Josephine Cox 3-Book Collection 2: The Loner, Born Bad, Three Letters

‘Oh, no!’ Beth was shocked. ‘What about the boy and his grandfather? Couldn’t they persuade him to stay and give it one last try – for Davie’s sake if not for theirs?’

‘Is Davie all right?’ Judy’s anxious question turned Tom’s heart.

‘Hear me out, lass. I’m not done yet.’ He enveloped them both in the sweep of his gaze.

Instinctively clinging to her mother, Judy fell silent; and Tom continued.

Firstly he answered Beth’s question. ‘From what I could gather, Don didn’t want to leave without Davie, but the boy decided to stay behind, with his mammy.’ He paused and sighed, then quietly continued. ‘It seems the grandfather had come to the end of his tether, too. There was a row of sorts, and after Don left, the old man threw Rita out, bag and baggage.’

He quickly imparted how the boy had decided to go with his mother and look after her as best he could, though his grandad didn’t much care for that idea. In fact, old Joseph was so upset that he told them both to sling their hooks and good riddance, more or less.

And then he relayed the worst news of all.

‘I was driving past the woods during my round when I heard young Davie shouting for help. His mammy had suffered a fall and hurt herself badly. By the time I got to her, she were drifting in and out of consciousness.’ He recalled the sad sight of her, and cleared his throat. All day long, he had wanted to make his way back home to Three Mills Farm, and confide the news to his wife, for it was she he always turned to when in times of trouble. But events had taken over and, as it turned out, there was little opportunity.

He described how he had followed the boy and how, when he came to Rita, he could tell straightaway that she was in desperate need of hospital treatment.

‘We managed to get her as far as the cart and lay her down, when she drew her last breath. It were a matter of minutes, that’s all, and she was lost to us. And there was nothing either of us could do to save her.’ He blew his nose loudly.

‘What about Davie!’ Shocked at the news, Judy’s immediate thoughts were for her friend. ‘Where is he? Why didn’t you bring him home with you, Dad?’

Tom shook his head. This was going to be hard. ‘Seeing his mammy go like that, it was a terrible thing for the lad to witness, especially after seeing his father walk out and then his grandfather turn against his own flesh and blood. He held her close until she’d said her last words to him, then before I knew it, he’d leaped off the cart and was running into the forest, as if old Nick hisself was after him. Oh, I called for the lad time and again … told him to come along of us and that we’d take care of him, but I haven’t seen him since. I had to get his mammy away, don’t you see? There was the police to deal with and all sorts. Afterwards, I went back, and I scoured the woods, calling and shouting and begging him to come home with me. But there was neither sound nor sight of him.’

‘Poor little chap.’ Beth was appalled by the news. ‘What will become of him, d’you think? Where will he go? How will he survive – a lad of his tender years?’

Judy was distraught. ‘We’ve got to go back! We have to find him. Please, Dad, we can’t just leave him.’

‘He’s not there any more, child. I searched and called and there was nothing. He’ll be long gone by now.’

Tom recalled how brave Davie had been and how, through a bad sequence of events and none of them his doing, he had been made a man overnight. ‘He’ll get through this,’ he said decidedly. ‘Young though he is, the lad’s already come through one bad shock after another. I’m sure he’ll think long and hard about which way to go. Don’t worry, lass. Happen when he’s had time to consider everything, he’ll come back of his own accord.’ In reassuring his daughter, he failed to reassure himself, however, although he was certain of one thing. ‘Davie knows he’ll be safe enough with us.’

But Judy couldn’t let it drop. ‘When you’ve eaten and rested, will you come back and see if he’s there?’ she pleaded. ‘He might have been hiding when you called for him. He might not have wanted to talk – perhaps he wasn’t ready then, but he’ll listen to me, I know he will. Please, Daddy, please come back and try again.’

Knowing how determined she could be, Tom worried that she might take matters into her own hands. Deciding it was wiser to pacify her, and being anxious himself as to Davie’s whereabouts, he relented.

‘All right, lass. Once I’ve had a sit-down and a bite to eat, we’ll go and search for him. But first we’ll call at his grandfather’s house. The police will already have been to see him, to inform him about poor Rita’s death. I told them everything I knew and they said to leave it with them.’ At the back of his mind he wondered. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if we didn’t find young Davie there. After all, when you think about it, where else would he go, but home?’

‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ Beth warned. ‘It was his grandfather who threw them out, wasn’t it? So, for all we know, Davie might be blaming him for what happened to his mammy.’

‘Davie would never do that!’ Judy sprang immediately to his defence. ‘Davie thinks the world of him. It was his grandad who took them all in when they lost their home and everything.’

‘The lass is right,’ Tom agreed. ‘Young Davie is not the sort to lay the blame where it doesn’t belong. The truth is, Rita brought it all on herself, God help her.’

At that point, Beth served the meal and they sat at the table, each thinking of Davie and praying that he would be all right, out there, God knows where, grieving for his mammy and with no one to comfort him.

After a few mouthfuls of the pie, Tom pushed back his plate. ‘Sorry, love, I haven’t the stomach for it,’ he told his wife. ‘If we’re going to search for the lad, we’d best get off now. But first we’ll stop off at Derwent Street – check on Joe, and see if the boy has turned up there, before we go off on a wild-goose chase round the woods.’

Beth and Judy readily agreed. They put on their coats and stout shoes and waited at the door while Tom got the Morris Minor out of the barn. ‘I didn’t think it would start,’ he said as they climbed in. ‘I can’t recall the last time I had this motor-car on the road.’

‘Hmh!’ Beth gave him a wry glance. ‘I’m not surprised, because whenever you take me and Judy out, it’s always on the blessed cart! I’m surprised the motor-car hasn’t seized up altogether,’ she grumbled. ‘Then we’d have turned up at Joseph’s house in that smelly old cart. And what would folks think, eh?’

Going down the lane at a steady pace, with the engine spitting and complaining, they sat quiet for a while, each engrossed in their own thoughts, thinking of Rita and the way things had turned out. Mostly their thoughts were for young Davie, because in truth he was the one who had suffered most in this tragedy.

Judy was certain that Davie would not hold his grandfather responsible for his mammy’s death. For one agonising moment, she put herself in Davie’s shoes. He had loved his grandfather; and it must have come as a shock when Joseph turned against him. She also knew that, although he would forgive him, he would never be enticed back, even if his grandfather changed his mind. If Davie was anything at all, he was proud, and fiercely independent.

When they turned the corner into Derwent Street, they were not surprised to see the neighbours emerging from Joseph’s house. ‘The news has spread,’ Tom declared respectfully. ‘I expect he’s had folks in and out since the police came to see him.’

As they got out of the car, one or two of the neighbours nodded to them, and they nodded back. They didn’t speak. What was there to say?

‘He’ll need all the support he can get,’ Beth replied. ‘Rita’s reputation was known throughout Blackburn. She lost respect and many friends through her degrading antics. Time and again, she brought trouble to the door; first to poor Don, and then to her own father, even though he had been so good to her.’

‘You’re right, lass,’ Tom remarked under his breath. ‘She managed to heap shame on the only three people who truly loved her.’

‘Hmh! There’ll be them as say she deserved what she got.’ Beth gave a long, shivering sigh. ‘All the same, I can’t help but feel saddened by what’s happened to her, so young an’ all.’

‘I know what you’re saying, lass.’ Tom felt the same. ‘But now she’s gone, it’s the old man we have to concern ourselves with, and the boy especially. Folks round here will no doubt keep an eye on Joseph but the boy has no one. He’s out there somewhere, God knows where, without a friend to talk to, and no roof over his head.’ He glanced sideways, seeking reassurance from this wise woman of his. ‘It’s a bad thing, don’t you think, lass?’

‘It is,’ Beth concurred. ‘But you did the best you could, and a body can do no more.’ She touched him softly on the arm. ‘Don’t fret yourself, Tom. You can’t be responsible for what’s happened; none of us can. All we can do is hope the boy is safe … wherever he might be.’

‘We have to find him.’ Judy was determined. ‘If he’s not here, we have to search and search, and not give up until we can take him home with us.’ She had visions of Davie curled up somewhere, alone and shivering, and frightened. She longed to be with him, to give him consolation. Like her daddy had said just now, it was a ‘bad thing’.

They found the old man seated in the parlour, his head bent low to his knees and his hands clasped over his head, as though trying to fend off some vicious attacker. Rocking backwards and forwards, he didn’t even hear them come in. ‘Joseph?’ Tom laid his hand on the man’s shoulder. ‘It’s me, Tom, and my family. We’ve come to see how you are.’

It was a moment before Joseph looked up. They had been prepared for him to be deeply shocked by the news of what had happened to his daughter and grandson, but even so, they were taken aback by the stricken look in his eyes. His face was marked with angry red streaks where he’d scraped his fingernails down his cheeks, and the skin hung in curious folds over his features, as though the substance had been sucked away from underneath. ‘Oh, Tom.’ He began rocking again. ‘What in God’s name have I done? Rita, my own flesh and blood. I sent her away, thinking she might get herself in order and come back to live a decent life, and now she can’t ever come back.’

Plump teardrops pushed over his eyelids and ran down his face. ‘My daughter was a wilful woman, ran right off the rails at times, but she didn’t deserve to be struck down. Dear God, she had so much to live for, so much to make up!’ He rolled his eyes to heaven. ‘I turned her out on the streets … her and the boy with her. May God forgive me. I should lie in hell for what I did!’

When he began sobbing, Beth whispered to Judy to help her in the kitchen. ‘Stay with him,’ she told Tom, ‘while me and Judy see if we can’t make us all a cup of tea.’ That was typical of Beth. A cup of tea would put so many things right. But not this time, she thought. Not this time.

‘Will Joseph be all right?’ Never having witnessed such grief, the young girl was feeling scared.

Beth held her for a moment, taking comfort from the girl’s warm body against her own. ‘It’ll be terrible hard for him,’ she said emotionally, ‘but he’s got friends. And maybe when Davie’s come to terms with what’s happened, he might be of a mind to make it up with his grandad, and find his way home.’

‘No, Mam. Davie will never come back here, not now.’ Judy Makepeace was unsure about a lot of things in her young life, but of this she was 100 per cent certain. Wherever Davie went, it would be far away from the house in Derwent Street.

Chapter Five (#ulink_cd5c18c0-5037-593c-91fc-10f59d2cca68)

WHILE HIS WOMENFOLK busied themselves in the kitchen, Tom tried to get the grieving man to say something, but Joseph had fallen into such a deep silence, he seemed unaware that anyone else was there with him.

When, a few moments later, Beth and her daughter returned with a pot of piping hot tea, Tom revealed his concerns. ‘I don’t know what else to do,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I’ve tried everything to coax him into talking, but all he does is rock backwards and forwards, his eyes fixed in a stare to the floor. It’s like he doesn’t even know I’m here.’

As was her way, Beth took matters into her own hands. Setting the tray down on the table, she knelt in front of the old man. ‘Joseph?’ Her voice was silky soft. ‘Joseph, it’s Beth … look at me, dear.’

When he seemed not to have heard, but instead kept rocking back and forth, back and forth, faster and faster, she raised her hands to his face and made him be still. ‘JOSEPH! It’s me, Beth. I’ve made you a hot drink. I want you to take it, and then we’ll sit and talk, you, me and Tom. Will you do that for me?’

Now, as he turned away, she persevered. ‘You, me and Tom,’ she repeated. ‘The three of us like old friends, just drinking and talking, and helping each other. Do you think you can do that for me?’

Joseph looked into her eyes and saw the kindness there. But it seemed an age before he answered, and then it was just the slightest nod.