The Nightingale Girls

CHAPTER Fifty-Three



DORA MADE SURE she called round to Griffin Street in the middle of the day, when she knew her mother would be out delivering mending back to the laundry, and Nanna Winnie had taken the kids to the market. She also knew Alf was working the late shift, so he was bound to be home.

He came stomping down the stairs as she let herself in, dressed in his vest and doing up the buckle on his belt.

‘Oh, it’s you.’ He shouldered past her to sit himself down in his favourite armchair. ‘You might as well stick the kettle on, seeing as you’re here,’ he said, picking up the newspaper to peruse the racing results.

Dora bit back the retort that sprang to her lips and went into the scullery without a word. She had to bide her time.

She stood in the scullery, trying to calm herself down. Through the net curtains, she could see Danny Riley perched on top of the coal cellar as usual. She waved distractedly to him as she warmed the pot and made the tea.

‘To what do we owe this pleasure, anyway?’ Alf asked sarcastically as she plonked his mug of tea down in front of him.

‘You know very well.’ She stood over him. ‘I warned you, didn’t I? I told you to leave Josie alone.’

He shot her a quick, guarded look. Then slowly, a sneer spread across his face. ‘And what are you going to do about it?’ he mocked. ‘Cut my throat with a razor blade again?’ He shook his head pityingly. ‘Sorry, love, you should have done it while you had the chance. ’Cos your little tricks won’t work in this house. You might have had the upper hand in that hospital of yours, but out here what I say goes.’

Dora watched him as he picked up his mug. ‘And what if I tell Mum?’

‘You won’t.’ He slurped his tea. ‘And I’ll tell you why, shall I? Because it will ruin her life. And you wouldn’t want to do that to your poor mum, would you? Not after everything she’s been through.’

‘It couldn’t be worse than living with a monster like you.’

‘Is that right? Maybe you can tell her that when she’s living in the workhouse with the rest of the family.’

She watched him, supremely confident as ever. A tingle of hatred spread upwards from her toes.

He looked up and caught her staring. ‘What you looking at?’

‘You.’

‘Well, don’t.’ He frowned irritably. ‘You get on my nerves. I’ve a good mind to tell Rose I don’t want you round here any more.’

‘She’d never do that.’

‘I reckon I could make her do anything I wanted,’ he smirked. ‘Just like I can make you and your sister do anything, too.’

Helplessness washed over her. Alf was right. She was powerless to hurt him any more. Not without hurting the rest of her family too.

All she could do was try to appeal to his better nature. If he’d ever had one.

‘Leave Josie alone,’ she begged. ‘She’s just a kid, she doesn’t deserve to be treated like this.’

Alf tipped the last of his tea into his gaping mouth. ‘You know what I think?’ he said. ‘I reckon you’re jealous of that little sister of yours.’

Dora gripped her hands together to stop herself lunging at him.

‘That’s it, isn’t it? You’re jealous because she’s got me now and you haven’t.’

Dora stared at him. He really believed it, she thought. He was deluded enough to actually think that she and Josie wanted him.

In that moment a plan came into her mind. ‘You’re right,’ she said flatly. ‘I am jealous.’ She forced herself to move towards him, her legs as stiff as a puppet’s, her smile fixed. ‘Get rid of her, Alf. Then it can be just you and me again. Just like old times.’

His eyes narrowed for a moment, as if he couldn’t quite trust what he was hearing. Then he leered, showing dirty yellow teeth.

‘I knew it,’ he said. ‘I knew you wanted me for yourself.’

Dora held herself rigid as he stood up and came towards her. She could smell the sweat on him, see the wiry greying hair of his chest curling above his stained vest. His hands gripped her arms, pinning them to her sides as he forced himself against her, his mouth clamped on hers. As his tongue invaded her mouth, Dora forced her mind to go blank.

Do it for Josie, she told herself over and over again. Do it to protect your sister . . .

And then suddenly, abruptly, he released her, throwing her across the room with such force that she landed against the back door with a crash.

‘No thanks,’ he said gruffly. ‘Why would I want an ugly little cow like you in my bed when I could have a pretty little thing like Josie?’ He looked down on her, pityingly. ‘Shall I tell you something?’ he said. ‘I really had to force myself to do it to you sometimes. God, if I hadn’t been desperate . . .’

He broke off at the sound of Nanna’s voice in the back yard.

‘All right, Danny love? You guarding that coal hole again? No danger of anyone getting their hands on our coal with you around, is there, mate?’

Dora barely had time to scramble to her feet before her grandmother came in through the back door, laden down with shopping.

‘I’m telling you, that market isn’t what it was,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Time was when you could – oh, hello,’ she stopped when she saw Dora. ‘This is a nice surprise. D’you want a cup of tea?’

‘I—’

‘She’s on her way out,’ Alf interrupted Dora before she had a chance to speak.

Nick knew something was wrong the minute he walked in through the door. Danny was huddled in a corner, his head buried in his arms. He’d been picking at the ends of his bony fingers until they bled, a sure sign he was anxious.

‘All right, mate?’ Nick shrugged off his coat and went over to him. ‘What’s the matter? Has Mum had a go at you again?’ He would swing for her if she’d hit him again. You only had to raise your hand to Danny to send him into hysterics.

As Danny lifted his face to look at him, Nick saw his red-rimmed eyes and the rivulets streaming from his nose. He looked as if he’d been crying for hours.

‘What’s happened?’ He crouched down until his face was level with his brother’s, forcing his voice to stay calm even though anger pulsed through him. ‘Who did this to you?’ Whoever it was, he was going to tear them limb from limb. Slowly.

Danny wiped his nose clumsily on his frayed sleeve. ‘Alf h-hit Dora,’ he managed to stammer.

Nick went cold. ‘You what?’

‘I s-saw him,’ Danny lip wobbled. ‘He g-grabbed her, then he th-threw her like this—’ he pushed with his arms, nearly knocking his brother off balance.

Nick frowned. ‘Why would he do something like that, Danny? It doesn’t sound like Alf.’ It couldn’t be true, he told himself. Although he knew his brother wasn’t capable of telling a lie, sometimes he got confused.

‘I saw it!’ Danny insisted. ‘I was sitting out th-there.’ He pointed towards the back yard. ‘I saw Dora going in, and th-then I heard her telling Alf to l-leave Josie alone. She s-said she’d tell their m-mum but he just laughed at her. And then he . . . he hit her.’

He started to cry again, weeping noisy tears into his shirt sleeve. Nick automatically fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and thrust it at him, his thoughts elsewhere.

That dirty, filthy bastard. He felt himself begin to shake with anger. Suddenly it all made sense. Why Josie had run away, why Dora had been so worried about her.

Had he touched Dora too? He didn’t want to think about it, but remembering how she’d shrunk from him when he’d tried to kiss her . . .

He shot to his feet, propelled by a rage so white hot it would have sent him hammering Alf Doyle’s door down if Danny hadn’t whimpered with fear.

‘N-Nick, please,’ he begged. ‘D-don’t look like that. I don’t like it when you l-look like that.’

Nick looked at his brother, barely seeing him through a mist of fury as red as blood. Then, slowly, he forced himself to take a deep, steadying breath. He unclenched his fists, stretching his fingers until the knuckles cracked.

Alf Doyle could wait, he decided.

‘It’s all right, Danny,’ he soothed his agitated brother. ‘See? I’ve calmed down. I’m not going to do anything, mate. You ain’t got nothing to fear. Now let’s see if there’s anything in the house for tea, eh?’