Three Letters (35 page)

She added warily, ‘To give ’em their due, the police did root them all out some time ago, but I’ve an idea they’re beginning to filter back of late. It’s not good for business. No, it is not, and I can see I’ll have to have another word.’

Being of staunch character and afraid
of nothing and no one, she bore the carriage and confidence of a woman who knew her way about. Looking to be in her mid-fifties, she would never admit her real age.

She made a striking figure, with her masses of wild red hair and plump but shapely figure. Vaguely visible in the flickering light of the streetlamp, she looked a handsome woman, though some would say she made herself up like a tart,
with her thick eye-liner and luminous pink lipstick, and her long fingernails coated in vivid purple polish.

Yet she was a kindly soul, if a little brutish of manner.

Steve thanked her for being concerned. ‘Two ruffians tried to carry this poor woman into the alley,’ he explained. ‘I was all for calling the police, but the young lady insisted I shouldn’t. She just wanted to get home, and so
here she is. I hope you can persuade her to inform the police,’ he added worriedly. ‘Those scoundrels should not be allowed to get away with what they did.’

‘Good-for-nothing cowards, that’s what they are!’ Concerned, she took a closer look at Ruth. ‘You look a bit ruffled, I must say, but at least you had a lucky escape. Come on, luv, let’s get you inside.’

Questions played on her mind. How
and why did the man come to bring her here? And why should he think this was her home? Also, whatever was she doing, alone in the backstreets at this godforsaken hour. She seemed an attractive young woman despite her lowly appearance.

Relieved when the woman took charge, Ruth was only too willing to let her lead her up the steps and through the front door. ‘I’m worried they might come after me
again,’ she said nervously. ‘I’ve never been so frightened in my life.’

‘If they come anywhere near us, it’ll be the biggest mistake they’ve ever made!’ the landlady promised. ‘Let them try it, and they’ll be off down the alley like a pair o’ scalded cats. I know how to look after myself. Me and my yard broom are a match for them cowards any day!’

Never one to turn away the needy, she opened
her arms to Ruth. ‘You look all shaken up, lass. Come on, I’ll make us a hot drink, while you call the police.’ She noticed that Ruth was not carrying any belongings. ‘Took your things as well, did they? Thieving swines! Careful now, I’ve got you.’

Immensely grateful for their help, Ruth was thankful that this larger-than-life character had unintentionally given Steve the impression that she
was actually living here, exactly as she had wanted him to believe.

Turning to Steve, she thanked him again. ‘I’ll be fine now.’ Discreetly blocking the doorway, she made it difficult for Steve to follow, and even now, she did not look up at him. Instead, she kept her face averted. All she wanted was for him to go away because if he looked at her through honest eyes he might see what she really
was: a woman from the streets; a woman without home, or pride.

Even now, though plagued with guilt, she was not yet ready to fully admit being the instigator of her own downfall, along with a good man’s untimely end, and the abandoning of an innocent boy.

All these years she’d believed herself to be strong, only to discover now that she was pitifully weak and astonishingly gullible. What she
had once seen as her strength she now saw as blatant arrogance.

Those two low-lifes had obviously seen her for what she was, curled up in that doorway. They had seen a tramp, a hussy, a woman of the streets to be used for men’s pleasure. And it was true. She was all of those things, and more.

Even when she’d had a good and decent man looking after her, she couldn’t help but behave like a hussy;
bedding one man after another; often strangers, and all the time trying to recover something special, something she had lost long ago.

For years, she had expected everything and given nothing back. And now, she was amazed at the kindness she had received this night, from complete strangers.

This man had put his own life in danger to rescue her from what would certainly have been a terrible ordeal.
And this big-hearted woman had rushed out to help her, opening her arms and her house to her. Ruth had never known such kindness; except from Tom, and all he’d got for his troubles was pain and rejection.

‘Are you sure you’ll be all right now?’ Steve was relieved that at least he had got her home and safe. ‘Would you like me to come in and call the police … tell them what happened? I really don’t
mind staying with you till they arrive. After all, I believe I was the only witness, and I can describe the ruffians to them.’

‘No!’ Panic set in. ‘No … thank you. You’ve done enough. Please, leave it to me now.’

‘OK. If that’s what you really want.’

‘I do, yes.’

Steve addressed the older woman. ‘Make sure she calls them, will you? She’ll listen to you. This was a terrible business, and they
must not be allowed to get away with what they did.’

Though surprised that he should think she had more influence over the victim than he did, the woman assured him, ‘Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure she calls them. And you’re right, they need to be caught.’

She turned her attention to Ruth. ‘Come on then, lady. Let’s get you settled.’

Ruth smiled at the idea of herself as a ‘lady’.

‘Good night
then …’ Bending his head down, Steve tried to see her face, but she drew away. ‘… I didn’t get your name.’ He suspected she was still in shock after the ordeal.

‘Good night. And thank you again.’ Ever evasive, she kept the exchange to a minimum. ‘I dread to think what might have happened if you hadn’t helped me.’

‘Ah, well, I’m just glad to have been there at the time.’ Respecting her nervousness,
and the reluctance to give out her name, Steve did not ask again, and anyway, now that she was safely home, he was anxious to get back to the hotel. ‘I’d best be away and find my taxi. Don’t forget to tell the police they took your belongings. You never know, it might help track them down.’

He turned away and went quickly down the street, while the landlady closed the door.

Back on Montague
Street, Steve was relieved to see a taxi cruising up and down, as though looking for his fare. ‘Hey … taxi!’ Running after it, he caught the attention of the driver. ‘I think you must be looking for me. King’s Hotel, yes?’

‘That’s right, lad. You’re lucky to find me still here. I was beginning to think I’d got the wrong street.’

When the taxi pulled up to the kerb, Steve jumped in. ‘I’m sorry
if I kept you waiting. Only …’

The driver was shocked as Steve explained what had happened.

‘She’s lucky you were around.’

‘And I’m glad I was.’

Steve thought of the woman. There was something about her that made him curious. He hadn’t noticed so much at the time, but when he now thought back, he recalled how she never once looked up at him. She seemed reluctant to talk, and she certainly
did not want him going inside the house.

But then he reminded himself how she must have suffered at the hands of those men. He imagined she would be haunted by the ordeal for a long time to come.

Also, it was understandable that she had not invited him into her home. After all, and in spite of his timely intervention, he was just another stranger.

‘Let’s just hope you don’t find any more damsels
in distress, eh?’ the driver interrupted his thoughts.

‘That’s right. I reckon I’ve done my knight in shining armour for now.’

Conversation over, the driver said no more, and after the night he’d experienced, Steve was thankful to sit quiet and enjoy the ride.

He hoped by now that his niece, Susie, was fast and hard asleep.

Inside the boarding house, the buxom landlady duly
tended to the deep bruises on Ruth’s ankles. ‘Wicked swines! They should be locked up.’ She had plenty to say on the matter.

Ruth had to smile; not only was this woman colourful in character and appearance, she also had an endearing attitude.

While the landlady worked on her bruises, Ruth found her thoughts returning to the man who had rescued her and brought her back here. ‘I never even got
his name.’

‘Whose name is that, then?’

‘The man who chased them away and saved me from something I daren’t even think about …’ She envisaged her attackers fleeing. ‘No one else has ever done anything like that for me … except you.’ She added, ‘And I do appreciate your help, I really do.’

‘Where do you live?’

The landlady was concerned that the young woman should be with her family. ‘We’ll
get you cleaned up, then I’d best call the police. After you’ve told them what happened, I’m sure they’ll be only too pleased to take you home.’

Having bathed and cleaned and finally applied a soothing ointment to Ruth’s ankles, she gathered the flannel and bowl, and scrambled clumsily to her feet. ‘There! How are your ankles now?’

Having seen the torn skin on Ruth’s ankles and lower legs, she
could only imagine the rough treatment she’d received; and it made her sick to her stomach.

‘I feel much better now, thank you.’ The two men had not only hurt her, but they had taken pleasure in it. The big man had gripped her ankles so tightly, she had hardly been able to move them, and when for that split second she managed to wriggle them from his tight grip, he dug his nails into her flesh,
causing more pain.

Also, her mouth and jaw were still hurting where the other culprit had clamped his fist over her face to keep her from screaming out.

Even now, although she was safe enough here, her sense of terror lingered.

‘I’ll make us each a mug of cocoa,’ the older woman said. ‘It might help you relax.’ She could see how upset the young woman was, by the haunted look in her eyes, and
by the way she constantly clenched and unclenched her fists. On passing, she brushed her hand against Ruth’s shoulder. ‘It’s all over now,’ she told her. ‘You should try and relax.’

Smiling over her shoulder, Ruth nodded; and her hostess went away to make the cocoa, a satisfied little smile on her face.

In no time at all, she was back again, carrying two steaming mugs. ‘I never asked … what’s
your name?’

‘Ruth.’

‘And I’m Marilyn Parker.’ She sniggered proudly. ‘Marilyn after Marilyn Monroe and Parker after the bloke I married.

‘He works away most o’ the time. He’s a lorry driver. One time, he went away for a week … got home in the early hours and climbed into bed alongside me.’ Grinning, she rolled her eyes to heaven. ‘I’m telling you, we were at it for hours. He’d missed me … or
that was what he said; until I found out later he’d given me the dreaded clap. Got it from some woman who climbed on his running board when he was asleep in the lorry. She offered to “keep him company” and he couldn’t say no, and that’s how he got the clap and passed it on to me. It goes without saying, I banned him from my bed for a month, only I missed him more than he missed me, so I let him
back in after two nights.’

She made a painful grimace. ‘The pair of us went to the doctor together. Embarrassing, it was, but I made sure the doctor knew who was to blame. I swear, if he ever goes with another woman again, I’ll chop his dufer clean off!’

When Marilyn laughed a raucous laugh, Ruth couldn’t help but laugh with her. Truth was, she had taken a real liking to this wonderful, outrageous
woman.

In more serious mood, Marilyn placed a mug of cocoa into Ruth’s open hands, before sitting opposite with her own. ‘If you’re determined not to call the police, we really ought to let your family know where you are,’ she advised. ‘There’s a phone in the hallway. I can call them, if you’d rather not.’

‘NO!’ Ruth began to panic. ‘No! You can’t! I don’t want them worried. I’ll be all right.
There’s no need for them to know.’

The older woman nodded knowingly. ‘You don’t want me to call them, so I won’t. But I’d like you to tell me the real reason why you don’t want to call anyone, not even the police.’ She was more concerned than curious.

Ruth’s heart sank. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Oh, I think you do.’ Watching Ruth closely, she chided, ‘I haven’t got to this age without
learning to recognise a downright lie when I hear it.’ She gave Ruth an encouraging smile. ‘But if you’d rather not be honest with me, that’s up to you.’

Sensing her suspicions, Ruth said, ‘I’m sorry, but I’m grateful to you, really I am.’

‘But you don’t feel you can trust me, is that it?’

Ruth slowly nodded. ‘Yes … I mean, I don’t know.’

‘Tell me, Ruth, why did that man bring you to my door,
rather than take you home?’

‘Because I led him to believe that this is where I live.’

‘I see. But why did you do that? I’m sure he would have taken you home, wherever you lived.’

Sipping her cocoa, she gave Ruth time to think about her answer.

‘I brought him here because I was sleeping in your porch when those men found me. And because … well, because … I don’t have a home. Or a family.’ Afraid
of what the future held, a sense of loss and desolation swamped her.