Songbird (22 page)

“Aye well, it’s like riding a bike. Once you’ve been there you never forget.” He discreetly made reference to Maddy’s growing proportions. “Traveling about on trams can’t be very pleasant, when you’re eight months’ pregnant and—” he was about to say, “with a belly the size of Blackburn Gasworks.” Instead, he tailed off and gave a sheepish grin. “So, you’re all right, are you?” he asked lamely.

“Fine and dandy, thank you, Grandad Bob,” she replied with a knowing smile. “And you’re right, it’s
not
easy getting on and off buses and trams when you’re as big as an elephant.”

“I never said that!”

Maddy laughed. “Ah, but you were
thinking
it, I could tell.”

“But it were
you
that said it, an’ if it had been
me
, the two of you would have been down my throat like a ferret down a rabbit-hole!”

“You’re a loose cannon, Grandad,” Ellen grinned, “but we love you all the same.”

Bob Maitland smiled to himself.

He had family about him, and though he was prone to making the odd gaffe, he knew he was loved. There was laughter in his house, and a new baby on the way.

What man could be happier, he thought contentedly.

Maddy thought it was wonderful, seated here in the back of the car with two lovely, caring people up front. Sometimes in the house she had little time to think, but now, with the drum of the engine and the swish of tire against tarmac, she felt relaxed and at ease. But it wasn’t long before the doubts came flooding in. What future had they, she and the baby? She wondered how it would all end, and whether she would ever have the peace of mind she craved.

When the fears threatened to overwhelm her, she thrust them to the back of her mind, and now, as Grandad and Ellen got caught up in sharing old memories, she turned her attention on the unfamiliar landscape.

Preston New Road watched out over Blackburn Town from a great height. Flanked by handsome Victorian houses with deep bay windows and tall roofs, it was a main artery out of town; the roadway echoed to the rumble of vehicles, and the pavements were worn down by the dogged rhythm of passersby.

Nearby, Corporation Park, where the three travelers stopped to stretch their legs, was a haven amidst the hustle and bustle. With its impressive entrance and colorful flowerbeds, it was a treasured and well-used place. Along its many paths and deeper into the woodland areas, there were ancient trees older than the town itself. Excited children could slide down manmade cliffs, play in sandpits and run about to their hearts’ content. There were swings, and a lake, where the ducks and other birds played and chased, to create delight for the onlookers.

Maddy was already thinking how, in just a few short weeks, she could walk the baby in its pram, and show him or her the ducks in the lake, and when the child was a little older, the two of them could swing together and play in the sand, and create that special bond that united mother and child forever.

Like every other visitor, Maddy was amazed and delighted to see such a beautiful place set right there, so close to traffic and houses, creating a special world all of its own. Everything appeared so neat and precise, yet there was a savage wildness about it that drew you in, deeper and deeper, until your soul mingled with the primitive, and your senses were brought alive by all manner of sights and smells, and all the while you were made aware of the tiny creatures which foraged about in the trees and shrubs.

From one end of the park to the other, you would find any number of benches and alcoves, where you could hide from the world, or just sit and watch, and sometimes when you strayed from the main path you would stumble on secret, tree-lined walkways where you could wander at will and lose yourself for hours on end.

Maddy was thrilled at the thought of showing all that magic to her baby one day.

Soon they were back in the car and heading toward the moors. “Can you recall exactly where the inn was?” Grandad asked Ellen. “Because I’m buggered if I can.”

“It was too long ago,” she told him. “We’ll just have to try every which way and all keep a lookout.”

For the next hour or so, they enjoyed the beauty all around. They stopped at a babbling brook and paddled in the freezing cold water, afterward wiping their feet on Grandad’s old coat from the boot.

They lingered in the heart of the moors and looked out across a bleak and magnificent landscape. As they were watching the deer, timid and wary as they flitted across the horizon, on the skyline a rider and horse leisurely hacked along, and there in the trees a magnificent falcon stared down on them with bright, fierce eyes.

Enthralled and as wide-eyed as a child, Maddy thought she had never seen anything so extraordinarily beautiful.

After a while, when they grew hungry and in need of refreshment, they got back in the car again and meandered on. “Turn right,” Ellen suggested as they came to a fork in the road. “I’ve a feeling the inn is down this way somewhere.”

They had gone about half a mile, when Maddy shouted for them to stop. “Look — there it is!
Whitely Inn!
”

The sign on the tree was weathered and barely legible, but close up, you could just about read the writing.

“Good girl.” Grandad was aching for a long glass of something cool.

Another quarter of a mile and there it was.

“That’s it!” Ellen was amazed. “It must have been ten or eleven years since I was here, and it hasn’t changed a bit.”

“That’s not surprising,” Grandad quipped, “when it probably hasn’t changed much in hundreds of years.”

After parking the car, they walked the short distance on foot. Maddy took stock of the fine old building; with its tall windows and thick, impressive doorway, it resembled an old-time castle.

The interior carried the same style and atmosphere, with stone floors and dark narrow doorways, and all around, the wood-paneled walls were hung with gilt-framed images. Some of them depicted huntsmen seated by a fireplace, with their faithful hounds at their feet; others portrayed noblemen sitting around a table, their hounds in full sweat, with merry maids bringing them jugs of ale and tending to their every need.

Grandad caught the eye of a waitress. “Do you have a table for three?” he asked.

“For lunch, or a snack, sir?”

“Lunch, if you will.” He bestowed one of his beguiling smiles on her. “We’re all a bit famished.”

Ushering them to a table by the window, she then brought three beautiful menus which, being designed in brown and gold with a coat of armor at the head, were works of art in themselves.

She took their drinks order. “Let me make sure I’ve got it right,” she said as she read it back. “One large strong coffee, a glass of sarsaparilla, and two pots of tea, one with milk and one without?”

Satisfied, she moved away, leaving them to study the menus.

By the time their drinks arrived, the choices were made. Grandad was having steak and chips, with peas on the side; Ellen opted for fish-pie and mash, and Maddy fancied Lancashire hotpot. “I haven’t tried it yet.” she told the others.

The meals were delicious.

Having downed his cool drink, strong coffee and cleared his plate in record time, Grandad patted his full belly. “By! That were good,” he declared. “Just enough, and not too much.”

Ellen agreed. “I couldn’t eat another thing,” she said, noisily blowing out her cheeks.

Maddy ate less than the others. “It’s so filling,” she apologized. “Tastiest meal I’ve ever had, but half that portion would have been enough.” She groaned. “I feel as if I’ve eaten a whole cow.”

Ellen said she was not surprised that Maddy could only manage half. “I bet that poor little baby is feeling all squashed up,” she chuckled, “under that mountain of Lancashire hotpot.”

None of them had room for a pudding. But they each ordered another drink.

They enjoyed the banter a while longer, and then the girls decided they must “pay a visit to the lavvie” before they set off again.

Having got directions from the waitress, they made their way through the next room and down the long hallway; Ellen up front and Maddy waddling in the rear.

The Ladies Room was a revelation. The deep, wide window was set above a curved seat upholstered in plush red velvet. Each of the toilet cubicles boasted pretty oak shelves carrying dishes of dried and perfumed autumn leaves, and spare toilet rolls clad in pink fabric bags. There were old-fashioned brass knobs on the door, and a sample of embroidery depicting two lines from a Wordsworth poem hanging on the wall.

“Wow!” Ellen emerged to find Maddy waiting for her. “It’s even nicer than I remember,” she said.

The two of them were still deep in discussion as they approached the kitchen. “Phew!” Heavy with child and having eaten too heartily, Maddy paused for a breather and remarked on how the heat from the kitchen had made the corridor uncomfortably warm.

“I expect they leave the door open to let the heat out of the kitchen,” Ellen assumed, while looking anxiously at her friend.

As they drew nearer to the kitchen, they overheard a conversation between two men — presumably employees. “He got what he deserved,” one commented. “Pity they ever did away with hanging, that’s what I say.”

“You’re right. If any man needs a rope round his neck, it’s that Steve Drayton and all his kind. Scum of the earth, that’s what they are. But at least that one won’t be walking the streets again till he’s old and gray.”

“Hmh!” His colleague was not so sure. “I wouldn’t count on him being old and gray,” he snorted. “He’ll probably be out in less than ten years, and that’s no justice at all. A life-sentence should
mean
life.”

The conversation brought Maddy and Ellen to a halt. “Oh, Maddy! Did you hear that?” Ellen saw how pale her friend had become. “We can breathe easier now. Did you hear? They’ve put Steve away for life.”

Maddy felt as though a band of iron had been clamped to her chest, and she could hardly breathe.
That man
, put away for the rest of his life? She hardly dared let herself believe it.

“Look there!” Ellen pointed to the nearby windowsill, where a newspaper had been discarded. Its glaring headline straddled the top half of the page:

KILLER GETS LIFE

No Mercy For Drayton

Having settled the bill, Grandad came looking, concerned that the girls had been gone such an age. He found them slowly walking down the corridor, heads bent and immersed in earnest conversation.

He instantly noticed Maddy’s pallid complexion, and in a minute was at her side. “What’s happened, lass? Have you had a bad turn? What is it?” His kindly old face was wreathed in anxiety.

Maddy did not hear him. She was still thinking of those glaring headlines and the horrendous thing Steve Drayton had done. Alice was uppermost in her mind, and Jack, and the way she and Ellen had been forced to leave everything and flee for their lives. And even with Drayton put away, the danger would always be there, she thought dully. For as long as she lived, she would never again feel safe.

Ellen was quick to allay Grandad’s fears. “Maddy felt unwell,” she said, “but she’s feeling better now. All the same, we’d best get her back to the car, eh, Grandad?”

Maddy forced a smile. “I’m sorry.” She felt sickened to her stomach. The only thought in her head now was to get as far away from here as she could. “It was just a twinge, that’s all,” she assured them. “Nothing to worry about. Oh look, I know we planned to make a day of it, but I need to get home, if that’s all right with you?”

“O’ course, lass, and don’t you worry. There’ll be plenty of days out that the three — no,
four
of us — can enjoy together.” Grandad Bob was very excited about the new baby coming. At his time of life, joys of that kind were few and far between.

Leaving Ellen and Maddy waiting in the foyer, he hurried to the car park to fetch the car. A few minutes later, they were all settled into the Rover and were headed for home.

While Ellen chatted away to her grandfather, Maddy remained quiet. She felt strange. Yes, she was elated to know that her ex-lover had got his just deserts, and she hoped he would be made to serve out the full length of his sentence. But, like the kitchen-hand said, he should have been hanged for what he did; not least because he had taken the lives of two good people, but also because in his warped, crazy mind he saw
her
as being the means of his downfall. And there was no doubt in Maddy’s mind that, while there was breath in his body, he would spend every waking minute of his time inside planning his vengeance on her.

For months now, she had been haunted by images of her fallen friends Jack and Alice, and the monster who had run rampage that night in the alley. Yet somehow, she had coped. She had begun to sleep more soundly; the nightmares had eased, and life had eventually settled into some kind of pattern. Now though, she could not stop trembling. She was hot, then she was cold, and now something was happening that she could not explain. “I need to get out of here,” she said suddenly. Frantic, she scrabbled at the door handle. “Stop — please, stop!”

Seeing how flushed and ill Maddy looked, Ellen said, “Pull over, Grandad… quick.”

With traffic front and back, and no obvious lay-bys, it was not an easy thing to do, but he managed it. When they got Maddy out of the car, she stumbled on her feet and looked about to pass out.

“Easy now, lass.” Grandad slipped his arm round her waist, while Ellen supported her from the other side.

“Maddy, what is it?” Ellen cried. “Are you in pain?” Like Grandad, she was deeply alarmed.

Maddy’s first thought was for the baby. Every instinct told her there was something wrong, and though she had a tight, strangling feeling across her chest, she was in no real pain. “I can’t breathe.” It was as though her throat was closing up. “What’s wrong with me?”

She gulped the fresh air, and then she was talking to herself. “Come on, Maddy, breathe easy. Don’t let
him
win.” Seeing that headline had been a shock, yes, but this was something else. Something was not right.