Love Changes Everything (30 page)

‘Shut your mouth!' Sam Jackson muttered. ‘You don't want to let anyone outside these four walls hear you say a thing like that because you'll be stirring up trouble for all of us.'

‘It's the truth and you damn well know it,' Daisy reiterated. ‘She wants putting away. What is she, nine years old, and she talks and acts like a kid of three. She's not normal, I tell you. She's always been jealous of our little Jimmy and this was her way of getting rid of him.'

‘You're talking bloody rubbish, Daisy,' Sam told her roughly.

‘I think you may be right when you say Cilla put the pillow over his face but she was trying to quieten him because he was crying so much after you'd both gone off out and left him,' Trixie explained.

‘How do you know that if you weren't here?' Daisy retorted belligerently.

‘It's what Cilla told me happened,' Trixie admitted. ‘She was only trying to do her best to get him off to sleep.'

‘She was trying to kill him, to get rid of him,' Daisy sobbed. ‘I shall tell the police when they get here and tell them to take her away and lock her up.'

‘That won't bring Jimmy back. If you're set on doing that then it's probably better not to call them at all,' Sam said exasperatedly.

‘You will have to report it, Dad,' Trixie pointed out. ‘It's all part of the law, isn't it, when someone dies?'

‘When someone's killed, you mean. Murdered in their bed by a lunatic,' Daisy shrieked.

‘That'll do, luv.' Sam put an arm around Daisy's shoulders to try and comfort her. ‘Try and calm yourself. Make her a cuppa, Trixie, while I go and find a scuffer.'

Dawn was breaking before the police had finally finished interrogating them all. There had been so many questions that Trixie felt in a complete daze. Her father looked grey and drawn and she wished there was something she could say to comfort him but the words stuck in her throat.

Daisy was lying on the sofa with a wet flannel over her eyes and clutching a bottle of smelling salts in one hand. She was weeping noisily and moaning that she wished she was dead, the same as her dear little boy, because her life would never be the same ever again.

Daisy and her dad certainly shouldn't have left the two children all on their own but Trixie couldn't help feeling sorry for Daisy; after all, Jimmy was her little boy.

It had been a dreadful thing to happen. She'd grown to like little Jimmy herself and she knew Cilla was very fond of him.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The next few days were such a nightmare that Trixie could hardly think straight.

Daisy was adamant they ought to tell the police that Cilla had smothered little Jimmy. Trixie was convinced that this was only because she hoped that it would result in Cilla being sent away and she was determined that this wasn't going to happen.

It was hard work defending her but eventually Trixie managed to convince her father that it was in all their interests if they agreed that no one knew how Jimmy had died.

‘If you put the blame on Cilla then you'll probably find yourself being prosecuted because you should never have gone out and left a girl as irresponsible as Cilla in charge of a young child,' she argued, although she hated drawing attention to Cilla's shortcomings.'When the police or any of the authorities realise that you two were out boozing then it won't go down at all well and as I've already said, you'll probably end up before a judge yourselves and it could result in prison for both of you.'

Although Daisy maintained she didn't care Sam was more pragmatic.

‘There's no sense in putting our necks in a noose,' he pointed out; ‘it won't bring our little Jimmy back. I know you're upset, Daisy, but it might be better to let it pass. Given time we can always have another kid if you want one but if one of us, or both of us, gets put inside then we won't even be able to do that.'

In the end, after a heated discussion, Daisy insisted that Sam recalled the doctor who had confirmed that Jimmy was dead and she begged him to give her a strong sedative because she was so upset. She then refused to make a statement to the police, claiming that she was too distraught to be interviewed, but stated that Jimmy had severe breathing difficulties whenever he had a heavy cold.

The doctor was prepared to say that in his opinion it was an unfortunate accident but one which could easily occur when the child concerned had weak lungs and pulled a heavy feather pillow on to his face while asleep.

He did add, however, that in spite of what the child's mother said, he had never been called in to attend him, nor had the child been brought to his surgery.

Trixie confirmed that she was out and that when she left that evening Cilla was already in her own bed and asleep and that normally she slept right through the night so it was unlikely that she would be able to tell them anything.

After spending five minutes with Cilla the police decided that they were wasting their time and that she was incapable of giving them any useful information, so they decided to dismiss her from any further inquiries.

Eventually, to Trixie's relief, it was finally resolved that Jimmy's death was one of misadventure. Daisy and Sam were strongly reprimanded for leaving the children on their own, even though they claimed that they were out of the house for only a little over half an hour.

Trixie breathed a huge sigh of relief when she heard this but she knew the matter was nowhere near over. The police might be prepared to ignore any part Cilla might have played in Jimmy's death, but Daisy certainly wasn't.

Even after Jimmy's funeral, Daisy was still alluding to the fact that Cilla had been the only one in the house when Jimmy had died. She did everything possible to make life difficult for the little girl and constantly asked her veiled questions about what happened that night after she and Jimmy had been left on their own.

Cilla didn't understand what she had done wrong or even why Jimmy was no longer there. She looked for him constantly, searching everywhere, pining because she'd lost her playmate.

Trixie did her best to explain to Cilla that Jimmy wouldn't be there any more, but it was impossible to make her understand. Cilla continued asking for him and stared blankly at Daisy when she accused her of killing him.

This annoyed Daisy intensely and she went out of her way to let them all know how much she hated the girl. Whenever Cilla came near her she pushed her away so roughly that the child frequently fell over, or banged into a piece of furniture or a wall. She shouted at her and scolded her constantly, even if she had done nothing wrong. She even tormented her by snatching her toys away and telling her that they weren't hers but belonged to Jimmy. She even took her food away from her whenever she had the opportunity to do so.

It all became so disrupting that Trixie was really worried and knew that things could not go on as they were for very much longer. The sympathy she'd felt for Daisy over losing little Jimmy ebbed away and she felt that she must get away from Virgil Street as soon as possible or at least get Cilla away before Daisy did her some actual harm.

Daisy and Sam were drinking from the time they woke up in the morning till they went to bed. Sam dragged himself out off bed and down to the docks each morning but if he was fortunate enough to find work then the minute he finished and returned home he had a short snooze, ate his meal, and then he and Daisy went off to the pub and it was late evening before they came home.

Although Daisy no longer appeared to go out to work and Sam's wages fluctuated depending on how often he worked, there still seemed to be money to spend on drink as well as on food.

It was all a mystery to Trixie and her tactful probing met with either a snigger or a blank look from Daisy, or an outright snarl to mind her own business from her father.

In return, Daisy turned the tables on Trixie by complaining frequently and openly about how much it cost them to keep her and Cilla. It was usually followed by exhortations that it was time she found herself a job.

When Trixie tried to point out that it was impossible to do that because of looking after Cilla, Daisy was quick to tell her to find a job where she could take Cilla along with her.

‘I'm not looking after the murdering little bitch,' she ranted. ‘I can't bear to even look at her, not after what she did.'

‘I wouldn't dare trust her with you; you'd probably go out and leave her on her own,' Trixie retorted, stung to tears.

‘Then get yourself a job where you can take her along with you; that's if you can find one where they don't mind having an idiot about the place.'

Trixie knew that finding a private school that would take someone like Cilla was out of the question because with whatever job she could get herself she wouldn't be able to earn enough to send her there.

Paying someone to look after Cilla, a kind capable neighbour who could be trusted to treat her right, would be the answer, but she wasn't sure that she could earn enough even to do that.

In desperation she even toyed with the idea of asking Ella to help but Ivy had said that her mother was far from well and so she felt it would be unfair to suggest it. Apart from health reasons, why should Ella put herself out for them when her father had forbidden her to ask any of the O'Malleys to either her mother's funeral or Jimmy's?

‘We don't want that popish lot lighting their candles and waving their incense all over the place,' Sam sneered when she'd suggested it.

If only she could find some work, and keep it secret from Daisy, she thought wistfully. If she could do that and then save up enough to find a room somewhere else for herself and Cilla, as well as pay someone to look after Cilla, then she could build a new life for the two of them.

She wished she could talk about it to Andrew and see if he had any clever solutions to her problem. The trouble was that he was away on a training course; one that was very important for the advancement of his career, he'd told her.

At one time she would have confided in Ivy but these days she was so engrossed with her new boyfriend that she hardly saw anything at all of her.

Ella seemed to be very wrapped up in what was happening with Ivy and Hadyn. They were planning to get married and there were long discussions about whether they should move in and share Ella's home in Horatio Street or find somewhere of their own.

Jake became Trixie's mainstay. He was so supportive and encouraging that she sometimes wondered how on earth she would manage without him.

He was always ready to listen and to offer advice. He took her and Cilla for walks and he told Trixie that if he wasn't at work then he was even willing to look after Cilla.

She was grateful but she knew that it was impossible because he worked all week. It was thanks to Jake, though, that she did eventually manage to find some work. It was part time, working on a Saturday and Sunday serving tea, coffee, sandwiches and buns from a snack-bar stall down by the Pier Head.

‘I'm a regular there,' he told her, ‘and the chap who runs it was moaning that it was difficult to get someone to work at the weekend and he likes to provide a seven-day service. He does hot food during the week but at the weekends people out for the day usually only want a cuppa and a quick snack especially while they're waiting for their boat if they're going over on the ferry to New Brighton or Egremont, and he wants someone to help out then.

Trixie's eyes shone with excitement. ‘That sounds absolutely wonderful, Jake.'

‘So I'll tell him you'll do it. I don't know what the money will be like because I didn't think to ask. You can settle all that with him when you start.'

Trixie hesitated, her face suddenly clouding over. ‘I'd forgotten about Cilla,' she confessed.

‘That's no problem,' he told her cheerfully. ‘I explained that you would probably have your little sister with you for part of the time and he said that it was all right.'

‘What happens when he finds out that she is there all the time?' Trixie frowned.

‘She won't be. On Saturday, as soon as I've finished work, I'll take her for a walk and I'll come down on Sunday morning and take her to the park or somewhere.'

Trixie stared at him wide-eyed with astonishment. ‘I can't let you do that, Jake,' she protested with a smile. ‘That will be your entire weekend wasted.'

‘Wasted? What do you mean, wasted? I enjoy taking Cilla out.'

‘And she likes being with you,' Trixie assured him. ‘It's just that I feel it's asking too much of you.'

‘I offered; you didn't ask,' he corrected her. ‘Are you going to take this job or not?'

She nodded, smiling, tears of gratitude shining in her eyes.

‘Good, well, I'll let Steve Sinclair know – that's his name, by the way. Steve's Snacks, he calls his place. It's not very grand, just a small shed with a long counter facing the dockside, with a canopy over it, but it's clean and well run. He and his wife manage it between them so one of them will be there to help and tell you what to do.'

Trixie felt rather nervous about starting work there the following Saturday, especially since she had to take Cilla along with her. Steve greeted her like an old friend, however, and she felt at ease the moment she arrived.

Steve was a heavily built, square man with a receding hairline and an infectious smile. His wife, Sylvia, who arrived about an hour later, was thin and birdlike with sharp blue eyes that darted everywhere, taking in all that was going on and making sure that everything was in its place and that things were being done as they should be.

Sylvia was never still for a moment. She liked everything to be meticulously clean, from the huge urns from which they dispensed the tea to the state of the counter.