The Urchin's Song (53 page)

Duffy, that little snake of a man, had got his hands on Josie.
As Barney pulled on his clothes his guts were twisting and his mind was racing. He’d kill him, he’d
kill
him if he hurt a hair of her head. Dear God, dear God, do something, anything. For the first time in years he found himself praying frantically. If You save her she can be with Oliver for the rest of her life, I don’t care, only don’t let her be hurt. He wouldn’t want to live if anything happened to her.
Duffy.
Oh, God, God . . . It felt as if a knife was tearing at his innards.

Gertie was sitting in the carriage with the others when Barney joined them outside, and as he climbed in she said brokenly, ‘Oh Barney, what’ll we do? What’ll we do?’

‘Pray Ada and Dora find out where she is.’ It was Georgie who answered and his voice was grim. ‘In the meantime all we can do is wait to hear something.’

Wait? Barney sat down beside Gertie, twisting his hands together until it was painful. How the hell was he going to sit and do nothing? He’d go stark staring barmy. But Georgie was right, they couldn’t do anything else. She could be anywhere.

‘What . . . what do you think they’ll do to Oliver?’ Gertie murmured tremblingly. ‘He wouldn’t have let them take her without trying to stop them. You . . . you don’t think . . .’ Her voice trailed away and everyone looked at each other, but as the horse began to clip-clop through the silent streets no one said a word.

 

When Josie surfaced from the thick fog which had blanketed her senses, the first thing she thought was, Oh I feel sick, so sick. She felt if she so much as breathed she would vomit, and she lay absolutely still for some seconds before she opened her eyes.

To her amazement she wasn’t in the big double bed she shared with Oliver in Park Place, and then after one stunned moment it all came rushing back and she jerked into a sitting position, wincing as her head protested at the sudden movement and her stomach rose up into her mouth.

It was all she could do to roll over on the narrow pallet bed she was lying on and empty the contents of her stomach on the dusty floorboards, but afterwards she felt better although by now she’d become aware of Oliver on the other side of the room lying on a similar bed. He was clearly unconscious and making a funny sort of gurgling noise in his throat, but when Josie stumbled across to him he appeared unhurt apart from the massive egg-type lump on the side of his forehead.

Apart from the two pallet beds the small room was quite empty. There was one narrow window which had thick iron bars cemented in it and no curtains, and when she tried the door it was locked. This was a cell.

Josie stood with her back against the door for a few moments as she tried to clear her mind, breathing in slowly and trying to ignore the smell of vomit.

It was a cell, and she didn’t need to ask who had brought them here or why. For the last two weeks she had always had her sisters with her and had been surrounded by a crowd of people most of the time, but tonight had been different. Tonight it had been just Oliver and herself, which meant . . . Which meant Patrick Duffy and probably Jimmy too had been waiting for the right moment to snatch her.

The only light in the small room came from two flickering candles in thin metal holders either side of the windowsill and it was still dark outside, so it couldn’t be many hours since they had been kidnapped.
Kidnapped.
Josie’s stomach turned over again but she fought the sickness, speaking out loud to herself as she said, ‘No more of that. You’re not hurt and you’ve got your wits about you so think, girl.
Think.
’ There had to be a way out of this.

She walked over to the window and pulled at each of the bars in turn, trying to see if one of them was loose but it was no use. They were rock solid and the only result was orange rust on her hands.

She still felt muzzy from whatever it was on the pad they had pressed to her nose, and the sweet sickening odour was in her nostrils. She took a handkerchief out of the pocket of her dress and blew her nose, and as the smell cleared she felt better. She would get them out of this, she
would
. Duffy wouldn’t win.

There was nothing she could use to defend herself in this spartan little cell. Of course she could throw the candlestick holders at whoever opened the door next, but as they were of the cheap tin variety with thin tallow candles already half burned down, they wouldn’t hurt a fly.

She walked across to Oliver again, kneeling at his side and shaking him gently as she said his name over and over. There was no response beyond the sound in the back of his throat, but she sat on the floor by his pallet bed stroking the hair back from his swollen forehead and gazing around the room.

She mustn’t panic, that was the first thing. If she gave in to this feeling which had her wanting to throw herself at the door and batter it with her fists while she screamed out loud, it wouldn’t do any good.

What would they do to her? And what would they do to Oliver? Oh, if he’d just wake up they could fight them together. Somehow they could try and get out.

Josie had no idea how long she sat by the side of Oliver’s bed before she heard a key turning in the door. She sprang to her feet, one hand clutching her throat and the other her middle, and it was like that she faced Patrick Duffy and the two big burly men who stood just behind him.

‘Hello, lass.’

Whatever she had expected it wasn’t the quiet, almost friendly tone in which he addressed her, but somehow, instead of being reassuring it was more terrifying than any ranting and raving. She stared into the face of the man she had loathed all her life but she didn’t speak.

‘I read in them newspapers you wanted to meet up with your brothers again - is that right?’

She raised her head slightly but still said nothing.

‘So I thought, why not help the little lady along? She’s got involved in my affairs in the past, so why not me return the compliment, eh? Eh? What do you think about that then?’

‘I think if there was any justice in the world you would have been sent down the line years ago,’ Josie said shakily.

‘Oh,’ Patrick smiled now, ‘there’s justice in the world all right, but I make me own, darlin’. Yes, I make me own. Take you, for example. I’ve waited a long time for recompense concerning you, but finally it’s come. Now, you want to meet your brothers, I understand. I can help you out with one of ’em at least.’

He motioned with his hands at the men behind him as he spoke the last words, and as Josie watched them approach she straightened her shoulders. When one of them reached out for her she flicked away his hand, saying, ‘I’m quite capable of walking myself, thank you.’

The two men turned as one to look at Duffy who shrugged. ‘Still got some spirit, I see. Well, I like that in a woman meself. All right, leave her be but watch her.’

‘What . . . what about my husband?’

‘I think he’s quite comfortable where he is. Now move.’ As soon as she followed the first man out on to the landing, Josie realised she must be in the attic room of the house, and this was borne out when they went down two sets of stairs to emerge into a well-lit hall. Unlike the little attic room the rest of the house seemed to be furnished, and luxuriously too. A cord carpet covered the stairs and floors, and along with several large gilt-framed mirrors on the walls the hall boasted a couple of highly polished occasional tables. Whoever had said crime didn’t pay hadn’t met Duffy.

‘Thought I’d be livin’ in the sort of muck-heap you came from, I bet.’ Duffy had noticed Josie looking about her. ‘This place don’t look much on the outside - don’t want to attract unwelcome attention from the law now, do we? - but it’s me home and I like things nice.’

Josie said nothing, and her silence seemed to infuriate him because he caught at her arm, swinging her round to face him as he said, ‘There’s things in this house all your fancy pals in London’d be glad to own, I can tell you, an’ I bet I could buy and sell more than a few of ’em several times over.’

She stared at him disdainfully. ‘My mother used to say you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, and she was right.’

The slap across her face sent her ricocheting against the wall, and as one of the men sniggered, Duffy said, ‘I’ll silk purse you, me fine lady. Oh aye, I will at that. By the time I’ve finished with you you’ll wish you’d never been born.’ He pushed at her to start walking again, and as she followed the man in front of her they didn’t turn off into any of the rooms leading from the hall but walked right to the end of it. Here a door opened into a large, stone-floored scullery; the man leading them opened another door to their left and Josie saw a row of steep stone steps leading down into a cellar which looked to be lit by several large oil lamps.

‘Get down there unless you want me boot in your backside.’

She had hesitated, but now as Duffy spoke from behind her Josie followed the man in front of her down into what turned out to be a very large room. And in front of her, standing to one side of a chair, was her da. The shock of it took her breath away but almost instantly she realised it couldn’t be her father. The face was too young and the hair was fairer than her da’s had been, but otherwise this person was the spitting image of Bart Burns. ‘Jimmy?’ she said dazedly.

‘Hello, Josie.’ His voice was grim and his face more so. ‘It’s been a long time.’

‘Aye, yes it has.’ She was trembling so much now that she had to grip the sides of her dress to hide the shaking of her hands. ‘I . . . I’ve been looking for you. You and Hubert.’

‘And now you’ve found me.’ His eyes moved to the side of her face which was burning from Duffy’s blow, and as his gaze went to the man at the back of her, Duffy said, ‘She asked for it. Don’t know when she’s beat, this one, but she’s goin’ to learn pretty quick.’

‘Why are you doing this?’ Josie appealed directly to Jimmy’s stony face. ‘You’re my
brother
!’

‘It’s a pity you didn’t remember that years ago when you sold us all out. You’d have seen Hubert an’ me go down the line, Da an’ all, and because of you he had to get out so quick he couldn’t even let me an’ Hubert know. If it wasn’t for Patrick--’

‘Patrick?’
Josie couldn’t contain herself any longer. ‘Patrick Duffy destroyed our family--’

‘Shut up.’

‘And I didn’t sell anyone out--’

‘I said shut up.’ Jimmy had moved in front of her with a lightning stride, and as he now raised his hand Josie stared back at him defiantly. There was a moment’s pause and then her brother stepped back a pace. ‘Tie her to that chair.’ He gestured at one of the men who had brought her down. ‘Where’s her husband?’

‘Upstairs.’ It was Duffy who answered. ‘Why? You want him down here?’ And as Jimmy nodded, Duffy turned to the other man. ‘Get him.’

‘Jimmy, you have to listen to me,’ Josie said rapidly. ‘I didn’t do anything. It was Da and Patrick who came for me and Gertie in Newcastle; they attacked us and then he got injured’ - she nodded towards Duffy, her hands being strapped to her side on the chair - ‘and they went off together. He saw Da last and--’

‘You’re lying.’ It was flat and heavy. ‘Da begged you not to take Gertie and go to Newcastle but you wouldn’t listen. You wanted to make a new life for yourself and you thought the easiest way was to get rid of Da an’ me an’ Hubert. Mam was in your pocket, she always had been.’

‘Da
begged
me?’ In spite of the danger she was in she just couldn’t let it pass. ‘You know that’s not true. Da
threatened
me. He controlled us all by threats and beatings. He sold Ada and Dora to him’ - again she nodded at Duffy who was standing by with a slight smile on his face - ‘and he wanted to do the same with Gertie.
That’s
why I had to leave.’

‘Another word and I’ll gag you, I swear it.’

Oh, what could she say, how could she convince him? As the door opened and the man who had been sent to fetch Oliver entered with her husband’s body draped over his shoulder, the feeling that she was in the middle of her worst nightmare was strong. She had actually dreamed of something like this happening, time and time again when she was younger, but not so much since she had married.

‘What’ll I do with ’im?’

Jimmy flicked his head towards a pile of old sacks in the corner and the man walked across to them, letting Oliver slide off his shoulder and land with a bump which sent clouds of dust into the air.

‘He’s still out for the count.’ It was said with derision and Josie bit hard on her lip.

‘Tie his hands and feet.’ Patrick entered the proceedings again, and once Oliver was secured he said to Jimmy, ‘Come on, let ’em stew a while. Doug’ll be over later but you’ll have a bit of time with her afore he takes her. Give it an hour or two and you might find the rats down here have made her a bit more respectful. They might wake him up an’ all. Nothing like a rat or two taking a chunk out of you to bring you to your senses.’

Jimmy seemed to hesitate for a moment but then he followed the others towards the steps, and it was when he was halfway up them that a knock sounded at the front door. In a moment Jimmy had bounded up the last few stairs, the door was slammed shut and from the sound of it bolted, and Josie was left alone. She didn’t have to think about what to do. She took a deep breath and began to shout and scream at the top of her voice, and it could only have been a minute or two before the door was opened again. She stared upwards, her heart pounding.

Her shouting had been mainly in the vain hope that whoever was at the door might, just might, be a policeman or someone outside Duffy’s employ, but when Jimmy came down the steps again followed by Duffy and one of his henchmen, her heart sank, even before her brother said, ‘Someone else to see you, Josie. Wonder how our Hubert got to know you were a guest here?’ and then she saw Hubert behind the others.

‘Hubert.’ She breathed her younger brother’s name, and he answered saying, ‘Josie. Oh Josie, lass. Are you all right?’