Rough Justice (32 page)

‘But I could only do days, because of Tommy and Dolly, and—’ Nell started sobbing uncontrollably. ‘No, I can’t do it, Sylv. I’d only go and let you down.’

Sylvia reached out and took her hand. ‘You’d never let anyone down, darling.’

‘Yes I would, I’d have to. See, there’s not going to be just the three of us.’

‘You sly mare, you’ve gone and got yourself a boyfriend, haven’t you? But that’s no reason to cry your eyes out. It’s about bloody time you got yourself a feller.’

Nell screwed up her soggy handkerchief in her fist. ‘I’m not crying about that. I’m crying cos I think I’m pregnant again.’

‘Blimey, Nell,’ said Sylvia, her surprise written
all over her face. ‘You’re a quick worker. Just so long as he’s not like that idiot, Flanagan. You need someone who’ll look after you for a change.’

‘I haven’t got a boyfriend. It was George.’

‘George? George who?’ Sylvia’s eyes widened. ‘Please tell me you don’t mean you’re going with George Flanagan.’

Nell bowed her head. ‘No, I’m not going with him. Course I’m not. He forced himself on me.’

Sylvia’s lips twitched. ‘He did what?’

‘After the funeral.’

‘That’s it; you are not staying at that flat one day longer. He could come back any time and do whatever he likes to you.’

Sylvia stood up and gripped the side of the table. ‘If the lunatic’s capable of that, he could even bloody do you in – kill you and the kids – if there’s no one there to look after you. And I won’t take no for an answer on this one, Nell. Believe me. You, Tommy and Dolly are coming here to lodge with us – no arguments. Now, you wait there a minute, and I’ll go and get you a fresh hankie.’

Sylvia dashed down the stairs, went behind the bar and poured two large brandies. Bernie opened his mouth to question her, but she was having none of it, she went straight back upstairs, fetched a handkerchief from her bedroom and took it through to Nell.

‘I am not going to allow this to carry on. It’s not right, none of it, it never has been since you first set eyes on that Stephen bloody Flanagan, the
useless excuse for a so-called man. God forgive me, but I’m glad he’s dead.’ She took a long swallow from her glass, while pointing to Nell’s stomach. ‘Right, first job for us is to sort this little lot out. Now, let’s think. Do you want me to come to the police with you?’

Nell almost laughed. ‘I’m not going to the police. They’d never believe me. Not after they listened to all the gossip that was going around.’

‘What gossip?’

‘They thought I was carrying on with Martin Lovell, Mary’s son from across the landing. They’d only say it was his.’ She blew her nose noisily. ‘And I feel so ashamed about what happened. I don’t want anyone to know.’

‘Bloody hell, what a mess.’ Sylvia took another gulp from her glass. ‘But don’t you worry yourself, Nell. There is nothing for you to be ashamed of, and there is no chance that you are going to have that baby. None. And we won’t be getting it done by some back-street quack down some dirty alley, either.’

Sylvia looked away and let out a long slow sigh. ‘I did that once, went to some bastard who might as well have been a butcher the way he treated me.’ She drained her glass. ‘It’s why I could never have a baby. I’ve been so lucky that Bern’s been so understanding over the years.’

‘I’m sorry, Sylv. I had no idea.’

Sylvia smiled sadly. ‘That’s all right, Nell. It’s all in the past; it’s you we’ve got to worry about now.’ Her face lit up. ‘Here, I know. One of the
young doctors from over the road owes Bernie a few quid – a good few quid, as it happens. I’d guarantee he’ll be more than glad of a chance to pay off his debts.’

‘No, Sylvia, I couldn’t, truly I couldn’t.’

‘Will you stop worrying about money just for once, Nell?’

‘It’s not that. I couldn’t do it to the baby.’

Sylvia rolled her eyes. ‘Do you really want to have that animal’s child? To carry it in your belly for another what, six, seven months?’

Nell shook her head.

‘No, of course you don’t.’

‘But I still don’t think I could do it.’

‘Look, Nell, we’ll see about that later, shall we? For now you just go over to the hospital, get your stuff and tell them you’re leaving.’

‘I can’t, Sylv, I’d lose my day’s pay, and it wouldn’t be fair to the other girls – we help each other with folding the sheets and that. I should at least work out the afternoon.’

Sylvia picked up Nell’s untouched drink, took a long swig and dabbed her lips with her hankie. ‘Bloody hell, you are such a good girl, Nell. You always have been. And that’s half your trouble. If you’d have been a bit tougher like me . . .’

‘But I have got to work the day out.’

‘OK, you don’t want to lose your pay and let the others down. So tell them you’ll finish today’s shift, but that’s it. You have got to leave there or it’ll flipping do you in. Tell them your husband’s come back from sea or something. Tell them
you’re off to be that bloody Wallis Simpson’s brides-flipping-maid. Tell them anything. Then come back over here and I’ll go with you to the Buildings and we’ll get the kids and all your stuff.’

Nell laughed mirthlessly. ‘All what stuff?’

‘So I gather you’ve not got much then?’

‘Not really.’ Nell looked down into her lap. ‘Just the things you’ve bought me over the years.’

‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’

‘Do you really think Bernie would let me stay here, after what he said?’

‘Believe me, I can guarantee he will. Like most blokes, he reckons that what goes on between a couple is their business, private. But that? That is the one thing that no man – well, not one worth a light – can stomach lowlifes like him doing to a woman.’

Satisfied that Sylvia had seen Nell well off the premises, Bernie beckoned to his wife to come back behind the bar.

‘Enjoy your mothers’ meeting, Sylv?’ he asked, without realising how accurate he was being. ‘Because I have been run off my sodding feet behind here.’

‘Bernie, I need to talk to you.’ Sylvia led him to the quieter, far end of the bar and stood on tiptoe so she could whisper into his ear.

‘I don’t know how to say this nicely, darling, so I’ll just have to come straight out with it.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Now I don’t want you going off
your head, Bernie, but George Flanagan . . .’ She paused, taking a deep breath. ‘George Flanagan raped our little Nelly. On the day of his own father’s funeral. And now she’s pregnant by him.’

Bernie’s face screwed up in disgust. ‘No.’

‘On my life.’

‘The dirty stinking swivel-eyed bastard.’

‘I know, it makes your guts churn, don’t it?’ Sylvia dropped down onto her heels and poured them each a brandy. ‘Here, drink that. And do you know what the worst part of it is? She was like a mother to them twins. It’s disgusting, that’s what it is. And that’s why her and the kids are coming here to stay with us.’

This time even big, bumptious, opinionated Bernie had no objections. ‘He did that to young Nell, a girl who’d lived with his own father? It beggars belief, the filthy bastard.’

Sylvia stared down into her glass. ‘That thing and his sister can even have that poxy flat back if they want it – they deserve it, because you know what? That place must be bloody haunted with what’s gone on in there.’

Bernie knocked back his brandy and poured himself another. ‘I feel right bad about this, Sylv. I just wish I could have known. I’d have never left that girl there with him if I’d had any idea that this would happen.’

‘Don’t blame yourself, Bern. Who would have thought that anyone – even him – would have been capable of such a thing? And what makes me sick is he’s just gonna get away with it. Nell
won’t even think about going to the law. She reckons they’d never believe her. The poor little mare says she feels ashamed.’

‘Don’t you worry, Sylv, he is not getting away with anything. And if that animal’s got any brains, him and his sister had better start looking at other places to park their bastard stalls. Somewhere well away from me.’

At the end of that day – her final one in the hated ironing room – Nell left her job feeling not exactly happy, but at least a bit better. As she had worked through the afternoon she’d been aware of the jealous glances of the other women who had heard her spinning what they all decided was a tale to the superintendent about why she was leaving so suddenly. But Nell could think of nothing but the chance Sylvia was giving her and her children, and also – in a very different way – about the other child that was growing inside her. Although horrified and revolted by the memory of what George had done to her, she still didn’t think she could get rid of it. She of all people knew what it meant to feel unwanted, so how could she even consider doing that to an unborn child? At least she had been given the possibility of a life when she had been put in the home.

But now, as she and Sylvia sat squashed up against one another on the bench seat of the crowded bus, with its windows steamed up and the ice-cold wind blowing in across the platform, making the young conductor rub his hands and stamp his feet to keep warm, Nell knew that Sylvia wouldn’t leave it at that. Unfortunately,
that wasn’t her way. But Nell couldn’t be angry with her, she knew her friend only wanted what was best for her. Nell would just have to be patient when she nagged at her.

‘Nell, I said: are you listening to me?’

‘Sorry, I was miles away.’

‘I said what do you think? Shall we go to the flat first or fetch the kids from the shop?’

At least she wasn’t telling her again that she should go to see that young doctor. ‘If it’s all right with you, Sylv, I’d rather go to the flat first. Get it over with. The sooner I’m out of there the better, and it wouldn’t mean dragging Tommy and Dolly up there for nothing.’

‘Good idea,’ Sylvia said, catching the bus conductor taking an admiring look at Nell’s legs.

She shoved Nell. ‘See the way he’s looking at you? If you were fancy free and not –’ she nodded at Nell’s middle – ‘you know, you could start having a life again. I’m not being hard, Nell, but a young girl like you deserves someone nice to share her life with.’

‘Please, Sylvia, don’t let’s wind up having words over this. I really appreciate what you’re trying to do, but don’t keep going on about it. I’ve made up my mind.’

Sylvia crossed her legs and folded her arms, making herself into a tight little bundle of defiance. ‘We’ll see.’

‘Why have you three all been living in this one room? It was all right for the kids, but with the lot
of you crowded in here, it’s more like a bloody rabbit hutch.’ Sylvia looked around the front room of 55 Turnbury Buildings. ‘Why didn’t you use the other bedrooms?’

Nell, who was on her knees, with her head and shoulders under the bed retrieving the handbag, was only glad that Sylvia couldn’t see her bright red face. ‘We stayed in here because it’s the only room with its own lock on the door,’ she mumbled. ‘And the children like me to sing them little songs and tell them stories as they go to sleep.’

‘Even so, Nell . . .’

‘We don’t stay in here all of the time. We sometimes go in the kitchen, and we use the wash house down in the basement.’

‘For goodness sake Nell, if I’d had any idea about how the three of you have been living . . . It’s like being in prison. I’d never have let you stay here like this, no matter what Bernie had to say about it.’

If George had appeared at that moment, tiny as she was, Sylvia would have punched him on the nose – or worse. ‘Them Flanagans, how could they have done this to you? And how can you even think of having that arsehole’s baby?’

Nell shuffled backwards on her knees out from under the bed. She stood up and her head dropped forward. ‘I’ve just realised I haven’t got anything to put our things in,’ she said, her eyes immediately brimming with tears as if those were the saddest words ever uttered.

‘Don’t upset yourself any more, Nell.’ Sylvia gulped back her own tears and touched Nell on the shoulder. ‘This’ll all be just a bad memory before you know it. Now, is there anything special you want to take?’

‘Only this.’ The tears were now pouring down her cheeks as she held out the handbag that Sylvia had given to her. ‘And Tommy’s lead soldiers that you got him. Dolly took her toy rabbit with her to the shop.’

‘Please don’t cry, Nell.’ Sylvia clambered over the double bed to the narrow wardrobe that was jammed in the corner. The door could only be opened halfway before it hit the headboard.

‘I don’t suppose you’ll be too worried about wearing this mourning gear any more, and most of Tommy and Dolly’s stuff only looks fit for the ragman.’

‘I’ve done my best for them.’ Nell’s voice was flat, defeated.

Sylvia shut the wardrobe and climbed back over the bed to her friend. ‘Of course you have, sweetheart. No one could have done more. You are a beautiful, loving girl, and you’ve been a good mum to those kids. And don’t you ever go thinking otherwise.’

Sylvia handed Nell a handkerchief.

‘This is getting a habit,’ sniffed Nell.

‘I came prepared.’ Sylvia swiped the back of her hand across her eyes. ‘Now, let’s get out of here, shall we? Pick up them soldiers of Tommy’s and just leave.’

Nell and Sylvia walked around the corner at the top of Wapping Lane. Sylvia was doing her best to cheer them up, chattering away about her plans for going shopping for clothes, decorating bedrooms and getting the children registered at the local school. Nell tried to listen to her, but she couldn’t concentrate for fretting about what on earth she thought she was doing and about what was going to happen to her and the children. What would Bernie say when she started showing and he realised that there were going to be four of them living in his pub? And one of them a screaming baby.

‘What the hell?’ Nell jerked her arm away from Sylvia’s and started running towards Sarah’s shop on the corner of the street.

Sylvia caught up with her and grabbed her by the arm. ‘Wait a minute, Nell. This looks nasty.’

Nell tried to pull away, but despite the difference in their size, Sylvia had a firm hold on her.

‘Let me go. Tommy and Dolly are in there.’