A Lesser Evil (52 page)

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Authors: Lesley Pearse

Tags: #Fiction, #1960s

BOOK: A Lesser Evil
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The second key on the cord he tried fitted the padlock and it opened easily, the chain falling to the ground with a clatter. Dan’s heart was pounding like a steam-hammer and his stomach churning as he pulled the door open.

Although it was only around four in the afternoon the light was poor in the barn even with the door open. He pulled the gun out of his pocket just in case. There was a large cage-like construction ahead of him, but he was halfway across the barn before he saw Fifi lying motionless on a mattress inside it.

‘No!’ he yelled, thinking she was dead. ‘Oh no, Fifi, you can’t be!’

He shoved the gun back in his pocket and had the keys ready to open the cage, when he glanced upwards and saw Yvette. She looked like a huge bat swaying slightly in the breeze. All at once he was crying, his fingers trembling so hard he could barely get the other key into the padlock, but he finally managed it, dragged the chain out through the bars and flung it down.

He reached Fifi in two strides, knelt down beside her and wept. She looked like a very dirty angel, her blonde hair flowing out over the mattress and her face so thin, white and lifeless.

‘No!’ he roared out in anguish, flinging the blanket from her and scooping her up into his arms. ‘I should have killed him too, the bastard. How could he do this?’

A kaleidoscope of images ran through his mind. Their first meeting in the coffee shop in Bristol, Fifi running to him barefoot across the Downs last summer, her hair like spun gold in the sunshine. In her cream suit and pink hat on their wedding day, with a smile as wide as the river Avon. Sitting up in bed on Christmas morning, with panda eyes from the previous night’s mascara. And all the lovemaking, those long silky legs wrapped around him, kisses sweeter than he’d ever known before. He didn’t want to live without her.

He sobbed as he rocked her, showering her dirty, cold face with kisses, his tears making rivulets down her cheeks. But all at once he felt a slight movement in his arms, and the tip of her tongue came out between her parched lips, licking at his tears.

‘Fifi!’ he exclaimed. ‘You’re alive!’

‘Dan?’ she croaked out, struggling to open her eyes. ‘Is it really you?’

In that instant Dan knew utter bliss. Nothing had ever or could ever be that good again.

‘Yes, baby,’ he said through tears of joy, rocking her in his arms. ‘It really is me. I’m going to take you home.’

‘Dan?’ Clive’s voice came from the doorway of the barn. ‘Is she there?’

All at once Dan remembered Yvette, and knew he mustn’t let the boy see that.

‘Yes. Go and get in the car. I’m bringing her out.’

‘I knew you’d come for me,’ Fifi whispered, her voice so cracked Dan could scarcely hear. ‘You’ve never let me down.’

Chapter Twenty

‘I’ve found her,’ was all Dan could manage to say to Clara when he telephoned her hotel from the hospital.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, to spin round the room or to get down on his knees and thank God. He certainly couldn’t hold a sensible conversation.

‘You tell them about it, I can’t,’ he said, handing the receiver to the policeman with him. ‘Tell them I’ll ring them later when I’ve gathered my wits,’ he added, grinning like an idiot.

He walked down the hospital corridor from the private room where they’d put Fifi, and in a quiet spot away from other people he paused by a window overlooking the car park. The rain was still lashing down, and it was already almost dark though it was only about seven, but he felt he had been blessed today, and such a holy state should not be spoilt just yet with explanations.

He would never forget driving back down that narrow lane, Fifi slumped in the seat beside him, Lightning leaning his head over from the back seat, his long nose on her shoulder, Clive, also in the back, firing out questions.

It was from Clive’s house that he phoned the emergency services, after giving Fifi her first drink of water. He thought it was funny how often people claim to be dying of thirst, when they really have no idea what it must be like. He certainly got the idea as he watched Fifi drink; she would’ve drunk a gallon if he’d let her, but he remembered from old Westerns that people got sick if they drank too much at once.

How he managed to speak coherently to the police, to say who he was, that there was a body in the barn, explain where it was, and that he needed an ambulance immediately to Hurst Road, he didn’t know. But he’d barely drunk a cup of tea, and it was at the door.

He smiled as he remembered Jean, Clive’s mother; just a very ordinary mum with a flowered frock and a tight perm. She was so startled when he burst through the door behind Clive, carrying Fifi in his arms. No doubt young Clive would be rabbiting on about it for weeks, driving his poor mother mad. He would have to phone her soon, explain and thank her properly, not to mention apologize for dragging her son into a potentially dangerous situation.

By the time the local police got to the hospital, Fifi had only managed to tell him that Yvette took her own life. He could tell by her expression that there was a tremendous amount more she wanted to say, but she was too weak. Dan felt much the same; he knew that very soon he would have to explain his part in all this fully to the police – all he’d told them so far was the barest essentials – but right now all he cared about was that Fifi was alive. The doctor had said she’d be fine in a few days as she was young and strong, and that was all that counted.

Dan felt a tap on his shoulder. It was the policeman again. A nice copper, middle-aged, fat-faced and fatherly.

‘I’ve explained as much as I can to your in-laws,’ he said with a warm smile. ‘But given that I don’t know much myself, that was difficult. They are coming over here now; I’ve arranged for one of the officers from Kennington to bring them. Will you be up to talking to them? And would you like me to drive you back to Hurst Road to collect your car while we wait for them?’

Dan took a deep breath. ‘It’s not mine, it’s Jack Trueman’s. I think I told you he is the man behind all this. Did the Kennington police tell you if they picked him up?’

The policeman half smiled. ‘Indeed they have. They said you doled out some very rough justice. That was foolhardy, you know, by all accounts he is a very nasty customer.’

Dan remembered then that he still had the gun in his pocket. He couldn’t own up about it as it might get Johnny into hot water. He needed to get outside and hide it somewhere before the Kennington police got here, and he also wanted to get back to Fifi.

‘I don’t mean to be rude,’ he said. ‘But I’d just like to go outside and have a fag before I go back to see Fifi. I know you must want some proper explanations but I’m a bit shaky right now. Can it wait?’

The policeman put one hand on his shoulder in a gesture of understanding. ‘Of course it can, son. You did a great job and she’s safe now thanks to you. You go off now, and get yourself something to eat while you’re about it; you look as if you haven’t eaten for days either. Detective Inspector Roper will want to talk to you when he gets here, and you won’t be much good to him if you’re passing out with hunger.’

‘Your mum and dad will be here soon,’ Dan said as he sat down beside Fifi’s bed some time later. He’d wrapped the gun in a handtowel he’d found in the toilet, put it in a plastic bag and hidden it behind a tree next to a hospital outbuilding. It would be safe enough there until tomorrow. He’d had a cigarette, a cup of tea and a bun, and finally persuaded the ward sister to allow him in to see Fifi.

But now he was alone with her, he couldn’t find the words he wanted to say.

She looked so thin and pale, her eyes dull and her lips cracked, and a sudden rage had welled up in him that anyone could knowingly leave her to starve to death. She had been to hell and back, that much was certain, and it might be some time before she felt up to telling him about it.

The local police officer had said that he’d been on two cases where someone had hanged themselves, and both times he’d been a wreck after it. So what would it have done to Fifi? Yvette was her friend, not a stranger, and she’d been forced to stay there with the body, perhaps thinking she’d remain in the barn with it till she died too. He really wished that at least one of the men involved had been out at the barn; he would have enjoyed kicking his head in.

‘It’s so lovely to be warm again,’ Fifi said. Her voice had been cracking when he found her, but it was only husky now that she’d had several drinks. The sister said she’d had soup and some rice pudding too. Fifi had apparently asked for more, but had been told she had to wait a while so they could be sure she had digested that properly.

They’d washed her, brushed her hair and promised that tomorrow she could have a bath and wash her hair. She said she felt fine again, but Dan knew that really meant she only felt a lot better, not that she was anywhere near back to normal.

‘I thought you’d be asking me lots of questions,’ she said. ‘Are you still angry with me?’

‘Angry?’ Dan repeated in astonishment. ‘Of course not. Why should I be?’

‘Well, the last words we had before this were angry ones.’

‘That was eleven days ago,’ he reproached her. ‘I forgot it all the moment I got the letter from you.’ He told her briefly how he’d gone back to Dale Street that evening and suspected something was wrong straight away when she didn’t come home.

‘It seems so much longer than that,’ she said, taking his hand and looking at the broken skin on his knuckles. ‘I’m not even sure what day it is.’

‘Tuesday,’ Dan said. ‘You were in that place a week. But it seemed like a month to me. I was frantic with worry. It wasn’t until your parents arrived on Saturday that I really got anyone to take your disappearance seriously.’

The door opened and Clara and Harry came in.

‘Darling,’ Clara said, bearing down on her daughter, arms open wide to hug her. ‘You can’t imagine how wonderful it was to get that call from Dan, even if he didn’t say much.’

Dan watched the family reunion closely. Fifi returned her mother’s hug and assured her she was already feeling better, but there was still a slight chill there. She was warmer with her father, holding on to his hand while her mother spoke of the reporters, the endless waiting and her brothers’ and sister’s joy when she phoned them to say Fifi was rescued.

‘Now we’re taking you home just as soon as you can leave here,’ Clara said bossily. ‘You need good food and plenty of sleep to get your strength back.’

Fifi’s face tightened. ‘I’m staying with Dan,’ she said.

Clara looked round at Dan, and he could only shrug.

‘Dan can come too,’ Harry spoke up. ‘We certainly wouldn’t want to separate you.’

‘Of course Dan’s coming, aren’t you, Dan?’ Clara turned to him, looking for his support.

‘I’ll go along with whatever Fifi wants,’ he said. He was surprised that Clara didn’t realize that Fifi couldn’t possibly know everything had changed while she’d been missing. She really ought to explain!

‘Dan!’ Clara said reprovingly, and he grinned.

‘It’s up to you, Ma,’ he said. ‘Fifi’s a lot of things, but I don’t think she’s psychic.’

Like sun coming out from behind a cloud, Clara suddenly smiled as she realized what he meant.

She turned back to Fifi and caressed her cheek. ‘Would you like me to introduce our new son-in-law? He’s wonderful, everything we ever wanted for our daughter.’

The gaiety and joy in her voice made Dan’s eyes well up. He felt like hugging Clara for she couldn’t know what her words meant to him.

‘You’ve made friends?’ Fifi asked, her eyes lighting up.

‘We made friends long before he became a hero.’ Clara smiled. ‘I know I always think I’m right about everything, but in Dan’s case I was as wrong as wrong can be.’

‘Daddy?’ Fifi looked up at her father.

Harry gave a little chuckle. ‘Well, I have to admit I found him amusing from the start, but I’d have created mayhem if I’d admitted it. We couldn’t have got through this past week without him, Fifi, we are astounded by his courage, and we hope he’ll always be a big part of our lives from now on.’

Fifi’s eyes filled with emotional tears, and Dan was fighting his back.

‘Do you know what he did?’ Clara asked Fifi, her face full of wonderment. ‘Detective Inspector Roper rang us before we left the hotel. Dan went all alone to see the terrible gangster that was behind all this, bearded him in his den, so to speak. He fought him and tied him up and forced him to admit where you were. Then he took the man’s car and drove to find you. Isn’t that just about the most marvellous, brave, romantic thing you’ve ever heard of ?’

A couple of huge tears trickled down Fifi’s face as she looked at Dan.

‘Will you come home now?’ Clara asked.

Dan nodded his agreement to Fifi.

‘Okay, Mum, we’d love to.’ Fifi sniffed back her tears.

‘You don’t know how lovely it was to hear you say all that!’

Dan felt the warmth in the air for the remainder of the visit. Perhaps her parents realized, as he did, that Fifi wasn’t quite with it, because they didn’t attempt to question her or speak of how frantic they’d been. To listen to her mother talking about the boys and Patty, a stranger would have thought she and Harry had just had a little holiday in London.

Dan was happy just to sit at the end of the bed, listening and watching. All Fifi needed right now was stability and affection. Tomorrow was quite soon enough for her to reveal what she’d been through. Perhaps she’d never want to talk about it.

The police officer who’d brought them here suddenly put his head round the door to ask the Browns if they were ready to go back to the hotel.

Clara looked anxiously at her daughter, clearly thinking it was too soon.

‘You go,’ Fifi said. ‘And go back to Bristol tomorrow. I know you don’t like being away, and Peter, Robin and Patty need you too.’

Dan saw then that she’d grown up a lot in a week. There was concern for them in her voice, tenderness in her face.

‘We can’t do that!’ Clara looked scandalized.

‘Of course you can, I’m already on the mend,’ Fifi said airily. ‘There’s no point in you two hanging around. Dan will bring me down when they discharge me. And I can phone you.’

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