The Pawnbroker's Niece Read online

  She asked at reception for the whereabouts of William Brodie and, although it was not visiting hours, her manner was such that she received the information she required and was not prevented from proceeding to the ward where he had been taken.

  Margaret hated hospitals. Their distinctive smell of disinfectant and floor polish was mixed up with a natural fear of death. Too often people didn’t come out, except feet first. The corridors seemed endless and voices were muted. It was as if people were scared to speak aloud of the thing they dreaded in case it came to pass. She came to the ward and pushed open the door.

  The ward sister looked up at the pale-faced, upright figure. ‘You can’t come in here. Visiting hours are…’ Her voice trailed off as Margaret ignored her and walked past her desk.

  She hurried along the long line of metal-framed narrow beds with their coughing, moaning or unconscious patients. She almost walked past William. It was he who called her name and brought her up short. The lack of strength in his voice frightened her. She looked down at him and knew she was going to have a fight on her hands if she was to keep him alive.

  *

  Rita placed a steaming bowl of soup in front of Sam, who said, ‘This looks good. But d’yer think it’s all right us eating her food without permission?’ He cocked an eyebrow.

  She laughed. ‘Come off it, Sam! Think of all those eggs you stole from farms. Besides, she’s my aunt so it’s not stealing. Just eat, then you’re coming out with me.’

  He grinned. ‘OK! Perhaps I’m being overzealous in wanting to win her over to believe I’m the perfect lodger. But will she let us in again if she gets back before us?’

  Rita winked. ‘I know where the spare key’s kept.’

  It was eight o’clock in the evening and there was still no sign of Margaret. Rita had decided to waste no more time hanging around but to visit the yard. It was the only place she could think of where her aunt might be. Jimmy was the last person Rita wanted to bump into but she knew that, sooner or later, she would have to face him — and anyway, she would not be alone.

  *

  Tears rolled down Margaret’s cheeks as she held tightly onto William’s hand. Over his head hung a notice saying NIL BY MOUTH. He had dozed off and soon she would have to go. The ward sister had told her to leave but she had refused and the nurse had gone away. From the staff’s behaviour she sensed they didn’t hold out much hope for him, but she was not going to give up yet. She would get him out of this place. He needed special nursing and here there were too many other patients; if he caught an infection from any of them it could finish him off.

  She rose from the chair and wiped her tears away. Time to do something! Squaring her shoulders, she marched down the ward to where the sister was sitting at a desk, watching her. She guessed that the woman hated visitors disturbing her routine.

  ‘I want to see whichever doctor is looking after Mr Brodie,’ said Margaret imperiously. ‘I can pay and if you don’t pussyfoot around I’ll give this hospital a generous donation. I want him out of here and taken to this nursing home.’ She picked up the fountain pen from the sister’s desk and wrote an address in perfect copperplate. ‘And I want it done as soon as possible.’

  *

  Rita stood gazing at the shop window, wondering who was responsible for smashing it. They had just returned from Brodie’s yard where she had received triple shocks. She could only guess her aunt had gone to the hospital. Poor Mr Brodie, not expected to live. She would be upset. Then there was the news that Jimmy had gone to America! He would never have done so if he’d known Mr Brodie was so ill. After all, he had always wanted the yard. Still, she was glad he was out of the way but sad that Billy had gone off too.

  ‘Are we going to stay out here all night?’ asked Sam, hunching his shoulders against the cold. ‘Your aunt might be in by now.’

  ‘Let’s hope so.’ Rita opened the door to the private entrance. Feeling her way along the darkened lobby she called her aunt, but there was no response.

  *

  It was gone eleven before everything was arranged to Margaret’s satisfaction, and now she was on her way home. She felt worn out and was still worried sick about William but she had done her best and had to be content with that.

  She entered the house and almost immediately heard Rita’s infectious chuckle and then a responding male laughter. Only then did she remember that her niece had come home with a young tramp. Margaret pushed open the door and saw Rita perched on the edge of a chair, smiling down at Sam. He was kneeling on the rug but as soon as he saw Margaret he rose to his feet and stood with his hands clasped in front of his chest, wearing an expression that reminded her of a dog expecting to be thrown out.

  She thought fretfully that it wasn’t fair of Rita expecting her to take him in. What was she supposed to do with him? If she told him to go Rita said that she’d leave as well. Oh, what it was to be young and have the courage of your convictions! Rita reminded her of herself as a girl, prepared to go to the other side of the world. Adventure had beckoned and she could be with the man she believed worthy of her love; they would be working in harness for God.

  How could her father have destroyed the letter most likely summoning her to be with Alan?

  Gazing down at the two young people, she was filled with anger, envy and despair. They had their lives before them and most likely would find love and companionship and have children, whereas she had more years behind her than in front of her. Her past could have been so different. Yet she should be thankful to Rita for shocking her out of her shell. Otherwise she would never have met up with William again. But maybe it was too late and she would lose him.

  Panic gripped her and a sharp pain darted through her left breast. Sweat broke out on her forehead and her mouth went dry. She was going to die! Stretching out a hand to Rita, she gasped, ‘Please, help me!’ Then she slid down the wall into a heap on the floor.

  Rita flew over to her and fumbled for a pulse, scared out of her wits. It was a relief to feel the beat, beat, beat. A minute later Margaret stirred. Her eyelids fluttered open but her eyes looked blank. That was enough for Rita to say to Sam, ‘I’m going for the doctor. You stay with her.’

  ‘Will I get her onto the sofa?’ He looked nervous. ‘I mean, will she let me touch her?’

  ‘Just stay with her.’ Rita delayed no longer and ran out of the house.

  The doctor who lived above his surgery was not pleased at being roused from his bed but when the maid told him who needed him and what had happened he did not delay. He put his overcoat over his pyjamas and grabbed his black bag.

  By the time they reached the house, Margaret was lying on the sofa with her eyes closed. Her face was pale and clammy. Rita thought she looked dreadful. The doctor took out his stethoscope and told Rita to make some hot sweet tea. ‘You’ve had a shock,’ he said.

  Rita dragged Sam into the scullery. ‘Will she go to hospital? Can we stay here if she does? I’d almost forgotten what it was like to be so warm and have a full belly,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t want her to go into hospital,’ said Rita fiercely. ‘This is my fault. I shouldn’t have told her about the letter — and on top of that Mr Brodie could die. Perhaps he’s already dead! She used to get real mad at him and threaten to take his business but she’s known him for years and used to be in love with him.’

  When the doctor called Rita she was pleased to see that, although Margaret looked exhausted still, her colour was much better.

  ‘She’s had several upsets lately from what she’s told me,’ said the doctor, writing out a prescription. ‘I’m pretty certain that her heart’s fine and it’s her nerves that are letting her down. I’ve given her an injection and she’s to take the tablets I’ve prescribed. See that she rests and don’t let her get worked up over things.’

  ‘Your bill, Doctor,’ whispered Margaret, her eyelids fluttering.

  He wrote with a flourish and placed it on the mantelpiece. ‘Payment will do tomorrow.’

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sp; ‘No. I’ll not be in debt. I’ll pay now.’ She made to get up but the doctor stayed her with a hand. ‘Do as you’re told, Miss Sinclair,’ he said sternly. ‘I’ll not charge you interest. Send this young lady with the money tomorrow, and if you need me again, don’t hesitate to get in touch.’

  Rita offered him a cup of tea. He thanked her with a smile but said that he was for his bed. She saw him out and then returned to the kitchen. She would have liked to ask her aunt how Mr Brodie was but knew this was not the time and offered instead to help her upstairs.

  Margaret thanked her but said she would stay where she was for a while longer and could Rita put a hot-water bottle in her bed. She took a key from about her neck and handed it to her. She trusts me, marvelled Rita, and filled the hot-water bottle and took it up to her aunt’s room.

  She gazed about her, remembering that first night she had spent there after Margaret had chopped off most of her hair. How they had resented each other — but now they had come to depend on each other. Rita gripped her bottom lip between her teeth to stop it trembling and then hurried downstairs to help her aunt to bed.

  ***

  When Margaret woke it was daylight but she still felt as weak as one of those women who’d had the blood sucked out of them by that vampire creature played by Bela Lugosi. She tried to sit up, found it a struggle and was aware of a rising panic. There was so much to do. William to visit…the house in Abercromby Square to cancel. She felt a momentary overwhelming disappointment. She had come so close to getting her dream house, but thank God she had not signed the lease and had money to draw on to pay William’s medical bills and to keep his business going.

  Rita appeared with a tray. ‘You OK?’ she said cheerfully.

  Her solicitude made Margaret want to weep but old habits die hard. ‘I’m not dead yet,’ she said gruffly. ‘Has that scruffy little tramp you brought home run off with my money yet?’

  ‘With you here? He wouldn’t dare! He’s making the fire and I’ve told him to light one up here, too.’

  Margaret was shocked. She had never had a fire in her bedroom in her life. ‘Think of the expense of all that extra wood and coal! I’m getting up!’ But when she tried to stand she realised how weak she was and sat down quickly.

  Rita said anxiously, ‘Are you OK? Need help?’

  Margaret put her head in her hands and wept.

  ‘Oh, don’t cry!’ said Rita, sitting on the bed and putting an arm round her. ‘You’re going to be fine. Get into bed and have your cup of tea and I’ll go and get the tablets the doctor prescribed.’

  Margaret wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I need the lavatory.’

  ‘Use the po!’

  ‘I’d rather go downstairs, and besides, I want to wash my hands and face…and thinking of washing, has that young man had a bath yet?’

  Rita smiled. ‘I thought I’d give him the money to go to Cornwallis Street and have a bath there. It’ll be less messing. I’ve still got a few bob from the money Mam gave me, so I’ll pay.’

  ‘Eve gave you money?’

  Rita chuckled. ‘How did you think I got home? I was skint.’ She got up from the bed. ‘D’you want me to help you downstairs?’

  ‘Later. I’ll do what you say and drink my tea first.’ She looked up at her niece and there was warmth in her dark eyes. ‘Thank you, Rita.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Coming home.’ Her voice was husky.

  ‘Get away with you!’ said Rita, but she was touched and left the bedroom before she started crying, too.

  *

  In the past Margaret had scorned those women who took to their beds with nerves but now she understood how they felt. She was exhausted and the least effort or worry could bring on a panic attack. Even so, she could not stop herself worrying about William and his business. Ten days had gone by since she had seen him, and despite Rita having made several telephone calls on her behalf at the nearest post office, and having reassured her that he was in a stable condition at the nursing home, she fretted.

  So the following Sunday morning when Margaret was sitting in a chair in front of her fire she told Rita to visit him. ‘Get some fruit from that shop that’s open all hours and take it to him. Surely he’ll be able to eat something by now. We could do with getting in touch with the padre. He might know where Billy is and send him a wire.’ She sighed. ‘Oh, why did Alice have to go to America just when Will needs her! And as for Jimmy…’

  ‘I’m sure they’ll write,’ said Rita, not wanting to be reminded of Jimmy. She’d had a period so that was good. ‘Is there anything you want? Chocolate?’

  Margaret looked more cheerful. ‘Chocolate. And make sure you close the side door properly behind you, and that the shop doors are locked. I haven’t really said much about the window being smashed, but I can tell you I’ve never been frightened being here on my own before but I am now. That’s the trouble with having company. You get used to it.’

  ‘What was stolen?’

  ‘Just a few trinkets. The good stuff I keep locked up elsewhere, as you know. I’m worried in case they come up here the next time.’

  Rita did not need to ask who they were. The McGinty lads! But it wasn’t doing her aunt any good talking about break-ins. ‘There’s not going to be a next time because you’re not alone. Sam’s downstairs, remember?’

  ‘That really makes me feel better,’ said Margaret, giving her one of her looks, and reaching beneath her cushion she produced a heavy doorstop. ‘I’m not taking any chances. I was one of the best bowlers in our rounders team when I was young. Now off you go. I’ll decide if I can trust my life to that young man or not.’

  Rita smiled, wondering what Sam would make of her aunt’s defensive action and decided she had best warn him in case he took her up a cup of tea.

  She found him spreading butter liberally on a doorstep round of bread. ‘This is the life,’ he said, grinning at her. ‘We can pretty well do what we like with your aunt ill in bed.’

  ‘You can rid yourself of that attitude,’ said Rita, poking him in the chest. ‘You’re not here for a free ride. If you want to stay once she’s up and about again you’ve got to pull your weight and show her that you’re not only a worker but that you can be trusted with her last farthing.’

  ‘OK! There’s nothing you want me to do today is there? It is Sunday, the day of rest.’ He picked up the Wizard comic from the arm of the chair.

  ‘You know what they say, Sam. There’s no rest for the wicked — even on Sunday. You could dust all that stuff on the top shelves in the shop. It hasn’t been done for God only knows how long. There’s a ladder. Don’t go falling off it.’ She chuckled at his expression. ‘Only joking! But be warned if you take her a cup of tea; don’t make any sudden threatening moves because you’ll end up with a smashed skull. She’s got a doorstop under her cushion.’

  It was the first time she had left him alone in the house with her aunt and she hoped that if they spent just a little time in each other’s company to start with, they would slowly get used to each other.

  Rita felt apprehensive as a nurse showed her to William’s room overlooking the green expanse of Sefton Park, but when she saw him she felt much better. He did look careworn and his skin was pallid but the blue eyes, so like Billy’s, had plenty of life in them. He asked after Margaret.

  ‘She’s getting on OK. The doctor said she’d had too many shocks lately.’ Rita offered him a pear from the fruit she had brought and took one herself.

  ‘You disappearing, for example!’ There was an amused expression on his face as he watched her eat.

  Rita flushed. ‘I had my reasons. Besides, Aunt Margaret guessed I’d gone to see Mam.’

  ‘How is Eve?’

  ‘Mam never changes.’ Rita removed a pip from her teeth and placed it in a handkerchief. ‘She told me a few things I wanted to know but I wasn’t needed there so I came back. I’ve got a younger half-brother.’ She couldn’t disguise the pride in her voice. ‘His n
ame’s Joshua and he’s got the curliest hair. I wish I had curls like his.’

  ‘You should eat more crusts. Although your hair is pretty as it is.’

  She smiled. ‘Mam tried to get me to eat crusts by saying that I’d get curls and I believed her. I wanted blonde curls like hers. I’ve even thought of bleaching my hair, but I think Aunt Margaret would hit the roof. I was amazed when she took notice of me, got her hair cut and had a perm as well. It made her look younger and she’s a nicer person.’

  ‘A woman needs to look her best to feel her best, and that affects her whole outlook.’

  Rita thought what a wise man he was and how well he knew women, but then he’d had two wives so must know something about what makes women tick.

  There was a silence and his eyelids dropped. ‘Are you tired? Would you like me to go?’ She leant towards him. ‘I know I’ve only just come but Aunt Margaret said I mustn’t tire you, just see how you are.’

  William forced his eyes open. ‘No, stay a little longer. Tell me about these other things that have upset Maggie.’

  ‘The shop window was smashed. It was probably the McGintys bent on revenge. Their father didn’t steal from us that time, as you know.’

  ‘It was Jimmy and he got off scot-free. When did the window get smashed?’

  ‘While I was away.’ The expression on his face caused her to add, ‘You don’t think Jimmy did it before he left? She went for him with her cane, you know?’

  William smiled faintly. ‘Billy told me. She’s some woman is Maggie. You’re thinking Jimmy might have done it for spite. It’s possible.’ He sighed. ‘You think you know someone, then find out you don’t at all.’

  ‘How well do you think you know Billy?’

  ‘Better than I used to. There’s lots of things I never gave him the chance to tell me and matters I just couldn’t talk to him about for a long time. I’m glad we got round to doing so before it was too late.’

  She felt as if a cube of ice had been dropped down her back. ‘What d’you mean, “too late”?’

  William grimaced. ‘We never know when the final trumpet’s going to sound for any of us, luv.’