No Wings to Fly (54 page)

‘What d’you mean? Surely you could have put it back.’

‘I had it in my pocket. And just at that moment the old man comes back round the corner by the corn exchange. And he’s got a peeler with him. They come straight towards
the bench, I tell you. For a second I just stood there like some rabbit fixed by a stoat, and then I took off. I couldn’t do anything else. I ’ad to get away.’

‘Go on,’ Lily said.

‘Well . . .’ He turned his head back to face her again. ‘I got away. Like I said, I’m fast on me feet, but the peeler, he was fast too, and he almost caught me – but I was faster still and I managed to give him the slip. He came close though – close to catching me – and he saw me all right. Close up, I mean. Oh, yeh, he saw me close up, right enough – and I knew he wouldn’t forget me.’

‘What did you do – with the man’s purse?’

‘I threw it away. As I was running. I didn’t take anything from it. I didn’t even look inside. I didn’t ’ave a chance. As I was running I slung it over a wall into somebody’s garden. It’s still there as far as I know. Though doubtless the police think I still got it.’ He shifted on the seat, his fingers clenching and unclenching. Then he got up again and moved to the window. Looking down through the glass he said, just loud enough for Lily to hear: ‘He saw me today. That constable. He saw me coming ’ere a while ago. The same one.’

‘He saw you? Are you sure?’

‘Oh, ah, I’m sure, right enough. I darn near ran into him. I was only a yard away. I got out of his way as sharp as I could, but ’e saw me all right. He made that clear enough.’ He turned to face her. ‘He’s after me, Lil.’

‘You think he’s followed you?’

‘Yeh, I reckon so. Though maybe not on his own.’ He moved close to her again. ‘I got to go, Lil. It’s not safe for me to stay ’ere.’ As he spoke he was stepping back, as if ready to run. She got to her feet, reaching out to him.

‘Oh, but Tom – you can’t go like this. How will I get in touch with you? You’re going to be leaving the country. I might never see you again.’

‘Oh, you’ll see me again,’ he said, ‘don’t you worry about that. I’ll be turning up, like the old bad penny.’ He moved from one foot to another. ‘Lil, I got to go. It’s not safe for me ’ere.’ He put his right arm around her, drawing her close. ‘I’ll write to you, depend on it. As soon as I get there, to Philadelphia, I’ll write and let you know where I am.’ His arm tightened even more. There was desperation in his touch. ‘Don’t think too badly of me, Lil, please.’

‘I could never do that, Tom.’

He leant back a little and looked into her face. ‘You wait – you’ll hear good things of me, once I’m settled.’ He smiled. ‘And we’ll have that little ’ouse together, you just see if we don’t.’

Then, with a wrench he was breaking away from her, adjusting his cap securely on his head and stepping back to glance down from the window once more. And Lily, watching his every move, saw him start, saw his body jerk upright, and heard the gasp of his breath.

‘Oh, by Christ, they’re ’ere!’ he cried. ‘They’re ’ere, the peelers!’

He spun, giving out a little yelp, turning on the spot as if not knowing which way to go. Then he flung himself forward and dashed across the room to the doorway. In seconds he was through it and running out onto the landing. Lily heard his boots thudding on the wooden floor, the sound echoing in the silence of the place. As he disappeared from her view she turned back to the window and looked down, and saw two constables nearing the building. In seconds they had vanished from her sight as they entered through the doors below.

Her own heart was beating wildly as she moved across the room past the unseeing eyes of the stone statues. Reaching the door she looked out. There was no sign of Tom, though she could hear the sound of his hurrying feet coming from one of the galleries on the far side of the
landing. Then all at once he burst into view again, dashing towards her. In the same moment two young women appeared from behind him in the doorway and stopped, standing in surprise, watching his progress. He was oblivious to them as he frantically ran forward, his mouth gaping, his eyes starting in terror. As he came to Lily where she stood in the doorway to the gallery he gasped out, ‘There’s no other way down! Oh, Christ ’elp me!’

She could see that his eyes were glistening with tears of panic. He ran past her into the room, spun, then returned at a run, and came dashing past her again, this time heading for the stairs. She could only stand there, hands up to her mouth, watching as he started down, his boots thundering on the treads. The two young women had come forward a little now, moving nervously from the opposite gallery and, curious and drawn by the drama, stood watching his descent. Lily, like the young women, watched him dash down, and then hurried to the head of the staircase to peer after him. She watched as he reached the next landing, turned, and disappeared from her view. And for a few seconds there was only the sound of his footsteps. Then, all at once he was in her sight, coming back along the landing and up the stairs again. Standing at the top, she watched as he came hurtling towards her.

‘They’re ’ere! They’re ’ere inside!’

He gasped out the words as he came up. Briefly he came to a floundering halt, his good arm and his mutilated arm reaching out. ‘Lil! Oh, Lil!’ He was gasping for breath, little flecks of spittle spraying from his lips. ‘Lil, for God’s sake ’elp me! They’ll send me back! Lil, don’t let ’em. Oh, please, don’t let ’em.’

Following his words there came the sound of other footfalls heavy on the stairs below, rapidly climbing. Tom turned and looked down, and then whirled, his eyes wide in terror and desperation. For a couple of seconds he
hovered there, as if at his wits’ end, and then flung himself forward again. Dashing past Lily, he bolted back into the gallery. Turning in his wake, she started after him.

She watched him, her horrified eyes taking in every desperate move of his body as he skidded past the display cases, the battered statues and the fragments of ancient pottery. She watched him as he ran, without any hesitation in his step, towards the window above the bench. She watched him as he leapt up onto the seat and, in a continuation of the one single move, threw himself headfirst at the pane.

No sound at all came from Tom. There was only the shattering of the glass. One moment he was there, silent, leaping, and a split second later he was gone.

For a few seconds after Tom had vanished Lily stood dumb-stricken and rooted to the floor, looking at the window, the sound of the breaking glass still ringing in her ears. Then, turning, she saw the two young women standing with open mouths, unable to believe what had taken place before their eyes. Vaguely she registered this, and then, forcing herself out of her momentary daze, spun and headed for the stairs.

She met the two constables coming up, and they stood to one side to make way for her, somewhat startled by the sight of her as, clutching at her skirts and with all decorum gone, she rushed down.

Outside she ran the few yards to where Tom lay on the cobbles. His body lay strangely doubled up, like some discarded, disjointed doll, and she knelt and bent over his lifeless form. His cap had come off and lay a foot away from his shoulder. From his smashed head his blood ran in thin rivulets between the stones. His eyes, half open, and which had seen so little joy, looked dully up at the sky.

What happened next passed by in a fog, a kaleidoscope of people coming and going, sounds, men’s voices asking questions, kindly, sensitively, the feeling of hands touching solicitously at her shoulder. The two police constables who had come so soon to her side learnt from her that the young man was her brother. The ambulance was being sent for, they told her, and he would be taken to Corster General
Hospital, though it was clear to all that he was beyond help. She would wait, she said; she would not leave him here alone. As she stood beside the body her knees buckled and she sank down, only prevented from falling by one of the constables who stepped forward and caught her. From within the museum someone fetched a chair, and she was urged to sit. Someone else had covered Tom’s body with an old piece of blanket, and she sat before it, her eyes dull, her lips compressed. When the ambulance wagon came at last, she turned her head away as he was lifted up and placed on board, then, turning back, she watched as the vehicle trundled away over the cobbles. When it had gone from sight one of the senior policeman asked her to accompany them to the constabulary office, where an official report must be made and a statement taken. There, in a bleak room, she sat facing an officer across a weathered desk. While she drank a mug of hot, sweet tea, a succession of questions were asked and her answers duly noted. Later, when she enquired as to what now was to happen to her brother, she was told that there would be a post-mortem examination, followed by an inquest, which she would be required to attend. She would receive notification, they said. She was also informed that all Tom’s possessions found on him would be given to her. Two hours later, when she was free to go, she stumbled out into the cool October night and started on her way back to Happerfell.

Arriving at The Gables, she met Mrs Soameson in the hall, and at once it was apparent to the older woman that something was very wrong. After one or two questions, she took Lily into the drawing room and there, weeping, Lily told her what had happened. Mrs Soameson listened for the most part in silence, only interjecting the occasional expression of sympathy. ‘Perhaps,’ she said, when Lily had come to the end of her story, ‘you’d like to go back to
Sherrell tomorrow – to see your friend, Miss Balfour. Stay there, and come back on Sunday.’

So, the next morning Lily made the journey to Rowan-leigh, arriving just before noon. She was met by a surprised Miss Elsie, who was not expecting her for another week. Soon, in Miss Elsie’s study, Lily was pouring out her heart.

She stayed amid the familiar comforts of Rowanleigh the rest of that day, and until the hour the day following when she started back for Happerfell. She carried in her purse a sum of money that Miss Elsie had pressed upon her for the expenses of the funeral. The thirty pounds that she had given to Tom, Lily had told her, was still being held by the authorities, but she should have it returned to her soon. Mr Shad drove her to the station. Arriving back at The Gables, she eschewed the supper that Mrs Lemmon offered and went up to her room. Next morning, after another almost sleepless night, she was back in the schoolroom again with Lavinia, taking up her teaching duties once more.

That afternoon there came for her a letter from a clerk of the local court in Corster informing her that an inquest into Tom’s death was set for Wednesday, the eleventh of October, at eleven-thirty, and that she would be required to attend.

Two days later, therefore, she went into the town, and there made her way to the old civic hall in one of the outer boroughs where the inquest was to be held. At the appointed hour she sat in a large, draughty room and listened as the clerk gave information to the coroner. There were few other people present and it was all over in a very short time. Within half-an-hour the coroner had declared the inquest adjourned, in order to allow the investigating police officers time to gather necessary evidence. Lily was free to go.

With a death certificate issued following the postmortem, and Tom’s body released for burial, she made her
way to the Corster Town Hall. There, to a sharp-faced clerk, whose demeanour exhibited not an ounce of sympathy, she registered the fact of her brother’s death.

Outside, on the busy street again, she felt a little wave of relief wash over her. Something more had been achieved; now she could see to his burial.

There was an undertaker’s not far away – she had noted it on her outward journey – and she went there now. Invited into the director’s office, she sat at a desk opposite the solemn-faced, black-suited man and, after receiving his condolences, set about making arrangements for Tom’s funeral. When she said that Tom’s body was at present lying in the coroner’s mortuary, the man was prompted to ask how he had died. Forcing the words out through her tight lips, she said that her brother, in a moment of great despair, had taken his life.

The man looked even more grave at this. He said he was very sorry to hear it, and then added, hesitantly, frowning in sympathy, ‘Are you aware that your brother might not be allowed burial in consecrated ground?’

For a moment she was at a loss for words, then she said, ‘No – I didn’t know.’

‘I’m afraid so. It’s not a hard and fast rule, however, and sometimes the church incumbent is not so strict – depending on the circumstances. But I should think the burial will have to be in the Shelbourne cemetery.’

‘Not in the churchyard?’

‘I doubt it – but you would need to ask the vicar. Go and see the Reverend Mr Sillipson at St Michael’s.’ He gestured with a wave of his hand. ‘Just at the bottom of the hill.’ He paused. ‘He’s quite new to the parish, but I’ve no doubt you’ll find him an understanding man.’

She nodded. ‘Yes – I’ll go and see him. I’ll go there now.’ She paused. ‘I’d like it if my brother could have a little service.’

‘Well,’ the man said, ‘that’s something you’ll have to talk to the reverend about. In any case, I shall write to him today to find out the arrangements. I’ll confirm to you, in a day or two, when the burial will be – the day and the time, and exactly where.’ He went on then to say that the schedules were more full than usual, owing to the increased number of deaths resulting from the smallpox, numerous cases of which were causing much alarm in Corster and the surrounding areas.

With the arrangements completed as far as was possible, Lily was then asked to choose a coffin for her brother’s body. Drawing on the little money that Miss Elsie had provided, she chose the cheapest available and paid the money into the man’s hand. Then, her business done, she thanked him and left the building.

Reaching the church, she could see no one about as she entered by the gate and walked up the path between the graves to the porch. Inside, she pushed open the heavy door, stepped into the hushed interior and looked about her. At first she thought the place was empty, but then she noticed movement up near the altar, and saw there a woman in an apron and cap dusting the altar table. She went towards her.