‘Where’s your father, Alex? Alex?’
Evelyne had to slap his face, he didn’t even seem to know that he was in her arms.
‘Get the bloody fool outta there, it’s going up at any time.’
Knowing both her boys were safe, Evelyne headed for number twelve. A fireman grabbed her, shouting that the house would blow at any minute, everyone had to get back.
‘He’s inside, Ma, he went in for Rex, he’s gone to get Rex.’
The hoses drenched her as she screamed out for Freedom. The smoke was so thick now that their eyes were red and smarting, and the fumes from the glue factory hung in the air like an overpowering cloud.
‘Freedom … Freedom?’
As the roof blew, Freedom hurtled out of the house, clutching the terrified, snarling dog to his chest. Evelyne, her arms wrapped around her boys, almost collapsed with relief. They all stood together and watched the house blaze. Alex clung to her, holding his beloved dog at the same time. The hoses sprayed them as they stood in the debris of their street. Freedom went back to help with the fire.
Freda had been at her sewing machine, and Ed had obviously tried to warn her — his body was found in the passageway between the rooms. Ed’s brother and sister-in-law and two of their children had been trapped in the kitchen. They had not stood a chance.
The realization of how lucky they were did not dawn until later that night as they lay in the underground shelter. They huddled together, clinging to each other. Alex whispered to his mother that Edward had known it would happen, he had known.
‘What are you talking about, love, how did he know?’
Edward was sleeping, his filthy face resting on his arms. Evelyne wrapped the blanket closer around him, tried not to cry.
‘He knew, Ma. We were out in the yard and there was no sound of the planes, nothing — no sirens even, an’ as it was day we didn’t worry, like — an’ suddenly he grabbed hold of me and said go and warn Auntie an’ Uncle Ed. The planes weren’t even overhead.’
Freedom left the shelter and went off to do his warden’s duties, and in the morning he was back and said they could return to their house. The roof was badly damaged and they didn’t have a single window left, but at” least it was still standing.
The sad, bedraggled group made its way home. The street was full of rubble, and the ambulances were still taking the bodies of the dead away. Firemen were digging in the bombed-out buildings looking for survivors, for bodies. The family kept their eyes down, not wanting to see Freda’s frilly curtains, charred and sodden, lying in the gutter. They stepped over puddles, charred furniture, shattered glass, until they stood outside their house. Evelyne shuddered, it looked so derelict, so black, so deathly.
‘Freedom, I don’t want to go in, is there anywhere else we could go?’
He was carrying Rex in his arms, and he paused. Was she reading his mind? ‘It’s our home, and the way you look at it is, they hit us once, be a miracle if they get us again … Come on, lads, let’s make some tea and get the place cleaned up.’
Freedom could feel the horror, the house closing in on him, and he gasped for breath. The acrid stench from the glue factory hung in the air, burning his nostrils. He put his shoulder to the door and it crashed open.
The impact of bombs all round had made the house subside. The passageway was waterlogged and strewn with broken glass, and over everything was thick, black dust. It broke Evelyne’s heart. Ordering the boys to search for what could be salvaged, Freedom began to clear away the ruined furniture. In the centre of the room was the scrapbook — not one page was left intact. He picked it up, and all he could think of was Ed, how he had looked with his warden’s tin hat on the back of his head. He gritted his teeth and threw the remains of the book out of the back door along with everything else. But he couldn’t get Ed’s voice out of his mind, heard again the last words Ed had said to him, ‘Now, look, lad, I’m not one wiv words, but I want you ter know somefihk should anyfink ever happen … I love you, like you was me’ own son, an’ I’m depending on you ter take care of Freda. I’ve not much, but what I ‘ave is yours, that includes all me memorabilia.’
Freedom felt the loss swamping him, overpowering him, and he hurled a chair out through the broken window with all his might. Edward started screaming, and Freedom’s heart lurched. He turned in panic, to see Edward waving a telegram, his face shining.
‘Ma, Ma, it’s come, I’ve won a scholarship to Cambridge. I’ve won a place at Cambridge University … I’ve done it!’
Before Evelyne could congratulate him, Freedom slammed his fist into the last intact pane of glass, shattering it into the yard. His fist bleeding, he turned on Edward, his face dark with rage.
‘Don’t you ever think of anyone but yerself, boy? There’s Freda an’ Ed dead, an’ all you can scream about is that you won a bloody scholarship’. I’ll knock that smile off your face!’
Edward was taken aback for a moment, then he glared. ‘You just try it — come on then, try it.’ He threw a wild punch at his father, and Freedom blocked it with a swift movement of his arm. Edward tottered backwards, off balance.
‘You better stay away from me, Eddie, I mean it.’
Edward charged, head down, and butted Freedom in the stomach, then swung his fists like windmills, but again Freedom threw him off as though he were a small child. This time Edward lurched backwards, striking his head on the mantelpiece. His face red, his mouth tight, he picked himself up. ‘That’s the last time you’ll ever hit me, you bastard, you bastard.’
Reaching out, Freedom grabbed Edward and pulled him closer, slapping his face, the blows jerking his head back and forth. ‘Don’t try fighting me, sonny, you don’t stand a chance. Go and join the army like the rest of the lads, like a man, instead of a nancy boy tied to your mother’s apron strings.’
Edward dodged behind the table. ‘Only nancy boy. round this place is you, the great champion fighter, an’ the army wouldn’t even take yer.’
Alex ran from the room into the hallway, calling for his mother, ‘Ma, Ma, come quick, Dad and Eddie are fighting!’
Panic-stricken, he ran up the stairs. Freedom kicked the door shut, and began to roll up his sleeves. ‘You’ll not have your Ma to help you now, son, you’ve been asking for this for a long time.’
Evelyne ran down the stairs, screaming at the top of her voice. ‘Freedom, Edward, what’s going on?’
‘ Freedom stood with his back against the door and shouted for her to stay out of it. She tried to push the door open, but he slammed it shut. Rex ran to Freedom, whimpering, but he kicked out at the dog.
‘That’s right, kick the dog, he can’t kick you back, can he? I can and I will. What you ever done for us, you with your big mouth an’ even bigger fists? Ma’s provided for this family, not you, it’s never been you. Go back to prison an’ leave us alone!’
Freedom clenched his fists, fighting for self-control, trying to keep his blind fury in check. Suddenly he was pushed forward as Alex forced his way into the kitchen. He grabbed Freedom’s arm. ‘Dad, Dad, don’t, he doesn’t mean it! Tell him you didn’t mean it, Eddie, please, Dad, don’t!’
‘I meant every word, we were better off when he was in jail, at least Ma didn’t have an extra mouth to feed.’
Evelyne came in and moved right between Edward and Freedom. ‘I’ll talk to him, just don’t fight, let me talk to him.’
Freedom pushed her aside. ‘No, Evie, not this time, you’ve always protected them, protected him. He’s going to have to learn.’ Freedom’s voice was icy calm. He moved closer and closer to Edward. ‘You’re going down to that recruiting office right now, if I have to drag you there meself
Edward spat at him and ran round the room, ducking behind Evelyne. She put her arms out, pleading, ‘Don’t, Freedom, ah, don’t, don’t do something you’ll be sorry for, please, please, don’t.’
The belt slithered from Freedom’s trousers and he wound it around his hand. Edward shrieked, suddenly afraid.
‘I’m going to university, tell him Ma, tell him.’
‘You’re going to work, lad, we can’t afford no university, not with the house burnt down round our ears. You are gonna earn your keep like every other lad around here.’
Evelyne made a grab for Freedom, shouting, ‘That’s for me to say, Freedom, it’s my savings, mine!’
Deflated, Freedom turned a beseeching look on her. She ran out of the house, shouting for help. Heart-broken, Freedom watched her go. Once again she had taken her son’s side.
Edward took that moment to open the kitchen drawer and take out the carving knife. ‘Satisfied, are you? You bloody satisfied, you bastard?’ He was hysterical, shaking, holding the knife like a dagger. Alex was the one to move towards his brother to try and take the knife, but Rex ran to him and he tripped over the dog, sprawled on to the floor. Freedom’s face terrified Edward, the mask in place, no expression, the eyes black … He kept moving, coming closer arid closer, unafraid, menacing, daring Edward to use the knife.
Evelyne was out in the street. Police and firemen were everywhere, clearing the debris. She screamed. ‘Dear God, stop them, someone stop them!’
Freedom reached out to grip his son by the hair, and Edward brought the knife down in one single, stabbing thrust. Freedom remained standing. He looked into his son’s face, his mask dropped, and his eyes full of anguish. Edward stepped back, stared first at his empty hand, then back at his father. Freedom made no attempt to remove the knife. He lifted his arms as if to embrace his son, then he fell forward, fell on to the knife, pushing it further into his heart.
There was a terrible silence in the room. No one moved. The colour drained from Edward’s face and he swayed. Alex still held Rex’s collar as the dog howled, trying to get to Freedom. Two policemen rushed in kicking the door wide open, and took the situation in immediately. Rex barked furiously, his claws scrabbling on the lino to get to Freedom, Edward stood stupified,
staring at his father. One of the policemen knelt down, slowly turned the body over. The blood had already formed a thick, dark pool, the knife in Freedom’s heart right up to the hilt.
‘Oh, Jesus God … right, you two lads, up against the wall, the pair of you, against the wall, now.’
Like terrified children, Edward and Alex stood with their backs against the wall. They watched in horror as their mother looked from the open kitchen door at the body. Her legs were shaking, the tremor running right through her … she pushed the policeman’s helping hand away, stumbled to kneel beside Freedom. She cradled him to her, the blood oozing over her chest as she rocked him in her arms. She made not a sound. They could see the blood spreading over her pinafore, his blood, blood to blood, heart to heart. Without looking at his brother, Alex put out his hand, and they grasped each other tight, but made no move towards their mother.
The drone of fighter planes coming closer made one of the policemen swear out loud, ‘Dear God, the bastards are coming again, and in broad daylight.’
The air-raid warning sounded for everyone to take cover. Edward’s black eyes clung to his mother, never leaving her face as he watched her cradle the body. He had never seen such raw agony. His body felt chilled, icy, as if his own life were draining steadily away. The grasp of his brother’s hand gave him assurance, but the voices of the police became distorted, unreal. ‘There’s an ambulance outside, we’ll get him outside later, best get to the shelter. There’s nothing we can do here until after the bombing. You two lads come with us, come on, move it.’
Alex and Edward were herded roughly out of the door by one of the policemen, and the other bent down to Evelyne. ‘Come on, come on Missus, the bombs’ll be dropping any minute. There’s nothing you can do for him now …’
Evelyne looked up and told him quietly that there was no need for the ambulance, he was dead … ‘Leave me, please, leave me with him, please.’
The policeman realized it was pointless to argue. She was so calm, like ice, and he didn’t want to waste any more time. The unearthly wail of the sirens continued, and he followed the others out. As he hurried to the shelter, he looked up. Broad daylight, the bastards had the audacity to come in broad daylight, like big, black birds in the sky.
The deadly bombs fell all around number twelve, but Evelyne couldn’t hear them. She sat on the floor cradling Freedom’s body in her arms, unable to cry. Her body felt wounded as if the blood were slowly dripping from her. Rex whimpered, crawling on his belly to lie beside her, licking the outstretched, lifeless hand.
Under the watchful eyes of the policemen, the brothers huddled in the shelter. Alex held Edward in his arms, and whispered to him, softly so the police couldn’t hear. ‘Edward? Listen to me, I’ll say that I did it. No one saw, no one will know, can you hear me?’
Holding his brother tight, needing his warmth, Edward listened.
‘I’m two years younger, they can’t do nothin’ to me, I’m a juvenile, they’ll not send me to jail. You can go to Cambridge, you can still go.’
Edward shuddered and clung even closer, feeling the softness of his brother’s skin. He kissed Alex’s neck.
‘See, it’s what Ma wants, what she’s dreamed of, so I’ll do it, I’ll say it was me that knifed him.’
Edward whispered close to Alex’s ear. ‘I didn’t mean it, you know that, I didn’t mean to do it… I’ll make it up to you, I will, I give you my word I’ll make it up to you.’
Alex seemed satisfied, patting his brother as if he were the younger of the two. Edward gave him a small thankful smile. ‘You won’t go back on your word, will you? I mean, you won’t ever tell anyone, will you?’
Alex blinked back his tears. ‘No, Eddie, I’ll never tell no one else, not even Ma if you don’t want me to.’
Edward gave him a hug, then peeked out of the shelter, said he thought the bombing was almost over. Alex looked at Edward, who no longer seemed to be distressed, no longer clung to him. Alex was shocked, confused, but it was too late, he had given his word.
The bombing had ceased and the all-clear sounded. Edward’s voice was calm. ‘Will you have to take my brother to the police station, sir? I should get back to our mother.’
The people who had sheltered with them lingered to watch, but they were moved on by another officer. Alex was taken away from Edward, and was led to the front of the house. The police officer took Edward aside. ‘Now, lad, best take care of your mother. We’ll have to take him into custody, understand? Tell her she can come down the station any time, but we have to get your brother’s statement.’
‘What’ll happen to him, sir? It was an accident, he didn’t mean it.’
That was not for the officer to say, but he gave Edward permission to have a few words with Alex before they took him away.
Some of the neighbours stood on their front steps, whispering and nodding at the ambulance and the police. Two air-raid wardens joined the gathering, and they all watched with interest, but the police kept them at a distance.
Edward went over to the silent Alex, standing between two police officers. He looked unafraid, his chin up and managing not to cry. Edward couldn’t say what he wanted, not with the officers standing so close … He caught Alex’s hand and tried to hug him, but the sergeant broke them apart, and pushed Edward roughly aside. ‘Don’t start anything, sonny, go to your mother, there’s a good lad. Let’s get this over with as quietly as we can. The whole street’s watching.’
Alex was led to a police wagon and helped up into the back of it. Edward called out to him that everything would be all right. He watched the white face staring from the back of the van as they drove off.
The policeman and the ambulance attendant stood talking at the front door, and Edward went to pass them to enter the house, but the policeman put a hand on his arm. ‘She’s in a bad state, and she won’t let anyone touch him. We’ve been waiting for a doctor so they can take him up to the morgue.’
Edward couldn’t face her. She sat in exactly the same position, with Freedom still in h
er arms. Rex still licked the lifeless hand.
‘Ma, Ma, you’ll have to let him go. They have, to take him away.’
Slowly she turned vacant eyes towards him, and as if in slow motion she blinked. Prising her rigid arms from his father’s body, he held her. She was covered in blood, and it had dried, hard. The police and an attendant moved in, wrapped the body in a blanket and carried it outside to the ambulance, where the doctor was waiting. Several people watched the body being lifted into the ambulance, and the doctor examined it briefly and told the ambulance crew to take it straight to the morgue, the hospital could do nothing. One of the spectators asked if bombs had dropped on this side of the street, if they had he hadn’t heard them. ‘I’ve got so that I don’t hear ‘em any more, was it a bomb done it?’
The policeman shook his head, said quietly that this was a murder. They shut the back of die ambulance, not noticing the white dog standing by the closed doors.
The truck drove off, the dog followed, followed until his paws were bloody from running on the broken glass and rubble. He knew his master was inside the wagon, and he wouldn’t stop following it. In his exhaustion and the confusion of the traffic he began to follow the wrong vehicle, becoming more bewildered and confused, unable to find the scent, unable to find Freedom. In the end he lay in the gutter, chest heaving, tongue lolling, and his pink eyes closed as his heart gradually stopped.
Evelyne felt as if her heart had broken, it was so painful, she kept her hand pressed to her chest, to the dark, crusted stain. Edward made her some tea. She didn’t speak, but she sipped it, slowly. At long last she appeared to thaw out, the hand that had remained pressed to her chest moved, and she stared at her stained fingers. ‘Where’s Alex, where’s Alex?’
The Legacy l-1 Page 55
