Blue Moon (20 page)

‘How long had you known the deceased?’

‘We’d been married for twenty years,’ said Bea. ‘Since 1913.’

‘Would you say your husband was a competent fisherman?’

‘He had been a fisherman all his life,’ said Bea. ‘He and his father and grandfather before him. My husband’s family have fished in Worthing for a hundred and fifty
years.’ She went on to tell the court that, during the Great War, Nelson had served with the Northumberland Fusiliers and had been in action at Ypres, most notably at Bellewaarde Ridge. Ruby heard a couple of people behind her audibly drawing breath as her mother went on, ‘My husband was wounded in 1915. And after a period of recuperation, he returned to the regiment – or what was left of it – but in a non-fighting capacity for the rest of the war.’

A hush had fallen over the courtroom. Ruby hadn’t known any of that.

The coroner cleared his throat. ‘Would you say that Mr Bateman understood the perils of the sea?’

‘He had a great respect for the sea,’ said Bea. ‘He never took risks.’

‘Was the deceased sober when you last saw him?’

Bea pressed her handkerchief to her nose. ‘Nelson was teetotal.’

Ruby was asked the same sort of questions. All went well until the coroner said, ‘What was your father’s mental state? Was he upset about anything, when he set off that night?’

The question left Ruby stunned. What could she say? She’d promised to tell the truth, but if she told them what really happened, it wouldn’t look good. Her father had been really angry with Percy – in fact he’d all but chucked him out of the house. Feelings had been running very high, but between Father and Percy that was normal. She couldn’t help remembering that the coxswain had hinted at suicide. What if the coroner decided that
her father had been so upset that night that he’d done a dreadful thing? How would they live with it?

‘Miss Bateman,’ the coroner broke into her jumbled thoughts, ‘was there something different about your father’s demeanour as he set out that night?’

‘Yes,’ she said softly. She lowered her head and stared at her hands. She had to tell him; she had no choice. ‘My brother had told him he didn’t want to be a fisherman any more, so they’d argued.’ She glanced up at her mother. Bea stared back, expressionless.

‘Did the argument become violent?’

‘No!’ cried Ruby. ‘Absolutely not.’ It could so easily have done so, but she didn’t mention that. Thank God Percy had told Father not to hit him ever again. If she’d had to tell the court they’d come to blows, it would have looked really, really bad.

‘And what was the consequence of that argument?’

‘My brother packed his bags and left home that night.’

‘Is it possible that, when he was out in that boat, your father could have been distracted by the fact that your brother no longer wanted to follow in his footsteps?’

‘My father knew how Percy felt, long before that night.’ She wanted to say,
My father never held grudges
, but that wasn’t true, and any number of the fishermen along the coast would have testified that she was lying. ‘I suppose it’s possible he could have been thinking about Percy,’ she began again, choosing her words carefully, ‘but he wasn’t the sort of man to let anything else bother him, once he was in that boat.’

‘Did your brother go out with him that night?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Thank you, Miss Bateman,’ the coroner smiled.

The next person to give evidence was Silas Reed, a Worthing fisherman, and the one who had raised the alarm.

‘Percy and Nelson were fishing close by me,’ he said.

‘Miss Bateman has told the court that she didn’t think her brother was fishing that night.’

‘Well, Nelson had someone in the boat,’ said Silas, clearly flummoxed. ‘My eyesight may not be what it once was, but I saw someone else standing in that boat. Who else could it be but young Percy?’

Ruby held her breath. Why was he saying all this? Everybody else had said Percy wasn’t on the boat.

‘What was the distance between your two boats?

Silas shrugged. ‘Half a mile? A bit more maybe.’

He went on to describe how, once he’d come ashore, he’d run to the pier and the blue police box to raise the alarm. Young Albert and some of the other men had secured the boat.’

‘Young Albert?’ enquired the coroner.

‘Albert Longman,’ said Silas. ‘He went to Nelson’s house to tell Mrs Bateman, and young Ruby here came to the beach to see for herself.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘Weren’t nothing anybody could do. He were washed ashore later that day.’

Silas stepped down, and the coroner looked up. ‘Is Percy Bateman in court?’

‘No, sir,’ said Bea. ‘We’ve sent for him, but nobody seems to know where he is.’

‘Have the police made enquiries?’ The coroner looked directly at the police inspector, who shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. ‘In view of the question mark hanging over this case, I suggest that the police make this a matter of urgency,’ Dr Fox-Drayton snapped.

Albert was next. It struck Ruby for the first time that they hadn’t seen much of him lately. She hadn’t given him a thought, which was rather unkind, considering how helpful he had been in the beginning. She felt a bit guilty about it. She should have enquired after him.

Albert explained that on the day in question he’d had a problem sleeping and had gone for a walk along the seashore, hoping to see the rise of the dawn over the water. ‘That’s when I saw a boat,’ he went on. ‘It was coming ashore with the tide, and I realized that it was empty.’

The coroner wrote something down. ‘What did you do then, Mr Longman?’

‘I ran down the beach and into the water, to drag it ashore,’ said Albert. ‘The weather had deteriorated and a storm was brewing. I recognized it as the
Saucy Sarah
, Mr Bateman’s boat, but there was no sign of him or his son.’

There was a low murmur around the courtroom, then Albert continued, ‘I shouted for help, and when we’d got it up the beach I ran to the Batemans’ house.’

‘Are you a fisherman, Mr Longman?’

‘Heavens, no,’ said Albert. ‘I did go out with Mr Bateman
and his son once, but that was in my capacity as a newspaper reporter. I was very sick and I hated it.’

There was a titter of laughter in the room.

‘In that case,’ said the coroner, ‘I commend you for your bravery, and I shall take steps to see that you are rewarded with ten pounds from public funds.’

Albert blushed a little and went back to his seat. At the same time the Town Hall clock struck twelve and the coroner adjourned for lunch.

It was too far to go all the way back home, so Albert offered to take Bea and Ruby to Mitchell’s, opposite the library in Chapel Road. Ruby tried to refuse, but her mother had already accepted. It was a popular place at lunchtime, but they were lucky enough to find a vacant window seat. Archie ordered a pot of tea and a round of sandwiches. Ruby declined to eat.

‘Are you all right?’ asked Albert anxiously.

‘I’m fine,’ Ruby smiled. ‘I just can’t face eating, that’s all.’

The waitress bustled away.

‘I’m worried that they’re going to say Nelson did it deliberately,’ said Ruby.

‘But he didn’t,’ said Bea.

‘I know that, and you know that, Mother,’ said Ruby, ‘but the coroner kept on asking about Father’s state of mind.’

‘I don’t think it’s anything to worry about,’ Albert smiled.

The waitress came with their tea and two rounds of egg sandwiches.

As soon as she’d gone Ruby said, ‘I’ve been over and over what happened that morning and I just don’t understand it.’

Albert concentrated on his sandwich while Bea poured the tea.

‘Two heads are better than one,’ Ruby went on. ‘Three is even better. Please help me … please …’

Albert looked up. ‘All right. Fire away.’

She took a deep breath. ‘Father and Percy had a falling-out, but we’re sure Percy didn’t go fishing – agreed, Mother?’

Bea nodded.

‘So who was the person in the boat that Silas saw?’

‘Silas is as blind as a bat,’ said Albert. ‘He imagined it.’

‘Father couldn’t have sailed that boat alone,’ said Ruby. ‘You need more than one person to get the trammel nets out.’

‘Who’s to say he was using the trammel nets?’ Albert asked.

Bea shook her head. ‘Ruby, dear, you have to let this go. Whatever you say, it won’t bring your father back.’

‘Yes, but if someone else was in the boat,’ Ruby began again, ‘it could mean that—’

‘Ruby!’ said Bea sharply. ‘Enough.’

Ruby sipped her tea sulkily and said no more. It didn’t stop her thinking, though. As she nursed her anger, she listened to Bea and Albert making small talk
about the weather and what Bea was going to do next. Before she knew it, it was time to get back to the Town Hall. As her mother went to the toilet, Ruby couldn’t resist tackling Albert one last time.

‘What do you really think happened to my father?’

Albert regarded her steadily. ‘He was alone on that boat,’ he said. ‘Ruby, it was nothing more than a tragic accident.’

Ruby nodded sullenly.

‘By the way,’ said Albert as Bea emerged from the toilets, ‘where is Percy?’

‘We think he’s joined the Blackshirts,’ said Bea. ‘Or at least that’s what Jim Searle believes.’

Albert raised an eyebrow. ‘I wouldn’t take too much notice of what Jim Searle says,’ he said confidentially. ‘You know he’s a Barnardo’s boy.’

Ruby spun around. ‘That’s not very fair,’ she protested angrily. ‘He can’t help that. Anyway, I heard tell that you were put in care when you were a boy.’

‘I was adopted,’ said Albert tetchily.

‘What’s this?’ asked Bea, drawing closer.

Albert put his hands up in mock-surrender. ‘Just be warned, that’s all.’

Ruby turned on her heel and left them.

As soon as proceedings began again, Silas Reed’s son, William, gave evidence.

‘I don’t like to contradict my father, sir,’ he began. ‘He’s a good man, but I was there and there was only one person in that boat.

‘Your father seemed very sure he saw another person,’ the coroner observed.

William seemed slightly embarrassed. ‘My father’s eyesight isn’t what it used to be, sir,’ he said. ‘On his way here, he bumped into a lamp post and apologized.’

The coroner thanked him, and William sat down to the sound of laughter.

Next the court heard how Nelson’s body had been pulled ashore by two Goring fishermen later that day.

‘He had a head-wound,’ said one man. ‘I thought he was dead as soon as I saw him.’

‘Dead as a doornail,’ said the other.

Dr Hare recounted how Nelson had been brought to his surgery and, after a thorough examination, he’d pronounced life extinct at four-fifteen that afternoon. ‘Death was due to drowning,’ he said. ‘The blow to his head probably rendered him unconscious and then he fell into the sea and drowned.’

‘Could the blow have been inflicted by a third party?’ Dr Fox-Drayton asked.

Ruby held her breath. If he said ‘yes’, Percy could be in serious trouble.

‘It’s possible,’ said Dr Hare, ‘but in my opinion it is more likely that he slipped and bumped his head on the side of the boat as he went overboard.’

At a quarter to three the jury members were sent out, only to return about twenty minutes later. They returned a verdict of ‘death by drowning’. In closing, the coroner aimed a few remarks at the police inspector.

‘The jury have exonerated Percy Bateman from all
blame, but it seems to me that he should be found. It must be distressing for his mother that her son does not yet know of his father’s death, so I am calling upon the police force to look for Percy Bateman and make sure he knows what has happened. The verdict of this court is that Nelson Bateman was drowned as the result of an accident.’

With that, he rose to his feet, leaving the hushed assembly.

CHAPTER 15

Ruby returned to work with a sense of relief. Mrs Fosdyke made no reference whatsoever to Ruby’s loss, nor did she enquire about her experiences at the inquest. Her only concession to the events that had dominated Ruby’s life for the past few weeks was that, although she still checked Ruby’s work, she was less vindictive with her punishments.

The girls who worked with Ruby – Edith, Doris and Phyllis – were kindness itself.

‘We read about the verdict in the paper,’ said Phyllis. They were all together in the sitting area, cleaning and tidying, before they were able to move on and clean the rooms.

‘Phyllis!’ Edith said sharply.

‘It’s all right,’ said Ruby, shaking a cushion and rearranging it on a chair. ‘I don’t mind talking about it. My one dread was that they might have thought he’d done himself in.’

‘You mean suicide?’ said Phyllis. ‘Gosh, I’d never even thought of that.’

‘Now that you’re back,’ said Doris, ‘you should come out
with us. How about coming to the Assembly Hall sometime? Tomorrow night they’re playing some hot jazz. You’d love it.’

‘I saw something about that in the paper,’ said Edith, polishing a silver cigarette box. ‘The council doesn’t like it. They’re trying to get it banned.’

‘That new Councillor Budd is sticking up for us,’ said Doris. ‘He won’t let the miserable old farts get their way.’ A Blackshirt and a member of the BUF, Captain Budd came to dine in Warnes Hotel quite often. Clean-cut with Brylcreemed hair and a generous moustache, he had made his mark in the town by standing up against those who made pontifical proclamations about the moral degeneration of young people.

‘He’s really young, for a councillor,’ said Edith. ‘My neighbour’s sister cleans for him and he’s only in his thirties.’

‘Anyway, why shouldn’t young people have fun?’ said Doris. She picked up a pencil lying on the table and tucked it over her top lip and under her nose. ‘Red-hot jazz is absolutely spiffing,’ she said, in an exaggeratedly posh voice.

‘It is my opinion,’ said Edith, in a pompous voice, ‘that young people should go in for healthy dances such as … the Lambeth Walk.’

By now all three girls were in hysterics.

‘Have you seen Edith’s ring?’ Doris suddenly asked.

‘You got engaged?’ Ruby cried.

Edith blushed and nodded.

‘To thingy from the bacon counter?’ Ruby blurted out.