Sins of the Father (41 page)

‘What did he say?’

‘He’s disgusted that you were bringing your daughter up in a brothel and…I’m afraid he said you’re getting what you deserve.’

Emma paled, but then a glimmer of light appeared in her eyes. ‘Oh, Dick, do you think Dad took her?’

‘Don’t be daft, of course he didn’t. Anyway, from what the police said it sounds like she ran away.’

‘But she didn’t. I’m sure someone took her. I heard someone lurking in the bushes the night before she went missing.’

‘Well, it wasn’t Dad, that’s for sure. It’s more likely to be one of your punters, the sort that likes little girls.’

‘Don’t you think I know that?’ Emma cried, her stomach churning. ‘I’m sick at the thought, but
we didn’t cater for those types. If one turned up looking for a child, he was soon thrown out.’

‘Emma, listen to yourself! So dodgy blokes were thrown out, good for you, but you and your daughter lived below a brothel–
your
brothel.’

This was the first time Emma had seen her brother in many years, and she wanted to throw herself in his arms, yet his lack of sympathy held her back. Tinker, her beautiful little girl, was missing, and instead of comfort, Dick seemed to be rubbing salt in the wound. She knew it was her fault, knew that if anything happened to her daughter she wouldn’t be able to carry on, wouldn’t want to live without her.

‘Oh, Dick, you say you found forgiveness in your heart for Dad. Why can’t you feel the same way for me?’

‘I have forgiven you, Emma, but you wouldn’t close the place down. How could I associate with someone who runs a brothel? It would be like condoning it. Surely you can understand that?’

‘It’s closed now and I live next door.’

‘I’m glad to hear that, Emma, but it’s a shame that it took something like this to bring you to your senses. I tried to warn you–Luke too. If you’d listened to us, none of this would have happened.’

So Dick thought the same–that Tinker had been taken as punishment. She couldn’t bear it.

‘Don’t you think I know that? Oh, please, just go away, just leave me alone.’

‘But…Em…’

Emma didn’t wait to hear anything else he had to say, and if she hadn’t been so exhausted from walking the streets, she’d have run the rest of the way home.

It only took her ten minutes to reach the house. She closed the door behind her and slumped against it, finding that the empty house seemed to mock her. For a brief moment her heart had leaped when she’d seen Dick, and when he had mentioned their father, she had been stupid to hope, if only for a second, that he had taken Tinker. He had never been a parent to any of them, leaving their upbringing to their mother, and almost as soon as she died, off-loading two of the boys on to Alice Moon. He wouldn’t want Tinker, having shown no interest in his grandchild since the day she’d been born. Emma staggered away from the door, only just making it to the kitchen where she slumped, desolate, onto a chair.

Another five days passed, days in which Emma continued to walk the streets looking for Tinker. Doris still came round every morning, sometimes joining her on the search, and only her friendship kept Emma going. Doris nagged her to eat, but Emma could barely face food and when
encouraged to wash, she would just dash a damp flannel over her face. She hadn’t seen Terry, Doris assuring her that he was still looking for Tinker, going out of the borough as his search widened.

When there was a knock on the door, Emma felt a surge of hope as she went to answer it. Dick stood on the step, a woman just behind him and, thinking it was Mandy, Emma stood aside to let them in.

‘Hello, Emma.’

As her eyes focused on the woman, they widened in shock. It couldn’t be! ‘Susan, oh my God, Susan!’

‘Oh, Emma, when I called round to see Dad and he told me, I just had to come.’

‘I…I can’t believe it,’ she said, clutching Susan as they hugged, unwilling to let her go.

It was some time before they parted, and then Emma took her siblings through to the kitchen, still reeling with shock. Susan looked wonderful, the ugly duckling turning into a beautiful swan. Her short, blonde hair was shining, her skin perfect, with just a touch of make-up, and she was wearing a fashionable suit, pale blue with a short skirt and box jacket.

There was so much to catch up on. Emma learned that Ann and Bella were fine, both still living at home, happy and well.

‘Did…did you ever get my letters?’ Emma asked.

‘No, I’m afraid not. We were hurt at first, thinking that you didn’t care about us any more. We wanted to write to you but Dad told us that you had moved and he didn’t have your address.’

‘Oh, how could he?’

‘It was wrong of him, dreadful, but you hurt him badly.’

‘I hurt him? What about what he did to me?’

‘Emma, I know Dad was no angel, and you have every right to be bitter, but he’s a different man now. He works hard, hardly drinks, and, well…he’s been a good father to us. In fact, he went very quiet when the police called to see him, so I’m sure the news about your daughter upset him too. Polly said he’s been acting very strangely and he keeps disappearing for long walks, but won’t talk about where he’s been. Oh, Em, I’m sure he’s feeling for you. Can’t there be reconciliation? When I go back, if I ask Dad to come to see you, I feel sure he’d be down here like a shot, especially now that Dick tells me that you’re not running a…a brothel any more.’

Emma sat quietly, pondering her sister’s words, but uppermost in her mind was her daughter. All she cared about at the moment was getting Tinker back, her mind unable to focus on anything else. ‘I don’t know, maybe, but I can’t think about it at the moment.’

‘Of course you can’t,’ Susan said, gently patting the back of Emma’s hand. ‘Is there any news of her?’

‘No, none.’ Emma choked back a sob. She felt arms around her shoulders, and leaned back against Dick. ‘It’s my fault, I know that, and like you I think this is God’s punishment.’

‘Oh, no, Em, you’re wrong. I don’t think that. God isn’t interested in earthly things. They are for our own consciences to deal with. If we sin, we damage our souls, keeping us away from Him. It’s our spiritual wellbeing that He cares about. He is a loving God, a forgiving God, and will be there if you turn to Him for comfort.’

Emma began to cry, to sob, and it was some time before she was able to pull herself together. Dick sounded so assured, but she was unable to draw comfort from his words. She
had
turned to God,
had
begged his forgiveness, but Tinker was still missing.

Susan grasped her hand, squeezing it, whilst Dick had his resting on her shoulders.

‘How…how are Bella and Ann?’ Emma asked when she had recovered.

‘They’re fine, and anxious to see you, but after discussing it we felt that you have enough to cope with at the moment. It’s better to wait to see them until Tinker is safely home.’

‘And…and Dad. He’s going to allow it?’

‘Yes, of course he is. Anyway, we aren’t children any more, Em.’

Emma returned the pressure of her sister’s hand, feeling the connection, the ties of blood. Dick and Susan were part of her family, a family she had thought lost to her.
Oh, Tinker, Tinker, where are you? They’re your family too, and like me, they will love you so much
.

Dick and Susan stayed for another two hours, and when they rose to leave, Emma clung to them.

‘Don’t worry,’ Dick said. ‘We’ll be back.’

She forced a smile, finding some comfort in her brother’s words, but as she closed the door, the empty house wrapped around her again and she felt more alone than ever.

During the months that followed, the weight fell off Emma. In despair, and an emotional wreck, she hadn’t been able to cope with the thought of reconciliation with her father, though Dick and Mandy called to see her once a week. Susan kept in touch, ringing her constantly, and Emma spoke to Bella and Ann, but by now Emma hardly ate, hardly slept, and had almost given up hope.

Doris called round regularly, and one afternoon in spring they sat in the kitchen, Emma endeavouring to swallow the tea that her friend had made.

‘Emma, you’ve got to eat, love. Christ, it’s beginning to look like you’re starving yourself to death.’

‘I…I’m not hungry.’

‘Don’t give up, Em. The police still might find her, and Terry’s still looking.’

‘Is he? I didn’t realise. It’s been ages since I’ve seen him.’

‘It breaks his heart to see you like this. I think that’s why he’s staying away.’

Emma said nothing, finding it difficult to summon up the energy to talk. Doris still insisted that she and Terry were just friends, but Emma doubted this was true. When had she finally admitted to herself that she loved Terry? Emma didn’t know, but it was too late now. The man had moved on and she didn’t blame him. Anyway, she wasn’t fit to love, or be loved.

‘Try a bit of this soup, Em. Please, love.’

She lifted the spoon, managing to swallow a mouthful, but every time she tried to eat she felt it would choke her. How could she eat? How could she take any sustenance whilst her daughter might still be in the hands of a monster? Or even worse, dead?

‘Go on, just a few more spoonfuls,’ Doris urged. ‘You’ll need a bit of strength if you want to hand out those leaflets again.’

Emma managed to nod. Yes, she had pawned more of her things to get them printed and would go out again, but knew deep in her heart that there was little hope now. Dick and Mandy were helping too, using the resources of the Salvation Army but, like her, they’d been unsuccessful.

Emma stared at the bowl of soup, unable to eat any more. If her beloved child was still alive, she’d have been found by now, yet while her body
allowed, Emma would continue to look. After that, she wanted only one thing. If she couldn’t be with her daughter in life, then she hoped to be with her in death.

‘I ain’t seen Terry for days,’ Doris said, but Emma was hardly listening. ‘He’s gone off somewhere again, but Gawd knows where.’

Emma closed her eyes, seeing her daughter’s face behind closed lids. ‘I think she’s dead, Doris.’

‘Oh, don’t say that, love. Of course she ain’t.’

Emma didn’t answer, and for a while the two of them sat quietly. When there was a knock on the street door, it was Doris who went to answer it, returning with two police officers.

When Emma saw the expression on their faces, the room spun.
Oh God! No! Please, no!

She became aware of a hand on her arm, Doris holding a glass to her lips, and as her head cleared, one of the officers spoke.

‘Mrs Bell, we’ve finally managed to trace your husband.’

‘Horace! You’ve found Horace? Did he…have you found her?’

‘No, I’m afraid not.’

Emma slumped, running a hand over her face. ‘I told you he wouldn’t take her.’

‘Your husband was living under an assumed name and that’s why he’s been difficult to find.’ The policeman paused, clearing his throat. ‘I’m
afraid I have some bad news, Mrs Bell. You see, when we finally traced him, it was to find that he had died a month ago.’

Emma looked tiredly at the officer. ‘Our marriage has been over for a long time and, to be honest, I don’t care. All I want is for you to find my daughter. Please, isn’t there
any
news?’

‘No, I’m afraid not. Anyway, Mrs Bell,’ he added, handing her a card, ‘you may want to get in touch with this solicitor. Apparently your late husband left a large estate.’

Emma shook her head, refusing to accept it, ignoring it when the police officer laid it on the table. Horace was dead, but it didn’t touch her. She had no interest in his estate, no interest in money now. The only thing she wanted was to have her daughter back.

Doris showed the men out, returning to sit at the table. ‘Fancy that, Em. Your old man’s kicked the bucket and it seems he’s left a pretty penny. You were daft to burn your money, so this is a godsend.’

‘I don’t want it. I don’t want anything from him.’ With a strangled cry she blurted, ‘Oh, Doris, when I first saw the expression on those policemen’s faces, I thought they’d come to tell me that they’d found Tinker, that she was dead. Do you know what’s worse? For a split second I wanted it to be true, to be put out of my misery.’

‘Oh, Em, you don’t mean that.’

‘No, of course I don’t, but just for a brief moment I wanted this agony to be over, to know once and for all what’s happened to my precious baby.’

‘They’ll find her, I’m sure of it.’

Emma choked back a sob. ‘I’m going out with the leaflets again. There’s only been one possible sighting, and that was at Clapham Junction station.’

‘That was months ago.’

‘I know, but I can’t think of anywhere else to try.’

‘All right, love. I can’t give you a hand today, but I’m free tomorrow. Just finish that soup before you go out.’

Emma managed a small smile of thanks, but when Doris left she pushed the bowl to one side. She then rose to her feet, put on her coat and picked up the last pile of leaflets.

Emma stood outside the station, a leaflet held out in appeal, whilst a high wind fought to snatch it from her hand.

‘Please,’ she begged, ‘have you seen this little girl?’

As had so many others, the man ignored her plea, brushing her aside as he hurried past.

Rain began to fall, small spatters at first, but as
heavy clouds gathered it became heavier, soon soaking both her hair and clothes. It didn’t stop Emma. Nothing would. Clasping the rest of the leaflets close to her chest, she tottered forward, thrusting one towards a woman emerging from the station wearing a straight red skirt and pointy-toed shoes.

‘Please, have you seen this little girl?’

The woman took it, her eyes showing sympathy as she said, ‘Sorry, no.’

‘Please, look again.’

The young lady lowered her eyes to the picture, but then, needing both hands to open her umbrella, she shook her head, the picture falling onto the wet pavement. She wrestled the wind to keep the umbrella over her head, her grip tight and knuckles white as she bustled away.

Emma watched her for a moment, but then her eyes came to rest on the leaflet lying wet and forlorn on the pavement. A gasp escaped her lips. The eyes of her child seemed to gaze back at her, rain spattering the picture as though tears on her cheeks. She shivered with fear, vowing silently,
Oh God, I have to find you–I have to
.