PartI
ChapterOne
January 1931
Adelehadastitchfromrunningbythetimeshereached EustonRoad.ShewaslateforcollectingPamela,hereightyear-oldsister,fromherpianolessonontheothersideof thebusymainroad.Asidefromthedarknessandtheusual sixo’clockheavytraffic,crossingtheroadwasmadeeven morehazardousbythelumpsofblackenediceinthegutters fromafallofsnowafewdayspreviously.
AdeleTalbotwastwelve–small,thin,pale-facedand waif-likeinawornadulttweedcoatmanysizestoolargefor her,woollensocksfallentoheranklesandaknittedpixie hoodcoveringherstragglybrownhair.Yetdespiteherstill tenderyears,therewasanadultexpressionofanxietyinher wide,greenish-browneyesasshehoppedfromfoottofoot impatientlywatchingforabreakinthetraffic.Herfather wassupposedtohavecollectedPamelaonhiswayhome fromworkbutheforgot,andAdelewasfrightenedthather littlesistermighthavegottiredofwaitingforhimandset off forhomeonherown.
Poisedonthekerb,pantingfromherrun,shesuddenly spottedPamelathroughthetraffic.Therewasnomistaking her–thestreetlightspickedupherlongblondehairandher vividredcoat.ToAdele’sdismayshewasn’tjustwaiting either,buthoveringonthekerb,asifintendingtocrosson herown.
‘Staythere!’Adeleyelledout,wavingherarmsfrantically. ‘Waitforme.’
Severalmorebusescamepastinclosesuccession,preventingAdelefromseeingwhathersisterwasdoing,and suddenlytherewasanominoussquealofbrakes.
Heartinmouth,Adeledartedoutbetweenabusanda lorry.Asshereachedthecentreoftheroadherworstfears wererealized:herlittlesisterwaslyingcrumpledonthe groundbetweenacarandataxi.
Adelescreamed.Allthetrafficstoppedabruptly,steam risinglikesmokefromthebonnetsofcars.Pedestrians halted,gaspinginshockedhorror;everyonewaslookingat thesmallmoundintheroad.
‘Pamela!’Adeleyelledoutassherantoher,terror,disbelief andabsolutehorrorenvelopingher.Thetaxidriver,abig manwithafatbelly,hadgotoutofhiscabandwasnow staringdownatthechildbetweenhisfrontwheels.‘Shejust ranout!’heexclaimed,lookingroundwildlyforassistance. ‘Icouldn’thelpit.’
PeoplewerealreadycrowdingaroundandAdelehadto pushandshovetogetthroughthem.‘Don’ttouchher,luv,’ someonesaidwarninglyasshefinallygotrightintothecircle andcroucheddownbesidehersister.
‘She’smylittlesister,’Adelegasped,tearsstreamingdown herwind-whippedcheeks.‘She’ssupposedtowaituntilshe’s met.Willshebeallright?’
YetevenasAdeleaskedthequestion,shesensedthat Pamelawasalreadydead.Herblueeyeswereopenwide,her expressionstartled,buttherewasnomovementorsound, notevenagrimaceofpain.
Adeleheardsomeonesayanambulancehadbeencalled andamansteppedforward,feltPamela’spulseandremoved hiscoattoplaceitoverher.Butheshookhisheadashedid so.That,andthestrickenfacesofeveryonegatheredround, confirmedherfears.
Shewantedtoscream,topummelthetaxidriverresponsible.Yetatthesametimeshecouldn’tbelievePamela’slife wasover.Everyonehadlovedher,shewassobrightand funny,andshewastooyoungtodie.
Leaningoverhersister,AdelesmoothedPamela’shair
backfromherfaceandsobbedouthershockandheartbreak. Awomaninafurhattookholdofherroundherwaist anddrewheraway.‘Wheredoyoulive,sweetheart?’she asked,holdinghertightlyagainstherchestandmakinga comfortingrockingmovement.‘Areyourmumanddadat home?’
Adeledidn’tknowhowshereplied,allshewasawareof inthatmomentwastheraspofthewoman’scoatagainst hercheek,andthefeelingshewasgoingtobesick.
Butshemusthaveansweredherquestionsbeforeshe brokefreetovomitbythekerb,forlater,afterthearrivalof theambulanceandthepolice,sheheardthesamewoman informingthemthatthesisterofthechildwhohadbeenrun overwasAdeleTalbotandshelivedat 47 CharltonStreet.
Yetinthetimeuntilthepoliceandtheambulancearrived, Adelewasn’tawareofthefacesofthosearoundher,what theysaidtoher,oreventhebitingcoldwind.Shefeltonly herownanguish,sawonlythegoldenglowofstreetlights pickingoutPamela’sblondehairflutteringinthewindon theblack,wetroad,andheardonlythenoiseofcarhorns honkingimpatiently.
EustonbelongedtoherandPamela.Maybetoothersit wasthedirtyanddangeroushubofLondonwhichpeople wereforcedtopassthroughontheirwaytoothersaferand moreattractivepartsofthecity,buttoAdeleithadalways feltasharmlessasapark.CharltonStreetwasrightbetween EustonandStPancras,andtherailwaystationswerelikeher personaltheatres,thepassengerscharactersinadrama.She wasalwaystakingPamelaintothem,particularlywhenitwas coldorwet,andshewouldmakeupstoriesaboutthepeople theysawtheretoentertainher.Awomaninafurcoat, trippingalongsideaportercarryingherbigsuitcases,wasa countess.Ayoungcouplekissingpassionatelywereeloping. Sometimestheysawchildrentravellingalonewithalabel pinnedtotheircoat,andAdelewouldmakeupsomefantastic
adventurestoryinvolvingwickedstepmothers,castlesin Scotlandandtreasurechestsfullofmoney.
Athometherewasalwaysanatmosphere.Theirmother wouldsitforhoursinsullensilence,barelyacknowledging herchildrenorherhusband’spresence.Shehadalwaysbeen thesame,soAdelejustacceptedit,buthadlearnedtoread thedangersignswhichprecededtheeruptionsofwildrage andgotherselfandPamelaoutofthereasquicklyaspossible. Theseragescouldbeterrifying,fortheirmotherwouldfling anythingthatcametohand,screamabuseandmoreoften thannotlashoutatAdele.
Adeletriedtoconvinceherselfthatthereasonthefullforce ofhermother’sangerwasalwaysdirectedather,ratherthan Pamela,wasjustbecauseshewastheelder.Butdeepdownshe knewitwasbecauseMumhatedherforsomereason.
Pamelahadsensedittoo,andshehadalwaystriedto makeupforit.Ifshegotanymoneyfromtheirmothershe alwaysshareditwithAdele.Whenshegothernewredcoat forChristmasshe’dbeenembarrassedbecauseAdelehadn’t gotonetoo.Inherlittlewayshe’ddoneherbesttomake amends.Withhersunnysmile,hergenerosityandsenseof fun,PamelahadmadeAdele’slifebearable.
Now,asshestoodtherecryinghelplessly,wantingan adulttoputtheirarmsaroundherandreassureherPamela wasn’tdead,merelyunconscious,Adelewasalltooaware thatifhersisterwasreallygoneforgood,thenshemightas wellbedeadtoo.
AburlyyoungpolicemantookAdele’shandasPamelawas liftedintotheambulance.Astheylaidheronthestretcher, theyputtheblanketrightoverherface;unspokenconfirmationthatshewasreallydead.
‘I’msosorry,’thepolicemansaidgently,thenbentdown sohisfacewasonherlevel.‘I’mPCMitchell,’hewenton. ‘MeandtheSergeantwilltakeyouhomeinaminute,we
havetotellyourmumanddadabouttheaccident,andget youtotellusexactlywhathappened.’
ItwasonlythenthatAdelebecameafraidforherself. Fromthemomentshe’dheardthesquealofcarbrakes,her mindhadbeencentredentirelyonPamela.Allherthoughts andemotionsweresingle-track,nothingelseexistedbuther sister’slittlebodyonthegroundandwhattheyweretoeach other.Butatthementionofherparents,Adelewassuddenly terrified.
‘Ic-c-can’tgohome,’sheblurtedout,clutchingthepoliceman’shandinfear.‘They’llsayitwasmyfault.’
‘Ofcoursetheywon’t,’PCMitchellsaiddisbelievingly, andrubbedhercoldhandinhistwobigones.‘Accidents likethiscanhappentoanyone,you’reonlyakidyourself.’
‘IfI’djustbeenabitquicker,’shesobbedout.Hisbig kindlyfacefullofconcernforherwasonlyafurtherreminder ofhowlittleherparentscaredforher.‘Iranalltheway,but shewasalreadybytheroadwhenIgotuphere.’
‘Yourmumanddadwillunderstand,’hesaid,andpatted hershoulder.
Theambulancedroveoff then,andthecrowdbeganto disperse.Onlythetaxidriverwaslefttalkingtothetwo policemenasAdelewaited.Everythingwentbacktonormal soquickly,carsnowdrivingovertheveryspotwherePamela hadlainjustminutesbefore,theonlookersfadingawayto gotothepub,catchabusorbuytheeveningpaper.For themitwasjustanincident,asadonemaybe,buttheywould haveforgottenitbeforetheyevenreachedtheirhomes.
Adelehadbeenawarerightfromwhenshewasverysmall thatEustonwasaplaceofhugeinequality.Thestations, thosevastandmagnificentbuildings,presidedoverthe neighbourhoodliketoweringcathedrals,employinghundredsofpeople.Thosewealthyenoughtotravelreliedon thelaboursofthepoortomaketheirjourneyscomfortable andenjoyable.
Therailwayworkerslivedinthemean,dirtystreetsaround thestation.Aportermightknowthetimesofeverysingle train,eachstopandhaltfromLondontoEdinburgh,andhe wouldstrainhisbackandarmseachdaycarryingheavy luggage.Yethewouldnevervisitanyofthoseplaceswhose namestrippedoff histonguesoeffortlessly.Ifhemanaged totakehiswifeandchildrenforadayattheseasidehe’d considerhimselffortunate.Likewise,themaidwhochanged thebedsinthesmarthotelswherethetravellersstayed probablyhadnosheetsonherownbed,letaloneanindoor lavatoryorarealbath.
Adelehadsooftenwatchedtherichcollidewiththepoor aroundhere.Anelegantladyinafoxfurbuyingflowers fromaraggedoldsoldierwithonlyoneleg.Agentlemanin agleamingcarsignallingimpatientlyforthedwarfwhosold newspaperstobringhimone.Adeleknewthedwarflivedin anarchwayundertherailway.Shehadseentheoldsoldier doff hiscapandsmileathiscustomerseventhoughhewas frozenwiththecoldandtotteringonhiscrutches.Whenthe businesspeoplelefttheirofficestogohometotheleafy suburbs,outcamethepoortocleanupafterthem.
YetAdelehadalwaysvowedtoPamelathattherewas somethingbetterinstoreforthem.Shehadspunherstories ofthemlivinginaposhpartofLondon,andhowoneday they’dvisitallthosedestinationstheysawonboardsinthe stations.Butnow,asshewaitedtogohome,withouther sister,allthosedreamsandambitionsweregoneforgood.
Thetaxidrivergotintohiscab,andforamomenthelooked atAdeleasifwantingtosaysomethingtoher.Butmaybe hewastooshakenhimselftospeak,andhedroveoff asthe twopolicemencamebacktoher.
‘It’stimetogonow,’PCMitchellsaid.Then,takingher handfirmlyinhis,heledheroff towardsthepolicecar.
Adelehadneverbeeninacarbefore,butjustthatwasa
furtherpainfulreminderofPamela.Herfavouritegamehad beentoputtwochairsonebehindtheothertomakean imaginarycarinwhichshewasalwaysthedriver,andAdele thepassengerwhodecidedwheretogo.
TheTalbotshadthreesmallroomsonthetopfloorofa terracedhouseinCharltonStreet.TheManningslived beneaththemwiththeirfourchildren,thePattersonsand theirthreechildrenonthegroundfloor.
Asinmostofthestreetsinthearea,thefrontdooropened straightontothepavement,butunlikemostoftheothers thehousewasoccupiedbyonlythreefamiliesandhadthe luxuryofasharedbathroomandinsidelavatory.
Thefrontdoorwasshutbecauseitwassocold,andAdele putherhandthroughtheletterboxandpulledoutthekey. Shelookedbackatthepolicemenbeforesheusedit.The youngerone,whohadsaidhewastakingherhomeand introducedhimselfasPCMitchell,wasblowingonhis fingerstowarmthem.Theolderone,whomMitchellhad calledSarge,wasstandingfurtherbackfromthehouse, lookingup.Theybothlookedapprehensive,andthatmade Adeleevenmorefrightened.
Astheymountedthestairstothetopflat,Adelesawthe buildingasthepolicemenmustandfeltashamed.Itwasso dirtyandsmelly,barewoodonthestairsandthedistemper onthewallssooldithadnorealcolour.Asalwaystherewas agreatdealofnoise,theMannings’babyyellingbluemurder andtheotherchildrenshoutingoverthetopofit.
Thedoortothetopflatwasflungopenbeforethey reachedit,presumablybecauseherparentshadheardthe soundofmen’sfeetonthestairs.Adele’smother,Rose, lookeddownatthem,herfacecontortingwhenshesawthe uniformedmenandAdele.‘Where’sPammy?’sheburstout. ‘Don’ttellmesomething’shappenedtoher?’
Adelehadalwaysthoughtofhermotherasbeautiful,even whenshewasmiserableandnasty.Yetinthatmoment,with
thelightfromthelivingroombehindher,shesawherasshe reallywas.Notagolden-hairedbeautywithanhour-glass figure,butatired,wornwomanofthirty,withasagging body,muddycomplexionandbedraggledhair.Thepinafore sheworeoverherskirtandjumperwasstainedandtorn, andherslippers,browncheckedones,hadholesinthetoes.
‘Canwecomein,MrsTalbot?’thesergeantaskedher. ‘Yousee,there’sbeenanaccident.’
Roseletoutaterribleshriek,takingAdelebysurprise. Hermouthjustdroppedopenandoutcamethenoiselikea runawaytrain.
AllatonceDadwastheretoointhedoorway,demanding toknowwhatwasgoingon,andallthewhileAdeleandthe policemenwerestillstandingonthestairs,anddownbelow peoplewereopeningdoorstoseewhatwasgoingon.
‘She’sdead,isn’tshe?’hermotherscreamed,hereyes closinguptilltheywerejusttwoslits.‘Whodidit?Howdid ithappen?’
Thepolicemenalmostpushedtheirwayintotheflatthen, PCMitchellnudgingAdeleinaheadofhim.Theroomwas bothkitchenandlivingroom.Itsmelledoffryingandthe washingdryingroundthefire,andthetablewaslaidfortea. ThesergeantmadeRosesitdowninanarmchairandhe gentlybegantoexplainwhathadhappened.
‘ButwherewasAdele?Shewassupposedtocollecther,’ Roseinterrupted,lookingdaggersatherelderdaughter.‘Why didsheletPammyrunacrosstheroad?’
Adelehadexpectedtobeblamed,purelybecauseshe alwayswas,whateverwentwrong.Yetasmallpartofher hadclungtothehopethatwithsomethingasawfulasthis, theusualsystemwouldbebypassed.
‘Iranallthewaytogether,butshewasalreadytryingto crossEustonRoadwhenIgotthere,’Adelesaidfrantically, tearsrunningdownherface.‘Icalledoutforhertostop,but Idon’tthinkshesaworheardme.’
‘Andshewashitbyacar?’Roseasked,lookingupatthe sergeant,hereyesbeggingtobetoldthiswasn’tso.‘Andshe waskilled?MybeautifulPammyisdead?’
Thesergeantnodded,lookingtoJimTalbotforhelp.But hewasslumpedinhischair,hishandsoverhisface.
‘MrTalbot.’Thesergeanttouchedhimontheshoulder. ‘Wearesosorry.Anambulancearrivedwithinminutes,but itwastoolate.’
Adelewatchedherdadtakehishandsfromhisface.He lookedtowardsherandforabriefmomentshethoughthe wasgoingtobeckontohertocometohimforcomfort.But insteadhisfacecontortedintoascowl.‘Toolate,’heroared out,andpointedhisfingerather.‘Youweretoolateto collectPammy,andnowshe’sdeadbecauseyouweretoo bloodyidletogetamoveon.’
‘Comeon!’thesergeantsaidreprovingly.‘Itwasn’tAdele’s fault,shewasn’ttoknowPamelawouldtrytocrosstheroad alone.Itwasanaccident.Don’tblameher,she’sonlyachild herself,andshe’sinshock.’
Adeleremainedstandingbythedoor,toostunnedand strickeneventofindaseat.Shefeltshehadnobusinessto bethere,likeaneighbourwho’dcomeintoborrowsome sugarandwouldn’tleave.
Thisfeelinggrewevenstrongerasthetwopolicementried tocomfortherparents,callingthemRoseandJimasifthey hadknownthemalongtime.PCMitchellmadeapotoftea andpouredit;thesergeantpickedupaphotoofPamela fromthemantelpieceandremarkedwhataprettygirlshe was.Herfathercuddledhermothertohimandboth policementuttedinsympathyastheyweretoldhowclever Pamelawas.
ButnooneturnedtoAdele,notafterthesergeanthad givenheracupoftea.Itwasasthoughshe’dbecome invisibletoeveryone.
Maybesheonlystoodthereforfiveortenminutes,butit
seemedlikeforever.Itfeltasthoughshewaswatchinga playandwashiddenfromtheactors’viewbythespotlights. Shecouldsee,hearandfeeltheirshockandgrief,butthey werecompletelyoblivioustoherpain.
Shesomuchwantedsomeonetoholdherintheirarms, totellheritwasnotherfaultandthatPamelahadbeentold dozensoftimesthatshewasnevertocrossEustonRoad alone.
AfterabitAdelesatdownonasmallstoolbythedoor andputherheadonherknees.Theadultsallhadtheirbacks toher,andeventhoughsheknewthiswasmostlybecause ofhowthechairswerearranged,itfeltdeliberate.While Adelecouldagreewholeheartedlywitheverythingthatwas saidabouthersister,howshewaslikedbyeveryone,topof theclass,asunnylittlegirlwhohadspecialqualities,itseemed toherthatherparentswerepointingoutthathereldersister wasjusttheopposite,anditwasunjustthatsheshouldbe theonetheywereleftwith.
Thetalkingandcryingwentonandon,roundandround. Rosewouldgethysterical,thencalmherselftorelateyet anotherinstancewhenPamelawasextraspecial,thenJim wouldbuttinwithhisviews.Andinbetweenherparents’ voicestherewerethetwopolicemen’scalm,measuredtones. YoungandinexperiencedasAdelewas,shecouldsensetheir skillatdealingwithgrief,maintainingjusttherightamount ofinterest,careandsympathy,yetgraduallytryingtobring thecoupletothepointwheretheywouldaccepttheir daughterwasdead.
Whileshewastouchedtheyhadenoughcompassionto dothis,asmallpartofherverymuchwishedshedaredpoint outtothemthatJimTalbot’sfavouritewordstobothhis daughtershadalwaysbeen‘Shutup,can’tyou.’Thathewas theonewhowassupposedtocollectPamela,andforgot. Shealsowonderedifthepolicemenwouldbeassympathetic toRoseiftheyknewshewasmostlytoomorosetogetout
ofbedinthemornings.AdelehadalwaysgivenPamelaher breakfastandtakenhertoschool.
‘WouldyoulikeustotakeyoutoseePamela?’thesergeant askedsometimelater.Rosewasstillcryinghelplessly,but notinthehystericalwayshehadbeenearlier.‘Shehastobe formallyidentified,anditmighthelpyoutoseethatshedied instantlyandthattherearenovisibleinjuries.’
Adelehadremainedsilentlyonherstoolallthistime,lost inhermisery,butwhensheheardthatquestionshecameto withajolt.‘CanIcometoo?’sheaskedimpulsively.
Allfouradultfacesturnedtoher.Bothpolicemenlooked merelysurprised,theyhadclearlyforgottenshewasstillin theroom.ButherparentslookedaffrontedatAdele’srequest.
‘Why,youlittleghoul,’hermotherexploded,gettingup asiftostrikeher.‘Itisn’tafreakshow.Ourbabyisdead becauseofyou.’
‘Now,now,Rose,’thesergeantsaid,movingbetween motheranddaughter.‘Adeledidn’tmeanitlikethat,I’m sure.She’supsettoo.’
SergeantMikeCottonwishedhewasanywherebut 47 CharltonStreet.Intwenty-oddyearsofpoliceservicehe’dbeen calledhundredsoftimestoinformnextofkinofadeath, anditwasalwaysapainfulduty.Yetwhenitwasachild’s deathitwasahideoustask,fortherewerenowordsthat couldsoothethepain,nothingthatcouldjustifyahealthy childbeingcutdownwithoutwarning.Butthiswasoneof theworstcaseshe’dknown,forthemomentRoseTalbot openedthedoor,andAdeledidn’trushintoherarms,he knewtherewassomethingbadlywrongwithinthefamily.
Allthetimehewasexplaininghowtheaccidenthappened, hehadbeenveryawareofAdelestillstandingbythedoor. Hesomuchwantedtocallherover,sitheronhiskneeand comforther,butthatshouldhavebeenthefather’sjob.Just asitshouldhavebeenhimwhowenttocollecthissmall
daughteronadark,coldJanuarynight.EustonRoadwas notthesortofareaanyyounggirlshouldbeoutinalone. Everykindofscumhungaroundthere–beggars,prostitutes andtheirpimps,menlookingforawoman,thieveswatching outforanyonetorob.
MikehadtoadmitthattheTalbotswereaslightcutabove mostoftheirneighboursinthisstreet.Heknewfamiliesof eightortencrowdedintooneroom,wheresurvivaldepended onthemotherbeingwilyandstrongenoughtowrenchsome moneyforfoodfromherhusband’shandsbeforehespent hiswagesinthepub.Heknewothersthatrootedaboutin filthlikeanimals,andsomewherethemotherturnedthe kidsoutintothestreetsatnightwhilesheearnedmoneyto feedthemlyingonherback.
TheTalbots’flatmightbeshabbybutitwascleanand warm,andaneveningmealwasprepared.JimTalbotwas stillinworktoo,despitethefinancialdepressionwhichwas slowlystranglingthecountry.
MikethoughtthatRoseTalbotwasalmostcertainlyfrom middle-classstock:shespokecorrectEnglishevenifitwas pepperedwithLondonslang,andshehadarefinedmanner. Hehadnotedthatdespitehisshockingnews,shehadstill quicklyremovedherpinaforeandrunherfingersthrough heruntidyhair,asifashamedofbeingcaughtunprepared forvisitors.Herskirtandjumperwereclearlyfromamarket stall,yetthesubduedshadeofblueenhancedherlovelyeyes andgaveherasurprisinglystylishair.
Jim,incontrast,wasfromthebottomofthesocialscale. Althoughtallandslender,hehadthatgive-awaystoopand awkwardnesswhichalwaysseemedtogowithproductsof Londonslums.HisLondonaccenthadakindofnasal whinetoit,andwithhisbadteeth,thinningsandyhairand washed-outblueeyes,helookedprematurelymiddle-aged, eventhoughhewasjustthirty-two.Hewasn’tthebrightest ofmeneither,forwhenMikehadaskedhimhowsecurehis
jobwas,hedidn’tappeartounderstandthequestion.Why wouldanattractiveandwell-bredwomanlikeRosemarrya manlikeJim?
Yetiftheparentswereillmatched,therewasaneven greaterdisparitybetweenhowtheyfeltabouttheirtwo children.TherewereseveralphotographsofPamelaon displayonthesideboard,andoneofherpaintingspinned onthewall,buttherewasnothingofAdele.Mikehadnoticed thatPamelahadbeenwearingagoodwarmcoat,shehad mittensonherhands,andshewasprettilyplump.Adele,in contrast,wasverythinandpasty-facedandhercoatwasan oldadulthand-me-down.Thecoatwasn’tnecessarilyhers, itcouldbethatshehadgrabbedhermother’storunoutin. Buthedidn’tthinkso,forlookingatAdelenowundera brightlight,sheseemedmalnourished.Herstringy,mousy hairhadnoshinetoit,andhernavyblueschoolgymslip, likethecoat,wasfartoobigforher.
Herappearancemeantlittleinanareawheretherewere hundredsofgirlsofasimilarageevenmoreshabbilydressed andillfed.YetMikewasprettycertainthatalltheirmothers, eventhosewhoweredrunkensluts,wouldbeunableto ignoreachildsoobviouslyinneedofalittlecomfortand tenderness.
Thegirlhadjustwitnessedsomethingeventhemost hardenedpolicemanwouldwanttoweepover,sosurely Rose,howevertraumatized,couldmanagetoputherown emotionsonholdlongenoughtoreachoutforherelder child?
Adelefeltasenseofreliefwhenherparentsfinallyleftwith thepolicemen,orderinghertobed.Butthemomentshe wentintotheicy-coldbedroomandsawthebedshehad alwayssharedwithPamela,shebegantocryagain.Shewas neveragaingoingtofeelhersister’swarmlittlebodysnuggled uptightagainsther,gonewerethewhisperednight-time
conversations,thegigglingandallthelittleconfidences. She’dlosttheonlypersonshecouldalwayscountonfor affection.
Shecouldn’treallyrememberanythingbeforePamelawas born.Thefarthestbackhermindcouldstretchwastoa pram,toobigforhertopush,andthecot,withababyinit whichshehadthoughtmuchbetterthanadoll.Theyhad livedsomewhereelsethen,abasementflatshethought,but shecouldremembermovingintothisplace,becausePamela wasjustbeginningtowalkandshehadtowatchshedidn’t trytogodownthestairs.
Dozensofmemoriescamefloodingbackasshelay scrunchedupinaball,shiveringandcrying.Ofpushing Pamelaontheswings,drawingpicturesforher,tellingher storiesandteachinghertoskipoutontheroad.
ShehadalwaysknownMumandDadlikedPamelamore thanher.Theylaughedwhenshesaidwrongwords,theylet herintobedwiththem,shegotlargerhelpingsoffood. Pamelahardlyevergotsecondhandclothesandshoes,and Adeleneverhadnew.
Pamela’spianolessonsweretheonlythingAdelehadever feltjealousabout.She’dacceptedalltheotherunfairness becausePamelawasthebabyofthefamily,andsheloved hertoo.Butthepianowasdifferent–Pamelahadnever showntheslightestinterestinplayinganyinstrument.She saidshewantedtodance,torideahorseandswim,but didn’tcareaboutmusic.Adeledid,andalthoughshe’dnever daredaskoutrightforlessons,she’dhintedaboutthem hundredsoftimes.
AdeleknewonlytoowellthatEnglandwasinthegripof somethingcalleda‘Slump’.Everyweekthequeuesofmen lookingforworkgrewlongerandlonger.Adelehadseena soupkitchenopeninKing’sCross,familiesdownthestreet beingturnedoutoftheirhomesbecausetheycouldn’tpay therent.Herfathermightstillbeinwork,butsheknewhe
toomightlosehisjobatanytime,soofcourseshedidn’t reallyexpectaluxurylikepianolessons.
ThenoutofthebluehermotherannouncedthatPamela wastogotoMrsBellinginCartwrightGardensforlessons everyThursdayafternoon.
Adeleknewthiswastospiteher,forwhatotherreason wastherewhenPameladidn’twanttogo?Onlyacoupleof weeksagoshe’dtoldAdeleshereallyhatedthelessonsand thatMrsBellinghadsaiditwaspointlessteachingherwhen shedidn’thaveapianoathometopractiseon.Nowshewas deadbecauseofit.
Adeleheardherparentscomebacklater.Shecouldhear theirvoices,ifnotwhattheyweresaying,andhermother’s alternatedbetweenakindofsobbingsorrowandawhineof bitterness.Herfather’swasmoreconstant,anangryrasp, nowandthenpunctuatedbyathumponthetablewith hisfist.
Adeleguessedtheyweredrinking,andthatwasevenmore worrying,foritusuallymadethemargue.Shewantedtoget upandgotothelavatory,butshedidn’tdareforitmeant goingthroughthelivingroom.
Shewonderedifshewouldbeexpectedtogotoschool inthemorning.Mostchildrensheknewwerekepthome whentherewasadeathintheirfamily,butthenhermother wasn’tlikeothergirls’mothers.
SometimesAdelefeltproudofthedifferences,forinmany respectsRoseTalbotwassuperior.Shelookedafterher appearance,shedidn’tshoutorswearoutinthestreetlike somanyoftheirneighbours.Shekepttheflatcleanandtidy, andtherewasalwaysahotdinnereverynight,notbreadand drippinglikesomanyotherchildrenroundheregot.
ButAdelewould’vepreferredmessifitmadehermother happyandaffectionate,thewayothermotherswere.She rarelylaughed,shedidn’tevenchatter,sheneverwantedto
gooutanywhere,noteventoRegent’sParkinthesummer. Itwasasthoughshechosetobemiserablebecauseitwasa goodwaytospoilthingsforeveryoneelse.
EventuallyAdeleknewshe’dhavetogotothelavatory, orshe’dwetthebed.Sheopenedthedoorveryquietly, hopingagainsthopeshecouldjustslipoutdownthestairs withoutbeingnoticed.
‘Whatdoyouwant?’Rosesnappedather.
Adeleexplainedandwentstraightoutofthefrontdoor beforeanythingfurthercouldbesaid.
Withjusthernightdressandbarefeet,itwasfreezingon thestairs.Thelavatorysmelledbadagainanditmadeher heave.MumwasalwaysmoaningaboutMrsManningnever takingaturntocleanit,infactshethoughtsheshoulddoit twiceasoftenasshehadtwiceasmanychildren.Inthelast rowaboutit,MrsManningthreatenedtoknockMum’sblock off.Shesaidshewasastuck-upcowwhothoughtherown shitdidn’tstink.
Asshegotbackintotheflatagain,Adelehesitated.Her parentsweresittingeithersideofthefireinthearmchairs, bothwithadrinkintheirhands,andtheylookedsosadshe feltshehadtosaysomething.
‘I’mreallysorryIcouldn’tgetuptherequicker,’she blurtedout.‘Ididrunalltheway.’
Herfatherlookedroundfirst.‘Itcouldn’tbe’elped,’he saidsadly.
ForonebriefsecondAdelethoughtthey’dbothcome round,butshewasbadlymistaken.Withoutanywarningan emptybeerbottlecamehurtlingather,catchingheronthe forehead,thenfallingtothefloorandsmashingonthelino. ‘Getoutofmysight,youlittlebastard,’hermotherscreamed. ‘Ineverwantedyou,andnowyou’vekilledmybaby.’
ChapterTwo
‘Idon’twantheratthefuneral,’RoseTalbotsnappedather husband.
Alarmed,Jimlookedupfromcleaninghisshoes.Hehad anticipatedRosemightstartshoutingathimforcleaning themonthetable,sohe’dputnewspaperdownfirst.Buthe hadn’tforonemomentexpectedthatwithlessthantwo hourstogotothefuneral,shewouldfindsomethingfurther tobedifficultabout.
‘Why?’Jimaskednervously.‘Becauseshe’stooyoung?’ RosehadbeenmakinghimverynervouseversincePamela’s death.Hergriefheunderstood–mostdayshewishedhe coulddietooandberidofthisterribleacheinsidehim. Havingtowaittwoweeksforacoroner’sreportbeforethe funeralhadmadeitevenworse,stringingoutthemisery,but hedidn’tunderstandwhyshewasbeingsosavagetoAdele.
‘Ifyouwanttotelleveryoneelseit’sbecauseshe’stoo young,doso,’Roseretorted,flouncingawayacrosstheliving room.‘Butit’snotthereason.Ijustdon’twantherthere.’
‘Nowlookhere,’Jimbegan,thinkinghemustbetough andstopallthisbeforeitgotoutofhand.‘Pammywasher sister,sheoughttobethere.Peoplewilltalk.’
Roseturnedandgavehimalong,coldstare.‘Letthem.I don’tcare,’shesaiddefiantly.
JimdidwhathealwaysdidwhenRosewasbeingdifficult, letitgo,andfinishedpolishinghisshoestilltheyshonelike glass.Maybeheoughttobetougher,buthewasveryaware thatRosedidn’tlovehimashelovedher,andhewasafraid togoagainsther.
‘Ifthat’swhatyouwant,’hesaidweaklyafteracoupleof seconds’thought.
Rosestormedoff intotheirbedroom,afraidthatifshe stayednearJimanotherminuteshe’dblurtouthowshefelt abouthimtoo.Shepulledthecurlersoutofherhairangrily, andasshepickedupherhairbrushandmovedtothemirror, whatshesawmadeherfeelevenmoreangry.
Everythingabouthersagged,bothherfaceandbody.She supposedshewasstillattractiveinmostpeople’seyes,but inherownshewaslikeanoverblownrose,thepetalsonthe pointoffalling.
Puttingherhandsoneithersideofherface,shepulled theskinbacktighter.Instantlyherjawwasfirmerandthe linesaroundhermouthdisappeared,evokingmemoriesof howshehadoncelooked.Shehadbeenahead-turner,with herperfectfigure,poutinglips,beautifulblondehairand skinlikeporcelain,andifshe’dmadeagoodmarriagetoa wealthyman,maybeshe’dstilllookthatwaynow.
Butfatehadconspiredagainstherallthewaydownthe line.Allthesuitableyoungmenwentoff towarwhenshe wasjustthirteen,andofthefewthatcameback,mostwere spokenfor,orelsedamagedthewayherfatherwas.
Thirtywasn’tsoveryold,buttherewasnowayofchanging herlifenow,anymorethantherewasofarrestingherfading beauty.
ShehadmarriedJimindesperationbecauseshewas pregnantwithAdele.Shesawhimasatemporaryrefuge, believingthatafterthebabywasbornsomethingbetter wouldturnup.Butinsteadshe’dlandedherselfinatrap.
ItwasbitterironythatPamela’sarrivalfouryearslater hadchangedherviewofhermarriageforawhile.Thelast thingshe’dwantedwastobeburdenedwithanotherchild. Yetshehadlovedherfromthefirstmomentsheheldherin herarms.
Inoneofthosesoppyromancessheusedtoreadsoavidly
asagirl,sheoughttohavecometoloveJimtrulytoo,but thatdidn’thappen.Shejustbecameresignedtobeingstuck withhim.YetwhileshecouldlookatPamela,somuchlike herself,shestillhadatraceofoptimismtherewassomething goodaroundthenextcorner.
ButwithoutPamelatherewouldbenothing.Shewasback towhereshe’dstartedwithAdele,theverycauseofher blightedlife,andJimofcourse,amanshecouldn’tloveor evenrespect.
AdelewassittingonherbedtryingtodarnheronlyhalfdecentpairofsockswhenRosecameintotheroom.
Herimmediatereactionwastosayhownicehermother looked.Butshebititback,afraiditwasn’tappropriateto complimentanyonedressedforafuneral.Butblacksuited hermother,andthewayherblondehairwascurlinground thelittleblacknettedhatwasverypretty.
‘Isittimetogoalready?’Adeleaskedinstead.‘Iwasjust finishingdarningthissock.I’veonlygottoputiton.’
‘Youneedn’tbother,youaren’tgoing,’hermotherreplied sharply.‘Funeralsarenoplaceforchildren.’
Adelefeltasurgeofrelief.InthetwoweekssincePamela diedshehadthoughtofthefuneralwithabsolutedread. Pamelahadalwaysbeenscaredofgraveyards,andAdele knewshe’dfeelspookedwatchingashercoffinwaslowered intotheground.
‘Isthereanythingyou’dlikemetodowhileyouandDaddy aregone?’sheasked.Sheknewtherewasn’ttobeanykind ofteaafterwards,asneitherhermothernorfatherhadany relativescoming.ButAdelethoughtitpossibletheymight bringbackafewneighbours.
Aslapacrossherfacestartledmorethanhurther.‘What didIsay?’sheaskedinpuzzlement.
‘Youdon’tbloodywellcare,doyou?’Roseshouted.‘You littlebitch!’
‘Idocare.Ilovedherjustasmuchasyou,’Adeleretorted indignantly,andbegantocry.
‘NoonelovedherlikeIdid.’Hermotherpushedherface rightuptoAdele’sandhereyeswereasicyastheweather outside.‘Noone!IwishtoGoditwasyouwhowaskilled. You’vebeenathorninmysidesincethemomentyouwere born.’
Adelecouldonlythinkhermothermusthavegonemad tosaysuchaterriblething.Yethoweverscaredshefelt,she couldn’tletitpasswithoutfightingback.‘Sowhyhaveme then?’sheretorted.
‘GodknowsItriedhardenoughtogetridofyou,’her mothersnarled,herlipscurlingbacklikeadog’saboutto bite.‘Ishould’veleftyouonsomeone’sdoorstep.’
ThedoorburstopenandJimcamein.‘What’sgoingon?’ heasked.
‘Justafewhometruths,’Rosesaidassheflouncedoutof theroom.Jimfollowedher.
Adelesatonherbedindeepshockforquitesometime. Shewantedtobelievethathermotherwasjustsuffering fromsomekindofsicknessthroughlosingPamela,andthat shehadn’treallymeantit.Yetpeopledidn’tsaythingslike that,evenwhentheywerehurtingthemselves,notunlessit wastrue.
Adelewasstillsittinglikeastatuewhensheheardher parentsleaveforthefuneral.Theydidn’tsaygoodbye,just leftwithoutawordasifshewasnothing.Adele’sroomwas atthebackofthehouse,soshecouldn’tseethestreet.She waiteduntilthey’dgonedownthestairs,thenwentintoher parents’bedroom,pulledtheclosedcurtainsbackjustacrack andsawthehearsewaitingdownbelow.
NooneinCharltonStreethadacar,sowhenonestopped inthestreetitwasquiteanevent,andalltheboysrushedto lookatit.Adultswoulddiscusswhoitmightbelongtoand thepurposeofthevisit.
Hearses,however,createdadifferentkindofreaction,and today’swastypical.Theneighbourswhoweregoingto thefuneralweregatheredinalittlegroup,lookingalmost unrecognizableintidyblackclothes.
Furtherdownthestreetwomenwatchedfromtheirdoorsteps.Menpassingbytookoff theirhats.Anychildrennot atschoolhadeitherbeentakenindoorsorifstilloutside werebeingmadetostandstillinrespect.
Whileitwasreassuringtothinkhersisterwasafforded thesamedegreeofrespectasanadult,itwasunbearablefor AdeletothinkofPamelalyinginsidetheshinycoffin.She hadbeensuchashow-off,sochattyandlively.Therewas hardlyahouseinthestreetthatshehadn’tbeenintoatsome time–shewasnosy,funnyandsolovablethateventhe crustiestofoldpeoplewerecharmedbyher.
Yetthereweren’tverymanyflowers.Theneighbourshad gottogethertobuyawreath,Adelehadseenitwhenitwas broughtroundearlier.Itwasonlyasmallonebecauseno onehadmuchmoneytospare,andasinJanuaryflowers werehardtocomeby,itwasmainlyevergreens.Theone fromtheteachersatPamela’sschoolwasbigger,likeayellow cushion,andtherewasaverynicebouquetfromMrsBelling, thepianoteacher.
ThewreathfromMumandDadwassmalltoo,butat leastithadpinkroses.ItwasveryprettyandAdelefelt Pamelawouldhaveapproved.
Asshewatched,shesawherparentsmovetostandbehind thehearse,andMrandMrsPattersonfromtheground-floor flatbeckonedtotheotherneighbourstofallinbehind them.
Thenthehearseslowlypulledawayandcreptonupthe streettothechurch,everyonewalkingbehinditwiththeir headshelddown.
Nowtherewasnothingmoretosee,Adelecouldonly thinkagainofthenastythingssaidearlier,andshebeganto
cryagain.Hadhermotherreallythoughtofleavingherona doorstep?Surelyallmotherslovedtheirbabies?
Twomonthslater,inMarch,Adeletrudgedwearilyhome fromschool.EverysingledaysincePameladiedhadbeen misery,buttodaywhentheyplayednetball,MissSwift,her teacher,hadaskedherinfrontofthewholeclasshowshe gotthemarksonthebacksofherlegs.
Adelehadsaidthefirstthingthatcameintoherhead,that shedidn’tknow.MissSwiftsaidthatwasridiculous,buther knowinglooksuggestedsheknewexactlyhowthemarks weremade.
ThetruthwasthatRosehadhitherwiththepokerthe previousSaturdaymorning.ShehadpickeditupasAdele waskneelinglayingthefire,andstruckherbecauseshe’d spilledashesontherug.Atthetime,Adelewashardly abletowalk.ButbyMondaymorningitwasbearableand fortunatelyhergymslipwaslongenoughtohidetheweals. Butshehadn’tthoughtaboutstrippingoff toherknickers fornetball.
MaybeifMissSwifthadaskedheraboutthemarkswhen Adelewasonherown,shemighthavebeenabletotellthe truth,butshecouldn’twithalltheothergirlslistening.Lots ofthemlivedinCharltonStreettoo,andAdeledidn’twant themallrushinghomeandtellingtheirmothersthatRose Talbotwasgoingcrazy.
Adeleknewthatwasnoexaggerationbecauseherfather hadsaiditdozensoftimesrecently.Rosehadn’tonlyhither, she’dhitJimtoowhenshewasdrinking.Andshewas drinkingallthetimenow,andeverythingwasfallingapart. Shedidn’tcookmeals,buyfood,cleantheflatordothe washing.ShewasnevertherewhenAdelewenthomefor dinner,andwhenshegothomefromschoolintheafternoon shewasusuallysleepingoff thedrink.
Adeledidthecleaning,andherfatherusuallysentherfor
fishandchipswhenhegotinfromwork.Ifhecomplained abouttherebeingnodinner,hermotherwouldeitherstart cryingorgetnasty,andquiteoftenshe’drunonoutagain downtothepubandJimwouldhavetogoafterhertobring herhome.
Itwasallsohorrible.Adelehadgrownupwithher mother’sblack,silentmoods–theywereasmuchapartof herlifeasgoingtoschoolortakingthewashingtothe laundryroomatthepublicbaths.ButRosewasnolonger silent,shescreamed,shoutedandswore,oftenthrewthings too,andJimwasgettingjustasbad.
Hehadalwaysbeensuchaquietman,infacthermother’s favouriteinsulthadbeentocallhimfeeble.ButnowRose keptgoadinghim,sayinghewasstupidandcommon,and he’dbecomealmostasviciousasher.Justacoupleofnights agohe’dlashedoutatherwithaflatiron.
Adeleknewverywellthatherfatherwasabitslow,he couldonlyreadthesimplestofwords,andhehadtohave thingsexplainedverycarefullybeforeheunderstood.Buthe couldaddupwellenough,andhewasgettingreallyangryat theamountofmoneyRosewasspendingondrink.Adele hadheardhimtellinghermotherthathe’dhadacutinpay becausehisbosshadn’tgotenoughbuildingworkcoming in.Hekeptsayingtoothathemightbethrownoutofwork completely,buteventhatthreatdidn’tmakeanydifference.
AsAdelegotinthefrontdoorMrsPattersonopenedher dooranditwasclearbythewayshescowledandputher handsonherhipsthatshewasangry.
‘Yourmum’sbeenatitagain,’sheblurtedout.‘Ican’t standmuchmoreofthis,howeversorryIamaboutyour sister.’
MrsPattersonwasanicewoman.Shehadthreechildren ofherownbutshe’dalwaysmadeafussofbothAdeleand Pamela,andinthepastshe’doftenhadtheminforteaif
theirmotherhadtogosomewhere.Shewasatiny,wiry womanwithjet-backhairplaitedroundherheadlikea crown.AdeleandPamelausedtowonderhowlongherhair waswhensheletitloose.Pamelawassureitwentrightdown toherfeet.
‘Beenatwhat?’Adeleasked.
‘ScreamingdownthestairsatIdaManning,’MrsPatterson rolledhereyestowardstheflatupstairs.‘Accusedherof stealingabagofgroceriessheleftinthehall.Yourmum’s neverbeennearagroceryshop,theonlyshopshegoestois theoff licence.’
‘I’msorry,’Adelesaidweakly.SheknewMrsPatterson mustbeattheendofhertethertocomplaintoher.Shewas alwayssokindnormally.ButAdeledidn’tdarelingertalking aboutitashermotherwouldskinheraliveifshecaughther discussingherwiththeneighbours.
‘Sorry’snotgoodenoughanymore.That’sallIgetfrom yourdadtoo,’MrsPattersonsaid,wigglingafingeratAdele. ‘Thishouseisfullofkids.Wedon’twantnodrunksshouting theodds.We’vealltriedtohelphersincePamelawent,but allwegetisthebrush-off.’
‘Ican’tdoanything,’Adelesaid,andbegantocry.Shefelt shecouldn’tstandanyofitanylonger.Shedreadedcoming home.
‘Therenow,don’tcry,’MrsPattersonsaid,theprevious harshnessofhertonesoftening.ShecameovertoAdeleand pattedhershoulder.‘You’reagoodgirl,youdon’tdeserve this.Butyoumusttalktoyerdad.Ifhedon’tputastopto itsoon,you’llallbethrownout.’
Adelewasaloneinthelivingroomwhenherfathercamein fromworklaterthatsameevening.‘Whereisshe?’heasked.
‘Shewentout,abouthalfanhourago,’Adelesaid,and begantocryagain.Hermotherwaslyingdowninthe bedroomwhenshegotinfromschool,soshe’dleftherin peaceforawhile.Latershe’dtakenherinacupoftea,and
gotslappedroundthefacewhensheaskedwhatwasfortea. ‘Thereisn’tanythingtoeat,butmaybeshe’sgonetoget something,’sheadded.
Dadsigheddeeplyandsankdownontoachair,stillwith hiscoaton.‘Idunnowhattodoanymore,’hesaidhelplessly. ‘Youdon’t’elpneither,alwaysupsetting’er.’
‘Idon’tdoorsayanythingtoher,’Adeleretortedindignantly.‘It’sallher.’
Shewassohungryshefeltsickwithit,andtherewasn’t evenapieceofbreadinthecupboard.Whileshewaswell usedtoherfatherblamingherforeverything,thistimeshe wasn’tgoingtoacceptit.
AngrilyshelaunchedintotellinghimwhatMrsPatterson hadsaid.‘Can’tyoudosomething,Dad?’shebeggedhim.
Sheexpectedacloutroundtheear,buttohersurprise Jimjustlookedsorrowful.‘Shedon’ttakenonoticeof anythingIsay,’hereplied,shakinghisheadslowly.‘It’slike I’mthecauseof’ertroubles.’
Adelewasstruckbythedepthofhurtandsadnessinhis voice.Hehadneverbeenlikefathersinbooks,hedidn’trule thehouse,andmostlyheskulkedaboutlikealodger.He didn’ttalkmuch,seldomshowedhisfeelings,andAdele knewverylittleabouthimbecausemostofthetimehetotally ignoredher.Yetfromwhatsheknewofotherfathers,Jim Talbotwasn’tabadone.Hemightberoughandslow-witted, buthedidn’tdrinkmuchorgambleandhewenttowork everyday.
ButPamela’sdeath,andthehugeholeinthefamilyshe’d leftbehind,hadmadeAdelenoticeherfathermore.She didn’twanttoagreewithsomeofthenastierthingsher mothersaidabouthim,evenifmostofthemweretrue.It wasn’thisfaultafterallthathecouldn’tdealwitheventhe simplestproblems.Hewasinfactlikeabig,strongchild, andassuchshefeltabondofsympathywithhimbecause sheknewwhatitwasliketobeconstantlyridiculed.
‘Howcanyoubethecauseofhertroubles?’sheasked. ‘Idunno,’heshrugged.‘I’vealwaysdonewhatevershe wanted.Butshe’sdeeperthantheThames.Idunnowhat goesoninside’er’ead.’
WhenRosefinallycamehomearoundnine,Adelewasin bed.Sheandherfatherhadonlyabagofchipsbetween themfortheirtea,asJimdidn’thaveanymoremoney.Adele wasstillveryhungry,andsheknewherfathermustbetoo. Goingtobedwasawayofforgettingaboutit,andavoiding thefightwhenhermothercamehome.
TheexpectedrowbegantheminuteRosegotthroughthe door.Jimsaidsomethingaboutabagofchipsnotbeing enoughforamanwho’dworkedaten-hourday.Thenallat oncetheywereatit,hammerandtongs,Dadf’ingand blindingandMumsneeringbecausehehadtoresorttothat.
ItallwashedoverAdeleforsometime;mostlyitwasall stuff she’dhearddozensoftimesbefore.Rosesayingthat shewasmeantforbetterthingsthanlivinginEustonand Jimthrowingbackthathedidhisbestforher.
ThensuddenlyAdeleheardJimsaysomethingwhich madeherprickupherears.‘You’dhaveendedupinthe fuckin’workhouseifitweren’tforme.’
Adelesatupinshockedsurprise.
‘WhyelsewouldIhavemarriedyou?’Rosescreamedback athim.‘DoyouthinkIwouldhaveletsomeonelikeyou nearmeifIwasn’tdesperate?’
Adelegaspedathermother’scruelty.
‘ButIlovedyou,’Jimreplied,hisvoicecrackingwithhurt. ‘Howcanyoulovesomeoneyoudon’tknow?’Rose retorted.‘Youneverletmetellyouhowitwas,youjust wantedtoownme.’
‘Ididtherightthingbyyou,’Jimsaidindignantly,and nowitsoundedasifhewascrying.‘Youneededaman besideyouwithababyontheway.’
‘Callyourselfaman?’Rosesnortedwithderision.‘I
wouldn’thavelookedtwiceatyouifIhadn’tbeenpregnant, andyoualwaysknewthat.Don’tmakeoutyoucaredabout thekideither,allyouwantedwastogetintobedwithme.’
TherewasasharpcrackandAdeleknewhe’dhitRose.
‘Youfuckin’bitch,’heyelledather.‘Ifitwasdowntoyou Adelewouldbeabastardandinsomefoundlinghome.’
Adelewassohorrifiedshepulledthepillowoverherhead soshecouldn’thearanymore.
Sheknewthatbabiesgrewinawoman’sstomach,and thattheirhusbandsputthemthere.ButifAdelehadn’tbeen puttherebyJim,itsurelyfollowedthathermotherhadbeen aprostitute!
Adelehadgrownupfamiliarwiththeword‘prostitute’, oritsmorecommonlyusedversionof‘prozzie’,because thereweresomanyaroundKing’sCrossandEuston.Yetit wasn’tuntilshewasabouttenthatshediscoveredexactly whattheydid.Anoldergirlatschoolexplainedthatthey gotmoneyforlettingmendotheacttothemthatmade babies.Shesaidmenweremadaboutmakingbabies,butas theirwivesdidn’twantlotsandlotsofthem,theywentto prostitutesinstead.
Adelehadalwaysbeenconcernedastowhereallthe babieswerekeptassheneversawanyofthosewomen pushingprams.Nowitseemedfromwhatherdadhadsaid thattheywenttotheFoundlingHome.Buthehadmarried MumtopreventAdelegoingtheretoo.
Adelewasn’tsurewhethersheshouldconsiderherself luckysheescapedthatfate,ornot.Ashermotherclaimed she’dspoiledherlife,maybeshehadlikedbeingaprostitute?
Itseemedherparentshadgoneintothebedroomnow, becausealthoughtheywerestillshouting,shecouldn’tmake outwhattheyweresaying.ButshecouldheartheMannings downstairsbangingontheirceilingwithabroomhandle becausetheyweremakingsomuchnoise.
Thenallatoncetherewasanalmightycrashfromthe kitchen.Itsoundedasthoughoneofthemhadknockedall thesaucepansoff theshelfatonce.AboveitMumwas screamingatthetopofherlungs.
InstinctivelyAdelejumpedoutofbedandranintothe livingroom.ButinsteadoffindingJimhittingRoseasshe expected,Jimwascoweringinthebedroomdoorway,with bloodrunningdownhisface.Thesaucepanswereclearly Rose’sdoing–theywerealloverthefloorwithsomeplates too,andshehadthecarvingknifeinherhand.
Adeleimmediatelyknewthatthiswasverydifferentfrom theusualfights.ShecouldseeJim’sfearandfeelthereal menaceintheair.Rosewasstillyellinglikeamadwoman, quiveringwithrage,andshewaspoisedtostabJimagain.
‘Stopit!’Adeleshouted.
Rosewheeledroundatthesoundofhervoice,andher facewasutterlyterrifying.Hereyeswerealmostpoppingout ofherhead,hermouthwasallslacklikeapantingdog’s,and shewasastrangepurplecolour.
‘Stopit?’sheshoutedback,liftingthekniferightupinher handasiftostabanyonewhocamenearher.‘Ihaven’teven startedyet.’
‘Someonewillgetthepolice,’Adelepleadedfearfully. ‘We’llgetthrownoutofhere.’Shewonderedifshedared runforthedoorandgetout.
‘Doyouthinkthatbothersme?’Rosesnarledatherwith baredteethandflaringnostrils.‘Ihatethisplace,Ihate London,andIhatebothofyou.’
Adelehadseenhermotherangryhundredsoftimes,and usuallyitendedsuddenlywithherslumpingdownontoa chairsobbingherheartout.Butshewasdifferentthistime, shelookedsavage,almostasifshewerepossessedbysome evilspirit.Adelewasstrickenwithterror,instincttellingher thatshewasreallydangerous.
‘YoukilledmyPammy,’Roseyelledout,spittingwith rage,hermouthallcontorted.ShelurchedtowardsAdelein acuriousape-likemannerwithhershoulderhunched,the carvingknifepoisedforafrenziedattack.‘Shewastheonly thingIlovedandyoukilledher.’
Adelewasfrozenwithterror.Hermindsaidshemustrun, ifnotdownstairsatleastbacktoherbedroom,butallshe couldseewastheglintingoftheknifeandhermother’s baredteeth,andshewetherselfwithfright.
‘Youfilthylittlebitch!’Roseshrieked,andcatchinghold ofAdele’shairwithonehand,sheraisedtheknifetoplunge itdownonher.
‘No,Rose!’Jimshouted,andgrabbedherwristfrom behind.
‘Getoff,’Rosescreamed,butJimwasshakingherwrist soviolentlythattheknifewaswobblinginherhand,less thananinchfromAdele’scheek,andRosestillhadafirm gripofthechild’shair.
Adelethoughtshewasgoingtodieanyminute.She couldn’tgetaway,hermother’sbreathwashotandrancid andhereyeswerewildandrolling.Shescreamedoutandat thesametimetriedtopushRoseaway.Shefelttheknife touchhercheek,thenclattertothefloor.
JimwaswrestlingwithRose,desperatelytryingtodrag herawayfromAdele,andashepulledherback,aclumpof Adele’shaircameoutbytheroots.
‘Forfuck’ssakegetout!’Jimyelled,pinioningRose’sarms behindherback.
Adeletriedtomovebutshewaspressedupagainstthe wall,andsuddenlyaviolentblowfromhermother’sknee caughtherinthestomach.AsJimfinallymanagedtorestrain Rose,Adelefelltothefloordoubledupwithpain.
‘Youmessedupmylife,’sheheardhermotherscreaming atherasiffromadistance.‘Ifitwasn’tforyouIcouldhave
hadagoodlife.Yourfatherwasalyingbastard,andI’vehad tolivewithyouruglyfacefortwelveyears,everydaya reminderofhim.’
JimwasstilltryingtohaulRoseawayfromAdelewhen thefrontdoorburstopenandincameStanManningand AlfPatterson,histwoneighbours.
‘She’sgonefuckingmad,’Jimshouted,tryingtoholdon toRosewhowasbuckingagainsthim,spittingandyelling abuse.‘Shewasgoingtokillthekid.Helpme,thenoneof yougetadoctor.’
ChapterThree
AlfPattersonstayedonlylongenoughtohelpJimandStan restrainRose.Theyforcedherontoachair,tiedherwrists togetherbehindherbackwithascarf,andsecuredhertothe chairwithaleatherstrap.ThenAlfranupthestreettothe doctor’s.
Hewasshortandstocky,withabeergutandthinninghair atthirty-three,butAlfwasahappyman.Helovedhisjob ontherailway,hehadadecenthomeandthebestwifeand kidsanymancouldaskfor.
HeandAnniehadmovedintonumber 47 asnewly-weds, someeightyearsago,andtheTalbotstookthetopflatsoon afterwards.ThetwocoupleshadneverbeenwhatAlfwould callfriends.Thetwomenboughteachotheradrinkifthey sawoneanotherinthepub,andRosehadtheoccasional cupofteawithAnnie,butthatwasall–theonlycommon groundbetweenthemwastheirkids.Alf’seldest,Tommy, wasjustayearyoungerthanPamela,andAdelewouldtake bothchildrentoschool.She’ddonethisrightfromwhen theystartedattheinfants’,whenshewasstillatthejuniors’ nextdoor.
AnniehadalwaysfoundRosepuzzling.Shecouldbe snootyornastyoneday,thenasniceaspiethenext,especially whenshewantedsomething.Ifithadn’tbeenforAdele,for whomshehadasoftspot,shewouldn’thavebotheredwith hermotheratall.ButwhenPamelawaskilledAnnie’sbest effortstocomfortandhelpwererebuffed.Sheworriedabout Rose’sdrinking,shesaidshesuspectedAdelewasbeingill treated,andbeggedAlftohaveawordwithJim.Alfthought hiswifewasover-reacting,andthatitwouldallblowover.
Butinthelightofwhathe’djustseen,Anniewasrighttobe concerned.RoseTalbotwasmadanddangerous.
ReachingthecornerofthestreetwhereDrBiggslived, Alfbangedloudlyonthedoor.Itwasopenedafewseconds laterbythedoctor,readyforbedinhispyjamasandared dressing-gown.
Hewasasmall,baldingman,knownasmuchforhisjovial mannerashismedicalskills.‘Sorrytodisturbyou,Doc,’Alf pantedout.‘It’sRoseTalbotupstairstome.She’sgonemad. SheattackedJimandthensetaboutherkidwithaknife.Me andJimhadtotieherupshewassocrazy.’
IttookDrBiggsamomentortwotoplacewhoAlf Pattersonwastalkingabout.Thenherememberedthe Talbotsweretheparentsofthechildwhowasrunovera whileback.‘Holdon,I’llbewithyouimmediately,’hesaid. ‘Justletmeputsomeclothesonandgetmybag.’
‘AnyideawhatsetMrsTalbotoff ?’thedoctoraskedas theyhurriedbackupthestreetjustafewminuteslater.He knewAlfandAnniePattersonwell,ashehaddeliveredall threeoftheirchildrenandbeforetheyoungertwoarrived, Annieusedtocleanhissurgeryforhim.
‘Dunno,’Alfsaid.‘Ofcourse,she’sbeeninastatesince thelittlegirlgotrunover.We’ve’eardalotofrows.ButJim ain’tsaidnothin’elsewasup.’
DrBiggsbarelyknewtheTalbots,buthehadcalledon Rosejustafterthefuneraltoseehowshewascopingwith thetragedy.Rosehadkepthimatthedoorandsaidshewas fine.Shedidn’tlookfine,shelookedcompletelywashedout withdarkcirclesunderhereyes.Hesaidasmuch,and suggestedshecallintoseehimatthesurgery,butshenever came.Hecouldhardlymakeanuisanceofhimselfbycalling againuninvited.
Quiteacrowdhadgatheredoutsidenumber 47,allof themlookingupatthelightinthetop-floorwindowand listeningtotheshriekscomingfrominsidetheroom.
‘Gohome,allofyou,’DrBiggssaidfirmly.‘There’s nothingtosee.’
‘It’swhatwe’eardwhichbothersus,Doc,’oneofthe menretorted.‘Soundslikesheneedslockingup.’
DrBiggsdidn’treply,butwentonin,noddingbrieflyat AnniePattersonwhowasstandinganxiouslyatthebottom ofthestairswithanotherwoman.Thenoisefromthetop flatwasmuchlouderinsidethehouse,andalongwiththe shoutingwasthesoundofsomethingbeingdraggedor scrapedoverthefloor.
‘Youstayherewithyourwife,’BiggssaidtoAlf.‘I’llcall youifIneedanyfurtherhelp.’
ThescenewhichmetDrBiggs’seyesashewalkedintothe topflatwasveryalarming.Rosewasboundbyaleatherstrap toachair,hereyesalmostpoppingoutofherhead.Shewas rockingandscrapingthechaironthefloor,shriekingabuse atherhusbandasshestruggleddesperatelytogetfree.Jim Talbotwastryingvainlytopacifyher,andhehadblood pouringdownhisface.
Anothermanthedoctordidn’tknow,butwhopresumably wasanotherneighbour,waskneelingdownbesidethedaughter,wipingbloodfromherface.Thegirlwaswearinga nightdress,andataglancethedoctorcouldseeitwaswet withurineandsplatteredwithblood.Thewholeliving-room floorwaslitteredwithpots,pansandbrokenchina.
DrBiggsknewimmediatelythatthiswasnotanordinary domesticincident.Rosewasn’tgoingtocalmdownovera cupofteaandachat.Infacthesuspectedbothherhusband anddaughterwouldbeatriskifshestayedhere.Theonly courseofactionopentohimwastosedatethewoman immediatelyandgetheradmittedintoamentalasylumbefore shecoulddoanyfurtherdamagetoothers,orherself.
‘Now,what’sallthisabout,MrsTalbot?’heaskedsoothinglyasheapproachedher.
‘Fuckyou,’shescreamedathim,baringherteethlikea savagedogandrockingthechairevenmoreviolently,despite herhusband’seffortstoholdherstill.‘Getoutofhere,the lotofyou!’
Astringofobscenitiesfollowed,hervoicesoshrilland derangedthatthedoctorwinced.
‘Why’sshegonelikethis?’Jimaskedpitifully.‘Ineverdid anythingto’er.’
‘Thedeathofyourdaughterappearstohavebroughton anervouscollapse,’DrBiggssaidbriskly,openinghisbag andbringingoutaphialofsedativeandahypodermicsyringe. ‘Wasshebehavingoddlybeforetonight?’heaskedashe preparedit.
Jimnodded.‘She’sbinstrangeferweeksnow.Couldn’t saynothingrightto’er.She’sbeendrinkingandcarryingon.’
IfJimhadbeenintendingtoaddanythingfurthertothis, Rosecuthimshort.‘Youfuckingbastard,slimyno-good worm,’sheyelledatthetopofherlungs.‘Iwouldn’tbelike thisifitwasn’tforyou.’
‘Now,now,MrsTalbot,’DrBiggssaidcalmly,thepreparedsyringeinhishand.‘Youarejustoverwrought,and I’mgoingtogiveyousomethingtocalmyoudown.’He lookedtowardstheneighbourwhohadgotupfromtending tothegirlandwasstandingtherelookinghorrified.‘Ifyou wouldhelpJimtoholdhersteady.’
Rosebuckedandwrithedinherchairwiththestrengthof halfadozenmen,butJimandStanmanagedtokeepherstill enoughfortheinjection.
‘Itwillonlybeafewmomentsbeforeitbeginstotake effect,’thedoctorsaidashewithdrewtheneedlefromher arm.‘Ishallhavetogooutinamomentandmakeaquick phonecallforahospitalplace,butfirstIwillseetothe child.’
‘Bastard!’Rosespatathim.‘You’dbetternotbesending metothemadhouse!It’sherthatmademelikethis!’
WithinlessthanaminuteRosestoppedstruggling,and hershrieksdieddowntomerecroaks,andthedoctormoved overtokneelbythegirltoexamineher.Shewasconscious, seeminglyjusttoostunnedtospeak,andherfacehadbeen cut,presumablybythesameknifeusedonherfather.Butit wasnotadeepcut,littlemorethanabadscratch.Whenhe askedherifshehadanyotherinjuries,sheputonehandon herbelly.
‘Helpmemovehertothebedroom,’hesaidtoJim,who wasintentlywatchinghiswifeasherheadbegantodroop downontoherchest.
‘Nopointindoin’that,’heretorted.‘Shecan’tstay’ereif hermother’sgoingtoahospital.’
‘Ineedtoexamineher,’DrBiggssaidcurtly.Heassumed Jimthoughtachildofheragecouldn’tstayintheflatalone whilehewenttothehospitalwithhiswife.‘Andthere’llbe noneedforyoutoaccompanyyourwife.Providedyour daughter’sinjuriesdon’trequiretreatment,shecanstayhere withyou.’
‘Sheain’tmydaughter,’Jimsaid,histoneascoldasifhe weretalkingaboutastraydog.‘Andinjuredornot,Iwant ’eroutof’eretonight.’
DrBiggspridedhimselfonbeingunshockable,buthe wasastoundedbythatremark.‘We’lltalkaboutthatlater,’he saidcurtly.‘ButmeanwhileIhavenointentionofexamininga childonacold,hardfloor.SoI’dbegratefulifyou’dhelp mewithher.OnceI’vedonethatIcanphoneforhelpfor yourwife.’
Oncehehadthegirlinherbedroomshetoldhimher nameandthathermotherhadgoneforherwithaknifeand kickedherinthestomach.Thedoctorliftedhernightdress andsawaredmarkwhichborethisout,andhealsonoticed severalotheroldbruisesonherbodyandlegswhich suggestedshe’dbeenbeatenbefore.Althoughshewasin shock,therewerenobonesbrokenandthefacialscratch
didn’trequirestitching,soshedidn’tneedtogotohospital.
‘I’vegottogoandmakeaphonecallaboutyourmum,’ heexplainedashehelpedheroff withherwetnightdress andcoveredherupwithablanket.‘Butyoujuststayhere andI’llbebacktoseeyouinalittlewhile.’
RoseTalbotwassoheavilysedatedthatsheofferedno resistanceatallwhenthetwoambulancemencarriedher downtotheirambulanceonastretcher.DrBiggshadonly justgotbacktonumber 47 frommakingthetelephonecall whentheyarrived,sohe’dhadnotimeyettodressJim Talbot’sfacialwound,orspeaktoeitherhimorAdeleagain. Oncetheambulancehaddrivenawayhewentbackintothe houseandsawAnniePattersonwaitinginthehallwaylooking anxious.
‘Willshebeallright?’sheasked.‘IsthereanythingIcan dotohelpJimorAdele?’
‘MrsTalbotwillprobablybeinhospitalforsomelittle while,’thedoctorsaidcautiously.HeknewAnniePatterson wasagoodwoman,notgiventoidlegossip,butevensohe couldn’tbringhimselftotellherRoseTalbotwasboundfor thementalasylum.‘However,theredoesseemtobeafurther problemupstairs,andit’spossibleAdelewon’tbeableto staythere.Wouldyoubepreparedtoputherupforthe nightifnecessary?’
‘Ofcourse,’Anniesaidwithoutanyhesitation.‘Thepoor love,ayounggirllikethatshouldn’thavetoseeandhear suchthings.Youbringherondownifyouneedto,it’llonly beonthecouch,I’mafraid,andshe’dbetterbringsome blanketswithher.Butshe’smorethanwelcome.’
‘You’reagoodwoman,’DrBiggssaidwithasmile.‘She’ll beinneedofalittlemothering,Isuspectshehasn’thad muchofthatlately.’
UpinthetopflatJimwasnowalone,sittingatthekitchen tablestaringintospace,seeminglyoblivioustothepotsand crockeryonthefloor.Hedidn’tevenlookupwhenDrBiggs camein.
‘Right,let’slookatyourinjuries,Jim,’thedoctorsaid, keepinghistonejovial.Heputsomehotwaterfromthe kettleintoabasinandtakingsomeswabsfromhisbag,he cleaneduptheman’scheek.‘Onlyafleshwound,I’mglad tosay,itdoesn’tneedstitches,’heannouncedafterafew minutes.Heputadressingonandusedsomestickingplaster tokeepitinplace,thensatdownatthetableandlooked sternlyatJim.
‘Now,supposeyouexplaintomewhat’sbeengoingon?’
‘Nothin’muchtotell,’Jimsaid,histonesullen.‘Roseain’t binrightsinceourPammywaskilled.Itgotworseeveryday, whatwifthedrinkin’an’all.Yousawwhatshewerelike, gonerightoff ’errocker.’
‘Thedeathofachildisenoughtosendanymotheroff therails,’DrBiggssaidreproachfully.‘Youshould’vecalled melongbeforeitgottothisstage.’
‘Ican’tafforddoctors,’Jimsaid.‘I’ve’adtotakeacutin wages.Besides,Rosewouldn’t’aveletyounear’er.’
‘WhywassheblamingAdele?’thedoctorasked.
‘Well,she’stheonewhatdoneit.Ifshe’dgotamoveon topickourPammyup,shewouldn’t’avebeenrunover.’
‘Youcannotblamearoadaccidentonanotherchild,’Dr Biggsexclaimedinhorror.‘Adelewillprobablyalwaysfeelit washerfaultanyway,accidentsdothattopeople,butthe blameshouldnotcomefromhermotherandfather.’
‘Itoldyou,sheain’tmykid,’Jimsaidpetulantly.‘Now mine’sdeadthankstoher.Andhermum’sgonebarmy.You should’aheardwhatshewereblamingmefor!Ican’ttake anymoreofit.IdonemebestalltheseyearsferRoseand thekid,andthat’sallthethanksIget.SoIdon’twantnothin’
moretodowitheitherof’em.Soyoucangetthatkidout of’ererightnow.’
Biggswasappalledbytheman’scallousattitudetowards Adele,butatthesametimeheguessedRosemusthavebeen tauntingJim,perhapseversincehisownchildwaskilled. Themanwasinshock,bytomorrowhemightseethings differently,andasAdelewasinthenextroom,possibly listeningtoallthis,thebestsolutionwastotakeupAnnie Patterson’sofferfortonight.
‘IwilltakeAdeleawayfornow,’DrBiggssaidpointedly. ‘Notbecauseofyourfeelings,MrTalbot,butbecausesheis sufferingfromshockandneedssometendercare.Ishallbe backtotalktoyoutomorrow.Ihopebythenyouwillhave calmeddownandrememberedthatbymarryingRose,you havealegalandmoralresponsibilityforherchild.’
‘I’vegottogotoworktomorrow,’Jimsaid.
‘ThenI’llcomeatsevenintheevening,’DrBiggssaid sharply.‘Isuggestbeforethen,youspendsometimethinking aboutthechild’sneeds,ratherthanyourown.’
AnniePattersonshowedallthecompassionforAdelethat JimTalbotlackedwhenthedoctortookherdownstairs. ‘Youpoordear,’shesaid,givingthegirlahug.‘I’msorrywe haven’tgotapropersparebed,butalittlethinglikeyou shouldbeallrightonthecouch.’
TheonlycleannightdressDrBiggshadbeenabletofind hadclearlybelongedtothedeadsister.Itbarelyreached Adele’skneesandwithablanketaroundhershouldersand strappingonherfaceshelookedpitiful.
‘Thisisverykindofyou,Annie,’hesaid,puttingdowna blanketandpillow.‘Itisonlyatemporarymeasure.I’lltalk toMrTalbottomorroweveningwhenhe’scalmer.’
Adelehadn’tsaidaword,nottoaskabouthermother,or herself.Biggshopedthiswasbecauseshehadn’treallytaken inwhathadhappenedupstairs.
Butthathopewasdashedashewasabouttoleave,when suddenlyAdelebecameagitated.‘Ican’tstaywithDad,ever again,’sheblurtedout.‘Hedoesn’tlikeme.Neitherdoes Mum.’
‘That’snonsense,’AnniePattersonsaidbriskly.‘Your mum’sillandyourdaddoesn’tknowwhetherhe’scoming orgoing.’
Adelelookedfromtheneighbourtothedoctorhelplessly. Shecouldn’treallybelievethathermotherhadtriedtokill her.Orthatshe’dreallysaidallthoseterriblethings.
Yetyoungasshewas,sheknewshe’dcomefaceto facewithhermother’srealfeelingsforhertonight.Itwas somethinglikespillingabottleofmilk,youcouldmopitup, butyoucouldn’tputitbackinthebottle.
Sheknewnowwithcompletecertaintythatthemany slaps,nastinessandcruelwordsinthepastwereallsymptoms ofhermother’ssimmeringhatredforher.Tonightithad justboiledover.
Shedidn’tseehowshecouldhavespoiledhermother’slife byjustbeingborn,butshedoubtedtherewasanythingshe coulddoorsaythatwouldevermakehermotherfeeldifferentlyabouther.Likewise,shesensedthatneitherthedoctor norMrsPattersonwasinthemoodforanyfurtherdiscussion tonight.Sotherewasnothingforitbuttodowhattheywanted, toliedownonthecouchandgotosleep.Todoorsayanything furtherwouldonlysetthemagainsthertoo.
‘I’msorrytobeanuisance,’shesaidweakly,lookingfrom oneadulttotheother.‘I’lldowhateveryousay.’
‘There’sagoodgirl.’MrsPattersonsmiledandsmoothed hercheekaffectionately.‘Everythingwilllookdifferentlyin themorning,you’llsee.Andyoucanhavealie-inasit’s Saturday.’
AnhourlaterAdelewasstillawake,despitethecocoaMrs Pattersonhadmadeher,andthehotwaterbottleonher
sorestomach.Therewasmoonlightcominginthroughthe windowbythesinkandglintingdownontothebacksof thechairsatthetable.Thecouchshewaslyingonwasmore ofapaddedbenchreally,coveredinbrown,crackedimitation leatherandveryhard.Itwasbehindthetableandusedas extraseating.
ThePattersons’flatwasthebiggestinthehousebutabit dark.ThekitchenandthefrontbedroomwhereMrandMrs Pattersonandtheirone-year-oldbabyLilyslepthadbigdouble doorsbetweenthem.Thentherewasapassagewayfromthe kitchendowntotheroomfour-year-oldMichaelandsevenyear-oldTommyshared,andafurtherdoortothebackyard.
Whatwasgoingtobecomeofhernow?She’dheardwhat herfathersaidtothedoctor,andshewasprettycertainhe meantit.Asfarassheknew,orphanageswereforyoung childrenandbabies,she’dneverheardofanyoneoftwelve beingputinone.Butshecouldn’tgetajobandkeepherself untilshewasfourteen.
Shemusthavegonetosleepeventuallyforshewokewitha starttohearMrsPattersonputtingthekettleon.
‘Sorrytowakeyou,lovey,’shesaidcheerily.‘Didyousleep allright?’ShecameovertothecouchandsmoothedAdele’s hairbackfromherforehead.
Thewoman’sblackhairwasloosenow,anditwassolong itreachedherwaist.Shewaswearingadressing-gownthat wassothreadbareitlookedreadytofallapart.
‘Yes,thankyou,’Adelereplied.Herstomachstillacheda bit,andherfacefeltsore,butapartfromthatshewasallright.
‘MyAlf’sgoingoff toworknow,’MrsPattersonsaid. ‘YousnuggledownforabitlongerandI’llmakeyouacup ofteaafterI’vegivenLilyherbottle.We’llhavealittlechat thentoo.’
Adelestayedwhereshewasforaverylongtime,pretendingtosleepwhileshewatchedandlistenedtothePat-
tersons.ShesawhowMrsPattersonkissedherhusband goodbyeandgavehimhissandwiches.Howshefedbaby Lilyandthenbathedherinthekitchensink.Lily’swetnappy stank,butitwasnicetohearhergurglingandsplashingin thewater.ThenMichaelandTommygotup,andtheir mothermadethemtoastandacupoftea.
Therewasacosinessaboutthefamily’sroutinethatAdele hadneverexperiencedherself.MrsPattersonpattedher children’sheadsandbottomsaffectionately,sheevenkissed theircheeksfornorealreason,andsheansweredtheboys’ questionsinaquiet,calmmanner.Adelewasusedtoher mothersnarlingather.
‘Howaboutacupofteanow?’MrsPattersonaskedwhen theboyshadgoneoff totheirroomtogetdressed.BabyLily wasputonthefloortoplaywithsomewoodenblocks,and sheshuffledaboutonherbottom.
Adelegotupcautiously,veryawarethatPamela’snightdresswasfartooshort,andshehadn’tthoughttobringany clothesdownwithher.
MrsPattersonmusthavereadherthoughts.‘We’llgoup laterandgetyousomethings.Iheardyourdadleavefor workearlier.That’sagoodsign,atleastheisn’tbrooding.’
‘Idon’tthinkhe’llchangehismindaboutme,’Adelesaid, assumingMrsPattersonmeantthathewasn’tbroodingabout her.‘Yousee,heisn’tmydad,Mumsaidsolastnight.’
MrsPattersonputherhandsonherhipsandmadeastern face.‘Shesaidagreatmanydaftthingsbyallaccounts,but shecouldn’thelpit,love.Shewasbesideherself.’
‘Itmustbetrue,Dadsaidittoo,tothedoctor,’Adelesaid inasmallvoice,hangingherheadwiththeshameofit. ‘Mum’sbeensayinglotsofnastythingslikethatlately.She saidshetriedtogetridofmeanditwastheonlyreasonshe marriedDad.Sheevenwantedtokillmelastnight.’
MrsPattersonfellsilent,andAdeleknewitwasbecause shedidn’tknowwhattosay.
‘IsupposeI’llhavetogotoanorphanage,won’tI?’Adele saidafterwatchingtheolderwomanbusyingherselfmaking theteaforafewminutes.‘Thereisn’tanywhereelse.’
Allatonceshefoundherselfenvelopedinawarmhug. ‘Youpoorlove,’MrsPattersonexclaimed,clutchingherto herplumpchestwhichsmelledofbabyandtoast.‘Thisis anawfulbusiness,butmaybeafteryourmum’shadarestin hospitalthingswillgetbetter.’
Adelelikedthehug,itmadeherfeelsafeandwanted, somethingshehadn’treallyfeltbefore.Yetallthesameshe thoughtshemustwarnthiskindwomanjusthowRose Talbotfeltaboutherelderdaughter.
‘Idon’tthinkshe’llwantme,notevenwhenshe’sbetter,’ shebegan.Ittookhersometimetoexplainjusthowbad thingshadbeensincePamela’sdeath,andthatevenbefore that,hermotherhadbeenindifferenttowardsher.‘Soyou see,’shefinishedup,‘there’snopointinmehopingthat whenshe’sbettereverythingwillbeallright.’
ItseemedaninterminabledaytoAdele.MrsPatterson decideditwasn’tagoodideatogobacktotheflattoget someclothes,soshegaveAdeleasortofoverallofhersto wear.Itwasredandwhitecheckandnearlyasbroadasit waslong,butwithabelttiedround,itdidn’tlookmuch differenttoadressing-gown.Adeletriedtotakehermindoff whatwaslikelytohappentoherbyhelpingaroundtheflat, butherachingstomachkeptremindingher.Whenshecaught aglimpseofherselfinMrsPatterson’sbedroommirrorshe begantocryagain,forhereyewasgoingblackandthescar onhercheeklookedhorrible.
Finallyitwasseveno’clockandDrBiggsarrived,butJim stillhadn’tcomehome.
‘He’llhavegonetothepub,’Adeleadmitted.
DrBiggssighedandlookedatMrsPattersonwhohadthe kindoflookthatsaid‘Iexpectedasmuch.’Shebeckoned
forthedoctortocomeintothefrontbedroomwithher, pointedlyclosingthedoorbehindthem.
‘Ourdadgoesdownthepubtoo,’Tommysaid,lookingupfromdrawingmoustachesonpeopleinanold magazine.
AdelehadknownthePattersonboysfrombirthandliked themagreatdeal,eveniftheywerefunny-lookingwithpale faces,sticking-upblackhairandscabbyknees.Asshehad alwaystakenTommytoschoolwithPamela,sheknewhim best–hewascheeky,noisyandsometimesabitrough,but lovabletoo.Hehaddonehisbesttomakeherlaughtoday; evenhisremarkabouthisdadgoingtothepubwasintended tomakeherfeelbetter.ButAdelecouldn’treallyrespond, shewasstrainingherearstohearwhatMrsPattersonand thedoctorweretalkingabout.
Meanwhilebothadultsweredoingtheirbesttokeeptheir voicesdown.
‘I’llhavetomakeareporttotheauthorities,’thedoctor saidsadly.‘IsuspectJim’sgotnointentionoftakingcareof Adele,andwecan’tletitgoonandon.Isthereanyother family?Grandparents,auntsoruncles?’
‘Jim’sgotasistersomewhereupnorth,’Anniereplied. ‘Butheneverseesher.IfRose’sgotanyfamilythey’venever beenhere.’
‘Noparents?’thedoctorasked.
‘Idon’tthinkso,’MrsPattersonreplied.‘Shegrewupin Sussex,bythesea,that’sallIknow.’
‘I’llaskJimwhenIgetholdofhim,’thedoctorsaid.‘If herparentsarestillalive,maybethey’llhelpout.’
‘Ihopeso.Itgrievesmetothinkofthatsweetgirlgoing toanorphanage,’AnniePattersonsaid,andhervoicehada kindofbreakinitasthoughshewascrying.
‘I’llwriteanoteforJim,andAdelecanleaveitupstairs forhimwhileshegetssomeclothes.’
‘Idoubthecanevenread,’Anniesaidscornfully.‘He’s notthefullshilling,youknow.’
‘Iknow,’DrBiggsagreed.Hiswifehadinformedhimof thatlastnight.Sheheardallthegossipintheneighbourhood. Accordingtowhatshe’dbeentold,Jim’sfamily,theTalbots, hadbeenanotoriousfamilyinSomersTownbackinthe early 1900s,theboysallvillainsandthugs,thegirlstarts,and theparentsevenworse.Jimwastheyoungestofeight,and generallyknowntobebackward.Hejoinedupin 1917 when hewaseighteen,anditwasassumedhemusthavebeenkilled inFrance,asatleastthreeofhisbrothershadbeen,forhe didn’treturn.Hisparentsandthetwoyoungersisterswho werestilllivingathomediedinthefluepidemicof 1919. EveryonewasastoundedwhenJimTalbotsuddenly turnedupagaininSomersTownfouryearslater.Notonly becausehehadsurvivedthewarwhichhadtakensomany oftheyoungmeninthearea,buthecamebackwithapretty, well-bredwifeandafour-year-olddaughtertoo.Theywere evenmoreastoundedwhenhemanagedtoholddownajob atawoodyard,andtheydiscoveredthathiswifewasn’ta slutashismotherandsistershadbeen.
InthelightofwhatDrBiggshadheardthepreviousnight, itseemedlikelythatRoseTalbotonlymarriedJimasalast resort,becauseshewascarryinganotherman’schild.He thoughtthatyearsoflivingwithamanshedidn’tlove,in considerablyreducedcircumstancescomparedtowhatshe wasusedto,hadcausedahugeresentmenttowardsAdele togrow.
DrBiggscouldn’tfindverymuchsympathyforRose,who hadnorighttoblameaninnocentchildforhermistakesor misfortune.ButhedidfeelalittleforJim,forhehad beenupagainstitfrombirth.Nodoubthe’dconsultedhis workmatestoday,andthey’dallencouragedhimtoreject Adele.Perhapshealsothoughtofitasawayofshowing Rosehewastiredofbeingherprovideranddoormat.
‘I’llwriteanoteanyway,’hesaid.‘ButI’llcomeround againinthemorningandtrytocatchJim.’
Adelewalkedupthestairsveryreluctantly,thenotefromDr Biggsinherhand.Shewasscaredofgoingintotheflat,it wasonlygoingtomakeherthinkabouthermotherwiththe knifeagain.Asherdadhadn’tcomebacktospeaktoDr Biggsitwasclearhedidn’tcarewhathappenedtoher.She wisheditwasshe,notPamela,whowasdead.
Assheopenedthedooroftheflatandturnedonthelight, Adelefeltsick.Thesaucepansandbrokenplateswerestill onthefloor,andtherewasabloodstainonthetablecloth, alongwiththeknife.Itsmellednastytoo,ofdrink,cigarettes, herdad’ssweatandsocks.Shewantedtorunrightoutand nevercomebackagain,butshesteeledherselftogointoher bedroomandcollectherthings.
Shedidn’thavemuchtocollect,justherbestSundayskirt andjumper,onecleanvest,schoolblouse,knickersandpair ofsocks,hershoesandgymslip.Shewasabouttoputher thingsinherschoolsatchelwhensherememberedtherewas asmallsuitcaseonthetopofthewardrobeinherparents’ room.
Theirbedroomstankevenworsethanthelivingroom, andthebedwasn’tmade.Thereweremorebloodstainson thepillows,shesupposedfromthecutonherdad’scheek. Shestoodthereatthedressing-tablelookingatherselfinthe mirrorforamoment.
Shelookedawful,shethought,itwasnowondernoone wantedher.Evenbeforeshegottheblackeyeandthe scaronhercheekshehadn’tbeenpretty.Dull,straggly, biscuit-colouredhair,sallowskin,evenhereyesweren’ta propercolourlikebrownorblue,theywereagreenishcolour thatMumhadoncesaidwaslikecanalwater.
Itwasnowonderhermumwasangrythatherpretty daughtergotkilledinsteadoftheplainone.
Pullingupthebedroomchair,Adeleclimbedontoitto reachthesuitcase,andasshelifteditdownshesawitwas coveredinathickblanketofdust.Sheputitonthebedand wipeditoff withtheedgeofthebedspread.
Therewasnothingbutafewoldlettersinside,butasshe scoopedthemup,intendingtoputthemintothedressingtabledrawer,shesuddenlyrememberedthatthedoctorhad beenaskingwhethertheyhadanyrelatives.
Sheflickedthroughtheletters,buttheyallseemedtobe fromthesamepersonandaddressedtoherfather.She openedoneandsawitwasfromhissisterinManchester. Disappointed,shebundledthemalluptogether,butasafew felloff thepileandshebenttoretrievethem,shenoticed oneinquitedifferenthandwritingwhichwasaddressedto MissRoseHarris,hermother’smaidenname.
Theenvelopehadturnedayellowish-brownwithage,and itwasn’tevensenttothisaddress.Butasshehelditinher handlookingatit,shesuddenlyrecalledMrsPatterson’s wordsearlier:‘IthinkshegrewupinSussex,bythesea.’
ThisletterwasaddressedtoCurlewCottage,Winchelsea Beach,nrRye,Sussex.
Ashermotherhadnevermentionedherparents,Adele thoughttheymustbedead,butshewascuriousaboutwho thisletterwasfromandpulleditoutoftheenvelope.Itwas fromsomeoneinTunbridgeWellsinKent,dated 8 July 1915. ‘DearRose,’sheread.
Iwassothrilledtohearfromyouafterallthistime.Imissedyou terriblyafteryouleft,andallthegirlsaskifI’vehadanynewsofyou. Isupposeitisabitdulllivingrightoutinthecountry,butthenit’s dulleverywherewhenallpeoplecantalkaboutisthewar.Lotsofthe girlsatschoolhavelosttheirfathersandbrothers,I’mgladmyfather doesn’thavetogoandthatIhaven’tgotbrothersoldenough.Ihope yourfatherkeepssafe.
