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Authors: Rita Bradshaw

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BOOK: Dancing in the Moonlight
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Enid groped at a chair, pulling it out from beneath the kitchen table and sitting down heavily. She watched as Tom hauled Donald to his feet, but when he hit him again, protested, ‘What
are you doing? Stop it.’

‘Stop it? He came at me with a damn knife.’

As he raised his fist once more, Enid stumbled over, hanging on Tom’s arm as she said, ‘You’ll kill him. Stop it, I say.’

She dragged Donald free, but he slithered unconscious to the floor next to Jacob, who was out cold. Enid looked from them to Tom, blinking as though coming out of a deep sleep. ‘You said,
in the doorway . . .’ She took a deep breath. ‘You said you knew Lucy’s bairn was yours.’

‘I suspected it, aye.’

‘So you did take her down?’

‘It wasn’t like they said, Mam.’ Tom was thinking fast. He’d heard enough to know that Donald and Jacob were out to get him, so he had to deal with them. Permanently. But
there was his mam to consider. ‘She made eyes at me, led me on.’

‘But she was a bairn, a wee lass.’

‘She was no bairn. I told you, she had the fishmonger on the go an’ all.’

‘Then why did you think the child was yours?’

He stared at her, unable to think of a reason that would hold water. ‘I just did, that’s all.’

‘She hadn’t been with a man when you took her, had she.’ It was a statement, not a question. ‘She was pure, a virgin. That’s how you knew. I always wondered why she
went without a word to me. Me, who’d been like a mam to her after Agnes passed away. But she couldn’t come to me, because you’re my son. So she lived on the streets till the
fishmonger took them in.’ She put a hand to her brow. ‘Did you kill him? Her husband?’

‘Don’t talk soft.’

‘You did, didn’t you? It’s true, isn’t it, what they said?’ She put out her hand and, like a blind person, lurched over to the table, leaning on it heavily.
‘And Jacob? Did you put him in hospital that time?’

He didn’t have time for this. He could deal with Donald with one hand tied behind his back, but Jacob was a different kettle of fish. He’d taken Jacob by surprise and got in the
first punch, but if he came round it might be different. He had to get them in the car and take them to Jed’s place, where he could deal with them and make sure they disappeared for good.
‘Get me something to tie ’em up with.’

‘What?’

‘Before they come round. You don’t want them to go for me again, do you?’

‘There – there’s a ball of string in that cupboard.’

She watched as he tied Jacob’s hands and then his feet together. There wasn’t enough string left to tie Donald’s ankles as well as his hands. There was blood everywhere, most
of it from Donald’s broken nose. Shakily she said, ‘What are you going to do?’ as he finished the knot on Donald’s wrists.

Tom straightened. His mother would understand. He had always known that he had her love in a way none of the others did. Heaven and hell might pass away, but his mam would be for him. Softly,
with the look he reserved purely for her, he murmured, ‘They’re out to ruin me, Mam. You heard what they said. It’s lies, it’s all lies, but mud sticks and my name’ll
be nowt in this town if they have their say.’

Enid couldn’t speak, her throat had closed up with the pain she was experiencing. Not a physical pain, that would have been bearable, however severe it was, but a pain born of the
inescapable knowledge that her buried fears were out in the open and her son was bad. How bad she hadn’t even guessed at in the past. How long had she refused to believe what her mind had
been trying to tell her? So long that she couldn’t name when it had begun. But no matter what she had sensed, or what Aaron and the others had said, she’d always given herself the
answer she wanted to hear.

Taking her silence for complicity, Tom continued, ‘Get me a couple of blankets to wrap them in, and then you keep watch till it’s clear for me to get them in my car, all right?
I’ll have a word with the taxi driver and pay him what he’s owed, so he clears off out of the hockey. He brought ’em both, did he?’

Numbly Enid forced out, ‘No, just Donald. Jacob was already here.’

Tom nodded. He’d get the taxi registration. It might be necessary for the driver to disappear too. Jed didn’t like loose ends. ‘Watch them a minute.’ Without waiting for
a reply, he walked out of the kitchen into the hall and then she heard the front door open.

She had to stop this. Jacob was her son, her baby. But Tom wouldn’t really do what she had imagined he was saying – he just intended to frighten them. To make sure they kept their
mouths shut.

A voice outside herself, a harsh voice that grated in her head, repudiated the thought. He was going to kill them both. In cold blood. And it wasn’t even a problem to him. Oh, God, God!
She looked upwards, wringing her hands. Help me.

She heard Tom’s footsteps coming back and stood up, facing him as he came through the kitchen door. ‘You can’t do this. We have to get the police. They attacked you, I can
vouch for that. You’re the’ – she had been about to say ‘innocent party’, but couldn’t bring herself to voice it, changing it to – ‘offended party,
lad. They’ll see that.’

‘I haven’t got time to argue, Mam. Go and get me those blankets.’

She stared at him. ‘Please, Tom, listen to me.’

‘I’ll get them myself.’

He turned and a moment or two later she heard him running up the stairs. Beside herself, she knelt down by Jacob, shaking his arm. ‘Wake up, lad. Wake up.’ Donald was stirring and
groaning again; leaving Jacob, she bent over Donald and now she shook him none too gently.

‘What are you doing?’ Tom was back, the blankets draped over his arm.

‘He – he was waking up.’

‘Leave him, he’s not going anywhere. I’m not bothered about him, but I need to get Jacob in the boot of the car before he comes to.’ He knelt, rolling Jacob’s
unresisting body in the blanket. ‘I’ll come back for Donald in a minute. I need you to come with me and stand outside, so that you can tell me when it’s clear. The boot’s
already open.’

‘Someone will see.’

‘No, they won’t, not if I’m quick. It’ll be all right. It’s the only way, Mam. When I’m gone, you can clear up and no one will be any the wiser.’

He was really going to do it. Enid stood up as Tom hoisted the cocoon he’d made of his brother over his shoulder, and from somewhere within her being flowed a wave of resolution. Reaching
behind her to the range, she grabbed the heavy iron poker that lay on the fender. ‘Put Jacob down, Tom.’

‘What?’ A look of almost comical amazement stretched his face as he saw his mother wielding the big poker.

‘Put him down, I mean it. I can’t stand by and let you do this.’

‘You’ll not use that on me.’

‘I will, if I have to.’

Jacob chose that moment to move and groan from within the blanket and several things happened in quick succession. Donald had been more alert than he had let on and, seeing Tom momentarily
distracted, he used every ounce of his remaining strength to twist his body and bring his legs in a cutting motion to the back of Tom’s knees. With Jacob’s weight over one shoulder, it
was enough to knock Tom off balance. At the same time Enid swung the poker with all her might, intending to hit Tom’s other arm and make him drop Jacob. Instead the full weight of the poker
smashed into his outstretched throat as he stumbled forward, his head up as he attempted to regain his balance. The impact was deadly, crushing Tom’s windpipe as though it were made of
eggshell and fracturing bone and rupturing muscle.

Tom crumpled, clutching his throat, as Jacob thudded to one side and a horrible gurgling sound filled the kitchen. Enid, careless of Donald struggling to sit up and of Jacob clawing his way out
of the folds of the blanket, knelt down, taking Tom’s head in her lap. For long seconds, his eyes bulging in terror, he fought for breath against the choking blood and bone, his legs
scrabbling in his death throes against the stone slabs.

And then a silence descended. Donald sat against a table leg, looking as though he was already dead, and Enid had collapsed over Tom’s still body. Jacob, having finally got his head free
of the blanket, was unconscious once more. Then Enid began to scream.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Later that day the police car that had arrived at Lucy’s house an hour earlier brought her, with Ruby at her side, to the hospital where Donald and Jacob were patients
and where Tom lay in the morgue. At first she hadn’t been able to take in what the two policemen were telling her. But when she had, instead of breaking down as Ruby had feared, she had
quietly insisted that she be taken to see her brother and Jacob.

The Detective Inspector and Detective Sergeant saw the two women to the entrance of the ward, but didn’t go in. They had already questioned the injured men and were satisfied with their
answers, which tied in with what the mother, Mrs Crawford, had told them. That it had opened a whole can of worms, which they were now going to have to sort out, wasn’t lost on either of
them.

‘Rum do, this,’ said the DI to his Sergeant as the doors of the ward closed behind Lucy and Ruby. ‘There’s been the odd whisper about Tom Crawford in the past, but then
any bloke who gets on is a target for rumours. It’ll upset some of the bigwigs on the town council when the muck gets aired in public, but with his own mother saying he was a wrong ’un,
they won’t be able to keep it quiet.’

‘I wonder what made the lass’s brother and Crawford’s brother prepared to shop him suddenly? They must have known about it for years, and the lass’s brother even worked
for him for a time. I know the mother said it was because Crawford had pulled a fast one to get out of fighting for King and country, and it had been the straw that broke the camel’s back
– or backs, in this case – but I don’t know if I buy that. Do you?’

The DI shrugged. ‘Good a reason as any. It was enough to put the wind up Crawford anyway. He did the pair of them some damage, and I reckon he still might have done for the lass’s
brother, by the look of him. It was only the mother stepping in with the poker that stopped him. Takes some guts that, but then, as she said, she thought murder was going to be done.’

‘Murder
was
done,’ said the DS, grinning.

‘Don’t be facetious.’ The DI didn’t appreciate his subordinate’s questionable sense of humour. ‘It was self-defence. Crawford had gone stark staring barmy and
likely she thought she was next.’

‘It’ll be interesting delving into Crawford’s so-called business transactions in some detail.’

‘Aye.’ The DI brightened. The lass’s brother had mentioned the Kanes and he’d been waiting for a long time to pin something on them. ‘Aye, it will.’

In the ward, Lucy and Ruby were sitting with the Sister at the nurses’ station. She had sat them down immediately, saying she needed to talk to them before they saw the
patients. ‘Mr Crawford has concussion,’ she said gently, ‘and we thought at first his jaw was broken, but it appears it is not.’ She paused. ‘I’m afraid your
brother is much worse. I understand he was already ill before the assault?’

Lucy nodded. ‘Donald has stomach cancer.’

‘Quite so. Dr Ingram has examined him and he feels you ought to prepare yourselves. I’m very sorry.’

Lucy and Ruby held hands tightly. ‘How long before . . . ’

‘It’s hard to tell, but he’s very poorly. Very poorly indeed.’

‘Can we see him?’

‘Dr Ingram has given him something for the pain and he will sleep for some hours now.’

Lucy gripped Ruby’s hand tighter. ‘We’d still like to see him, if that’s possible.’

‘Of course. Come this way.’ The Sister rustled to her feet and led the way to one of the two beds in the ward surrounded by curtains, which were next to each other. She stopped at
the first one and drew back the curtain so that Lucy and Ruby could step inside. A nurse was sitting on a chair by the head of the bed and she stood up, looking at the Sister. Lucy stared down at
the colourless face on the pillow, grief overwhelming her. It was Ruby who whispered to the Sister, ‘Could I stay with him? While my sister sees Jacob – Mr Crawford? I’d like to
sit with him, if I may?’

The Sister’s somewhat austere face softened. ‘I don’t see why not, my dear.’ She beckoned to the nurse, who left them. Lucy touched the paper-thin hand lying so still on
the starched white counterpane. It was cool and dry. Blinking back hot tears, she murmured to Ruby, ‘I won’t be long.’

Outside the curtains again, the Sister said, ‘Mr Crawford’s had something to help him sleep, too. He was very disorientated earlier, but don’t be alarmed. It will
pass.’

‘Thank you.’

This time there was no nurse sitting by the bed. When the Sister had closed the curtains again, leaving them alone, Lucy tiptoed to Jacob’s side. The lower part of his face was all bruises
and badly swollen, and in contrast the rest was almost as white as the sheets, but then he opened his eyes and he became her Jacob. ‘Lucy.’ He blinked, as though worried she was an
illusion. ‘Lucy.’

‘I’m here.’ She took his hand. ‘Don’t try to talk. Just rest now.’

‘Donald?’

‘He’s sleeping.’

‘He told me, Lucy. Told – told me every-everything.’

‘I know, I know. Shush now, go to sleep.’

‘So – so sorry, Lucy. My own brother. Bad. Rotten.’

She brought his hand to her lips, kissing it and resting it by the side of her face. ‘Don’t worry, he can’t hurt us any more. It’s over, Jacob.’

‘My mam . . . ’

‘I’ll go and see her, if you want me to.’

He nodded, wincing as the movement hurt his head. ‘Headache.’

‘Shut your eyes. It will make you feel better.’

He did for a moment, opening them to say, ‘I love you. I always will.’

‘And I love you. I always have.’

His eyes shut again and immediately he slept, but the smile stayed in place.

Donald died just before midnight. Flora and Bess had come to join Lucy and Ruby at his bedside, Matthew and Charley remaining at home in charge of Daisy, so his four sisters
were with him at the last. He had been awake a little while before, and each of them had been able to tell him how much they loved him and how precious he was.

BOOK: Dancing in the Moonlight
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