‘Oxford Street next stop,’ the conductor’s sonorous voice boomed above the chatter of the passengers on his horse-bus. Maggie jumped to her feet, almost forgetting Liz, who appeared to be stuck in the long seat.
‘Come on, Liz, hurry up, it’ll be moving off again in a minute,’ Maggie cried agitatedly.
‘Hang on, will you, I’m not as quick on me feet as I used to be.’
Holding Lizzie’s elbow, Maggie assisted her heavily pregnant sister down the curving stairway, not breathing easily until they were safely on the platform.
‘Yer shouldn’t ’ave gorn upstairs, Missus, not in your condition,’ the cheerful conductor admonished them both.
‘We wanted to see the view from the top – we’ve never been up this way before,’ Maggie replied by way of explanation.
‘Yes, well, sit downstairs on yer way back ’ome. Yer don’t want the little ’un being born on a bus now, do yer?’
They had barely set foot on the pavement when the vehicle started up again.
‘Bloody ’ell, they don’t hang about, do they?’ Liz grabbed at Maggie’s arm to steady herself. ‘We could have walked quicker, the time it’s taken us to get here.’
Maggie nodded in agreement. The roads were packed solid with horse-buses, hansom cabs, private carriages and delivery vans. She had thought the roads in the East End were congested, but they were nothing compared to this.
‘Oh, blast,’ Lizzie cried in disgust.
‘What’s the matter?’ Maggie turned to the cumbersome figure by her side, her voice filled with alarm.
Leaning heavily on Maggie’s arm, Liz lifted her foot, her eyes glaring at the brown mess on the bottom of her boot.
‘Whoever said the streets of London were paved with gold obviously never came up this way,’ she said grinning up at her sister.
Minutes later they were standing in front of a large department store, their noses practically touching the enormous plate-glass window, their eyes wide at the sight of the colourful collection of gowns and costumes on display. At the front of the window stood a wooden mannequin clothed in a brilliant, sky-blue gown. Lying on the floor close to the frilled hem was a wide-brimmed straw hat trimmed with silk flowers and a wide ribbon in the same matching colour. Alongside was another mannequin draped in a white tulle dress with a scarlet band round the waist. Again a matching hat lay at its feet, together with a white lace pair of gloves. The rest of the window was filled with smart skirts and blouses with gaily printed scarves pinned to the wooden display board.
‘Makes our stall look sick, doesn’t it,’ Liz said wistfully, before moving on to the next store. The next two hours were spent leisurely wandering up and down the narrow road, stopping every now and then to look into yet another bright and colourful window display. Finally they found a smaller shop that catered for babies and children’s wear. After much debating, they emerged carrying three wrapped parcels.
‘I don’t know about you, Maggie, but I could do with a cup of tea and something to eat,’ Liz said longingly.
‘Me an’ all, but we can’t go into a restaurant, we’ve spent enough already. Not that I begrudge the baby its new things,’ she added hastily, ‘after all it’s your money, but I bet some of those places cost a guinea just to walk through the door. Besides, I’d feel awkward going into a posh restaurant. They’re probably filled with lords and ladies – we’d be out of place.’
Lizzie was about to make a reference to Harry, then changed her mind; she didn’t want to take the risk of spoiling their day out. Linking arms they set off in search of a modest place where they could eat in comfort. Walking slowly they mingled with the gentlemen and ladies of the upper class, their heads held high, refusing to be intimidated by their fellow pedestrians.
‘Here, look at them.’ Lizzie nudged Maggie in the side, her head nodding towards a group of city gentlemen dressed in pin-striped trousers, black morning coats and bowler hats. ‘Look like a load of penguins, don’t they?’
Giggling like two school girls, they turned off the main street and found themselves in a cul-de-sac. There were only four small shops set back into the right hand of the road, and it was with enormous relief they saw that one of them was a coffee shop. Clutching their purchases tightly, they peered at the gold-printed menu attached to the frosted-glass window.
‘Bloody hell,’ Liz exclaimed loudly. ‘Half a crown for a pot of tea and a couple of scones, that’s daylight robbery. We went into the wrong business, Maggie.’
‘Keep your voice down, Liz,’ Maggie pleaded. ‘They’ll hear you inside. Anyway, it was your idea to come up the West End – what did you expect?’
The tinkling of a bell announced the departure of a young couple leaving the shop, and Maggie, looking at her sister, said excitedly, ‘Come on, Liz, let’s splash out. It might be a very long time before we get another chance.’
Liz gazed into the sparkling eyes and grinned. ‘Oh, what the hell, why not. After you, Madam,’ she said, sweeping her hand in a grand fashion.
Once inside the shop, however, they found their confidence wavering at the sight of the throng of smartly dressed people seated around the white lace-covered tables. Swallowing nervously Maggie shot a startled look at Liz who immediately inclined her head indicating that they should leave. But before they could make their exit, a tall, elderly man dressed in the same mode as a butler was standing at their side.
‘Good afternoon, ladies,’ he smiled pleasantly. ‘Will you be requiring a table for two?’
The friendliness of his tone acted as a balm upon the two young women, and it was Liz, who recovering her composure first, said grandly, ‘Thank you, that would be most agreeable.’
When they were seated and their parcels pushed safely out of the way beneath the table, Liz scanned the menu before grandly ordering a pot of coffee and two large slices of chocolate gateau. When the waiter had gone the two young women gazed at each other for a moment, then burst into muffled laughter.
‘Gawd, if my Jimmy could see me now, he’d have a blue fit. Speaking of which, I hope he’s behaving himself. I wouldn’t put it past him to slope off and leave Charlie to do all the work.’
Maggie shook her head in wonderment. ‘I can’t get over the change in you, Liz, but I’m glad to see it. I’ve been worried sick at the thought of leaving you, but not any more. In fact I think you’ll probably be better off without me there antagonising Jimmy at every given opportunity. I…’ She broke off as the waiter, carrying a large silver platter returned to their table. Any further conversation was halted while they did justice to the special treat that lay before them. Finally, they pushed their empty plates away and surveyed each other, smiling fondly.
‘I’ve really enjoyed myself today, Maggie,’ Liz said softly. ‘But more importantly, I’m glad that we’ve become friends. Mind you, it’s taken long enough, hasn’t it?’
‘Liz,’ Maggie started to speak.
‘No, don’t say anything, Maggie,’ Liz interrupted her. ‘I’m not going to get all mushy, I just thought I’d take this opportunity to thank you for all the help and support you’ve given me these past months, and to apologise for being such a bitch at times. Not that you’re that easy to live with,’ she laughed happily. Then her mood changing to a more sombre note, she continued.
‘The change you’ve seen in me today isn’t that sudden, it’s been building for a long time. I don’t know why I picked this particular day to speak out, it just happened. We all have to grow up and become independent sometime, and I suppose I realised I couldn’t spend the rest of my life leaning on you. That and the need to feel some self-respect, because it’s important isn’t it, self-respect? You’ve always had it, even as a child. I don’t know what I was more jealous of, that, or the fact that you were prettier than me.’
Leaning over the table she caught hold of Maggie’s hand. ‘You don’t have to worry about me, Maggie, and I’m not going to hold you to the promise to stay until the baby’s born. You see, I’m not afraid any more – I’ll always love you, but I don’t need you any more. Do you understand?’
A well of emotion was swelling in Maggie’s chest, and desperate to bring some levity back to the conversation, she said shakily, ‘Give over, Liz. You’ll have us both bawling in a minute, and I don’t think that would go down too well in a place like this. One must keep up appearances, mustn’t one?’ Again they were laughing, unheedful of the covert glances they were attracting.
‘Look, Maggie, I want to get a bit more shopping before we go home. You wait here and have another cup of coffee, I won’t be long.’
A startled look came into Maggie’s eyes. ‘Hang on, Liz. I’m not staying here on my own, I’ll come with you.’
‘I won’t be a minute, I know exactly what I want to get. Here, I’ll leave the money for the bill. By the time that waiter comes back and you’ve paid him, I’ll be waiting outside. Won’t be long.’
For a woman so heavily pregnant Liz was surprisingly quick on her feet, and before Maggie could make any further protest she had left the shop. Knowing there was nothing for it but to remain until the waiter returned, she sat uncomfortably in her chair, her face burning with embarrassment, wondering where Liz had rushed off to in such a hurry.
‘Would you like it wrapped, Madam,’ the saleswoman enquired, her nimble fingers folding over the fawn cashmere shawl on the counter. Liz thought for a moment. She was desperate to go to the toilet, and Maggie would be hopping mad if she left her on her own for too long. The pressure on her bladder decided her.
‘No, thank you,’ she replied, moving from one foot to another. ‘Just put it in a bag and I’ll wrap it myself.’
‘Very good, Madam,’ the woman replied. She could see the young woman’s condition, and having had four children of her own sympathised with her evident predicament.
Lowering her voice she said sotto voce, ‘If Madam would care to use our facilities, I could wrap the shawl while I wait.’
‘What? Oh yes, thank you,’ Liz replied gratefully. It would mean an extra few minutes, but she was sure Maggie would understand. Five minutes later she emerged from the shop, the gaily wrapped parcel firmly tucked under her arm. She hoped Maggie would like the shawl. It had cost her ten shillings, but she didn’t begrudge a penny of it.
When Maggie had first offered to hand over the business to her, she had been dumbstruck by the generosity behind the thought, especially as she’d refused to take a penny in compensation. When she thought back over the years, and the hard time she’d given Maggie lately about paying back the money that had saved them from the workhouse, she’d been overcome with regret and shame. The knowledge of what Maggie had had to endure to obtain the money was pushed firmly to the back of her mind. She knew she could never fully repay Maggie for all she had done, the shawl was merely a token of her love and gratitude. Lord, she’d been gone longer than she’d bargained for. If she didn’t hurry, they’d end up having a row and that was something she didn’t want; she never wanted to argue with Maggie ever again. Some hope, she thought wryly as she quickened her step.
The coachman sitting atop the carriage smiled benignly as Liz hurried past. His wife was expecting their first child any day now, and the sight of the attractive young woman obviously pregnant reminded him once again that he was soon to become a father. His attention was drawn from the retreating figure by the arrival of his master who had emerged from the tobacconist shop. Jumping down from his perch he stood to attention while at the same time opening the carriage door.
For years to come he would never forget that day, or know why the horses had suddenly bolted. All he could remember was the door being jerked from his hand as the frightened animals had taken flight and mounted the pavement heading straight for the figure that had just passed him. Her mind preoccupied with getting back to the coffee shop Liz didn’t realise the danger until it was too late. Everything happened so quickly. Suddenly people were screaming as they ran to get out of the horses’ path, while the onlookers on the other side of the road stood rooted to the spot, unable to do anything except stare in horror as the two horses continued on their mad rampage along the pavement. In the mad scramble for safety, Liz was thrown against the wall, her eyes widening in terror as the frightened beasts bore down on her. Dropping the parcel she wrapped her arms around her bulging stomach, her lips moving silently in a desperate prayer.
‘Please God, please, not my baby. Oh, God, no, not like this…’ The horses and carriage smashed into the defenceless body, tossing it aside as effortlessly as a match, killing both Liz and her unborn child instantly, before careering on down the now deserted pavement. Liz lay sprawled on the ground, her eyes still wide, her mouth open, as if even in death she was protesting at the fate that had befallen her.
Maggie had just paid the hovering waiter and was wondering if the shilling she had left for a tip was enough. Shrugging her shoulders she was about to rise and go in search of Liz when the sounds of screams and the metallic ring of horses’ hooves filled the crowded shop. Everyone seemed frozen for a split second, then chairs were pushed back as people rushed to the window to see what had happened. Only Maggie remained where she was. Her mouth had turned dry and she could feel her heart hammering against her ribs. Don’t be stupid, she told herself calmly. Any minute now, Liz is going to walk through that door all agog and busting with information about the accident that had just happened.
‘Oh, my God, there’s a girl lying on the pavement, look at the blood. Somebody run for a doctor, she may be dying,’ a stout, aristocratic lady was shouting to nobody in particular, while Maggie stood rigid, afraid to move, afraid to go out into the street for fear of what she might see. Oh, Liz, where are you? Hurry up, please. I don’t care about you leaving me here on my own, even if I did feel angry at first. Just walk through that door, please.
‘Are you all right, Madam? Can I be of any assistance?’ the waiter stood by the table, his faced filled with concern.
Forcing a trembling smile to her stiff lips, she answered evenly, ‘No, thank you, I’m fine. It’s just my sister, you know the girl I was with. She hasn’t come back yet, and I’m a bit worried. I’m sure she’ll turn up any minute now.’
As the man made to leave her self-control broke, and grabbing his arm she said shakily, ‘Look, I know you’ll think I’m being silly, but would… would you go outside and see… see if…’
Patting her arm reassuringly the man said kindly, ‘Of course, Madam. Now you wait there. I’m sure as you say your sister will be returning any minute.’
She didn’t know how long she waited, and then he was back by her side. Fearfully she glanced up then felt her body jerk painfully at the look of compassion on his lined face. He stood awkwardly, not knowing how to break the news to this pretty young woman who only a short time ago had sat laughing with the other young girl who now lay in a broken heap on the cold ground.
‘Oh, no, no, no. Liz’, she whispered. Then as the truth hit her, her voice rose hysterically. ‘Liz, Lizzie,’ and then she was pushing her way through the crowd of curious onlookers, knocking aside two elderly women in her haste to get outside. On the other side of the road, a group of people were gathered, while a lone policeman tried to keep some order. Her footsteps faltering, she staggered into the road and joined the milling crowd. Through the legs of the men grouped at the edge of the pavement she saw the blue coat, the sight of which drove her into a frenzy. With a strength she didn’t know she possessed, she cut a path through the crowd, not caring who she hurt in the process. And there she was, her Liz, lying as still as death, the front of her coat covered in blood, her eyes gazing sightlessly into space.
Dropping to her knees she gently lifted the blonde head and placed it in her lap, murmuring, ‘It’s all right, love, I’m here. You’ll be all right now.’
The policeman moved forward, his face grave. ‘Do you know this woman, miss?’ he enquired, then cursed himself for asking such a stupid question. Still, it was his job and questions had to be asked. But Maggie was oblivious to all around her, as she continued talking to Liz, her hand tenderly stroking the ashen face.
‘Do you remember when you had pneumonia, Liz? We all thought you were going to die then, remember. But I got you through it, didn’t I? So it doesn’t make sense that you should die now, not after all my hard work.’
‘Miss, I’m sorry, but I have to ask you your relationship to this woman.’ The policeman was kneeling by her side wondering where the hell the ambulance van was. Maggie looked up at him, her eyes glazed over, her mind refusing to believe what had happened.
‘Of course I know her, she’s my sister. Could you help me to get her home, please. I can look after her once I get her home.’
The policeman dropped his head. He’d seen it so many times, people refusing to accept that their loved ones were dead, retreating into a shell-like state until reality hit them.
Gnawing on his bottom lip he took a deep breath before saying as gently as he could, ‘I’m sorry, miss, your sister’s dead. There’s nothing you can do for her any more. I’ve sent for an ambulance, it should be here soon. Is there anyone I can send for? Your mother perhaps, or a neighbour? What about your brother-in-law? He’ll have to be informed.’
The words echoed round Maggie’s head then seemed to bounce off again. It was all right, she told herself. Don’t listen to him and it’ll be all right. But she could do with some help. Not Jimmy, she didn’t want him here, and Mrs Casey had moved to somewhere down south over a year ago. Well, she’d have to manage on her own, and there was always Mrs Simms, she’d help.
She didn’t hear the ambulance arriving, it was only when two men dressed in short white coats tried to prise Liz from her grasp that she was galvanised into action.
Tightening her hold on the warm body she said gratefully, ‘Thank goodness you’re here. She’ll be all right, but maybe it’s best if you take her to the hospital. She’s going to have a baby and…’
The elder of the two men took hold of Liz’s upper body, while the other man held her feet.
‘Careful!’ Maggie cried out. ‘I told you she’s expecting…’
The younger man was tired. He’d been on duty for over 16 hours and the long work load had taken its toll.
Taking a firmer hold on the woman’s feet he said brusquely, ‘She ain’t gonna feel anything, she’s dead. If you wanna come with us to the hospital, you’d better get a move on, we ain’t got all day.’
The policeman started forward, his face a mask of anger at the cruelty of the man’s words. But before he could reprimand him, another man had moved forward from the crowd, a bundle of parcels held carefully under his arm.
Going straight to Maggie’s side he said kindly, ‘You left these in the restaurant, Madam.’ The stunned look on the girl’s face was too much for him, and with a muttered, ‘I’m so sorry,’ he walked unsteadily away from her anguished gaze. Still in a daze Maggie stared down at the parcels she and Liz had spent the morning buying. Then out of the corner of her eye she spotted the gaily wrapped parcel lying at her feet. Bending down she picked it up. So this was what Liz had gone in such a hurry for. The wrapping had split open revealing the fawn cashmere shawl. On the top lay a small card. Her eyes blurred with tears as she tried to make out the writing. Blinking furiously she held it nearer to her face and read the gold lettering. It said simply, ‘For Maggie, something new, Love Liz’.
‘Are you coming, or not?’ the ambulance attendant shouted. Startled, Maggie dropped the card. Stooping to pick it up she noticed for the first time the blood on her hands. Something seemed to burst inside her head, and then she was screaming, her wild anguished cries searing the minds of the people standing watching the spectacle. One by one they began to disperse, unable to witness the girl’s agony, but even when they’d left the street the screams seemed to follow them. They quickened their steps, eager to get away from the pain and anguish that might one day be theirs.
The last of the mourners had gone, leaving Maggie and Charlie alone. Ethel Simms had been the last to leave. Her eyes red from crying, she had begged Maggie to keep in touch, then, with Jimmy holding her arm, she had gone. That had been over three hours ago and Jimmy had yet to return. Maggie hoped he would spend the night with his mother, she didn’t want any company tonight, certainly not his. Their bags were packed, and they would be leaving first thing in the morning. They would have to stay in lodgings for the time being until she found somewhere permanent for her and Charlie. The sound of weeping brought her eyes round to where Charlie sat hunched over by the dying fire, his thin shoulders shaking with sobs. She envied him his tears, for she had been unable to show any emotion since the day after the accident.
Touching him gently on the shoulder she whispered, ‘Best get to bed, love. We’ve a long day tomorrow and I want to make an early start.’
Getting to his feet Charlie walked over to the bed. Sitting down on the worn mattress he looked up at Maggie and his voice breaking, he asked, ‘Why don’t people ever know they loved someone ’til it’s too late?’ Maggie could only shake her head in pity.
‘I don’t know, love. But don’t torment yourself, Liz knew you loved her, you don’t always have to say it, sometimes people just know.’
‘But I should have told her and now I’ll never have the chance.’
‘Go to sleep, Charlie,’ Maggie said wearily. ‘There’s nothing you can do about it now.’
Maggie knew that she should try and comfort him, but the effort was too much. Leaving Charlie sitting on the mattress, she sat down by the fire, trying to get some warmth from the dying embers. Her head dropped onto her chest, the trauma of the last few days catching up on her as she slipped into a fitful sleep. She was awoken by a hand on her shoulder, and jumped nervously, then relaxed slightly when she saw who it was.
‘God, you gave me a fright, Jimmy. I thought we had burglars. I didn’t expect you back tonight, I thought you’d stay with your Mum – she was very upset.’
As she went to rise, Jimmy pushed her back into the chair, and it was with alarm she realised he’d been drinking, heavily too by the look of him.
Careful to keep her voice steady she said, ‘I was just going to make some cocoa, would you like some?’ She shrank back in fear as he leaned over her, his beer fumed breath fanning her face.
‘It isn’t cocoa I want, Maggie. It’s comforting I need, and plenty of it.’
‘Now come on, Jimmy, you’re drunk, why don’t you go to bed?’ she said, the break in her voice betraying her growing fear.
‘That’s a good idea, Maggie, a very good idea. We’ll go to bed and comfort each other. You know how to comfort a man, don’t you, Maggie? Course I can’t afford no three guineas, let alone £20, but seeing as I’m family you can do it for free.’
Maggie felt her mouth drop in surprise. He couldn’t know about that, not unless… Oh Liz, how could you, how could you tell him?
Yet even knowing the horrible truth she had to ask, ‘How did you find out? Nobody knew except me and Liz, and she wouldn’t tell you.’
Letting out a loud laugh he threw his head back gleefully, ‘’’Course she told me. Wives don’t ’ave no secrets from their ’usbands. Now don’t give me no trouble, I’ve waited a long time fer this, and we don’t want to wake Charlie up, do we?’
Jimmy leaned closer to her, his lips curved into a leer, a leer that changed to one of pain and surprise as Maggie’s knee jerked up catching him squarely in the groin. With a howl of rage he grabbed her from the chair throwing her roughly to the floor. The fall knocked the wind from her body for a few seconds, and then she was fighting him. Fighting him with every ounce of her strength. Not again, she vowed, I’ve been raped once, never again, if I have to die to prevent it. Despite her efforts she was no match for the burly man, and once again she felt her skirts being lifted over her head and a hand pulling at her underclothes. His thick wet lips were clamped to hers making it impossible for her to shout out. She felt tears of rage and despair spurt from her eyes as his other hand fastened on her exposed breast.
Shutting her eyes tight she waited for the inevitable to happen. At the crucial moment the body lying on hers went limp. At first she thought he had passed out from the drink, then looking over her shoulder she saw Charlie’s frightened face in the glow of the table lamp and the poker he held in his shaking hand.
Her mind suddenly clear Maggie said sharply, ‘Don’t just stand there, help me get him off,’
The poker fell from Charlie’s hand as he rushed to help his sister. The task wasn’t easy; Jimmy was a big man, and being unconscious made him a dead weight. After much pushing and pulling they finally managed to get him onto his back.
‘Is he dead, Maggie?’ Charlie whispered fearfully. Maggie stared down at the supine figure, her eyes filled with loathing.
‘I don’t know, and what’s more I don’t care.’
‘But, Maggie, if he’s dead, I’ll have to go to prison – they might even hang me!’ Charlie’s voice rose as he considered the consequences of what he had done.
Chewing her bottom lip, Maggie reflected on Charlie’s words. What if he had killed him? Even given the circumstances, the courts would take a dim view of murder no matter what the provocation. Steeling herself for the worst she bent over and placed a shaking hand on the wide chest, then heaved a sigh of relief when she felt the strong beating of his heart beneath her hand.
‘It’s all right, he isn’t dead,’ she told the frightened boy. Wiping the hand she’d touched Jimmy with down the side of her skirt she thought for a moment. He was all right now, but what if they left him unattended and he died as a result. Some one would have to see to him; but who?
Whirling round she grabbed Charlie by the arm and said urgently, ‘Quick, go and fetch Mrs Simms. She can sit with him until he comes round, just in case. As soon as she gets here, we’re off.’
‘But Maggie,’ Charlie cried bewilderedly, ‘She’s his Mum – what am I going to tell her?’
‘Don’t worry about that, love,’ she answered grimly. ‘Just tell her I need her. I’ll deal with the rest when she gets here. Now hurry, we haven’t much time.’
As soon as the door had banged behind him, Maggie went straight to the scullery and removing the loose brick took her savings from the wall. Next she pulled up the rug and prised up the floorboard where they kept the takings from the stall. Lifting the tin box from its hiding place she opened it, her face falling at the sight of the empty box.
Damn it, she should have known he’d take the money the first opportunity he had. Sitting back on her heels she wondered if she had the courage to go through his trouser pockets, he couldn’t have spent it all, not in such a short space of time. She didn’t need the money, but she’d be damned if he was going to keep it. Taking a deep breath and praying he wouldn’t come round yet, she gingerly felt in his pockets. Nothing. Her heart sinking, she was about to give up when out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of his jacket hanging over the arm of the chair. Getting to her feet, she felt around in the inside pocket, her mouth curving into a smile of triumph as her hand closed round a wad of notes. Hearing the arrival of Charlie and Mrs Simms, she hastily put the money with her own, stuffing it down the front of her blouse.
‘What’s up, Maggie? What’s happened now?’ Ethel Simms was the first to enter the room, her chest heaving with exertion, her face filled with worry. Then she stopped in her tracks as her eyes focused on the still figure on the floor.
‘My God, Maggie, what happened to ’im. Is ’e drunk? Charlie said it was urgent, I thought for a minute…’
There was no easy way to say what she had to say. As much as she didn’t want to hurt this kindly woman who had been her friend for many years, the words had to be spoken.
‘He tried to rape me, and Charlie knocked him out with a poker,’ she answered as evenly as she could, then averted her eyes as she saw the look of pain and sorrow contort the woman’s face. Sinking heavily into the armchair she looked first to Maggie and then to the still figure of her son, all the while shaking her head.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Simms. I would have given anything not to let you know, but me and Charlie are leaving. We’re not going to wait until the morning, not now, and I didn’t want to leave him on his own, just in case. You were the only one I could think of to stay with him.’
‘You get orf, Maggie, love,’ the grief-stricken women said, her breath coming in short, painful gasps. ‘I’ll see ter ’im. Oh, don’t yer worry abaht that. I’ll see ter ’im all right.’
The bags were by the door and Maggie and Charlie were dressed in their outdoor coats. Telling Charlie to take the bags outside Maggie walked slowly back to where her friend was sitting.
Putting her arms around the fat neck she whispered brokenly, ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Simms. I wouldn’t have seen you hurt for the world. You’ve been so good to us, I don’t know how we would have managed without you at times.’
Patting the trembling arms, the bemused woman said abstractedly, ‘Don’t yer worry abaht me, love, nor ’im. ’E won’t bovver yer again. I can promise yer that. But where yer going ter sleep tonight. It’s gorn eleven, yer’ll ’ave a ’ard time finding somewhere decent round ’ere. Look, ’ere’s me key. I know me place ain’t much, but it’ll do for the night. At least yer’ll both be safe there until mornin’.’
Maggie hesitated, she wanted to get as far away from Jimmy Simms as possible, but what her friend said made sense. She’d be hard put to find anywhere else at this time of night.
Taking the key she kissed the wrinkled cheek, ‘Thanks, Mrs Simms, I’m grateful. We both are.’
Standing by the door, Maggie took one last look around her old home, then with a determined look on her face she left the room for the last time.
Left alone with her son, Ethel Simms put her hands over her face and cried. He’d been such a lovely boy, always helping out whenever he could, skipping off school to do odd jobs and then proudly handing over his meagre earnings to her. He’d been good with his brothers and sisters too. Playing with them for hours, and looking after them when she had a job to go to. How could such a lovely, good-natured child have turned into the brute of a man that now lay flat-out, stinking of beer on the floor. And when she thought of those two lovely girls… Oh dear lord, how could he? It had been bad enough that he had let his wife support him, but to try and rape his own sister-in-law when his wife was barely cold! What sort of a monster had she bred?
‘Ooh, Christ, me ’ead.’ Jimmy had come round, his moans filling the
room as he tried to sit up, his head held in his hands.
‘Where’s that little bleeder, I’ll do fer ’im…’ He stopped suddenly. Shaking his head he looked to where the large bulk of his mother sat staring at him from the armchair.
‘Ma… what you doing ’ere?’ he asked in bewilderment, he was sitting up now, his face creased in pain. About to rise to his feet he sensed his mother moving towards him. Staring up at the face above him he flinched at the loathing in the normally loving eyes.
‘What’s up, Ma, why yer looking at me…’
Ethel Simms moved nearer. ‘You bastard,’ she spat at him. Then her huge fist shot out, catching him squarely between the eyes, and for the second time in less than an hour, Jimmy Simms’ world went black.