by Maggie Hope
‘I’ll come in with you, if you like?’ Jeff offered. ‘I’ll explain.’
‘Oh, no, I’ll be all right. But what about you? Are you going straight home?’
‘I’m going to call on Alf Sharpe first,’ he replied grimly.
‘Look, come back here later, Mam’ll give you supper,’ Marina suggested. ‘I’d like to know if Rose is there, and what happened. Besides, it’s a long way back to Easington.’
‘Yes, I will. Thanks.’
Just as Marina had thought, Kate was stotting mad.
‘Why didn’t you say where you were going? You know how I hate to waste food and I’d made you a hot pot. It’ll be ruined now. I’ve been sitting here, with your dad at work on night shift and Lance goodness knows where … I think he’s got a lass by the way … and I’ve been worried to death about where you were … By, our Marina, how could you be so thoughtless?’
‘I’m sorry. I am, Mam. But I thought I’d be back sooner.’
She hardly had the story told when there was a knock at the door and Jeff was back and if anyone looked worried to death it was him.
‘Alf Sharpe’s not there, Marina,’ he said after greeting Kate. ‘No one’s there at all. The house is as empty as his sister’s.’
‘But Rose has to be there!’ cried Marina. ‘Where is she, Jeff?’
Chapter Eighteen
There is someone knocking, the sound is very faint but insistent. Rose struggles but no matter how hard she tries she cannot move. She must move, she must get to the door to let him in, the children are depending on her. Mary is in terrible danger; Rose knows it but Mary doesn’t. She is in the corner cupboard, playing with her dolly. The door is slightly open and she looks through the gap at Rose then scrambles to her feet.
‘No! Don’t come, stay there, Mary,’ Rose is shouting but no sound is coming from her. Dear God, help me, she prays. Don’t let them go away. Michael … where are you, Michael? Answer the door, Michael, please. But Michael isn’t there, he is in the cupboard with Mary. He pulls the door to. Yes, that’s right, Michael, hide.
Rose struggles to move, to get away from the figures hovering over her. If she could only move her little finger, that’s it, concentrate on moving a finger, a hand, anything.
‘God in heaven, why did you do that?’
A woman’s voice, she knows it, it’s … no, the knowledge of who it is is elusive, on the edge of her mind, but whoever it is, it’s not the woman who is threatening her, Rose is sure of that. Help me, please, she begs silently, and a pain rips through her body, a pain such as she has never experienced before, a sharp, burning pain. The man leans forward. He has a knife, that’s what it is, he’s cutting into her stomach, killing her, and after that he will kill Mary …
Rose screams, the sound loud and shrill in her ears, shocking in its terrible intensity. But it won’t go past her mouth, except for a low moan. The man puts a hand over her mouth, she can’t breathe, she is slipping away. A nightmare, that’s what it is, only a nightmare, a voice inside her head is saying, calming, peaceful. Sleep now.
‘She’s dying,’ said Elsie. She was weeping and staring at her hands in horror. They were covered in blood. There was a terrible mess in the bed, great clots of blood and a watery substance. ‘Alf, Alf!’ she sobbed. ‘Go away and let me clean the poor lass up. You should have let me get the doctor –’
‘Don’t be so flaming soft! We can’t have a doctor poking his nose in here. You’d lose the bairns then, I can tell you. We’d both likely end up in Durham gaol an’ all. You can see to her, can’t you? You’ve had plenty of miscarriages in your time, you know what goes on.’
‘She’s lost too much blood, Alf, I’m frightened. What am I going to do?’
Elsie was shaking but she scooped the mess on to newspaper with her hands, trembling as she touched the slimy stuff, bundling it quickly into a parcel, glad to have it hidden from her sight.
‘Give it here, I’ll put it on the kitchen fire.’ Her brother took his hand away from Rose’s face and snatched the bundle and headed off down the stairs. As he did so Rose’s head dropped to the side, her mouth fell open and Elsie jumped back as a low sound came from deep in her niece’s throat. The figure on the bed was still, quiet, the eyes not quite shut.
‘I’m sorry, Rose,’ said Elsie. ‘I am, really. But I have to do it. I have to for the sake of the bairns, you know that.’
She started to change the bed then stopped and drew the covers up over Rose. She hardly knew what she was doing. This was the second night of horror. People had been knocking on the door, she was terrified Mrs Todd had heard something. Elsie had had no sleep for almost forty-eight hours and felt as though her head was about to burst but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep again. She stood by the bed, her hands hanging by her side, the stench of blood and urine in her nostrils. Everything was unreal, she thought, she was floating, swimming in a dark, murky nightmare. But it was all for the twins, she had to remember that. It was all for the sake of the twins.
How long ago was it that she had seen them, sent them off to school? It seemed like years. She marvelled at how they had stayed asleep through all the long night before, not hearing anything, accepting the story she told them of how Rose had gone home with their father. How normal she had been when she had asked Mrs Todd to see to them, said she had to go to visit a dying relative, a cousin, see to her. Well, it was true in a way, wasn’t it? The twins had accepted that story too. They had gone obediently to Mrs Todd, it was a small adventure for them. She had kissed them goodbye, the skin of their cheeks warm and soft on her lips.
She and Alf had been lucky so far. Of course, the luck might not last. How could it? There was still Rose, though there was no longer the shame of a baby coming. Rose wouldn’t tell, even if she lived.
Elsie looked at her, lying there, white and still. There was no more bleeding. Did that mean she was dead already? She bent to the bed, her ear to Rose’s lips. Could she hear anything, feel breath on her cheek? If Rose was dead and they were found out and she and Alf went to gaol, what would happen to the twins? It would be all for nothing, then!
‘Alf, Alf, why did you have to do it?’ she moaned and began trembling again.
‘Pull yourself together, Elsie. You’re standing there like a gormless fool! Come on, I’ve worked out what I’m going to do. Howay now, you have to help me.’
Elsie jumped, her heart beat wildly, painfully, in her chest. She hadn’t heard him come back into the bedroom.
‘What? What do you mean? Oh, Alf, I think the poor lass has gone. Eeh, you shouldn’t have done it, Alf, you shouldn’t have. What did you hit her for? Alf, Alf …’ Her voice was rising out of control and he grabbed her by the upper arms and shook her until she broke off and stared at him, frightened for herself now, eyes large and uncomprehending in her white face.
‘Stop that. Damn well stop it! Now!’
‘Don’t hit me, Alf,’ she whimpered, shrinking.
‘I’m not bloody well going to hit you,’ he snapped impatiently. ‘Now come on! Wrap her up in an old sheet or something. No, I’ve changed my mind. Put her clothes on, her coat an’ all. We’re taking her out of here.’
‘But someone will see!’
‘No, they won’t. The night-shift men are home by now, the fore-shift ones already away. The place is quiet, this is the best time to do it.’
Between them they struggled to dress Rose’s unresisting body. Her head sagged on her chest; her arms flopped like a rag doll’s, would go in any direction but the armholes of her coat. Alf swore.
At last she was ready. He crammed her shoes on to her feet and picked her up in his arms. She was light as a doll too, thin and bony. Her shoulder bone stuck uncomfortably into his chest. He hoisted her higher.
‘Why, aye, look,’ he said to his sister, ‘I can manage her fine. You stay here and clean up. I won’t come back, it’ll be dawn in an hour or two.’
‘But, Alf, what am I going to do? What if someone asks
…’
‘Flaming hell, woman, you always were a bloody fool! Say nowt! Didn’t you tell that woman next door that me and Rose had gone home? Then why is anybody going to ask you anything?’
‘But, Alf –’
‘Buck up, will you? I can’t stand here all morning holding her. Get out of my way!’ He shoved her aside with his free shoulder and went down the dark stairs, surefooted, used to the dark of the pit. She followed him, weeping quietly, stood with the door open looking out, long after he had disappeared down the street.
It was very dark now, the few street lights out. Suddenly a light appeared at the bedroom window next door.
‘Who’s that? Say who you are now or I’ll get the polis!’
Elsie froze, unable to speak, her tears turned off like a tap.
‘George? George? Run for the polis, now. There’s a burglar next door.’
‘No, Mrs Todd,’ Elsie found her voice. ‘No, it’s me, I came home early, me cousin’s better.’ She scrabbled around for a reason why she should come home so early in the morning. ‘I’ll be here to make the bairns their breakfast, Mrs Todd, I won’t have to bother you with that. Thanks for everything.’ She sagged against the door frame.
‘Eeh, I’m glad it’s you! I was getting worried, I thought I heard something before. It would just be you coming in, was it? Well, I’ll get back to bed. There’s two hours yet before I have to get up.’
‘Yes. Sorry I woke you,’ said Elsie, and forced her reluctant legs to carry her inside. Shutting the door behind her she leaned against it and closed her eyes for a minute. Then she gathered up a bowl of hot water and some cleaning rags. She would concentrate on that, keep her mind off whatever Alf was doing.
Rose was cold, very very cold. She turned over on to her side. The bed was hard, that was the trouble with camp beds. Aunt Elsie still hadn’t got her another bed. She must have lost her pillow and there was a dull throbbing ache at the pit of her stomach. A period pain? A bad one. She turned over on to her back and a sharper pain shot through her. She cried out and a weight landed on her. She caught her breath in agony.
‘Get off, Michael,’ she tried to shout but it came out in only a whisper. A tongue licked her cheek. She opened her eyes in shock. An inch or so from her face a pair of large brown eyes looked into hers, a silky ear brushed against her cheek. She flailed weakly with her arms and managed to dislodge the spaniel from her stomach. Where on earth was she? Bewildered she tried to sit up but to her surprise found herself unable to. Weakly she tried to push herself up on her elbows but her arms wouldn’t work properly, they wouldn’t hold her. The effort exhausted her she felt herself sinking into a black hole.
‘Come here, Trix. Here, I’m telling you!’ a man’s voice shouted from a very long way away. ‘What’s that you’ve found?’ The light returned temporarily. There was a man and he was right beside her, a grey-haired man with a white scarf tied round his neck. He leaned over her.
‘Bloody hell!’ he exclaimed. And, ‘Get off, Trix, get back, I say! Eeh, lass, what the heck happened to you?’
Rose opened her mouth to tell him she hadn’t the slightest idea but the blackness was coming back, drowning out the sunshine which was filtering through the leaves of the tree above her.
‘Hang on, lass, hang on,’ said the man, though she didn’t hear him. He slipped the lead on his dog and tied her to a bush then took off his mac and wrapped it round Rose. His white scarf next. He folded it and put it under her head, careful to move her as little as possible. He was a deputy at the pit and a member of the St John’s Ambulance Brigade, with medals and bars to his credit, trained to deal with accidents. Though the lass didn’t seem to have broken anything so far as he could tell. Had she lain out here all night?
‘Stay here,’ he ordered the dog, and she gave a small bark and sat down obediently. Satisfied he’d done all he could for the minute, the man got to his feet and ran up the side of the wooded incline of the dene, panting as he reached the top. Too many tabs, he told himself. He would have to cut down on the cigarettes, that was for sure.
It was a fair way along the path to the road but he didn’t have to go all the way. A mate was just turning into the dene with his whippet.
‘Call an ambulance, Jimmy!’ the first man shouted. ‘There’s a lass here, and mind, she’s in a bad way an’ all.’
He hardly waited for an acknowledgement, was well acquainted with the owner of the whippet who would waste no time in getting to the phone box. He hurried back to the girl and bent anxiously over her.
It was warm in the bed; deliriously, gorgeously, luxuriously warm. It was the first thing Rose was aware of as she dragged herself out of the blackness. Through her eyelids she saw the brightness of the sun above her. No, that couldn’t be right, how could she be in bed and under the sun? She struggled to open her eyes.
The bright light was electric. There was a row of them, stretching away down a ward. Her arm was tied to a board and there was a needle in it. It pricked when she moved.
‘Keep still now,’ a soft voice warned and she turned her head and there was a nurse in a navy-blue dress and white apron, one of those funny caps on her head. Rose stared at her, speechless.
‘Would you like a little drink?’ the nurse asked, and Rose nodded. The nurse held her head up from the pillow with one hand and a glass to her lips with the other. Rose drank greedily until the glass was taken away. It was orange juice, reconstituted like the ‘baby’ orange which was issued to infants since the National Health came in.
‘Where am I?’ Rose asked, her voice coming out croaky. She cleared her throat weakly.
‘The Cameron,’ the nurse replied. ‘Lie quiet now, I’ll fetch the doctor.’
The Cameron? What and where was the Cameron? Rose wondered. But she didn’t really care. She was here in a warm bed and the drink had been delicious. She had an ache in her stomach but it wasn’t too bad. It had been worse, much worse when … Weak tears ran down her cheeks. She rubbed at them with her free hand. She stopped thinking about then, now was all right. Now she was safe and warm and there was the nice nurse to help her.
‘So you’ve decided to join us, have you, young lady?’ The voice was young and jolly and kind. Oh, yes, the doctor, she remembered. The nurse had said he was coming. ‘I’m Dr Morris. How do you feel now?’ he asked, automatically feeling her pulse, looking at the drip in her arm, making notes on the clipboard he held.
‘Better,’ she said and he nodded, smiling professionally, and hooked a foot under a chair and pulled it to the side of the bed so he could sit down. A nurse came hurrying up with a screen.
‘Never mind that now,’ said the doctor, ‘I’m just taking notes.’ Rose watched him. He was shining clean, red hair brushed back from his freckled face, nails manicured short, white at the edges. She curled her own uneven nails out of sight.
‘First of all, we need to know who you are. You hadn’t an identity card on you when you were found.’
‘Found?’
‘In Shotton Dene. Can’t you remember?’
Oh, yes. The grass, the spaniel, the grey-haired man.
‘I didn’t know where it was.’
‘What do you remember?’
Rose was silent. She remembered her dad. Oh, yes, she remembered him hitting her in the stomach and the pain. She remembered Aunt Elsie’s white face, staring as she fell.
‘Your name then, that’ll be a start.’
‘I don’t remember.’
Dr Morris sighed. ‘Come on now, I know you hurt your head but it’s not too serious. Are you sure you don’t remember?’
‘I don’t. And my head is aching, there’s a bump here, look …’
‘I know. You were examined thoroughly when you were brought in.’ He decided on a more direct approach. ‘You know you have lost the baby?’
The baby! Her hand went to her stomach. It felt sore, tender. Rose turned her eyes away from him. All she could feel was an overwhelming relief. Instinctively she knew she
shouldn’t let him see that.
His voice hardened. ‘Did you do something to yourself, is that it? You know it’s an offence to try to abort a baby?’
Tears began to roll from her eyes silently and he stood up immediately, changing tactic again.
‘Look, I don’t think you did but I had to ask, it’s the law. Lie quiet now, you have a bad bruise in the abdominal area. Staff Nurse will bring you some broth shortly. It’s past suppertime but I’m sure she’ll find some in the kitchens. Then you can have a tablet and get some rest. That’s what you need now. We’ll talk in the morning.’
She watched him disappear down the corridor, go into a room to one side, heard his voice faintly. He was talking it over with someone. If they thought she’d done it herself, the police would come, she knew, and she would be arrested. Maybe that was right, she should be punished.
The nurse brought chicken broth. Rose didn’t think she would be able to take any but it was delicious. The nurse was cheerful, eyes full of sympathy when Rose could bring herself to look her in her face, for she’d expected condemnation.
The nurse spooned the broth into her mouth, talking softly all the time. The lights in the rest of the ward were already dimmed, the patients quiet under the covers.
‘My name is Staff Nurse Benton. Rosalie Benton,’ she said.
‘Oh! I’m called … emm, Lily.’ Now why did she say that? It was stupid. But she had to give some name and Lily was as good as anything. The staff nurse looked pleased.
Rose took all the broth, and a cup of tea afterwards with a small pink tablet. Her head throbbed, her abdomen hurt, her arm ached. But she lay down on the pillow and gradually everything faded away and she slept.
Chapter Nineteen
‘I don’t know, Brian, I really don’t know what to do,’ said Marina. ‘If she’s not at Shotton and she’s not here in Jordan, where is she?’
‘We’ll find her. Girls don’t just disappear, not in this day and age,’ he replied. ‘Jeff had to go back to Easington, but you know him. He won’t rest until he finds her.’
