Rough Justice (24 page)

‘Thank you, Mrs Flanagan, that will cover the deposit. The office will issue a full account when I’ve done the final tally. Probably, let’s see, another ten pounds should cover it.’

When Mary saw Nell’s expression, she took her by the arm. ‘Let’s get back home, eh love? It’s been a long day.’

‘I’ll just take in these fish and chips, Mary, then I’ll pop over for Tommy and Dolly, if that’s all right? I won’t be long.’

Nell sounded so weary, Mary wanted to wrap her in a blanket and let her sleep until she wasn’t tired any more, but what chance did she have with the twins wanting nursemaiding?

‘You take your time, love. Tell you what, give me the kids’ tea and they can eat it with me, Joe and Martin,’ Mary said, holding up the newspaper-wrapped parcel of fish and chips that she’d bought for her own family.

‘Thanks, Mary, but you’ve done enough.’

‘Don’t be daft. Hand them over. Joe was like his old self when he got the cards out earlier, you’ll be doing me the favour.’

As Nell was rewrapping the parcel of food after taking out the children’s saveloys and chips, the door of the Flanagans’ flat opened. It was George. He took the food from Nell and turned round to go back in.

‘You’ve got visitors,’ he said, without stopping
on his way back to the kitchen. ‘I’ll send them out here so’s me and Lil can eat in a bit of peace. They’ve been driving me mad. Talking bloody non-stop.’

‘But who—’

‘You’ll see.’

George went into the kitchen, leaving Nell to be confronted by the sight of the same two police officers who had broken the news of Stephen’s death walking along the passage towards her and Mary. The officers didn’t look very impressed at being sent out of the kitchen, and they remained firmly inside the hall while it was made clear from their attitude that Mary and Nell could stay right where they were – outside on the landing.

As one, Mary and Nell looked over to Ada Tanner’s front door. It was closed. For now.

‘Would you rather have this discussion in private, Mrs Flanagan?’ said the taller of the two. ‘We could go to the station, if you prefer.’

‘I’d rather stay here if you don’t mind.’ She turned to Mary, her face pale with fear. What did these men want with her? ‘I’ve got to pick up my children soon.’

‘As you wish.’ He took out a notebook from his pocket. ‘During the course of our enquiries we’ve learned from one of your neighbours that you often had facial injuries. She informed—’

‘Informed?’ interrupted Nell as she and Mary again both looked over their shoulders at Ada Tanner’s front door.

‘Informed us of the matter this afternoon. And,
as I noted,’ he flipped open his notebook, ‘you have signs of injuries on your face now. Would you mind telling us how they happened, Mrs Flanagan?’

‘I forgot I’d left the cupboard door open, and when I stood up I banged into it.’ The practised lie came out like the familiar lines of a favourite song, but her voice gave away her nerves. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I have to give my children their tea.’

The policeman took a while to answer. ‘That’ll be all for now.’

By the time the two men had reached the landing below, Nell was shaking. What if they thought she had something to do with Stephen’s death? What would happen to her children?

Nell stood in front of the mirror that ran the full length of the inside of the wardrobe door. She was studying her reflection, considering the black two-piece costume and cloche hat. Every inch the grieving widow.

She hadn’t even thought about what she’d be wearing to the funeral until the parcel had arrived from Sylvia the day before.

The funeral.

Nell was dreading it, and she was missing Sylvia so much. But, as usual, what choice did she have but to try and stop the boat from rocking? She couldn’t risk upsetting George and Lily, especially not now, not in her position. She closed the wardrobe door, picked up her bag and took a deep breath. Time to drop the children round to Sarah Meckel’s shop.

She knew she should count herself lucky to have so many people offering their help, but not everyone was so kind. The moment Nell stepped out of the bedroom, Lily was on her.

‘Where did you get that from then?’ Lily pinched the hem of Nell’s jacket, feeling the quality of the barathea cloth.

‘I borrowed it from a friend.’

‘What friend?’

‘One of the women I talk to down in the laundry.’

‘If you’re lying to me . . .’

Nell could feel the sweat trickling down between her shoulder blades. ‘Course I’m not. Why would I?’

‘Just so long as you never nicked any of Dad’s money to get it, because you remember, Nelly girl, we’re his family. And you are not.’

Nell would have been less worried about her and the children’s future if there actually had been any money lying around for her to steal. At least she’d have known she’d have been able to feed them.

‘Sorry I can’t chat now, Lily, I’ve got to get Tommy and Dolly round to Sarah’s.’

As Nell hurried away to the kitchen to collect her children she heard Lily’s voice loud and clear. ‘Can’t even take her little bastards to the funeral. Prefers to leave them with a bloody Jew.’

Nell stood by the graveside. The soft drizzle had stopped and the sky was now a clear, late summer blue, and droplets of water on the trees and shrubs were sparkling in the warm sun. But Nell didn’t notice anything about what in other circumstances she would have thought was a beautiful day.

She was feeling sick after the slow, jerky ride she’d had in the second mourning carriage. George and Lily hadn’t thought it appropriate for
her to travel in the first one following the hearse – that place held far too much importance for the likes of her. And she was still thinking about what Lily had said about her leaving the children with Sarah. Should she have brought them along to the funeral? Nell had asked Mary and Sarah what they thought she should do, and they’d both agreed that Tommy and Dolly were too young to take in what was going on, but now Nell wasn’t so sure that she’d done the right thing. She could only hope she hadn’t offended the twins.

The priest continued to mumble the words that she wasn’t taking in, and then he began to sprinkle holy water over the coffin. She bowed her head. What had things come to when she was standing at the grave of her children’s father, yet all she could think about was that she might have offended those two?

The priest finished with the water, but continued with his incantation.

Nell raised her head a little and looked about her under lowered lashes. She could see the Lovells – Mary, Joe and Martin – the three of them standing at a carefully respectful distance. Martin caught her eye and she looked away.

Next, her gaze fell on Ada and Albert Tanner; they’d shuffled their nosy way right to the front and had positioned themselves next to the twins. Over their squat shoulders Nell could see a handful of other neighbours from Turnbury Buildings, women she knew from down in the laundry with their generally uncomfortable-looking husbands,
with whom she was on little more than nodding acquaintance. Much of their discomfort doubtless came from the fact that Florrie Talbot, who probably knew some of the male neighbours considerably better than Nell, was standing very close to them. She was looking surprisingly young and fresh-faced without all her usual powder and paint.

Then Nell spotted Sylvia and Bernie – Sylvia glamorous as ever, despite being grim-faced, and, unusually, not even bothering to straighten up Bernie’s outfit. He was almost bursting out of the skintight black suit that looked as if he had last worn it not only a number of years ago, but also quite a few stone ago. The majority of the mourners, however, were not at all familiar to Nell; they were mostly men, some well dressed, others almost ragged. But there were two men that she had recognised and she wished sincerely that she hadn’t. They were in the background, standing in the shade of a broad yew tree – the two policemen who had broken the news to her about Stephen’s death. They weren’t wearing their uniforms, but Nell would have recognised them anywhere.

What did they want? What were they doing here? And why didn’t they just leave her alone?

With the final handful of soil tossed onto the coffin, the interment was over and people began stepping away, ostensibly to inspect the wreaths, but actually to light cigarettes and to break the
atmosphere with a little light banter. There weren’t many tears being shed for Stephen Flanagan.

Sylvia left Bernie to his mates from the pub, and went over to the twins. She said something to them and then joined Nell.

‘Anything I can do, Nell, anything at all,’ she said. ‘You only have to say, and I’ll be there. Have you got that?’

Nell cast a nervous look at the twins in case they disapproved of her talking to Sylvia, but they seemed preoccupied with accepting condolences from a huddle of the men she didn’t recognise.

Sylvia carried on. ‘Nell, we’ve put on a bit of spread at the Hope. You know my Bernie got on well with Stephen, and it’s just our way of saying so, of seeing him off. And don’t worry, I’ve squared it with them two over there.’

‘How did you do that?’

Sylvia let out a little puff of laughter. ‘I was on a winner before I’d even started. They weren’t going to say no to free booze and food, now were they?’

‘Are you sure they don’t mind? I don’t want to upset them, Sylv.’

‘Now let’s see, Lil’s exact words to George were –’ She put on a whining voice. ‘ “At least she’s taken the trouble, not like Nell, the selfish cow. So we can hardly refuse, can we George? Sad as it is for us today, we’d better at least put our face round the door. Show respect to Dad, God rest his soul.” ’

Nell said nothing.

Sylvia shook her head. ‘Some people, eh, Nell?’

She could see that this was going to be tricky, that Nell would be reluctant to go back to the pub if the twins were going to be there. ‘You know what it’s like, Nelly darling, people will expect you to show up.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s like you’re obliged. Come on, you won’t have to stay for very long. Let’s make a move, that priest looks like he could do with sinking a couple or three whiskies.’

Nell managed a sip of tea and a mouthful of ham sandwich that left her mouth as dry as if it had been swabbed with cotton wool. All around her people were drinking, eating, and now openly laughing. A release from sadness or a sign that they couldn’t give a monkey’s about Stephen Flanagan? Nell really didn’t know. What she did know was that she had to get away from there – from the crowds and the noise. She looked around until she found Sylvia. She was busily pulling pints and pouring shorts behind the bar for all those eager to make the most of the free food and drink.

Nell struggled to get to the front of the throng. Clearly, her place in the pecking order of mourners wasn’t very high.

‘Sylvia, can I have a quick word?’

Sylvia indicated to one of the extra bar staff – brought in especially for the day – with a downward jab of her index finger to her place behind the bar, and then squeezed her way round to speak to Nell.

‘How are you doing, darling?’

Nell pressed her lips tightly together, afraid she’d start weeping with the fear that was welling up inside her.

‘Want another drink? Something a bit stronger than tea this time?’

Nell found the strength to speak. ‘No thanks, Sylv. I just wanted to say thanks very much for everything. But I’ve got to go and pick up the children. Sarah will be getting busy with people coming home from work, and I don’t want to take liberties with her. She’s too good to do that to.’

She made a tiny gesture with her head to where George and Lily were getting stuck into the big enamel bowls of jellied eels from the buffet. ‘And I’d like to get back home before those two notice I’m missing.’ Nell dropped her chin. ‘I really meant it when I said how grateful I am, Sylv.’ She ran her hand down her jacket. ‘The suit, it was so kind of you, and really beautiful. I’ll drop it back when I’ve sponged and pressed it.’

‘Don’t be silly, Nell, you keep it.’

‘But I can’t—’

‘Don’t say another word – it’s yours. What good would it be to me? It’d come down to my bloody ankles.’ She touched Nell on the cheek. ‘And you’ll be expected to wear black for a bit, won’t you?’

‘Oh. I suppose I will. I hadn’t really thought.’

‘And don’t worry, you won’t have to wear that every day. I’ve got you a few other dark bits upstairs that I picked up for you – only from down the market – and stockings and that. I’ll drop them round.’

Nell felt her heart begin to pound. She couldn’t
have Sylvia turning up at the flat. What if the twins saw her?

‘That’s so nice of you, Sylv, but would it be all right if I popped round here for them?’

‘Course it would. You know how glad I am to see you, darling. Any time, any time at all.’

Nell nodded her thanks, twitched a brief smile and then pressed her way through the crowd towards the door.

Ada Tanner blocked her way. ‘You’re in a hurry,’ she sneered, before taking a long slug of her gin and orange.

‘I’ve got to collect the children,’ said Nell, barging her way forward in a manner that was totally alien to her.

‘There’s something wrong here,’ said one of the policemen, wiping the foam from his pint off his top lip. ‘Think it might be time to have another word with Mrs Tanner.’

‘You’re right. Just look at them. Nobody seems upset. Nobody at all. You’d expect
someone
to be missing him. His so-called wife looked more scared than anything else. She was out of here like a rat up a drainpipe. And those twins of his, they look more like they’re at a party than a funeral. Let alone the funeral of their own father. Have you been watching that daughter of his? She’s been sinking the booze like she’s been at sea for six months.’

‘Still no word from the local station on who he was doing the running for?’

‘You won’t be surprised to hear that they are
being a bit reluctant to be drawn on that one. You know how much money’s involved in that game.’

‘How about him?’

‘Who?’

The taller of the two policemen inclined his head towards Bernie, who had settled himself at the corner table. ‘That feller?’