by Menon, David
*
Kathy Jenkins had never been part of a media circus before. She hadn’t known what it was until one of her neighbours had explained. She’d led a very quiet sort of life until her father’s execution back in 1940 had been brought back into the spotlight in the last few days. The witch of Gatley Hall, as Kathy had always referred to Lady Eleanor Harding, by giving sanctuary to that evil Nazi, had shone a light on the recent history of the Hall, beginning with her brother’s murder and her father’s conviction for it. It had also taken Kathy back to a time when she’d been surrounded by pitch darkness as big as the universe and like the universe, seemed to know no end.
‘Thank you for this, Kathy,’ said Marius Van Urk, Manchester correspondent for ‘theuktoday’ online news website, as he tucked into the cake she’d baked for his visit. His charm over the phone had been what had led Kathy to giving him her ‘exclusive’ deal on her life story despite the fact that she’d never heard of something called the internet. But they were going to pay her a grand sum. She didn’t know what on earth she was going to do with it.
‘Is your tea alright, love?’
‘It’s fine, thanks, Kathy,’ said Marius, his South African accent still as strong as when he’d arrived in the UK five years ago. ‘I’m not used to being spoilt like this.’
‘Well I’m not used to getting any visitors,’ said Kathy. ‘So I have to make you welcome.’
Marius was sitting in the living room of Kathy’s council flat, fourteen storeys up in a block about four miles north of Manchester’s city centre. She’d made it as pleasant as she could but Marius could sense the decay. Carpets were frayed, furniture was old and worn, it was spotlessly clean but he could see that Kathy didn’t like to get rid of anything. There were boxes of old ornaments and glassware, newspapers and magazines, all neatly stacked, covering a quarter of the floor space, and the storage cupboard against the wall seemed full to the brim with goodness knows what. This was Kathy’s life, conducted within these few small rooms.
‘You’ve got a cracking view, Kathy,’ said Marius looking up at the window. ‘You could almost reach out and touch the city skyline.’
‘Yes,’ said Kathy, ‘I see the trains, the trams, the traffic all making their way in and out. But I like to look out at the view at night especially. All the lights make it look like Christmas, you know. It makes me think that life must be going on for some lucky souls out there.’
‘Who would you call a lucky soul, Kathy?’
‘Someone of my age who’s got a husband, a family, children and grandchildren. Oh I know you can be surrounded by people and still feel alone but I’d have liked the opportunity to find that out for myself. Anyway, I mustn’t get maudlin.’
‘How old are you, Kathy? If I can ask a lady that?’
‘I’m eighty-three, love,’ said Kathy, ‘and I feel it, believe me. My brother was murdered and my father was hanged. Have you any idea what it was like to never have the money or the know how to clear my father’s name? To never have people who could help you? I’ve lived with it for seventy years.’
‘Didn’t you ever marry, Kathy?’
‘I was engaged back in 1953,’ she declared as she poured them both some more tea, ‘the year of the coronation. His name was Harold Mortimer and he had a butcher’s shop over on the Stockport Road. But when he found out what had happened to my Dad he dropped me. It was a Thursday night and I was waiting for him outside the pictures. But he sent his mate to say that he wouldn’t be turning up and why. I ran home crying and I never bothered with blokes again after that. I didn’t see there was much point. I’ve never been to the pictures since then either.’
Even Marius, with his hardened journalist’s heart, couldn’t help but feel sad for her. This woman had let her life stop in 1953. What a waste. What a stupid bastard that Harold Mortimer had been.
‘I thought Harold was a good man,’ said Kathy, her eyes recalling every inch of the man she thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with, her heart breaking at what might’ve been. ‘I never heard from him again. I suppose he got married to someone else and had a family and whatnot and probably never thought about me again. But as far as he and I were concerned, the family curse had struck and that was that.’
‘The family curse?’
‘We were cursed, Marius. Harold Mortimer was like all the others who backed off from us when they found out about my father. Nobody was ever prepared to believe that my father was innocent. They thought we were a bad lot. My father was hanged. Those of us that were left got a life sentence.’
‘What happened to you after he was hanged?’
‘The Witch of Gatley Hall threw my Mum and I out of our tied cottage the day before my father’s execution.’
‘Serious?’
‘Oh yes,’ said Kathy, ‘she said that she needed to clear the place for the man she’d given my father’s job to.’
‘Well did you go to any family?’
‘Our families, on both my mother and my father’s side, all disowned us because of the scandal we’d been involved in.’
‘So what did you do?’
‘We slept rough for a couple of nights, me and Mum,’ said Kathy. ‘We couldn’t believe that life had just turned on us the way it had. We had no hope. My brother Peter had gone, my other brother Colin was away at the war, and my father had been taken from us in the most horrible way. We were alone.’
‘But it was the war, bombs were going off. The city must’ve been a frightening place to be in your situation. How the hell did you manage?’
‘We ended up finding a place in a hostel run by nuns until the war ended and then the council housed us. Colin came back from the war but he wasn’t right. He’d seen things, done things, and then there was what had happened to our Peter and my Dad for him to have to deal with. He took to the drink and he met a right drunken tart called Brenda. I never had any time for her right from the start but Colin wouldn’t hear a word against her. After a few weeks she was pregnant, he married her and nine months later their daughter was born…’
Paul watched her face brighten.
‘…Susan brought such light and hope into the family. We thought we’d turned a corner. She was such a beautiful little thing but of course it didn’t take long for things to go wrong. Brenda couldn’t cope and she just walked out one day and we never saw her again. Colin turned back to the drink and carried on until he dropped into an early grave. Susan was six. She and her father had been living with us since Brenda left so she just stayed with us and we brought her up. It was just mother, me, and Susan. It was hard, we never had any money, we never went on holidays, but Susan always knew that she was loved and wanted.’
‘You must be so bitter, Kathy? I mean, the life you’ve led compared to that of Lady Eleanor’
‘Bitter isn’t the word,’ said Kathy, ‘I think I’m more angry rather than bitter Marius, love.’
‘I don’t blame you,’ said Marius, ‘I don’t see how anybody couldn’t be.’
‘We went to see my father the day before they did it. I’ll never forget the look on his face. He couldn’t say anything to us and we didn’t know what to say to him.’
‘I can’t even begin to imagine what that must’ve been like, Kathy,’ said Paul, ‘but tell me what happened to your niece Susan?’
‘Susan was a bright girl and despite everything she did well at school. She went to work as a typist over at Hope hospital here in Salford and we really thought the curse had been broken. She was popular. She had a lot of friends and a good social life. She brought so much joy into the lives of me and her grandmother. Then she met Miles. He was a doctor at the hospital, he spoke nicely, God knows what he must’ve thought of this place. He was so handsome and we thought he really cared for our Susan.’
‘Thought he did?’
‘Susan found she was pregnant and that’s when Miles told her he was married and that what she did about the pregnancy was her business and had nothing to do with hi
m.’
Marius rubbed his hand across his face, ‘I knew you were going to say that.’
‘He got himself a transfer to a hospital down south somewhere. It turned out that’s where his wife and children were.’
‘So what happened to Susan after that?’
Kathy breathed in deep. ‘During the pregnancy it was hard for her because none of her friends knew what to say and she couldn’t really go out with them anymore. These days of course nobody would bat an eye lid, but back then it was still a bit frowned upon. But when the baby was born, a little boy, Susan was overjoyed. She ran around the place looking after him and again we thought that the curse had been broken. But then she went out one day to do some shopping and she got knocked down crossing the road. She died at the scene.’
Marius held Kathy’s hand. ‘Oh Kathy, Kathy,’ he shook his head. ‘I just don’t know what to say about so much pain. What you’ve told me is extraordinary.’
‘I managed to contact Miles but he didn’t want to know,’ said Kathy, ‘the baby was three months old…’ she started to cry.
‘Hey, hey, it’s alright, Kathy.’
‘I had to give the baby a chance, you see. I couldn’t let another life be destroyed. The curse would’ve got him in the end and I couldn’t let that happen. So I decided to give the baby up for adoption. I remember the day they came for him. My mother and I cried our hearts out for days afterwards. We’d lost him. We’d lost everyone. It was back to being just the two of us.’
‘Oh, Kathy,’ said Marius.
‘My mother died ten years ago,’ said Kathy. ‘We didn’t go out much and nobody ever came to see us but we were okay in our own little world I suppose. We didn’t really know any different. We knew that life could be better and was better for some other people but… well we just got on with what we had.’
‘Which didn’t add up to a whole lot.’
‘No it didn’t,’ said Kathy, ‘not really.’
‘So what have done since your Mum died?’
‘The same as I did when she was alive,’ said Kathy, ‘I do the main shop once a week and I go down and get some fresh bits and pieces a couple of days later. That all lasts me till the next main shop. I’ve got good neighbours thankfully. Cyril is on one side and Norma and Ted are on the other. I am lucky in that respect. We keep an eye on each other and have a glass of sherry at Christmas, you know.’
‘Kathy,’ said Marius, getting down to the real point of why he was there. ‘Your father protested his innocence throughout his trial and right up to his execution.’
‘That’s because he was innocent, Marius,’ said Kathy.
‘Tell me what he said happened that night when your brother was murdered?’
‘Well, he said that he ran into where the swimming pool was because he’d heard a lot of noise and a lot of shouting. But the sight that greeted him made him stop literally in his tracks. Lady Eleanor and my brother were in the pool but there was also another man there.’ She started to cry. ‘Sorry, I was so close to Peter when I was a kid. He took care of me and that, you know. Anyway, he said that she, Lady Eleanor, and this other man were standing over Peter’s dead body.’
‘So you’re saying that Peter was dead when your father got there?’
‘Yes,’ said Kathy.
‘And he didn’t know who this other man was?’
‘No, he didn’t,’ said Kathy, ‘but what if it was this Nazi who’s hiding there now? I’m bitter, Marius, because my father was a decent, honest man but he was made out to be a liar by a system that would rather believe someone with a title. And it led to him dying in the most horrific way. Somebody has got to pay, Marius. Someone has got to finally get justice for my father.’
*
Paul was having dinner with Kelly and Lydia at the Rice Bowl, his favourite Chinese restaurant in Manchester, down on Cross Street. They often came here after having a few early drinks in town. They liked the largely white walls with their framed pieces of Chinese artefacts and the friendly way with which the staff always greeted them. Lydia particularly liked a Buddha’s face in wood that was hanging on the far wall and often stated a desire to steal it for her living room.
Their starters had already been cleared away. Paul had gone for Won Ton soup and the girls had each ordered a selection of Dim Sum. Paul poured some more of the Chilean red wine they were drinking into each of the girl’s glasses before replenishing his own and then their main courses arrived, laid out on the table by two waiters dressed in the traditional Chinese black shirts and baggy trousers. Paul had ordered beef in a black bean sauce with crispy fried noodles, Kelly had ordered a large bowl of noodle soup with prawns, and Lydia had satisfied her sweet tooth with a sweet and sour chicken. The first bottle of wine had almost gone so they ordered another. None of them had brought their cars. They were going to get the metrolink home.
‘You see, the thing about it is that people didn’t expect Labour politicians to be doing it,’ said Lydia as a contribution to the discussion they were having about the MP’s expenses scandal and how it was taking a long time for the public to trust politicians again. ‘They expected it from the Tories. They expected them to be cleaning up whatever they can, claiming for gardening and dog food when they’re a multi-millionaire and all that. But they didn’t expect politicians from the party of the working class to be claiming two hundred quid for a bathroom towel and to flip their designated homes to avoid paying capital gains tax.’
‘Dead on,’ said Kelly.
‘They’ve not all been at it though,’ said Paul. ‘Some of them have done wrong and they need to account for it, fair enough. But there are other more powerful people in society who’ve done much more damage. Like the bankers who brought the entire financial system of the world to the brink but still expect their million pound bonuses. Captains of industry expecting the same even after the companies they ran lost millions. Multi-national companies dumping toxic waste on African coasts and nobody gives a shit about local people dying because they’re only poor Africans and they don’t rate in the world pecking order, which is why those multi-nationals go there in the first place. Our politicians, no matter how much they’ve swindled out of the system, are practically saints compared to all that lot.’
‘That’s all true enough,’ said Kelly.
The waiting staff returned and cleared away the remnants of their main courses and replaced them on the table with some orange segments, slices of melon and a hot towel each.
‘The wine is looking pretty low again,’ said Lydia, picking up the bottle and turning it one way and then the other. ‘Shall we order another?’
‘Why not,’ said Paul, ‘I don’t care that it’s a school night and I can tell neither of you are on an early shift.’
‘Anyway, enough of all this politics,’ said Kelly. ‘Show us that watch again.’
Paul had said that for one night only he’d wear the watch his father had given him. He’d have to admit that he was bloody proud of it but it would be only coming out on very special occasions. He’d never seen anything like it and neither had either of the girls.
‘It’s like something out of another world,’ said Kelly as she held Paul’s wrist admiring it. ‘Be careful wearing it though. It looks pretty valuable.’
‘It’s probably very old,’ said Paul as his eyes followed the line of encrusted diamonds around the watch face. He’d never have bought anything like it but he’d keep it forever now that his father had given it to him.
‘It looks like something from another world,’ said Lydia. ‘It’s almost magical.’
‘I wonder how much it is worth,’ said Kelly.
‘Do you think I should find out?’
‘It wouldn’t do any harm, would it,’ said Kelly. ‘I mean I’m sure your Dad didn’t give it to you for that reason but it might be an idea.’
Paul took the watch off and held it up. ‘I wonder what it could tell me if it could talk.’
‘How do you mean?’ asked Kelly
.
‘I don’t know,’ said Paul. ‘It’s just a feeling I get. Dad didn’t tell me much about the lady who gave it to him. Perhaps he was some rich bitch’s bit of rough.’
‘I’ll bet your Dad was a looker in his day,’ said Lydia.
‘Where did it go wrong with you then, Paul?’ laughed Kelly.
‘Oh ha fucking ha!’
‘Which brings me neatly on to asking how you’re feeling?’ asked Kelly.
‘With my hands as usual,’ said Paul.
‘No, you idiot, about Jake?’
‘Like a hammer came down on my head,’ said Paul.
‘You’ve still let him back in though, haven’t you,’ said Lydia.
‘Is that an accusation?’
‘No, it’s a statement of truth,’ said Lydia. ‘We know you’ve let him back into your life.’
‘And your bed’ said Kelly.
‘Christ, have you been checking my sheets for stains?’
‘We didn’t have to,’ said Kelly. ‘We saw his car outside your place the other morning.’
‘He’s different,’ stated Paul. ‘His experiences in Afghanistan have damaged him. He went through absolute hell out there and I want to help him.’
‘But you don’t have to anymore, Paul,’ said Lydia. ‘That’s all we’re saying. Now that he’s made his choice you can wash your hands of him and move on with your life.’
‘No, I can’t, Lydia,’ said Paul, firmly, ‘and if you two can’t deal with that then it’s your problem, but I’ve never turned my back on anybody when they needed me and I’m not going to start with Jake.’
