Forgive and Forget (13 page)

They walked up the High Street, keeping a distance between them, and then along Silver Street and across Broadgate. As they passed the Drill Hall, where her father had lain so ill, Polly shuddered. But determinedly, she put her mind to happier times. The typhoid epidemic was behind them and with the authorities fully aware now that they must not allow such a thing to happen again, the city was almost back to normal. But families like the Longdens, who had lost someone dear, would never forget.

And then they were walking along Monks Road towards the city’s park, the Arboretum.

‘I thought you said we were going for a little walk,’ she teased him.

Leo chuckled. ‘The longer we walk, the longer we’ll be walking back. Besides, I like the Arboretum.’

‘So do I and it’s so pretty at this time of the year when everything’s just starting to come into bud.’

When they had passed through the park gates, Leo moved a little closer and took her hand in his. Polly said nothing, but her heart began to thump and her knees trembled so much she began to be afraid she wouldn’t be able to walk another step. But of course she did and they walked on, not speaking now, but just enjoying being together and the feel of each other’s nearness.

It was dark by the time they reached the corner of their street again and just before they reached the door of Polly’s home, Leo stopped and pulled her gently towards him. He circled her in his arms. ‘We’ll go again to the park. One weekend when one of the bands might be playing. And will you come to the fair with me, Poll? I shall be on extra duty a lot of the time when it’s here, but I should get an evening off.’

‘I – I’ll try,’ she said breathlessly.

‘I know it’s difficult for you,’ he said soberly. ‘But you’re a grand lass to care for your family the way you do. You deserve a bit of fun now and again.’

She thought for one blissful moment that he was going to bend his head and kiss her, but then, he loosened his hold on her with a little sigh and said, ‘And now you must go in. ’Night, night, pretty little Polly.’

Polly hated being teased and called ‘pretty Polly’. ‘Makes me sound like a parrot,’ she’d always snapped.

But not the way Leo said it – oh, not the way Leo said it, it didn’t.

‘Can I go to the fair tonight, Dad? Violet’s old enough to see to Miriam for one night and as long as you’re here . . .’

Before William could even open his mouth to answer, Violet said pertly, ‘But I’m going out. I’m going to the fair.’

Polly rounded on her. ‘Who with? You’ve not asked. And besides you’re only twelve. You’re too young to be staying out late.’

‘I don’t have to ask. I’m working. I give you money for my keep. I don’t have to ask.’

‘Yes, you do,’ William put in. ‘You have to ask me. You’re still a child, Violet, even if you are working. Your sister has looked after us all since your mother died with never a word of complaint. Now, for once, she’s asking for a night out and I think she should be able to go. If she was in a union, she’d be allowed some time off every week, so just think about that.’

It was the first time Polly had heard her father say anything that was close to appreciation for all that she’d done – all that she’d given up – for the family.

As Violet opened her mouth to protest, William held up his hand. ‘Not another word. You’ll stay home and mind the young ones.’

Polly felt her excitement rising as she got ready to go out. She put on her best black dress and the delicate white lace tippet that had been her mother’s. But all the time she was aware of Violet’s expression as black as thunder. She sat huddled in the chair by the fire, glowering first at Polly and then at her father. William took no notice and Polly was far too happy at the thought that Leo had asked her out again, and that she was going to spend the whole evening with him, to let Violet’s resentment trouble her.

Though she resolved silently that the following night, before the fair ended, she would see if she could let Violet go for an hour or so.

Polly had never known such carefree happiness. Leo took her on all the rides; on the helter-skelter they slid down together with Leo’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She squealed with pretended fear so that he would hold her even closer. He bought toffee apples for them both and won her a prize on one of the stalls.

Laughter filled the night air all around them and Polly was moved to say, ‘Folks are getting back to normal after – after—’ She couldn’t say the words for the lump that rose in her throat, but Leo understood.

He squeezed her arm tucked through his own. ‘I know,’ he said gently. ‘But you know, whatever our lovely city has to suffer, it’ll always survive. Oh, Poll, I do love being a policeman.’ He chuckled softly. ‘A copper, as your Eddie would call me. I love being on the beat – meeting people, trying to help them. It’s not all about catching criminals, y’know.’

‘I do know,’ she said softly. ‘You were wonderful at the time of the epidemic. Like your mam, not thinking of yourself – just trying to help others.’

They were walking home now through the streets still busy with people, even so late at night. The fair always brought people out of their houses for a few hours’ pleasure.

‘But the trouble is, if I do know of – of some wrong doing, then I am obliged to report it. You do understand that, don’t you, Poll?’

Filled with the happiness of the evening, of his closeness, Polly didn’t understand the gentle warning behind his words.

Instead, she made light of it. ‘You mean, if your mam was caught stealing so much as an apple from the market, you’d have to arrest her?’

But Leo wasn’t joking as he said softly, ‘Exactly.’

As they paused outside the door to her home, Polly lifted her face. Now, surely, tonight, he would kiss her. But Leo touched her forehead with his lips and brushed her cheek gently with the tip of his fingers.

‘Night, night, my pretty little Polly. Thank you for a wonderful evening. Now in you go and make sure those bairns are all right in Violet’s tender care.’

Without another word he walked jauntily down the street, whistling softly under his breath.

Polly watched him all the way down to the bottom of the street until she could scarcely see him through the gloom. But she was sure he turned at the last moment and waved to her.

‘Night, night, Leo. My love . . .’ she whispered to the bright stars and the empty street.

As she opened the door, she heard the screaming at once. Not just the wails of a hungry or thirsty infant, but desperate, terror-stricken shrieks. Miriam and Stevie were both howling.

Polly tore off her coat and ran up the stairs. ‘I’m coming, I’m coming. Oh, whatever’s the matter?’

She flung open the door to the bedroom she still shared with Violet and Miriam. The little girl was standing up in the cot, tears running down her face. She was crying and hiccuping and stretching out her chubby little hands towards Polly.

‘Oh, darling, darling,’ Polly cried, scooping her up and holding her close. The warm little body was shaking and her nightdress was soaking. As her sobs began to subside now that familiar, comforting arms were holding her, Polly moved into the part of the room the two boys shared. Stevie was sitting up in bed, crying and shivering. There was no sign of Eddie – which she hadn’t expected – but where was Violet?

‘There, there, it’s all right. I’m home now.’ She sat on the side of Stevie’s bed. He snuggled up to her and she sat with the infant on her lap and her little brother with his head buried against her shoulder. As his tears dried, he whispered, ‘Polly, I wet the bed.’

Gently, she said, ‘Didn’t you get out of bed and use the pot?’

‘I – I was frightened.’

This was not the first time that Stevie had had a ‘little accident’ as she always referred to it. Since starting school, he’d sometimes wet the bed at night. It caused more washing, but Bertha Halliday’s advice had been, ‘Mek nothing of it, lass. It’ll stop of it’s own accord as he grows. And if you mek a fuss, it’ll likely mek him worse.’

So Polly had kept her patience with the sensitive little boy and merely found him clean bed linen, though she put a waterproof sheet underneath so that the mattress should not be spoiled.

Although money was a little easier now that William was in full-time work again and both Eddie and Violet were also employed, one thing the Longden family still could not afford was an expensive item like a new mattress.

‘Didn’t you shout for Vi?’

‘Yes.’ The little boy’s voice still quivered with the residual fear. ‘But – but she didn’t come.’

Swiftly and competently, Polly changed Miriam and put her back in her cot. The child fell asleep at once, happy and safe now that Polly was home. Stevie took a little longer to settle, but at last he too fell asleep.

Polly peeked into her father’s room, knowing before she even looked that he wouldn’t be there. No one could have slept through that racket and she knew he would have at least gone to the children if he’d heard them crying.

There was no one downstairs and Polly realized grimly that the two little ones had been left alone in the house and, worse still, the fire had been left unguarded. She shuddered as she realized what a tragedy might have occurred.

And once more she would have blamed herself.

Violet scarcely knew what hit her as she crept in the back door at a quarter to midnight. William had come home from the pub at just after ten and even Eddie had been home by eleven. This time, Polly told them both at once what she had found on her return home.

‘Those two bairns were left alone in this house with an unguarded fire and the back door unlocked. I’ll skelp the livin’ daylights out of that girl when she gets home. One night – that’s all I asked for – one night and not one of you could stay in and mind the little ones.’

Her father shook his head, trying to clear his mind befuddled by the beer he’d consumed in the George and Dragon. ‘I’m sorry, love. I thought Violet was here. She was when I left.’

‘And me.’ Even Eddie had the grace to look abashed. ‘She was here when I went out. I didn’t know she’d sneak out. Honest, Poll.’

For once, Polly believed him.

Her anger at the gross unfairness of it all was making her emotional, but she brushed away her tears with an angry, impatient movement.

‘Just wait till I get me hands on her. You two go on up. I’ll wait up for her, though I warn you, there’ll be a ruckus when she does come in.’

And now as the door creaked open and Violet tiptoed into the house, Polly pounced on her and grabbed hold of the girl’s hair, dragging her into the kitchen and shaking her. ‘How could you, you dirty little stop-out?’

The torrent of abuse hurled about Violet’s ears mingled with the girl’s cries of pain and alarm. She was suddenly frightened of her sister. Whilst William, even in one of his fits of temper, had never hit his children, Violet knew Polly had no such compunction. She covered her face with her hands as the blows rained about her.

‘Leave – them – bairns, would you? And with an unguarded fire? You ’aven’t the sense you were born with. Well, you won’t be going out again in a hurry, let me tell you.’

At last even Polly ran out of steam and stepped back from her sister, panting, her red hair flying and her green eyes spitting fire. Warily, Violet dropped her hands from her tear-streaked face and looked at Polly.

‘They was all right. They was asleep, Poll. I—’

‘They weren’t when I came in.’ Polly lunged at her again, but Violet nimbly avoided her grasp this time. ‘Miriam was screaming the place down and poor little Stevie had wet the bed. You know he’s had trouble since he started school and ’e needs a cuddle if he wakes up in the night. He doesn’t – ’ she stepped menacingly closer – ‘need leaving alone in a dark house.’

Violet flung her hair back over her shoulders. Her scalp was still smarting from where Polly had almost pulled her hair out by its roots. ‘Well,’ she said defiantly, ‘you’d better mind you stop in and look after them then, hadn’t you?’ Bolder now, she thrust her face close to her sister’s. ‘Instead of flirting with Leo Halliday.’

The slap that Polly gave her resounded through the silence of the house and left a red mark that would not disappear for days. ‘Get to bed,’ she muttered through gritted teeth. ‘And remember, no going out for you until I say so.’

The two girls hardly spoke to each other for several days. Eddie revelled in the tense atmosphere in the house.

‘Meks a change for someone else to be getting the rough edge of Poll’s tongue,’ he quipped as the family sat down to tea about a week after the incident.

‘Now then, lad. It wasn’t right what Violet did,’ William said gruffly. ‘She promised to stay in and mind the bairns and she didn’t. She not only broke her promise – something I can’t and won’t abide – but she left the little ones in danger. No, our Poll does a grand job. Where would we all be without her, eh? Just think on for a minute. She deserves a night out now an’ again.’ He waved his fork at them all. ‘And I reckon that we should pull together as a family. If we all agree to take it in turns to mind the young ones when Poll wants to go out, then it’s not asking too much of any of us, now is it?’

There was silence until Eddie, his mouth full of potato pie, agreed, ‘Well, I’m game. Just so long as our Poll don’t think she’s going to marry a copper.’