by June Francis
‘Not me, Mum! You’ve done that all by yourself,’ said Dorothy, suddenly pitying her. ‘I’m going upstairs to change. I’ll have my dinner later.’
Once she was alone, Elsie sat, staring into the fire. Could what Dorothy had hinted at about Teddy be true? No, no! He might have his faults, but surely he wasn’t a child molester? But what was she thinking? Betty was no child but a young woman who would be seventeen in November. She could have been testing her feminine wiles on him. Men could be so weak. Her head began to ache. God! She was beginning to accept that her daughter could be right about Teddy getting Betty pregnant. What was she going to do about it? Confront Teddy? She could imagine him going right through the roof and then lashing out at her for suggesting such a thing. But it was possible that Dorothy was mistaken and was protecting one of those young men at that Eyetie’s house. Maybe Teddy had just hit Betty for giving cheek and that was why she was scared of him? Elsie knew her husband could be violent on occasions. She had never told anyone about him hitting her when he’d been drinking and she’d refused to give him his marital rights. It was much too personal. What should she do? Keep quiet or bring the subject up that night when they went to bed? He might bluff it out, even if he was guilty. If it was true, then she wanted nothing to do with him. Yet she had married him for better, for worse. She had made promises. Her head was aching unbearably. God, she’d been a fool marrying him. He could have just lived with them. She’d thought of that at first but then reasoned that the neighbours would talk.
Elsie finished her cigarette and went upstairs. She stood on a chair to reach the shelf where she kept the box with all her important papers inside, as well as old photographs and suchlike. She lifted it out and sat on the bed with it and rooted through the contents. Her brow puckered as she realised that the photographs of her sister and William Booth were missing.
She could feel her heart thudding uncomfortably in her chest. Someone had been through her things and taken them. How thoroughly had they looked at the letters and documents here? She could only think that it was Betty who would have taken the photographs, but when had she done so? She might have found Lizzie’s letters and the deeds to the house and she could have read them. It could perhaps be another reason why she’d gone off to her sister.
At that moment she heard the front door open, and recognising Teddy’s tread, she swiftly placed everything back in the box and returned it to its place. She hurried downstairs before he could shout for her. As she reached the living room she made up her mind what she was going to do.
Teddy wasn’t alone in the kitchen because Dorothy was there, eating her dinner at the table. ‘Any news?’ he asked, turning to face his wife as she entered the room.
‘Yes.’ Elsie glanced at Dorothy. ‘She’s gone to some friend’s house but she hasn’t given an address. Just sent a message saying that she’s safe.’
‘What friend?’ said Teddy, his hand clenching and unclenching on the back of his niece’s chair. ‘Do you know, Dorothy?’
‘Why should I know?’ she replied, pulling away from his hands.
‘Did the message say why she’s gone?’ he asked.
‘You know as much as I do,’ replied Dorothy, reaching for her cup and taking a sip of tea.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ he snapped, flicking her head with a finger.
She shot up and glared at him. ‘Don’t touch me!’
His mouth worked and spittle appeared at the corners. ‘I scarcely touched you. Don’t you dare speak to me in that tone or you’ll feel the back of my hand.’
‘Shall we let this drop?’ said Elsie hurriedly. ‘We know Betty’s all right, and no doubt sooner or later we’ll hear from her again.’
‘But what about school?’ said Teddy, staring at her. ‘You’re responsible for her, Elsie. You’ve got to get her back.’
‘You said we were best rid of her this morning,’ said Elsie. ‘That she was no good.’
‘Yeah, but she’s your niece, isn’t she?’ he said, shifting his gaze. ‘You’ve got to keep an eye on her. What will people say if they find out she’s gone off to stay with friends after not being well?’
‘I’d say it’s none of their business,’ said Dorothy, getting up and placing her dirty plate and cutlery in the sink. ‘But if you have to say something, you could tell them she’s had a relapse and is convalescing.’
‘Now, that’s a good idea,’ said Elsie, seizing on it. ‘I’ll send a note into school, saying just that.’
It was the following evening that Maggie handed a letter to Dorothy that Irene had passed on to her. She had waited until her sister had gone upstairs to her bedroom and followed her. ‘I think it’s from Emma,’ she said. ‘I was tempted to open it, but I thought you’d tell me what she’s written anyway.’
‘Of course I will,’ said Dorothy, slitting open the envelope with a finger and taking out the single sheet inside.
Dear Dorothy,
I do hope you received my message from Dougie but if you haven’t I will ease your mind now by telling you that Betty is safe with me. Would you believe she set off to find me by walking along the Leeds-Liverpool canal. Fortunately she encountered a very nice elderly couple who took her under their wing and saw to it that she was delivered safely to Honeysuckle Cottage.
I was shocked to discover that her reason for running away was because your uncle had been hitting her. When I asked why she hadn’t told your mother about this, she seemed convinced that she would not believe her. No doubt you’d know if this is true or not. I did question why she did not speak of it to you but she seemed convinced that your mother wouldn’t believe you either, because she knows that neither of you like him. I do feel that Betty is keeping something back from me and maybe you can throw a light on what’s been happening at your house.
I plan to keep her here as long as she wishes to stay, although we’re both concerned about her exams. Have you any ideas about what we should do? I will leave it to you to decide whether you tell your mother about Betty’s accusations against your uncle. Do feel that you can come and visit us here at any time.
Love, Emma
‘The swine,’ muttered Dorothy, folding the letter.
‘Can I read it now?’ said Maggie.
‘Of course!’ Dorothy handed it to her sister and watched as she read it.
‘Why did Uncle Teddy hit Betty?’ asked Maggie.
‘I think he probably more than hit her,’ said Dorothy, plucking the letter from her sister’s fingers. ‘What do you know about where babies come from?’
Maggie stared at her and her eyes slowly widened. ‘No! Our Betty wasn’t having a baby, was she?’
‘Gosh, you are bloody quick on the uptake,’ said Dorothy. ‘Mum’s blaming one of the lads who go to the Gianellis’ musical evenings, but I’ve told her that I don’t believe it. Betty wasn’t saying anything.’
Maggie sat on the bed and nibbled on a finger. ‘I’m glad you’re not going to tell me that storks really do bring babies or that they’re found under gooseberry bushes.’
‘Don’t be daft. It takes a male and a female of the species to—’ Dorothy shuddered. ‘When I think maybe him and our Betty.’
‘Don’t!’ Maggie gulped. ‘It is so wrong!’
‘Yes,’ said Dorothy, fiddling with the letter. ‘You must never let Uncle Teddy touch you there!’ She pointed and wondered if she needed to name bodily parts.
‘Say no more!’ Maggie twisted her hands together. ‘I feel embarrassed saying this, but haven’t you ever played doctors and nurses and been a patient?’
‘What!’
Maggie’s face went red. ‘I wish I hadn’t started telling you this now, but a group of us kids did during a school summer holiday one year. We were only about seven or eight. Us girls were curious and so were the boys. We knew it was naughty but there was really no harm in it. One of the girls’ mothers had had about ten children and she peered round the door when her mother was giving birth and saw where
babies came from. She acted out what happened. Blinking heck, did she scream!’
Suddenly Dorothy found herself struggling to keep her face straight. ‘I don’t suppose you played mothers and fathers, too?’
‘No, the boys didn’t want to kiss us,’ said Maggie.
Dorothy couldn’t help it and burst out laughing.
Maggie looked relieved. ‘Of course, since then one or two of the boys have wanted to kiss me during a game of “Catch the girl, kiss the girl!” in the park, but I’m not as ignorant as Mum thinks and know that a kiss is as far as it must go until I’m married.’
‘When you can cuddle,’ said Dorothy, controlling her mirth and giving Maggie a hug. ‘But what we’ve talked about does have its serious side.’
Maggie nodded and said soberly, ‘I know. I just wish our Jared was here.’
‘Yes. He’d deal with Uncle Teddy.’ Dorothy sighed. ‘I can’t even write to him about this. He’s got enough to worry about fighting the Commies.’
Maggie agreed. ‘You know what Emma doesn’t mention, and that’s our Betty’s clothes and possessions.’
‘That’s true,’ murmured Dorothy. ‘I’ll send them to her. If what I suspect is right, then she’s best staying with Emma.’
Maggie heaved a sigh. ‘Something should be done. Do you think Mum—?’
‘No! I think she’s scared of him.’
‘I’m going to miss Betty. She won’t be at the coronation party, will she? Irene will miss her, too. I suppose she’ll make new friends up there if she stays, won’t she?’
‘I suppose she will,’ said Dorothy softly, ‘but it’s not certain that she will stay. Anyway, we’re still her cousins and can write to her. Maybe she’ll eventually feel able to talk to us about what happened. Perhaps I should tell Emma my suspicions and see if she can get Betty to confide in her. That’s if she hasn’t already done so. We can go and visit them. In the meantime, don’t forget what I’ve told you and make sure you’re never alone with Uncle Teddy.’
‘Y-you really believe he is responsible for Betty having been …?’
Dorothy nodded, reminding her about their cousin having been alone in the house with their uncle on New Year’s Eve. ‘Remember Mum thinking he was just being spiteful in bolting the doors? I think he did it for another reason.’
Maggie clutched her stomach. ‘I think I’m going to be sick.’
‘No, you’re not! Deep breaths,’ said Dorothy, hurrying over to her sister. ‘We mustn’t let him get to us, so that we feel we have to leave this house. Now, I need you to help me pack Betty’s things.’
Maggie took several deep breaths.
‘Slowly,’ said Dorothy. ‘You don’t want to hyperventilate.’
Maggie nodded. ‘I’d like someone to cut it off him.’
Dorothy smiled grimly. ‘I feel exactly the same, but stop thinking about him now. What do you think we should pack, apart from her clothes?’
‘Her school exercise books, so she can revise. Maybe Emma will be able to arrange for her to do her exams up there.’
Dorothy nodded, and without further delay they went into Betty’s bedroom and set about packing those of her possessions they considered essential for her needs.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Betty finished feeding the hens and then went and sat on a chair at one of the tables now placed in the garden. Emma had told Betty that she had managed to sell some of her grandmother’s pottery to a second-hand shop, and with the money and some that she had saved, had bought a few second-hand folding chairs and a couple of card tables.
‘What d’you think Dorothy is doing now? What did you say to her in your letter?’ Betty called to her sister.
Emma shook the soil from the roots of a young lettuce. ‘I told her your uncle had hit you and that you were staying with me for the foreseeable future. I said that she was welcome to visit us here any time. I left it to her to decide whether to tell your aunt or not. I also asked her what she thought we should do about your schooling.’
Betty’s shoulders sagged. ‘I’m worried about my exams. I really do want to get some decent qualifications and attend art school, even if I have to get a job and attend night school. I so wanted Mum and Dad to be proud of me if they’d been alive.’ Her eyes filled with tears and hastily she wiped them away on her sleeve.
Emma’s brown eyes were filled with concern. ‘Don’t you worry. You’ll get there. I’ll write to the headmistress at your grammar school and explain the situation.’
‘But she might think I deserve punishment for running away. Aunt Elsie will be furious and so will she!’
‘I’m not concerned about them. It’s you I’m worried about,’ said Emma. ‘Anyway, I’ll give it some thought and maybe the headmistress will be able to suggest a hostel where we can stay in Liverpool whilst you sit your exams.’
‘But it would still cost money and I need to be revising now.’ Betty groaned and put her head in her hands. ‘I should have thought before running away the way I did but I was in a panic. It’s going to be extra expense for you having me here and for us to stay in Liverpool and I don’t want to be a burden on you.’
Not for one moment was Emma going to let her sister start worrying about being a burden. ‘Don’t be daft. I’m glad to have you here,’ she said, patting her shoulder. ‘I’m sure you’re going to be of help to me.’
The words were scarcely out of her mouth when the knocker sounded. Betty lifted her head. ‘Will I go and see who it is? It won’t be him, will it?’
‘I doubt it,’ said Emma, feeling a pang of pity. ‘It could be a customer.’
But it was the postman and he had a parcel for them. When Betty felt it and saw the postmark, she had a pretty good idea of its contents. Her spirits lifted. After thanking the postman, she hurried inside to find Emma in the kitchen, washing the lettuce. She had already put eggs in a pan to boil.
‘I think my clothes and possibly some books and other personal belongings are in here,’ said Betty.
She was right, in part, and sighed with relief when she saw her exercise books. ‘I’ll be able to revise, but they haven’t packed the Winnie the Witch doll you gave me. There are two envelopes here, though.’
‘I can make you another doll,’ said Emma.
Betty smiled. ‘Thanks. One envelope is addressed to you and the other is for me. Mine looks as if it’s from Maggie. I recognise her handwriting.’ She unsealed the envelope.
‘And mine’s from Dorothy,’ said Emma, placing the letter in the pocket of her pinny.
‘Aren’t you going to read it now?’ asked Betty, glancing up at her.
‘No. I need to watch the eggs and make the sandwiches. I’ll read it later, but you can tell me what Maggie has to say if you want.’
Betty sat down and spread the sheet of paper on the table. ‘It’s not very long and it’s a bit of a scribble.’ She fell silent, trying to decipher her cousin’s handwriting. ‘I think Maggie’s trying to tell me that she’s going to miss me and so is Irene and that they’ll try and come and see us during the summer holidays,’ murmured Betty. ‘She also says that Dorothy called Uncle Teddy a swine for hitting me.’
Emma glanced at her sister and saw that tiny nerve twitching beneath her left eye. ‘And so he is, but you mustn’t get yourself worked up about him. He’s not going to hurt you ever again.’
‘He’s not very big, you know,’ whispered Betty, looking tragic, ‘but he’s strong.’
Emma put down the knife she was using and went and slipped her arms around Betty. ‘Forget him. It’s good that we can look forward to a visit from Irene and Maggie. I bet Dorothy will come with them.’
Betty said, ‘Yes. I’d like to see all three. Maggie mentions my missing the coronation party and asks if we will be having a party here.’
‘Oh, I should think so,’ said Emma, dropping a kiss on her sister’s hair.
‘She doesn’t say anything about Aunt Elsie,’ muttered Betty.
‘Perhaps Dorothy wi
ll do so in her letter,’ said Emma, hurrying now to remove the egg pan from the heat.
She read Dorothy’s letter over lunch and its contents shocked her, but she said nothing of that to Betty, only telling her that which she thought would not cause her sister worry or pain. She told her that her policeman friend, Dougie, had visited the house and that Dorothy had been fortunate enough to open the door to him. She pondered on whether to mention that her aunt did know that Betty was staying with Emma. In the end she decided that she was not going to keep it secret from her. Sooner or later it was bound to come out and might cause Betty to believe that she could not trust her.
‘Your aunt knows that you’re staying with me,’ said Emma, glancing across at her, ‘but your uncle doesn’t. For reasons of her own, your aunt decided to keep that from him.’
‘I wonder why,’ murmured Betty. ‘I’m glad she did, anyway.’
‘Now, this is interesting. Your aunt is writing to your headmistress to tell her that you’ve had a relapse after your illness and you’re going to be convalescing in the countryside for a while. Apparently it was Irene’s stepbrother’s idea. Dorothy spoke to him when she went to the house.’
‘Oh, she must mean Billy McElroy, he must have been home on leave. He’s in the army, stationed up north here somewhere. He teaches new recruits how to fight.’
‘Fancy that,’ said Emma, smiling. ‘It’s a good idea of his because it opens the way for me to write to your headmistress and explain who I am and my concern about your exams.’
Betty looked relieved. ‘I will miss the old school and my friends, and especially art classes and going along to the Gianellis’ musical evenings.’
‘You can always play the piano here,’ said Emma.
Betty grinned unexpectedly. ‘You wouldn’t want to listen to my playing. It was Mum who was determined I’d learn the piano but I don’t have the aptitude. My creativity is with pencil, paintbrushes and paint.’
‘You must continue with your art here. Dorothy has enclosed your paintbox, drawing pad and other paraphernalia, I notice,’ said Emma, folding her letter and pocketing it. ‘Practice makes perfect.’
