Six

‘I don’t know about you lot, but I’ve had enough for today,’ Emily said on the Thursday evening when they’d all worked later than usual. Already it was seven o’clock. She stepped back from her wheel and shook the black dust from her apron. ‘Nights are pulling in now we’re in September. It seems to get dark quicker here than in the country, but maybe that’s just my imagination. Anyway, I don’t fancy staying too late and having to walk home in the pitch-black.’ She left the words unspoken but they all knew what she meant: not now Mick Dugdale might be roaming the city streets.

The machines slowed.

‘Just let me finish these spoons and I’m right with you,’ Nell said, as the other girls tidied up their workbenches and collected their belongings from the little room at the rear of the workshop. They clattered down the stairs, walked through the workspace where a grinder, Phil Latham, had his little mester’s business on the ground floor, and out into the damp, early evening air. There were just Nell and Emily left and they exchanged a glance, remembering the time when they had been working late together and Mick Dugdale had found them.

‘You go, Emily,’ Nell said. ‘I can lock up.’

‘No, I’ll wait for you. You’ve nearly finished. Besides, we ought to stay together as much as possible just now.’

Nell pulled a wry face, understanding at once.

Emily watched her friend at work, as fascinated as ever to see the shining spoons emerge from Nell’s skilful hands. Nell Geddis had taught Emily the buffing work when they had both worked for Waterfall’s, but it had been Emily who had had the courage to keep the modest business going even after Mick’s murderous attempts. Now, she was the buffer missus in charge of four girls and it might soon be more, if their reputation continued to spread. Word travelled fast on the ‘cutlers’ grapevine’ as Emily laughingly called it. Recently, she’d hardly needed to go out looking for work; it came to them and she was spending more and more time at the wheel instead of taking care of the administrative side of the business. The paperwork piled up and she often took it home at weekends to catch up.

‘You’re working too hard,’ Trip told her constantly. ‘We should be getting out into the countryside or to see our folks on a Sunday, Emily.’ But he was proud of her achievements and his admonishments were only gentle ones.

As Nell finished the final spoon, they heard a voice calling from below. A woman’s frightened voice. ‘Nell – Nell, are you there?’

Nell’s eyes widened as she stared at Emily for a brief moment. ‘That’s me mam. Whatever—?’

Nell hurried to the stairs and almost fell down them in her haste. Emily followed, anxious too. Dora Geddis rarely ventured from her home; her legs were bad and walking very far was painful. It must be something very serious to have caused the woman to travel all the way to Rockingham Street from their home.

‘Mam –’ Nell had reached her. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’

‘It’s Lucy. She’s not come home from school.’

‘Not come home!’ Nell repeated. ‘But it’s gone seven. She should have been home three hours ago. The little tyke!’

‘Oh Nell –’ Tears flowed down Dora Geddis’s wrinkled cheeks. ‘I didn’t know what to do. I went to the school, but they said she’d left at the usual time with all the other children. Wherever can she be? She’s always been such a good girl – never caused me a minute’s worry before . . .’ Dora hesitated and added, ‘Well, only that one time last week when she was being bullied and came here to find you. Nell, you don’t think those awful girls have locked her in somewhere, do you?’

Despite her anxiety, Nell laughed grimly. ‘Not after I’d finished with them; they wouldn’t dare.’

‘Could she be playing out somewhere or have gone to a friend’s house,’ Emily put in tentatively, ‘and lost track of the time?’

Nell shook her head. ‘No. She might play out later, but she knows now that she must go straight home to Mam first. Last week – when she came here – was the first time she’d ever done such a thing, wasn’t it, Mam?’

Dora nodded.

Nell bit her lip, her eyes anxious, but then there was a sudden spark of anger. ‘If she hasn’t . . .’ The words and her tone implied that Lucy would be in big trouble if she had been disobedient.

‘Do you think those bullies have waylaid her?’ Emily suggested. ‘Maybe it isn’t her fault.’

‘If they have, I wouldn’t be in their shoes when I catch up with them again.’

‘Should we go to the police?’ Dora asked hesitantly.

Nell glanced at her briefly and then looked away. ‘No,’ she said firmly, ‘but I know who I can ask.’

Dora gave a soft sigh and nodded. ‘Aye, you’re right, Nell. He’d be the one to help us, though—’

Nell touched her mother’s arm. ‘It’s all right, Mam. Steve knows what the score is.’

Catching on, Emily said, ‘Steve? Steve Henderson?’

Even amidst her anxiety, Nell smiled wryly. ‘He is Lucy’s dad, Emily. You know that. And if anyone knows what’s going on in this city, then it’s Steve.’

Emily forbore to say what she was thinking. Of course he does, because he’s behind most of what happens – the criminal activities, that is. But she said nothing. Nell would sup with the Devil if it meant finding Lucy quickly and Emily, for one, couldn’t blame her. Emily and Trip longed to have children and though it hadn’t happened yet, she could imagine a mother’s fear only too well. And she could come close; if something like this were to happen to Harry, her little nephew, whom she adored . . .

Steve Henderson, the leader of the largest gang in the city, was Mick Dugdale’s sworn enemy. Once they had been friends, but then their two gangs had opposed each other until the day that Mick had been forced to flee the city after his attempt on Nell’s and Emily’s lives. Rumour had it that he now had a jagged scar down the left-hand side of his face; a parting gift from Steve. With their leader gone, the Dugdale gang had fallen apart and its members had joined other mobs, one or two even gravitating towards Steve. But now, Mick was back . . .

‘Nell,’ Emily said swiftly, ‘do you think Mick might have something to do with this?’

Nell stared at her in horror before whispering, ‘Oh my God, Emily. Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.’

Emily gripped her arm. ‘Come on, we’d best get moving. Do you know how to get hold of Steve?’ Whilst Emily wouldn’t normally have been party to using a gang member instead of the police, sadly, on this occasion – if her supposition was right – she had to admit that Steve was probably the best person to help.

Nell nodded.

‘Then you go and find him and I’ll take your mother home—’

‘No – no,’ Dora protested. ‘You go with Nell. I’ll be all right. Just – just find her.’ The woman dissolved into tears again.

Swiftly, they left the premises and Emily locked the door. Dora started to walk slowly home but Nell and Emily were running up the street, then twisting and turning through the back alleys, with Emily clinging on to the back of Nell’s skirt.

‘I hope you know where we’re going, Nell,’ she panted, ‘because I’m completely lost.’

‘I know this city like the back of me hand. Don’t worry, just hang on to me.’

After what seemed an age, Nell slowed her pace and then paused outside the passageway between two terraced houses.

‘This is it. Come on.’ She led the way into the darkness of the passage, lifted the latch on the back gate and they stepped into a surprisingly tidy backyard. Emily was not sure what she had expected the yard of the house where a notorious gang leader lived to look like, but it was not this. In the evening light, she made out the shapes. In one corner stood the usual outhouses – the privy and washhouse. To one side of the yard, she saw a raised bed, planted with herbs and flowers and wondered whether a woman lived here too, who used herbs in her cooking and decorated the house with flowers? Despite what Nell had always believed – that Steve wanted to marry her – had he grown tired of waiting and found himself a wife?

Nell was knocking loudly on the back door, the sound echoing across the row of backyards. After a moment, the door was flung open and a tall, broad-shouldered young man stood there.

‘Nell!’ His surprise was obvious. ‘Come in.’ Then he spotted Emily standing in the shadows behind her. ‘Both of you.’

As they moved into the light of the kitchen, Emily was surprised to see that Steve Henderson was fair-haired with a firm chin and the bluest eyes she had ever seen. He was very good-looking and, like his backyard, nothing like the gangster type Emily had expected to see.

‘Oh my goodness,’ she said. ‘It’s you!’

Now, for the first time, for his attention had been wholly on Nell, he looked at Emily. ‘Ah yes, my damsel in distress. Fancy seeing you again.’

He said no more for the moment as his attention went back to Nell’s obvious distress. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

‘Lucy!’ Nell gasped, her hand to her chest as if she had a violent pain there. ‘She’s gone.’

‘Gone? What d’you mean, “gone”?’

Nell swayed and her face turned deathly white. Steve took hold of her and lowered her into a chair, bending over her solicitously. Nell closed her eyes and leaned back, fear and exhaustion taking its toll. Swiftly, Emily took up the explanation. ‘Lucy didn’t go home from school as she always does. Nell’s mam came to our workshop just as we were leaving.’

‘Good Lord! The old girl must have been worried, if she walked all that way. She hardly ever goes out, does she?’

It seemed Steve knew all about his ‘family’. Even though they didn’t live together – would never do so until Steve changed his disreputable ways – Emily knew that Nell allowed him to see Lucy as often as he wished.

‘He’s her dad,’ Nell had explained simply. ‘And whilst I don’t want her knowing what he does – not yet anyway, though I expect as she gets older she’ll find out – I wouldn’t keep her from seeing him. She loves him to bits and he’s so good with her. If only . . .’

And now they were here to ask for his help in finding his daughter.

Seeing that Nell’s colour was coming back, Steve straightened up and went towards the hob. Deftly, he made tea for them all. Watching him, Emily could sense that he was efficient in the kitchen. Perhaps he did live alone.

As they sat around the table, he said, ‘Could she have gone to a friend’s house? Have you checked with the school and all her friends?’

Shakily, Nell said, ‘Mam went to the school first, but they said she’d left at the usual time with all the other children, and no, we haven’t been round her friends. I – I came straight to you. I couldn’t think what else to do.’

Go to the police, Emily wanted to shout, but she kept silent. She knew it was not what Nell – and certainly not what Steve – would want. But the police force would have the resources. They could have policemen searching the streets within minutes, couldn’t they?

Steve took hold of Nell’s hand. ‘You did t’right thing.’ He spoke with the Sheffield dialect; he was clean-shaven, his hair neatly trimmed and he was dressed in well-cut clothes. It was another surprise and Emily realized that she had been unfair in having a picture of an ugly, scruffy thug in her mind. The sound of his voice dragged Emily back to listen to what he was saying. ‘I’ll get t’lads out looking and get in touch with t’other leaders too.’

Nell gasped and stared at him. ‘Of the other gangs in the city, you mean?’

Steve nodded.

‘But – but – they’re your sworn enemies, aren’t they?’

Steve laughed. ‘Most of the time, yes, if we tread on each other’s toes or try to take over someone else’s patch, but when it’s something like this, especially when the safety of a child is involved, then we’re just one big happy family.’ There was irony in his tone and yet truth in what he said. Emily had heard that even the old lags in prison hated any crime that involved harming a child and those inmates convicted of such heinous acts were given a tough time inside. It seemed that there really was some kind of ‘honour amongst thieves’. And it looked as if Steve was about to prove that there was the same code on the outside too.

‘Emily had an idea,’ Nell said. ‘I hope she’s not right, but . . .’

Steve glanced towards Emily as she said, ‘You know that Mick Dugdale is back, don’t you?’

Steve nodded and though his blue eyes were fastened intently on her face and he let her continue, she could already read in his expression that his mind was leaping forward and coming to the same thought.

‘Do you think he could have taken her?’

Steve’s face was thunderous. ‘Quite possibly. And if he has . . .’ He left the words hanging, but the dire threat was there.

Nell leaned forward and clasped Steve’s hands tightly in her own. ‘Don’t start a street war, Steve. Please. Just get Lucy back safe and sound.’

‘I will. I promise you I will, Nell.’ Now they were gazing at each other, drinking in the sight of each other, united in the greatest fear that any parent can know. ‘You go home, Nell, and stay with the old girl. Leave it to me.’

They all stood up and, briefly, Steve held Nell in his arms, laying his cheek against her hair. ‘I’ll find her, Nell.’

Nell buried her face against his chest. After a moment, she drew back and turned to leave. Pausing a moment near the open door, Steve held out his hand to Emily. ‘I’m pleased to meet you properly this time, Emily, though I’m sorry it’s in such circumstances. You’ve been good to my Nell and I never forget a kindness.’ His face darkened for a moment. ‘In the same way, I never forget someone who crosses me.’

Emily felt her hand enclosed gently in his warm grasp. She looked up into his face. ‘What can we do to help? Is there anything Trip can do?’

Steve nodded. ‘Yes, he can get the cutlers’ grapevine into action. Get the word out amongst his own employees and news will soon spread to other factories in the city.’

‘I will. I’ll tell him the moment I get home.’

Steve was still holding her hand and now his own pressed it more tightly. ‘Just one thing, Emily. No police.’

She stared at him for a long moment before saying, ‘I can’t promise on Trip’s behalf, Steve, but I’ll do my best to dissuade him. I give you my word on that.’

Steve nodded. ‘So be it.’

‘The main thing is that we find Lucy – however it’s done.’

She could see the struggle in his face, but then he nodded and murmured, ‘You’re right, of course.’

For the safe return of his missing daughter, Steve was even prepared to take the risk of giving up his own freedom.