Daniel's Story

by Paul Kelly

  "Try not to worry, Rosie. It's always darkest before the dawn," she said and thought again of the 'philosophy exercises' she had played out at Daniel's flat.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Alison couldn't wait to check the voices on her tape recorder as soon as she got back to her flat. She fumbled nervously, pushing the plug into the socket on the wall of her little kitchen and eventually got a peculiar sound coming from the machine, which alarmed her. Her first thoughts were that the tape recorder had failed to pick up any sounds at all, as she couldn't hear anything that resembled the conversation in Daniel's flat that fateful day when Frieda was throwing her weight about. She pulled the plug from the socket and tried again, but with the same results and she began to despair.

  Could it be a fuse? Could it be that the tape in the recorder was obsolete? ... or was it not more likely that the little machine had past its sell by date? It could be anything, she thought as she started to shake nervously and it was then that she realized just how important this recording was to her ... and to Daniel, of course.

  Resolutely, she pulled the plug from the wall and transferred it to another wall socket in her lounge. Within seconds, she could hear a purring sound and then the muffled voice of Daniel saying, "I told you I had never ever struck a woman ... but ..."

  At this point Alison pushed the forward button on the recorder until she could hear the shrill voice of Frieda, coming through like something from a 'chipmonk' series on the radio ...

  It was there alright. She had the evidence she required and she knew then that the woman who spoke to her from Ken's flat the evening before, definitely was the woman she suspected it to be.

  As she unplugged the tape recorder and stuck it in her handbag, she thought about Rosie ... If her friend from the cafe could hear another woman's voice in Ken's flat , then maybe she would reconsider the love she had for this man, but as she was contemplating her next move, the telephone rang and she jumped.

  "Hello, is that you Alison?"

  Alison recognised Rosie's voice at once.

  "Of course it's me, who else did you think it was?"

  "Alison, I'm sorry to ring you so early in the morning, but ...”

  Alison looked at her wrist watch.

  "It's nearly eleven o'clock, Rosie. I wouldn't call this early, but what can I do for you?"

  "Alison, I think I have had an accident I've ..." Alison stared at the telephone as if it would speak back to her and tell her she wasn't hearing correctly, but Rosie went on. "I've had a bleed, Alison and I think I've had a miscarriage."

  Alison stared again at the telephone, sure that she had some hearing defect, but it only took a second for her to realize what had happened and what she had to do about it.

  "Have you got onto the clinic?"

  "Well, no I didn't need to. About an hour ago one of the midwives came to see me and thank God she did, as I didn't expect her or anyone from the clinic, but she says everything is O.K. now, but I had an awful lot of pain and ... Alison she‘s gone now, but she‘s coming back again later.”

  "Are you ... Yes, you must be at your flat, Rosie. Stay there and don't move. I'll be round in a jiffy. Bye."

  She threw an old shawl around her shoulders and made her way to Rosie's flat with wandering thoughts on her mind. It was sad for Rosie to go through all this torture for such a swine as Ken Royle, but on the other hand, this could mean that she could get him out of her life forever. Tell him to fuck off and have as many woman as he wanted, but then Alison remembered that she had never told Rosie about the mystery voice coming from Ken's flat when she phoned him that night. It would do no good telling her of that incident now, she thought ... or would it?

  When she arrived at Rosie's flat, Alison found her friend in tears, but she had a visitor. A lady who was washing her hands in the kitchen.

  "Good morning," said Alison, "I am a friend of Rosie, Can I ask who you are please?"

  The visitor looked casually at Alison as she continued to wash her hands.

  "Yes, I am Nurse Caulfield. I am a midwife and I suppose you must be the friend that Rosie was telephoning earlier, yes?"

  "Yes, my name is Alison ... Alison Ford, but what is happening to Rosie?"

  The midwife dried her hands on a towel from the bathroom and sighed heavily as if she had been asked this question so many times before, but she did not answer Alison's question and she asked again. "Is Rosie alright now? I expect everything has been done for her, now that you are here."

  The midwife continued to dry her hands and seemed to have avoided Alison's question.

  "I am asking you a question," said Alison sharply, as she looked across the room to where Rosie was sitting,"and I would like an answer please?"

  Again the midwife appeared to have heard nothing as she turned to Rosie and put out her hand for Rosie to speak. Alison looked at Rosie in confusion.

  "I'm alright now," said Rosie as she dried her eyes on her handkerchief. "There is no cause for alarm."

  Alison grunted her concern as she turned to speak to Rosie.

  "No need for alarm? You phone me and tell me you've had an accident ... a suspected miscarriage and now you tell me that everything is O.K. and there is no need for alarm. Rosie, I am your friend. I am worried about you, so please tell me what has happened?"

  The midwife started to put her coat on and moved towards the street door.

  "I'll leave you now Rosie," she said calmly as she was leaving and with that, she left the flat without taking any notice of Alison, who was left standing in the darkened room where Rosie was lying.

  "I'll open these curtains now then, It's nearly midday and you're still in the dark. What the hell is going on Rosie? Rosie, I am asking you again, What is going on?"

  Rosie hung her head as she spoke.

  "I think I have lost the baby," she said, "Well, I'm sure I have. There is nothing left now,"

  "I think I have gathered that, but HOW and WHEN?" demanded Alison sharply and Rosie looked away for a moment before she answered.

  "I think it was from the time when Ken hit me in the street, the other night. I felt strange when I got home after that, but I had been having strange feelings even before that incident, so I can't be sure."

  Alison pushed her hair back from her face.

  "I don't know what to say, Rosie. If what you think is correct, then Ken should be arrested for attempted murder," she snapped, knowing that her explanation was probably a little far fetched, but she was very anxious for her friend and she would put nothing past her ex-husband where women were concerned. He was a bastard alright and was capable of doing anything that interfered with his own equilibrium. His life must go on without interference of any kind. That was the motto for Ken Royle.

  "In one sense, I am glad, but I am also very sad for the little one," said Rosie and before Alison could say another word, Rosie went on. "I saw Ken with another woman the other night, Alison. He was crawling all over her in the pub next door to the cafe. You know the one, the Century Arms ... well I had to go there to get some more crisps for old bossyboots. His stock had run out, you see. I think this 'tart' must have been a bar maid as she was very scantily clothed. Hardly how you’d expect an ordinary woman in the street to dress if she just some other woman, walking around outside the pub"

  "Did you see her face?"

  "Well no ... Not exactly. She was wearing thick make up but who takes much notice of a bar maid?"

  Alison wasn't at all surprised at what Rosie had told her, but she took her friend's hand in her own to console her.

  "Was that last Friday, do you remember, Rosie? Would you know her again, if you saw her? This bar maid, I mean?"

  Rosie went into one of her reflective moods, but shook her head.

  "Yes, it was last Friday alright, but I wasn't interested in her face, al
though she had thick make up on, as I have already said and that's what made me think she might be a tart, but some bar maids make their faces up heavily too, don't they?"

  "Try not to worry too much, Rosie. I understand what you mean when you say you could be glad that this has happened. It would have been a very different matter if you had really wanted this baby with a partner that you loved and trusted, but what sort of a life would you have had if things had been different? Do you think now that Ken would have been 'attentive' to you as he said he would be"

  Rosie smiled and shrugged her shoulders, ignoring Alison’s question.

  "I wish you could have seen the woman he was with Alison. She was a tart ... There is nothing else you could have called her and God knows what sort of disease she might be carrying. I could have been a lot worse off if anything of that nature had happened to me, couldn't I?"

  Alison stopped still for a moment when Rosie said that to her.

  "Rosie. Did that midwife examine you when she was here?" she asked and Rosie nodded. "Did she tell you that everything was O.K. after she examined you?"

  Rosie looked about her trying to recollect her memory of the situation which she had desperately tried to forget.

  "She was very quiet and I think she realised more than I thought was happening, as she moved into the kitchen quickly and came back with some towels and a wad of cotton wool. That's all I know."

  Alison scratched her forehead and sat down on a chair beside Rosie.

  "She surely must have written up some notes?" she enquired and again Rosie nodded, but she didn't say anything for a few moments.

  "She was more interested in washing her hands," said Rosie. "I didn't see any notes, but then I was so worried, she could have done something like that. She was here for quite a little while."

  "Was she here when you phoned me this morning?" asked Alison and Rosie had to take time to think.

  "No ... Yes she was ... because she made the call for me and then handed me the phone to speak to you."

  "And how long before that did you call for her help?

  "I didn't call for help Alison. The midwife came back a little while after that, but as I have said, it was like an act of God as I was in pain and I thought something might have been wrong, even if I didn't expect this."

  "And what state were you in then, Rosie. I mean, were you showing signs of bleeding?"

  "No. The bleeding started a little after the midwife came and then within a few minutes, I bled quite a lot. That's when she went to get the towels"

  "Are you sure you saw no sign of bleeding, before that woman came to the flat, Rosie?"

  "No ... No, I don't think so. I had a lot of pain, but that was all. Why?"

  "What was her name again? Do you remember?"

  Rosie thought for a few moments again. She knew her mind was rather muddled when the midwife was with her and her brain wasn't functioning properly.

  "I think it was Nurse Co ... something or other. Yes, that's right ... It was ... It was Caulfield, Nurse Caulfield, that's it. I remember now, but why does her name matter?"

  "I don't think she was very communicative for a midwife. What did you think?"

  "Well, she didn't say much to me either." Rosie closed her eyes and looked very tired.

  "And you say you never phoned the clinic for help, yes? What clinic was this Rosie?"

  "It's the clinic I have been attending ever since I first knew I was pregnant. You know, that one in Denver Street, quite near the cafe."

  Alison made a mental note even if she didn't have a clue where this clinic was, but with the name of the street, she would soon find it.

  "Well, if you are O.K. now, darling, I'll get off, but are you sure there isn't anything I can do before I go?"

  Rosie assured Alison that she would be alright, now that she was 'cleaned up' as she put it and her troubles were over.

  "I hope all will be well from now on, Rosie, Bye." Alison knew what she had to do next and also to try to find out where the infamous Frieda was living.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Alison wracked her brains to solve the problem that she had on her mind. The midwife who wouldn't speak to her, troubled her. After all, there was no crime in what Rosie was going through ... or was there? The more she thought about the midwife's visit, the more puzzled she became, as she lifted the telephone.

  "Directory enquiries?" she asked as a young, very sweet voice came through on the other end of the line.

  "Yes madam, how can I help you?"

  Alison looked to the ceiling for guidance as she spoke again into the phone.

  "I think I am looking for a needle in a haystack, but I hope you can help," she said, "I want to find a clinic, possibly an ante natal clinic in Denver Street and I think it is attached to the Northfield Hospital, but I can‘t be sure" Alison felt sure she was making the right move and that the clinic was indeed attached to the hospital, but she had to be absolutely sure of her facts on this particular occasion.

  "That is Denver Street in London, is it madam?"

  "Yes, of course it's London."

  There were a few seconds’ silence before the sweet young voice came through again.

  "The number will come through to you now, madam. Goodbye."

  Alison waited until she could hear a voice again where she took the number that was given to her on her phone pad.

  "Hello, is that the Denver Street clinic?"

  "Yes, how can I help you?"

  "Thank you. I want to speak to Nurse Caulfield, please."

  Again there was a protracted silence before she got her answer.

  "Nurse Caulfield is not here at the moment. She is part-time agency staff. Would you like to leave a message for her?" Alison heard the message, but shewas stumped as to what to do next. "Well, no ... It's rather personal," she said " Could you let me have a number where I can reach her please?"

  "I'm sorry, we are not allowed to give out the private telephone numbers of any of our staff and that includes agency staff as well."

  "Well could you tell me if Nurse Caulfield was called out to an emergency case this morning, round about 8.30?"

  There was more silence as Alison could hear pages being turned vigorously. It seemed the Receptionist was weary of enquiries ...

  "There is nothing on record here." came the reply, "Why are you asking me this question?"

  Alison grinned.

  "Thanks, I don't need to know any more," she replied, knowing that she had got what she wanted, even if the Receptionist wouldn't have told her the name of the person who received the treatment, if she had asked. It would be unlikely that there were two pregnant women who needed emergency treatment at that time of the morning anyway ...and by the same name as Rosie ... but what was a midwife doing in Rosie's area so soon when she needed medical attention ... and where would she go next. Alison was sure there was some strange connection between this nurse and someone else who knew Rosie, but how could she prove it and how could she know that she wasn't barking up a gum tree? After all it was a long shot, but the puzzle wouldn't leave her mind and she decided she would go out on a limb to get the information she needed. Again, she knew it was a long shot, but well ... any port in a storm. She wracked her brains to think of the name of the pub where Rosie had to get the potato crisps, but her memory failed her and she walked around her lounge thumping her forehead with her fist, thinking that would surely wake her memory up. "Got it," she gasped at last.

  "Hello is that the Century?" she asked politely and was given the answer she wanted. "Could I speak to the bar maid who was on duty last Friday night. I can't think of her name, but I've found an ear-ring in my pocket and I think it might be one of hers."

  The barman laughed.

  "That's Marisa," he said, "She's part time and only works twi
ce a week, Wednesdays and Fridays. It could well have been one of her ear-rings alright. She's a right one she is for losing things ... and I don't mean just her ear-rings." The barman laughed even louder when he said that.

  "Oh! could you tell me her name please?"

  "What Marisa? Cor, I don't think I know her name. We call her Marisa, but that's all I know about her."

  "Oh! I did so want to post her ear-ring on to her as I am due in Manchester in the next few days and I wanted to send it to her before I leave London."

  "Well, I don't know her address, but her boyfriend comes in regularly. You could ask him if you want, but then he’s not here at the moment, so ...or you could post the thing here if you like and send it to Marisa ... Wait a minute, her name is here somewhere. Yes, here it is. Marisa Caulfield. Send it to her here and she'll get it O.K. I'll see to that."

  "Thanks, I'll just do that," said Alison, ”but just as a matter of interest, would Marisa’s boyfriend be named Ken?” she asked and the barman chuckled,

  “You’re bloody psychic,“ he called out as she replaced her phone, but her mind was in a whirl. Marisa had some connection with Ken ... she felt absolutely sure of that now as the picture was beginning to take shape ...even if it was only a snog on a Wednesday or a Friday evening, but the fact that she had contact with Ken at all, was enough for Alison ... and if she worked only as a part-time bar maid, could she not also be a qualified midwife?

  She waited until the evening before she made her next call.

  "O hello, could I speak to Ken please?" she said softly, trying to change the tone of her voice, but the voice on the other end rasped her reply.

  "And you can fuck off darlin' I know it was you who phoned him the other evening. I don't forget a voice."

  Neither do I, thought Alison, but she kept her thoughts to herself as she continued talking.

  "Could you just tell him that Marisa has done what he wanted her to do," she said and waited for the reply.