Storms Gather Between Us

by Storms Gather Between Us (retail) (epub)

  ‘Really?’ Hannah injected a breezy confidence into her voice. Remembering a road sign she had seen on their door-knocking yesterday, she said, ‘He wants me to do Walton Hill today. I’m to distribute another hundred leaflets.’

  Nance folded her arms. ‘I’m not so sure. He’d have said summat just now.’

  ‘He told me yesterday. He was most specific.’ She added some fabricated details, pleased at her capacity to lie convincingly. ‘As far as Chestnut Avenue, then back down Northport Road. And I can change my library book at the same time. Save you having to do it.’

  ‘Well, if you say so.’ The woman frowned. ‘Odd that he said nowt to me. Oh well. I’ll have to come with you. I’m not knocking on any doors mind. I’ll just be there to keep an eye on you.’

  ‘There’s no need for that. I’ll be back by noon.’

  Nance harrumphed. ‘He should have bloody well told me. I’m the last to know everything round here.’ She inspected the back of her hands. ‘I’m going to go upstairs and do me nails then. You’ll have to sort something for us to eat when you get back. I won’t want to risk scuffing them once they’re painted.’

  Remembering to take a pile of leaflets with her, Hannah checked in her pocket for what was left of Sam’s money after she’d paid Nance for the trip to the library, and left The Laurels. She set off for Walton Vale to find a bus going to Bootle. As she walked briskly down Moss Lane she felt a huge surge of relief to be free of the oppressive atmosphere in the house.

  It wasn’t safe to dump the flyers in a bin anywhere in the local neighbourhood in case they found their way back to Henderson. Better to hold onto them for now. Then she remembered she wanted to return her library book. She could leave the bagful of leaflets in there. A library would be the last place Henderson would find them.

  Her mission accomplished, she caught a bus for Bootle. Picking up a discarded newspaper she glanced idly at the front page, which bore pictures of men digging trenches in Hyde Park in London, barrage balloons – described popularly as ‘silver sausages’ – being inflated and set in place to offer protection from the possibility of airborne attack by Germany, and the news that gas masks would now be supplied to the whole population, starting with the major cities including her own. She had lost touch with what was happening in the wider world. The threat of Hitler and war had left her largely unmoved when the smaller domestic war she had become caught up in seemed so much more sinister.

  Here, gazing out at the rows of soot-stained buildings from the top of the bus, she indulged herself for a moment to wonder about Will. Where was he now? Might he be thinking of her too? The harshness of the words she had written convinced her he would not. She brushed away a tear and thought instead that soon she would be seeing her mother again.

  As she walked up the street towards her former home it seemed as though it were a lifetime ago that she had been living here. In that time, she had lost her innocence, her belief in the possibility of happiness and every last vestige of respect for the man who was her father. In contrast, she had gained a new hardness inside her, a resilience. Nothing could shock her any more. She had undergone a baptism of fire but felt a nostalgia for her naivety and innocence of just a few weeks ago.

  Only a few steps short of the house, she froze as the door opened and her father stepped outside. For what seemed like an eternity they stood facing each other down. Hannah’s heart was hammering so loudly it felt as though it might burst through her chest. She thought of turning and running. But there was nowhere to run to – and no point.

  Dawson strode towards her, grabbed her by the wrist with one hand, swung the other back and struck her across the face. It was like a whiplash. Her cheek flamed under the searing sting of the slap.

  Across the road, two women, chatting across their doorsteps, stopped their conversation to watch the display. Neither made any attempt to intervene. Probably frequent recipients of their husbands’ blows, it was an entertaining sideshow to see someone else getting a bit of a lashing. Hannah’s father saw the women too, and evidently conscious of his dignity and desire always to project the image of a man worthy of respect and standing, a cut above the other residents of the street, he dragged Hannah away by the wrist.

  He didn’t take her into the house as she expected. Instead he led her back to the main road, where he pushed her in front of him to the rear of a queue boarding a waiting bus. They were going back to Orrell Park.

  When they arrived at The Laurels, instead of knocking on the front door he dragged her round to the back door and pushed it open. He had said nothing for the entire journey.

  As soon as they were inside the scullery he landed a blow. Hannah fell against the enamel sink, smashing her elbow on the edge and releasing a cry in agony. Trying to protect her head with her arms she stumbled into the back parlour where an astonished Nance was finishing her manicure.

  Heedless of her newly-applied nail varnish, Nance grabbed the poker from the fire and brandished it above her head, advancing towards Dawson. ‘Get the hell out of here before I smash this through your skull, you filthy bastard.’

  Ignoring the warning, Dawson moved towards her. Instantly the poker slammed into the side of his head, sending him reeling. He staggered backwards, eyes wide in shock. Nance, now with the upper hand, swung her arm back and swiped again. This time it cracked into his upper arm with a force that was audible. ‘That one’s for Madge’s black eye.’ Swinging again she caught him on the hip. ‘And that’s for the time you broke Tina’s nose.’

  By now, Dawson was cowering, arms over his head. ‘Don’t hurt me! Please!’ He backed, still half crouching, towards the door. He looked at Hannah in appeal.

  ‘Don’t look to her for help. Not after what you done to her, you bloody great bully. She knows all about you. Everything. I’ve told her all your dirty little secrets. There’s a few more details she’ll hear too before I’m done. About how you’ve been bleeding money out of your family business into paying for prostitutes. And paying off girls to stop them going to the police and exposing your perverted games.’

  Hannah was open-mouthed. Her father was whimpering now.

  ‘If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the hell out of here right now and you won’t darken the door again. She don’t wanna see you and I sure as hell don’t. And Old Man Henderson ain’t going to be too pleased to know you’ve just walked right into his house, assaulted his daughter-in-law and tried to assault his lady friend.’ She waved the poker to underline her point. ‘Now hop it!’

  Dawson didn’t hesitate. He grabbed his hat from where it had been knocked onto the floor and went out of the back door.

  Nance sat down at the table and picked up the bottle of acetone. ‘Now I’m going to have to do me bleeding nails again. Stick the kettle on, doll.’ She looked up at Hannah. ‘You all right? Did he hurt you?’

  ‘I’ll be all right. Thank you for doing that.’

  ‘My pleasure, ducky. I’d have liked to break his skull. Only I don’t fancy going down for it.’ She wiped an acetone-soaked rag over a nail to remove the polish. ‘But let’s got one fing straight. If you lie to me again I’ll go straight to His Nibs. And from now on, you’re confined to barracks.’

  ‘Do you think my father will tell the pastor?’

  ‘Nah! And have him know what ’appened? Not bleeding likely. He’ll stay away from here from now on if he’s got half a brain. Now you going to tell me what you were up to?’

  ‘I wanted to see my mother. It’s not right that we should be kept apart like this. I miss her.’

  ‘Poor cow your mother must be, married to a bastard like him. Let me have a think. We’ll see if I can come up with a plan.’

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Two days later, Hannah was chopping vegetables for a soup while Nance sat flipping idly through a women’s magazine.

  ‘Does Mr Henderson know you read magazines – or have them in the house?’

  ‘Not blooming likely. It’d be turned int
o kindling for the fire if he saw this. But what the eye don’t see… Besides, he knows only too well that I’ll pack my bags and go back on the game if he crosses me. He knows which side his bread’s buttered on. Not many girls can give a good spanking like I can and put up with all his nasty habits. Have I told you—’

  ‘I’d rather not know if you don’t mind.’ Hannah tipped the peelings into the bin. ‘I’d like to hang onto what little innocence I have left.’

  ‘You are a card, ducky!’ Nance burst out laughing. ‘Innocence, eh? Something I can’t even remember.’ She tossed the magazine aside. ‘What a waste of time that was. All knitting patterns and recipes and tips for keeping your house clean. “Ten ways to please the man in your life” – apparently it’s about having his dinner on the table, his slippers warmed in front of the fire, and a smile on your face when he comes home from work.’ She snorted derisively. ‘I tell you there are better ways to keep a man happy than that – and that don’t involve having to be a slave to housework. I could tell you a thing or two, doll – but it would all be wasted on young Master Samuel.’ She giggled. ‘He’d have kittens if you tried some of my little tricks on him. Hey, maybe you should – perhaps you could convert him from being a nancy boy. I bet if you—’

  ‘No, thank you, I’ve no intention of learning any of your tricks. And I’m perfectly happy with things the way they are.’

  Before Nance could respond they were disturbed by a tapping noise. They both looked up and there was Hannah’s mother, Sarah, looking at them through the scullery window.

  Hannah jumped up and rushed to open the door. Launching herself into her mother’s arms she cried, ‘I’m so happy to see you! How did you find me? Nance, did you arrange this?’

  Nance put her hands up. ‘Nowt to do with me, love.’

  ‘I saw you and your father when you came to the house. I was at the window when he took you. I followed you and nipped onto the bus just in time and went upstairs. Thankfully the conductor didn’t get to me ’til you were getting off anyway – I’d no money for the fare and told her I’d left my purse at home. I kept you in sight ’til you came in here then I walked home. I didn’t want him to catch me. Today’s the first chance I’ve had to come. He’s been watching me like a hawk.’

  Hannah hugged her mother, squeezing her tightly, unable to believe that at last they were reunited.

  ‘How’s Judith?’

  ‘She’s fine. Working hard. He takes every penny from her on pay day.’

  Nance shepherded them into the back parlour. ‘I’ll make a brew then leave you to catch up.’ Addressing Sarah, she said, ‘Make sure you’re gone by five o’clock when His Nibs comes home.’

  Tea provided, Nance left them alone and mother and daughter sat on opposite sides of the narrow kitchen table. Hannah told her mother what had happened when her father had dragged her to the house. Sarah let her tea go cold, so caught up was she in concern at the violence Charles Dawson had meted out to her daughter.

  When Hannah got to the part about Nance attacking him with the poker, she decided to omit any references to Nance’s prior connections to her father and his consorting with prostitutes. It was bad enough anyway.

  After a while, Sarah asked, ‘Are they treating you well here?’

  Nodding her head, Hannah told her that she had plenty to eat, the house was big, Sam was courteous and Nance was kind to her, even fetching her library books.

  ‘Sam hasn’t hurt you, has he? I mean he isn’t rough with you? Inconsiderate?’

  ‘No. He’s a kind man. He’d never lay a finger on me. In fact…’ Should she tell her mother everything? ‘He doesn’t touch me at all.’

  ‘You mean in bed?’

  Hannah nodded, feeling the blood coursing to her cheeks. ‘He doesn’t like women. He prefers men.’

  ‘You’re serious? So you’re still a virgin?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Sarah’s face broke into a smile.

  ‘He goes out at night. To meet men.’ Hannah’s face was burning

  ‘That will make getting an annulment easier.’ Sarah clasped her hands together. ‘But to do that, we first need to get you away from here. Then we can go to the police.’

  ‘No, we can’t.’

  ‘But we must. We’ll find Will. He’ll be able to marry you after all.’

  Hannah started to cry.

  ‘What’s the matter, love? Don’t you want to be with Will? I thought you loved each other.’

  She sniffed and fumbled for a handkerchief. ‘I wrote him a letter. I told him to forget me. I said some cruel things.’

  Her mother put her head in her hands, slumping forward. ‘So that’s why he’s left Liverpool.’

  ‘He has?’ Hannah didn’t know whether to feel relieved that her letter had achieved the desired effect or devastated that it had.

  ‘I went to find him this morning to tell him that I’d found out where you were living. I thought he’d want to come and get you out of here. I went to the dock and since the Arklow, his ship, was out of port, I asked for the Irishman Will told me would know when it was due back.’ She stretched her lips. ‘The fellow told me Will had signed up with a ship going to Africa. Left a few weeks ago. Says he’ll be gone for at least eighteen months – possibly two years. Completely out of the blue apparently. I couldn’t understand why he didn’t come to see me first and tell me what he was doing and why.’

  ‘Well, now you know.’

  ‘But why did you do it, Han? It doesn’t make sense. He was going to try and find you. He and I talked about it. He loves you.’

  ‘I didn’t want to wreck his life. I wanted him to forget me.’

  ‘That’s silly, love. It’s a sham marriage. You had no say in it. You were forced. We could have gone to the police. We still can. We’ll get the marriage annulled. I’ve a piece of good news. It’s why I came to see you as soon as I could.’

  Hannah looked up at her bleakly, incapable of believing that anything could be described as good news any more.

  ‘I’ve found out that the place your father took you to be married isn’t a proper religious institution. There’s no licence to perform marriages. Pastor Henderson is not even a recognised religious official. You’re not legally married to Samuel Henderson.’ Her mother was grinning and reached across the table to take her daughter’s hands. ‘I went to the registry office and they said no such place or clergyman was listed. I asked them for a copy of your marriage certificate and they said there wasn’t one. They told me to go to the police.’

  This was like a body blow to Hannah and she slumped onto the table, now sobbing loudly. ‘It’s no good. It’s too late. Will’s gone and it will ruin Sam.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘If you go to the police about this, it will mean Sam’s life is wrecked. He’ll lose his job.’

  ‘That’s Sam’s problem not yours.’

  ‘I can’t do that to him. He could be arrested too. It’s against the law to be a homosexual.’

  A voice came from behind them and Nance entered the room. ‘Actually, it isn’t. It’s just against the law to be caught performing a homosexual act.’

  Hannah flinched and looked at her mother. Neither wanted to imagine what that might entail.

  ‘If you ask me it’s only a matter of time before that happens.’ Nance raised one eyebrow. ‘She covers for him when he goes out at night.’ She jerked her head towards Hannah while addressing Sarah.

  Hannah gave a little gasp.

  ‘I wasn’t born yesterday. The Old Man might sleep like a log but I hear Sam creeping up the stairs at all hours. Unless he’s very careful he’ll get caught one night.’ She pulled herself up to perch half-sitting on the edge of the table. ‘Most of the time the police turn a blind eye, but every now and then they have a bit of a purge. Just to keep the politicians happy – and the papers. They’re always going on about cleaning up the docks.’

  ‘You seem to know a lot about it.’ Sarah looked at N
ance curiously, then glanced at her daughter, who looked away.

  ‘I bloody well should do.’ Nance laughed. ‘When I started out I used to walk the streets round the docks.’

  ‘You were a policewoman?’

  Nance collapsed into peals of laughter. ‘Cor blimey! That’s rich. No. Love. I was a prozzie. On the game. When I first came to Liverpool I used to work the streets but then I got a place in an establishment. Much classier. Pastor Henderson was one of my clients and he paid me to go private about a year ago.’ She turned her hands out theatrically. ‘So here I am.’

  Sarah’s mouth dropped open. She turned to her daughter. ‘Did you know this?’

  Hannah nodded, mutely, praying that Nance wouldn’t mention her father’s role in all this. It was too much to spring on Sarah at once. She felt protective towards her mother.

  Nance evidently recognised this and instead said, ‘If Sam’s got any sense, he’ll steer clear of the docks.’

  ‘He has a special friend. A sailor.’ Hannah was blushing. ‘They had a quarrel so I don’t think he goes near the docks any more.’

  Nance rolled her eyes. ‘A sailor, eh? Likes a bit of rough, does he, young Sam? If it’s not the docks then it’s likely it’s up a dark alley or in a queers club. Either way, he’ll get caught eventually.’ She looked towards Sarah for support. ‘I keep telling your Hannah she ought to try and coax him out of it. I could give her some tips. It’s worth sticking by young Sam as he’s going to inherit all of this one day.’ She swept her arm through the air. Dropping her voice to a conspiratorial tone she added, ‘And between you and me, the Old Man has a tendency to over exert himself. I won’t be at all surprised if he pegs out on top of me one night.’

  Sarah gave her a look that would have frozen a boiling kettle. ‘My daughter has no interest in financial gain. She needs to be free of this sham marriage. And I’m going to do my utmost to make that happen. Now I want to talk to my daughter in private.’

  ‘I’ve more right to be here than you have, love.’ Nance folded her arms. She was still sitting on the edge of the table. ‘Besides, you may find I have some useful information.’