Spoils of War (9 page)

The one, the only, thing she couldn’t bear was the thought of never seeing him again because if that happened she knew she wouldn’t want to live. Not even for Theo.

Before the war she had flattered herself that she understood Charlie, and the grief that had almost destroyed him when he had been forced to leave Russia and all hope of finding his family. But then, before the war they had been close. Each had known what the other would say before it was said. She had asked him not to sign up for active service and later to turn down the offer of special duties, but she had
asked –
not demanded or begged. If she had been more insistent, would he have listened? And if he had, would things have been any different? Would he have had a normal soldier’s war, whatever that was? Spent five years in a POW camp, like Andrew, or fought in Italy alongside William and Ronnie – or, worse of all, died a hero’s death at Dunkirk like Bethan’s brother Eddie?

‘What ifs?’ … Stupid useless regrets for what might have been. Charlie was here, now, she had to talk to him before he left and it was too late.

Switching on the lamp, she slipped out of bed, wincing as her feet sought her slippers on the cold floor. Picking up her striped flannel dressing gown, she tied it around her waist and opened the door. The door to the living room was closed. She turned the knob and stepped inside. The standard lamp burned behind Charlie’s chair. A notepad and pencil lay loosely on his lap between his relaxed fingers. He was asleep.

Treading softly so as not to wake him she reached for the blanket folded on the sofa intending to drape it over him. Then she saw the envelope lying on the table. It bore two addresses: one in the Cyrillic alphabet she had asked Charlie to teach her when she’d seen him use it to work out costings for the business before the war, the other in English.

There hadn’t been time for her to master more than a few words of Russian and no time at all for the Russian alphabet, but there was no mistaking the addressee.

Mrs Maria (Masha) Andreyeva Raschenkova.

Alma stood and stared at it. For the first time she realised that if this woman was Charlie’s legal wife, her life would change absolutely and irrevocably. Whatever else, Masha was Charlie’s first love and, knowing him, he would be totally and completely faithful to her. There would be no room in his life for a mistress even if she had been a wife of sorts to him for seven years. But where did that leave her – and Theo?

Chapter Five

Slowly and carefully so as not to disturb Billy, William withdrew his arm from beneath the small boy’s head and shook it in an attempt to ease his cramped muscles. After glancing at his wristwatch, which was just about readable in the dim glow from the nightlight, he looked across to where Tina was cuddling Catrina and saw that although the child’s eyes were closed, his wife’s were open. Nodding towards the door, he crept stealthily towards it. Turning the knob quietly, he stepped through to the landing.

‘It’s four o’clock,’ Tina whispered as she followed him.

‘I know, and I haven’t slept a wink, have you?’

She shook her head. ‘But at least the children have.’

‘Fancy some tea?’

‘I don’t fancy going into that kitchen. I wonder why Bethan hasn’t telephoned.’

‘Because she hasn’t any news.’

Tina fell silent. Something in Will’s tone reminded her that there was news besides good and she realised she’d been hoping – no
expecting –
to hear that Diana was going to be fine.

‘The children all right?’

‘Sleeping, Constable … ?’

‘Hopkins, sir.’

‘Is my uncle around?’

‘Sergeant stopped by to pick him up, sir. He was needed elsewhere.’

‘For something more important?’ Tina enquired acidly.

‘I wasn’t privy to whatever it was, Mrs Powell.’

‘Come on, Tina, let’s sit down.’

‘My orders are not to let anyone in the kitchen until after the detectives look it over in the morning, sir.’

‘That’s all right, we’ll go into the parlour.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m not even allowed in the kitchen to make tea.’

‘In that case we’ll have to make do with something stronger.’ William produced a hip flask from his top pocket and offered it to the constable.

‘Not allowed on duty, sir.’

‘No one’s here to see. Go on …’

The boy didn’t need any more urging. He finished the capful William handed him and looked disappointed when William took the flask along with himself into the parlour.

‘This wasn’t quite what I had in mind for my first night back,’ he said, sinking his face into his hands as he sat alongside Tina on the sofa.

‘I still can’t understand what happened. There’s no way Diana could have fallen through that window. The chair was in the way.’

‘There’s no point talking about it …’ He shot up as he heard voices at the door. Diving out into the passage, he looked from Huw to Bethan.

‘Let’s go into the parlour,’ Huw suggested, sniffing the air in front of Hopkins and giving him a hard look.

‘There’s no real news.’ Bethan covered Tina’s hand with her own as she sat next to her. ‘All I can tell you is that Diana’s survived the operation but she has a skull fracture and we won’t know the extent of her injuries until she comes round, which could take days or even, I hate to say it, weeks.’

‘And Ronnie?’ Tina asked.

‘He came round but he became hysterical when I told him he couldn’t see Diana so we had to sedate him again.’

‘I’m sorry, love.’ Huw patted Tina’s shoulder clumsily as he looked to William. ‘But we’ve got to be practical. Bethan and I thought it might be an idea to move the children.’

‘Now?’

‘It’s best they leave before the neighbours are about. If you two pack their things we’ll take them to my house. I know Myrtle’s not up to looking after them and I have to work, but we’ve three spare bedrooms as well as a parlour we never use, so I thought that perhaps you two could stay there with them until your mam comes back, Will. Knowing her, she’ll want to take care of Billy and Catrina for the time being, and as Dino’s bought that house in our street Billy and Catrina won’t have far to move when Megan does come home. In my opinion, the less upset they have to cope with after this night the better.’

‘They and you are welcome to stay with me,’ Bethan offered.

‘Thanks, Beth, but as Uncle Huw said, it makes more sense to take them to his house. Mam will be home like a shot when she hears about this and she’ll want Billy and Catrina with her.’

‘Are you going to telephone her?’

William looked at his watch again.

‘I am, but not this early. What do you think, Uncle Huw? Eight o’clock.’

‘Knowing Megan, big as you are, she’ll put you over her knee if you make it any later.’

‘Then we’d better get Billy and Catrina’s things together,’ Tina said.

‘Andrew had to make a call down the police station. As soon as he’s finished, he’ll be here to pick us up. Could you and Will pack their clothes, Tina? You know where Diana kept – keeps them?’

‘Yes, I do, and thanks, Beth,’ Tina said gratefully.

‘Good, the sooner we get started the sooner we can move them out of this house.’

*……*……*

‘We tried to get you an hour ago, Dr John.’

‘I was operating.’ Andrew refused to elaborate further. The worst part of being a small-town doctor, and the only aspect he truly resented, was the universal assumption of Pontypridd’s inhabitants that they had the right to demand his undivided attention at any hour of the day or night and this was proving to be an exceptionally long night.

‘He’s in the cells. If you’d like to follow me, doctor …’

The duty sergeant reached for the keys behind the reception area and unlocked the door that led to the stairs and basement.

‘Constable Davies mentioned that you’d picked up a drunk in Leyshon Street.’ Andrew chose his words carefully, knowing that Huw had told him more about Tony Ronconi and his bizarre confession than he should have.

‘Drunk with cuts and bruises. If he’d been the run-of-the- mill Saturday night troublemaker we wouldn’t have bothered you, Dr John. To be honest there wasn’t even much point going through the usual “walk the white line, touch your nose with the tip of your finger” tests. The man was almost comatose. But he looked as though he’d been in a fight and you know about the rumpus in Graig Street. We heard you’d operated on the woman,’ he answered in response to Andrew’s quizzical look. ‘So, we decided to hold him until he sobered up to see if he could help with our inquiries.’

‘What do you call cuts and bruises?’ Andrew enquired.

‘His nose was bleeding and he had a few scratches and bruises on his head and hands but nothing that the duty first aider couldn’t cope with.’

‘So why am I here?’

‘When we looked in on him over an hour ago he seemed a bit more than just drunk.’

‘That’s hardly surprising, it’s freezing down here,’ Andrew remonstrated as they reached the bottom step.

‘Stone basement, doctor.’

‘And you keep people here?’

‘It’s only a holding cell, Dr John. We’re not here to mollycoddle them.’

‘Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?’ Andrew ducked his head to accommodate a dip in the ceiling that dropped it a couple of inches short of six feet. He hung back as the officer unlocked the first cell they came to.

‘When we noticed he was ill we gave him an extra blanket.’

‘I trust he was duly grateful,’ Andrew commented sarcastically as he entered the stone cell. He sniffed the air. ‘It’s not only cold, it’s damp.’

‘We’re below ground level here, doctor,’ the sergeant observed as Andrew went to the narrow, drop-down, steel shelf that held a spartan board bed. Tony Ronconi was lying alarmingly close to the edge, tossing restlessly beneath two grey woollen blankets.

‘I’m Doctor John. Do you know where you are?’ Tony’s eyes were open but Andrew noted the classic symptoms of delirium and doubted he was capable of focusing. ‘You’re in the police station. Do you remember how you got here?’ His second question elicited an incoherent mumbled response.

Andrew turned to the sergeant. ‘Have you sent for an ambulance?’

‘Thought it best to wait until you got here, doctor.’

‘Do it now, Sergeant.’

The sergeant ran off. Andrew heard him shouting up the stairs as he removed his stethoscope from his bag, folded back the blankets, and began his examination.

‘Is it bad, doctor?’ The sergeant returned and hovered anxiously at the cell door, as Andrew closed his bag and replaced the blankets.

‘Both lungs are infected. It looks like pneumonia and, frankly, I don’t know if he’ll survive. Have you contacted his family?’

‘We were going to wait until morning, Dr John. It could be embarrassing for them. He only had a pair of army-issue trousers on and the flies were undone. Nothing in the pockets, no underclothes, boots or shoes. We thought it could be a domestic. Soldier home on leave, out for a good Saturday night, gets drunk, goes to see his brother’s wife. Brother comes home unexpectedly – well – you’ve been operating on Mrs Ronconi …’

‘And you were so busy concocting this little fairytale you didn’t think to call an ambulance to get this man into hospital before he died?’

‘We called you, Dr John.’

‘And I can’t be everywhere. Don’t you people ever use your own initiative?’

‘He could be connected to a potentially serious case, doctor.’

‘So you decided to freeze him to death.’

‘We wanted to question him. Besides, nine times out of ten, the Saturday night drunks wake in the morning, get their summonses and stagger off home.’

‘This one isn’t capable of staggering anywhere. Get two men to carry him upstairs. The sooner that ambulance gets here and he’s admitted into the Graig, the happier I’ll be. I’ll go on ahead and warn them he’s on his way.’

Andrew just had time to check that there was no change in Diana’s condition and Ronnie was still sleeping before the ambulance bell announced Tony’s arrival. Running up to the men’s isolation ward, he met the porters wheeling Tony into a cubicle.

‘Bronchitis?’ the ward sister asked.

‘Pneumonia, nurtured and helped along by exposure,’ Andrew pronounced authoritatively, checking Tony’s pulse.

‘Staff,’ the sister called. ‘Prepare a cold sponge bath to bring down this patient’s temperature.’

‘Is there any penicillin in the pharmacy?’

‘I’m not sure, Dr John. Even if there is, we’ll have to wait until it opens at eight to get a script filled.’

‘I’ll write him up for it anyway and I’ll call in again in a couple of hours to check on his progress.’ Andrew walked to the sink to wash his hands.

‘He’s a Ronconi, isn’t he?’

‘You know him?’

‘No, but I trained with Laura Lewis, Ronconi that was. They all have that look about them. Dark eyes, dark hair and similar features. It’s peculiar, isn’t it, how when you get to know one member of a family well, afterwards all the brothers and sisters look slightly odd, as if they’re not quite right. But I couldn’t tell you which one this is.’

‘Tony.’ Andrew took the towel she handed him.

‘The ambulance men said they picked him up at the police station. Do you want me to arrange for the relatives to be contacted?’

‘No, I’ll do it later.’

‘Don’t forget to warn them that there’s no visiting for anyone this sick.’

‘If he comes round the police will want to talk to him.’

‘Not until he’s well enough.’ She scribbled something on Tony’s chart before peering at Andrew over her glasses. ‘This is my ward, Dr John, and whatever he’s done, he’s my patient now and no one will see him until I say so.’

‘Diana?’ Ronnie asked thickly. His tongue was too big for his mouth and his lips felt as though they were made of India rubber.

‘We operated, but it’s too early to tell if there’s any permanent damage.’ Andrew checked Ronnie’s pulse.

‘Her head …’

‘We repaired the fracture as best we could.’

‘But her brain could be affected.’ Ronnie lay back on the pillows. He clearly didn’t expect Andrew to answer him because he looked across to Huw, who was sitting on the only chair in the cubicle. ‘Billy and Catrina?’

‘They’re safe in my house with William and Tina. Can you remember what happened?’

‘Tony and I had a fight. Diana tried to stop us, Tony lashed out and hit her through the window.’

‘We found Tony in Leyshon Street. All he had on was a pair of trousers.’

‘He’s in here now with pneumonia.’ Andrew decided that as Ronnie was calm enough to ask lucid questions, he might as well know the worst.

‘He was fully dressed when he ran out of our house. He had his greatcoat on.’

‘Would you like to tell me what you and Tony were fighting about?’ Huw pressed.

‘No.’

‘Tina said he called into the restaurant this afternoon to tell her he was marrying a German girl and wanted his share of the business.’

Ronnie remained silent.

‘I’m trying to help you out here, boy,’ Huw said firmly. ‘Diana’s my niece and I intend to find out how her head was cracked open.’

‘She may be your niece but she’s my wife and I just told you.’

‘You and Tony were fighting, she tried to stop you and Tony flung her through the window?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Intentionally?’

‘Not even Tony’s that vicious or stupid.’

‘Then it was an accident?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘Listen, Ronnie, if you’re covering up because you want to tackle Tony and pay him back yourself afterwards, I’ll come down on you like a ton of bricks. There’s two kids crying themselves to sleep in one of my spare bedrooms right this minute. God knows what’s going to happen to their mother. They need their father and a fat lot of use he’s going to be to them if he’s in jail.’

‘As soon as I’m out of this place, I’ll take care of them, Huw.’ Ronnie looked up at Andrew. ‘Can I see Diana?’

‘She’s unconscious. Her only chance of recovery is absolute quiet and bed rest.’

‘Nurses go into her room, don’t they?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ll be as quiet as them.’

‘You weren’t earlier and you feel like hell now because we had to sedate you twice tonight.’

‘I remember.’

‘What do you remember?’

‘Bethan coming at me with a needle. That’s a brutal wife you’ve got there.’

‘I’ll tell her what you said.’

‘She’d let me see Diana.’

‘She would not.’

‘She would, because she’d recognise that I’ve calmed down.’

‘If we get caught the sister will string me higher than St Catherine’s steeple.’

‘All I want to do is hold her hand and see her breathing for myself.’