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Authors: Jess Foley

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No Wings to Fly (53 page)

BOOK: No Wings to Fly
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Six o’clock came and went and she scanned the vista about her, not knowing from which direction he would appear. There were not many others in the little paved garden. An elderly man sat on one the benches, his old dog, tethered by a lead, resting at his feet. On another bench sat a middle-aged man in rags, with his belongings packed into a straw basket and two hessian sacks.

The minutes passed, and there was still no sign of Tom. She thought of that other time when she had waited for him
in vain, sitting on this very bench, not knowing that he was lying unconscious in Grassinghill Infirmary.

Six-thirty. From the nearby bench the old man got to his feet, and the dog rose with him. As the man passed Lily by he raised his hand and touched it to the brim of his hat and gave her a smile. She smiled back, and he walked slowly away and out of her sight.

Then, suddenly, Tom was there, coming around the corner of the museum at a fast pace, almost running. He saw her at once, and headed straight for her, and in moments was coming to a halt, reaching out to her. As she got up and stepped forward, his arms came up and wrapped her round.

‘Ah, Lil – Lil, you’re here, you’re here.’ He sounded a little out of breath.

‘Of course I’m here.’ She drew back a little from him and gave the whisper of a gentle laugh, part relief, part joy, part grief. His one good hand stayed on her upper arm, while his mutilated arm fell back to his side. The stump of it was hidden, the sleeve of his jacket pinned back, shielding it from view.

‘Oh, Lil,’ he said, ‘I’m
so
glad to see you. I’m so glad you could get away.’

‘I’m glad to see
you
,’ she said. ‘Come, sit down on the bench with me.’

‘No.’ The word came out sharply, and he took a step back and half turned, looking about him.

‘What’s the matter?’ she said. He looked so ill at ease, so tense. ‘Is something wrong?’

He turned again, still looking anxiously. ‘Have we got to stay out ’ere? Let’s go inside somewhere.’ He gestured across the street. ‘Let’s go into the museum.’ Even as he spoke he was starting away.

She joined him, and together they went across the cobbles, he moving at a sharp pace so that she had to hurry
to keep up with him. She could not understand why he seemed to be in such a hurry. In moments they came to the museum’s entrance. All was quiet as they went in, and as they crossed the foyer the bespectacled curator at the desk merely glanced up and registered their presence. Together they climbed the stairs, the worn, polished treads under their feet giving out the occasional creak. They passed two other visitors coming in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Soon they arrived on the top floor and moved along the landing past the battered Greek and Roman statues, and the display cases with their old pottery and other ancient artefacts, to the room where they had sat before.

Inside, they moved to the old polished-wood bench that stood beneath the tall window that overlooked the cobbled square below. While Lily sat on the bench, Tom moved closer to the window and looked down. Glancing up at him, Lily thought again how tense he appeared. He was like a rabbit, alert and ready to run, or like a coiled watch-spring, ready to snap.

‘Tom, you’re making me nervous,’ she said into the quiet. ‘Please – come and sit down. Come away from the window.’

‘This window,’ he said, still gazing down, ‘reminds me of Wentworth, except there’s no bars.’

‘I know. You told me.’

‘I’ll never go back there. Never.’

‘Well, of course you won’t. You’ll never have any reason to.’ She paused. ‘Come and sit down.’

After a moment he turned from the window and sat beside her.

‘How is it now?’ she said, lifting a hand towards his damaged arm. ‘Does it hurt you at all?’

He touched his left arm with his right. ‘No, it don’t ’urt. Though it feels a bit – nervy at times – like the nerves are on
edge. It’s queer. And often it feels like it’s still there, my ’and. Like I feel I could move it, move the fingers. It’s weird.’ He gave a little nod of resignation, then said, changing the subject, ‘So where are you staying now, Lil? I ’ad to write to you at Miss Balfour’s. Are you back there now?’

She felt that he was speaking not out of genuine interest but merely for the sake of talking, and even though he had moved to sit beside her, she could feel in him that strange tension and agitation.

‘No,’ she said, ‘I have that position in Happerfell – the one I told you about. I started just over a fortnight ago. A well-to-do Scotsman and his family. I’m governess to a little girl there. It was supposed to be for three months before they all go off to Scotland, but now I don’t know. It could be a lot sooner.’

‘So your work with them’ll come to an end.’

‘I’m afraid so.’ She shrugged. ‘But something will turn up.’

‘Yeh, it will.’ The sound of distraction in his voice was hardly hidden. He forced a smile. ‘Good for you, our Lil.’

She smiled. ‘Oh, Tommo, I’m so glad to see you again. I’ve been thinking about you, and worrying about you.’

He nodded. ‘Ah, I reckoned you would be. I’m sorry I put you through all that: going off from the infirmary before you got back to see me. I told you, though – I couldn’t do nothin’ else.’ He sighed. ‘I been a drain on you long enough.’

‘Please – don’t talk like that.’

‘It’s true. I always seem to be askin’ for something. And this time’s no different, is it?’ As he spoke there came a noise from the direction of the stairs and he turned his head sharply and looked towards the door. When no further sound came, he relaxed slightly once more. Turning back to Lily, he said solemnly, ‘Yeh, I always seem to be askin’ for something, but it won’t continue, Lil, I promise.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘I love you. Anything I’ve got you can have.’

‘Oh, Lily, what a sister you are. You’re champion, you are.’ He gave a little wondering shake of his head. ‘You been so good to me. Ever since I can remember.’

She put a hand up to his face, gently, briefly touching his cheek. ‘Nonsense. I haven’t done anything special – only what any sister would do.’ She took him in as he sat beside her. She did not know what she had expected to find, but she was distressed to see him look so unkempt, so dishevelled. His angelic face was as beautiful as ever, but he was in need of a shave, and his ragged, uncombed hair looked dirty. When he lifted his hand to scratch at his scalp she saw that his fingernails were rimmed black. He wore the same clothes that she had last seen him in, though now there was no collar to his shirt, and one of the knees of his corduroy trousers had been torn. His boots were dusty, with crusted mud around the soles. ‘Tom,’ she said, ‘I think you’ve lost weight. Are you getting enough to eat?’

‘I’m all right. I’m getting along.’

‘I brought you some chocolate,’ she said, ‘and a couple of pears.’

A slow smile touched his solemn mouth. ‘Well, I wouldn’t say no to a nice pear and a bit o’ chocolate.’

She brought out the bar of chocolate, and the paper bag with the pears. He took them from her and placed them on the bench. Then he took a pear from the bag and bit into it. As he did so the juice ran down his chin and he wiped at it with the sleeve of his stunted arm. ‘Boy, that’s good,’ he said. ‘That’s very good.’

He finished the pear, core and all. ‘I’ll keep the other for later,’ he said, and worked the wrapping off the chocolate bar. The chocolate was gone in a couple of minutes, and Lily took its paper and put it into her bag. As she did so he got up from the seat and looked from the window.

‘What are you looking for?’ she said.

‘Nothing. Nothing. It’s all right.’ A few more moments glancing out at the scene down below and he stepped back to the bench and sat down again.

‘How have you been living?’ she said to him.

‘Oh, I’ve managed all right, I s’pose. Nothin’ spectac’lar, but all right, considerin’.’

‘Have you had any work?’

‘Nah. Nothin’ to speak of.’ He held up his left arm, and added with a bitter little laugh, ‘You need two ’ands even to ’old a broom.’

His simple words were like the greatest pain in her heart. She would have done anything to make his anguish go away, but there was nothing she could do. She could not even offer him hope.

‘I’ve managed to earn a bit runnin’ some messages,’ he said. ‘Here in Corster for a firm of solicitors and for some people at the
Gazette
. At least my legs are fit, and I’m a quick runner.’

‘And where have you been sleeping?’ she said. It was obvious from his appearance that he had not spent the most comfortable days and nights. ‘Have you managed to stay in the dry?’

‘Yeh, I’ve been all right. Don’t worry about me. I found a little place out on the edge of the town. Just a little shack, a little lean-to, but it keeps the rain off.’

As he finished speaking there came the sound of footsteps on the stairs, climbing, and the murmur of voices, and he quickly got to his feet and peered off through the door onto the landing.

‘What’s up?’ Lily said. ‘You’re so jumpy. What’s the matter?’

He remained standing there for some seconds, gazing off, shoulders hunched. Then a middle-aged couple, a man and a woman, came into view. They wandered at a
leisurely pace into the room, looking about them at the exhibits as they came. Tom moved back to the bench and sat down again.

‘I can’t stay round here,’ he said in a whisper. ‘I’m gunna ’ave to go.’

Lily frowned. ‘Why?’

He did not answer, and kept silent as the couple wandered about the room. They did not stay long. There seemed to be little to interest them for more than a few passing moments, and after a while they drifted back towards the open door.

Tom watched their departure and listened while the sound of their footfalls faded along the landing, then he got up and looked from the window again. Lily said, ‘What are you looking for, Tom?’

He turned to her. ‘I shouldn’t have come ’ere today.’

‘Not come here? Why?’ She was mystified.

He shook his head. ‘No, I shouldn’t, but I ’ad to.’ He paused. ‘Did you bring it, Lil?’

‘The money? You mean the money?’

‘Yeh. Did you manage to get me any?’

‘Yes, I got you some.’

A smile of relief briefly touched his face. ‘Ah, you’re a good girl, you are. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.’

She had her hand in her bag, seeking her purse. ‘Miss Elsie let me have it,’ she said. ‘I didn’t have enough of my own.’ She took out her purse, opened it and extracted a little wad of notes. ‘She let me have thirty pounds for you.’

‘Thirty pounds.’ He came to stand closer to her, and shook his head in a little gesture of wonder. ‘Oh, Lily, she’s a good woman, ain’t she?’

‘She is indeed. Of course I shall have to pay her back.’

‘Yeh, of course you will. And I’ll pay
you
back too. Just as soon as I’ve earned a bit.’

‘Well – when you can.’ She held the money out to him and he took it and looked at it.

‘I never seen that much money in me life before,’ he said. He stuffed it into the pocket of his trousers.

‘I hope it’ll be enough,’ she said.

‘Oh, yeh.’ He patted the pocket. ‘That’ll be grand, and it’ll see me through, don’t worry.’ He stepped back and looked down through the window again. ‘Did you see anyone as we came in?’ he said, turning to flick a glance at her.

‘See anyone? Who? Who are you talking about?’

‘Coppers. Did you see any coppers about?’

‘What – what are you concerned about the police for?’

‘I’m not going back in there,’ he said.

‘To prison?’ She frowned. ‘Well, of course you’re not. Tom – what is this all about? Tell me.
What
have you done?’

He gave a little groan and said, ‘Oh, Lil, don’t get on at me. I know I do stupid things at times, but . . .’

As his voice trailed off she said sharply: ‘What have you done? Tell me.’

He came back closer to the bench and, his voice low, said, ‘I didn’t steal it. Honest, I didn’t. I didn’t steal it.’

‘Steal what? What are you talking about?’

‘The purse. The gentleman’s purse. It was just there, on the seat.’

Her eyes widened. ‘What are you telling me, Tom? Have you done something?’

‘I told you – I didn’t steal it. It was just there, after he’d gone.’

‘You took it? You took somebody’s purse?’

When he did not answer, she slapped the seat of the bench beside her. ‘I think you’d better sit down and tell me what’s happened.’

With an air of reluctance he sat down at her side.

‘Tell me,’ she said, feeling her heart beat at the thought of what he might be about to say.

‘It was two days back, ’ere in Corster,’ he said after a moment. He lifted his hand and jabbed with his thumb towards the window. ‘Down there in the square. I come in durin’ the afternoon, looking for work. Doing some runnin’ maybe – or anything – but there wasn’t anything being offered. Anyway, I’d been ’ere a while, walking round, and I came by and got meself a drink of water at the fountain and sat down. I was on one of the benches near where we met just now. It wasn’t that warm a day, and there weren’t many other people sittin’ around, but there was this old man there, a well turned-out old gentleman, he was. He had a couple of bags with him, and a leather case. At one point he sat there going through his purse, and when he got up to go ’e left his purse behind on the seat.’

At this Lily gave a groan. ‘And you took it. Oh, Tom, don’t tell me you took it.’

‘Well – well, it was just there, on the seat. I didn’t see it right away, and when I did he’d gone off out of sight. I didn’t
think
, Lil. I just wasn’t thinkin’ straight, I s’pose.’ He gave a deep sigh. ‘I just wasn’t.’

‘So you took it, the gentleman’s purse.’

He closed his eyes and gave an almost imperceptible nod. ‘Ah, I did.’

‘Oh, Tom . . .’

He nodded again. ‘I did it without thinking twice. It was there, and I just looked round and then stepped across the gap and picked it up. It was just so easy. One second it was lyin’ there on the bench and the next it was in my ’and.’ He gave a groaning sigh. ‘Oh, Lil, I know, I know – I must’ve been barmy, and if I could’ve undone it I would, believe me. But it was too late; it was done.’

BOOK: No Wings to Fly
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