Arthur Mitson’s modest bakery had never been so busy. In the past two weeks, a steady stream of customers had poured through its doors, but despite the constant ringing of the till, it was glaringly obvious that the owners of the thriving business appeared far from happy.
Along with the regulars had come the gossip-mongers, their curiosity fuelled by the story in the Hackney Gazette about the little girl that had gone missing, presumed abducted by a pervert well known to the police. Yet although every one of the idle curious were genuinely concerned about the fate of the missing child, the true reason behind their constant visits to the bakery was in the hope of meeting Agnes Handly, the woman who, according to the papers, had been in cahoots with the man it was said had snatched the eight-year-old girl.
Even though the newspaper articles had stated that the former assistant at the Mitson bakery had gone to ground, it didn’t stop the thrill seekers from visiting the place where the evil Agnes Handly had once worked – and she must be evil to have done what she had. But their efforts to elicit information from the young woman serving behind the counter had come up against a blank wall. Yet they continued to come. Unable to learn the truth they’d had to be content with the rumours that were circulating the streets surrounding the bakery, and a very juicy piece of gossip it was. As with most rumours, no one was quite sure where the original story had started. Some said it was old Ma Wilson who had started the ball rolling.
Apparently, the elderly widow had been woken by a frantic knocking on her door late one night. At first, fearful of being murdered in her bed, the terrified woman had stayed huddled beneath her quilted eiderdown praying whoever it was would get tired and go away, but the banging had continued relentlessly. It was only when she heard her name being called that she had ventured trembling from her bed and cautiously peered out of her window to see Agnes Handly’s worried face staring back at her. Relieved to see the familiar face, the elderly woman had let the agitated Agnes into her house, asking what had led Agnes to her door at this hour of night. And the answer she had received was nothing short of sensational.
Playing down her role in the abduction of the Masters child – something Ma Wilson knew nothing about, for she rarely ventured out of doors, nor did she read the newspapers due to her failing eyesight – Agnes had described her terror at the mounting mob of outraged people baying for her blood, and how John Smith had taken her to Arthur Mitson’s home for her own safety-only for her to be terrorised by the very man the policeman had handed her over to for help.
‘…I’m telling yer, that’s what I heard.’ A plump woman was holding court outside the bakery, her face alight with excitement. ‘An’ that’s not all.’ The woman stopped for breath, making her moment of importance last as long as possible. Then, seeing she had the undivided attention of the group of women surrounding her she carried on, ‘It turns out old Arthur’s never done the business with young Ellen, yer know, in bed…!’
A woman in the small crowd gave a derisive laugh. ‘Is that all? Bleeding ’ell, Flo, I’d’ve been more surprised if he ’ad. I mean ter say, he’s a nice enough bloke, but he ain’t exactly the sort of man ter make a young girl go weak at the knees, or any other woman for that matter, now is he? Nah! I’ve always thought him and Ellen had what they call a marriage of convenience…’
‘Cor blimey! Hark at you, Gladys Brown. Marriage of convenience, my arse. You’ve been reading those fancy magazines again, ain’t yer?’ Another woman broke into the conversation. ‘Anyway, I don’t believe a word of it. I mean ter say, Arthur might be a boring old fart, but he’s still a man, ain’t he? Yer can’t tell me he’s been sharing a bed with a pretty girl like Ellen for how long is it? Two years, an’ kept ’is pecker tucked in ’is underclothes. Unless, of course, he can’t get it up anymore. An’ let’s face it, he can’t ’ave had much practice, poor old sod.’
The woman called Flo, seeing her audience slipping away from her, raised her voice, desperate not to have her moment of glory taken from her. ‘’Ang on, I ain’t got ter the best bit yet. Unless yer ain’t interested in what else I ’eard.’
The group of women fell silent, their curiosity getting the better of them. Satisfied she had their attention once more, Florrie Baxter hurried on.
‘Like I was saying, Arthur an’ Agnes were ’aving a row when he told ’er he’d never touched Ellen in that way, when who should walk in but young Ellen and Ted Parker. Well! Agnes told Ma Wilson all hell broke loose. First Arthur stormed out of the room, then Ted pulled Ellen into his arms like they was a couple of sweethearts, and told her that her marriage wasn’t legal… Well, not that exactly, but he was all excited, saying she could divorce Arthur on account of the marriage not being consummated; I think that’s the word he used. Anyway Ellen told him ter go and according ter Agnes’ version, Ted Parker told Ellen he loved her, but not ter keep him ’anging on too long, ’cos he wasn’t gonna wait fer ’er forever.’
Stopping for breath the delighted Florrie saw she had a captive audience and carried on quickly before someone else took it into their heads to steal her thunder.
‘So off he goes in a right old temper, but Agnes didn’t ’ave a chance ter talk ter Ellen ’cos she went straight ter bed. I gotta say, she’s a nice girl, is Ellen, ’cos even though she must ’ave been in a right state herself, she still thought of Agnes. Told her she could sleep downstairs fer the night. And let’s face it, she could’ve chucked her out, ’specially the way Agnes has treated Ellen since she married Arthur. Anyway, Agnes didn’t fancy sleeping in a chair downstairs, ’cos it’d turned chilly that night. So she stayed where she was, thinking she’d be able to slip away quietly in the morning, and Arthur and Ellen wouldn’t be any the wiser. She was just drifting off ter sleep when she heard raised voices, an’ yer know how nosy Agnes Handly is.’
She nodded to the spellbound group, not realising the hypocrisy of her words. As her eyes roamed over her audience she noticed a woman she’d never seen before. Unlike the others, this particular woman, although listening intently, didn’t appear to be as engrossed as the others. Mentally shrugging, Florrie Baxter finally got to the crux of her tale.
‘When she ’eard Arthur shouting, she didn’t take much notice at first, ’cos he’d been drinking, an’ yer know what men are like when they’ve had a few. But then she ’eard Ellen trying ter calm him down, then, according ter Agnes, Ellen started crying. Well, Agnes got worried, so she went over ter listen at the bedroom door, an’ you’ll never guess what she ’eard…’ She paused for effect, delighting in the rapt faces of the women crowding round her. ‘Only Arthur saying that it was time Ellen began ter act like a proper wife, and poor Ellen crying and begging Arthur to stop and that he was frightening her. The last thing Agnes ’eard was Ellen cry out, like she was in pain, then it all went quiet. Agnes was just wondering what ter do when she ’eard Arthur coming towards the door. According ter her, she was frightened Arthur might rape her too’ – a coarse laugh erupted from her thin lips – ‘Bleeding wishful thinking if yer ask me. So she grabbed ’er things an’ ran as if she ’ad a rocket up her arse. That’s how she ended up at Ma Wilson’s. She knew the old girl wouldn’t ’ave ’ard about that business with the little girl and that pervert she’d got herself tangled up with. When Ma Wilson woke up next morning, Agnes had gone without so much as a thank you or by yer leave. No one knows where she is now. If she’s any sense she’ll stay right away from the East End. People ’ave long memories round these parts. The only chance Agnes Handly ’as of coming back ’ome is if that poor little girl’s found safe and sound, please God! Though if Agnes’ story about Arthur forcing ’imself on Ellen is true, I hope fer ’is sake Ted don’t find out, ’cos if he does, there’ll be murder done.’
With no more news to impart the woman fell silent, her brief moment at the centre of attention over.
Slowly the women began to disperse, all except for the stranger who had been listening to the lurid story in silence.
Sadie remained where she was, then, anxious not to attract unwelcome attention, she began to pace up and down, giving the impression she was waiting for someone. Then, curiosity getting the better of her she stopped and looked into the shop window, only to give a nervous start as she saw the young woman, whom she surmised was the object of the conversation she had overheard, staring straight back at her. Flustered, Sadie quickly moved away. Her mind spinning she wondered what she should do for the best. Under the circumstances she didn’t think it a good idea to approach the baker’s wife at the moment. If what she had heard was true then the poor cow had enough on her plate to deal with. Knowing she was prevaricating, and hating herself for wasting valuable time she made a decision. Glancing to her right she saw the woman who had been holding court and made her way towards her.
Florrie Baxter was only too eager to have a sympathetic ear, and, after having to listen to the same story again, Sadie finally managed to get a word in, getting to the real purpose for striking up a conversation with the garrulous woman. Fifteen minutes later she was on a tram heading for Roman Road market where she had been reliably informed Ted Parker ran his stall. For reasons of her own she hadn’t asked about Micky Masters, telling herself it was best if she didn’t let anyone know she was looking for the boy. But no matter which excuse she tried to assuage her guilt, deep down she knew she was still hoping the boy would be long gone, and then she would be able to keep Molly with her without raising anyone’s suspicions as to why she was trying to locate the boy. It would also stop any awkward questions being asked.
But whatever the outcome, she must put her own feelings aside and do what was best for Molly.
When she alighted from the tram, she slowly made her way down the long lines of stalls, her feet dragging, a sick sensation in her stomach. It would have been quicker to ask the first stallholder where to locate Ted Parker, but she was in no hurry to find him. The longer it took her to find him, and ask about Micky Masters, the longer she could hold onto her dream of keeping Molly, of having a daughter to share her lonely life with.
‘I bet they’re having a field day out there, nosy cows. Still, I’m not complaining, we’ve never been so busy.’
Arthur, coming to relieve Ellen so she could have her lunch, attempted a jocular tone, but the icy look on his wife’s face chilled him to the bone. The morning rush was over so it was safe for them to talk, until the next customer arrived.
His fleshy face reddening he said pleadingly, ‘Please, Ellen, love. I’ve apologised over and over again. I was mad with rage at seeing you with Ted Parker, and hearing what he said about you being able to leave me and go with him. I was almost out of my head with worry that I was going to lose you, but I swear to God, I never meant to hurt you. You must know I’m speaking the truth. God Almighty, we’ve been married and sharing a bed for over two years, and I’ve never laid a finger on you. Now be fair, there’s not many men would have done that. I’d cut off me right arm if I could turn back the clock, but I can’t. What’s done is done. But I swear to you, it’ll never happen again. Ellen… Ellen! Please, love, say something. It’s killing me having you look right through me as if I wasn’t there. What more can I do for you to forgive me? Just say the word and I’ll do whatever you ask.’
Taking off her apron, Ellen came out from behind the counter. Without looking at him she said in a cold, flat voice, ‘It’s not your right arm I’d like to cut off, Arthur. And no matter what excuse you use to try to justify what you did, the truth is you raped me. I know a husband can’t be charged with raping his wife, the law doesn’t recognise a woman’s rights in that matter once she’s married, more’s the pity. You say you’re sorry and it’ll never happen again, and that much is true.’ She turned to face him, and Arthur flinched at the dead look in those once sparkling eyes. ‘Because I’ll tell you now, Arthur, if you ever attempt such an act again, I swear I’ll pack up and move out without a backward glance, and you’ll never see me again.’
Arthur stared after the retreating figure, his entire body filled with an emotion he couldn’t put a name to. The Ellen he had married was gone forever. It was as if she had died. He felt what he could only term as a kind of bereavement. As the bell over the door tinkled, a wild thought entered his mind. Please God, let that one, never-to-be-repeated act result in a pregnancy. Only then would he be able to put his tortured mind at ease. For two long, agonising weeks he had been expecting Ellen to pack her bags and leave – and it wouldn’t have taken a genius to work out where she would go.
But if she were to have a baby, then surely she would stay with him, if only for the sake of the child.
Putting his best smile on he asked the waiting customer, ‘Yes, love, and what can I get you today?’
It was one o’clock and Sadie was sitting in the pie and mash shop drinking her third mug of tea. She was aware of the curious glances in her direction, not surprising since she’d been sitting in the same booth for the past two hours. Ignoring the other occupants of the café she sipped her tea, her eyes staring unseeingly out of the window. She’d had no trouble in locating Ted Parker. The first stallholder she had spoken to had pointed him out to her. Her heart beating like a drum, she had slowly approached the stall, her eyes darting back and forth in search of a glimpse of the young boy she had set out to find, but the tall, dark-haired man appeared to be working the stall alone. At any other time, Sadie would have appreciated the rugged good looks of Ted Parker, but not today. Today, the only thing on her mind was trying to find a way to keep the child she had grown to love.
But instead of enquiring of the boy’s whereabouts she heard herself asking for a pound of apples and half a dozen oranges; Molly needed the good nourishing food she had long been denied. Oblivious of Ted’s good-natured banter, Sadie paid for her purchases and, needing more time to get her thoughts in order, decided to treat herself to her favourite meal of pie and mash. She had just finished her third mug of tea when a man slid into the booth, sitting himself down comfortably on the bench opposite her. Raising her eyes she saw the dark-haired market trader staring at her with marked curiosity.
Without preamble he said, ‘I hear yer’ve been asking about me. D’yer mind telling me why?’
Knowing men as she did, Sadie knew that, despite the man’s good-natured tone, he wasn’t the type to be fobbed off easily. With the ease of a man comfortable in himself he beckoned over the waitress and ordered a meal, a mug of strong tea, and another one for Sadie. By the way the waitress hovered coyly over him it was obvious that not only was he well known in the café, but that he was also very much a ladies’ man. Ten, fifteen years ago, she would likely have felt the same attraction, but with the life she’d led, men no longer had the power to excite her.
‘Well. You gonna tell me why you’ve been looking fer me, or do I have ter tie you down and beat the truth outta you?’ Ted grinned amiably. ‘Oh, thanks, darlin’,’ he said as the piping hot dinner was laid before him. The waitress darted a quizzical look at Sadie, then squealed with pleasure as Ted slapped her smartly on the backside. Giving her a broad wink he said laughingly, ‘Bring us over another tea in five minutes, there’s a good girl.’
Her cheeks turning a bright pink the waitress hurried to her next customer.
Tucking into his meal Ted said lightly, ‘I’m still waiting, love. You must ’ave a good reason fer wanting to meet me, and seeing as I’m a curious bloke, I’d like ter know why, and you ain’t leaving till you tell me.’
Behind the friendly tone, Sadie knew the man was deadly serious. Not knowing where to start, she swallowed nervously, then, deciding the best course of action was just to blurt out the truth, she said quietly, ‘I’ve been looking fer a boy called Micky Masters and I was told he works fer you. I’ve got his sister Molly staying with me.’ Even though she had been expecting some sort of reaction she wasn’t prepared for the electrifying effect her words had on the market trader.
His dinner forgotten, Ted leant forward, his flippant manner replaced by one of desperate urgency. ‘Listen, love, I don’t know who you are, or if you’re telling the truth. There’s a lot of people who’ll be grateful ter you forever, including me. But if you’re pissing me about, then you’ve got a bleeding sick sense of humour.’
Immediately on the defensive Sadie shot back angrily, ‘Don’t you talk ter me like that. What d’yer take me for? I found Molly hiding in a filthy ruin, and I took her home with me. All she talked about that night was her wonderful brother Micky, an’ I thought I’d look after her fer the night then set about finding ’er brother the next day. Only it didn’t work out like that, ’cos the following morning I couldn’t get a word out of her. And believe me I tried. I mean, I didn’t mind having ’er stay the night, but I certainly didn’t bargain on ’aving ’er still with me a fortnight later. Apart from knowing ’er brother’s name, and that he did some odd jobs for a nice lady in a bakery before getting a job with a man called Ted Parker who ran a fruit and veg stall. But she didn’t say where the bakery or market was for that matter. And like I said, the morning after I couldn’t get anything else outta ’er. I didn’t ’ave anything else ter go on. It ain’t easy trying ter find someone when yer ain’t got a clue where ter look. I reckon the only reason she clammed up was because she was frightened something bad had happened ter her brother. In her little mind she was probably scared of being sent back ter the workhouse an’ hoped that if she kept quiet and behaved herself I’d take ’er in and look after her.’
Impatiently pushing away his plate Ted said scathingly, ‘Don’t give me that. Bleeding hell, the story was splashed all over the front page of the Hackney Gazette for the first three days after Molly went missing. She’s not headline news anymore but the paper’s still asking fer anyone who’s got any information ter come forward. They’ve even offered a reward…’ Ted’s eyes suddenly narrowed. ‘Is that what this is all about? ’Cos if it is then you’re outta luck. You ain’t the first one that’s tried to collect the reward…’
He wasn’t given the chance to finish his sentence, for Sadie, emotionally drained, her anger reaching boiling point, spat out bitterly, ‘You bastard! I ain’t interested in the money. I didn’t even know there was a reward… Oh, yeah, yer can look at me like that, yer smug git, but it’s the truth. And the reason I didn’t know about it is because I don’t buy the newspapers; there wouldn’t be much point seeing as I can’t read.’ Her breathing rapid, Sadie carried on. ‘If yer must know, I was hoping I wouldn’t be able ter find Molly’s brother. I know I said I was annoyed at first at being lumbered with her, but the truth is, I’ve grown ter love her. I thought, given time, she’d forget her brother, ’cos apart from that first night she hardly ever mentioned him. And like I said, I was ’oping, in time, she’d grow ter love and be happy with me. But last night, as I was tucking ’er into bed, she suddenly started crying for her brother. And once she’d started it all came tumbling out. The name of the bakery where he used ter do odd jobs, and she told me your name, but she couldn’t remember the market where you worked; though once I knew your name it wasn’t hard ter find you.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper as she tiredly pushed back a strand of hair from her face.
‘So there it is. First thing this morning I left Molly with a friend and came looking. I went ter the bakery first, then I lost me nerve and asked someone if she knew of a Ted Parker.’ She bravely gave a watery smile. ‘Seems you’re well known, because the woman I asked knew exactly who you was and where I could find you…’ She raised her shoulders, ‘So ’ere I am, and before the day’s out Molly’ll be with her brother and everyone will be ’appy… except me.’ Her voice began to tremble as the strain of keeping up a normal appearance finally got the better of her. Her eyes suspiciously bright, a sob caught in her throat as she said, ‘It’ll break me ’eart to let ’er go, but I’ve gotta think of Molly, and ’er brother… Oh, shit! Let’s get outta ’ere, please, before I make a complete mug of meself.’
Throwing down some coins on the marble table Ted took Sadie’s arm and led her from the café. Once out in the fresh air Sadie began to regain control of her emotions.
‘So then, where is this Micky? I thought he was working fer you.’
‘He is. Sometimes he puts in a full day’s work, then there’s times like today when he can’t settle, and off he goes to search the streets for his sister. He often doesn’t come ’ome till gone midnight, almost dead on his feet. He used ter be such a happy kid, but he ain’t smiled since Molly went missing.’ Ted paused before asking, ‘Did Molly say anything about a man called Kenneth Wells?’
Sadie shook her head. ‘No, I don’t remember her mentioning anyone of that name. Though she did say something about a nasty man she was afraid of. Is that the man?’
Ted nodded grimly. ‘Yeah, that’s the perverted bastard. It’s also why Micky’s been almost outta his ’ead with fear that Wells had got hold of her. Look, give me ten minutes ter find someone ter take care of me stall, and then I’ll take yer ’ome with me ter wait fer Micky. It’ll give me the chance ter fill yer in with the rest of the story.’ He hadn’t walked more than a few steps when he turned and asked, ‘I know it’s none of me business, but what was yer doing in that derelict house at that time of the evening?’
For the first time in her life Sadie was suddenly ashamed of her profession. Then, lifting her chin proudly she replied, ‘You’re right, it ain’t none of your business. But if yer must know I was entertaining a client. To put it more bluntly, I’m a brass; there, satisfied now, are yer?’
Ted walked back towards her, a smile on his face. Then to her surprise he lifted her off her feet and planted a kiss on her cheek.
‘From where I’m standing, darling, you’re 18-carat pure gold.’
Then he was striding off, whistling happily, leaving Sadie feeling she had suddenly become someone special, and that feeling caused her chest to swell with emotion and pride. Her step lighter she began to browse among the stalls until Ted returned for her.