Kitty Neale

A Mother’s Sacrifice


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in to mixing mortar for the wall that Harry was bricklaying.

      ‘All right, Bill,’ called Harry. ‘You were a bit worse for wear when you left the pub last night. You don’t look much better this morning. I reckon you’re a bloody lightweight who can’t keep up with us men.’ Harry laughed and several of the men around him joined in.

      Yeah, you can laugh now, thought Billy, but you’ll be laughing on the other side of your face soon. He just had to pick the right time to tell him, and by half past twelve that afternoon, much to Billy’s relief, the rain was falling so hard that work was stopped. They headed for the nearest pub, Billy rehearsing his words in his head as they hurried through the downpour. He was nervous about broaching the subject with Harry, worried that the man would lash out at him in anger, but a few pints of stout gave him the Dutch courage that he needed.

      ‘Harry, can I have a word, mate?’ he asked, drawing the man to one side.

      ‘Yeah, go on, Billy, what’s up?’ Harry was in a cheerful mood but Billy knew that what he was about to tell him would change all that.

      ‘Look, I dunno how to say this, but it’s about your Glenda.’

      ‘What about my Glenda?’ asked Harry, his smile suddenly diminishing.

      ‘It’s just that with you being a mate and all, I don’t really wanna have to tell you this, but I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I didn’t.’

      ‘Billy, what are you on about? Just spit it out, will you?’ Harry’s tone of voice revealed his loss of patience.

      ‘I’ve seen her, Harry. Seen Glenda out and about with another bloke.’

      Before Billy could say another word, Harry had slammed down his pint glass and had him by the throat up against the pub wall, snarling, ‘What you on about, Billy? What are you trying to say about my Glenda, eh? Reckon she’s a slag, do you?’

      This wasn’t how Billy wanted the conversation to go and he could feel his legs weaken with dread, his voice becoming high-pitched with fear. ‘No, Harry. I ain’t saying that, mate. I’m just saying that I’ve seen her, and the thing is, I know the bloke.’

      The pub had gone quiet, all eyes on them, and then the landlord spoke. ‘Any trouble, take it outside, lads.’

      Harry dropped Billy and yanked on his arm. ‘Outside, now,’ he growled in his ear.

      Billy was almost shoved out of the door and stood with his back against a brick wall as Harry paced in front of him. ‘Harry –’ he began nervously.

      ‘Right then, you’d better tell me what’s going on,’ Harry interrupted, and to Billy’s relief he seemed to have calmed down a bit.

      ‘It’s my brother, Frank. I saw him and Glenda in Battersea Park yesterday. I had a word with him about it and he says they’re just friends, but if you don’t know about it, I think it’s a bit suss.’

      Billy saw the colour drain from Harry’s face and his fists clench at his side.

      ‘Are you sure about this, Billy? My Glenda’s a good woman and, let’s face it, you’ve always had your eye on her. You sure you ain’t a bit jealous and out to cause a bit of bother?’

      Billy had feared that Harry might not believe him so had come prepared. ‘Harry, I wouldn’t lie to you. And the thing is, I found these in Frank’s bedroom. Do you recognise them?’ He took the stolen knickers belonging to Glenda and held them out to Harry.

      Harry grabbed them, crushing the fabric in his hands before he spoke.

      ‘Friends, eh? This brother of yours has obviously been seeing my wife behind my back and he reckons they’re just friends? So what the fuck is he doing with these? Where is he? Where will I find him?’

      ‘Harry, come on mate, he’s my brother. You ain’t gonna hurt him, are you?’ Billy asked, but in truth, he guessed that Harry would knock the living daylights out of Frank. Billy didn’t care much for his brother, and if that’s what it would take to put a stop to Frank and Glenda, then so be it, he thought to himself.

      ‘Nah, nah, I won’t hurt him, Bill. What makes you think that?’ Harry asked sarcastically. ‘I just want a quiet word in his ear, so come on, are you gonna tell me where he is or am I gonna have to knock it out of you?’

      These were the words that Billy wanted to hear. Harry had threatened him, which left him with no choice but to tell the man what he wanted to know. ‘He’ll be at work. He’s a porter at the Free Hospital.’

      Harry spun on his heel and with head and shoulders bent against the beating rain steamed off down the street towards the hospital.

      Billy smiled with satisfaction. After what Frank had coming, he doubted his brother would be seeing Glenda Jenkins ever again.

       Chapter 7

      Harry’s mind was racing as he approached the hospital. All sorts of sordid images flashed through his mind of his wife with Frank Myers. The dirty tart had left her knickers behind! Had they only been at it in Frank’s house or were they together in his bed?

      It all makes sense now, he thought, remembering how Glenda had acted so nervously when he had collected her from the hospital. Frank Myers must be the bloke who had been hanging around when he went to pick Glenda up, and yes, come to think of it, he remembered her calling him Frank. He scowled. This meant she’d seen him at least once since then, and maybe even before.

      His jaw clenched as he thought about his wife. The bitch. He’d fucking kill her! And of all the people to find out from, it had to be that tosser Billy Myers! He was sure that Billy had enjoyed telling him. Well, he hadn’t heard the last of this yet. He’d kick Billy’s fucking head in too once he’d finished with his brother.

      Harry yanked hard at the wooden entrance door and walked in, shaking the rain from his dripping black hair. He looked up the corridors, left and right, wondering where he would find the man who had been screwing his wife behind his back. A nurse walked towards him and somehow Harry managed to plaster a big fake smile on his face. If he wanted to find Frank, he knew he would have to turn on the charm.

      ‘Excuse me, Miss, but would you be so kind as to tell me where I might find Frank Myers? He’s a porter here, a good mate of mine.’

      The nurse thought for a moment then replied, ‘Frank’s gone home for the day, I believe. I’m quite sure I saw him leaving about an hour ago. He must have been on an early shift.’

      Without bothering to thank the nurse, Harry rushed back out of the door, then stopped in his tracks halfway down the path. He suddenly realised he had no idea where Frank lived, so he began to retrace the route he had just taken and headed back to the pub to find Billy.

      Helen was so grateful to Glenda for ‘babysitting’ her parents. It was always a worry to her when she popped to the shops, never quite sure what she would come home to. The larder at home was looking like Mother Hubbard’s so Helen had jumped at the offer when Glenda said she would stay there for a while so that Helen could go shopping. She didn’t plan on being out for long, especially in this horrendous rain.

      Glenda had called around that morning, eager to tell her all about the wonderful hours she had spent with Frank the previous day. It was so lovely to see her best friend happy again, and though Helen was worried about the consequences of Harry finding out, she felt confident that Glenda wouldn’t do anything silly to give the game away. Frank sounds like such a nice man, thought Helen, as she recalled the tales Glenda had told her. Who would have thought that anyone related to Billy Myers would be nice!

      Helen was soon outside the greengrocer’s but hesitated to go in, knowing that Betty Howard would be ready to pounce, keen to get any gossip she could. Prepare yourself, she thought, and just at that moment she heard a man’s voice shouting