Kathleen abruptly changed the subject. ‘First of all, like I said, we must keep Saunders and Harry apart – at least until I can talk to Judy and make her see that Harry still loves and wants her.’
For now, the
only thing they needed to concentrate on, she said, was getting Saunders out of Judy’s life for good. ‘If my plan is going to work, it all has to be done quietly, without Phil knowing until it’s too late.’ For that, I need you to give me Judy’s address,’ she reminded Pauline. ‘Then when Harry comes here – which he will – don’t tell him anything! Whatever you do,
please
do not tell him where to
find Saunders. Speak to your husband. Let him know what’s going on. Ask him not to let out any information with regard to Judy, or Saunders. Will you do that for me? Will you give me a chance to get Judy away from that madman, without blood being spilled?’
Pauline was in full agreement. ‘It seems to me that Harry is exactly what Judy needs, though if I’m honest, I don’t think she’ll go with you.’
‘We’ll see.’ Although, in view of what she had already learned, and having personally now witnessed Judy’s nervous nature, Kathleen was not altogether confident.
‘I hope you understand what you might be letting yourself in for,’ Pauline warned her. ‘If Saunders ever found out you were trying to take his wife from him, there’s no telling what he might do.’
She gave Kathleen her absolute promise.
‘Rest assured though. If Harry does turn up here, he will get nothing from us.’
A few minutes later, Alan poked his head round the door. The two women informed him of what was happening, and he readily agreed with everything they asked of him. ‘Phil Saunders?’ He gave a little smile. ‘Never heard of him!’
A short time later he insisted on driving Kathleen home, though when they got to the end
of the lane, she asked him to drop her off there. ‘Best if I walk the rest of the way,’ she said. ‘When Harry comes into the pub, sure I don’t want him knowing I’ve been anywhere near you or your good wife.’
She waved at him as he drove away, calling, ‘Thank you for everything.’
As she approached the house, she felt so much lighter of heart. ‘I’m sorry, Harry, me darlin’, she whispered. ‘I’ve
scuppered your plans, so I have.’ She saw him through the window, pacing back and forth as he did when troubled. ‘Sure, it’s the only way.’
The following day, just as Kathleen had predicted, Harry came into the pub at lunchtime and introduced himself. ‘I’m Harry Blake. Sorry to intrude, only I’m looking to find a man by the name of Phil Saunders. His wife is called Judy. I’m told you might
know their whereabouts?’
While he spoke, Pauline quietly took stock of him. Judy had described him so many times, and now here, standing before her in the flesh, was the man himself … Harry Blake, Judy’s first love, and judging by what Judy had confided, he was also her last.
Pauline thought him to be a fine, handsome fellow, and as Kathleen had informed her, he was built like someone who could
take care of himself. She assumed he had been in the Army and fought during the war, not like Phil who had been an ‘Erk’ or mechanic for the RAF and had escaped action.
‘I’m sorry,’ she lied, ‘I know most of my customers, but I don’t recollect anyone of that name.’
Harry was devastated. ‘Please? Think hard. He’s a stocky man with darkish hair and a quick temper. Apparently he got in trouble
with the police, right outside this pub.’
Pauline laughed. ‘We get a lot of trouble outside the pub,’ she informed him. ‘Like I say, I can’t recall anyone by the name of Phil Saunders. Sorry.’
Harry was not about to give up so easily. ‘Is there anyone else here who might have heard of him?’ he enquired.
Pauline gave a good performance. ‘Hang on a minute,’ she said, ‘I’ll ask.’
Going to the
door beside the optics leading to their private quarters, she called inside, ‘Alan! Can you come here a minute?’
When Alan appeared, Harry asked him the same question. ‘Do you know where I might find a man called Phil Saunders? I’m told he frequents this pub. His wife’s name is Judy.’
Alan pretended to think, then shook his head decisively. ‘Never heard of him,’ he shrugged. ‘Sorry, mate.’
When Harry went away, visibly disheartened, the two of them watched him from the window.
‘It’s a bloody shame.’ Alan hated the lying. ‘He looks like a decent sort. I so wanted to tell him that we
did
know Saunders – and where he lives. I feel like a louse, turning him away like that.’
Pauline, however, felt as though they were being cruel to be kind. ‘That man loves Judy from way back. You’ve
seen her face when she talks about him. According to Kathleen, there’s been bad blood between Harry and Saunders these many years. If Harry goes bursting in there, wanting to take Judy away, all hell will be let loose, with that lass caught up in the middle of it.’
‘You’re right,’ Alan conceded. ‘I know exactly what I would do if someone was looking to take you.’ He gave her a cuddle. ‘But then
you have a man who adores you, with or without your bad temper and sloppy ways.’
‘Hey!’ She pushed him away. ‘Watch it, matey.’ Then she returned him to the subject at hand. ‘You do realise that Kathleen is determined to get Judy away from Saunders.’
‘Yes, I could see that.’
‘I’m hoping she might succeed where I’ve failed,’ Pauline sighed. ‘I am worried though. We both know what Phil Saunders
is capable of.’
Alan nodded. ‘I’ve been wondering whether we should call the police and let them deal with it.’
‘And tell them what?’ Pauline was realistic. ‘That he adores Judy with every bone in his body; or that he goes out to work in order to keep her? Should we tell them all that, and then say we’re concerned for Judy, and that we suspect he beats her?’
‘Maybe they’ll question her,’ Alan
suggested. ‘They’ll know then, won’t they?’
‘They won’t know because she won’t tell them the truth. Saunders will be there, looking over her shoulder; he’ll have his arm round her; he’ll smile and be the perfect husband. You know as well as I do, that Judy will deny everything; she’ll agree with whatever he says, because he’ll be right there, listening to her every word. And when the police have
gone because they have no evidence, he’ll threaten her … probably thrash her within an inch of her life. So, you tell me, husband of mine … what good will it do to bring in the coppers?’
‘All right! All right! I see what you mean. But I don’t like the idea of that lovely Kathleen going there on her own. I reckon it might be a good idea if I went along with her. What d’you think?’
‘I think you
would be doing exactly what Kathleen does not want – otherwise she would let Harry go. The plan is to quietly persuade Judy to come away with her old friend, and take time to recover; to build up her confidence, and to let Harry and that darling woman take care of her.’
Having made her point, she finished, ‘Kathleen’s idea has every chance of working. At least it can’t do any harm.’ She reminded
her husband, ‘You’ve heard Judy speak of her with affection; so you know that if she’ll listen to anyone, it would be Kathleen.’
‘I know all that,’ Alan replied. ‘I know she has Judy’s interests at heart, but Saunders is a sick man. Before he would let Judy go, he’d finish her, and likely himself too.’
With that sobering thought they each returned to their chores.
Pauline chose not to tell
Alan about the child whom Kathleen had mentioned. After learning about this, she now felt able to see the wider picture.
She firmly believed that the loss of the child could have played a big part in Judy losing her confidence, and making bad decisions with regard to her future. The shock of Harry leaving, and then dealing with their child being stillborn and with no one to confide in, would
affect anyone deeply, let alone a young girl.
‘Poor kid!’ Pauline murmured. ‘No wonder she turned herself over to the first person who promised her love and care. Unfortunately for her, this happened to be Saunders, a man with neither heart nor scruples. A man who saw a weak and wounded girl that he could bully and control, and treat as a punchbag whenever the fancy took him.’
And because she
thought she deserved it, Judy had not cared enough to protect herself.
‘Hey now.’ Alan’s voice gentled into her mind. ‘Don’t go fretting, love. Maybe Kathleen really can get through to her where we have not been able to, eh?’
Pauline nodded. ‘I hope so,’ she whispered. ‘Oh Alan, I do hope so.’
Early on the Monday morning, as Harry was getting ready for work, Kathleen’s phone rang. ‘Answer
that, will you, Harry,’ she called from the kitchen. ‘Sure, I’ve no idea who that could be this time o’ the morning.’
She overheard the gist of the conversation. Harry sounded upset.
‘Oh, I’m very sorry to hear that, Mrs Sparrow. Please give him my best wishes for a speedy recovery. Look, I think I’d better come down and sort things out myself. Could I meet you at the church this afternoon?’
He fell silent for a time, listening earnestly to what was being said, before replying, ‘Oh, I’d say early to mid-afternoon, all being well. Yes, I’ve got your number, I’ll stop off and telephone you. Thanks very much for letting me know so soon. Goodbye, Mrs Sparrow.’
‘Is everything all right?’ Kathleen ambled in from the kitchen.
‘There’s been an accident,’ Harry informed her. ‘Poor Mr Sparrow,
the gardener who looks after Sara’s grave in Weymouth, has broken his hip. That was Mrs Sparrow, his wife, on the phone. He’s in hospital, apparently, and won’t be fit for work again for some considerable time. She says he tripped over his spade, but I wouldn’t mind betting that a bottle of whisky came into it somewhere!’
Both he and Kathleen chuckled before Harry went on, ‘I shall have to drive
down there and sort things out. I can tidy up the grave and find someone else to look after it for us.’ Part of him longed to be with Sara again; another part was gripped with a pain too deep for telling.
‘Don’t worry about Tom,’ Kathleen offered. ‘I’ll take him to school as usual, so I will. I’ll have him here when you get back … but it won’t be tonight, I shouldn’t think. Or will it?’
Harry
thanked her profusely. ‘I know you would look after Tom,’ he said, ‘but I was wondering – should I take him with me to visit his mother’s grave? He’ll lose a day from school, but I’ll try and make sure I get everything sorted, so we can make our way back
tonight. It’s a long day’s driving, but I’d rather we spent the night here.’
When Harry made his call through to Amy, she assured him that,
‘Mr Jacobs will understand. Besides, it’ll be quiet today. It always is after the big sale.’
When he replaced the receiver, he found Tom had come into the room, dressed in his school uniform and ready for breakfast.
Harry collected the boy into his arms and sat down at the table. ‘I have to go back to where we used to live. The man who looks after Mammy’s garden has hurt his leg and can’t do
it for a while.’
Tom was suddenly bright-eyed and wide awake. ‘Can I come too? Please, Daddy, I want to come and see Mammy’s garden!’
Harry held him close. ‘That’s what I was about to tell you … that you could either go to school, or come with me to take some flowers for Mammy.’
‘Take some flowers for Mammy! Yes please, Daddy.’
An hour later, after Tom had been fed and washed and changed into
his smart little trousers and jacket, the two of them set off. ‘Don’t you worry!’ Kathleen called. ‘I’ll be sure and call the school, so I will.’
When they were gone from sight, she shed a little tear. ‘Well now, doesn’t the house feel awful empty without them.’ She gazed round her much-loved home, then wiped her eyes. ‘Now stop yer silly blubbering and get this house cleared up, she scolded
herself. ‘The pair of them will be back soon enough and sure, doesn’t this give you a chance to have a grand tidy-up. Men – they are the very devil at making a mess!’
A
T NINE-THIRTY ON
that same Monday morning, Sammie was in her room packing her bag, while downstairs Nancy and Don were caught up in a heated argument. ‘What the devil does Mac think he’s playing at?’ Don demanded. ‘Can’t you see what he’s up to? What right has he to interfere anyway!’
Don was beside himself. ‘My granddaughter should be going off to college to learn a skill,
not taking off to live with
them
! For heaven’s sake, Nancy, talk some sense into her!’
Frustrated, Nancy had given up. ‘I’ve tried until I’m blue in the face, but she’s too pig-headed to listen. Why will she always go the opposite way to what we want? I’m sorry, Dad, but the plain truth is, she’s beyond me. I can’t argue with her any more. As of now, I’m washing my hands of her. Let her go to
Mac’s; let her earn a living in the big wide world. Let her realise how hard life can be. If she wants to work in some dreary office, let her get on with it. Because I for one am past caring!’
‘Good.’ Sammie appeared at the door. ‘Because I’m fed up with everybody telling me what to do.’ Advancing into the room she looked from one to the other, her gaze resting on Nancy. ‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ she
told her sincerely. ‘I don’t have a burning ambition to rule the world. And it’s high time I moved out of home for a while. I know I cause a lot of rows. All I want is to earn a living and make a life for myself. Is that so very wrong?’
While Nancy looked away, too upset to reply, Don stepped forward.
‘Yes, it’s your life to do with as you please, but don’t you think it might have been more
courteous, at the very least, to discuss these plans with your parents first?’
‘Maybe,’ she conceded, ‘but to be honest I thought you would all talk me out of it, and my mind was made up. Oh look, Grandad, I may be wrong, I know that, but for now, I just want to see what it’s like in the outside world and have my own money.’
‘So you keep saying. But for pity’s sake, Sammie, why does it have
to be with Mac?’
Somewhat taken aback by her grandfather’s question, Sammie shrugged her shoulders. ‘Why not?’
‘Because, well … Mac is family. I thought your whole argument was that you wanted to get away from family. I thought you wanted to be independent?’
‘I do! But it makes sense, don’t you think? Uncle Mac has built a thriving business; he’s wealthy and shrewd, and he’ll not only teach
me, but he’ll give me somewhere to live, and pay me a decent wage as well.’
She glanced across at Nancy, who was seated on the sofa, her face turned away. ‘Honestly, Mother, I never meant to upset you – or anyone else, come to that.’
Nancy kept her face averted. ‘Oh, do what you please. You will anyway.’
‘Can we make a bargain then?’
Suddenly, Nancy was on her feet and glaring at her. ‘What
nonsense are you talking now?’
‘It’s not nonsense!’ Sammie protested. ‘If you and Dad let me go to Uncle Mac for one year, without kicking up a fuss, I promise I’ll consider going to college next year.’
This was not enough for Nancy. ‘Sorry, that won’t do. It’s no good you just considering it,’ she said. ‘I want you to give me your solemn promise now.’
‘But what if I’m doing really well with
Uncle Mac?’ the girl wanted to know. ‘What if I’m happy, and making a name for myself in his company? Surely you wouldn’t want me to give it up?’
‘Promise me, Sammie!’ Nancy would not give an inch. ‘Even if you’re flying high and he’s offered you your own office and given you a secretary, it will not hurt you to go to college. That way you will always have something to back you up. Everybody
knows, you can never go wrong with solid qualifications.’ Then, seeing her daughter’s obdurate face, she flounced out of the room, her final words echoing behind her. ‘That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.’
Sammie shouted after her, ‘That’s not fair! You can’t have it all your own way, Mother. I deserve some say in my own future!’
The anger slid away and a sadness washed over her. ‘Why is she
so hard on me, Grandad?’ she asked, the tears flowing down her face. ‘It’s almost as though she doesn’t want me to do well with Uncle Mac.’
‘Oh, sweetheart, it’s only because she wants you to have good qualifications, so if anything goes wrong in the future, you will stand a good chance of securing a decent position.’
‘That’s what David said,’ Sammie revealed. ‘We had a real row last night,
and now it’s Mum’s turn to have a go at me.’ Looking at him through tear-filled eyes, she said, ‘You’re not even happy for me – I can tell.’
Don felt the need to justify himself. ‘All I want is for you to be happy,’ he said. ‘The thing is, your Uncle Mac works eighteen hours a day, six days a week. On the seventh day, he sits in his office at home, phoning and scribbling, and planning this and
that. Rita says she feels like a widow most of the time; he thinks, dreams and lives his work.’
He held the girl close. ‘That’s not much of a life, is it? None of us want that for you.’
‘But it won’t be like that.’
Don shook his head. ‘Like I say … it’s your life, my darling.’ But oh, how they would all miss her. He secretly hoped she would decide to stay at home.
Sammie found her mother in
the garden, smoking a cigarette and striding the lawn like a crazy woman, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards. ‘What now?’ she snapped as Sammie caught up with her. ‘More arguments, is it?’
‘No, Mother. I want us to be friends,’ Sammie assured her. ‘I don’t want us to part like this.’ She shivered; it was a chilly, rainy day.
‘So, you still intend going to your Uncle Mac’s then?’
Sammie nodded.
‘Right then.’ Pushing the girl aside, Nancy told her, ‘It’s obvious you don’t give a damn about anyone else. As far as I can see, there is nothing more to say.’ With that she strode off back into the house and slammed the kitchen door.
A quarter of an hour later, right on the dot, Mac drove up in his car; surprised to see Sammie sitting outside on the wall, with her suitcase on
the ground beside her. Getting out of the car he came across to her.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
‘Yes, Uncle Mac, I’m fine.’ Sammie handed him the case. ‘Can we go?’
Mac was perplexed. ‘Well, yes, we can go, but where is everybody? What are you doing out here?’
When she looked away, he groaned. ‘Oh, I see. There’s been a
row. Somebody doesn’t think you should be coming to work for me, eh?’
‘Please, Uncle Mac, let’s just go.’
Mac stood his ground. ‘Is it your grandad?’ he asked in a stern voice. ‘Has Don been trying to persuade you not to come away with me?’
‘Not just Grandad,’ she informed him. ‘Mother and David too. I managed to talk Dad round. He gave me his blessing and fifty pounds before he went to work, and he and Mum are having a row about it. The others are all nagging
me to stay here and do a course at college.’
‘And what have you said?’
‘I just said it was my life and I can do whatever I like.’
‘Oh, Sammie, that was a bit strong. After all, you’re still very young. Well, seventeen seems young to me.’
‘Please, Uncle Mac. My mind is made up. I want to work this year and then next year I can think about whether I want to go to college and get some qualifications.
I am just so sick of being in a classroom.’
‘And if I don’t take you on, you’ll still go out to work?’
‘Yes, come hell or high water.’
‘Then I’ve got no choice,’ he conceded. ‘I have to take you on.’ Taking her case, he put it in the boot. ‘You wait in the car,’ he said. ‘I need to speak with your mother.’
Nancy was waiting at the door as he came up the steps. ‘You’re taking her then?’ She
stood, formidable, arms folded and a stony look on her face.
‘She gave me no choice,’ he revealed. ‘If I don’t take her on, she’ll get work elsewhere, that’s what she said. To my mind, it’s best if she comes to me and Rita, rather than be let loose in the big wide world, don’t you think?’
‘She should be going to college,’ Nancy said obstinately. ‘That’s what I want for her.’
‘I’ll look after
her, I promise.’
She stared at him with a hard expression. ‘You better had,’ she warned.
‘Don’t worry, I will.’
At that moment, Don came to the door. ‘You managed to persuade her then, did you?’ he asked his brother.
For a moment, the two men looked at each other, and there was a palpable tension between them that Nancy had not seen before.
It was a moment before Mac spoke and when he did,
it was with caution. ‘I’ll make sure she comes to no harm,’ he told Don. ‘You have my word on that.’
‘You make sure you keep it!’ Don warned. ‘We’ll come up regularly, to make sure everything is all right.’
‘And you’ll be very welcome.’ Mac turned to go back to the car. Time was getting on and he wanted to be back in Lytham as soon as possible.
Both Don and Nancy waved to Sammie as the car
drove off, with Sammie calling out, ‘I’ll be okay, Mum … I’ll telephone you!’ before winding up the window.
‘We’ll be waiting for your call!’ Don shouted, and Sammie waved until she could not see them any more.
‘I’m glad you two made friends before she left,’ Don remarked as they went back inside. ‘I don’t like to see you at each other’s throats.’
Calmer now, Nancy laughed a little sadly. It
was an emotional moment for her, seeing her daughter leave home. Things would never be quite the same again. ‘You’ll be disappointed if you think we’ll never argue again,’ she said, chokily. ‘Didn’t you know … Sammie and I were born to torment each other.’
When Nancy disappeared into the kitchen, Don stood before the window, watching the tail end of the car as it turned the corner. ‘Don’t think
I don’t know what you’re up to,’ he muttered as the car went from sight. ‘Don’t underestimate me, Mac. I’m nobody’s fool!’
Having cleared the breakfast things from the kitchen, Nancy went to her bedroom, where she was like a cat on hot bricks. First she was looking out the window, then she was sitting on the bed, and now she was pacing back and forth across the carpet.
Going to the dressing-table,
she sat on the stool and observed herself in the mirror, noticing how the fine lines on her face had deepened into the beginning of wrinkles. ‘You’re looking your age,’ she muttered sadly. ‘One day, when you’re old and ugly, the things you should have done and never did, will come back to haunt you.’
She sat there for what seemed an age, before returning downstairs. Don was in the garden, gently
swinging back and forth on the tree-swing, smoking his pipe, and absent-mindedly throwing an old ball around for Lottie.
Hesitating for just a moment, Nancy went across and sat beside him. ‘Sammie will be all right, won’t she, Dad?’
He put his arm round her, ‘We all know she can be stubborn
as a mule … much like yourself.’ He drew her close, ‘… but deep down she’s a sensible girl.’
For a time,
father and daughter sat together, gently swinging back and forth, deep in thought, until Nancy spoke. ‘It’s so hard, seeing Sammie going away like that. It seems like only yesterday she was just a little girl at school.’
‘I know.’ He understood. ‘But life goes on, as they say.’
‘Dad?’
‘Yes, love?’
‘I know I can be difficult at times,’ she confided. ‘I’m bad-tempered and argumentative, and
I hate myself for it, but I love you all, I really do. I just couldn’t bear it if this family fell apart.’
‘Now you’re being silly. In fact, if only to put your mind at rest, I was thinking maybe we should all go and see Sammie this coming weekend. Make sure she’s settled in okay.’ His voice stiffened. ‘We need to satisfy ourselves that she’s being taken good care of.’
Surprisingly, and because
she wanted Sammie to see that she really was trying, Nancy disagreed. ‘Best not. It would only aggravate her. She would think we can’t trust her.’
‘Mm. Maybe you’re right. I’ll go along with whatever you say.’ Don grinned. ‘On this occasion anyway.’
There was a long pause before Nancy spoke again. ‘Do you think we’re being punished?’
Putting his feet to the ground, Don promptly stopped the
swing. ‘Punished? Whatever for?’
‘For Judy,’ she replied in a low voice. ‘For doing what we did to her.’
Don became very agitated. ‘We did nothing to her!’ Knocking his pipe out on the arm of the swing, he reminded Nancy, ‘You know as well as I do, the lass brought it on herself. She ended up in the family way, when she was little more than a child. We loved her and took care of her, and that
was how she repaid us.’
He remembered it as if it was yesterday; it still hurt. ‘There was a time when I convinced myself that it wasn’t altogether her fault, much like you are doing now. I blamed everyone but her. I even blamed myself for not being a proper father. I went looking for her – spent weeks wandering around, until I gave up.’
He shuddered. ‘What I saw that night in Bedford recently
shocked me to my roots. I knew then that she must have badness in her; that whatever we did, she would have gone wrong anyway. I saw the devil in her that night. It made me realise she was beyond saving! I could not believe what she’d made of herself – little more
than a woman of the streets, she was. Drunk out of her mind, and fighting like an alley-cat with some man.’
He let slip something
he had not divulged up until now. ‘You never knew it, but I went back again, hoping I might have been too quick in jumping to conclusions; that maybe it wasn’t Judy I saw after all. Maybe there was a riotous party, and she just got caught up with the revellers.’
His voice was almost inaudible, as though he was talking to himself. ‘I saw that same man she had been with, and I followed him to Jackson
Street. Judy was there. I saw him go inside. I watched them through the window. The light was on and the curtains were open. Almost as soon as he got through the door they were arguing. The man was shouting and bawling … it was bedlam! He hit her, and then she gave herself to him. It was disgraceful. I couldn’t stay. I was sick to my stomach.’
He shook his head as though in disbelief. ‘I never
went back.’ His face hardened. ‘That woman was not my daughter. She was not the Judy we knew. She was bold and cheap. A stranger to me.’