Rough Justice (12 page)

‘Not you, you silly whore.’

She stopped dead in her tracks.

‘Him.’

George was up and out of the room before Nell had dared move, and even if Stephen had crept across the kitchen in his bare feet rather than in
his heavy, clumping boots, she would still have known he was looming right there behind her.

‘Well?’

Nell gulped down a breath that threatened to choke her. How could he expect her to speak?

She felt him grab her by the hair, and then her head was being jerked back and he was dragging her sideways over to the table.

‘George saw you messing around with that little bastard across the landing. It’s a man you want, not a fucking kid.’

‘Please, Stephen, leave me alone. Please.’

Stephen smacked her hard across the face with the flat of his hand, wrenched her body round and slammed her face down onto the table, sending the bowl, spoon and fork and the remains of his supper crashing to the floor.

There was nothing she could do except squeeze her eyes tight to hold back the tears as he tore down her knickers and thrust himself into her.

Soon sated, Stephen wiped himself dry on the tea towel and set about buttoning up his fly. ‘Don’t you ever show me up like that again.’

He calmly looked towards the open door where George was standing watching them, his swollen penis gripped in his hand.

‘You won’t get that back in your trousers when it’s like that,’ he said matter-of-factly to George. ‘And if you don’t want another bloody nose tomorrow, you can get yourself and your lazyarsed sister down that market in the morning. I’ve got better things to do than run a stall. And
don’t you think I’m kidding, boy. Cos I’m not. I am a busy man, and you and her are taking over that stall or you’ll pay what for, you have my word on that.’

Nell wouldn’t have understood what Stephen was talking about when he claimed he had better things to do with his time – even if she hadn’t been preoccupied with vomiting into the sink.

Stephen pushed past her. ‘And make sure you clean up this kitchen before you come to bed.’

She didn’t even register George’s agonised gasp as his father punched him squarely in the solar plexus.

‘Have that as a little reminder for you not to let me down in the morning, Georgie boy, or you really will have something to complain about.’

Across the landing Martin was standing in the open doorway of number 57, fists up, flexing his shoulders, his chest visibly rising and falling.

‘What do you think you’re doing out here?’ It was Mary Lovell, standing behind her son, looking over his shoulder at the empty landing.

‘Can’t you hear the noise from the Flanagans, Mum? I’ll bet that bully’s knocking her about because I punched him this morning. I’m going over to see what’s going on.’

‘Aw no you’re not. It was different earlier, you were all out on the landing, but you’ve been brought up better than to interfere in what goes on behind people’s closed doors. Now get back in here before there’s any more trouble.’

‘But Mum, I heard her shouting for him to
leave her alone. That George makes me sick, treating her like that. I’m going to have him. Teach him how to behave. Someone’s got to.’

‘Do I have to call your father?’

‘I’m not a kid, Mum.’

‘No?’

‘No, I’m not. I bring money into this house, remember.’

Mary blinked slowly. ‘I do know, son. Of course I do.’

Martin threw up his hands, furious with his big mouth. ‘I’m really sorry, Mum, that wasn’t fair. Course I bring money in, and I’m really glad that I do. This is my family and we all pull together. We do what has to be done. Dad looked after me when I was little, and now I can make some sort of repayment for all the things you both did for me. Please, Mum, don’t be upset. I know I sounded like I begrudge it, but course I don’t. You know that. I’ll stay here for as long as you both need me. I promise you.’

Mary dug up a smile from somewhere and stroked her son gently on the cheek. ‘Like when you were a little boy and you used to promise me you’d take me to the seaside one day?’

Martin shrugged. ‘Yeah. One day, eh Mum?’

‘Yeah, one day, son.’

Nell’s hands were shaking as she buttoned her coat. For once, Stephen had insisted that she should go to the corner shop to buy some corned beef – he said he fancied hash for his supper. They both knew full well he would usually bring some home, but he’d made it quite clear that today at least he was only going to stay at the market long enough to show Lily and George how to run the stall, and then he was off somewhere. Apparently this meant going to some place where he couldn’t buy corned beef.

As Stephen had issued his instructions about her going to the shop, Nell had watched him mopping up the last of the egg yolk with a slice of toast – all that was left of the plateful of fried breakfast she had made for him. And she had really wondered for one almost happy moment if it was his way of apologising for what he’d done to her the night before, his clumsy way of saying sorry. But she had rapidly returned to reality – Stephen wasn’t a man who said sorry. Yet still she knew she had to struggle to pull herself together, make up her mind to find some good even in a morning like this, or else she would sink as surely as a bag of rubbish that had been tossed in the
river. She had to find some strength from somewhere.

She closed her eyes. Right. For a start, George and Lily, in an unusually quiet and compliant mood, had left the Buildings with their father. That had to be good. There, that was something to start with. And, if she were lucky, they wouldn’t be home until late afternoon.

Blissful peace for hours . . .

Maybe she should try looking on the bright side a bit more often. It had to be better than feeling miserable and alone all the time.

She couldn’t help but think about Sarah Meckel from the corner shop, and how she always tried to make the best of everything despite the hardships and disappointments she’d suffered. When people asked her about her husband, David, she always said the same thing – that he was fine, and how it was important that you realised that you had to work at a marriage to make it last, and that everyone went through their little bad patches. If that was true for Sarah and David then maybe it could be true for her and Stephen, and while they weren’t officially man and wife like the Meckels, they were as good as married. Maybe if she tried a bit harder life would be easier, better.

Nell took a comb from her handbag and turned to the mirror above the kitchen sink, preparing to go round to the corner shop.

As soon as she saw herself, her mood darkened immediately. The left side of her face was covered in a livid purple-brown bruise.

Now she understood what Stephen was doing – he was sending her to the shop so that everyone could see her – it was more punishment. Stephen was going to make sure that everyone saw what he had done to her, to show the power he had over her and what he could do if she displeased him. But she had made the decision to live with a man without being his wife – and with everyone knowing it – so how could she think it was unfair? Even if she had only run away from George to protect herself, maybe she deserved to be punished and humiliated.

As Nell went into the shop, her head held down and her chin tilted away from them, Sarah Meckel and Mary Lovell exchanged glances.

‘Morning, Nell,’ said Mary brightly.

‘Yeah, morning, Nell,’ chimed in Sarah. ‘What can we get for you today? Some washing soda? A slab of soap maybe?’

‘No thanks,’ said Nell, barely audibly. ‘I’d like six ounces of corned beef, please.’

That had Sarah and Mary flashing another look at each other along the counter.

‘Corned beef? Not like you, coming in for something like that.’ Sarah lifted the rectangular slab of red, fat-marbled meat off the white porcelain stand and onto the bacon slicer. ‘I thought Stephen always fetched in the food. Thought we were only good enough for household bits and pieces.’

Nell shrank down into her coat. ‘I’m sorry if
I’ve offended you, Sarah. If you’d rather I went somewhere else.’

Both of the women heard the sob in her voice.

‘Don’t be silly, Nell,’ said Sarah. ‘I was only playing. Now, let’s see, six ounces was it?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘Funny old weather we’re having,’ Mary said, sorting through the biscuits in the big glass-lidded tins and putting any broken ones in the mixed bargain barrel. ‘One minute you think spring’s here, then it starts getting all gloomy again.’

Sarah turned the chrome handle of the slicer, activating the blade that carved through the meat, and caught the slices on a sheet of greaseproof paper. ‘Me and Mary, we were going to have a cup of tea in a minute. Stay and have one with us if you like.’ Another quick look at Mary. ‘We can have a nice little chat. Just the three of us. Tell you what, we’ll put the closed sign up on the door and have a real good natter.’

‘I can’t, I’ve got to get back.’

Sarah put the meat on the scale and watched the arrow move across. ‘Just under. Want another slice?’

‘No, that’ll do. Thank you. I’ve got to go.’

‘If you’re sure.’

‘Stephen said to put it on the slate, please.’ Nell’s voice was now quavering, and she snatched up the greaseproof paper before Sarah could parcel it up. That was a mistake. The slices of meat fell all over the scrubbed wooden counter and Nell burst into tears.

‘Right, that’s it.’ Sarah went over to the door, bolted it tight and turned the sign round to read
CLOSED
. ‘We’re going to get to the bottom of this.’

‘Sarah,’ said Mary, pulling a
please shut up
face. ‘The girl said she’s got to go home.’

‘Too bad, now go and put the kettle on.’

‘I don’t want any tea,’ sniffed Nell. ‘I feel sick.’ She dropped down onto the customer’s chair that stood by the counter.

‘You don’t have to stay with him, you know,’ said Sarah, patting her shoulder. ‘It’s not as if you’re, you know, married to the man.’

Nell didn’t even bother to try and hide her tears. ‘You don’t understand. No one does. I’ve got to stay with him. I’ve got no choice. I’ve just got to.’

‘No you haven’t. A beautiful young girl like you, there are so many boys out there – boys your own age, boys who’d love the chance to be with someone like you.’ Sarah stroked Nell’s hair. ‘You’ve got your whole life in front of you. Course you haven’t got to stay with him.’

‘Yes I do have to.’

‘But darling, why?’

Nell pulled her handkerchief from her bag, and although she held it up to her mouth, what she said next was horribly clear to Sarah and Mary. ‘Cos not only have I been living in sin like some cheap tart, but I think I’m expecting. I keep being sick and I’ve not seen my, you know, my –’ She dropped her voice. ‘My period. Again. That’s two I’ve missed. Two.’

Sarah said something in a language that neither Nell nor Mary understood, while ‘Blimmin’ hell,’ was as much as Mary could manage by way of response.

Sarah squatted down next to the chair. ‘There are things you can do, you know.’

Nell sniffed and wiped her nose.

‘I mean, you don’t have to have it.’

Mary tutted loudly, concerned but exasperated. ‘Have you got any idea what Sarah’s talking about, love? Cos I don’t suppose they told you about these things in the home, now did they?’

‘They didn’t tell us anything much in the home, but I do know what she means. My friend Sylvia, she explained all sorts of things to me when I lived at the pub. But I couldn’t do what you’re talking about. I just couldn’t. I wasn’t wanted when I was little and I know what that feels like, having no one wanting you.’ She put her hand on her stomach and let out a little huff of mirthless laughter. ‘I might have been wrong when I thought that Stephen Flanagan actually wanted me because he loved me – me, daft little Nelly – but I know I want my baby.’

‘Where will you go, sweetheart?’

‘Nowhere. There’s nowhere for me to go.’

‘How about the pub? The Hope with that Sylvia Woods? You used to live there all right, didn’t you?’

‘That was before. It’s different now. Stephen’s a good friend of the owner, he’s in there all the
time, so I’d hardly be welcome there if I went and left him.’

‘But that’ll mean you being stuck with the Flanagans.’

‘If that’s what I have to do, then that’s what I have to do.’

Tenderly, Sarah touched the bruise on the side of Nell’s face. ‘Tell me, darling, how did that happen?’

‘I left the cupboard door open, and forgot.’

‘And in a minute my David’s going to walk down them back stairs, tell me to put my feet up and start running the shop for me.’

Mary took herself back behind the counter and began to wrap the scattered slices of corned beef. ‘The girl doesn’t want to talk about it, Sarah.’

Sarah stood up. ‘And that’s exactly how men like him get away with it.’

‘Go on Steve-o, let’s have a bit of credit, mate. Just a couple of bob each way. I’ll pay you back in a few days, I give you my solemn word on it. In fact, I swear on my old woman’s life. I’ll repay you every penny. You can trust me, Steve-o, you know that.’

Stephen was leaning against the wall outside a tobacconist’s shop in Brick Lane. He had his cap pulled down hard over his well-oiled hair, and a white silky muffler knotted around his neck. He took a leisurely drag of his roll-up before bothering to answer.

‘Pay me back in a couple of days, now will you?’

‘Sure I will.’

‘You can’t be that confident of winning then, feller, now can you, or you’d be promising to pay me back right after this afternoon’s race – straight after you’ve won. So do us all a favour and piss off, I’ve got these genuine customers waiting here, men with money in their pockets waiting to lay real bets.’

The shabbily dressed man, hands deep in his trouser pockets, slunk away, with Stephen’s mocking laughter ringing after him.

‘Reckon he thinks I’m straight off the boat, that one.’ Stephen flicked the butt of his roll-up into the gutter. ‘Right, who’s for any more? And I am talking about the exchange of actual money here remember, gentlemen. So please don’t ask for tick, cos a punch in the gob often offends. If it’s credit you want you have definitely come to the wrong man.’