A Cuckoo in Candle Lane (19 page)

‘Please, Sally, you can’t just rush off without an explanation!’

Sally floundered. She couldn’t tell him the truth and somehow she had to stop him coming home with her. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, John. It’s just a woman’s thing,’ she lied, feeling her face flooding with colour. ‘Now I really must go. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she called, running off and praying that he didn’t pursue her.

‘Mum, Gran,’ she gasped, rushing into the kitchen. ‘Quick, we’ve got to go to Auntie Mary’s house. Something’s dreadfully wrong.’

Three pairs of eyes stared at her, mouths agape, but it was Sadie who spoke first, her voice sharp with concern. ‘Oh Sally, has something happened to my Mary?’

‘I don’t know, Gran. But please, we’ve got to hurry.’

‘Hold on, my girl,’ Ruth snapped. ‘How do you know something’s wrong? Who told you?’

‘Nobody told me, Mum. It’s just a feeling, but it’s very strong.’

‘Sally, what are you talking about? You’re not making any sense.’

How could she explain? How could she make them understand? she thought desperately. ‘Look, it’s more than just a feeling. When I was in church something happened. I heard a voice whispering in my head, urging me to go to Aunt Mary’s.’

Elsie jumped up, scurrying to the back door. ‘That’s good enough for me. I’ll go and rouse Bert, he can drive you there.’

‘Thanks, Elsie,’ she said gratefully. ‘Come on, Mum, get your shoes on, there’s no time to lose.’

‘No, Sally. I ain’t going to your aunt’s, and neither are you!’

‘For goodness sake, Mum. What if I’m right? What if something terrible has happened and you refused to help. How will you live with that?’ she asked impatiently.

Sally recoiled as her mum’s face suffused with hatred. Ruth reared up, hands flat on the table, and leaning forward with her chin thrust out aggressively, she yelled, ‘What if that sod Harry’s there – ’ave you thought of that?’

‘What do you think he can do, Mum? I’m a grown woman now and I can look after myself,’ Sally said quietly, trying to defuse her anger and seeing Sadie struggling into her coat, she added, ‘Look, we must go with Gran. How can we leave her to deal with this on her own?’

‘All right,’ Ruth capitulated. ‘But this had better not be a wild-goose chase, my girl.’

Elsie bustled in again, puffing with exertion. ‘Right, are you all ready? Arthur has just come in and he’s taking you in his car.’

‘I didn’t know he had a car!’ Sally exclaimed.

‘He only got it yesterday,’ Elsie told her. ‘Now come on, he’s waiting outside.’

Sally was ushered into the front seat, while Ruth and Sadie crawled into the back. Elsie waved them off, urging her son to drive carefully, her face creased with anxiety.

Sadie started shouting directions from the back, her voice booming in Arthur’s ear. ‘Turn left here, Arthur, then go along the Northcote Road.’

‘It’s all right, old girl, you don’t have to shout,’ he gently admonished. Then turning to Sally and smiling widely, he asked, ‘What do you think of my car then? It’s a Morris Minor. I got it off Dad’s partner so it’s in really good nick.’

‘It’s lovely,’ she answered distantly as the feelings of foreboding returned, threatening to overpower her mind. ‘Can’t you go any faster, Arthur,’ she pleaded.

The journey seemed to take for ever, but at last they pulled up outside Mary’s house.

Sally was the first to clamber out of the car and she rushed to her aunt’s door, banging loudly on the knocker. ‘There’s no reply,’ she said, turning to the others as they came to stand by her side, ‘but she’s in there. I just know she is.’

Sadie fumbled in her bag, her fingers trembling. ‘Here,’ she said, handing Sally a key. ‘I didn’t give it back to her when I left. I must ’ave known it would come in handy one day.’

Pushing open the door, her nostrils wrinkling at the clinical smells of carbolic and bleach, Sally called, ‘Are you in, Aunt Mary?’

Sadie struggled past her, flinging open the sitting-room door. ‘She’s not in here. Try the kitchen,’ she shouted.

Ruth rushed down the hall and called, ‘No, she’s not in here either.’

It was Sally who was first up the stairs, her fear leading her straight to her aunt’s bedroom. ‘Mum, Mum, quick! Up here!’ she cried.

She barely recognised her aunt. Mary’s face was gaunt and chalky white, while her body, lying sprawled across the covers, looked almost skeletal.

Sadie, limping into the room behind Ruth, immediately took charge. ‘Arthur, quick, go and get me a glass of water with plenty of salt in it.’

‘What’s wrong with her, Mum?’ Ruth asked, her voice quavering.

‘It’s bleedin’ obvious ain’t it. Look, what do you think that is?’ Sadie shouted in agitation, pointing to the empty pill bottle lying on the floor.

‘Oh, God,’ Ruth whispered.

Arthur came in, a glass in his hand, filled to the brim and murky with salt.

‘Thanks, love,’ Sadie said. ‘Now help me to sit her up. We’ve got to make her drink this; it should make her sick. Sally, you go and get a bucket.’

Sally rushed downstairs, scrambling around in the kitchen until she found what she was looking for.

When she returned, they had her aunt sitting up and were forcing the liquid down her throat. She saw Mary choke, then heave, and rushed over with the bucket, nausea rising in her own throat at the sight of her aunt being violently sick.

‘That’s it,’ Sadie crooned. ‘Get it all up, darlin’.’

‘Christ, Mum, how did you know what to do?’ Ruth asked, her face pale.

‘It’s not the first time I’ve had to deal with this. I had a neighbour during the war who lost both sons and …’ She shook her head. ‘This ain’t the time to talk about it. Come on, we’ve got to get Mary walking. Help me to stand her up.’

They took it in turns to support her, walking round and round the room. Sally could see that her gran was near to exhaustion and begged her to rest.

At last her aunt appeared to revive a little and they sat her on the bed. ‘Leave me alone,’ she slurred, trying to lie down again.

‘No, Mary. Come on, sit up,’ Sadie urged, shaking her by the shoulders and asking, ‘Where’s Harry?’

‘Gone … he’s gone,’ she mumbled.

Sadie turned to Ruth, her face etched with worry. ‘Look, you can see that she can’t be left on her own. Can we take her home with us?’

Sally watched her mum chewing on her lower lip as she stared at her sister. ‘We ain’t got much choice, ’ave we?’ she said at last.

Arthur had to make two journeys; his car was too small to hold them all. Sally had offered to make her own way home, but he insisted on coming back for her.

It was strange sitting beside him in the car, watching his hands as they changed from wheel to gearstick so competently. She was finding conversation difficult and felt the atmosphere was strained, but Arthur didn’t seem to notice. He gave her a quick glance, saying, ‘It was touch and go there for a while, wasn’t it, Sally? Your aunt must have been in a right old state to try something like that.’

‘Yes, you’re right, but thank God my gran knew what to do.’

‘Well, making her swallow salty water certainly did the trick.’

‘I just hope she’s going to be all right,’ Sally said worriedly.

‘I’m sure she’s over the worst now,’ Arthur said reassuringly as he manoeuvred the car through some heavy traffic. ‘How’s your boyfriend?’ he asked, changing the subject abruptly. ‘Still courting strong, are you?’

‘He’s fine, and yes, we’re still going out together.’

The traffic-lights ahead changed to red, and pulling up he turned to face her. ‘Do you think it’s going to be a long-term relationship, Sally?’

‘I hope so,’ she told him, smiling softly.

‘I see,’ he said. Then with a deep sigh, he added, ‘I’m thinking of asking Jenny to marry me.’

‘Oh Arthur, how wonderful,’ she enthused, yet puzzled by the slight pang she felt.

‘You don’t mind then?’ he asked, as the lights turned to green.

‘No, of course not,’ she told him, surprised by the question.

They turned off the main road then, the traffic thinning as they drove down Long Street. ‘Nearly there,’ he mumbled.

‘Thanks for all you’ve done, Arthur. We couldn’t have managed without you.’

‘Glad to help,’ he said as they drew up outside her door. ‘Will you let me know how your aunt is, Sally?’

‘I’ll do that, Arthur,’ she answered. ‘And thanks again. I’ll pop round later and if you’re not in, I’ll leave a message.’

He flashed her a smile and Sally realised for the first time how good-looking he was. She forced her eyes away from his, and fumbling with the door handle, scrambled out of the car.

Perhaps it was something he saw in her expression, she wasn’t sure, but her face flamed as Arthur walked to her side. ‘You know don’t you, Sally, that Jenny is my second choice,’ he said, his pupils darkening as he gazed earnestly at her.

Sally reeled back, her stomach tightening. It was that look in his eyes again, a look that repelled her. ‘Don’t be silly, Arthur,’ she gasped, turning away from him and rushing indoors.

Hurrying into the kitchen, and forcing Arthur from her mind, Sally asked, ‘How is she, Mum?’

‘Still groggy. We’ve put her to bed in my room and yer gran’s sitting with her.’

‘Why do you think she did it?’

‘I dunno, Sal. It may be because Harry’s buggered off and left her. But somehow I think there’s more to it than that. Perhaps yer gran can get her talking.’

‘If anyone can it’ll be Gran. Thank goodness we got there in time.’

‘Yes, and that’s due to you. I don’t know how you do it, Sally. You spoke about a voice in yer head. What does it sound like?’

‘I can’t describe it, Mum. It’s a sort of urgent whisper that becomes more compelling if I try to ignore it.’

‘Doesn’t it frighten you, Sally?’

‘No, I’ve never been scared. But that doesn’t make it right. I don’t want it to happen any more. It’s wrong – very wrong.’

‘I don’t understand how you can say that. Whatever happened to you in church, I thank God for it. It saved my sister’s life.’

‘Mum, can you manage without me for a while? I want to go next door to see Ann,’ Sally said, not wanting to carry on with this conversation.

‘Yeah, of course. I’ll give you a knock on the wall when tea’s ready.’

‘Is Ann in, Elsie?’ Sally asked, popping her head around the back door.

‘Yes, she’s in her room, go on up. Oh, wait a minute, Sally. Arthur told me what happened. How’s your auntie? Is she going to be all right?’

‘Yes, I think so. We got there just in time.’

‘Well done, Sally. Your powers must still be developing, and according to the cards you should reach your full potential by the time you’re eighteen.’

She felt the blood rush to her face. ‘But I don’t want them, Elsie. I just want to be normal!’ she cried, rushing upstairs.

‘What’s wrong?’ Ann asked, as she entered her room.

‘Oh, everything. I hate being psychic,’ Sally answered, flopping down onto the bed beside her friend. ‘Why me? Why do I have to be different? And I’m dreading seeing John. I lied to him, Ann. He thinks I left church because I was ill.’

‘Can’t you just tell him the truth? After all, it sounds like you saved your aunt’s life.’

‘No, he says it’s wrong to use psychic powers.’

‘But why do you believe everything John tells you? What about my mum? Are you saying she shouldn’t read palms or use the Tarot cards?’

‘Well, yes I am. You see, John said she’s misguided, and doesn’t realise that she’s being misled by the devil.’

Ann reared up, her eyes blazing with indignation. ‘How dare you say that! Who are you to pass judgement on my mum? My God, you’ve changed into a sanctimonious little bitch. All I hear now is “John says this, John says that”. He’s brainwashed you and you’re too besotted to see it.’

‘That’s not true,’ Sally retorted, jumping off the bed. ‘I’m not listening to any more of this. I’m going home.’

‘Good,’ Ann snapped. ‘My mum’s a wonderful woman and you seem to have forgotten how good she’s been to you, and your family. Now go on – clear off – and in future stay out of my way!’

Sally ran downstairs and through the kitchen, ignoring Elsie’s shout as she yanked open the back door, her emotions a turmoil of anger and misery.

‘Wait!’ her mum called as she rushed indoors, bolting for the stairs. ‘Come back here, Sally.’

‘Just leave me alone,’ she sobbed.

Slamming her bedroom door she sprawled across the bed, going over and over her confrontation with Ann. I didn’t mean it the way it came out, she thought. I didn’t mean that Elsie’s a bad person. She closed her eyes, hating herself for what she’d said. Oh, what am I going to do? she fretted. Surely I haven’t lost Ann’s friendship!

If only they understood. When John explained why she shouldn’t use psychic powers, it all made perfect sense, especially when she told him about Mr Cox. As John said, she hadn’t been able to save him and had just given his wife false hope, making his death harder to bear. Ever since he’d said that she had been wracked with guilt, realising that she must never use her healing powers again. John said that what happened in life was God’s will, and she had no right to change it. She felt her eyes filling with tears and prayed that God would forgive her for what she had done.