The Long Walk Home (10 page)

'Well.' He hesitated, and glanced round. 'I'm going across myself.'

'Oh, sir.' She reached to clutch his arm. 'If you'd be so kind as to lend me my fare and give me your address, I'd post it back to you tomorrow morning, honest to God.' She was about to cross herself again but then thought better of it. No point in over-egging, she considered. He might not be a believer.

She gazed at him appealingly, and as she saw the doubt disappear from his face she gave him the merest hint of a tender coaxing smile.

'Come on then,' he said, yielding. 'Let's get the tickets. It's nearly sailing time.'

Bridget scurried after him. 'You're so kind. I'm so grateful.'

'Are you?' He turned and gave her a grin. 'How grateful?'

She lowered her eyes. 'I'm not sure what you mean, sir.'

He gave a low laugh. 'I think you do. How badly do you need to cross over into Lincolnshire? I know I'll never see my money again.'

As she gazed up at him now, she saw that he was no gentleman. He was well dressed, but didn't have the air, or the manners either, of a real gentleman. He's probably just a jumped-up clerk in a shipping office, she decided.

'I need to get on that ferry,' she said softly. 'What payment do you need? Sir,' she added.

'That's more like it,' he said. 'I'll let you know once we're on board.'

Mikey leaned over the rail of the paddle steamer and looked down at the choppy water. He breathed in deeply. He was sure he could smell the sea. Couldn't smell the aroma of seed oil or factory waste, anyway. Across the water he could see the low-lying Lincolnshire coastline. A few buildings, one or two chimneys belching out smoke, but otherwise it looked quite empty. Shan't stop there, he thought. I'll need a bit of company. But it's a starting point and I'll ask for the London road.

He felt a surge of excitement in the pit of his stomach at the prospect. I'll come back one day, of course. He turned round and leaned against the rail to look back at the pier head before the ferry departed, and saw Bridget coming across the gangplank in the company of a man.

'Dammit,' he muttered. 'She's followed me.'

He saw her look his way but she didn't acknowledge him and he was puzzled. Who's she with? It's nobody I know, and where did she get 'money for 'ticket? A faint suspicion filled his head when he saw the man put his hand on Bridget's waist and usher her towards the saloon.

I don't want to be responsible for anybody else. She's a girl. I'll have to look after her and how will I find work with her tagging on? He dug his hands deep into his trouser pockets and jingled the remaining money.

She'll be a liability. Then he jumped as the ship's steam whistle blew a warning and the last few passengers came running. The water churned beneath the paddles, throwing up sparkling frothy foam, and he caught his breath in anticipation at the knowledge that he was on his way at last. To where and what? It didn't seem to matter. It was going to be exciting anyway.

'Cheerio, Hull,' he murmured, his throat tight. 'See you again sometime.'

Bridget had intended to ditch the stranger as soon as she was on board ship but he kept hold of her, ushering her towards the saloon. Except that he didn't enter, but steered her further along the companionway and into a corner, where he pinned her against the bulkhead.

'Now,' he whispered into her ear. 'Stay quite still until we set off.' As he spoke she heard the shriek of the ship's whistle and felt the throb of the paddles as they began to turn. 'Nobody'll take any notice of us,' he went on. 'The crew will be occupied and the passengers finding their seats.'

'Wh-what 'you doing?' she gasped. 'I can't breathe. Move off a bit!'

He smiled. 'And let you escape? Have you forgotten already that you owe me?'

'I said I'll pay you back,' she protested, struggling against him.

'Lift your skirt,' he commanded. 'Come on, there's nobody looking.'

She stared at him. 'Here? Are you mad? Wait till we're off 'ship, why don't you?'

'I'd not see you for dust,' he grinned, and began unbuttoning his trousers.

'Yes, you will. Honest.' She began to panic. This wasn't meant to happen. Bold, flirtatious and saucy as she knew she was, she was still a virgin. 'Somebody'll see us.' What if Mikey should come, and find them? Or the captain? But no one did. The passengers it seemed had settled into the saloon or were leaning over the rails breathing in the salty air.

He roughly pulled up her skirt and pressed himself against her. 'Come on,' he demanded. 'You know what to do.'

'I don't,' she protested. 'You're hurting me.'

He licked his lips and she saw his eyes gleam. 'Don't tell me you haven't done this before? A brazen young madam like you? What are you, just a tease?'

She shook her head and tried to push him away, but it only seemed to make him more excited and he pushed harder and harder into her.

A crewman went by and glanced in their direction. He whistled and muttered, 'Go it, mate,' and walked on. Bridget opened her mouth to shout out but the stranger put his hand over it, stopping her breath.

'Come on,' he urged. 'You're enjoying it, you know you are.' Just as she felt that she was being torn in two, his face became red and he started to grunt and pant. She wanted to scream; she felt as if she was on fire as he plunged deeper and deeper into her, gripping her buttocks with his sharp fingernails; and then suddenly it was over. He withdrew, leaving her sore and bleeding. She screwed up her eyes and pressed her lips together, trying not to cry.

He glanced over his shoulder and buttoned himself up. 'Told you nobody would come, didn't I?' He laughed. 'Good thing my wife isn't on board!'

'Bastard!' she muttered.

He grinned. 'Well I enjoyed it. Haven't been with a virgin in a long time.' He flicked imaginary specks from his jacket. 'I honestly thought you were on the game. I didn't believe that tale about your sick auntie. Or your Irish accent! I could meet you again, if you like.' He put his hand in his pocket and drew out a sixpence. 'Here,' he said. 'Go and treat yourself.'

'And you can jump up and bite your arse,' she hissed at him, but snatched the coin from his hand. 'You forced me. I would have paid you back.'

He pinched her cheek. 'I don't think so,' he said. 'And as for forcing you, I reckon you didn't need much forcing. You were ripe for it. I just happened along at the right time.' He straightened himself up. 'Cheerio,' he said.

'Be seeing you.'

'Not if I see you first,' she retaliated. 'Get lost!'

When he had gone, Bridget staggered to the rail and leaned over it, breathing in great gulps of air. She felt sick and very sore. I didn't know it would be like that. I thought it would be thrilling and passionate. Perhaps it is with somebody you care for or maybe it's always like this 'first time. Her eyes prickled with tears. She had enticed men before but had never allowed them to go too far. It's your own fault, Bridget Turner, she thought pragmatically. It was bound to happen sooner or later, but I'd like to have chosen with which man. But there, it's done with now. I'm a woman not a girl.

She spent ten minutes or so composing herself and then sauntered round the deck, coming across Mikey leaning on the ship's rail. 'Hello, Mikey. Fancy seeing you here!'

He turned, reluctantly it seemed to her. Perhaps he'd seen her come aboard with a man. Maybe he's jealous, she thought hopefully.

'You can't come wi' me, Bridget,' were his first words. 'I telled you I was going to look for work.'

'I know. I know!' she said. 'But I'm seeking work too so we could travel together. You don't have to watch out for me,' she added. 'I can watch out for myself. I'm older than you.'

He shrugged and turned back to look over the water and the nearing Lincolnshire shore. 'Suit yoursen,' he muttered. 'But I'm heading for London.'

'London! That's miles away! I could come wi' you,' she said, as he knew she would. 'Go on, Mikey,' she urged. 'Let me. I won't be a bother and I'd be company for you.'

'I said suit yoursen, didn't I?' he said irritably, but a small part of him thought that it would be quite good to have company, though Bridget wouldn't have been his first choice. 'But you'll have to fend for yoursen.'

'I will,' she said. 'I know how.' She sat down on the bench near him, wincing and giving a small gasp as she did so.

He looked down at her. 'What's up?'

She shook her head. 'Nowt. I'm a woman, en't I? Sometimes we get stomach cramps.' She gave a dismissive gesture. 'We cope wi' it.'

'Have you got any money?' he asked, as the ferry docked at the end of the journey.

'A tanner,' she said, fingering the sixpence the stranger had given her. 'And a few coppers.'

'Shan't get far wi' that,' he muttered.

'No,' she said vaguely as she spotted the stranger waving to a woman on the shore. 'But I might be able to get some more. Wait for me, Mikey,' she said urgently. 'Wait on 'dockside. Don't go wi'out me.'

She dashed away and he saw her weaving her way through the passengers waiting to alight. What's she up to, he wondered. Where's she going?

'Hello again,' Bridget said, and the man jumped, startled, as she came next to him.

'What do you want?' He glanced nervously towards the dockside. 'I'm in a hurry.'

She linked her arm in his. 'You know when you said we could meet again? Well, perhaps I'd like that, after all.'

He shrugged her off. 'Yes, but not now,' he muttered. 'I'm being met.'

'Really?' She affected surprise. 'Your wife, is it? Perhaps you'd introduce us.' She gazed up at him. 'What would she think, eh, if she thought you'd been— you know? Wi' me?'

He stared at her, a horrified expression on his face. 'She— you wouldn't,' he blustered. 'She wouldn't believe you.'

Bridget pouted. 'She'd wonder though, wouldn't she? No smoke wi'out fire? And that crewman that went by, he'd know it was true. He wouldn't know you'd forced me, of course; I'd have to admit to that.' Her mouth turned down and tears filled her eyes. 'And me a good Catholic girl.'

There was a thud as the gangplank hit the ground. 'All right,' he said hastily. 'How much?'

She made a moue. 'Five bob?'

He took a breath. 'It wasn't worth that much!'

'It was to me,' she said. 'You took my virginity. It was worth all of that.'

He fumbled in his pocket as he was jostled by people anxious to be off, and looked down at the coins in his hand. 'Four shillings,' he said. 'That's all I've got.'

She took the silver. 'Look in your other pocket,' she said nonchalantly, as if she had all the time in the world.

Muttering, he did so and brought out sixpence and a silk handkerchief.

'That'll do,' she said, taking them both. 'Go on then.' She smiled sweetly. 'Go and meet your lady wife, and don't forget to look behind you.'

He hurried off and Bridget laughed as she saw him dash down the gangplank and greet the woman, then glance behind him before urging her away towards a waiting cabriolet.

Bridget ambled down to the dockside and then began to hurry as she saw Mikey pacing impatiently. 'Mikey,' she called. 'I'm here. Sorry. Had a call o' nature.'

'Come on then,' he said. 'Let's be off. I'd like to be in Lincoln by nightfall.'

'He's coming, poor lamb.' Nanny peered from behind the window drapes as the chaise drew up at the door. Simon had suffered the ignominy of travelling by public coach from school to the railway station, and now a hired vehicle was transporting him and his luggage on the last lap of his journey.

Eleanor peered from beneath Nanny's arm. 'I hope Papa doesn't beat him,' she said softly. 'I so hate it when Simon cries.' And he takes it out on me sometimes if he thinks I've heard him, she thought. The last two times Simon had been beaten by his father he had held Eleanor against the wall afterwards and punched her in the stomach and warned her not to tell anyone.

'We must be patient with him,' Nanny said. 'Though it will be difficult if we can't speak to him.'

Eleanor opened the door to her room just a crack and listened intently for the sound of voices. She heard her father giving terse instructions and she could imagine him standing in front of Mary telling her that the servants mustn't speak to Simon either. Then she heard her brother dragging his bag up the stairs. She turned a tearful face to Nanny. 'Poor Simon,' she said. 'Whatever will he do?'

Simon passed her door and looked in. He lifted his top lip sneeringly. 'I'm to unpack, wash and change and then go down for a beating,' he muttered and, as Eleanor took a gasping breath, added scornfully, 'Nobody need think I'm scared of that, because I'm not.' He glanced at Nanny, and Eleanor saw him give a hard swallow and blink his eyes before moving on.

Nanny tutted and shook her head, then sighed. 'Nothing we can do, my dear. I'm afraid he's brought it on himself.'

Eleanor hung about the landing, unable to concentrate on anything but Simon, even though Miss Wright had set her some schoolwork. If only I could speak to him, she thought, I would tell him that I am his friend as well as his sister. What would I do, I wonder, if this was happening to me? I would be very unhappy, I know that. And I think— yes, I know, she mused, that I would probably run away.

Simon's door opened and closed and Eleanor waited as he came towards her. He put his face close to hers. 'Going to listen for me crying, are you?' he hissed. She shook her head and mouthed
no
. Then she put out her hand to his. For a second he looked at it and then dashed it away. 'Don't need your pity,' he muttered. 'Don't need anybody's.'

She watched him walk defiantly down the stairs and then went back into her room and closed the door.

I'll not cry, Simon thought. I'll not give him that satisfaction. Right now he hated his father. He hated his teachers too. Especially those who he knew enjoyed giving physical pain. Why should I be beaten because I can't answer a question? He had on occasion challenged his tutors, which had led to another stroke of the cane. I'm not academic, not scientific. I like art. I'd like to paint. But that isn't considered a suitable profession for the only son of a lawyer.