A Mother's Duty

by June Francis

  They vanished through the door which led to the back basement as Kitty gazed at her cousin, noting her bloodied face and scratches with a sick heart. She blinked back tears. The top buttons had been ripped from her coat which gaped open revealing the torn blouse beneath. Her stockings were laddered and there was blood and fluid smeared down her legs. A lump rose in Kitty’s throat and she pressed her lips to her cousin’s cheek before hurrying to fetch water and a cloth.

  She knelt on the rug and dabbed gently at Annie’s face. Her cousin’s eyelids flickered open. ‘It’s OK, luv,’ said Kitty. ‘I’ve got you.’

  ‘Kit!’ Annie started up, clutching the front of Kitty’s cardigan and gazing at her with wide frightened eyes. ‘He-he-he-he,’ she stammered.

  Kitty dropped the towel and hugged her. ‘Hush now, hush! It’ll be all right.’ That keening cry issued forth from Annie again and Kitty wanted to weep. ‘You just hang on to me,’ she said unsteadily. ‘You’re going to be all right.’

  ‘He – he raped me,’ gasped Annie, ‘and I was saving meself for Jimmy.’ She burst into uncontrollable weeping.

  Kitty rocked her back and forth, wanting to scream out the truth about Jimmy and the woman he had gone off with but what would be the point? The truth would hurt Annie unbearably. She let her cousin cry and eventually she lifted her head. ‘What am I going to do, Kit?’ Her voice wobbled and her eyes brimmed with tears once more. ‘What am I going to do? How can I tell Mam and Dad what that swine’s done to me?’

  ‘You have to tell them,’ said Kitty.

  ‘I can’t! It’ll upset them terrible.’

  Kitty took a deep breath. ‘I’ll tell your mam.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Yes, Annie. What if you have a baby?’

  Annie started up. ‘I’ll kill meself if that happens.’

  ‘Don’t talk like that,’ said Kitty, her own voice shaking.

  ‘I will! I’ll kill myself,’ said Annie frantically, swaying backwards and forwards. ‘I wish I could get him! He deserves to die for what he’s done to me.’ She began to sob again. ‘I was going to go to Rhyl in summer to see Jimmy but he won’t want me now.’

  ‘Forget about Jimmy,’ said Kitty. ‘He left us remember.’

  ‘So did the big fella. This is all his fault.’

  ‘He wasn’t to know this would happen,’ protested Kitty. ‘Listen, love. I’ll see you home after I’ve made the supper drinks and speak to your mam.’

  ‘I don’t want to go home. I can’t go home.’

  ‘You have to! Your mam’ll be worried about you.’

  ‘I can’t! I look a mess! I can’t walk through the streets like this. I want to stay here with you. I’m frightened to go out. He might be there waiting.’

  Kitty realised there could be some truth in that. ‘OK. You can stay here. Go and have a wash and a lie-down upstairs. If your dad comes looking for you he can—’

  ‘I’m not letting me dad see me like this! He might try and do something and that fella’d make mincemeat out of him. Dad’s only little!’

  ‘OK! OK! What’d you want me to do?’

  Annie clutched at Kitty’s cardigan again. ‘Say I’ve been sick.’

  Kitty smiled despite the desperate situation she felt them to be in. ‘What do we blame? My cooking? Besides your face is a mess. It’ll have to be something else.’

  ‘Say I fell down the steps! That I’ve broken me leg!’

  ‘Now you’re getting carried away. You’d be—’

  ‘Mrs Ryan!’ The voice was male and caused the women to clutch each other. It came again. ‘Mrs Ryan, I’m Daniel O’Neill. You’ve met my wife. Can you let me in?’ It was an Irish voice. It had music in it and was like hearing a voice from heaven now she knew whom it belonged to.

  ‘Hold on.’ Kitty covered her cousin’s legs with a towel and hurried towards the window. She glanced through the hole before going to the door and sliding back the bolts.

  ‘I hope I didn’t frighten you?’ said the man outside.

  She could barely see the face which showed faintly between a crop of curling dark hair and a navy blue fisherman’s jumper. ‘You did. But come in, Mr O’Neill. I’m glad to see you but I wish you’d come earlier. He got to my cousin.’

  ‘I’m deeply sorry. He knew the back streets better than my men and now we’ve lost him, dammit!’ He stepped inside wiping his feet on the coconut mat.

  ‘You’ll get him, though?’ she said, unable to keep the fear out of her voice. Now she could see him more clearly she was in some way reminded of her dead husband Michael who had been dark-haired and of sturdy build when they had first met. He’d also had that Irish lilt to his voice.

  ‘Sooner or later. If he tries to get back home we’ve got him,’ said Mr O’Neill. ‘The police might be afraid to walk the back alleys of Scottie Road but my men aren’t.’

  ‘And if he doesn’t go back home?’ insisted Kitty.

  ‘We’ll keep looking – but don’t you worry we won’t leave you and your family unprotected. I’ll have someone watching this place.’

  That relieved her mind. ‘Thank you.’

  He held out a hand. ‘I wish we could have met under happier circumstances, Mrs Ryan.’

  ‘Me too.’ Kitty was reassured by the strength in his grip and was reminded of the big fella. ‘Have you heard from Mr McLeod?’ she asked impulsively.

  ‘No. But my wife wrote to his uncle’s address yesterday.’

  ‘You think he’ll have reached there? I thought maybe the weather might have delayed him.’

  ‘Hopefully not. But John knows how to look after himself anyhow.’ He seemed about to say something more but at that moment the inner door opened and Mick and Teddy entered carrying a sheet of plywood. Mr O’Neill nodded in their direction and left.

  Kitty explained to the boys what he had said and they seemed relieved that at least someone was keeping a watch over them. ‘I wonder who these men are helping him,’ said Mick.

  ‘Probably sailors,’ said Teddy, hammering in a nail crookedly. ‘Celia said the O’Neills own Green’s shipping line.’

  ‘You’ve met Celia?’ asked Mick, surprised.

  ‘Yeah! She came with Mrs O’Neill the other day. I think she was sorry to have missed you.’ He changed the subject.

  Kitty saw Annie to bed and did the supper drinks. When one of Annie’s sisters called to see why she had not arrived home, she was told that Annie was not feeling so good and would be staying the night. Fortunately the young girl showed no interest in seeing her sister and went back home. Kitty made sure all the downstairs windows and doors were locked and went to bed. Not to sleep, though. She was too tense for that, worrying about her cousin and wondering what John McLeod would do when he received Mrs O’Neill’s letter.

  The next morning Kitty was thankful she had few guests because she determined to manage without Annie’s help and left her cousin undisturbed, waiting until she had cleared away the breakfast dishes before going upstairs to her room. Annie was not there and after a quick search Kitty found her in another of the vacant guest rooms polishing the lino as if her life depended on it,

  Before Kitty could speak Annie said, ‘You don’t need that bully boy to ruin things for yer, Kit, if things don’t buck up soon you’ll be going out of business. You should get the boys down the Pier Head touting for custom like Jimmy used to. Now he was a worker.’

  ‘You should be resting,’ said Kitty, distressed at the sight of her cousin’s bruised and battered face.

  ‘Can’t rest.’ Annie looked up at her from dark-circled eyes. ‘I keep thinking.’

  ‘Thinking what?’

  ‘If that Mr O’Neill has found the swine yet.’

  ‘There’s a man outside keeping an eye on the place so I don’t think he has. I’m sure he’ll do his best, though.’

  ‘What if he doesn’t find him?’

  Kitty was silent. She did not want to think about that.

  ‘What about the big fella?’ sai
d Annie.

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘D’you think he’ll come back?’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘And what then?’

  Kitty stared at her wondering what she wanted her to say.

  ‘Will he be staying here?’ said Annie strongly. ‘Because if he does I’ll leave.’

  ‘What d’you mean leave? You can’t surely be blaming him for what happened to you?’

  ‘Some of the blame has to be his. How would Charley have found us otherwise?’

  It was on the tip of Kitty’s tongue to tell her that Jimmy had told him where to find them but she did not have the heart. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘And maybe the big fella won’t come back. He’s gone to try and make things up with his grandfather so maybe he’ll stay up in Scotland.’ She hesitated before adding, ‘I don’t want to lose you, Annie. You know how much I depend on you. I doubt I could find anyone prepared to work as hard as you do. Two girls couldn’t do your work.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Kit,’ said Annie, getting to her feet with difficulty. ‘But you’ve got me wrong. I want him to come back so I can leave. He’s a big strong fella and not averse to getting his hands dirty. He could do some of my work and the boys could do the rest in their spare time until yer get really busy. Then you can take on a couple of girls, as well.’

  ‘If you’re not against him then why leave?’ she asked, confused.

  Annie sighed deeply. ‘I can’t stay here anymore. It’ll be a constant reminder of last night. I’ve been thinking if I’m OK I’ll go to London – see a bit of the world.’

  ‘You’ll be lonely, love.’

  Annie’s expression hardened. ‘I don’t care about that. I want to be with strangers. I don’t want people staring at me, asking questions.’

  ‘Who’s going to do that? Nobody knows what happened except us.’

  ‘And I want to keep it like that! That’s why I’d like to stay here a few nights. If I go home while me face is like this Mam’ll have to know what happened and our crowd’ll soon hear about it then – yer know how they earwig. And before yer know it, it’ll be all over the neighbourhood.’

  ‘All right, you can stay here but don’t mention London again.’

  ‘I want to go to London. You write me a good character reference and I should be able to get a job in an hotel there.’

  Kitty shook her head.

  ‘I’ve made up me mind,’ said Annie and getting down on her knees she began to polish the floor again as if her survival depended on it.

  The next few days passed slowly with no word from the O’Neills but then on the Friday when Kitty was returning from the market she saw a car parked in front of her hotel. As she approached Mrs O’Neill got out.

  ‘Have they found Charley?’ asked Kitty eagerly.

  ‘I’m afraid not, but Daniel reckons he’s left town. He hasn’t been home and hasn’t been seen in any of his usual haunts.’

  Kitty’s face fell. ‘Damn! I’d have liked him caught but I’m sure your husband did his best. Thank him for me.’

  ‘You can thank him yourself when you see him,’ said Mrs O’Neill. ‘I have a son, David. He’s a bit of a loner and doesn’t rate his sisters much as playmates. Bring your boys to tea this Sunday if you can manage it.’

  ‘I’ll manage it,’ said Kitty, her pleasure showing. ‘It’ll be good to get away from here if only for a short while. We’re slack at the moment so it’s no problem.’

  Mrs O’Neill smiled. ‘I’ll look forward to it. Tell Teddy the car’s in need of a wash. I’ll pay him.’ She got into the car, beeped her horn and drove off.

  When Kitty told Annie what Mrs O’Neill had said about Charley, her cousin swore and expressed once again her determination to go to London if she was OK. Neither of them wanted to think what would have to be done if Annie was pregnant.

  The next few days were fraught. Knowing that Charley had not been caught, Kitty half-expected him to turn up despite Rebekah O’Neill’s words of assurance. When Saturday arrived and there was still no sign of him, she began to look forward to visiting the O’Neills, in the hope she would soon learn more about John McLeod.

  Chapter Seven

  ‘Where’s that bit of paper?’ asked Kitty.

  ‘What bit of paper?’ Mick glanced up from his homework to where his mother was standing by the sideboard.

  ‘The bit with Mrs O’Neill’s telephone number on it. She didn’t tell me her address and we’ve been invited to tea tomorrow.’

  ‘All of us?’ He rested on an elbow.

  ‘All of us.’

  He frowned. ‘Why are we going there, Ma? Is it because they’re friends of the big fella?’

  ‘I suppose it is.’ She looked under the runner on the sideboard, trying to ignore the edge to his voice. ‘As well as that I think it’s something to do with you being boys. She only has the one son and he’s a bit of a loner.’

  ‘How old is he?’

  ‘She didn’t say.’ Kitty lifted a vase but the paper wasn’t there and she leaned against the sideboard, feeling annoyed with herself for losing it. ‘We won’t be able to go if I can’t find that paper.’

  Mick hesitated. ‘Celia will probably know the address if you can’t find it.’

  ‘That’s good. You can go and ask her then, can’t you?’ She smiled at him.

  He pulled a face. ‘I don’t have to go right now, do I?’

  ‘No. Tomorrow morning’ll do. There was something else I wanted you to do for me today.’

  ‘What’s that?’ His voice was wary.

  Kitty went over and stood behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders. ‘You know how slack things are at the moment, love. I just wondered if you could go down the docks with the handcart like Jimmy used to and see if you can find some customers for us?’

  His heart sank because he really did not want to do it. There were some right toughies down at the docks and he was not a fighter by nature. Still, he was luckier than some. At least he was being given the chance to make something of himself. It had been his gran who had insisted he accept the scholarship and do something with his life. It was only after her death that his mother started going on about them all working in the hotel full time. He knew all hell would break loose once he told her he had no intention of doing what she said, but for now he was going to keep quiet and appear willing to do what she asked. He closed his book. ‘I suppose I could go if our Teddy’ll come with me.’

  ‘I’m sure he would.’ She was pleased he had not argued even as she worried about him going down to the docks. He was not a pushy boy, which could be a disadvantage in certain circumstances. She only hoped that what he lacked in boldness Teddy would make up for.

  The wheels of the cart rumbled over the cobbles past McIver’s shipbrokers and the Walker’s pub on the corner of Chapel Street and on under the overhead railway. As Mick came to the floating roadway where vehicles crowded in a line waiting to get on the luggage boat, he wished Teddy had stuck with him. His brother, though, had skipped off as they passed Fontenoy Street, saying he had a way of making money without him going down the Pier Head. Mick knew his mother would not be pleased by Teddy’s actions, especially if they had anything to do with the engineering works in Fontenoy Street where they reconditioned engines and made engine parts. It was where Teddy would like to work when he left school, although he had not told their mother that but was biding his time like Mick. He became aware of the slap of water against the wall on his left and breathed in that smell of the sea which was so much a part of every Merseysider’s existence. He came to Princes Parade and hurried in the direction of the customs and baggage sheds. Once through customs some people would catch a train at the Riverside station to destinations as far away as London and would see little of his Liverpool, but a fair number would be staying in the port for at least a few days. Pigeons flew up in front of him, only to land a few feet away, their tail feathers dragging and their heads bobbing. There seemed less of them than there use
d to be and he wondered if there was any truth in the tale Teddy had told him about men luring them to their doom and putting them in pies to sell.

  Mick glanced at some of the hungry-looking youths who hung around the waterfront, as ready to pick a pocket as to be paid to carry a bag, and his heart sank. He had no illusions about the task before him. It wasn’t going to be easy but at least it was a fine day and the choppy waters of the Mersey appeared navy blue instead of the familiar oily greeny-grey.

  There were several liners anchored in the river and the tenders were having a busy time. His spirits lifted. Maybe things were on the up at last and the lean times would soon be behind them. He lowered the handles of the handcart to the ground and eased his fingers as he gazed ahead. Already there were several men and youths confronting those coming out of the sheds weighed down by baggage. He took hold of the handles again and broke into a trot.

  Mick offered his services to several people. Some ignored him whilst others waved him away. Several times he was pushed aside by stronger and bigger males. He was starting to feel desperate when at last he managed to seize an opportunity by elbowing a smaller youth out of the way. ‘Carry your luggage, madam?’ he enquired of a dark-haired, olive-skinned woman wearing a peacock-blue coat and matching hat.

  The woman gazed at him through a haze of smoke and waved a cheroot in its holder in the air. She had handsome dark eyes. ‘That’s very generous of you, young man, but I am being met.’ She spoke with a foreign accent.

  Mick stifled his disappointment because he had considered she would have been good for a tip and moved away. Even as he did so he heard her speaking to someone. Then she called, ‘Young man! Young man, back here!’

  He turned to see that the woman had now been joined by a couple of men and another woman who was not so well dressed and much older. The woman in peacock-blue beckoned him.

  ‘You have an honest face, young man. Do you know of an hotel that would suit this woman here?’

  Mick could not believe his luck and said eagerly. ‘Yes, madam. A very good clean hotel with an excellent cook.’