11

Lil

LONDON, THE NEXT DAY

A SEPARATION THAT HURTS

The yellowing walls that showed layers of paint peeling off their brick surface had been stained by the smoking of a million fags, thought Lil, as she breathed in the stale smoke of the detective’s third fag. A small room, it contained only a table and four chairs. A wood stove gave off fumes, but little heat. Trying again, she begged, ‘Please let me see Gillian please.’

‘I’ve told yer, Miss. You two cannot be together. One of you is the witness, the other killed them blokes. She is saying it is her, you are saying it is you. Now who are we to believe, eh? As one of you is fibbin’. You didn’t both kill them, nor did you kill one each.’

His pudgy eyes held a hint of kindness, but his attitude was one of impatience. Nothing about him spoke of him being a detective. She’d imagined detectives to look smart and to wear a uniform like the bobbies on the street. But his shirt strained over his belly, leaving each button looking as if it would pop open at any minute. He constantly ran his finger between his neck and shirt as if to relieve the pressure. The action caused grime to lie around the top of his collar. The sight brought Lil the thought that she’d like to get it on her washboard and give it a good scrub. Funny the thoughts that popped into yer head.

‘Well?’

His voice made her jump. Why did she keep going into a dreamlike state? Lifting her chin she said, ‘It was me. Gillian is hysterical . . . She—’

‘’Ow come she had the knife, and you hadn’t got any clothes on? Look, Miss, I reckon you’re trying to protect her. And if what she is saying is true, there ain’t no need for yer to do so. As I see it, them bastards raped the pair of you. ’Er first, then you. When she could, she came to ’elp you. If I’m wrong, where did you get the knife and ’ow did she get it off you?’

‘I – I . . .’

‘She knows where she got it. She says it was in the jacket pocket of the bloke that done her first.’

Lil slumped forward. She couldn’t defend Gillian any longer. Her ragged mind wouldn’t give her any answers to make it sound plausible that it was she who had done the killing. Lifting her head she asked, ‘What will happen to her?’

‘She’s already gone. She’s on ’er way to the mental hospital – she don’t know what day it is. Turned her ’ead, it has. But she knows what ’appened, and so do you. Now, let’s have a proper and truthful statement, eh?’

‘You can’t do that. You can’t charge her, when she don’t know what’s going on!’

‘We know that, and that’s why we ’aven’t charged her. Not yet. She needs ’elp, and they can give it to ’er and at the same time keep ’er secure, pending our investigations. ’Er sister’s been sent for. She will look after ’er. Now my advice to you is to tell the truth, word by word as it ’appened, and let me get it all down. Give me something to work on. I reckon this case could be chucked out, ’ow it’s lookin’. Self-defence, I’d call it.’

Lil sighed. She had no choice but to comply. The tiredness ached her bones. It had been a long night.

She and Gillian had made it out of the building and begged a passer-by to fetch the police. At first he’d looked as if he wouldn’t help them. His eyes had searched up and down the street, probably thinking their attackers were still lurking. She hadn’t been able to tell him they were dead, but had just stood there shivering and crying, trying to support Gillian.

Before attempting to leave the cellar they’d put their coats and boots on over their battered bodies, but still, she knew the bloke she was asking to help could see what they’d been through. Her face had been covered in splashes of blood. He’d have seen that in the light of his torch – something he shouldn’t have had, as it was past blackout time.

After a moment he’d said, ‘Look, I don’t want any involvement, but there is a phone in the hall of the flats where I live. It ain’t far. I’ll ring the Old Bill and tell them about you, but that’s it! I ain’t getting dragged into this.’

Together she and Gillian had huddled in the police van. Both in pain, both weeping and unable to speak to each other.

In the police station they had stood at the desk whilst an officer said, ‘These two were apprehended at the scene of a murder – two blokes, knifed in a cellar. Their names are unknown, as these two ’aven’t spoken either to me or to each other yet.’

‘It looks like they need a doctor. See to it, Robinson.’ This came from the desk sergeant and gave Lil some hope that all would be all right. The doctor would see to Gillian, ease her pain and give her something to calm her. But the doctor hadn’t come for an hour or more, and in the meantime they had separated her from Gillian and she’d found herself in a dirty cell with a bucket in the corner. The smell had brought the vomit from her, leaving her empty and dry; but no drink, no wash or comfort of any kind had been offered. Not that she had worried for herself, but for Gillian. All night she had begged to see Gillian and they had ignored her. The doctor had made things worse, examining her in a way that spoke of his disbelief in rape. ‘You weren’t a virgin, I see. So you knew what it was all about then?’ Those words had turned her blood cold. It was as if he was calling her a prostitute. She could only imagine what an examination of that kind had done to Gillian. Already sore and torn, especially as she’d been a virgin, any further intrusion in this rough and uncaring way would have been agony for her. But at least it was ordered that they were to be washed and given soothing ointments. A woman had done this – a kind of nurse, Lil supposed, but not the same kind as herself. This one had a judgemental attitude that made you feel guilty, even though you were innocent. It felt good, though, to have her body clean at least, though she doubted she’d ever feel clean inside again.

And now Ruby, poor Ruby, would have to face the shock of all that had happened to her sister and how it had left her. On top of this, Ruby was fighting her own battle with what Lil was sure was cancer. Life was unfair sometimes, and more so for the likes of her and Ruby and Gillian.

‘Can I get another wash and a pot of tea, before I tell you what happened?’ Her plea expressed the disgust she felt for herself: she could still feel Brian inside her and see him slumping, his life’s blood pumping all over her.

‘Not a wash – you’ve ’ad one, and we need your statement while you’re thinkin’ of givin’ it. So just start talking. The quicker this is done, the quicker you can get some tea.’

‘But I need a drink, I can hardly talk.’

‘I’ll say what yer need or don’t need – look, all right. I’ll give in over the cup of tea, but that’s all. And don’t think of me as ’eartless. I want to see you’re all right, but I also want the truth, so we can get yer out of here. I don’t ’appen to believe yer should be prosecuted, but it ain’t up to me, and you telling lies ain’t ’elping me to convince those that make the decisions. No matter how well-intentioned your lies are, they ain’t ’elping!’

‘Aye, I understand. And I’m sorry.’

Although it was painful, she managed to tell him everything that went on – though not about the reason Alfie set them up, or of his involvement; she just said that Jimmy and Brian had a score to settle with her husband. Something stopped her from telling the truth. Pride – a pride that didn’t want them knowing she had accused her own husband of raping her, and that he had arranged for those men to show her what real rape was. Nor did she tell him about the orderly, Arthur, revealing where she was at a given time. He weren’t bad, Arthur, just a bit misguided in his decisions and a penny-grabber, no matter what it took. To her mind, the police had no need to know either of those things.

Three hours later, making her way to the house she still referred to as Gillian’s mam’s, but which she looked upon as her home, Lil wouldn’t have cared if she died. What was the use of her life? Everything around her lay in ruins. Her life was turned upside down once more and, through her actions, young Gillian, who’d never done anything bad and who’d befriended her when she most needed a friend, had been subjected to indescribable horror. Oh, Gillian, lass. What have I brought down on you?

Weary to the extreme, she almost wanted to ignore Ruby’s house as she passed it, but knew she must call in. She dreaded knocking on the door. In the half-light of the early morning all the houses still standing were blacked out against the threat of more air-raids, which Lil felt confident wouldn’t come again. With no lights showing, the houses looked dismal. But she knew that wasn’t the case in the daylight. Each housewife, proud of her little home, would soon be outside, hair tied in a headscarf, a pinny on and a kneeling mat at the ready, scrubbing her steps and wiping her windowsills, and looking with scorn on those who didn’t do the same! The thought made her smile – something she never thought she’d do again. But it was the spirit of these London folk that allowed her to smile. No matter what hit them, they came up smiling and spouting their rhyming slang. Used to their way of speaking now, she sometimes even slipped into it herself.

Lil knocked timidly on Ruby’s front door. When it opened, Ruby leaned on the doorframe looking down at her. A tear trickled down Lil’s cheek as she gazed back at her. ‘I’m sorry, lass. I’m heart-sorry.’

‘Come on in. Tell me what ’appened. ’Ow did me little skin-and-blister get into the state she’s in, eh? Look, I’m not blaming you. Gillian has told me it wasn’t your fault. I just need to know what ’appened.’

Sipping the hot tea that Ruby poured from a pot standing on the side of her stove, Lil didn’t flinch at the stewed taste of it, but told Ruby all that had gone on. As she talked she could feel how raw the wounds still were, the disgust she’d felt at the sordidness and brutality of it all and, mostly, at the blood and gore from the deaths of Jimmy and Brian.

For some reason, as she spoke she kept thinking of Jimmy and Brian’s mams. The two women were staunch members of the community in the little town of Rawston. Neither deserved the way their lads had turned out. How will they be feeling when they find out what their sons have done, and what happened to them? And when they got to hear that Lil was involved, what would they think of her? Would they take it out on Mildred? She must write to Mildred and explain. And find some way of telling her, without involving her son.

‘Oh God, Lil! Oh, my poor Gillian; she’s still a young girl and yet she’s been through so much. ‘’Ow will we mend her from this – ’ow?’ Ruby’s body slumped from the defiant stance she had taken at the door. Holding her in her arms, Lil felt the pity of it all; aye, and the guilt. It was no wonder Ruby felt broken, with Gillian in the throes of a breakdown, violated mentally and physically, and she herself battling against illness and having to face all of this.

‘I – I don’t know how to say how sorry I am, Ruby.’

‘Don’t. I know this all came about because of folk attached to you, but I can’t see that any of it is your fault. If you told them coppers all what you’ve told me, then surely they won’t prosecute. I mean, Gillian saved your life and her own, by the sound of things.’

‘She did. I reckon as they would have killed us after. I mean, they couldn’t have left us to tell the tale – they were wanted criminals as it was. Anyroad, thanks for saying what you have, love, it’s good to hear you are thinking that way. Though this isn’t at all what you need, with your health problems and everything. How’s things going for you, lass? Is the treatment having an effect?’

‘I don’t think so. But they say it will. I’ve put in a request to ’ave me boys back from evacuation. I can’t wait to see them and hug them, but I ’ave me reservations. In some ways I don’t want them to see me dying.’

‘You’re not dying, Ruby.’

‘Look, love. I ain’t said anything, but they’ve told me it’s cancer – it’s in me lungs and they reckon it may have spread. And at times like this families should be together, shouldn’t they, Lil? I should have me boys with me. What if something happens to me – I’d never see . . .’ Ruby’s tears engulfed her. And although in her heart Lil had known the nature of Ruby’s illness, having it confirmed took away the last drop of hope she had in her, although she couldn’t show that.

‘Oh, Ruby, lass. Ruby, don’t. I don’t know what to say. But I do know you’re doing the right thing. And it will help Gillian an’ all to know the lads are with you. She misses them and hates to see you pining for them. Let’s hope the authorities agree. I think they will, as one or two young ’uns are beginning to come back, as it is.’

‘I know, but some parents have had to go and snatch them back. They live in fear of getting into trouble, but I don’t think those that put the scheme into operation care any more, now that the raids have stopped. It wasn’t right what they did, Lil, taking our kids like that. They should have taken families together.’

‘I know. Have you heard much from them?’

‘Ronnie writes – he begs me to fetch him. He says the folk who have him don’t want him. They make him eat on his own, and call him a scruff. It breaks me ’eart, Lil. But I don’t think they are all like that. Ronnie said there’s a couple of lads with a farmer up the road from him and they are as ’appy as pigs in muck. And Gillian were all right, weren’t she? I know she missed home, but she doesn’t say anything bad about the people who took her in.’

‘She was fine. She brought a new lease of life to the place. The Baracloughs were reet sad to have her leave. Anyroad, lass, you’ll soon have your lads with you, I’m sure. Now, Ruby, love, I can see as you’re exhausted. I’ll fill you a tub and you can have a bath. And I’ll get you some breakfast – I’ll fry off some tatties for you, then make sure tonight’s supper’s on the go an’ all.’

‘Tatties? What’s them when they’re ’ome?’

‘Ha, it’s time you southerners learnt a bit of our northern way of speaking. Tatties are potatoes, and when they are fried they’re delicious. You’re in for a treat, lass. Now, have you still got that bit of scrag-end Gillian told me you were going to cook for our tea last night? I could do a stew and leave it on the side of the stove all day; it’ll be done nice for when your man comes back.’

‘Lawd only knows if he will. He don’t come ’ome much at all. Says he has to stay at the depot as there’s so much to do, but I reckon he’s got ’imself a floozy, the bastard!’

‘Naw, not Joe. If he says he has to work, then I reckon as that’s the truth. You’re not thinking straight. Come on, let’s get you that bath, and I’ll peel them tatties while you soak.’

‘I can manage, Lil. I’ve got all day. You’ve been through Hell and don’t look as though you’ve had a wink of sleep.’

‘I haven’t, but that’s not important.’

‘Lil, you didn’t deserve all of this. You’re a good person through and through. What you must be feeling inside, after what that bloke did to you, I can’t think. But here you are, more concerned for me. You’re a champion.’

As she lifted the heavy pot off the hob and poured the boiling water from it into the tin bath that she’d dragged in from the yard, Lil didn’t feel like a champion – she felt more like an animal, as that was how she’d been used. But at the end of the day her lot was nothing compared to Ruby’s and Gillian’s, so she was just going to get on with it. Life has to go on – that was the saying everyone had on their lips. But that didn’t stop her questioning: how? How could life go on after what had just happened?

She poured some more water into the bath and helped Ruby to undress. Seeing the bones jutting out through the tissue-thin skin of her body took away any pity Lil felt for herself and set up a prayer in her heart: Please, God, help us. Make Ruby well, bring home her boys, and most of all heal Gillian. Heal her mind and her body, for the lass doesn’t deserve what’s happened to her.

Walking the few hundred yards or so to Gillian’s mam’s house, with a hot pot of stew wrapped in a towel under her arm to finish off cooking later, even though she didn’t know whether she could eat it, Lil thought about the last few years. It seemed she’d been transported to Hell; not that she’d been in Heaven, as it were. Life before the war had been humdrum and centred around Alfie’s whims. But she’d known some happiness then, despite everything. Alfie could be funny and used to make her laugh. She’d loved going to the pub with him on a Saturday night and joining in the free-’n’-easy, singing her heart out. Aye, and she’d enjoyed what followed when they’d got into bed an’ all. When did it all change? How did she, a married northern lass, end up here in the derelict East End of London, separated from Alfie, nursing the sick and having stuff happen to her that she’d never dreamed would? She didn’t know; what she did know was that she didn’t want to keep thinking about everything that had happened – she wanted to forget. She would get more involved with the war effort than she currently was, and then she wouldn’t have time to think about it all.

The Queen Alexandra regiment came to her mind. She’d thought about it a few times, ever since an officer had told her about the lasses belonging to this army of nurses. They had saved his life on a hospital train that operated near the front line, picking up the wounded, caring for them and then seeing they were shipped home. He’d told her that the Queen Alexandra regiment had a long history. Funny that she’d never known about them till she entered nursing. He’d said they really went back to the Crimean War, when Florence Nightingale started to train nurses in military nursing. Now Lil did know about this wonderful lady, and probably wouldn’t be doing what she was now if it wasn’t for Florence and her work. He’d gone on to tell her that the late Queen Alexandra had taken on the forming of a proper regiment of nurses and had been its president. Lil had been fascinated by it all and could have listened to him for hours, and in her heart a longing had awoken to do the same as those nurses.

She could join the Auxiliary Territorial Service. As a nurse, she would be attached to the Queen Alexandra regiment. She couldn’t join them directly, as they only seemed to take on girls from middle- and upper-class families. Eeh, it sounds just the job for me, though. Aye, and when all of this is behind me, and Gillian and Ruby are sorted, because I could never leave them until they are settled, I’ll see about joining. I can see meself out there, on the front line, keeping the wounded alive.

She’d be doing similar work to what she was doing now – only she’d be away from all that she had experienced here.

It felt good to have something to look forward to, and it lifted her spirits as she picked her way over piles of bricks that were once part of a house that a family had lived in. Where were they now? She hoped they were safe . . . She wished everyone could be safe and live a normal life once again, but she couldn’t see a time when that would happen.