The Favourite Child (50 page)

Violet shook her head in doleful despair, her chubby jowls vibrating in sympathy. ‘Nay, that sounds bad, I will admit.’ And then, brightening, added, ‘But he’s been up to his oxters in childer all his life. Thee can’t blame t’lad fer wanting a rest, now can ya?’

‘No, I do see that. I do really but ...’

‘And your behaviour weren’t exactly the soul of discretion, were it? Bothering with that piece of muck. Thee needs yer head lookin’ at.’

Bella sighed. ‘We both made mistakes, I do agree, but ...’

‘Don’t you miss him? Thee was always laughing over summat, pair on you. Happy as sandboys, you were. Not that it’s any of my business,’ Violet added, as if she hadn’t made it such.

‘Yes, of course I miss him. How could I not? He’s in my mind day and night. It’s as if I’ve lost a part of myself. Oh, I’ll think about it, I will really, but I’m not making any promises so don’t grin at me like that. Violet. Don’t you dare give him any hope. I need time to think.’

‘Me lips is sealed.’ Her bright little eyes, however, sunk within their layers of flesh, were shining with new hope.

Dan stood on the canal towpath facing his enemy. Recalling all too clearly Bella’s startled reaction to his approach, the way she’d constantly glanced back over her shoulder throughout their brief conversation, he felt he could at least make sure she was safe. Even if she no longer loved him, never wanted to speak to him again, he could at least do that much for her.

He told Quinn, in no uncertain terms, to stay out of Bella’s life. ‘Don’t you see what you’ve done? You’ve damaged her. She used to be full of confidence and happiness, a lovely, laughing girl with a free spirit. Now, despite having come up in the world, which is more’n you’ll ever do, Billy Quinn, she’s still nervous, always looking over her shoulder as if expecting to find your ugly face not far behind. I thought I’d made it clear, when I beat you fair and square in that fight, that you were to leave her well alone. Were you wanting another pasting, happen?’

Quinn gave his wolfish grin. ‘It might prove interesting.’

‘Don’t push your luck, Quinn. I’ll have your head on a platter if you so much as touch her.’ Reaching forward with both hands, Dan grasped him by the collar and almost lifted him off his feet. ‘You’re frightening her, so lay off. Or I’ll teach you the real meaning of fear. And just in case that message still hasn’t got through, let’s wash your ears out.’ After dangling him for a few precarious seconds by his lapels, Dan casually dropped him into the canal. Quinn sank in the filthy brown water, came spluttering back to the surface to find a sea of faces on the canal bank all laughing down at him, their mouths agape with the pleasure of witnessing the Irishman get a taste of his own medicine for once.

By the time he’d clambered out to stand dripping on the path, Dan had gone.

‘Len! Where the ‘ell are you when yer needed?’ Len came hurrying over, looking anxious. ‘Why didn’t you stop him, ye great eejit? Don’t stand there gawping - get me some bleedin’ clothes. You and me has to talk.’

Dusk was falling as Bella walked home later that same afternoon. Still too early for the lamplighter, the streets were surprisingly quiet as people gathered indoors eating their supper or preparing for the night shift. She hurried on her way, as always these days, her gaze darting to right and left, constantly checking that she wasn’t being followed. The moment she heard the scrape of clog irons on the setts behind her, she half swung about to see who it was. Perhaps Dan, coming to make yet another apology.

She never got the chance to see before everything went black. Someone had thrown a sack over her head. Arms were holding her tight, lifting her off her feet, and the next instant she was being slung over someone’s shoulder. Then she was being carried away, her abductor running at a fair lick over the cobbles. Though she kicked, screamed and shouted as hard as she could, she held out little hope that anyone would hear her.

Emily Ashton gazed at Violet as if she’d dropped in from another planet. ‘Abducted? What on earth are you talking about? Have you women nothing better to do than to spread tittle-tattle about my daughter? Who is it she’s supposedly run off with this time?’

Violet stood stolidly in the centre of the small shop which was as yet only dimly lit as dawn peeped in through the shutters. She folded her arms and planted her legs firmly. Only a tank could have shifted her and stopped her from speaking her mind. ‘Thee were ready enough to believe the gossip last time, when it weren’t true, so why not now when it is? Bella’s gone. Vanished. Disappeared off the face of the earth. She didn’t land home last night. Tilly’s been going frantic. Then this morning she should’ve met Dr Syd at the new clinic and hasn’t turned up for that neither. We’ve looked everywhere and don’t know where to look next. I’d call in the police, excepting’ they’d be no use. She’s a grown woman and can do what she likes in their opinion, even vanish for no reason.’

‘Perhaps she’s with this - this man she took up with.’ Emily spoke as if there were a nasty smell under her nose.

‘We’ve been to Quinn’s house on Bromley Street. He isn’t there. Hasn’t been seen for months, or so his neighbours say. Though there’s talk he’s happen taken another house, some place else. We’re trying to find out if anyone knows where that might be. I wondered if you’d heard owt?’

‘Why should I know anything? I’m only her mother.’

Violet ignored the caustic remark and, looking about the dark little shop, asked if Mr Ashton was at home. On being told he was at the market going about his business, she gave up and left. It seemed nobody cared one way or the other what had happened to Bella, except her friends. And Dan. He was out of his mind with worry.

Bella’s ‘ladies’ all gathered together in the room over Aunt Edie’s shop to chew the matter over. They all knew, in their hearts, that Bella wouldn’t simply disappear. Not for a moment would she consider running off or going anywhere without telling one of them where. Wilful and headstrong she may be but never reckless, never stupid. They also knew that ever since the attack by Quinn, she’d lost some of her usual confidence and took even greater care. It was obvious to all who was the most likely culprit, particularly once Dan had confessed to his latest encounter with him. The question was how best to deal with the matter.

Dan said, ‘I’ve checked out all Quinn’s usual haunts. He’s not at any of them. He must be somewhere we haven’t thought of.’

‘He’ll be keeping his head down, lying low for a bit,’ Violet agreed.

‘But why would he take her? What has she ever done to him? I thought he was keen on her, even fond of her in his way.’

‘Obsessed more like. who knows how that rat’s mind works, but she did throw him over. Happen he objects to that, or to you giving him a ducking.’

‘He deserved it. I was telling him to lay off.’

‘Aye, well, you didn’t succeed. Thee’s only made matters worse.’ His mother wagged a finger in his face.

Mrs Solomon politely intervened in the family row. ‘It’s pointless to speculate. What matters is how we deal with it. We have to find the poor lass before it’s too late.’

‘Too late?’ Dan’s face went chalk white.

‘Aye. Too late,’ Mrs Stobbs solemnly repeated. ‘Remember what happened to Sadie, and there’s some as say he were behind Harold’s disappearance too.

‘I’d like to see his bits and pieces fried on toast.’ This from Mrs Blundell, who else?

‘Mrs Solomon is right. We should stop arguing and put our brains to steep.’ Violet propped her rolls of fat against the edge the table, making it creak in agony while she chewed on her lip, deep in thought. Almost at once she began to speak them out loud. ‘He must have her hidden somewhere, mebbe in some secret place he doesn’t use very often, or a place he used to call his own. A cellar or pub perhaps, or else a room somewhere. The question is where, and who would know?’

Dan said, ‘Jinnie! Why the hell didn’t I think. of her before!’ He was off like a shot, flying out of the door and halfway down the stairs before his mother’s shouted word gave him pause.

‘When you finds her, lad, come back here and tell us what she has to say. Any plans have to be made careful like, or that devil will win.’

The cellar was cold and damp. It smelled of dogs and sweaty fear. The fear, she realised, was her own. She couldn’t see anything because of the blindfold but Bella could hear the animals whimpering and felt a kinship with them. They were being forced into this hell hole to do their masters bidding, as was she. No, she wasn’t quite like them. She had a will of her own and would make certain that she exercised it. What his plans were for her she daren’t even think, but she’d make damn sure that he never carried them out.

First he’d locked her in a room overnight which hadn’t been too bad for all there’d been little air beyond the stink of drains, the windows being boarded up. It was no wonder that she’d barely slept a wink. Len had even brought her breakfast though of course she’d declined to eat it. Bella remembered feeling a strong sense of outrage and had asked Len why she’d been taken, what Quinn was intending to do with her.

‘He’s tried blackmail and ruining my reputation. If he hopes to get money from my family for my release, he’ll be disappointed. Even if my father had any money left, which he hasn’t, he wouldn’t pay a penny to get me back. Quinn has seen to that too. So what does he hope to achieve?’

‘Nay lass. It’s safer not to ask. Eat up. It might be your last chance today.’

But she’d stubbornly ignored the plate of bacon sandwiches, despite their tantalising smell. Len hadn’t returned until late afternoon and then only to put the sack back over her head and bring her here. All he’d said when she’d asked him where he was taking her, was that there’d been a change of plan. Now she felt so sick and weak, with fear as much as hunger, that Bella wondered if she’d been quite wise to refuse the food. She would need all her strength to survive this ordeal.

She had been aware at one point that Quinn was present; had smelled that unmistakable combination of Player’s Weights and Irish Whiskey, though he hadn’t touched her. Not yet. Perhaps she could persuade him, even now, to let her go.

Bella concentrated on breathing slowly and calmly, which wasn’t easy through the filthy gag bound tightly between her teeth. Only a deep resolve to survive made her steel herself against whatever she might have to face. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, sounding as if it came from somewhere other than her own body. But then everything felt unreal, as if this were happening to someone else and not to her at all.

She could hear a sound growing louder. The clatter of clogs and rumble of deep voices. Men, coming into the cellar, laughing and talking. Dear Lord, Quinn was holding a dog fight now, this evening, while she was hidden away in this damned cupboard. She could hear Len calling the odds, encouraging them to lay their bets. How long did Quinn mean to keep her here? Would she be able to alert anyone? Bella began to kick against the door. The noise beyond rumbled on, louder than ever. She kicked harder, praying someone would hear. Though how could they possibly through the din they were making? They were cheering now as the dogs fought. She could hear the barking, snapping and snarling, the terrible screaming yelps of one hapless victim. Her stomach lurched and it took every ounce of will power not to vomit. As the noise dropped between fights, Bella kicked the door with her heel again, using all her strength.

Suddenly the door opened and a hand grasped her neck, making her squeal in surprise. ‘Shut it, if’n ye know what’s good for ye. Just ye stay there nice and quiet, my lovely, till I’m ready to deal with ye.’

Darkness closed in again and despair settled upon her heart. How long did he intend to keep her prisoner? How would he deal with her? She didn’t care to consider.

Jinnie told them about the room off Liverpool Street, the one where Sadie had done her worst, but by the time Dan got there, it was empty and clearly had been for some time with the windows all boarded up. He tried Bromley Street again and even, once more as a result of Jinnie’s enquiries among the women who used to work in the mill, discovered his new house in Weaste. So far as he could tell from a swift reccy, that too appeared empty.