by Anne Bennett
Bile filled Deirdre’s mouth and then her scrabbling fingers felt a half-brick. Not knowing if it would do any good, she lifted it and hit out. Barney was unprepared for the clout on the side of his head, which dazed him for a split second. ‘You little bastard. I’ll…‘
He didn’t finish the sentence. Deirdre, frantic now—for she knew if she allowed Barney to recover from this, it would be the worse for her—lashed out again. She heard the crack as the brick connected with his head and she followed it with another thump.
Barney, groggy and disorientated, felt blood seeping down his cheek. He knew he had to get to his feet, but as he tried, Deirdre struck out again. This time the brick struck his forehead, right between the eyes. Barney, in a semi-kneeling position, his arms folded in front of him to protect his face, began to sway. The next smack caused him to fall across Deirdre with a groan.
Using all her strength, Deirdre rolled Barney off. When she felt him twitch and heard him moan slightly, she really laid into him. She knew she had to kill him. It wouldn’t be enough to injure him, for then he would come after her. She lashed out, battering him over and over, as if a kind of madness had taken her over, until she was panting with the exertion of it. She felt sweat dampen her armpits and trickle down her back. By then, every sound and every movement from Barney had ceased.
She flung the brick away from her harder that she had ever thrown anything in her life—as if she couldn’t bear to be in contact with it any more and wanted it to be as far away from her as possible. Then suddenly overcome with nausea, she vomited into the mud. She wiped her hands, sticky with blood, on a bit of scrubby grass she’d felt as she bent over to be sick. She fastened up her clothes with hands that shook, and though she had an urgent need to get away from Barney’s inert body, it was hard to hurry across that rubble-strewn ground in the pitch-black.
Though she knew Barney lay still on the ground, any minute she expected to feel his hand on her collar, dragging her back, and tears once more began to rain down her cheeks.
He was dead, she told herself. Surely she had killed him, and she was not the tiniest bit sorry. Barney could never terrorise or bully anyone any more. Now she could tell her father everything and he wouldn’t get into any trouble.
And then the horror of what she had done began to kick in. She had killed a man, taken a life, and they hanged murderers. She couldn’t go home, but she had nowhere else to go, and she just walked aimlessly, in despair, wondering what on earth she was going to do about the heinous crime she had committed.
Eventually, despite her thick coat, the cold, mixed with shock, caused her teeth to chatter and her head to swim. When she felt herself lurching from one side of the pavement to the other she knew she had to make for home; there was nothing else she could think to do. She had almost reached the gate when a fog of blackness descended all around her and she collapsed in a heap on the pavement.
Sean had not long returned from the town, for when he and Paul had returned to the house after the concert, it was to find that Maria had worsened, and Sean had been concerned enough to go again for the doctor. He too had been worried and had left a prescription to be made up immediately. The only all night chemist was Boots, in the town, and Sean had gone straight off.
When he returned he had expected Deirdre in the house, maybe even in bed, for it had been turned halfpast eleven, but on finding she wasn’t home he decided to fetch her himself. He tripped over her unconscious form just outside the gate. He gave a cry of alarm and, picking her up in his arms, he carried her into the house, shouting for Martha.
‘Almighty God, what’s happened to her?’ Martha cried.
‘That is exactly what I want to know,’ Sean said grimly. ‘That woman gave me her word that she would bring Deirdre home safely. God, she will have some explaining to do when I catch up with her.’
‘That will have to wait,’ Martha said impatiently. ‘Leave her on the bed, fill two hot water bottles and send our Paul for the doctor. Poor man, he’s hardly away from this door this evening.’
Deirdre didn’t stir as Martha took off her things, puzzled by the mud and fifth on the back of her coat and thoroughly upset by the rips in her black stockings and the deep score lines all the way down her legs. Sean had laid her on her back, and Martha didn’t attempt to move her, but just eased the top clothes from under her, leaving her petticoats on and so didn’t see the bruises and grazes on her back. But she did see the vivid, vicious bruise on her arm and the other one on her face.
The doctor examined her gently and was perplexed. ‘She has had a fall, at the very least, I should say, for she has a nasty bump on the back of her head, but I am pleased to say there is no evidence of sexual interference.’
Martha hadn’t been aware that she had been holding her breath, but now it escaped in a sigh of relief and Sean’s did the same. ‘Thank God for that,’ he said. ‘But what do you think happened to her?’
‘It’s hard to say accurately,’ the doctor said. ‘I think I must take a look at her back.’
Sean helped lift her over very gently and, though Deirdre’s eyes remained shut, she gave a small moan. The doctor pulled up her petticoats and vest, and he whistled when he saw Deirdre’s back and buttocks covered with grazes, bruises and weals.
‘I would say she has had a very bad fall,’ he said.
‘She was only supposed to walk from the abbey hall home,’ Sean said. ‘So how could she fall? You don’t think she was attacked?’
‘She could have been, but there is no evidence of an attack, as such.’
‘That woman Bellingham gave me her word she would bring her home safe, that’s what I can’t get over,’ Sean said. ‘First thing tomorrow I am paying her a visit and see what she has to say about it.’
‘I understand that,’ the doctor said. ‘I’d feel the same—any parent would—and maybe this woman can shed some light on this whole episode. Of course, Deirdre will probably be able to answer these questions for you when she does wake up.’
‘When d’you think that will be, Doctor?’ Martha asked. ‘It’s terrible to see her lying there so still.’
‘She moaned when we lifted her over so I’m sure it is just a light coma,’ the doctor said reassuringly. ‘But, of course, any head injury can be tricky and she will need absolute peace and quiet when she does wake up.’
‘I’ll see she gets it, Doctor.’
‘I’m sure you will,’ the doctor said. ‘And let’s hope she is not incubating measles, for that is a complication we can do without.’ He looked from Maria to Sean. ‘You two are surely having a time of it. Did you get the medication for Maria, Sean?’
‘Aye, Doctor. I went to Boots in the town and had it made up straight away. Martha gave her a dose before she settled down for the night and she said her chest and all was easier. Maybe you’ll see that yourself.’
‘More than likely,’ the doctor said. ‘But I’ll not disturb her now. I will see them all in the morning when I come to check on Deirdre.’
Deirdre’s eyes flickered open and she slowly turned her head from side to side. Then, with her troubled eyes full of confusion, she said, ‘How did I get here?’
Sean, who’d taken the day off work till he was sure Deirdre was all right and he’d seen Mrs Bellingham, had been sitting with her while Martha got breakfast for the others and was delighted to see her eyes open at last. He approached the bed and said gently, ‘We thought you might be able to tell us that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What do you remember of last night?’
Deirdre thought, her brow furrowed in concentration. ‘I remember the concert,’ she said at last slowly. ‘And I remember the party afterwards and standing in the doorway, and the teacher saying she was going to take me home and then…then nothing till I woke up here.’
‘Are you sure there is nothing more you can tell me?’
Deirdre shook her head. ‘It’s just like a big black hole.’
‘Don’t press he
r,’ Martha warned, when Sean went downstairs with the news. ‘You know what the doctor said. We’ll get to the bottom of it in time, and I must say I am glad that she has woken up at last. I’ll go up in a minute to see if she will have a bit of breakfast and you best be off to see that teacher, and if she can tell you any more.’
‘Aye,’ Sean said.
Less than ten minutes later he was pounding on the woman’s door.
‘You won’t get any joy there,’ said the next-door neighbour, hearing the commotion. ‘Her’s away to her sister’s for the New Year, like. Left real early this morning.’
Sean sighed in frustration. ‘I don’t suppose you have an address?’
The woman shook her head. ‘All I know is, her lives Bournville way. Lovely out there, by all accounts.’
There was no alternative for Sean but to return home. He felt utterly miserable and helpless, and hoped in time Deirdre would be able to clear up the mystery of how she came to be lying unconscious in the street outside the house.
Knowing the heavy load Martha had, Sean took the next day off too. That afternoon, when Deirdre had still been able to tell them nothing, he said, ‘Maybe we should go to the police and let them handle it.’
‘And tell them what exactly?’ Martha said. ‘The doctor really doesn’t seem to think any other person was involved, so there is no crime being committed. Perhaps we should be patient and listen to what Mrs Bellingham has to say when she comes home.’
‘Anything might have happened to Deirdre,’ Sean snapped. ‘What if I hadn’t gone out when I did, for example?’
Martha put her hand over his. ‘Darling, I know how worried you are,’ she said soothingly. ‘If I tell the truth, I am myself, but thank God nothing worse happened to her. I am sure when she is recovered properly her memory and all will return. The point is, Deirdre might get upset if we come down all heavy before even talking to Mrs Bellingham, and that is the last thing we want. Let’s wait a wee while longer.’
Sean sighed. ‘It’s the not being able to do anything that gets to you,’ he said. ‘And I can’t afford to lose time like this. I will really have to go back tomorrow, though I’ll be officially off again on Friday, with it being New Year’s Day. How will you cope with all this on your own?’
‘I’ll be fine,’ Martha assured him. ‘Anyway, Patsy is coming home.’
‘Is she?’ Sean said. ‘But I thought she was intending to stay to see the New Year in with Andrew’s parents?’
‘She was,’ Martha said. ‘It wasn’t anything to do with me, but Paul and Tony discussed it and thought Patsy would like to know about Maria coming down with measles and this latest incident with Deirdre. Paul apparently knew Andrew’s parents’ phone number and he rang them from a public phone box and the upshot of it all was that Patsy is coming back as soon as the trains allow.’
‘A phone is a very handy thing to have in a house,’ Sean said. ‘I’ve thought it this long while. Maybe in the spring I’ll see about us having one in.’
‘Oh, Sean. That would be wonderful.’
‘Wouldn’t it?’ Sean said. ‘Look how useful it has been in this instance, and I can go to work easier in my mind, knowing Patsy will be here to lend you a hand.’
However, Patsy hadn’t returned by the evening and, with the meal over, Martha sat feeding the baby, with Sean, as he was wont to do, reading snippets out of the paper, when there was a knock at the door.
‘That will be Patsy,’ Martha said. ‘I bet she can’t find her key again.’
Tony was out on a date, Paul in his room and Sean in his stocking feet, so Martha passed him the baby and almost ran down the hall to open the door, knowing she’d be immensely glad of Patsy’s help.
But it wasn’t Patsy and Andrew. It was two policemen. She knew that from the badges they showed her, though there were in plain clothes and they asked to speak to a Mr Sean Tierney.
By the time Patsy did make it home, just over an hour later, Martha was still crying. She thought she’d never stop. Paul thought so too, and though he had been weepy himself he’d never felt so inadequate. He had tried putting his arms around his mother and made her more than one cup of tea, but she continued to cry and when little Martin joined it, Paul saw from the bottle on the mantelpiece that the child had been only half fed.
At least, he thought, that was something he could do. So he fed the baby the rest of the bottle and even changed his nappy for the first time, very grateful it was merely wet. He had just put the drowsy baby into the pram where he slept until Martha would take him to bed, as she had since Maria took sick, when he heard the key in the lock. He ran to meet his sister, so thankful she was there at last.
‘God, I’m glad you’re here,’ he said. ‘Come and see if you can do something with Mom. She’s cried for hours.’
Patsy had got a very garbled message from Paul about Deirdre, for the boy knew little more anyway, and now she grabbed his arm, ‘Why is she crying? Has something happened to Deirdre?’
‘Not Deirdre,’ Paul said. ‘It’s Dad. The police have arrested him.’
He wasn’t arrested, but he was helping with their inquiries into the murder of Barney McPhearson, which had happened the previous evening. Patsy, even though the news about Sean was worrying, felt a lightening in her heart, knowing that Barney was dead
‘Where was his body found? she asked.
‘Nocks Brickworks,’ Martha said. ‘There’s some waste ground this side of the quarry and it was there.’
Patsy felt as if justice had been done. The bloody great pervert had met his match at last. Every time she remembered what he had done to her, her skin would crawl and she often would push Andrew away when, during any intimacy, it would all come flooding back to her. God, she would have killed the man herself, given the slightest opportunity, and not felt a whit sorry about it.
As for this business with her stepfather, she was sure that it would soon be cleared up. ‘What did they want with Dad anyway?’ she asked. ‘They can’t really think he had anything to do with this.’
However, Martha’s reply thoroughly disturbed Patsy. ‘Many heard Sean threaten what he would do to Barney. He said he’d swing for him more than once.’
‘That’s just something you say in the heat of the moment,’ Patsy said. ‘Surely, Mom, you don’t think—’
‘Of course I don’t,’ Martha snapped. ‘What do you take me for? Sean has given me his word he had nothing to do with it and that is good enough for me, but what I think or believe doesn’t matter a jot to the police. The point is, though I know there was little love lost between Sean and Barney, if he was going to attack the man, he wouldn’t do it this way.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘This was a frenzied attack,’ Martha said. ‘Those were the exact words the policeman used. Someone had smashed Barney’s skull in, they think with a brick or something very similar, and not just the once, but many times. Sean would hit no man with a brick, he’d just use his hands and Sean told them that himself, for all the good it did.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
By the night of 29 December, the police had witnesses that Sean had attacked Barney before and in fact had had to be restrained from finishing him off then. Most of the men from the Black Swan, who had been privy to the fight, had come forward once the victim had been identified and his name printed in the Evening Mail, as it had been that evening.
They’d said nothing earlier, for a fight was just a fight, but murder was another matter and not something they wanted to get into trouble about for withholding information, or some such. So they overcame the usual reticence they had towards the police and told them what they had heard and seen.
Some of them told what Sean had done reluctantly, even said maybe the man had cause and that he seemed a decent sort of bloke. But the police ignored that. They had a man in the frame that had committed the murder that would wrap it up nicely. As the inspector said, the nicest man in the world could turn killer, given the right motive and
the opportunity.
Sean had certainly had the opportunity. By his own admission, he had left the house and gone into the town for medicine. The police suggested he’d come across Barney McPhearson on his journey there or back and decided to finish what he’d started. He denied it, of course, but then he would, wouldn’t he? They gathered further evidence against him.
George from the Norton pub and some of the regulars were also questioned, and his workmates at the Dunlop who, when prompted, spoke of Sean’s hatred for Barney for the way he treated his wife and the money he gambled and drank away that meant his wife and children often went without.
Some of the men from the Black Swan had spoken of the young fellow with Sean Tierney that night, a well-set-up, finely dressed young man, who told them it was family business, as if they were related in some way. So when Andrew went to the police station on the morning of the thirtieth, when Sean hadn’t returned home and they had had no news, he found himself hauled in for questioning too. He noted the way the questions were loaded and knew they had already decided on Sean’s guilt and he left the police station later with a heavy heart. He knew just how bleak the situation looked for him.
He wasn’t even surprised therefore when Sean was charged with the murder of Barney McPhearson on 31 December, yet shock waves reverberated around the rest of the family. Patsy, though bowed down with sorrow and worry herself, thought Maria ought to be told before she found out some other way.
As Maria now shared her bedroom with Sally and Theresa, Patsy carried the two girls down the stairs first and tucked them both up on the settee before the fire, so that they could sit with Martha for Watch with Mother while Patsy broke the news to Maria.
The tears Maria shed, though, were for her uncle, for whom she felt immensely sorry. The knowledge that her husband was dead evoked only a feeling of relief in her and she didn’t care how wicked that was. Patsy told her that Sean had given her his word that he had had no hand in Barney’s death.
