‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ Dan’s frustration was making him irritable. The whole sorry plan now seemed useless, pointless in the extreme. Of course Quinn wouldn’t have brought Bella with him. They were still no nearer to knowing where she was being kept. He thought he might very well explode if he wasn’t able to take action soon.

  Bella’s ‘ladies’ were already taking theirs. Moving softly on clogs wrapped in flannel to deaden the sound, the shawl-shrouded figures crept through the darkness like hooded ghosts. It would be their task to deal with Quinn’s boys and give them the fright of their miserable lives. When each of them had a runner in their sights, a soft cough echoed down the back street and finally Dan saw it, the flicker of light at a bedroom window which was Jinnie’s signal.

  ‘They’re in place. Let’s go.’

  Their timing was superb. As Dan and Edward burst open the back yard gate, Fred Blundell wrapped his octopus arms about Quinn’s shoulders and gave him a hefty drunken smacker on the cheek. Quinn’s roar of protest was cut off in mid voice as Dan added his weight to Fred’s and Edward flattened Len. Both men were pinned to the ground, their faces in the dirt. Seconds later, Quinn was back on his feet and utter mayhem broke out with fists and clogs flying everywhere while the rest of the punters at the card school took the opportunity to scarper. Dan felt the rough cloth of a familiar collar and held on to it like grim death.

  At the very same moment, unfortunate runners secreted in shadowed corners of the back entry were to discover that whatever they might have to fear from the police was as nothing by comparison with the treatment they might expect at the hands of their womenfolk. Rolling pins and rolled up stockings were wielded with reckless abandon and in no time at all, the cobbles were ringing with the sound of running feet.

  ‘That’s got rid of those useless lumps, for now at least,’ Violet said with some satisfaction. ‘Now let’s see what that piece of nasty goods has to say for himself.’

  Quinn had very little to say. Nothing at all in fact, because when order was finally restored, Dan discovered that it was Len he was holding on to and not Quinn at all. Billy Quinn had given them the slip, as always.

  ‘Slippy as a bloody eel,’ was the general consensus of opinion. Always was, always would be. ‘No one should expect to catch the bookmaker,’ Len drily remarked, though he was soon persuaded to change his tune. In fact, after Dan and Edward had enjoyed a little ‘chat’ with him, he proved almost eager to talk.

  The sound came first. The familiar scrape of metal toe caps on the stone floor of the cellar, the familiar tread of booted feet. Heart in mouth, Bella listened. She heard the turn of a key in the lock, then she was being dragged out and flung on to the wet floor.

  The sack was pulled from her head, the gag and blindfold removed. How many hours she had lain in that cupboard Bella couldn’t tell but the dogs had gone from the cellar, along with the noisy spectators. She and Quinn were quite alone.

  Bella got unsteadily to her feet and stood before him, legs shaking with the unaccustomed effort but with her chin held high. She meant to let him see that she would not be cowed by him. ‘You can’t keep me a prisoner for ever. You’ll have to let me go some time.’

  ‘When I’m good and ready. When I say you can go and not before.’ His voice was little more than a snarl. He sounded like a mad dog himself, one who’d been cornered and was indeed fighting for his life. Had he come to take his fill of her as he’d threatened? To enjoy his rights, as he termed them? Or would he relent, now that he’d scared the living daylights out of her, and release her?

  ‘You’re going to come with me and do exactly as I tell ye. Didn’t I explain to ye long since how I’m in need of someone to help me improve me life. You and me, Bella, is meant for each other. Sure and won’t ye be thankful for this day in a year or two’s time when yer living in the finest house on the Polygon and with the wealthiest bookmaker in the business.’

  ‘Over my dead body.’

  ‘Tch! There you go, saying those dratted words again. All right, if that’s the way ye want it, that’s the way ye can have it.’

  It happened before she had time to draw breath. One minute he was smiling down into her eyes, the next he had smacked her across the head, sending her sprawling on her stomach across the floor. Blood spurted from her nose and Bella was sure it must be broken. Her head spun but her brain was working fast, faster than ever before. From the corner of her eye she spotted a thick spar of wood, snatched it up and as he lunged for her a second time Bella turned on to her back and struck out. It caught him full in the face, bringing with it a look of complete surprise as he dropped to his knees and then fell flat on the ground.

  The next instant the cellar door burst open and a whole crowd of shouting people flowed in, a sea of faces that washed towards her like a great tide but Bella saw only one face, only one pair of outstretched arms. ‘Pa’, she cried, and half fell as he gathered her close.

  ‘I’m glad that Simeon thought better of his decision not to help, and that you are reconciled with your father. But what about us?’

  Bella looked into Dan’s face and thought how very much she loved him. She regretted the differences that had torn them apart and welcomed, with all her heart, that he was again a part of her life. But was she yet ready to think of a future for them both?

  It was the following morning and they were sitting on their favourite park bench, close together this time. Somewhere she could even hear a lark singing.

  ‘Im glad about Pa too. Sometimes he’s far too stubborn for his own good. You’re very much the same, Dan Haworth, in that respect.’ She smiled teasingly at him to soften her words, laughing still more when she saw his blush. ‘We had a long talk last night when he took me back home to his new business premises. Mother made me a sandwich, would you believe, and a cup of tea. Unprecedented.’ Bella chuckled at the memory of her mother struggling with the bread knife and her own silent plea to her father to leave her to it. Given tim
e, who knows, Emily might even take up housewifery. ‘Pa was full of apologies for his behaviour towards me this last year or so, which of course I generously accepted.’

  ‘You haven’t offered to give everything up and go and help in his shop, have you?’

  ‘As if I would!’ Bella pulled off her crocheted hat to run her fingers through her long red hair as she laughed out loud. ‘Not unless I had a death wish, for there would certainly be blue murder done if Mother and I were ever to share a house again. Actually, I was hugely impressed that Pa didn’t even ask me to. Very noble. He swears he is more than ready to accept that I’m a fully grown woman with a mind, and a life, of my own. He’s making progress, eh?’

  Bella wondered if the same could be said about Dan. As if reading her mind he cleared his throat then said, ‘I’ve learned a few lessons too, Bella. I understand now that material differences aren’t important, it’s how two people are inside that counts. And I do realise that I should’ve trusted you and not listened to the gossipmongers. As for them childer, well, I’m sorry about that but perhaps I just felt it was all happening a bit too fast.’

  ‘As if you were being landed with somebody else’s cast-offs? They were babies Dan, in need of love and care.’

  ‘I know. I needed a bit of time to adjust, that’s all.’ He gazed at her, his expression soulful although the soft grey-blue eyes held just a glimmer of hope. ‘I do love you, Bella. Can we start again? It’s not too late for us, is it?’

  For a long moment, endlessly long in Dan’s mind, she sat in silent contemplation. He could hear the wind brushing through the branches above their heads, a hauntingly lonely sound. Then clasping her hands in her lap she began to talk. ‘You are aware of what I’ve been doing all these months, all through this long, hard winter?’