Red Sky in the Morning (43 page)

May nodded, tears in her eyes. ‘I know. He made me promise not to tell you. Told me that it would be the worse for me – and for you – if I did. But I was going to tell you, if
only we could have had a few moments alone.’

‘How long has it been going on?’

‘It started just after I’d bought the house. He was fine before we got married and afterwards, until – until . . . Oh, Anna, I gave him all of the two thousand pounds your
grandfather left me. After that, once he’d got it all, he – he started being nasty. Oh, what a fool I’ve been.’

‘What are we going to do?’ Anna whispered.

May sighed, shrugged helplessly and said, ‘I don’t know.’

‘Leave him. Come and live here with me. Oh Mam, come home.’

‘He’d never let me alone, Anna. He swore he’d never let me go. I married him, didn’t I?’ she added bitterly.

They sat together until they heard footsteps pass by the bedroom door and go downstairs. They held their breath.

‘That’s Douglas going down for his breakfast,’ May whispered. ‘He’ll get a shock, won’t he? No fire, no dutiful wife waiting to serve him.’

‘You’d better go down. I don’t want him going for you again because – because of me.’

At that moment a bellow came from the bottom of the stairs. ‘May? Where are you?’

May jumped at the sound, but did not get up at once. ‘What are you going to do? Do you want me to stay here with you? I’ll see if I can get them to go back to town without
me.’

‘I want to get in the bath, then I’ll come down. Where’s – where’s Bruce?’

May shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’ Now she did stand up and held out her hand. ‘Come on, I’ll help you into the bathroom and make sure you’ve locked the door
before I go down.’

‘Where on earth have you been, May? And where’s my breakfast? Where’s Anna?’

Her anger emboldened May to say, ‘You might well ask where Anna is.’

Douglas frowned. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Your precious son forced himself on her last night. He raped her, Douglas, there’s no other way to put it. Your Bruce raped my little girl.’

Douglas stared at her for a moment and then threw back his head and laughed. ‘That’s my boy. I never thought he had it in him to go through with it. So that’s why he went to
the pub – to get a bit of Dutch courage.’

Now it was May’s turn to stare at him, aghast. Her voice trembled as she said, ‘What do you mean “go through with it”?’ You can’t mean – oh you
can’t – that he – that you
planned
it?’

‘Well, not rape exactly, only that he should seduce her.’

‘Why? In God’s name – why? She liked him. She really liked him. But now—’

‘Mmm.’ Douglas’s eyes were calculating. ‘Yes, I see that. Maybe he’s gone a bit too far.’

‘A bit too far?’ May’s voice rose hysterically. ‘Do you have any idea what it means for a woman to be violated like that? Especially a young girl. A
virgin
!’

‘Oh, come now, May. Don’t be so melodramatic. She’s led him on. You can’t deny that. And when a young feller’s blood is up—’

‘How dare you? How dare you suggest that it’s Anna’s fault?’ she screamed.

Now Douglas’s eyes were glittering. ‘Oh, I dare because that is what happened.’ He grabbed her by the shoulders, his strong grip bruising her. ‘Do you hear me?
That
is what happened.
’

May gasped and stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

‘And now,’ he said ominously, ‘they’ll have to get married, won’t they?’

‘Married?’ May’s voice was a squeak. ‘Oh no. Not now. She’ll not marry him now.’

‘Oh, but she will, May,’ Douglas said calmly. His quiet tone was far more menacing than if he had been shouting. ‘Anna will marry Bruce and then, one day, this farm will be
his.’

May felt as if the breath had been knocked from her body. ‘No,’ she managed to gasp at last. ‘Never! Over my dead body.’

Douglas laughed, but without humour. ‘And even that, my dear May, can be arranged.’

At once the vision of Buster’s still form came into May’s imagination and then a more horrifying picture pushed its way to the forefront of her mind.

The memory of her father, Luke, lying on the ground, stabbed and bleeding to death.

May closed her eyes and groaned. ‘Oh no! No,’ she moaned more to herself than to the man who still held her in his grasp. ‘Don’t let it be true. Not that. Oh please, not
that.’

Douglas let go of her suddenly so that she staggered and almost fell. She put out her hand and steadied herself against the kitchen table.

‘Now, how about getting me some breakfast and when Bruce and Anna show themselves, we’ll begin to make arrangements. Maybe we can get a special licence. If not, then it will have to
be the next time he comes home on leave.’

May moved woodenly towards the range and took up the frying pan, wishing she had the temerity to hit him over the head with it. But she didn’t. She was weak. She despised herself now. It
had been her weakness – her need to have a man to love and protect and care for her – that had led her beloved daughter and herself into this mess.

She cooked breakfast for Douglas, wishing she had rat poison handy. Douglas sat at the table and opened his newspaper as if nothing untoward had happened.

‘Thank you,’ he said sarcastically, as she banged the plate of eggs, bacon and fried bread in front of him. He glanced round the table. ‘Where’s the tomato
sauce?’

Obediently, May fetched it from the pantry. She poured a cup of tea for him and one for herself, but couldn’t bring herself to eat anything. Revulsion against this man and his son choked
her.

The kitchen door opened and a tousle-headed, yawning Bruce appeared. ‘Morning,’ he muttered and dropped into a chair at the table.

May stared at him in astonishment, then crashed her cup into the saucer. Bruce winced at the sudden noise and, frowning, glanced up.

‘Do you have to make such a noise?’ he grumbled. ‘My head’s fit to burst.’

May gaped at him. ‘I don’t believe this,’ she murmured. Was she dreaming? Was this all some terrible nightmare that no one else but herself was experiencing? But no, it was
true. At this moment Anna was in the bath trying to scrub away all traces of her attacker – the young man, who sat so calmly before her now, waiting for his breakfast . . .

May sprang to her feet. ‘How can you sit there,’ she shrieked, ‘as if nothing’s happened?’ She shook her head in bewilderment as Bruce gaped up at her,
uncomprehending. ‘Don’t tell me you can’t remember? That you were so drunk—?’

‘Can’t remember what?’ Bruce glanced at his father. ‘Do you know what she’s on about?’

‘It seems,’ Douglas drawled, ‘that Anna is accusing you of raping her last night.’

Bruce stared at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment the door opened and all eyes turned to see Anna standing there.

For a moment, they all seemed turned to stone. The bruise on the side of Anna’s face was swollen and darkening and the two fingers on her left hand were wrapped in a clean white
handkerchief.

May moved suddenly and rushed to put her arms around Anna and draw her into the room. ‘Come and sit down, darling.’

Stiffly, her gaze fastened on Bruce’s face, Anna moved across the room and stood on the hearth rug. Facing the two men defiantly, she said, ‘Leave this house. Both of you. My
mother’s staying here with me and—’

As if catapulted, both men sprang up and faced them.

‘Oh no, she’s not,’ Douglas said.

‘Mam,’ Anna said quietly, ‘go and fetch Buster.’

‘Oh darling,’ May said tearfully, ‘I can’t. He – Jed found him. Someone killed Buster.’

Briefly, Anna’s gaze swivelled to look at her mother. ‘Killed him? How?’

‘With – with a knife.’

Anna stared at her and then slowly her gaze came back to Bruce’s face. ‘You! You killed him. Didn’t you? Didn’t you?’ Suddenly Anna launched herself at him, her
arms flailing, but Bruce caught her easily and held her wrists. She kicked out at him, catching him on the shin, but he wound his leg around her and brought her down in a crude tackle. He pinioned
her arms to the floor and straddled her body. ‘Want some more of what you had last night, do you?’

‘No, no,’ May shouted, trying to pull him away from Anna, but now Douglas grasped May from behind, pinning her arms to her sides and holding her fast. Tears coursed down May’s
face. ‘Anna, Anna—’ she cried, watching with horrified eyes whilst her daughter struggled to throw Bruce off her, but he held her easily, laughing cruelly. ‘Yeah, go on,
struggle all you like. You won’t get the better of me.’ He glanced round to look triumphantly at May and his father. ‘We’ve got you both just where we want you now,
haven’t we?’

Whether it was because Bruce relaxed his concentration for a brief moment or because Anna made one last superhuman effort, but somehow she freed her leg from beneath him, bent her knee and,
pressing her foot and elbow against the floor managed to roll him over. Without waiting for him to recover from her surprise move, she brought her knee up viciously into his groin, so that Bruce
gave a cry of pain and doubled over, writhing on the floor.

Anna scrambled to her feet and turned towards her mother.

‘Leave me,’ May gasped. ‘Don’t worry about me, darling. I mean it. Just go. Go on. Run, Anna. Get away from here. Run, Anna, just
run
. . .’

‘Who on earth were those two lunatics? They knocked me off my bike,’ Tony asked his mother indignantly.

Bertha smiled. ‘Oh, we had a very nice chat.’

Tony looked at her in surprise. ‘
You
did? You’ve been chatting to complete strangers?’

Bertha nodded, looking very pleased with herself.

‘Who were they?’

‘A father and son called Whittaker.’ Her smile widened maliciously. ‘They came looking for someone. I’ll give you three guesses who. Did you see the younger
feller?’

‘Not really. It was all too quick. I just saw two men in the car. I got their number plate, though. Reckon I’ll have a word with PC Jenkins—’

‘I wouldn’t, because they might be doing us a big favour.’

Tony eyed her. It was a long time since he had seen his mother with a gleam in her eye. She was excited about something.

Tony frowned. ‘What’s going on, Mam? And what do you mean “they came looking for someone”?’

‘Exactly what I say. The younger feller – well, the older one too mebbe, though his hair’s grey now – but the younger feller had bright red hair. Copper coloured.
Just like the girl’s.
’

Tony stared at her. ‘You mean – Maisie?’

‘Course I mean Maisie. What other little trollop around here has red hair?’

‘They came looking for Maisie?’

‘Well, I suppose it was more
her
, Anna. They didn’t even know about Maisie. Didn’t even know Anna had been pregnant. Thrilled, the young feller was, to think he was a
dad. And the old one kept saying, “I’ve got a granddaughter. Just think, I’m a granddad.” Of course, they wanted to see them straight away . . .’

‘And you told them?’ Now Tony was incredulous.

‘Course I did . . .’

Tony’s face was thunderous. ‘Why, Mam? When you know that’s who she must have run away from? That’s who she must be so frightened of.’

Suddenly, Bertha’s expression was ugly. ‘Why should I care? Why should I protect her? Your dad’s fancy piece . . .’

The truth was filtering through Tony’s mind now. He pointed accusingly at his mother. ‘You’ve lied to me. All these years you’ve tried to make me believe that –
that Maisie was
his
child and my
half-sister
. But she wasn’t, was she, Mam? ’Cos now you’re saying that this red-haired feller that turned up today was her
dad.’ He paused a moment and then added again incredulously, ‘Why, Mam? Why?’

Now Bertha was truculent, trying to justify herself. ‘Well, I thought she was. Men are all the same. Why else would he have brought the little trollop home with him that night if he
wasn’t getting his oats there? Or at least hoping to. All right, mebbe Maisie isn’t his, but I bet they’ve been at it all these years since.’

Tony’s last glance at his mother, before he turned and left the house, was a mixture of contempt and pity.

As he began to walk up the track, he saw Maisie running pell-mell towards him, her hair flying, her skirt above her knees.

‘Tony, Tony, hurry—’ Even before she reached him he could see that she was crying hysterically. He caught her and held her. ‘What is it? Is it your mam? Did those two men
frighten her?’

‘No – yes – it’s worse. Your dad. He – he tried to defend her and one of them had got a knife—’ Maisie could say no more as sobs racked her.

‘Oh my God,’ Tony breathed. ‘Is he hurt?’

Maisie could only nod. Releasing her, Tony began to run up the track, pausing only to say, ‘Go to the house. Use the phone. Get help.’

Maisie rushed into the house, ignoring Bertha, and grabbed the phone.

‘’Ere, ’ere, what do you think you’re doing, miss?’ Bertha protested, but the girl, still crying, ignored her. With shaking fingers, she dialled Pat’s number.
The district nurse was the only person she could think of to ring. She was certainly the nearest. The ringing tone seemed to sound in her ears for ages, until Pat’s breathless voice said,
‘Hello. You just caught me. I was on my way out. Who is it?’

‘It’s Mr Eddie . . . I mean, this is Maisie. Mr Eddie’s been hurt. Stabbed—’ Dimly the girl heard the listening Bertha cry out.

‘I’ll come at once,’ was all Pat said.

Maisie replaced the receiver in its cradle and turned to face Bertha who was staring disbelievingly at her.

‘What do you mean stabbed?’

Now that Pat was on her way, Maisie was managing to control her hysteria. Pat would help Mr Eddie. She was a nurse. If anyone could save him, it would be Pat.

‘Those two men. They grabbed me mam and me and Mr Eddie tried to help us. The younger one had a knife. He went for Mr Eddie and – and stabbed him in the stomach.’

Bertha felt for the edge of the table and sat down heavily, staring unseeingly ahead. Maisie turned and left the house, running back up the hill.