The Urchin's Song (54 page)

She nodded before saying, ‘They’ve hurt Oliver.’

‘All right, all right, that’s enough.’ Jimmy turned to Hubert. ‘So, how did you know she was here?’

As Hubert began to make some garbled explanation of how he had been waiting outside the Grand to catch a glimpse of her but she had never turned up, so then he had put two and two together, Jimmy just stood and watched him with cold unblinking eyes, his gaze only leaving Hubert’s face when the other man appeared at the top of the cellar steps. ‘Well?’ In answer to the one word from Jimmy the man shook his head.

‘Just a couple of dock dollies out there; one as big as a tram,’ he said expressionlessly. ‘I told ’em to skedaddle an’ the big ’un gave me a bit of lip but they went.’

Jimmy nodded, turning back to Hubert as he said, ‘So you were alone then,’ and without waiting for his brother to answer him, ‘You shouldn’t have come, Hubert.’

‘Aye, I should. I couldn’t stand by and see me own sister disappear without doing something about it.’

‘This is between me an’ Jimmy an’ her.’ Patrick entered the conversation, his eyes cold as he glanced at Hubert. ‘You’ll keep your mouth shut about this little lot or else.’

‘And you’re going along with that?’ Josie spoke directly to Jimmy. ‘You’ll let him hurt me and threaten Hubert and not do a thing about it? We’re your
family
, Jimmy. Doesn’t that count for anything?’

‘Don’t you put yourself alongside him.’ Jimmy’s voice was harsh. ‘Hubert’s me brother but as far as I’m concerned that’s the only family I’ve got. You’re less than the muck under me boots.’

‘She’s our sister, man.’

‘She’s nowt!’

‘Let one of ’em take him upstairs.’ Patrick’s voice was soft as he appealed to Jimmy. ‘They can keep him quiet - not hurt him, just keep him quiet - till we’re finished down here.’

Josie was straining against the ropes which held her now, the thought of being left alone with Patrick Duffy and Jimmy terrifying.

‘I’m going nowhere.’ Hubert had straightened his shoulders as he spoke. ‘But I’ll say this, man. I’ve stood by you up to this point but you go through with this and you’re no brother of mine.’

‘You’d put her before me?’ Jimmy moved menacingly over to Hubert but the younger brother held his ground, his chin lifting slightly. ‘After all we’ve been through together, you’d put that baggage afore me?’

‘If that’s how you want to put it, aye, I would.’

Jimmy hit Hubert with the back of his hand, not his fist, but the force of the blow still sent the slighter, younger man reeling, and as he tried to steady himself Josie shouted, ‘Leave him be! You leave him! You’re as bad as Da was!’

‘Is that right?’ Jimmy swung round, a terrible look on his face. ‘So you admit you sold us all to the law then?’

‘No, I didn’t.’ Josie was panting and struggling but she could do nothing, secured as she was. ‘I swear I didn’t.’

‘She’s lying, son.’

It was the ‘son’ that did it. Josie had the urge to fly at Patrick Duffy and claw and bite and kick, but tied to the chair and unable to move, her rage came out in the form of invective as she spat, ‘You!
You
to call
him
son! He’s not your son! A miserable piece of humanity like you is not capable of having a son.’

In her temper she must have hit what was a raw spot with the little Irishman, because he turned on her, his face contorted as he said,
‘Shut up.’

‘You’re scum! You’ve always been scum and everyone knows it but they’re too scared to say anything. The worst of your men are ten times better than you. This house and all the bits in it! Ha! They turned to filth and muck the minute you owned them because you taint everything you come into contact with, with your putrid smell.’

‘Shut up!’
It was high-pitched, almost in the form of a scream, and the sound could have come from a lunatic in the asylum.

On the fringe of her mind Josie could hear Hubert pleading, ‘Don’t say any more, Josie. Don’t say any more,’ but she went on, ‘You’ll burn in hell’s everlasting flames for what you’ve done, Patrick Duffy, and there won’t be a soul up here who will care when you’re gone. Son! Jimmy’s not your son. Me da might not have been much but he was ten times, a hundred times the man you are. Do you hear me? A hundred times the man.’

‘Oh aye?’ Patrick had approached Josie and it was clear he was oblivious to anything and anyone but the figure tied to the chair. His face like the devil’s and his eyes seeming to stare from his head, he said, ‘You think your da was better’n me, then? Eh?
Eh?
Because he sired you, you think he was better’n me, you filthy little upstart you?’

‘Aye, I do. I do.’ Josie was past caution, past anything but the hate consuming her for this man who had ruined her family and set out to destroy all their lives in different ways. ‘At least me da was a man but you’re nowt. Less than nowt.’

‘A man, was he?’ Duffy was crouched so close now Josie could smell nothing but his rank breath as he hissed, ‘He didn’t sound much like a man the night we sliced him. Squealed like a stuck pig so he did, an’ you will an’ all, me fine lady. Oh aye, you will an’ all afore I’m finished with you.’

When Patrick was grabbed from behind and a knife pressed against his throat under his chin he clearly didn’t have the faintest idea why Jimmy was handling him in this way. His eyes popping out of his head, his voice was vacant - in the way a boxer might mumble after coming round from the knockout blow - as he said, ‘Jimmy? Jimmy, man?’

‘Why?’ It was one word and not said loudly, but the tone was such that it caused the other two men to shuffle their feet, their expressions revealing they were stunned by the sudden change in events.

‘You take one step towards us an’ I’ll cut his throat afore I see to you.’ Jimmy had swung Patrick round in front of him as he spoke to the two henchmen. Patrick’s lackeys were not chosen for their intelligence but they were bright enough to know who had the upper hand, and furthermore they were well acquainted with Jimmy’s ruthlessness and knew he meant what he said. They exchanged a bewildered glance but they weren’t about to argue with Jimmy’s gutting knife which they’d seen in action many times before. When Jimmy motioned them into a corner of the cellar they went without demur, watching silently as, under Jimmy’s instructions, Hubert untied Josie before brother and sister went across to the unconscious Oliver and between them began to haul his limp body up the cellar steps, Jimmy and Patrick following them.

‘Jimmy, Jimmy man, listen to me. I had to do it. I didn’t want to but I had to, you know how it is.’ Patrick had been pleading softly and desperately ever since reality had dawned, but apart from keeping the knife to his throat Jimmy had ignored him.

But as they reached the top of the stairs and emerged through into the stone-floored scullery, Jimmy said quietly, ‘Stepped into me da’s boots and found ’em a grand fit, eh, Patrick? Took his life an’ then his sons an’ all? Well, you did a good job, I’ll give you that. Took me for a right ’un. As Hubert’s fond of saying, thought the sun shone out of your backside, me.’

He had slid the bolt on the cellar door as he spoke, locking Patrick’s two men below.

Josie and Hubert were standing panting, Hubert holding Oliver’s upper torso and Josie her husband’s legs, and now she said, ‘What are you going to do, Jimmy?’

Jimmy ignored her, looking instead at Hubert as he said, ‘I should’ve listened to you, little ’un, but at least I can make it right for Da now. I know a nice little spot where me an’ Patrick can . . . discuss exactly how me da died for as long as it takes. Then I’ll disappear. I’ve had a bellyful of this little racket. Like she said, the smell’s gone putrid. Funny, but I’d always seen meself taking over Patrick’s spot one day but now I’d rather cut me own throat than touch anything with his stamp on it.’

‘What’ll you do?’

‘Start somewhere else. I’ll make sure the body isn’t found’ - a small whimper came from Patrick - ‘and his lot’ll be scratchin’ their heads while they divide the plunder. I don’t reckon any of ’em will object over much when they realise me an’ Patrick have disappeared an’ it’s all theirs. Do you?’

Hubert stared into the face of the man who, in his own way, had loved and cared for him all his life. ‘Will I see you again?’

‘I don’t think so, lad. An’ that grieves me.’

‘Jimmy . . .’ Josie spoke again, stammering a little as she said, ‘You can’t . . . you can’t . . . not in cold blood.’

The piercing blue eyes looked at her. ‘Don’t go soft on me now, lass, not after all this, an’ besides,’ he smiled, a cold, hard smile and the resemblance to their father was heightened, ‘I’ve got the knife and I tell you straight, I’ll take down anyone who tries to stop me. I’ve waited a long time to get even with the person who did for Da. Funny, but in the heart of me I think I always knew he had to be dead, even in the early days when I was always lookin’ out for him everywhere I went. Da wouldn’t have gone you see, not without me.’

In spite of the fact that her brother was a fully grown man who had proved himself to be every bit as dangerous and ruthless as any in the criminal fraternity, there had been something pathetic and almost childlike in the way in which he had said the last words.

‘But the police would deal with him, he’d get sent down the line for sure. It doesn’t have to be this way.’

Jimmy didn’t even bother to reply to this last plea from Josie, but jerked his head at his brother, saying, ‘Give me a minute or two an’ then you can leave an’ all, all right? Look after yourself, man, an’ don’t wait too long to start courtin’ Laura or likely she’ll be off with someone else, a bonny lass like that.’

Hubert’s warm blue eyes widened. ‘How did you know? I haven’t said owt to anyone.’

‘You’re me brother, man. I used to wipe your nose an’ your backside an’ all. ’Course I knew.’ And then Jimmy’s voice changed as he said, ‘Move out of the way an’ let me pass, an’ you stay put until me an’ this piece of scum are away.’

‘You can’t let him take me.’ Duffy’s voice was shrill with terror. ‘You can’t.’

‘They’ve no choice, Patrick. Same as you didn’t give me da one, I’ll be bound.’

Jimmy passed them, walking out of the scullery and to the end of the hall near the front door. He opened it and peered outside at the deserted quay before he turned, glancing once more at Hubert who had tears streaming down his face now. ‘By, little ’un,’ he said. And then he and Patrick Duffy were gone.

Josie and Hubert remained where they were for some moments, neither of them feeling they could move, and then they carried Oliver along the hall and out into the fresh air which was already tinged with the subtle glow of dawn on the horizon. Jimmy and Patrick had vanished.

By unspoken mutual consent they lowered Oliver to the ground and Josie sank down beside him, her legs suddenly giving way, whilst Hubert scrubbed at his wet face with his sleeve. Not a word had been spoken but they both gulped at the fresh morning air as though they had been drowning.

It could only have been a minute or two before the sound of running footsteps was heard, and Josie and Hubert both stiffened before relaxing again with relief as Barney and Georgie, hotly followed by Gertie, Prudence and the bulk of Ada and Dora came panting round the corner of the quay.

‘Josie!’ Barney’s voice was hoarse and it didn’t sound like him. ‘Thank God! Are you all right?’ He reached her before the others, kneeling down beside her as he took her cold hands in his warm ones. ‘Have they hurt you?’

She shook her head, knowing if she tried to speak at that precise moment she would cry.

She wasn’t aware she was trembling until Barney put his arm round her and said, ‘It’s all right, it’s all right, it’s over.’

Over. With her brother walking away with murder in his heart and a knife to Patrick Duffy’s throat, and her husband lying on the cobbles as if he was dead? And as though Barney had read her mind, he said softly, ‘Don’t worry about Oliver, you’re safe now and we’ll get him straight to a doctor. He’ll be fine.’

But he wasn’t.

Oliver lingered in the infirmary for a week but never regained consciousness, and on the day of the funeral, those who cared about Josie feared for her mental health. She was blaming herself for Oliver’s death, and nothing anyone said or did could convince her otherwise.

Useless to say the confrontation with Patrick Duffy would have happened one day because the little Irishman would have made sure of it; that the evil shadow of Duffy had been lifted off many lives, not least Hubert’s, allowing folk to live without fear; that Josie playing the Sunderland halls one day had always been a foregone conclusion and would have happened long ago but for the fact of Oliver pressing her to stay in the capital; that what had happened was Fate. Inescapable.

Oliver was dead, and Josie seemed determined to punish herself to the maximum. The funeral was held in London and all Josie’s friends and family from the north-east came down to the capital, but although she spoke politely to them all and thanked them for coming it wasn’t like Josie at all. She never once looked at, or spoke directly to, Barney. He was perhaps the main barbed whip she was scourging herself with and she couldn’t bear to see him in the flesh. Guilt made her voice brittle and her face tight, and the weight was dropping off her in a way that made her sisters and others desperately worried. She had betrayed Oliver. Oh, perhaps not by any physical weakness, she acknowledged bitterly, but Barney had been in her head, her mind, her heart, and now she was reaping retribution. Or rather Oliver had paid the price for her. And with his death there had opened in her a void of hopeless regret, of sorrow and of utter loneliness that no amount of calm logic and comfort from her family and friends could assuage.