The little man was sweating. His bleak surroundings were all too familiar. The stench of misery seemed to waft through the room, and there was a sense of hopelesness in the very walls of the prison. Behind him, the warder stood watching, ready for the slightest wrong move by either the prisoner or his wretched visitor.
The little man looked up, directly into the flat dark eyes of the burly warder. “We’re late today,” he said pleasantly, but his voice fell on deaf ears. He knew what it was like. Often the guards deliberately did not bring the prisoners out on time. It was as though they took sadistic enjoyment in making them sweat to the last minute.
The little man wanted to be out of there as soon as possible. Twelve years off and on he had lived behind prison walls, and the very thought of being locked in even as a visitor, made the sweat drip down his back like a running tap.
Turning again, he nervously smiled at the officer. As before, the other man made no response. Instead, he stared down on him through those shark-like eyes, his hard expression seemingly set in stone.
The little man twitched and focused on the door through which Drayton would arrive any minute.
The moment he had the thought, the door opened, and Drayton swaggered to the table where he pulled out the chair and sat down, his eyes riveted on little Danny. “I take it you’ve got something for me?” Leaning forward he kept his voice low, so as not to be overheard.
Markedly jumpy, Danny glanced about.
“What the hell does that mean? You’ve either found her or you haven’t.” Having recently tangled with the worst kind of enemy behind bars, Drayton was in no mood for games. “Well?”
Not relishing the news he had to impart, Danny jogged Drayton’s memory. “Do you recall Jimmy Norman – the man who used to do a bit of running for you, at the club?”
Drayton wasn’t listening. He was watching as the guards escorted in a huge mountain of a man. Physically daunting, with wide beefy shoulders and the neck of a bull, he seemed to dwarf the officers who flanked him.
Two days ago Brewster was sentenced to life. Powerful and merciless, his aim was to bring the other prisoners in Brixton under his control. However, he had not reckoned with Drayton – and there was already bad blood between them.
Now, when he sauntered by, the atmosphere in the room was dark with loathing.
“As I was saying…” Sensing trouble, the little man called Drayton’s attention back. “Jimmy Norman…”
“Dammit, man, get on with it!” With his eyes boring into the back of Brewster’s head, Drayton looked fit to kill.
As quickly as he could, Danny told his story. “It seems one of Jimmy’s mates runs a gambling joint in Blackpool. Jimmy was up there – apparently the two of them are going into some venture or oth-” Seeing the look on Drayton’s face, he began to gabble nervously. “Bottom line is this. Jimmy was in Lytham when he spotted yer woman.”
Seeing how Drayton’s face lit up, he swiftly explained, “Sorry, boss, but you’re not gonna like this. Y’see, Jimmy had no idea you were looking for her, so when he recognized her from the club, he just thought to make a play for her. She gave him an address, and later when he called there, the landlord said he didn’t have no idea who this Maddy was. In fact, he threatened to make Jimmy pay for some other woman who had left the week before without paying the rent.”
“Stupid bastard!” Drayton pressed his clenched fists so hard against the table, the blood drained from his knuckles. “So the little trollop fooled him, did she?”
“Seems like it, yes, but one good thing’s come out of it. At least we’ve an idea where to be looking. I’m on to it, boss. You can count on me. North, south, east or west, trust me. There will be no stone left unturned.”
Sixteen
A week had passed. A week of sleepless nights. And tonight was no different. Exhausted though she was, Maddy could not sleep.
Ever since the bad experience in Lytham, she could only suspect that all too soon, her whole world would come crashing in on her.
She could flee. She had done it before and if need be, she could do it again. As far as she knew, Ellen was in no danger from Drayton. But what about the baby? If Drayton wanted
Sitting cross-legged on her bed, she swayed back and forth, going over everything in her mind. “I have to leave,” she murmured. “If I stay here, it could be disastrous for everybody. But if I leave, where will I go?”
Maddy knew it would be hard. She’d need to get as far away from here as possible. Find work. Make a home. And what of little Michael? Though her baby had come along in leaps and bounds and the doctors assured her his lungs were now as normal as those of any other baby, he had only this past week finished his hospital appointments. I don’t want to leave him here with Ellen, she thought. She had an agonizing choice to make. But then again, she couldn’t put him in danger by dragging him from pillar to post. What to do? What to do?
Another sobering thought crossed her mind. If she left him behind, would she ever see him again? Climbing off the bed, she began pacing, searching for alternatives.
The night outside her window grew darker and thicker, and still she paced the floor. The darkness broke and the dawn crept over the horizon, and she was no nearer to some kind of solution.
After a while, she came to realize that, for the sake of those she loved above all others, she had no option but to take the only route left open to her.
It took but a few minutes to wash, brush her hair and get dressed. She kicked off her slippers and thrust her feet into the one pair of sturdy walking shoes she owned.
Going to the wardrobe, she took out an overnight bag and put in it only the most essential items: a hairbrush, toothpaste and toothbrush, underwear, warm tights, a clean skirt and blouse, and a big thick jumper.
She was already closing the bag when she remembered the club photographs. She climbed onto the chair and, reaching up to the top of the wardrobe, she retrieved the brown envelope, which she then slid into the bag.
She did not look at the photographs; she had no wish to. There were far more pressing things on her mind right now.
After putting on her winter coat, she stood awhile looking out of the window at the changing skies, the tears flowing down her face and her heart raw with pain. It was like her world had come to an end… again!
Going to the crib, she lifted her son into her arms and gently rocked him. “You know how very much I love you, don’t you?” she whispered. “You know I would do anything for you.”
She kissed his eyelids and pressed her face to his, and when he stirred, she tucked him back into the cot. To gaze on that tiny face and know she might never see it again was too much to bear.
In that awful, precious moment, she thought she had never felt so alone; not even when she was in that dark alley, with Alice and Jack lying so still on the ground.
Hardly able to see for the tears that blurred her vision, she padded downstairs to the kitchen, where she went to the dresser drawer and, taking out a pen and paper, began to write:
