Love or Duty--A saga set in 1920s Liverpool (3 page)

BOOK: Love or Duty--A saga set in 1920s Liverpool
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Penny and her mother were listening intently to Arnold expressing his opinion about what ought to be done when her father returned to the table. Marcus Forshaw quickly took charge again and told them that he had successfully negotiated exactly how they were to proceed.

Although it was imperative that Penny did go along to the police HQ as soon as possible she ought to talk to a solicitor first of all. The solicitor should then accompany her to the police headquarters and speak on her behalf so that there would be no fear of her saying anything in her statement that might later appear to be in any way incriminating.

‘I have telephoned Sidney Porter and given him all the relevant details, so he is checking them out before he comes along here to accompany Penny to the police station.'

‘Now that is all arranged let's hope we are going to have time to finish our lunch before Sidney Porter arrives,' Leonora murmured irritably,

‘We'll have plenty of time, my dear,' Captain Forshaw assured her as he filled his wine glass and looked round the table to see if anyone else wanted their glass topping up.

Leonora sighed dramatically. ‘I do hope Marcus that you can manage to keep all this out of the local newspapers.'

‘I very much doubt if that will be possible,' he told her gloomily.

‘Oh dear you must try! I can't bear to think of all the repercussions it will have if you can't!' Leonora wailed, dabbing at her eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief.

‘What sort of repercussions are you talking about, Mother?' Penny asked in a puzzled voice.

‘All the charities we support and the committees that we are both on, of course, not to mention our many friends. We are so well known in Wallasey that we don't want our name besmirched and our position in local society to be tainted forever. However could you become embroiled in something like this, Penny.'

‘I'm sorry, Mother but it was an accident,' Penny said, struggling to keep back her tears.

‘Yes, my dear, so you keep telling us,' her mother sighed.

‘From what you say it was obviously the child's fault if it ran out into the road,' Marcus Forshaw said consolingly as he picked up his knife and fork and resumed eating.

‘Nevertheless,' he added thoughtfully, ‘we will have to make sure that the matter is handled extremely carefully.'

‘What do you mean?' Arnold asked, looking at him questioningly.

‘I'm thinking that if the child involved comes from a very poor Liverpool family then those sort of people can be very cunning indeed,' Marcus Forshaw stated ominously.

‘You mean they may try to make themselves some money out of a situation like this?' Arnold mused thoughtfully.

‘Yes, that is precisely what I mean. I'm quite sure that is what they will try and do.'

‘Surely, as you have already said, the child was at fault if she ran out into the roadway after a ball,' Arnold pointed out.

‘We know that but if the case goes to court and they can put the blame for the accident on Penny then they may well be hoping for a handsome sum in compensation.'

Penny remained silent; she felt too choked to speak. She could still hear the child's agonized screams ringing in her ears. In that moment she knew that the memory of the scrawny little figure with matted jet-black hair lying in the roadway in front of the car would haunt her forever.

Penny spent a sleepless night, tossing and turning and pondering whether, despite what had been said at lunch, she ought to visit the child and find out how badly hurt she was.

When she had suggested that to Arnold as they had parted the previous evening he had been very scornful of the idea. He'd told her not to be such an idiot and to stay well clear of them. He reminded her what her father had said about them trying to make money by asking for excessive compensation when the case went to court.

It was much the same advice as her father's solicitor, Mr Porter, had given her. He had in fact been quite adamant on that point when she had suggested contacting the hospital to enquire after the child.

Her mother had refused to talk about any of it saying that it made her feel quite unwell to do so. Nevertheless Penny felt she had a duty to try and find out how badly hurt the child was and if there was anything she could do to help.

She worried about it all the next day but there wasn't very much she could do on a Sunday without either her parents or Arnold discovering what she was up to.

Penny spent another restless night and then on Monday morning knowing that her father and Arnold would both be at work and her mother was attending one of her numerous committee meetings she decided to take matters into her own hands.

She resolved she would go over to Liverpool and see what she could find out.

Three

Penny Forshaw paused at the entrance to Cannon Court and held her breath wondering if she had the nerve to go any further.

She had never visited the Scotland Road area of Liverpool before but she had heard about it. Now that she was here she was appalled not only by all the dirt and dreadful smells but also by the abject poverty that she could see all around her.

She stopped by the house marked number five, trying to pluck up the courage to go through with her mission.

For a minute she wondered if perhaps she should have listened to her family's advice after all.

As she stood there debating whether to go up the steps to the scabby front door or down to the equally battered looking door in the basement, a woman carrying a baby wrapped in a shawl came along the road. She stopped by the stone steps where Penny was standing. ‘You looking for someone, luv?' she asked, hitching the baby higher in her arms, almost as if it was a bundle of washing she was carrying.

‘Yes, as a matter of fact I am. I'm looking for the Murphy's house.'

‘In that case then you've found it. I'm Ellen Murphy.' Her sharp dark eyes narrowed as she stared in a hostile way at Penny. ‘If you've come asking about why our Kelly hasn't been to school then I can explain,' she added in a hard voice.

‘No, no, it's nothing like that at all,' Penny said quickly.

The two women stared at each other in silence for a moment; one smartly dressed in a crisp green and white outfit, the other slatternly and drab in a black skirt and stained dark red blouse.

‘Was you the woman that was driving that motor car that knocked our Kelly down?' Ellen Murphy rasped in an accusing voice.

Penny bit her lip and then nodded her head. She felt unable to admit it out loud for fear of how the woman might react.

‘My Kelly's in a bad way,' Mrs Murphy stated aggressively. ‘As well as having a broken leg she has cuts and bruises all over her.'

‘I'm so sorry,' Penny said quickly. ‘She ran out into the road after her ball, you know. I didn't have a chance to stop in time. There was no way I could avoid hitting her,' she added defensively.

Ellen Murphy sniffed disbelievingly and hitched the baby into a more comfortable position.

‘Is she still in hospital?' Penny asked.

‘Course she bloody well isn't. They turfed her out the very next day and insisted that I should take her home and look after her there. Her leg's in a sodding great splint and what's more she can't walk.'

‘Oh, I am so sorry,' Penny murmured. ‘It must be very worrying for you.'

‘Bloody nuisance since she has to share a bed with two of my other kids. We had a real night of it last night, I can tell you. They woke up screaming when Kelly kicked them with that great splint and then she woke up crying because one of them was lying on her bad leg. It's bloody hell for all of us, I can tell you.'

‘I'm so sorry to hear all this, Mrs Murphy,' Penny said apologetically. ‘If she is at home then can I come in and see her?'

Ellen Murphy stared at Penny for a long moment. ‘Yes,' she agreed finally, with a shrug of her shoulders. ‘I suppose you can; that's if you're not afraid of dirtying your fine clothes.'

Penny bit her lip and said nothing. She felt dreadfully uncomfortable. She could sense the anger and frustration bubbling up inside Ellen Murphy. Whether it was against her, blaming her for Kelly's accident, or whether it was against the whole world she wasn't sure.

‘Come on then, I can't stand out here in the street jangling all day,' Ellen said ungraciously as she turned and led the way down the cracked and jagged stone steps to the basement area.

‘Watch how you go,' she called over her shoulder as she kicked a screwed-up piece of greasy newspaper, that looked as though it had once held fish and chips, out of the way.

As Ellen Murphy pushed open the battered black door and led the way into a dark and dingy passage, Penny almost choked on the putrid smell that assailed her nostrils. It seemed to be a mixture of sick, urine and stale cooking all rolled into one.

She could hear a child crying; a thin, plaintiff whining cry that went right through her head.

‘That's young Kelly moaning,' Ellen Murphy told her. ‘She's in bed down here,' she added leading the way along the passage.

Penny took out her handkerchief and held it over her nose as she followed Ellen Murphy. She shuddered as something soft and furry brushed against her ankle, hoping it was a cat and not a rat.

The room Ellen Murphy led her into was airless; the small window looked out on to a brick wall and was so streaked with dirt that it let in very little light. Penny wondered if it had ever been opened.

There were two beds crammed into the room; one was a single and the other a three-quarter bed that was jammed tight up against the wall at one side.

The space between the two beds was so narrow that Penny had to edge along sideways to reach Kelly who was lying in a midst of rumpled bedclothes in the larger bed. Her small face was streaked with tears. She looked so thin and unkempt that Penny's heart went out to her.

As she saw the grazes and deep lacerations on the child's face and arms Penny wanted to gather her up, smooth the greasy hair back from her little elfin face and try and comfort her.

As Penny approached the bed Kelly pulled the grubby sheet up over her face so that only her eyes were visible.

‘What you grizzling about now?' Ellen asked as she leaned forward and pulled back the sheet. ‘Come on, sit up and show the lady your bad leg.'

Kelly tugged hard at the sheet and cowered back down, sneaking a sideways glance at Penny as if not at all sure who she was and half afraid that she might be in some sort of trouble.

Ellen pulled it back, completely exposing the child who was wearing only a dirty vest that was wrinkled halfway up her body.

Penny gasped and her heart beat faster as she saw the heavy plaster cast on the child's leg.

Kelly looked fearfully from her mother to Penny and back again and then tried to lift her leg in the air but the weight of the plaster made it impossible for her to do so and her sobs became louder.

‘You can see for yourself that she's pretty badly hurt,' Ellen Murphy stated with a triumphant note in her voice.

Penny nodded, too overcome to speak. She wanted to comfort the child but she knew that she must not do so. Her father's warning words about the possibility of the family suing for damages when the case came to court rang in her head.

‘Time you were up,' Ellen told Kelly harshly. ‘I can't keep running backwards and forwards waiting on you all day. Come along.' Catching hold of Kelly's arm Ellen hauled the child off the bed and on to her feet.

Kelly swayed and then clutched wildly at the bed frame as she tried to balance. As she put her weight on her injured leg she let out a yelp of pain the moment her foot touched the ground. Tears rolled down her cheeks but she brushed them away with the back of her hand.

‘Come on, I haven't the time to stand here all day,' Ellen muttered, hitching the baby higher in her arms and grabbing hold of Kelly by one shoulder and half lifting, half dragging her. ‘Into the kitchen with you and I'll find you a crust. You'd better come along as well and I'll make us both a cuppa and we can have a talk,' she added looking over her shoulder at Penny.

The kitchen was at the far end of the passage. It was a narrow room with an oblong table in the centre of it. On one side of it, under the window that looked out on to a yard that was cluttered with a miscellany of junk, there was a wooden bench seat. On the other side were three wooden chairs. The centre slat was missing in the back of one of the chairs and the seats of the other two were stained with spilled food and drink.

A tousled-haired little girl who looked about two years old was tied into a rickety high chair. She was picking up food with her fingers from an enamel bowl that was on the tray in front of her. Another child, a boy who appeared to be a couple of years younger than Kelly, was sitting on the floor pushing a battered tin car backwards and forwards and making zooming noises as he did so.

Ellen Murphy pushed Kelly towards the bench and left her to struggle on to it. She dumped the baby she was carrying into a dilapidated wicker clothes basket on the floor. Then, delving into the pocket of her skirt, she brought out a dummy and jammed it into the baby's mouth. Picking up a box of matches she lighted the gas ring that was standing on top of a low wooden cupboard and put a tin kettle on top of it to boil.

Kelly was whimpering in a high-pitched whine and the small girl banged her metal dish on the tray to try and attract attention.

‘Shut up the lot of yer,' Ellen Murphy yelled at them. ‘Let's be having a bit of quiet while I talk to this lady. Sit yourself down,' she ordered, wiping crumbs from the seat of one of the chairs with her skirt before pushing it towards Penny.

Penny hesitated for a moment because there was still a greasy patch on the seat of the chair but decided that there was nothing she could do about it so smiled politely and accepted.

‘So you were the one who knocked our Kelly down, were you,' Ellen Murphy stated triumphantly. ‘As you can see her leg's broken and they says at the hospital that she won't be able to walk properly for a month or more. She's hurt her arm and shoulder as well and she's bruises all over. How the hell I'm going to manage to look after her for that length of time I don't know. Brian's a little terror and I needs to be keeping my eye on him most of the day as well as Lily who's into everything unless I keep her tied into the high chair,' she rattled on as she banged a couple of chipped cups down on to the table in front of Penny.

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