A Brighter Tomorrow - Maggie Ford (thriller novels to read .txt) 📗

‘Dora! You have to come with me! We’ve never been parted.’ There was a stubborn look on the girl’s face. ‘I want to stay here.’

‘We might never see each other again.’

‘You’re not running away from prison. You can still come back and visit.’

‘Once I’m gone, I’ll never come back.’

‘Not even to see me?’ Moisture began to glisten in her young sister’s eyes. The sight made her feel close to tears. Angrily she sniffed them back.

‘Then stay here!’ she shot at her, the words catching in her throat. ‘See if I care!’

Mrs Lowe was coming – the tell-tale quick tread of short footsteps beneath a fleshy body, not plodding, like Bertram Lowe, for despite her weight Mary Lowe was light on her feet, as many chubby people are.

‘Dora, I’m asking you one last time,’ Ellie pleaded. ‘Let’s leave here now, together, you and me?’

Still Dora shook her head, her face creasing, tears now slipping down her cheeks. ‘Stay here, Ellie,’ she begged. ‘With me. Please?’

‘No, I can’t!’

‘I won’t know what to do without you. I shall miss you so.’

‘I can’t help that.’

The door to the room opened. ‘What do you think you are doing here?’ came the high-voiced demand. Ellie spun round on the woman.

‘Do you mind? I came to talk to my sister!’

The woman gasped, looking lost for words, as Ellie swept past her, only just managing to stop herself from saying, ‘Goodbye, Dora,’ over her shoulder and giving her intentions away.

It was dark as she let herself out through the kitchen and through the back gate to the alley, in a warm coat and with a veil keeping her straw boater in place.

Florrie was upstairs attending to her employers and their dinner guests. Mrs Jenkins was in the little cellar no doubt seeking out some special cheeses to go with the wines chosen for later. Only Rose had been there in the kitchen, bent over the sink washing up the used pots and pans.

The girl had looked up as Ellie passed. ‘What’s all that?’ she’d queried, seeing the two big bags Ellie carried.

‘Old clothes,’ Ellie had told her. ‘Doctor Lowe wants me to give them to someone who needs them. Be back in about half an hour, so no need to tell Cook. She’ll be too busy seeing to them upstairs to listen to you going on.’

Now she struggled along the road, the bags swinging against her skirt. At the corner of Cambridge Road she put them down and waited. There was no clock nearby to show her the passing of time. If Michael had suggested she wait by the pub on the corner of Bethnal Green Road, there’d have been a clock there. But perhaps he thought walking that far on a dark November night might be a little risky for an unaccompanied female.

The cold began to creep through her coat as she waited. Leaving her belongings on the pavement, she started pacing to keep warm, up and down, a few yards this way, a few yards that, counting each turn. After forty turns her heart had really begun to sink. He wasn’t coming.

Finally she stopped counting. What was the point? She should have known from the moment she arrived that he wouldn’t be coming. Well, if the truth were told, she had known deep down inside her. Stupid fool to imagine he would. His creature comforts mattered more. Like all men: spineless!

Racked between anger and despair she continued pacing. Give it a little while longer, then she would go. But she didn’t want to go. What if she missed him by a few minutes? She’d never forgive herself. Her mind’s eye saw him now, waiting, disappointed; what would he do? Go to where she lived, or had lived, to see if she was there. No one had seen her go except Rose. What would she say? Where would he know to look? And she could hardly go looking for him. But if he’d wanted to be, he would have been here by now – would probably have already been here waiting for her, if he’d loved her strongly enough.

Saturday evening, Cambridge Road busy with traffic, the whole world looking for a pleasurable night out. Couples dressed to go somewhere threw glances at her as they passed. She felt conspicuous. Making up her mind, Ellie stooped and grabbed up her bags. But where to go? Her old neighbour, Mrs Sharp, came to mind again. She would go there – see what happened. Yes, that would be her best bet. Her heart like a sodden lump of clay, she turned her face in the direction of Bethnal Green Road, the place she had once known so well.

She was moving off when a cab rumbled to a stop by the kerb with the driver pulling energetically on the reins. A man leaped out and came towards her. ‘’Scuse me, your name Miss Jay?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ve a note for you from Mr Michael Deel. He asked me to give it you.’

Dropping her bags she took the note from him, but before she could say anything he was back in the cab without asking if there was any reply, the vehicle moving out into the mêlée of other cabs and carriages.

Tears had already begun to well over. There was little need to read. She knew already what it contained; yet she had to open it, just in case.

Darling, I’m so sorry I can’t be there. Hope you haven’t been waiting too long. There’s been trouble at home. I don’t know how I managed to get this note to you, my father is so beside himself. I don’t care, I want to be with you, but I can’t, not tonight. He says I need not tutor you any more, Doctor Lowe will be making arrangements for another tutor to come. I want so much to be with you but hopefully you understand how things are at the moment…

Understand? Oh, yes, she understood, only too well. Screwing the