Joseph paused. The bad memories had, by now, brought a scowl to his face. ‘Oh, but when she’d been at the booze, by God, Marie was the devil incarnate.’
He explained how Rita seemed, in time, to have naturally followed in her mother’s footsteps. ‘I can’t blame the lass for what she became,’ he said regretfully. ‘She grew up adoring her mammy, living in her shadow, seeing her kind and loving one minute, and in the next how violent and cruel she was.’
He took a moment to remember. ‘I should have left her then,’ he said gruffly, ‘but I loved her too much. I kept on hoping she’d come to her senses for the child’s sake, but she never did. And when the TB took her off when she was still in her prime, it seemed like my Rita took on her mother’s character … up and happy one minute, then down and shameless the next.’
He spoke of his son-in-law. ‘She were just a kid when she met Don, and oh, I was that pleased for her. I thought, here’s a good man, hardworking and decent. They will be happy together, not like Marie and me. Aye, he loved her as much as any man can love a woman, but when she went wrong, he couldn’t change her, any more than I could change her mammy.’
He hunched his shoulders. ‘I don’t blame him for walking out, and nor should anyone else. If I’d walked out, all them years back, I might have saved Rita from copying her mammy’s ways. In truth, Rita became worse than my Marie ever was. She went with men openly. She even did her dirty work with blokes who worked alongside Don at the factory.’ Growing emotional, he took a moment to compose himself. ‘There were snide remarks and cruel taunts, and my son-in-law would retaliate, like any other normal man would. But then there’d be fights, and he’d lose his job again and there would be no money coming in.
‘They say you shouldn’t speak ill of the …’ Unable to say the word, he closed his eyes, then quickly opened them again, and now his voice was stronger. ‘It pains me to say it, especially now she’s gone … but my daughter was a slut of the worst kind. There was such badness in her – almost as though her mammy had passed it on with a vengeance. And good man that he was, Don stuck with her, till his patience was tried too far. I knew it had to happen, and somehow I reckon I also knew that one day it would end in tragedy. She was like a runaway train, my Rita, heading straight towards a cliff-edge.’
‘Have you any idea where Don was headed?’ Tom wondered if the man had been informed of the situation – his wife dead, and his son missing.
‘No idea at all.’ Joseph had been thinking along the same lines. ‘When he left here, it was on the spur of the minute. He was in such a state, I don’t reckon he knew where he was headed himself. Although, he did give a slip of paper to young Davie, with someone’s name on it. The boy must have gone off with it.’
‘Well, Don will have to be told, won’t he?’ Tom queried. ‘He’ll need to know what’s happened. His wife is beyond his help now, but the boy needs his father.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’ Sad at heart and not knowing which way to turn, Joseph revealed, ‘I told the police the whole story, from beginning to end, and they promised to do what they could to find him.’
‘But they’re not really duty bound to do so, are they?’ Beth intervened.
Joseph agreed. ‘Happen they’ve done their duty in telling me about the accident, and mebbe it’s up to me to do the rest.’
‘But what about Davie?’ Judy persisted. ‘The police will have to find him, won’t they?’
‘I hope so, lass. After all, he’s only just coming up to fourteen. I told them how much he thought of his mammy and how badly this whole business would have affected him. Let’s hope they find him, eh? Aye, let’s hope they do. As for him going after his dad, he doesn’t have a penny piece on him, and the mood our Don was in when he left, it wouldn’t surprise me if he hasn’t already left the country – jumped on a ship at the docks mebbe, and gone to sea. They can always use a good carpenter on board ship.’
Tom was interested. ‘Was that what he hankered after?’ he asked. ‘Making for foreign parts?’
‘Yes. Right from when he went abroad with the Army he had an appetite to see the world. Said as how he’d like to join that scheme to emigrate to Australia … with all those wide open spaces where a man could breathe. Then again, he might have gone back to Ireland. I understand he has an old aunt there, although, as I recall, he hasn’t seen her in years.’
He yawned, and said sleepily, ‘Aye, happen that’s where he’ll be headed … Australia, or Ireland. One or the other, I’ll be bound.’
All talked out and exhausted from grief and the effects of the brandy, he began to nod off, and when he closed his eyes, Judy whispered to her mammy, ‘Can we go and look for Davie now?’
Carefully, without waking him, Tom helped the old man onto the sofa, where he promptly fell into a deep sleep. Judy ran to get a blanket and Beth laid it gently over him, and when they were certain he would be safe, they left the place, securing the door behind them.
Beth tapped at the house next door to let them know that Joseph was sleeping soundly. ‘Will you keep an ear out for any disturbance, Patsy?’ Beth asked the young woman who opened the door. She knew her vaguely from her visits here to collect Judy or pick up Davie.
‘I’ll be glad to.’ With her lank hair tied back with a grubby ribbon, the woman appeared to have her hands full with a multitude of children clamouring round her ankles. ‘It’s no bother at all,’ she assured them.
Thanking her, Beth explained, ‘He should be fine now, but I thought it best to let you know he’s on his own.’
Patsy agreed to look in on him within the hour. ‘Don gave me a spare key last winter, when the old man went down with pneumonia. There were times when Rita wasn’t … well, you know what I mean.’ A look of repulsion flickered across her features. ‘The boy needed looking after when his dad was at work. I just popped in from time to time to make sure everything was all right. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on old Joseph,’ she promised.
Beth was relieved. ‘Thank you so much.’
As she turned to walk away, she saw what she took to be the woman’s son, standing further back in the passageway. Tall and well-built, with dark eyes and longish dark hair, he was a good-looking boy. ‘This is my son, Lenny.’ To his embarrassment, the woman pushed him forwards. ‘He’s a handy sort.’
Thinking that was an odd thing to say, Beth smiled and nodded, and he nodded back, and as she went away Beth heard his mother reprimanding him for not keeping the children out of her road while she dealt with the visitor at the door. However, satisfied that Patsy and her husband Ron would take care of Davie’s grandfather, Beth returned to the car. ‘Apparently Don gave them a key when Joseph was ill last winter,’ she said, getting in beside Tom.
‘Very wise too,’ Tom declared, starting the engine. ‘What with Rita boozed out of her mind half the time and trawling the streets for men the other half, I expect he was concerned that someone should keep an ear out for the boy and his grandad.’
Feeling guilty, he addressed himself to Judy. ‘We’ll be on our way now, lass.’ Waiting for Beth to settle herself in the seat, he then pulled away from the kerb. ‘I know we could have gone back to search for Davie first, but I was worried about Joseph. I knew it would come as a shock when the police arrived to see him, and I just needed to make sure he was all right. And there was always the chance that Davie might be there.’
Judy understood. ‘It’s what Davie would have wanted,’ she said. ‘He must be worried about his grandad too.’
‘Well, at least old Joe is resting now.’ Tom gave his wife a sideways wink. ‘After the brandy your mammy plied down him, I dare say he’ll sleep till the cows come home. Matter of fact, if the Almighty Himself came knocking at the door, I don’t reckon Joseph would hear a thing.’