Anne Bennett 3-Book Collection: A Sister’s Promise, A Daughter’s Secret, A Mother’s Spirit. Anne Bennett
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about. He took it out, opened it and stuffed all the notes and coins into his pocket before going out of the door, locking it behind him.
Will was still walking the streets, too churned up to return home, and when he saw Ray coming towards him from the direction of Collingsworth’s flat he wondered if Ray had killed the girl already. He had to know, and so though he would far rather have spread Ray’s length on the cobbles, he greeted him.
‘You still about?’ Ray said.
‘Yeah, but I’m off home now,’ Will answered, struggling to keep the disgust for the man from his voice. ‘Where you making for?’
‘Back to my own flat for a bit of a kip,’ Ray said. He had no idea that Will had listened in to the conversation he’d had with Collingsworth and yet he knew that it had been the chauffeur who had found the man at the bottom of the stairs because Collingsworth himself had told him that much, so he said now, ‘Bet you would like to know what it was all about, that shindig?’
Will shrugged. ‘If you like,’ he said, and added with a grim smile, ‘I have found Mr Collingsworth in many strange places, but that was about the most weird and, of course, being stark naked as well put the tin hat on it, as it were.’
‘Was he naked as well?’ Ray said incredulously. ‘Christ, he dain’t tell me that.’
‘I bet he didn’t,’ Will commented. ‘Well, what was it all about?’
He listened to the potted version of events that Ray fed him, but he made no mention of getting rid of the girl. What he did say, though, was, ‘Course, I was bloody mad, furious. I mean, what did she think she was there for? I gave her a good smacking, though Collingsworth had made a bloody mess of her first anyway. I knocked her clean out in the end and now I have locked her in the bedroom to stew. After I have grabbed a bit of shut-eye, I will have to run Charlie to ground because there is a little job I want him to do with me.’
Will knew exactly what that job was, and he felt sick. He couldn’t stand the man’s company any longer. ‘I’m away.’ he said. ‘I am bushed and chilled to the marrow.’
He swung away from Ray as he spoke. He knew he would have to walk home, for there were no trams running at that time of night, but it wouldn’t be the first time he had the long tramp home after a day’s work. Anyway, that night he almost felt glad of it, and hoped that by the time he reached home his mind would have stopped its leaping about and allow him to sleep.
His house was in darkness and he was glad of it as he tiptoed up the stairs. In the light from the landing he surveyed his sleeping wife, with her cheeks flushed pink and her brown hair spread out on the pillow, noting how sleep made her look so very vulnerable. As he slipped in beside her he thought of that young girl, just as vulnerable, who was unaware what was being planned for her and felt his whole body recoil in distaste.
He faced the fact that he wasn’t totally innocent either and it was no good pretending he was. Though he hadn’t known when he began working for Collingsworth, he was soon aware that Ray would pick up runaways at bus and train stations and then sell them on to the knocking shop, after keeping them at the flat, doping them up with the white powders and gin till they were so addicted to the stuff they would do what they were told, because if they didn’t their supplies were withheld.
He had never seen the girls concerned and had always told himself that it was none of his business. Now he listened to his wife’s even and untroubled breathing and, though his eyes were gritty with tiredness, he was far too emotionally charged to sleep. He knew that not far away this dreadful thing was going to take place and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Will turned off the alarm before it rang, because he had been just lying awake anyway.
Betty opened her eyes sleepily as he was dressing by the light of the lamp and said, ‘You look awful.’
‘Thanks,’ Will said with a sardonic smile. ‘I love you too.’
Betty sat up in the bed, awkwardly, because of her bulging stomach, and supported herself on one elbow as she scrutinised her husband. ‘I mean it, Will, really,’ she said. ‘Your eyes are all bloodshot and you have grey bags underneath them.’
‘Don’t worry. I didn’t sleep too well, that’s all. I had things on my mind.’
‘I’ll say you did. You tossed and turned so much you kept waking me up.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Will said. ‘Why don’t you snuggle down now? Get the sleep in while you can.’
Betty ignored that and commented instead, ‘You were in powerfully late last night.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘Doesn’t that man think that you have a life of your own?’
‘You know what the rich are like as well as I do,’ Will said. ‘Never a thought in their head for the people that work for them.’
‘Yeah, well, I think it is a bit much expecting you to go in so early this morning when you were so late last night. I mean, it’s barely six o’clock.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll live,’ Will said, anxious to reassure his wife and be on his way. ‘And the wages are good, you have to admit. We are going to need every penny before too long, as you well know. Now, do you want me to make you a cup of tea before I go, or are you going to grab a bit of shut-eye?’
‘Hmm, I know one thing, Will Baker, and that is that you are a dab hand at changing the subject when it suits you,’ Betty said.
‘Tea or not, then?’
‘No,’ Betty said. ‘I will give it a miss. I’ll likely be asleep again before it’s cool enough to drink.’
‘Come on, then,’ Will said solicitously. ‘Snuggle down and I’ll tuck you in and you’ll be as snug as a bug in a rug.’
With a sigh and a smile, Betty did as Will bade her.
As he gazed at her lovely, dark brown eyes, he felt his heart turn over with love for his young wife, carrying their much-wanted child. He would die if anything happened to her. Maybe that young girl, about to end her life by Ray’s hand, had been loved by someone too once upon a time, in an earlier and less depraved life.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Betty asked in sudden alarm, seeing the discomfort Will was feeling flood over his face.
‘Nothing,’ Will said. ‘What could be wrong?’ He kissed his wife gently on the lips and went on, ‘Come on now. I have to be on my way and you have to look after my son and heir, so that he is born fine and healthy.’
Betty said no more but she knew that something was troubling her husband. She could read him like a book. Worry lurked behind his soft grey eyes, furrowed his brow and brought a tight look to his ashen face. She heard him moving about in the kitchen, the pop of the gas as he put the kettle on and the rattle of crockery as he got some breakfast for himself. He didn’t take long over it, and only a few minutes later she heard him go out and she knew he would be making for the tram. She snuggled down in the bed, closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but she was so tormented about what could be wrong with Will that it drove all drowsiness away. In the end she gave a sigh, got to her feet wearily and, shivering with cold, began to dress quickly.
Collingsworth had taken to his bed on doctor’s orders and wouldn’t be needing the services of a chauffeur that day at least, Will was told at his employer’s door. He stood in the road outside, knowing he could just go home now and pretend he knew nothing. Betty would be glad to see him – he had little enough free time to spend with her – and by tomorrow it would all be over and things could go on as they always had.
On the other hand, could he just ignore what he had overheard and which he knew to be true?