A Daughter's Duty (31 page)

‘I’m sorry, it isn’t,’ Kate collected herself to say. Short and to the point, she thought.

‘Oh? But I understood this was where she lived.’ The young man looked at a loss for a moment. Kate was about to close the door in his face, for after all it was Saturday and she was getting ready to go through to Easington to visit Marina and Brian, wasn’t she? A happy feeling ran through her, a rare thing for her these days.

‘An’ who might you be then?’ she asked instead of putting him straight as to the whereabouts of her daughter.

‘Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Dr Morris, Robert Morris. I came here in the hope of having a word with … your daughter, is it?’

Kate shivered. The cold was seeping into the house and she had banked down the fire in preparation for going out. She opened the door wider.

‘You’d better come in for a minute, Doctor,’ she said. Though there was still a touch of impatience in her voice, she had an inherent respect for medical men. ‘There’s a gale blowing through here with this dratted door open.’

‘Thank you.’ He followed her into the kitchen-cum-living room and sat down in the chair she indicated.

Sitting down opposite him Kate gazed squarely into his face. ‘Now then, I haven’t much time, I’ve a bus to catch,’ she declared.

Bob cleared his throat. ‘I’d like to have a word with your daughter,’ he said. The woman, Mrs Morland he presumed, said nothing, simply gazed at him then glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘I … about her friend, Rose Sharpe.’

‘Rose Sharpe? It’s no good asking our Marina where that girl is. She took off, you know. Rose went over to her aunt’s place in Shotton then took off. For London, I believe.’

Then they
did
know Rose, Bob thought to himself. He was going to get to the bottom of the mystery at last.

‘London?’

‘Yes. Our Marina had a postcard from her a while ago. Not a word since so far as I know.’

‘When exactly did your daughter receive this card, Mrs Morland, can you remember?’

‘Oh, man, it was months ago.’ Kate got to her feet and pointedly put on her gloves. ‘Now I have to go. Sorry, but I told you I was on my way out.’

Bob stood too and gave what he hoped was a winning smile. ‘Will you give me your daughter’s address, Mrs Morland? I really do have a good reason for wanting to talk to her about Rose Sharpe.’

‘I told you, I haven’t time,’ she replied as she walked to the door. ‘Anyroad, why do you want it?’

‘Well, it’s confidential, you know. I am a doctor …’

‘She lives on the coast, Easington Colliery. I’m just off there now.’ Kate gave in. If she didn’t go now she really would miss the bus. By this time they were out of the house and she had locked the door and set off down the yard.

‘She does? Oh, I’m going over that way myself, can I give you a lift?’

Kate’s attitude changed immediately. ‘Are you sure? I wouldn’t be taking you out of your way?’ She was beaming as she reached the gate. There were one or two women about, all of them casting curious glances at the Rover drawn up close to the gate in the narrow back street.

‘I’m going to Hartlepool at least. I can easily make a small detour and take you to Easington Colliery,’ said Bob and his smile showed amused understanding.

‘Morning, Jessie,’ said Kate to her nosy-parker neighbour who was standing there with a couple of friends, ‘having a natter’ as she would call it. Gossiping about folk more like! Bob opened the door for Kate with a flourish. ‘Just off to see our Marina and her man.’ She settled herself on the leather seat – real leather, she could tell good stuff when she saw it – and as they departed waved casually to the open-mouthed women.

As they drove along the ends of the rows they had to pause then overtake the bus standing at the stop. Just getting in was Alf Sharpe.

‘That was Rose’s father there,’ commented Kate.

‘Where?’ Bob slowed and looked about him.

‘Oh, he’s gone now,’ she said hastily. She definitely didn’t want to waste time talking to Alf Sharpe. Bob picked up speed.

Now he knew where he could find Rose’s father he could always come back if he needed to. But he remembered Rose’s attitude towards her father. She wouldn’t like it if he did contact the older man. No, any enquiries he made in that direction would have to be discreet.

‘Mrs Morland, come on in,’ said Jeff as he opened the door to Kate. He looked at the man behind her, a young man who looked familiar somehow.

‘Hallo, Jeff. By, it’s parky this morning. That wind’s enough to take your ears off,’ said Kate by way of greeting. ‘This is Dr Morris, he wants to talk to our Marina,’ she added, nodding over her shoulder and walking on down the passage leaving the others to follow.

‘Mam! You’re early. I wasn’t expecting you yet,’ Marina exclaimed. She was in the kitchen, her face flushed, her brown hair in wisps about her forehead. She had an apron tied around her waist and there was a smell of baking scones heavy on the air.

‘Just as well I am early then. If you leave those scones in the oven much longer they’ll burn,’ said Kate. Still in her coat and hat she whipped a cloth off the line and opened the oven door. ‘Done to a turn. You’re improving, pet,’ she went on as she took out the tray and tipped the scones on to a wire rack on the kitchen table.

‘Marina, there’s someone here to see you,’ said Jeff, ushering in Bob. ‘Dr Morris did you say your name was?’

‘That’s right. You’re Marina Morland?’ Bob held out his hand to Marina and, looking surprised, she took it. ‘I wonder, can we go somewhere where we can talk?’

‘Use the sitting room, I’m off now,’ suggested Jeff. He was wearing a Sunderland supporters’ scarf, red and white with a touch of black, and everyone supposed he was going to the match early. In reality he was earlier than he had intended to be for his expedition but it was nowhere near Roker Park or anywhere else in Sunderland he planned to go.

It was cold in the sitting room for the fire wasn’t normally lit except on high days and holidays but Marina switched on a tiny two-barred electric fire. They sat opposite each other, Bob thinking she looked a nice, ordinary girl, obviously newly married, and Marina completely baffled as to what this good-looking young doctor wanted with her. Had she seen him before? She waited for him to explain what he wanted, thinking that if he didn’t hurry up her mother would come bursting in asking did he want tea or something, but in reality because she couldn’t contain her curiosity.

‘I am making enquiries about Rose Sharpe,’ he began, and light dawned for Marina.

‘Oh, yes, you were one of the doctors talking about her the other night, weren’t you? In the hospital, I mean,’ Marina said eagerly. ‘Do you know where she is?’ She frowned as an alarming thought occurred to her. ‘She’s all right, isn’t she? Nothing’s happened to her? Or the baby –’

‘You do know her? And you knew about the baby?’

‘Yes, of course, she’s my best friend.’

‘And yet you don’t know where she is now?’

‘She went to London,’ said Marina, on the defensive against the implied criticism. ‘Oh, please, tell me, is she all right?’

‘She is now. She lost the baby.’

‘Oh, thank God!’ Marina gasped and meant about the baby too, Bob could have sworn. ‘Where is she?’

‘She’s in Hartlepool.’

Marina jumped to her feet and ran to the door and out on to the street. ‘Jeff! Jeff!’ he heard her calling. ‘Rose is all right! She’s in –’ But her voice trailed away and after a moment she came back into the sitting room and sat down. ‘He’s already gone,’ she said. ‘But Hartlepool … I can’t believe she’s that close. Tell me about her, please. Did she speak to you about me?’

‘She gave your name as next of kin.’ Bob had to be careful now, felt he couldn’t give away anything that Rose wanted kept a secret, but she had given Marina’s name, hadn’t she? In the end he told her about Rose and her coming into the hospital, about her attack of pneumonia and how ill she’d been. And how she seemed to be terrified of her father and her aunt, worried for her small brother and sister. And Marina in her turn told him about Alf. All about Alf. It was such a relief to say it to someone.

‘You won’t repeat this to anyone, will you?’ she asked anxiously when she’d finished, half wishing she hadn’t said anything about it all but there was something about this young doctor that made you want to confide in him. There was something so honest and trustworthy about him.

‘No, not while Rose doesn’t want anyone to know, I won’t,’ he said, and his voice sounded amazingly normal in his own ears for inside he was blazingly angry, truly blazing. There was such a fire of rage within him that it threatened to consume him altogether. He couldn’t sit still. He got to his feet and walked over to the window, looking out on to the street and the row of houses directly opposite, all exactly the same with their white-stoned steps and gleaming windows shielded by dolly-dyed net curtains. And by the side of each front door a slate in the wall for the lady of the house to chalk the number of bottles that were needed from the milkman.

Of course the slate had originally been for the knocker-up to know which houses need a rap on the window for fore shift but now in the time of alarm clocks … Bloody hell! That poor girl, his poor darling. Damn and blast the man to hell and eternal damnation!

Bob fought to control his emotions in the way he had used ever since he’d first been confronted with the misery and human agony he encountered in his work: by thinking of mundane things. And usually he was fairly successful, but not today, not when it was his Rose. Oh, dear God, no. He remembered with heartaching clarity her face when she was brought into the hospital the first time, how her poor bruised body was so lifeless, so cold, after lying out in that dene for so long in the icy early morning dew. How he and the nurses had worked over her, trying to bring life back to the poor young thing. And had succeeded at last. When she had opened her eyes the fear lurking in their depths had struck him like a blow. All he had wanted to do was gather her to him, keep her safe from the world, from whoever or whatever it was that had brought her to this state.

And then the second time. Dear God …

‘Dr Morris?’

He turned from his unseeing survey of the row of houses opposite to the young girl, Rose’s friend. ‘I’m sorry.’ He went back to his seat and sat down, even smiled at Marina.

‘I’ll come to see her. That will be all right, won’t it, Doctor?’

‘I’m sure it will. She needs a friend, it will do her good,’ he said. Heavens, he was repeating phrases he used about any and all of his patients.

‘No one else knows what I’ve told you, Doctor,’ Marina said, anxiety returning. ‘Not my family, not a soul, not even Jeff. Oh, they know her dad was rotten to her, mean and violent at times, but they don’t know about … about …’ She could not quite say it, not again, it had been difficult enough the first time. But, looking up at Bob, she saw him nodding in understanding.

Jeff must be Marina’s husband, he surmised, that young fellow who had hurried off to the football. They hadn’t been introduced. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t mention it to anyone, I told you.’

‘She’s left the hospital, you say? Do you have her address?’ Bob took out his notebook, wrote the address on it and tore off the page. Then he got to his feet. He had to get out in the open air, would take the car up to the moors and get out and walk and walk until the fresh, clean air blew away some of the filth he felt he was steeped in.

‘Thank you, Marina,’ he said, holding out his hand to her, ‘for being so straight with me. You will go to see her, won’t you? On your own. I must stress that I don’t think she could face –’

‘On my own, Doctor.’

He nodded, satisfied, and they were going towards the door when Kate knocked and put her head round. ‘You’ll have a cup of tea, Doctor?’ she asked, face alive with curiosity.

Drat the woman! he thought, he couldn’t wait to go out. But Marina butted in smoothly, ‘The doctor is just off, Mam. He has to get back.’

Bob hardly knew whether he mouthed the usual platitudes on leaving or not. His one thought was to get out on to the open road and vent his rage and love and great burden of pity for poor, damaged Rose out of sight of his fellow men.

‘Well? What did he want?’ Kate asked after the door had closed on Dr Morris and they had the house to themselves, at least until Brian came in. ‘Has something happened to Rose? Where is she?’

‘I don’t know, Mam,’ said Marina, feeling the piece of paper in her skirt pocket and lying in her teeth. ‘He thought we might know, he’d met her ages ago.’

Kate glared at her daughter. She knew full well that this wasn’t the truth. What fellow would come searching for a girl he’d met ages ago and hadn’t bothered to keep in touch with since? ‘By, our Marina! The day was when you used to tell me everything, we were that close,’ was all she said, however, her voice full of hurt.

Marina decided it was time to change the subject. ‘Come on, Mam,’ she said. ‘Brian will be in soon and we’re all going to see the new house. Eeh, Mam, it’s grand, and there’s a lovely room for you. You’ll think it’s great, I know you will.’

And Kate was instantly diverted. This was what she had been looking forward to ever since Brian and Marina were married.

Jeff drove to Shotton Colliery, his thoughts so full of Rose he could think of nothing else. She wasn’t in London, of course she wasn’t, that had been a red herring. He had known it at the time. She would have written to him if so. No, something had happened to her, she was in trouble, he was sure of it. Felt it in his very bones.

But that woman in Shotton, her aunt, she must know where Rose was. She
must.
She was Alf’s sister, wasn’t she? Of the same blood, touched with the same rotten nature? Of course she was. Well, he was going to find out about Rose. He’d had all he was going to take of not knowing, this time he was determined to find her.

Jeff drove along Front Street then pulled into a side street. He would walk from here, he thought, calm himself. He had been letting his thoughts run riot and that was no good. He had to do this right if he was to find out anything at all. Getting out of the car, he turned back into Front Street, looking about him, fixing in his mind the direction to the house he wanted.