Forgive and Forget (29 page)

The prosecutor inclined his head. ‘But peaceably, Mr Longden. Peaceably.’ There was a pause before William was asked, ‘The officer who arrested you, Constable Halliday, says you are well known to him. That you live in the same street. How is it then that you say the constable is mistaken in his identification of you as being the person who threw missiles at him, knocked off his helmet and caused a nasty injury to his forehead?’

William shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But it wasn’t me.’

The prosecutor leaned forward to emphasize his point. ‘But the constable is courting your daughter, Mr Longden. Surely he knows you well enough to be able to identify you correctly?’

‘It was very dark – the street lamps had been smashed—’

‘By you?’

‘No, but there was a lot of confusion.’

‘There certainly was, Mr Longden,’ the prosecutor murmured. ‘Of that, we can be sure.’

At last, all the evidence had been given and after a time of consideration, the jury gave its verdict. Two prisoners were found not guilty but the rest, including William, were declared guilty. Polly waited in trepidation for the judge to make his pronouncement. The sentences were handed out individually according to the perceived severity of their actions. Those who had, like William, been unable to raise the bail money had their sentence reduced because of the time they had already spent in jail.

‘William Longden. Nine months reduced to six. With hard labour.’

On the last three words, Polly gave a little cry and fell forward. For a few moments she lost consciousness and so missed seeing her father being escorted out of the courtroom to begin his sentence.

They were still reeling from the shock of the sentence imposed upon their father. Polly and Violet sat on either side of the fireplace and stared into the dying fire. Miriam and Stevie had been persuaded to go to bed, but Polly doubted either of them would find sleep easy. Even at six years old – nearly seven – Miriam had understood enough to know that her father had been sent to prison. Only the baby slept peacefully in Violet’s arms.

There was silence in the kitchen, the only sound the ticking of the clock – a wedding present to William and Sarah – and the settling of coals in the fire. Brief sparks flared up the chimney illuminating the solemn faces of the two young girls, who sat staring into its glow.

‘What would Mam say if she was still here?’ Violet whispered.

‘I daren’t even think about that.’

‘D’you think she’d’ve been able to stop him?’

‘Maybe, but I doubt it. You know what a temper he’s got. And when he gets a bit of drink in him an’ all . . .’ Polly’s voice faded away.

They both knew only too well.

They sat for a long time until Polly sighed and pushed herself up. ‘We’d best get to bed, Vi. Things might look a bit different in the morning.’

‘How can they?’ Violet cried. ‘He’s not coming home, is he? Not for six months. And then what? He’ll’ve lost his job and no one’s going to give him another. Not now. Not now he’s branded a criminal.’

Polly didn’t answer; she knew her sister was right. And it might even reflect on the whole family. Would any of them be able to find employment after this? Would they all be classed as troublemakers? She looked down at her sister and, for once, was moved to feel pity for the younger girl. Violet looked stricken and frightened. Polly touched her shoulder and Violet grasped her hand, clinging to it. She looked up, tears filling her eyes. ‘Oh, Poll,’ she whispered, ‘what are we going to do?’

Polly knelt down beside the chair and put her arms around Violet and the baby. ‘We’ll manage, Vi. Haven’t we always? We’ve got to be strong. You and me. For the younger ones and especially for little Michael here.’

‘You’re the strong one, Poll. Not me.’ It was a rare moment of insight and one of confession, as Violet murmured, ‘I’m a selfish cow. I only think of mesen.’

Polly hugged her closer. ‘Well, this time, Vi, I’m going to need your help.’

‘I’ll try, Poll, really I will.’

For a few moments longer, the two sisters cuddled each other, drawing warmth and comfort from the physical closeness. At last Polly said softly, ‘Come on, Vi. We must get some sleep – if we can. You take Baby upstairs. I’ll lock up and see to the fire.’

Violet was about to mount the stairs when they heard a soft knock. The two girls glanced at each other, their eyes widening in fear. Who on earth was knocking at their door at this time of night?

‘You go, Vi, I’ll . . .’

‘No, I’m not leaving you and don’t open it, Poll. Not until you know who it is.’

They crept together towards the door, bending close to listen before Polly called out unsteadily, ‘Who – who is it?’

‘It’s me, Poll. I need to talk to you.’ It was the last voice Polly had expected to hear.

In the half light, the two girls glanced at each other.

‘He’s got a nerve,’ Violet muttered and, as Polly reached out to open the door, she added, ‘You’re never going to let him in?’

‘I – I have to, Vi. I must . . .’

‘Then you’re on your own. I don’t ever want to set eyes on Leo Halliday again. Not as long as I live. And if you have owt to do with him, Poll, the same goes for you an’ all.’

With that she clasped her baby closer to her and turned for the stairs.

Slowly, Polly opened the door and gestured silently for Leo to step inside. Wordlessly, she turned and went back to sit in the chair by the fire. Uninvited, Leo sat down opposite her.

For several moments he sat just staring at her. Polly refused to meet his gaze. The silence between them lengthened until at last Leo said hoarsely, ‘Say something, Poll. Talk to me.’

At last she raised her eyes to meet his troubled gaze and now they stared at each other. ‘There’s nothing I can say – or do – that’s going to alter what you’ve done.’

‘What
I’ve
done? What on earth do you mean by that?’ Now anger crept into his tone.

‘You arrested my father and now he’s been sent to prison for six months with hard labour. That could kill him.’

‘He was breaking the law. Inciting a riot. And he attacked me – an officer of the law – I had to do my duty.’

‘Oh yes. Your precious duty. You put that before anything, don’t you? You certainly put it before any member of
my
family. You arrested him yourself. You didn’t even leave it to one of your colleagues. Do I mean so little to you, Leo, that you can’t wait to put a member of my family in jail?’

‘Don’t be silly, Poll—’

‘Silly am I? I haven’t forgotten that you’ve been hounding our Eddie for years. Everything that happens, you come knocking on our door, just to see if it’s Eddie. You even thought he’d been involved with painting the lion in the park.’

‘Well, wasn’t he?’ Leo snapped back.

Polly felt the colour tinge her cheeks, but resolutely, she lifted her head and stared him out. ‘How would I know?’

‘Oh, I think you do, Poll. I really think you know only too well.’ His voice was soft now – and sorrowful. ‘And if we’re talking truth here, I don’t think you’ve always been honest with me.’

‘I’ve never lied to you, Leo.’ And she hadn’t, though deep in her heart she knew she hadn’t always been entirely honest with him. But she’d been protecting her family and who could blame her for that? It seemed, now, that Leo could. ‘Well, I don’t forget, Leo, and I don’t forgive easy either.’ She leant closer to him. ‘I’d just like to know if it was your father who’d got into trouble, would you have arrested him?’

Leo’s face was bleak, but he answered at once. ‘Yes, I would.’

Polly blinked, for a moment nonplussed by the swift and firm reply. After a moment she whispered, ‘Then what chance have the rest of us got?’

‘Poll, I know it’s going to be difficult. I’ll do what I can to help. I’ll—’

Polly stood up suddenly. ‘You’ll do no such thing. I want nothing to do with you. I don’t care if I never clap eyes on you again. You or any member of
your
family. This is my father’s house, so you can get out now. You’re not welcome here any more.’

He stood up slowly. ‘You don’t mean that, Poll. We’re going to get married, we—’

It took every ounce of Polly’s willpower to say, ‘There is no “we”, Leo. Not any more. Not after what you’ve done. It’s – ’ she hesitated briefly before uttering the final word that would end everything; everything she’d hoped for and dreamed of was shattered as she said – ‘over.’

Leo shook his head slowly. ‘You don’t mean it. You
can’t
mean it. I love you, Poll, and you love me. I know you do.’

‘I did, Leo. I loved you very much, more than you can imagine. But now? Well, at the moment, I don’t feel anything much at all.’

He touched her arm, but she flinched away from him as if his touch burnt her.

‘You’re upset. Of course you are. And you’re blaming me. I can understand that, but, given time, you’ll see I had to do what I did.’

‘No, I’ll never see that, Leo. I think you could have helped him. You could have got my dad away, out of the trouble. He’d have listened to you, he—’

Now Leo was getting angry. ‘He wasn’t listening to anyone. None of ’em were. They were like madmen. Half of ’em were roaring drunk and your dad was one of ’em.’

Now Polly had no arguments left, for she, more than anyone else, knew what her father was like when he’d got a bit of drink in him. And she’d seen for herself William’s actions that night. She was bitterly ashamed of him, but still her loyalty to him was strong. She couldn’t turn her back on him or the rest of the family; they needed her more than ever now.

Lamely she added now, ‘I still think there was sum-mat you could have done.’

‘There was nothing, Poll. Nothing at all. I had to do my duty. I had to arrest him.’ Bitterly, he added, ‘I risked enough by keeping quiet about his real occupation. I knew why your father had said he was a labourer. He wanted to protect the railway workers and – I suppose – his own chances of being reinstated when he comes out of prison.’

‘Yes,’ Polly whispered, staring at him. ‘I thought that too, but – but why, Leo? Why didn’t you tell the truth?’

He reached out to touch her, but she shrank from him. With a hopeless sigh, he said heavily, ‘I thought it might help him.’

Polly laughed wryly. ‘You expect me to believe that when it was you arrested him in the first place?’

‘I’ve told you before – I had no choice about that. He broke the law.’

‘But if they find out that you didn’t tell them the truth . . . ?’ Her voice faded away.

‘Then I’ll likely be facing some kind of disciplinary action.’

For a brief moment, she felt the familiar surge of love for him; he had tried to do something for her father after all. But then she hardened her resolve and her heart. There was no getting away from the fact that it had been Leo who’d arrested William in the first place. And for that she would never forgive him.

They stood staring at each other and then, with a little shrug, Leo moved towards the door. ‘If you won’t listen to reason, then I’d better go, but I’m not giving up on you, Poll. I’ll never do that.’

As the door closed softly behind him, Polly sank to her knees on the peg rug and bent double. Covering her face with her hands she waited for the tears, for the storm of weeping to envelop her. But no tears came.

Her devastation was too deep for tears.

‘Don’t come and see me again, Poll. I don’t want you to see me in here.’

Polly had gone up the hill to the prison to visit her father, but when she saw him she wished she hadn’t come. He shuffled into the room where prisoners met their visitors, his shoulders hunched, his hair long and unkempt and suddenly grey. His face was gaunt and yellow.

She swallowed. ‘Course I’ll keep coming, Dad. You can’t stop me.’

He smiled weakly. ‘Aye, but I can refuse to see you.’

‘Aw, Dad, don’t do that. Please.’

There was silence between them until he asked, ‘How’s everyone?’

‘Fine,’ Polly said brightly. ‘And Michael’s growing every day. I wish you could see him. He’s a lovely little chap and Violet’s doing a grand job.’ She forbore to add ‘now’. The time immediately after the child’s birth, when Violet might have rejected the little mite had it not been for Polly, would remain a secret between the two sisters.

‘And guess what, Dad?’ She knew she was chattering, out of nerves, she supposed. ‘Micky keeps coming round to see the baby. He’s admitted the baby’s his now. So we might hear wedding bells yet.’

William raised bloodshot eyes. ‘Bert’ll never let him marry our Vi. Not now specially.’

‘I don’t reckon Mr Fowler’ll have any say. You know Micky Fowler, Dad. If he makes up his mind he’s going to do summat, he’ll do it.’

After a moment’s pause, William said, ‘D’you think he’d be good to her?’

Polly shrugged. ‘I hope so, but Vi’s a fiery piece. She’d stand up for herself. And we’d all be around to keep an eye on her and the baby.’

‘Not for another five months, I won’t,’ William said gruffly.