Hannah bent over the lavatory bowl and retched but there was nothing more to bring up so she pulled the chain and went outside, trembling and filled with despair because the curse had not come and this was the sixth time she had been sick in the last week. She stood leaning against the lavatory door. Dear God, what was she to do? She didn’t know how she was going to tell her mother. Maybe if she had gone with her and the younger ones yesterday evening to Moreton then she might have found a way. Instead she had cried off because she had felt so dreadful, saying she was seeing a friend. Is this how poor Agnes had felt? How she wished she had come to her! But sadly it was too late for Agnes and she had to think of herself.
She had been too worried to give thought to the possibility that her dah really had taken up with Mrs Taylor again. But what she had feared might happen must have done, because he had gone out after supper and not come back. So Hannah had ended up alone in the house. Fortunately Bert had been out when she had gone to bed, so she’d taken the poker with her and placed a chair beneath the doorknob.
He had come in just before midnight and, rat-tatted on her bedroom door, saying, ‘Little pig little pig, let me in! Or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your door in!’
He was a big bad wolf, all right, and there was no way she was going to play his game. ‘Go away, Bert! I – I’ve got the poker here,’ she’d said.
‘There’s no need to be like that, Hanny. I thought we were friends, as well as brother and sister.’ His voice held an injured note.
‘Friends?’ She choked on the words. ‘You don’t know the meaning of the word. Just go away! When I think what happened to poor Agnes! If Mother knew-’
‘Now, Hanny, don’t talk like that. You’ll only end up in trouble if you say anything to her. She won’t believe you. Agnes could have said no, you know? But she so wanted to hang on to me that she flung herself at me. I’m only human. How could I resist?’ Trust him to lay all the blame on Agnes, thought Hannah, feeling so upset she wanted to weep. ‘You could have married her.’
Bert laughed. ‘Come off it, Hanny, I deserve better than her.’ He hammered on the door. ‘Let me in. You know you really want it. With no one else in the house we could do it a couple of times.’
She was astonished. How could he believe that was what she wanted? He had to be sick in the head. ‘Go away! If you carry on like that I’ll put my head out of the window and scream. I’ll scream so loud Dah might hear, if he’s at Mrs Taylor’s, and then you’ll be sorry!’
‘You haven’t before.’
‘That’s because I didn’t want to frighten the girls – and besides you were in the room and wouldn’t have let me get to the window – and I was so ashamed of what you did to me. You made me feel dirty!’
There was a long silence. Then she heard him sigh. ‘You’ve really hurt me saying that, Hanny. It’s not that I’m scared of Dah, but I wouldn’t like Mother upset. I’ll call it a day, but don’t think I’ll forget this.’
She heard him moving away upstairs and then the slam of his bedroom door. Even so Hannah had been unable to sleep after that. She was hurt and angry, not only with Bert, but her dah, too. He should have been there to protect her. Of course none of the dreadful happenings of the past eighteen months or so would have happened if it were not for Mal Moran but her father had to take his share of the blame. In the end she had given up trying to sleep and had got up, just as dawn was streaking the sky, lit the fire and made herself a cup of tea.
Hannah wiped a trembling hand across her sweaty face. She did not want to go back into the house until her mother returned with the kids. Bert was most likely still in bed and, so far, there was no sign of her father coming home. She would go to Alice and Kenny. They were long due a visit from her anyway and she owed Kenny a couple of letters. She had really appreciated his. Fortunately, she had put on her coat to come down the yard. All she had to do was go out of the back door and walk along the canal and up to Garden Lane and they would take her in.
When Hannah arrived at the lodging house, the man who answered the door said Alice and Kenny had gone out a while ago. Deeply disappointed and near to tears, she descended the steps wondering what to do. She thought a moment. Could they be in church still? Or could they possibly have gone straight from there to see Sebastian? Kenny had mentioned something about him being back in Chester soon. Hannah decided to head across the river to Queen’s Park.
As she walked, she knew that she still could not tell them about her troubles. She just needed their company. She considered how they had matured since having to fend for themselves. They had shown they could cope on their own without their parents. How they would react if their father came back into their lives was something she had not thought about. She despaired of her own dah. How could he carry on the way he did? One thing was for sure and that was that he was in no position to preach morality to her. But what would she say if her parents asked her who the father of the baby was? Dear God! How could she tell them it was Bert? It would destroy her mother – if she could accept that her white-as-the-driven-snow son could do such a thing. Bert would probably persuade her that it was Hannah’s fault, that she had led him astray. Or he would deny it, calling her a liar and cite someone else as responsible.
By the time Hannah reached the crescent where Mrs Waters lived, she was feeling tightly wound up as a clock spring. To her disappointment, there was no sign of the automobile that Sebastian drove and he certainly wasn’t doing any gardening. Perhaps he hadn’t come this weekend. She didn’t have the nerve to knock on the door of Mrs Waters’ house and ask. It seemed she had wasted time and energy coming here and could have screamed. Slowly she walked along the crescent and then paused when she came to the house that Alice had pointed out as belonging to Mrs Black.
Curiously, Hannah gazed at the house and suddenly the door opened and a woman stood in the doorway. Was she Mrs Black? It puzzled Hannah why a woman who owned property in Liverpool and lived in such a house would have anything to do with Mal Moran. Surely she could have chosen someone better to have an affair with? Although love was an unpredictable emotion and no respecter of looks or commonsense. The woman’s grey hair hung loose about her face and she was wearing a dressing gown of pink satin. She seemed to notice Hannah and beckoned her.
Surprised but as curious as the proverbial cat, Hannah pushed open the gate and hurried up the path. The woman watched her, no emotion showing on her face. Her skin was sallow and she had bags under her eyes. ‘What is it you want, dear?’ she asked.
‘Mrs Black?’
‘Yes. Who are you?’ She watched Hannah’s face closely.
‘Hannah Kirk! You won’t have heard of me but my family live in the next street to where the Morans did. I believe you knew Mr Moran – Mr Mal Moran?’
For a moment Hannah thought the woman had not taken in what she said and was about to repeat it when her arm was seized. ‘You have news of him?’
‘Well…’ Hannah hesitated. It was obvious Mrs Black hadn’t heard from Mal Moran, so what would be the point of speaking to her?
Mrs Black smiled. ‘Don’t be shy, dear. Come on in and have a cup of tea.’
Hannah was desperate for a cup of tea. She was also hungry. Maybe she would get a biscuit with her tea. She stepped over the threshold.
‘You know where Malcolm is?’ asked Mrs Black, her mud-coloured eyes alight as she led Hannah towards the stairs.
‘No, frankly,’ said Hannah, following close on her heels. ‘I was wondering if you might. I was told he visited you eighteen months ago. He killed his wife, you know, and nearly did for my mother.’
The woman gazed blindly at the newel post. ‘So that’s why he was here,’ she whispered. ‘I knew there was something dark in his mind. It’s been closed to me since last I saw him.’ There was a short silence then her eyes focused on Hannah’s face once more. ‘Why didn’t the police come? What took you so long? Are you a friend of his daughter? Where is she?’
Hannah chose to ignore the questions. ‘We think he might be dead.’
‘Dead! Malcolm dead! Why should you think that? No. I’d have known, surely?’ Mrs Black’s face was pale. ‘Please, explain yourself. I’ll not be ungrateful.’ She squeezed Hannah’s hand. ‘A cup of tea, we’ll have a cup of tea. I’ve cake.’ She beamed at the girl. ‘Do you like Madeira?’
‘I like any cake but you don’t have to hold my hand. I’m not going to run away.’ Hannah returned her smile, thinking the woman was definitely a bit weird. That was probably why Alice had taken against her.
‘Unlike his daughter,’ said Mrs Black, as if she had read Hannah’s mind, laughing lightly. ‘Come upstairs, and make yourself comfortable, my dear. It’s a long time since I’ve entertained what I’d call a proper visitor.’ She led the way, calling over her shoulder. ‘You can’t know how I’ve worried about Malcolm. He was such a troubled man, and I was doing my best to make him better.’
Mal, troubled? Hannah found it easier to believe that it was his wife and children who were troubled… and what was it she had been doing to help him? She followed Mrs Black into a large room with windows that reached from the floor to the ceiling. Crimson velvet curtains were drawn back and fastened with silken cords. On a windowsill stood a bowl of early flowering hyacinths. The view was magnificent, the late morning sun sparkling on the Dee.
‘You know that song?’ said Mrs Black, and not waiting for an answer began to sing,
‘There was a jolly Miller once lived on the river Dee, He worked and sang from morn till night…’
Hannah grinned. She knew few people who would burst into song at the drop of a hat. ‘You’ve got a nice voice.’
Mrs Black’s eyes sparkled. ‘Thank you, dear. I often think about those words when I sit here.’ She waved Hannah to an easy chair. ‘I’ve been so concerned about Malcolm. I hate to lose anyone before I’ve finished sorting out their problems, and he was in such a mess.’
What did she mean lose? And as for problems, Hannah wished she could sort out hers. Sitting down she noticed the china teapot, a cup and saucer and a plate of cake on the occasional table. ‘I’ll fetch another cup and then you can tell me everything,’ said Mrs Black, gazing into Hannah’s eyes. ‘You look peaky. Are you all right?’ She sounded like she really cared.
Hannah was tempted to tell her the truth, then had second thoughts. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Hmmm!’ She didn’t look convinced. ‘You need someone to talk to, don’t you, dear? Such a pretty young woman you are. Have plenty of beaux, do you? I’m sure you do.’ Mrs Black stared straight into Hannah’s eyes.
If she only knew the truth, thought the girl, her eyelids drooping. She began to feel relaxed, almost languid. The scent of the hyacinths was overpowering. The woman’s soft voice seemed to be coming from a distance. ‘So tell me everything about Malcolm and his daughter, Alice, isn’t it? Tell me about yourself too?’
Between bites of cake and sips of tea Hannah told her as much as she wanted to know, of Florrie’s death and how Mal had pushed her mother downstairs and how terrible everything had been at home. She even told her about Alice and the train accident in Scotland.
When she finished Mrs Black murmured, ‘My, my, what a naughty girl Alice was stealing from her father! Resourceful, though. He was fond of her, would you believe? I do so appreciate you coming and telling me all this. There’s almost nothing worse than not knowing. I would like to help you. Your life’s been so hard lately. What is the trouble that’s worrying you so deeply, dear, that you still feel unable to mention it to me? You really do look peaky. I’ve helped out many a girl in trouble. You can tell me, you know? I can be trusted with secrets.’
The room felt hot, or maybe she was feeling so warm, thought Hannah, because she felt embarrassed, and yet she wanted so much to get her trouble off her chest. She really did feel she could trust this woman. ‘I’m having a baby.’ The words came out slowly. ‘It’s my brother’s and I don’t want it. He forced himself on me.’
‘Oh my dear! That is bad.’ Mrs Black sounded distressed and leaned towards her. ‘Best do something about it now before you’re too far gone. I have some powder that might help you. I’ll get it and you can take it in your tea. I’ve used it myself, so I know it works, but the less said about that the better.’
Mrs Black left the room and re-appeared a few minutes later. She unfolded a greaseproof paper and poured a small amount of white powder into Hannah’s cup and then re-filled it with tea. ‘Now drink that up, dear. I’ll give you the rest in case one dose doesn’t do the trick.’ She placed the small greaseproof paper sachet inside Hannah’s pocket. Obediently the girl drank the tea.
‘I really do appreciate you coming and telling me all that you have,’ said Mrs Black. ‘When you get outside you’ll go straight home, won’t you? Now eat your cake and then I’ll let you out.’
Hannah ate her cake and then followed Mrs Black downstairs. The woman went outside with her onto the pavement. ‘I hope everything works out for you, dear. And I’d stay away from that brother if I were you.’ She smoothed back Hannah’s hair from her face. ‘Does your little brother have toys? Does he have one like this?’ She showed Hannah a metal clicker. ‘When you hear it click you’ll forget having been in my house and speaking to me.’ She clicked it twice, then hurried back up the garden path to her front door.
Hannah blinked. Now where had she been going? She looked about her and recognised the crescent. What was she doing here? She was supposed to be going home. She began to walk, past an automobile. In the front passenger seat sat a young woman wearing a hat of which Hannah was immediately terribly jealous. It was made of chip straw in green and blue, trimmed with soft bronzy plumes. She wore a russet velvet jacket and pinned to her lapel was a brooch of topaz and silver.
Hannah smiled as the girl caught her eye and then she looked away quickly, thinking she looked like she had money and most likely would consider Hannah beneath her. She hurried on but had not gone far when her name was called. She hesitated. Was that Sebastian’s voice? Should she turn round? No, she had to get home, so carried on walking.
There’s something wrong with my eyes thought Hannah as she stumbled along Egerton Street, past the engineering works where Jock and Bert worked. Her head was pounding and everything looked blurred and she was so tired. She prayed that her mother would change her routine and arrive home with the kids earlier than usual so she could rest and be safe. But when she arrived at the house only the strong smell of burning and Bert were there to greet her.
He frowned at her. ‘Where the hell have you been? I thought the least you could do was make some dinner for us. I know when to take no for an answer.’ Ha! That’ll be the day! Hannah sank into an armchair and put her head in her hands. ‘What are you sitting like that for?’ Bert knocked down one of her arms and dragged her to her feet.
She could not bear him to touch her. ‘Let me go!’ she screamed. ‘I’m having a baby and now I feel like I’m dying and it’s your fault!’
He shook her by the shoulders. ‘Now you know that’s not true, Hanny. I haven’t done it to you since Mother got better.’
‘New Year!’ she gasped.
He frowned. ‘No. You’re blaming me for someone else. Your boss at work perhaps.’
‘That’s a lie!’ She glared at him. ‘You did it to me outside the lavatory. You’d been drinking. And last night you would have done it again if I hadn’t put the chair under the knob. You’re nothing but a filthy bastard!’
He hit her. ‘It’s not nice to hear such language from you.’ She gasped and put a hand to her face but before she could say anything, their father entered the room. ‘I could hear the bloody pair of yer down the yard! Have ye no thought for the neighbours?’
Hannah reached for a chair and clung to it. ‘He hit me, Dah!’ She stared at him, seeing two of him. Both faces wore a tense expression and she was terrified. Perhaps she was about to go blind!
Bert blurted out, ‘That’s because she asked for it, Dah. Was accusing me of filthy behaviour to cover up her own shameful act. Remember me telling you about that boss of hers?’
Jock clouted him across the face. ‘I heard it all. Shut your mouth, and let me think.’ Bert took a step back, his hand gripping his jaw. ‘You shouldn’t have done that, Dah. You’ve no right to talk? Carrying on with her at the back again!’
Jock’s expression was anguished, and his hands curled into fists. ‘But we’re talking here about yer doing it to your own sister and that’s terribly wrong.’
Bert’s eyes narrowed and he lowered his hand. ‘You’re making a mistake, Dah.’
‘Am I?’ Jock turned to his daughter. ‘Well, Hanny?’
She reached out a hand to him. ‘Help me, Dah!’
He took her hand and squeezed it. ‘How? You want me to tell Mother? She’s not taking my word for anything these days.’ Hannah clung to that strong, work roughened hand. She guessed that was true. She felt so ill that it was difficult to think straight or stand upright. Mother might not believe him. She would believe her so-called perfect son first. Her blue-eyed boy! Hannah would be utterly out in the cold, along with her father. She made a decision. ‘Give me some money, Dah. I’ll go to Granny Popo. She’ll help me to get rid of it.’
Jock stared at her, white about the mouth. ‘I don’t know about that, Hanny. Your mother’s told me tales that would make your toes curl. What if you were to…’
Hannah felt cold with fear but she inserted steel in her backbone and stood ramrod straight. ‘I’ll take a chance. Mother’s been hurt enough. Give me the money and expect me when you see me. Don’t tell her anything about this, and get rid of that widow. She’s done as much harm to this family as Mal Moran.’
‘I wouldn’t have gone back to her if it hadn’t been for your mother being so cold during the week and going to Joan’s and staying there every Saturday night and Sunday. I work hard, lass, and what thanks do I get?’
Oh, he was weak, thought Hannah, as she watched him dig into his pocket, take out a handful of change and give her the lot. She was scornful of his excuses but said nothing. She took the money and, ignoring Bert, she hurried out of the room. She could only pray that her brother would get his comeuppance some day. Despite feeling so ill she might drop dead any minute, she knew that she would need a few things from upstairs. If Granny succeeded in aborting the baby then she had to have rags for when she started bleeding. Maybe she had better take another dress and unmentionables. She placed them in a pillowcase. Then, with her head still feeling as if it was about to explode, she went downstairs. Her father held her tightly for a moment and surprised her by saying he loved her. Not enough, she thought as tears filled her eyes, not enough. And she left without a backward glance.
Hannah felt so dreadful that she could think no further than one step at a time, as she headed in the direction of Granny’s house. She made it across the canal and then collapsed.
When she came round, she was being carried. Astonished, she clutched one of the arms that held her and gazed up into Kenny’s anxious face. Thank God it was him. But he was not alone.
‘She’s awake!’ Dolly looked relieved. ‘Are you feeling better, Hanny? You collected quite a crowd. We didn’t half got a shock when we realised it was you. It was a worse shock when we couldn’t wake you.’
‘Thanks, Dolly.’ Hannah’s voice was just a thread of sound, and she would much rather not have her company. She had stopped liking Dolly when she had flashed her bosom at Kenny. ‘Where are you taking me?’
‘Home.’
‘No!’ Hannah could not have that and gripped Kenny’s lapels and tried to pull herself up. ‘I don’t want to go home. You’ll understand, Kenny. Bert’s there and you don’t want to see him, do you?’
His eyes scanned her agitated features and he nodded.
‘This is daft,’ said Dolly, hands on hips, looking exasperated. ‘You can’t not go home just because you say Kenny can’t stand your brother.’
‘You don’t understand,’ said Hannah fiercely, and hesitated before adding, ‘I’ve got to see Granny.’
Dolly’s eyes narrowed. ‘What for? What’s so important?’
The last thing Hannah wanted was for Dolly to know she was in trouble. ‘It’s private! None of your business.’
Dolly’s eyes flashed with annoyance. ‘We’ll take you home.’
‘No! Take me to Alice, Kenny.’
Dolly bristled. ‘She’s at our house. You’ve got to go home.’
‘Shut up!’ Hannah couldn’t stand much more. She gazed up at Kenny. ‘Please.’
He turned and began to carry her in the direction of Granny Popo’s.
Dolly gasped and hurried after them, her breasts bobbing and strands of her hair blowing in her face. ‘You’ve got a bloody cheek. D’you know that, Hanny? A mam and a dad you’ve got! I’m a bloody orphan. So why should I shut up and you not tell me why you want my gran?’
‘You’ve got a husband,’ countered Hannah, then groaned as waves of pain struck her.
Kenny’s arms tightened about her and he shook his head at Dolly, scowling at her. She pressed her lips tightly together and her expression was stony. Hannah sagged in Kenny’s arms and closed her eyes.
When they arrived at the house, Alice was kneeling on the rug playing with her sister. She looked up in surprise. ‘Hannah! I didn’t expect to see you today.’
Dolly said grimly, ‘We found her out for the count on Canal Side.’
Granny Popo’s sharp eyes fixed on Hannah’s peaky face. ‘What’s up, duck?’ Hannah did not want to say the words aloud in front of Kenny, or Dolly either. Although she might have guessed what was wrong with her. ‘I think I must have ate something that disagreed with me and Mother’s not home,’ she whispered.
‘What an excuse!’ said Dolly, dropping the stuffed pillowcase on the floor. ‘I think she’s running away myself. Been up to something if you ask me.’ She looked meaningfully at her grandmother. ‘People don’t go fainting for nothing.’
‘Hush, girl,’ muttered Granny Popo, heaving herself up from her chair. ‘Put Hanny down, lad. If something’s upset her then what she needs is a good dose of castor oil to purge her.’
Hannah looked at her in alarm. As if she wasn’t suffering enough! But perhaps the old woman was right and a purge would do her good. It would be horrible while it was happening but, hopefully, afterwards she’d be better. She watched Granny Popo open the cupboard door next to the fireplace, take out a bottle and steeled herself to take her medicine like a man.
‘If you’re going to give her that,’ said Alice, her eyes fixed on the bottle with distaste, ‘she’d be better going home. She won’t be off the lav for ages.’
Hannah looked up at Kenny and shook her head. ‘I want to go with you,’ she whispered.
Dolly heard her. ‘Listen to her! She’s playing up to him, Gran. She’s going to use him.’ She glared at Hannah, hands on hips.
‘Shut up! Just remember, girl, you’ve got a husband.’ Granny Popo poured castor oil into a dessert spoon. She gazed kindly into Hannah’s pinched, sallow face. ‘Get this down you, duck, and if it doesn’t do the trick, we’ll try something else.’
Hannah reached for the spoon but her hand was shaking so much Kenny held it for her. She baulked as she tasted the oil and nearly threw up but the old woman acted swiftly and held her mouth shut. ‘Swallow it down, girl.’ Hannah struggled, feeling as if she was choking but by a sheer effort of will, she swallowed the horrible stuff down.
Within ten minutes she was down the yard. She felt dreadful, as if her end had come and lost all track of time. She was convinced she would die there as the waves of pain kept coming. Her head throbbed and the cold was getting to her.
‘Hanny.’ It was Alice’s voice. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Don’t ask such a daft question!’ she gasped crossly. ‘Are you having to go home?’
‘Kenny’s refusing to go.’
Good old Kenny, thought Hannah, and she decided to be selfish, and not insist that they went and must not worry about her. They were her friends and she wanted them close. She knew that Dolly had guessed what was up with her and hoped she could keep her mouth shut. Hannah did not doubt Granny Popo would.
Alice leaned against the wall opposite the lavatory. ‘Is it something really bad that’s wrong with you, Hanny?’
Hannah did not answer. She did not want to voice her predicament. She wanted it to go away. Prayed it would go away.
‘I’ll take that for a yes,’ said Alice. ‘Is it why you don’t want to go home? Whose is it?’
Still Hannah remained silent.
Alice asked her again but when her friend still did not answer, she gave up and went back inside the house.
It was an age before Hannah felt confident she could leave the lavatory and not have to rush back there but what she hoped would happen had not happened and she could not face another dose of castor oil that night. Her head still throbbed and every muscle and bone seemed on fire.
Granny Popo waved her to a seat in front of the grate. Hannah held out her cold hands to the blaze. Dolly must have taken Tilly to bed because both were missing, as was Alice. Kenny had stood up as Hannah came in and now, at Granny Popo’s bidding, he made a pot of tea and poured a cup for Hannah, carrying it over to her. She sipped it gratefully.
‘Any luck, girl?’ said the old woman.
Hannah hugged her stomach and winced.
‘Well, if it hasn’t done the trick then you’re best telling your mother. But for now you go with Kenny. He’ll look after you. There’s talk doing the rounds about your dad and mother falling out; that your mother’s away at her cousin’s most weekends with the kids. Is it true?’
‘True, both true,’ said Hannah miserably. ‘I’m just hoping they’ll come to their senses.’ She drained her cup and stood up.
The pain was bad but she tried not to show it. Going over to Granny Popo, she pressed her cheek against that of the old woman and thanked her. Then, with Kenny carrying her pillowcase, she left the house.
As soon as they were outside Hannah linked her arm through Kenny’s and leaned against him. ‘I don’t know how far I’ll be able to walk,’ she gasped. ‘But I don’t expect you to carry me. Perhaps we could take a cab, I’ve got some cash.’ She patted the pocket where she had put her father’s money. ‘Although I’d rather hang on to it for emergencies.’
He touched her pale cheek with a gentle hand then indicated that she stay where she was and vanished. He returned five minutes later with a handcart. She stared at it in astonishment and then laughed weakly. ‘OK! I’m willing if you are.’
He held the handles while she climbed in, glad it was getting on towards dusk and prayed that no one she knew would see them.
By the time they reached the apartment, Hannah was doubled up with pain. Alice opened the door to them. She was looking worried but said nothing only helping Hannah over towards Kenny’s bed. He placed the pillowcase on the floor and went out again.
‘How did you get here?’ said Alice, helping Hannah to lie down and removing her shoes.
‘Handcart.’ She made a noise halfway between a giggle and a groan.
‘Whose?’
‘Don’t know.’
Alice sat on the side of the bed and chaffed Hannah’s hand, her face concerned. ‘Do you want to talk about it now?’
Hannah shook her head and pressed her lips together, forcing back a cry of pain.
‘OK,’ said Alice, frowning. ‘I won’t ask any questions, only what about your mam? She’s going to be worried if she doesn’t know where you are.’
‘Dah knows some of it. We don’t want her knowing. I asked him for money so he gave me all that he had. Remember me coming here in the early hours of New Year?’
Enlightenment dawned in Alice’s eyes. ‘You were in a right state! It happened then?’
Hannah was tempted to tell her the truth about the Bert Alice thought so wonderful, but she just could not bring herself to speak his name. ‘I was raped by a-a stranger by our back gate,’ she whispered. ‘But I couldn’t tell my mother or Dah. They’d had this terrible row. I never told you at the time but he’s been carrying on with that widow woman from next door to your old house. Mother found out and, every weekend, she leaves him to fend for himself and he goes to that woman.’
Alice sighed. ‘I had heard the rumours. You poor thing!’
‘I’ve been sick every morning for the last week.’ Tears rolled down Hannah’s cheeks. ‘I haven’t known what to do with myself. There was no one I could talk to in work or at home, so I decided to come and see you but you weren’t here, so I thought maybe you’d gone to see Sebastian.’ She winced as pain struck her again.
Alice shot to her feet, her small pretty face wore a scared expression. ‘Are you OK? Should I get help? Perhaps Miss Secombe can do something?’ She headed for the door.
Hannah shook her head. ‘I’ll be OK as long as you and Kenny stick by me. Besides…’ She squirmed, trying to get comfortable, ‘the pain I’m having… maybe it’s a good pain.’
‘You mean?’
‘Granny Popo’s castor oil might have worked!’