by Pam Weaver
‘I never did work out why Reg killed your chickens,’ said John.
‘Who can understand a warped mind like Reg’s,’ Dottie observed.
The Royal Alexander Hospital for Sick Children was in Dyke Road, Brighton. They parked the car and walked quickly to the ward where Patsy was.
‘Do you think she’ll blame me?’ Dottie asked.
‘I don’t think so,’ he assured her. ‘No, not at all.’
All the same, Dottie’s hands were trembling and her knees like jelly by the time they’d made themselves known at the desk.
‘Ah, yes,’ said the sister. ‘Nurse Doughty is just getting her dressed.’
There was a footfall in the corridor, and Patsy cried out, ‘Uncle John, Uncle John.’
They turned and there she was. A little pale, but she was beaming from ear to ear and clutching Suzy, her toy elephant. John put his arms out and she ran to him. Dottie smiled as he swept her off her feet and twirled around. Then she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and buried her head in the folds of his coat.
‘Come on now, young lady,’ said John. ‘Let’s get you home.’
Patsy pulled away from him. ‘Where’s Auntie Dottie?’
‘I’m here, love,’ Dottie squeaked. Her throat had closed and she could hardly speak.
Patsy reached around and put out her arms towards Dottie. Dottie took her from John and hugged her tightly. Oh, the joy to have her in her arms once more! Dottie’s eyes brimmed with tears and she let out an involuntary sob.
Patsy leaned back and looked at her with a puzzled expression. ‘Auntie Dottie, why are you crying?’
‘Because I’m so happy to see you,’ Dottie laughed.
Patsy put her hands on either side of Dottie’s face. ‘Don’t cry. I was all right. I had Suzy to look after me.’
‘Of course, how silly of me to worry,’ said Dottie, swallowing hard. She took a deep breath. ‘Come on. Uncle John is taking us home.’
As Dottie put her back on the floor, Patsy looked around anxiously. ‘Where’s Uncle Reg?’
Dottie stiffened. ‘Uncle Reg has gone away,’ she said.
‘Is he coming back?’
‘No.’
‘Not ever?’
‘Not ever.’
‘Good,’ said Patsy, as she skipped towards the door. ‘I don’t like that daddy.’
Forty-Six
They reached Mary’s house just as the baker’s boy was making a delivery.
‘Are we going to live with Auntie Mary?’ asked Patsy.
‘No, we’re going home,’ said Dottie, ‘but we thought you’d like to see your friends first.’
Maureen and Susan emerged from the house and rushed down the path, crying, ‘Patsy, Patsy …’
Billy hung back by the door. He had his hands in his pockets. He kicked an imaginary stone on the step as he watched his sisters jumping around Patsy. Dottie noticed a slight smile playing on his lips.
‘Hello, Billy,’ said Patsy. ‘I’ve been in hospital.’
Billy stuffed his hands deep into his pockets. ‘You all right now?’
He dug out a sweet and handed it to her. ‘I’ve been saving it for you,’ he said. ‘It’s got a bit of fluff on it, but I ain’t sucked it, honest.’
Patsy laughed. ‘Thanks,’ she said, popping it in her mouth.
As they walked in the door, Mary handed Dottie five pounds.
‘What’s that for?’
‘Gerald brought it round. It’s what he got for the pig.’ She grinned, ‘Minus a bit of commission.’
Dottie laughed.
There was a white box on the kitchen table. ‘This has just come for you.’
Maureen and Susan edged up to them. When Dottie lifted the lid she gasped. It was a cake covered in pink and white icing with a large pink rose on the top.
John caught his breath. ‘Where did that come from?’
Maureen beamed. ‘Patsy done it, didn’t you, Pats?’
Patsy frowned crossly. ‘O-oh! It was supposed to be for the ’prise party.’
Maureen’s smile died and she looked apprehensive.
‘Ummm,’ Susan said to her sister. ‘You shouldn’t have told.’
‘Where did the cake come from?’ Dottie asked gently.
Susan and Patsy went red and stared at the floor.
‘Me and Patsy went to the cake shop,’ Maureen piped up. ‘Patsy said for it to come today and the lady wrote it all down.’
‘But how did you pay for it, love?’ asked Dottie. ‘You don’t have any money.’
‘Are you cross with me?’ Patsy asked.
Dottie crouched down. ‘Of course not, love,’ she said. ‘It’s the nicest thing anyone ever gave me.’ She opened her arms and Patsy went to her.
‘Patsy used a whole pound note,’ said Maureen. ‘Didn’t you, Pats? She got it off that old lady.’
‘My mother,’ whispered John. ‘Remember …?’
Then Dottie remembered Laura giving the child a pound note that first day they went to the cottage. Buy something special, Laura had told the child – and she’d spent every last penny on a cake for her! Immediately the tears sprang into her eyes and she had a lump in her throat the size of a grapefruit. Her heart was overwhelmed with love for this beautiful child.
‘Come on, you two,’ said Mary briskly, putting her hands in the small of her daughters’ backs. ‘Come out to the kitchen with me.’
‘Maureen told Patsy about the party, Mum,’ said Susan.
‘I never!’ Maureen protested.
‘Oh yes, you did … I said you’d get told off.’
‘I never, Mum,’ Maureen insisted.
‘It’s all right, m’duck. Nobody’s cross with you.’ Their voices faded as Mary closed the door.
Dottie reached for her handkerchief. ‘Auntie Laura meant you to have that money for yourself, darling,’ she said dabbing her eyes. ‘But thank you for doing that. It’s lovely.’
‘Can I have some?’
Dottie laughed. ‘Of course you can.’
Patsy wriggled out of Dottie’s arms. ‘Can I go and play with Maureen now?’
Dottie stood up. ‘Off you go then.’
She hurried out of the room and in a short while Dottie could hear the girls giggling. Dottie looked down at the cake again.
‘Oh John, I’ve been an absolute idiot. I didn’t really want her in the first place but Patsy is such a lovely child. And I wanted so much to believe that Reg would come round. I kept thinking, perhaps not today, but there’s always tomorrow.’ She broke off and looked away.
‘Everyone was fooled,’ said John softly. ‘It’s not your fault that you always look for the good in people.’
‘I married a monster.’
‘Ah, there’s one more thing I haven’t told you,’ said John cautiously. ‘I’m not sure if you even realise, but you two were never even married.’
She frowned.
‘Because he used a false name, that makes your marriage null and void,’ said John. ‘And besides, he already has a wife under his real name.’
Dottie raised an eyebrow.
‘That woman he had in your house,’ said John, ‘his accomplice. Her name is Joyce Sinclair.’
Dottie let out a hollow laugh. ‘How ironic,’ she said harshly. ‘All I ever wanted was to be a respectable married woman with a family. Now I turn out to be the bigamous wife of a would-be murderer. How far from respectable can you get?’
‘None of this is your fault,’ said John.
‘Do you think they’ll ever catch him?’
‘He’s as slippery as an eel, that one,’ said John. ‘Only one thing is for sure, he’ll be far, far away by now.’
Dottie’s chin quivered as she ran her finger along the top of the cake. She sighed. ‘What a lovely thing to do.’
They were interrupted by a knock at the door. ‘Can we come in, Uncle John?’
John grinned. ‘I suppose they have been waiting a very long time,’ he said glancing
at his watch. ‘At least fifteen seconds.’
‘More than a lifetime,’ she laughed.
She watched the children swarm over him. He was wonderfully patient and he’d make a terrific father one day. She glanced down at the inscription on the cake again, and for the first time in a very long time, she felt her heart soar.
The pink icing said it all. ‘For Mummy Dottie.’
In the week before Christmas, Mary, Edna, Ann and Peaches decided to go ahead with the welcome party. Christmas Day fell on the Tuesday and everybody agreed that after the usual family affair, they would gather in Edna’s barn for a barn dance and make it a Christmas to remember.
They spent Christmas Eve decorating the barn with paper chains.
‘Whoever thought up that idea deserves a medal,’ Mary declared. ‘It kept the kids quiet all day.’
Janet Cooper finally got rid of the box of balloons left over from the VJ Day celebrations. Gerald, Tom and Jack swept out the barn and Michael arranged some bales of straw around the edge for seating. By the time the caller arrived, the trestle tables borrowed from the village hall groaned with leftover Christmas fare and plenty more besides.
Patsy was very excited. She and the other children had been doing some country dancing at school and this was a wonderful opportunity to show off their skills. Even more thrilling, Dottie had given Patsy Aunt Bessie’s old cowboy hat to wear.
‘Where’s John?’ asked Mary as Dottie struggled through the door with a sherry trifle.
‘On duty.’
‘On Christmas Day?’
‘Somebody’s got to do it,’ smiled Dottie. ‘He said he’d try and come over later if everything was quiet, but I know he’s worried about a couple of pregnant patients.’
She and John had had a long talk soon after Patsy came out of hospital. John wasn’t too keen, but she’d persuaded him that she needed to be on her own for a bit. They were still seeing each other but, for the first time in her life, Dottie was making her own decisions and plans.
‘What a shame,’ Ann sighed. ‘After all we’ve been through, we should all be together tonight.’ Vince came up and handed her a milk stout. As she took it, he put his arm around her shoulders and she smiled up at him happily. ‘Everyone should be with the people they love at Christmas.’
Dottie and Mary exchanged a grin as they left them to it. Several kids playing kiss chase dashed through the straw bales. ‘Calm down,’ Mary shouted.
By the time Dottie got back home that night, it was very late. Patsy was so tired she struggled to walk up the path so Michael Gilbert swept her up in his arms and carried her indoors and upstairs to her bedroom. While Dottie undressed her, Michael went back to his truck to fetch the presents.
‘Are you sure you’re going to be all right here on your own?’ he asked.
‘Michael,’ Dottie chided gently. ‘I’m a big girl now and I can look after myself.’ But she knew why he was concerned.
Earlier in the evening, Mary had said anxiously, ‘I think you should stay here with us tonight, hen.’
‘Whatever for?’ cried Dottie. ‘As far as Reg knows, we’re still at Sylvie’s. Besides, coming back here would be the last thing he would do.’
‘I’m sure your John wouldn’t like you to be on your own,’ Ann cautioned.
‘John is a dear man,’ Dottie had said, ‘but I can make my own decisions. Stop worrying.’
Tom wasn’t so sure either. ‘Reg can be very vindictive, Dottie. I think you should do as Mary says.’
‘Thank you for your concern,’ said Dottie stiffly, ‘but really, there’s no need.’
Now that she was back home, Dottie didn’t like to admit she was a little nervous.
‘I’ll stay if you like,’ Michael said. ‘I can sleep on the sofa downstairs.’
Dottie smiled. ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Lock all the doors,’ Michael cautioned as he left.
‘I always do,’ Dottie smiled. She kissed his cheek. ‘Don’t you worry about me. You get your Freda home to bed. She looks all done in, poor girl.’
Before she went to bed, Dottie tidied up the toys and made herself a cocoa. Climbing the stairs to her room, she found that she was missing John. Having her independence was wonderful, but she wished he was here right now.
She opened the door slightly and listened to Patsy’s deep rhythmic breathing. It was like music to Dottie’s ears and she couldn’t resist creeping in and giving her a kiss on her forehead. Patsy stirred in her sleep. As quietly as she could, Dottie crept outside. She’d leave the toys until the morning. If she tidied them away in Patsy’s room, she might wake her. She put Aunt Bessie’s hat on the top of the pile and left them.
Back in her own room, she wished John was here once again. And if he was here … Humming to herself, she climbed into bed and turned out the light.
As soon as the door creaked open, Dottie held her breath. A tall figure was standing in the doorway with one hand on the latch. He waited, watching the bed for any sign of movement and then looked behind him towards the landing.
He stepped into the room and Dottie saw the glint of the knife in his hand. With one fluid movement, he was beside the bed and slashing at the bedclothes.
‘Bitch,’ he hissed. ‘Bloody bitch.’
Dottie didn’t move. Please, please, she prayed. Don’t let Patsy hear him, don’t let her wake up.
Dottie had known the minute she saw him that it was Reg. The others had been right. She wished to God she’d listened, but she hadn’t and now she’d put Patsy’s life in danger once again. A murderous intent had driven him back to the one place she honestly thought he’d never return. When she’d heard the key in the lock, she’d realised he’d got into the house the same way she had – he’d used the spare key under the mangle.
As soon as she’d heard him, something made her get out of bed and stuff the spare pillows under the bedclothes. She’d only just managed to stop the coat hangers rattling in the wardrobe where she was hiding as he’d come into the room. The door was shut, but she could watch his every move through the crack above the mirror.
A light went on outside and Patsy called out, ‘Mummy.’
Reg sprang like a cat towards the door. Dottie’s heart went into her mouth. He was after Patsy too. Stumbling out into the room, Dottie dashed onto the landing.
Patsy had opened her door wide and stood tousled-haired, rubbing her eyes in the doorway. When she looked up and saw Reg, she froze. Dottie’s heart was pounding but from deep within her she found a strong and commanding voice.
‘Patsy, go back into your room and shut the door … now!’
Patsy fled. Her door banged. Reg rounded on Dottie and his narrowed eyes seem to change colour. He was so terrifying, she thought she was going to faint.
‘I’m going to kill you, bitch,’ Reg snarled. ‘You’ve ruined my life. You and that bloody aunt of yours.’
Dottie could feel her knees knocking. ‘Did you kill Aunt Bessie?’
‘Of course I did,’ said Reg.
Dottie took in her breath.
‘You should have seen her face,’ Reg grinned. His eyes were bright with excitement. ‘She was standing right where you are now.’
Dottie’s knees went to jelly.
‘Didn’t take much. Just one little push.’
‘Why?’ Dottie squeaked.
‘The stupid cow found out I was still married.’ Reg kicked at Aunt Bessie’s hat and stamped on it. ‘Bloody bitch.’
Dottie trembled as Reg threw back his head and let out a hideous laugh. ‘Know what?’ he sneered. ‘She never touched one bloody stair all the way down.’
A door closed downstairs and they both looked down. John Landers and Kipper were standing in the small hallway.
‘So now we know, Reg,’ said Kipper. ‘That was as good a confession as I’ve ever heard.’
‘Dottie, be careful!’ John frantic cry coincided with Reg’s loud roar as he made a dash towards Dottie. He was still standing on Aunt Bes
sie’s hat and somehow the chinstrap had looped itself over his other foot. The little landing didn’t allow him much room for manoeuvre. Reg looked down, and lost his balance. For a couple of seconds, he flailed his arms, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from falling. He let out a single cry of panic before tumbling over the top stair and there was a sickening thud as he hit his head at the bottom. Dottie turned her head away.
In the ominous silence that followed, John leaned over him. ‘He’s dead,’ he said quietly. ‘His neck is broken.’
A small voice called from behind the bedroom door. ‘Mummy …’ And anxious that the child shouldn’t come out and see what had happened, Dottie dashed across the landing into Patsy’s room.
Forty-Seven
The first flurry of snow began as they drove out of Worthing. By the time they’d reached the turnoff for Yapton, it was beginning to settle. It was 1952, one year later and Christmas Eve. Dottie and John were on their way to pick up his mother for Christmas in the village. She’d left Patsy and the others back at Mary’s place, busy making mince pies for the carol service in St Andrew’s later that evening.
‘What a difference a year makes,’ John grinned.
Dottie nodded slowly, remembering last Christmas when Reg had broken into Myrtle Cottage and fallen down the stairs. Thank God John and the policeman had been there.
Kipper, anxious that Dottie would be in the house on her own, had rung John to tell him Reg had been spotted in the area. John was so frantic, he’d arranged for his colleague to cover for him while he drove over to Worthing to make sure that Dottie was all right.
The two of them had arrived just in time to see Reg enter the cottage. John was all for arresting him there and then but Kipper held back and as a result they’d heard Reg’s confession. When it was all over, Dottie was surprised that she felt no grief. In fact, she didn’t feel anything. She had been married to him and now he was gone.
The past twelve months had brought a complete change in all their circumstances. Gary was back home with Peaches and Jack and Mandy. He’d made such good progress he’d been able to shed the calliper, although he still walked with a slight limp. Everyone agreed he’d made an amazing recovery.
