by Cathy Sharp
It might help if she visited Archie’s mother in prison. Beatrice shrank from entering such a terrible place, but when she gave the matter sufficient thought she realised it was her duty to make the visit. Indeed, she ought to have done so before this. If Sandra Miller was innocent, as her son insisted, there had been a terrible miscarriage of justice and something must be done about it.
Glancing at the clock, Beatrice saw that it was nearly six in the morning. She got wearily to her feet, deciding that she must go to her room, wash and change into clean clothes and make herself a cup of tea while she decided whom to consult.
It was as she was halfway across the garden that the idea came to her. She would enlist Angela’s father’s help. Mr Hendry had retired from his profession some years back, but he was a solicitor and, from what she’d heard from Angela, a good one. If he felt able, he might handle the case himself, and if not he would know of someone who could help her.
She would telephone Angela after breakfast and ask her for his telephone number. And she would also ask if it was possible that someone at Halfpenny House was in the habit of locking boys in a cupboard to punish them, because Archie had never been the sort of boy that lied. The decision made her feel very much better. She’d been anxious and undecided for days, but now she knew exactly what she was doing …
‘Mr Hendry, it’s Sister Beatrice of St Saviour’s,’ she said into the telephone later that morning. ‘I do hope you don’t mind my telephoning you?’
‘Angela gave me a quick ring and told me you have a problem,’ Edward Hendry said with a smile in his voice. ‘I should be very happy to help in whatever way I can …’
‘It’s two problems really,’ Beatrice said and went on to explain about the high-handed manner in which both she and the Miller children had been treated. ‘I want to discover just where she is and to have the order overturned, if I can – and I should also like someone to make inquiries about Mrs Miller’s case. If she was falsely accused something should be done …’
‘I couldn’t agree more,’ Edward Hendry said. ‘I will undertake to look into the matter of the girl myself, Sister Beatrice. However, you need a specialist to poke about and discover what he can in Mrs Miller’s case. I know of someone who owes me a favour or two. I’ll ask him to call on you in the next day or so. He’s in the police force and his name is Jonathan Carter – and he is based in London so it will be easier for him to make inquiries. And I’ll contact a solicitor friend as well and ask him to discover what the legal position is, both for the mother and the daughter.’
‘Would his services cost a great deal?’ Beatrice asked hesitantly.
‘Consider any fees a gift from me,’ Edward Hendry said. ‘As I said, I’m owed a few favours and I’m calling them in now …’ He chuckled. ‘I was feeling my age, but this has given me an interest. I’ll be in touch as soon as I’ve started the ball rolling, Sister.’
Replacing her receiver, Beatrice smiled. It was good to have friends at times like these. She wished that either Nan or Angela had been here to help settle her mind, because she was uneasy about Archie. Was she doing the right thing in letting him run free – or should she call the police and risk losing his trust forever?
Sighing, she got to her feet. It was time for her to begin her rounds. She could not make such a huge decision feeling as tired as she did; there was no doubting that time was catching up with her. Like Angela’s father, she was feeling her age, though he, poor man, had had a couple of small heart attacks. Fortunately, he’d recovered and was planning to marry the woman he’d loved in secret for years. Like so many before him, he’d suffered an unhappy marriage for the sake of his daughter, keeping his unhappiness to himself.
She was pleased she’d asked him for help. For too many years she’d refused help from anyone, standing firmly on her own two feet, but the years had mellowed her.
She knew nostalgia for the past, when she’d been a girl, before life had disillusioned her, before it all happened; the loss of her lover to the first big war, her unhappy marriage and then the tragic death of her son. It had taken her years to come to terms with the despair that had caused her to enter the convent … Sighing, she thrust the foolish thoughts from her mind. Beatrice had lived fully, devoting her time and her energy to helping others, and if God approved she would go on doing that for a few years yet …
Angela waited until Mark had settled down with a glass of wine before telling him what was on her mind. After Sister Beatrice’s phone call she’d paid a visit to Halfpenny House and had a long chat with Mrs Mellors, the Superintendent, and what she’d discovered had bothered her.
‘What do you know about Gerald Smith’s background?’ she asked, curling up in the deep armchair opposite him. This was what they called the Den and they used it because it was comfortable for quiet evenings when they were alone and looked out on to their pleasant but rather large garden at the back.
‘I know that look,’ Mark said, frowning over his glass. ‘When we interviewed him his references were excellent … more than thirty years as a school teacher and twenty as the headmaster of a private school for boys.’
‘Yes, but what do you know of the man himself? His methods of discipline for instance?’
‘Ah, now we’re coming to it,’ Mark smiled at his wife, both love and laughter in his eyes. ‘What has happened?’
‘You know that Archie Miller ran away a few days after he was brought here?’ Mark nodded. ‘Well, Sister Beatrice seems to think Mr Smith may have locked him in a cupboard …’
Mark frowned. ‘Was he being violent? We brought Gerald in because we felt the older boys needed a man to discipline them, but I’m not sure I approve of that sort of thing. It can have severe mental consequences in some cases. How long was he there and why?’
‘Sister Beatrice wasn’t able to discover. Archie paid her a fleeting visit but, according to him, he was asking Mr Smith for help and got locked in a cupboard – that’s all she knew.’
‘He may have been lying …’
‘Yes, but Sister says he’s a very honest boy and he was angry. I’m wondering, Mark. Mrs Mellors told me she doesn’t like Gerald – and although the boys have quietened down a bit, she said one of them had a cut hand a few weeks back. One of the carers took him to the doctor and they were told he’d cut himself on broken glass, but he wouldn’t tell them how he did it – and there have been a couple of other incidents … nothing she could put her finger on but she thinks Mr Smith doesn’t fit in at Halfpenny House.’
‘Right.’ Mark finished his drink. ‘I’m glad you told me, Angela. We did need a man to keep some kind of discipline, but I’d hoped a headmaster would not need to resort to either violence or petty vengeance, which is how I would describe shutting a lad in the cupboard. Leave it with me. I’ll talk to Mrs Mellors myself and make a few inquiries.’ He got up and refilled their glasses. ‘Now tell me what kind of a day you’ve had – and what the terrible twins have been up to …’
CHAPTER 10
‘I’m so mad at her,’ Mary Ellen said to Billy as they sat drinking coffee at their favourite table, the noise and chatter of the Rock ’n’ Roll club flowing round them. ‘She’s been like a bear with a sore head for weeks, snapping at me every time I open my mouth and threatening to stop me meeting you. She even had the cheek to tell Marion to keep an eye on me tonight – as if I needed that …’
‘Rose is Rose,’ Billy said smiling gently as he tried to soothe her. ‘Don’t let her upset you, love. She knows she can’t stop you meeting me. You would just ignore her; besides, we only get to see each other twice a week these days.’
‘I know,’ she sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Billy. It’s rotten for you when I’m studying, but I’ve got a big exam coming up in the autumn. If I pass that I can apply for teacher training college …’
‘How do you feel about the work you’re doing?’ Billy asked. ‘I mean the stuff you have to read and that … is it harder than you thought?’
‘No
t really, now I’ve got used to it and sorted the proper reading list. I never knew there were so many books out there, Billy. They don’t teach us half of it in school …’
‘That’s because they do those books in the last year and we neither of us stayed on.’ Billy looked sad. ‘I suppose it was never meant for me – but you deserved your chance, Mary Ellen.’
‘Well, I’ve got it now, if you can put up with me working most nights?’
‘I’ll have to, won’t I?’ he replied as Marion sashayed up to them. ‘Hi, how yer doin’?’ he greeted her.
‘I’m OK,’ she said and took a packet of Sobranje cigarettes out of her pocket, offering them to him and then Mary Ellen.
‘What are these then?’ Billy asked, raising his brows at the bright colours in the smart black box.
‘Cocktail cigarettes,’ Marion said. ‘They were a present from someone – a man I met at a coffee bar the other night. He said I was a special girl and deserved something special and then he bought me these cigarettes tonight.’
‘Watch him,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘He sounds a bit dodgy, Marion. You be careful of strangers …’
‘We can’t all be as lucky as you are,’ Marion said and pouted as they both refused her offering. ‘Don’t know what you’re missing. See you later, I’ve got to see my friend …’
They watched her walk off and join a man dressed in a blue Teddy boy jacket and black drainpipes, with a pale-blue shirt and a shoestring tie, and dark-blue suede shoes. The strains of ‘Unchained Melody’ sung by Al Hibbler were coming from the record player and Mary Ellen watched the dancers drifting by in each other’s arms.
‘She wants to be careful of him,’ Billy said and looked concerned. ‘That’s Stevie Baker. I knew him at school. He’s a show-off and he’s into all sorts. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him – though he did put me on to my job at the nightclub …’
‘You didn’t tell me about a job at the nightclub. You haven’t given up your apprenticeship?’
‘Not me,’ Billy said. ‘It’s just a few hours at night. I throw people out if they get rowdy. They pay me more than I get working days and they want me to go full time, but I’ve told them I can’t do every night and I shan’t leave my proper job.’
‘No, you mustn’t,’ Mary Ellen urged. ‘I’m not sure I like you doing that sort of work, Billy. You might get hurt …’
‘Nah, I’m all right,’ he said, grinning. ‘I’m just doing my job. Mostly they go quietly when I ask and if they don’t I simply pick them up and carry them out gently.’
Mary Ellen shook her head. She didn’t believe it was that easy, but she couldn’t blame Billy for wanting to earn more money. With her latest rise he got less than she did, but she hadn’t told him that because she knew it would make him feel small. Billy wanted to be the provider, the one who looked after her and gave her nice presents. She knew how hard he had to save every time he bought her something, but she just thanked him and kissed him; Billy had his pride and Mary Ellen would never make him feel any less satisfied with life than he did already. One day he would earn more and then perhaps they could marry, but in the meantime they had to put up with only seeing each other twice a week.
‘Rose wouldn’t approve of you being a bouncer,’ she said. ‘I shan’t tell her – and don’t let on to Marion, because she might let it out. Billy, I don’t much like it either …’
‘I need the money,’ he said and she noticed he looked a bit impatient. ‘Besides, I want something to do – you’re working all the time and I want to get on, make something better of my life.’
Mary Ellen didn’t answer. It was the first time Billy had got annoyed with her and she knew it wasn’t much fun when she was working. It was only to be expected even though he’d encouraged her to start the course – but there had been something in the way Marion looked at him that made her a little uneasy. Billy had just been himself, but Mary Ellen couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy when he’d seemed concerned for her over Stevie.
Marion had been their friend for years and he didn’t understand that things had changed. Marion was jealous of their special relationship and, if she guessed that Rose would stop them meeting if she knew of Billy’s job, she would let it slip somehow …
Billy didn’t go straight back to St Saviour’s after seeing Mary Ellen home. He’d offered to make sure that Marion got back safely too, but she said Stevie was taking her. They didn’t see anything of the other pair as they walked home, but Billy knew that Stevie sometimes drove a car belonging to one of the nightclub owners.
He was feeling a bit gloomy, because Mary Ellen had made it clear she didn’t like him working at the nightclub, but she didn’t understand that he felt trapped in his job. He wouldn’t get a rise until he’d reached a certain stage in his training and he was fed up living at St Saviour’s and never having the money to get a decent place of his own. It was all right for her, she had a bright future when she passed all the stuff she needed, whereas he’d still be doing a job he didn’t much like … and he didn’t intend to give up this nightclub work even for Mary Ellen.
He’d arranged to go in from half past ten to four in the morning, which was when the last punters were politely – or not so politely – asked to leave. Sister Beatrice knew where he was working. She’d put him through a stiff interrogation before she agreed to him staying out late, but in the end she’d agreed that the extra money would come in useful.
‘You will give me your word that you will not get mixed up with anything illegal or underhand, Billy?’
‘Yes, Sister, I promise I shan’t let you down. It’s a way to earn some money for my own home – and the future, that’s all …’
‘Very well, I shall trust you, young man. You haven’t let me down yet.’
Billy promised he wouldn’t and she’d given her permission. In the old days Sister Beatrice would simply have refused to listen; he would have been forbidden to work at the nightclub and told that if he disobeyed he must find himself another room. However, the last seven years or so had mellowed her, and they had a sort of understanding. He liked the nun far more than he would ever admit to anyone but Mary Ellen, and did what he could at St Saviour’s to repay her kindness.
Billy checked in at the club, was told it was a quiet night and was asked to stand at the door to prevent any drunks trying to force their way in after the public houses had finally shut their doors. A couple of men he’d never seen before tried to bluff their way in, but they weren’t members and Billy stood his ground, refusing them entrance, even though they offered him five pounds as a bribe. It was a lot of money, but if he took it that would be the end of his job.
At a quarter past four the last customer left. He was an older man that Billy had seen at the club several times. He saluted as the man paused to take his bearings.
‘Goodnight, sir.’
‘Goodnight, Billy. Nearly finished, have you?’
‘Yes, sir; Mr Marshall will be locking up at any minute now …’
Billy watched as the other man walked off down the street rather unsteadily. It was still dark and some of the lights had gone out, which made the streets a little eerie somehow, as if monsters lurked in the shadows.
‘Right, off you go then, Billy. We’ll see you tomorrow?’
‘Yes, Mr Marshall. I’ll be here at the same time. Do you think Mr Connolly was all right this evening?’
‘Probably had one too many whiskies,’ his boss said. ‘He’ll be all right.’
Billy nodded and wished him goodnight and set off in the same direction as Mr Connolly had taken earlier. He was thoughtful, his mind dwelling on how soon the extra money he was saving would amount to enough to pay for a decent place for him and Mary Ellen to live in, when he heard the shouts and a cry for help.
Dashing forward, Billy saw the fight going on. One man was being attacked by three rough types and he was getting a beating. Without hesitation, Billy charged in and started throwing punches. He knocked
the first ruffian down and had the second one on his knees before they knew what had happened. He was just about to go for the third when they heard the police whistle and the thugs turned tail and ran, leaving the man Billy had knocked out lying on the ground.
‘Are you all right, sir?’ Billy turned to the man who’d been attacked. ‘Mr Connolly, sir. I didn’t know it was you—’
Before he could say more three policemen arrived on the scene, truncheons at the ready. One of them grabbed Billy by the arm, apparently believing he’d been one of the rogues who had attacked Mr Connolly. Another bent over the man on the ground, who was just stirring, while the third inquired after the victim.
‘Are you hurt, Mr Connolly?’ he asked. ‘We’ll see that these two pay for what they’ve done. Take him away.’
‘It wasn’t me,’ Billy protested. ‘I was trying to help—’
‘Leave Billy,’ Mr Connolly said as he began to breathe more easily. ‘They would’ve finished me if it hadn’t been for his timely arrival – the one on the ground is a thief. I dismissed him for stealing from me and this is what he did to get his own back.’
The police constable reluctantly let go of Billy, still looking at him suspiciously. He would clearly have been in trouble if Mr Connolly hadn’t spoken up for him.
‘Shall we call for an ambulance?’ one of them asked.
‘No, I don’t think so …’ Mr Connolly began but then swayed and Billy caught him, propping him up.
‘You’d better take him in,’ he said. ‘I think he’s been cut; he’s bleeding …’ He looked at himself and saw that his own hand was bleeding. ‘It’s all right, Mr Connolly, I’ll come with you. You need treatment, and so do I, sir.’
‘Yes, all right, thank you,’ he said and clung to Billy’s arm. ‘I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t …’ He gave a little moan and passed out, Billy supporting him to the ground and then quickly folding his jacket to put under Mr Connolly’s head.
