Rough Justice (25 page)

The other one waggled his hand, weighing up the possibility. ‘Who knows?’

‘Mind you, would you risk losing your licence if you had a good little business like this? What with the hospital and the markets, and all the chimney pots round here, Mr Woods must be doing all right for himself without any need of sidelines.’

‘But he does have a young wife to keep, and they don’t come cheap.’

‘There’s definitely something more to this. They should never have released that body. Makes it all too easy to get it over with.’

‘I bet the local nick can’t wait to close the book.’

Sylvia had spotted the two policemen as soon as they’d turned up at the funeral, and hadn’t been at all surprised when they had appeared in the pub. She only hoped that they hadn’t figured out the arrangement that Bernie had with the local law, or that half the blokes in the pub did business with him. It might be best to set about charming them.

‘Hello gentlemen,’ she said with a rueful smile. ‘Such a sad day for us all, eh? And I know how much Nell appreciates you making the time in
your busy day to pay your respects, so let’s get you some more drinks and a plate of food each, because I know you men never look after yourselves properly.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t mind.’ The shorter policeman looked to his colleague. ‘How about you?’

‘I wouldn’t say no.’

‘So does it mean he won’t be coming back home ever again?’ Dolly was struggling to understand what was going on.

Nell pulled the covers up to her daughter’s chin and kissed her gently on the tip of her nose. ‘Yes, darling. Your dad isn’t with us any more.’

‘Good,’ said Tommy, fishing under the bed to pull out the little tin box of lead soldiers he had hidden there. ‘Now I can play with the things Auntie Sylvie got me without having to be frightened.’

‘Aw Tommy.’ Nell stroked the hair away from his forehead. ‘I’m so sorry you’ve been frightened.’ She sighed wearily, the day taking its toll. ‘But we’ve still got to be careful with George and Lily until we see how things go.’

‘I wish they’d die as well.’ Tommy put the box back under the bed. ‘And I wish that it could be just us. I hate them two.’

‘I know they can be difficult, Tom, but we shouldn’t be unkind.’

‘Well them two are,’ he pouted. ‘Them two are ever so unkind. Why should I be nice to them?’

‘Because we’re not like them, and it would
make me unhappy if you started being unkind. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Mum. I’m sorry.’

‘Good boy. Now you and Dolly go to sleep, it’s been a long day.’

‘Sarah gave us loads of sweets,’ said Dolly quietly. ‘Was that naughty?’

‘No, that was kind and generous of her. I hope you both said thank you nicely.’

‘No, we just said thank you,’ giggled Tommy.

‘Cheeky thing,’ smiled Nell.

‘You look pretty in that hat, Mum. And when you smile.’

Nell could have burst into tears. Fancy the little one noticing that she’d smiled. Did she really smile so seldom?

‘Now you two,’ she said briskly. ‘You really must go to sleep. Night, night.’

‘Sleep tight,’ yawned Dolly.

‘Don’t let the bedbugs bite,’ Tommy finished as Nell turned off the light.

Then Tommy’s voice came from out of the darkness. ‘We’ll have to think what to do with our half-crown soon, won’t we Mum?’

Nell went into what had been her and Stephen’s bedroom, which was now just hers – but who knew for how much longer? – and took off the black cloche hat and the two-piece costume. She draped the skirt and jacket carefully over a hanger and put it away in the wardrobe. She folded her slip and stockings neatly – they would
last another day until she saw what Sylvia had for her – and then rolled up her underwear ready for laundering. She didn’t know how she’d have managed without Sylvia; she had been so good to her over the years, and yet now she was too scared to have her come to visit for fear of upsetting the twins.

What was going to become of her and the children?

Nell buttoned her nightdress up to her neck and flopped down on the bed. It was barely eight o’clock but she was worn out; she felt as if she hadn’t slept for weeks. Tired as she was, she could really do with a cup of tea and a wash. She would have loved to have gone down to the basement for a nice hot bath, but it wouldn’t be right, leaving the children alone; things were confusing enough for them as it was, without waking up to find her gone as well. No, the kitchen and a cat’s lick and a promise would have to do for now.

Nell stood at the sink and unbuttoned her nightdress down to her waist. She ran the flannel under the single cold tap and wrung it out. Closing her eyes with exhaustion, she peeled her nightie off her shoulders and began washing under her arms. She shivered. She should have boiled a kettle of water first and had a nice warm wash. But it wasn’t just the chill of the flannel making her shudder; she had the sudden horrible feeling that someone was watching her. She
opened her eyes and looked in the mirror over the sink.

George was standing behind her in the kitchen doorway.

Nell grabbed the towel off the draining board to cover herself and spun round to face him. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

He moved closer.

Nell tried to step away from him, but she was trapped between him and the sink. She clamped her hand over her mouth.

‘Smell of booze bothers you, does it?’ His voice was slurred, and his eyes out of focus. ‘Never put you off Dad, did it? I used to watch you and him sometimes. Did you know that? I used to touch myself while he was having you. In here. In the bedroom. You couldn’t get enough of him, could you, you dirty little slut?’

‘George, don’t talk like that. We’ve just been to his funeral.’

‘So?’

‘Where’s Lily?’

‘Under the table at the Hope by now, if I know her. I thought I’d come home early and give you a little surprise.’

He grabbed hold of the opened bodice of her nightdress and ripped it apart, sending the rest of the buttons pinging across the lino.

Nell slapped him hard around his face.

‘You made a mistake there, you silly bitch. You’re going to pay for that.’

‘George, please.’ Nell felt she was going to pass
out, but then she heard from the front room a murmur as Dolly stirred in her sleep, and was suddenly alert. ‘Don’t upset the children.’

‘If you don’t want them upset you’d better shut that mouth of yours.’

He dragged Nell across the room, pushed her onto the kitchen table and forced himself on her just as he’d seen his father do.

When he’d finished with her he buttoned up his trousers and stumbled out of the kitchen.

When he reached the doorway he paused. His words came out in a low growl. ‘And don’t think I’m going to forget what you did to me. I meant what I said – I’m going to make you pay for that slap.’

Nell stood, watching as he staggered past his own door and went into her and Stephen’s bedroom. ‘I’ll be waiting for you,’ she heard him call over the sound of the bedsprings groaning as he threw himself down onto the bed.

She washed herself quickly, pulled her torn nightgown onto her still damp body and hurried along to the front room. She slipped inside, locked the door and crept into bed with Tommy and Dolly, holding her sleeping children close to her, her salty tears dampening their hair. She couldn’t let them be part of this any longer.

Nell woke up with a start and looked at the clock on the window ledge. She had only slept in exhausting fitful bursts – with her night haunted by visions of what George had done to her – and was traumatised to realise that she must have drifted off at last and that she’d overslept. It was half past seven and she hadn’t even given the twins their breakfast. Now knowing what George was capable of, she was terrified. He’d be furious when they got back from the market.

She eased her way out of the double bed so as not to disturb the children, and put on her soft-soled slippers to muffle the sound of her footsteps. She’d wash and dress, then once the children were ready the three of them would get out of there for the day – well away from the twins when they returned this afternoon, and as far away as possible from the stench of George’s sour breath in her nostrils. It would give her time to work out what to do.

Gently, she closed the door to the front room, and began to creep along the passageway to Stephen’s bedroom to fetch her clothes, but as she came to the hallstand she pulled up short. Thrown across it were George’s and Lily’s coats.
They must have been so drunk last night that they’d overslept as well. They’d never have missed a market day when their father was alive. He wouldn’t have let them.

She looked at the door to Stephen’s room. It was closed. She moved up to it and listened.

Snoring.

George was still in there. What was she going to do about getting dressed? And how about her brooch? Say he found it? She didn’t dare risk waking him – he might do that to her again. She would just have to manage with what she had, and hope that he was too lazy to go through the drawer. Maybe he had been so drunk last night that he’d forgotten all about what he had done to her.

Maybe.

At least the children’s clothes were safely in the front room.

She went into the kitchen, poured two cups of milk and then spread two slices of bread with the jam that in the past had always been only for Stephen’s consumption, all the while thinking where she could take the children. Somewhere, anywhere well out of the way of the twins.

There was only one place.

‘Sorry to disturb you, Bernie,’ said Nell, standing on the front step of the Hope, with a wary-looking child holding onto each of her hands. ‘I know it’s early but I was wondering if I could have a word with Sylvia.’

Bernie had been about to shout at whoever was knocking on his door at this time of the morning – especially as the wake, with its free food and booze, had gone on until the early hours – but he was momentarily lost for words. He was hardly a fashion plate in his plaid dressing gown and grey ankle socks, but Nell, well she looked like a bloody scarecrow. He eyed her up and down. Why the hell was she wearing a coat over a nightdress that was dangling down past her knees? And she had bare legs and was wearing slippers. Had she gone doolally or something? You did hear about deaths in the family taking people in all sorts of funny ways. He could only hope it didn’t drive her to start shooting her mouth off. How much did she know about what Stephen had been up to, and, moreover, did she know how closely he, Bernie Woods, had been involved?

‘Morning, Nell,’ he said, pulling himself together. ‘Sorry I didn’t have a chance to speak to you properly after the funeral yesterday, but I was trying to be a good host – you understand. It was a rotten old business and I tried to do my best for you both, putting on a decent show.’

Nell nodded absently. ‘Can I see Sylvia?’

‘Go through and sit down and I’ll give her a call for you.’

At least if she was safely inside no one could see what a mess she looked and start asking awkward questions.

Sylvia wasn’t as reticent as her husband. ‘For goodness sake, Nell, will you look at yourself? Whatever are you doing coming out like that? You look like you’ve just got out of bed.’ She turned to Bernie as if he knew what was going on. ‘It was bad enough when she showed up wearing her apron and no coat, but did she really come here on the bus in her slippers and nightdress?’

Bernie shrugged. ‘Search me what’s she’s up to. Now if no one minds I’ve got to go upstairs and see to something.’

Tommy looked at his mum; he’d known there was something not right about how she was dressed, but with the way she was acting, and everything being turned upside down, he’d been too frightened to ask.

‘I didn’t want to disturb George,’ Nell said, ‘or Lily. They both had a late night. After the funeral and that. And what with all the upset they’ve had, it would have been unkind.’

‘If you say so,’ said Sylvia, looking at her doubtfully. ‘But for the life of me I can’t see how you getting dressed would upset even that pair, but let’s all go upstairs and have a cup of tea, shall we? Come on kids.’

With that, she took the children’s hands and nodded for Nell to go over to the stairway.

Bernie was in the kitchen drinking tea and flicking through the paper; he didn’t seem best pleased to see his wife, Nell and the kids standing there in front of him.

‘You might as well take your tea back to bed with you, Bern.’ Sylvia shot her husband a meaningful
go on, leave us alone
look. ‘Me and Nell will only drive you mad with all our nattering. You know what we’re like when we get going.’

Bernie thought for a moment. Why was she so keen to get rid of him? Was she making her mad plans again?

‘No, I’m fine here, thanks, Sylv,’ he said. ‘I’m awake now. I’ll have a bit of breakfast in a minute, then I’ll get on with the bottling up.’

‘Thanks for nothing,’ Sylvia mouthed at him as she picked up the teapot, weighing it to see if there was any left, and then poured a cup each for her and Nell.

‘How about you, Tommy and Dolly?’

Were they being offered a cup of tea? Wasn’t that for grown-ups? Bewildered by all these strange goings-on, the children looked at their mother for guidance as to how they should answer.

Nell nodded.

‘Yes please,’ said Tommy.

‘How about a nice drop of milky tea for you and all, Dolly? With a couple of sugars?’ Sylvia turned to glare at Bernie. ‘And as Uncle Bernie’s going to make himself a bit of breakfast before he starts work, he can make you two a nice bacon sandwich each while he’s at it.’

First jam, now a cup of tea, and a bacon sandwich – all in one day? Tommy forgot about feeling confused and frightened – it looked like
things were turning out all right this morning. If only his mum would cheer up a bit and the twins would drop dead, things wouldn’t be half bad.

Reluctantly, Bernie started cooking the breakfast – at least it meant he could stay in the kitchen and keep an eye and an ear on what was going on – with Tommy and Dolly standing on either side of him like a pair of bacon-sniffing bookends. And it wasn’t too bad, actually; they weren’t horrible, not like some kids you came across.