A Child's Voice Calling (27 page)

‘You wait down here,’ she said to the children, ‘and I’ll go upstairs.’

She hesitated at the door of Annie’s room, then took a breath and went in. Nobody. The bed was neatly arranged, the counterpane pulled up to the bedhead. Mabel opened the wardrobe and saw at once that her mother’s best hat and jacket were not there. A sudden icy fear gripped her heart, but she went downstairs, as always hiding her own anxiety behind what she hoped was a reassuring manner. ‘Mum’s gone out,’ she told the bewildered children, ‘and I’ll have to go out, too.’

‘Where to?’ asked Daisy in alarm.

‘The doctor’s. I asked him to call and see Mum today, so he’ll probably know where she is. Now, George, ye’ll have to mind yer sister till I get back. Alice should be in soon, anyway.’

Daisy began to wail, ‘Where’s Mummy gone?’ It was a question that was to be repeated many times in the Sorrel Street home before they learned the answer.

With growing apprehension Mabel half walked, half ran towards the better residential area between the two commons. She knocked loudly on the door of the Knowles’s house in Hillier Road, to be answered by a young maid. ‘Is the doctor at home?’ she panted. ‘He called on my mother today and now she’s – I must see him, it’s very important!’ Her voice rose as she spoke.

‘Who is it, Susan?’ asked a man’s voice from within the house.

‘A young woman lookin’ for yer father, Dr Knowles. She seems in a bad way.’

‘All right, I’ll attend to her.’ And Stephen Knowles appeared, smiling down at Mabel. ‘Would you like to step inside? My father’s out on his rounds at present, but perhaps I can help you.’

Mabel followed him into a small study, puffing after her exertion. ‘It’s about my mother, Dr Stephen.’

On hearing his Christian name he turned and looked at her. ‘Now where have we met before? Yes! Your brother was injured in the Tower Hill riots last August and you came to look for him. Let me see – Miss Court, am I right? Mabel? You had a young man with you; he had a Salvation Army uniform –
oh, yes, I remember you, Miss Court! So what’s the trouble now?’

She was amazed at his memory, though in fact Stephen Knowles had heard the Court family history in some detail from his father, and Mabel would have been both surprised and embarrassed by his knowledge of them if she had not been so concerned about her mother.

‘Take a seat, Miss Court, and get your breath back. Shall I ring for Susan to bring us tea?’

‘No, thank yer, I can’t stay, I’m needed at home. The fact is, I asked Dr Knowles – yer father, I mean – to call on my mother today and now she’s gone. She’s not at home, though she hardly ever goes out. She’s not well and he might’ve said somethin’ that upset her. Oh, I’m so worried!’

He nodded, frowning slightly. ‘I can understand how you must feel, Miss Court, though there’s probably a simple explanation. My father isn’t likely to be back until—’ He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘But the sooner he knows the better. Look, I’ve got my motorcar outside, so I could go in search of him and send him straight round to your house.’

‘Oh, that’s really good o’ yer, Dr Stephen. I’ll go straight home, then.’ She rose with a grateful look.

He too got up from his chair. ‘Let me take you in the car.’

‘No, no, I’d rather yer went to find Dr Knowles,’ she answered, following him to the front door where he held out his hand.

‘You never know, Miss Court, by the time you get home, she may be waiting for you.’

‘If only that’d be true, doctor!’ she said fervently, shaking his hand.

‘If not, Miss Court, I think you should let the police know. Anyway, I’ll send my father straight round to Sorrel Street.’

He watched her slender figure hurrying along the tree-lined avenue, then put on his jacket and peaked cap, and got into his car. Such a pleasant girl, he thought, and really very pretty; what a shame that she had to carry so much responsibility on her young shoulders.

No news awaited Mabel at home, though Alice had arrived and the house seemed full of neighbours who had brought tea, milk, sugar and gloomy observations.

‘First
’e
does a runner, an’ now
’er
,’ said Mrs Clutton significantly. ‘Makes yer wonder, eh?’

‘Shouldn’t we let Grandmother know, Mabel?’ asked Alice.

‘Not yet, we don’t want her puttin’ her oar in,’ Mabel replied somewhat irritably. ‘If yer want to do somethin’ useful, Alice, go up to the police station on Lavender Hill and tell them about Mum being missing. They’ll send somebody round, I expect. And be quick about it!’

If only Harry were here! He was due to start training at Clapton College in September and Mabel was resigned to seeing even less of the man she loved; but at a time like this she simply longed for the sight of his face, his honest brown eyes. Just to hear his voice would give her courage, she thought, her mind reeling away from the nightmare possibilities. Oh, Mum, where are yer? If yer only knew the trouble ye’re giving us all . . .

When Dr Knowles strode in she jumped up and faced him almost accusingly. ‘What happened when
yer called today, doctor? What did yer say to her?’ she demanded, frightened by his worried expression.

‘My dear Mabel, I’m very sorry to hear this,’ he said. ‘Did she leave any word, was there a note in the house – under her pillow, under the clock on the mantelpiece?’

‘No, no, there’s nothing,’ replied Mabel impatiently. ‘For heaven’s sake, Dr Knowles, what did yer
say
to my poor mother? Did yer tell her what yer thought was wrong with her? She’s not well, I know that, and she wouldn’t have been able to go very far, but—’

‘But she could’ve got on a bus,’ put in Mrs Bull.

Knowles firmly took Mabel aside, out of earshot of the others. ‘I told her I thought she needed to see a specialist, Mabel, and said I’d arrange it.’

Mabel nodded. ‘Yes, I thought yer might send her to see somebody who could do somethin’ for women’s trouble.’

‘And I also suggested a blood test.’

‘Yes, she’s so anaemic, an’ no wonder, poor Mum.’ Mabel sighed. ‘But why would she just get up and go away without tellin’ anybody or leavin’ a message?’

The doctor frowned and shook his head. ‘I’d better tell you, my dear, she may be – probably
is
– suffering from a form of bacterial infection.’

‘Is that what yer told her?’ asked Mabel in new alarm. ‘Oh, poor Mum! She could be wanderin’ around somewhere, thinkin’ she’s got somethin’ very serious. Haven’t yer got
any
idea where she might’ve gone, Dr Knowles?’

Her distress was painful to witness and Knowles decided not to talk of blood tests, nor of the Institute, at least not until Annie Court was found. ‘She’s probably not very far away,’ he said carefully, not
wanting to reveal his own fears for Annie. ‘Perhaps she feels that she needs to be alone for a while, just to think things over. We mustn’t let our imaginations run away with us, my dear.’ Even to his own ears he sounded unconvincing and no wonder, for Mabel had put his uneasy suspicions into words.

He left the house soon after, patting Mabel’s shoulder and promising to keep in close touch.

Daisy began to cry again and Mabel’s first concern was to comfort the unhappy little girl. But what could she say to her? She prayed inwardly for courage and common sense.

And it seemed that her prayers were answered when Harry Drover arrived almost immediately after Knowles’s depature, thanks to a neighbour who had sent a message round to Falcon Terrace. Mabel practically threw herself into his arms and for the first time that day she wept.

Harry at once enfolded her and Daisy together in one loving embrace, proving himself once more to be a tower of strength. ‘We’d better send for Albert, Mabel dear. I can get a message to the
Warspite
through the Army, an’ maybe the commandant could get transport for him in a case like this. I’ll see what I can do, anyway. Yer’ll be glad to have ’im here until she’s found.’

‘Oh, Harry, Harry, God must’ve sent yer!’ And she kissed him in front of everybody. His arrival was well timed in every way, for Alice returned accompanied by a police sergeant and his assistant who asked questions about Annie Court’s recent movements and behaviour, her state of health and mind. It was a great support to have Harry at her side throughout this questioning, in which Mabel also spoke of her father’s abrupt departure on 30 March,
since when Annie had become more depressed. When asked about other family relatives Mabel mentioned her grandmother Court, but decided not to say anything about her mother’s sisters whom she had never met.

‘Right, we’ll send somebody round to 23 Macaulay Road, Tooting,’ said the sergeant. ‘What’s the situation between yer mother and her mother-in-law?’

Mabel replied that there was no love lost between the two women and that they seldom met.

On hearing about Dr Knowles’s visit to Annie that day, he said that he would go and speak to the doctor, a key witness as the last person to see and talk with Mrs Court, though a woman from Darnell Street, hearing that Annie was missing, now came round to say that she had seen her getting on a city bus around mid-afternoon, shortly after the accident on Lavender Hill.

Henry Knowles prepared himself to respond with apparent willingness when questioned by the police, while not revealing anything of what he considered confidential information, guarded by medical ethics. As a trusted, well-known general practitioner, he knew how to conceal without actually telling a falsehood. ‘Mrs Court has suffered for some years with the usual women’s problems, the result of childbearing,’ he told the sergeant. ‘I said I would arrange for her to see a specialist.’

‘Was her condition serious, Dr Knowles?’

‘It might turn out to be so, which is why I wanted a specialist’s opinion.’

‘Did Mrs Court realise this? Did she understand that her condition might be serious?’

‘I tried to reassure her, but I was not able to give her a definite answer one way or the other.’

‘But in your opnion, doctor—?’

‘It would need further investigation to make a definite diagnosis.’

In response to more questions he admitted that it was possible that Mrs Court might have wandered off in a state of anxiety, believing that she had a fatal illness.

The sergeant thanked him for his co-operation, but looked grave, adding that a detailed description of Mrs Court and the clothes she was wearing would be sent to other police stations in the area and hospital accident departments. ‘And suchlike places, Dr Knowles. Let’s hope that the poor woman’s found soon – and alive,’ he said as he took his leave.

Knowles shivered, silently praying to whatever deity there might be. If Annie Court had thought about what he had said and hit upon the truth he had concealed from her – or if she believed herself to be suffering from the dreaded ‘growth’ that so many women feared – he knew there was real danger that what the police officer had hinted at might turn out to be true.

At Sorrel Street another police officer called to say that a telephone communication had been received from the station at Amen Corner in Tooting. ‘Mrs Court senior says she ain’t seen yer mother, Miss Court,’ he told Mabel. ‘Our man who spoke to ’er says she can’t get over to see yer today. She’ll try an’ get over tomorow if there’s still no news.’

This was cold comfort and Mabel remembered that Alice had found Mimi strangely preoccupied and irritable when asked if she had seen Jack.

While Daisy cried for her mother and the rest of
them hung about talking and drinking tea, George sat silent and white-faced, overlooked in the comings and goings around him. Suddenly he got up and took his cap off its hook in the hallway. ‘I’m goin’ out to look for ’er,’ he announced.

‘Oh, George dear!’ Mabel at once reproached herself for not paying more attention to the quiet boy who never put himself forward. ‘It’ll soon be dark, an’ there are lots o’ people lookin’ for her, policemen and—’

‘But I know the places in the park where she liked to walk on Sunday arf’noons an’ when we ’ad the coronation an’ that,’ faltered the boy, rubbing his eyes.

Harry caught Mabel’s eye and shot her a meaningful look. ‘George wants to do somethin’ an’ I reckon he’s right, Mabel,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘Tell yer what, George – you an’ me’ll go to the park together an’ yer can show me the places where yer mother might’ve gone.’ Turning to Mabel, he added, ‘Don’t worry, Mabel, it’ll be best for him to be doin’ somethin’. I’ll take good care o’ him.’

‘Thanks, Harry, I know yer will.’ His quick sensitivity was what she most loved about him, though at the mention of Battersea Park she immediately pictured the boating lake.

Somehow the day got through to its end. Harry and George returned from the park after an hour, and George and Daisy were persuaded to go to bed. Mabel advised Alice to get some rest, while she and Harry sat up with Mrs Bull to await any news. She was thankful when the other neighbours drifted away to their homes and, after what seemed like the hundredth cup of tea, silence fell upon the trio as midnight approached.

A loud knocking at the door caused all three of them to leap up from their chairs and upstairs Daisy called out, ‘Mummy!’

Mabel wrenched the door open and saw Albert on the step. She burst into tears.

‘Blimey, Mabel, this ain’t much of a welcome for yer poor bruvver,’ he said, reaching out to hold her. ‘An’ ’ere’s me come all the way from Green’ive, fanks to the Sally Army. Hey! Don’t ever remember seein’ me big sister pipin’ ’er eye before.’

He enfolded her in a bear-hug and she quickly wiped her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Albert, only—’

Only her tears were for disappointment at not seeing her mother and yet there was thankfulness too that it was not a bringer of bad news. And there was relief at having Albert home to share the burden with her, thanks to Harry’s foresight.

Of course Alice, George and Daisy came down to greet their big brother, and when they were sent back to bed Albert suggested that Harry should go home and rest. ‘Yer got work termorrer, ‘Arry, so you get some shut-eye an’ I’ll sit up wiv Mabel, poor gal. An’ yer can send ’er ’ome, an’ all,’ he added under his breath, nodding towards Mrs Bull.