Frankie's Manor

by Frankie's Manor (retail) (epub)

  ‘They ain’t in, you know. Did a flit about half an hour ago. Saw them meself, him and his wife, charging out of there like the place was on fire.’

  Suddenly apprehensive, Sally walked to where a scruffy-looking woman was standing on her doorstep.

  ‘You sure they was doing a runner? I mean, they might have just been in a hurry to get somewhere.’

  The woman laughed unpleasantly.

  ‘I know a flit when I see one. Loaded up a barrer they kept out the back and took off. Bloody good riddance an’ all. Why?’ she asked. ‘What’s it to do with you anyway? They friends of yours, were they? I ain’t never seen you round these parts before. Or was you looking for a bit of help in getting rid of something? If you know what I mean.’

  Sally’s face was grim. ‘Yeah, I know what you mean, but that’s not what I’m here for.’ She looked up and down the street warily. A few children were playing in the road outside open doorways, and now and then a voice could be heard raised in anger. A typical London back-street, nothing sinister here.

  She needed to know if Rose had been here – but could she trust this skinny woman, who was watching her with shrewd, sharp eyes?

  Sally moved closer. ‘Look, a mate of mine was supposed to come here this evening. Well… she ain’t exactly a mate, just someone I work with. But she’s only a kid, and I was worried about her, so I thought I’d make sure she was all right – know what I mean?’

  The neighbour replied, with a loud snort, ‘Oh, yeah, I know what you mean, all right, and I don’t hold with it. But I mind me own business and—’

  Impatiently Sally cut in, ‘Yeah, I’m sure you do, love. But did you see me mate come here? About an hour ago, it would have been. You couldn’t miss her. She’s young with a load of bright browny-red hair, all curls and—’

  ‘I saw her. That is, I saw her go in as I was nipping round to see me mum. I didn’t see her come out again.’

  At the growing alarm in Sally’s face, the woman softened. ‘Look, you can cut through my back yard into theirs, if that’s any help.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, thanks, love,’ Sally answered gratefully.

  Five minutes later, she was standing outside a grimy back window, her face pressed tight against the cool pane. Then she reeled back in horror. ‘Oh, my Gawd!’ she breathed. She couldn’t see any sign of Rose, but she could see the blood. It was everywhere. Up the walls, over the floor – everywhere.

  Frantically, now, Sally hammered on the back door, which immediately fell open almost sending her flying into the damp scullery. ‘Rose, Rosie, where are you? You silly little cow! Where are – Oooh… Rosie, oh, Gawd help us.’

  There, lying in a bloodied heap by a closed door, lay the young woman Sally had come to find. Heedless of the gore surrounding the inert body Sally dropped to her knees, her hands shaking. Rose’s face was as white as fresh-fallen snow.

  Behind her Sally heard someone come into the room. ‘Oh, shit! Is she dead? Oh, Gawd, I’m not staying here.’ The neighbour woman backed fearfully away from the awful sight, then screamed for her husband. ‘Quick, Bert, get the police. There’s been murder done next door! Hurry up, you lazy sod. Get your arse round to the nick, and fetch ’em back here sharpish!’

  Sally remained kneeling by Rose’s side, and surveyed the carnage surrounding her. It was all coming back. All those memories she’d tried to bury. All the heartache, the pain, the indescribable sense of loss. Like an avenging angel of doom, the walls of the small, bloody room closed in on her as she found herself transported back down the years to a time she had hoped never to face again. Sally felt her eyes dim as shadows from the past continued to assault her. Ten years ago, it had been. Ten years of silent suffering, of wondering…

  The commotion next door was getting louder as the frightened neighbour continued to berate the reluctant Bert to fetch the police. Galvanised into action by the din, Sally relinquished her hold on Rose’s limp hand and raced from the room, her feet slipping in a pool of blood. She burst into next door’s parlour. ‘Hang on! Don’t go getting the law involved – she ain’t dead. Look, you don’t want the coppers sniffing around here, d’yer? Besides, by the time they get here, the poor little cow probably will be dead. Look, you’ve got to help me!’ The man before her was dishevelled and bleary-eyed, had obviously just woken up. She begged him, ‘Please, could you help me get me mate over to the infirmary. She’s in a bad way. We’ve got to get her to a doctor, she—’

  The woman pushed Sally away roughly. ‘He ain’t going nowhere except to fetch the coppers. I feel sorry for the poor cow, but she ain’t nothing to do with us. We—’

  Desperate now, Sally cried, ‘You can’t just leave her lying there! ’Cos I’ll tell you this much for nothing. If she pegs out, it won’t be the coppers you’ll have to worry about. That girl in there is a relation of Frankie Buchannon’s, and if she dies, he’s gonna be round here wanting to know why no one did anything to help her. And I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes then.’

  Breathing raggedly Sally waited – but not for long. At the mention of Frankie’s name a change came over the couple. Sally saw the fear in their faces. But, uncertain that she was telling the truth, the man blustered, ‘Frankie Buchannon ain’t got no relations. Everyone round these parts knows that…Well, only that old girl what helped bring him up.’

  ‘Well, that’s where you’re wrong,’ Sally shouted. ‘That girl in there’s his niece,’ she lied. She didn’t have time to explain Rose’s relationship to Frankie and every minute that passed brought Rose closer to death. She must have been convincing, though, because the man’s expression changed suddenly to one of eager determination. He pushed aside his fretful wife and said, ‘Shut your gob, Bessie, and leave this to me,’ squared his shoulders and nodded at the hovering Sally. ‘Righto, miss. I’ll carry her to the infirmary. You just lead the way. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to Mr Buchannon’s niece, would we?’

  But his resolve faltered when he saw the bloody form lying in next door’s parlour. He would have turned tail and run if Frankie’s name hadn’t been mentioned – but it had and it had instilled in Bert a powerful incentive to push aside his misgivings and set to work. Averting his eyes from the splattered walls, he gently lifted the blood-soaked body, cradling it to his muscular chest. As easily as if his burden was a child, he carried Rose from the house, followed anxiously by Sally.

  News of the unfolding drama had quickly spread around the street, and when the trio stepped outside the front door they were met with a dozen curious pairs of eyes and many questions. Sally ignored them all, leaving the explanations to Bessie, who was now recovering from her fright and relishing her new-found importance.

  The odd trio made their way up Graham Road and into Homerton high street, attracting the attention of all they met. Fortunately, none of the passers-by were in uniform.

  When Rose was handed over to the medical staff at the infirmary, Sally mumbled her thanks to the man who had helped her and numbly followed the stretcher down a long, grey corridor.

  Behind her the burly man watched the corpse-like form disappear from view. He had done all he could and felt pleased with himself. There was no need to fear any reprisals from Frankie Buchannon for he, Bert Young, had done his best to help the unfortunate young woman. If she survived, maybe Frankie would come to thank him. The thought brought him a tremor of delight. Glad to be out of the grim building, Bert Young returned home – his good deed done, hopefully to be recognised and appreciated some time in the future.

  * * *

  It was several hours later before Sally was allowed in to see Rose. When she entered the ward and saw the still shape beneath crisp white starched sheets, her skin almost blending into them, a wealth of emotion engulfed her. She felt so tired, both physically and mentally. If there had been an empty bed in the ward she might have been tempted to climb into it, but she still had one more task to complete before she could go home. And that task filled her with more dread than the rest of the da
y’s events.

  She hadn’t expected Rose to be awake, and was surprised to find her so. Sally hauled out a small bench from under the bed and eased herself down on to it.

  Rose stared at her with glazed eyes, her lips trying to form questions, but she hadn’t enough strength.

  ‘It’s all right, mate.’ Sally said kindly, ‘Don’t worry about anything. I just wanted to make sure you was all right before I got off home.’

  Through parched lips, Rose whispered painfully, ‘Why did you come?’

  Sally looked into her eyes and answered tiredly, ‘It’s a long story, Rosie. Let’s just say I went through the same thing once. Only I had to do it on me own. It was a long time ago, but it’s not something you ever forget. Besides…’ she lifted her shoulders in resignation ‘…someone had to make sure you was all right. I’d have done the same for anybody.’

  Rose closed her eyes and Sally, thinking she had fallen asleep, was about to leave when Rose’s voice, barely audible, halted her once more. ‘Thanks, Sally. It was kind of you… That’s twice you’ve helped me today. Sally…’ Rose tried to moisten her dry lips, but the effort was too great. She was so tired. All she really wanted to do was sleep. Sleep for a very long time and wake up to find it had all been a terrible nightmare. But there was one more favour she had to ask of Sally. ‘Will you… go to see my aunt, please? Just tell… her I’m all right… and… I’ll be home tomorrow. Don’t let her know what’s happened, Sally… I don’t want her to know… Please, Sal…’

  Sally squirmed on the hard bench. ‘Yeah, it’s all right, mate. Look, you get some rest. I’ll make up some story to tell your aunt. Don’t worry, I’ll see to everything, you just get some kip.’

  Rose fought valiantly to remain conscious. There was something else she had to say, something important. She summoned all of her rapidly dwindling strength and murmured fretfully, ‘Get Frank for me, Sally. I want Frank here. I need him. He’ll take care of everything. Tell Frank, Sally, tell Frank I need him…’

  Awkwardly patting the cold hand lying outside the sheet, Sally nodded wearily, ‘I was gonna get him anyway, Rosie.’ but Rose had fallen back into a drugged sleep.

  Feeling like an old woman, Sally left the ward, avoiding any official figure who might start asking questions.

  Once outside the grim walls she took lungfuls of the crisp night air, trying to clear her nostrils of the sickly hospital smells. Sighting a cab she hailed it. It was a luxury she seldom availed herself of, but at the moment she felt she deserved a little pampering.

  Resting her head against the upholstered seat, Sally rehearsed what she was going to say to Frankie.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As she did not know her former lover’s new address, Sally ordered the cabby to take her to the Red Lion. On the short journey, she tried to order her thoughts. First of all, she’d have a couple of drinks to fortify herself, then go round to Mary Miller’s and spin some kind of story to stop the old girl worrying when Rose didn’t come home tonight. While she was there, she would try and wangle Frankie’s address out of her – though from what she’d heard of Mary Miller, she wasn’t going to be easy to hoodwink. Sally knew that if her plan failed, she’d have no choice but to tell the truth and let Mary sort things out with Frankie. Maybe, even, that would be the best for everyone concerned. She’d done her good deed for the day and now it was up to Rose’s family to see her safely through her ordeal.

  As the cab came to a halt outside the pub, a loud, rough voice told the driver to wait. Sally recognised Frankie’s voice and her stomach lurched at the prospect of facing him with the news about Rose. Sally paid the driver and stepped onto the pavement, then turned to face the tall, dark-haired man coming towards her.

  ‘Business must be good these days, Sally. I’d have thought you’d have had to drop your prices by now – after all, you’re getting on a bit, ain’t you?’ Frankie loomed over her, his lips curved in a sneering grin. The two men with him laughed at their governor’s malicious jibe.

  The callous words, along with his look of distaste, brought Sally’s head up with a painful jerk. ‘You bastard,’ she spat, tears of frustration stinging the backs of her eyes. After all she’d been through, these last few hours, his unjustified vituperative attack was the final straw.

  Frank laughed nastily as he shouldered her out of his way. ‘You should know better by now than to get on the wrong side of me, Sal, but I’ll let it go this time. I’ve got more important things to think about than a slag like you.’

  Sally’s eyes were cold and bleak. ‘Like your precious Rose, I suppose.’

  Frankie paused, one foot on the cab’s step, and looked at her contemptuously. ‘Yeah, my Rose. She’s worth a thousand of your sort, and you tried to drag her down to the gutter with you. Did she borrow those clothes off of you, Sal? They looked like the type you’d wear. A tart’s clothes. Well, I’ve been back to sort Henry out and now I’m telling you. Rose won’t be back, she—’

  Quivering with fatigue and anger Sally shouted, ‘You don’t own her, Frankie, and she ain’t the sort to be ordered about – and she ain’t as innocent as you’d like to think neither.’

  Frankie’s lips tightened into a grim line. ‘Don’t push your luck with me, Sal, I’m warning you. And don’t judge every woman by your own cheap standards. The only reason Rose got herself tar ted up was to earn a few extra bob, ’cos she was too proud to ask me for help. But she won’t be doing it again. Now get out of me way or else…’

  Her eyes glittering dangerously, Sally moved a step nearer, then, her voice low, her words deliberate, she said slowly, ‘And d’yer know why she needed a few extra bob, Frankie? Well, I’ll give you a clue, shall I? It was the same reason I had to start showing me wares to get some money quickly. I didn’t have any other choice at the time, d’yer remember? The only difference between me and Rosie is, I wasn’t too proud to ask you for help, but you didn’t want to know.’

  Frankie stared down at her unblinking, awareness growing on his set face.

  Sally uttered a shrill cry of triumph. ‘You remembering now, Frankie? All coming back to you, is it? I was barely a kid meself at the time, but you always did like ’em young, didn’t you? Oh, you were so charming, so full of yourself, and I fell for the oldest line in the book, didn’t I? You was gonna take care of me, weren’t you, Frankie? Gonna show me the world, you said. But all I ever saw was the inside of a back room where some old quack tore me insides out and left me to bleed to death. And I would’ve an’ all, if some busybody in the street hadn’t called the coppers.’

  All the time she was talking, Frankie’s handsome face might have been carved out of stone for all the emotion he showed. But Sally knew that her words were hitting home, knew without doubt that he had understood where they were leading, and the knowledge that she was hurting him spurred her on. Ignoring the danger in which she was placing herself, she continued to taunt him, out of control now. ‘The penny dropped yet, Frankie? Well, I’ll spell it out for you, shall I, Mr Lord of the bleeding Manor? Your precious Rosie went and got herself knocked up. But that ain’t all we’ve got in common, ’cos her bastard of a bloke ran out on her the same as mine did. So how d’yer like that for poetic justice? Oh, I picked that bit of talk up from Rosie. Posh, ain’t it? She was always one to talk posh, was our Rosie—’

  Her words ceased as an iron hand closed around her neck. She could smell whisky on Frankie’s breath as he hissed viciously, ‘Shut your lying, stinking mouth, you little whore, or I swear I’ll shut it for you permanently.’

  ‘Guv! Guv! Give over, there’s people watching,’ Fred Green pulled at the furious man’s arm. ‘Come on, Guv, you can’t believe anything she says. She’s just trying to wind you up. Leave her go, Guv, she ain’t worth getting nicked for.’

  Slowly Frankie released her, his eyes murderous. He flung Sally away from him and stepped back, his fists hanging by his sides.

  All her bravado gone, Sally clutched at her bruised throat, her
breath coming in short, painful bursts. Knowing she had gone too far, she was seized by an urgent desire to run, to get away from the grim figure glaring down at her with loathing. But she had promised Rose she would get Frankie to her, and whatever else she did or didn’t do, she always kept her word. She swallowed painfully and croaked, ‘I’m telling the truth. I didn’t know what she was up to, I’d be the last person she’d tell. But when I found out, I went looking for her. And it’s a good job I did, ’cos the bloke she went to was as bad as the one I had. If I hadn’t of turned up when I did… Look, Frankie. This ain’t got nothing to do with me. I’ve done my bit. But she asked me to get you, and I have. She’s in the Hackney Infirmary, and she’s bad, Frankie, she’s really bad. I don’t know if she’s gonna make it. All she kept saying was to get you and to tell her aunt she wouldn’t be home tonight.’ A dry sob caught in Sally’s throat, and she cried bleakly, ‘Won’t be home tonight. Gawd Almighty! She’ll be lucky if she ever comes home!’

  She felt herself sway, but no hand came out to steady her. When her head cleared she was on her own. Sobbing quietly Sally trudged to the pub. She needed a drink. But when she tried to push open the doors they remained shut. Puzzled, she pushed harder.

  Then Frankie’s words came back to her. ‘I’ve sorted Henry out.’ A new wave of fear swept through her fevered brain. Hammering on the heavy doors she screamed wildly, ‘Henry… Henry, open the door! It’s me, Sal! You all right in there? Henry!… Reet! You there, Reet? Henry… Henry… !’

  * * *

  It was nearly three in the morning before Rose became fully conscious. When she turned her head to one side, there, slumped in an old wicker bath-chair, sat Frankie, his normally immaculate appearance rumpled, his perfectly groomed black hair sticking up on end. She kept still, her face buried in a pillow. Her eyes filled with tears as the memory of why she was here came flooding back.