The Clippie Girls Page 29

  ‘We should get the police?’

  ‘Wait till your mother gets in.’

  ‘But we can’t just sit here, Gran. The sooner they know about it, the quicker they’ll be finding whoever’s taken him.’

  Grace glared up at her, ‘But if . . .’ She stopped, realizing that Letty’s antennae were on full alert.

  ‘She’s right, Mrs Booth.’ Letty nodded. ‘That first hour, they say, after a crime – any crime – has been committed is the most important.’

  Grace sighed heavily. ‘You’d better go and tell them, then, Myrtle.’

  As Myrtle ran out of the house again and up the road, Letty said sympathetically, ‘I know how you feel, love. You don’t want everyone knowing you couldn’t look after your own great-grandson, but it’s for the best.’

  Grace closed her eyes and moaned inwardly. Letty had correctly guessed her feelings, but at hearing it put into words Grace cringed.

  Forty-Two

  Myrtle ran until she felt her lungs might burst. But on and on she ran to the nearest police station. The words for what she would say whirled around her mind, but when at last she almost fell through the doors and staggered towards the reception desk, the only words she could gasp out were, ‘Please – help us. Someone’s taken him.’

  She was lucky that a kindly sergeant with children of his own was on duty. He could see at once that the girl was very distressed. He came out from behind the desk, took hold of her arm and led her to a nearby chair. ‘Now, lass,’ he said gently, ‘what’s to do?’

  ‘Freddie. Someone’s taken him out of his pram. It was outside the front door . . .’ she was babbling, almost incoherently, to the patient sergeant. When she had said it all once, he made her repeat it more slowly, whilst he wrote down the details. When at last he had the full story, he was quick to summon help and as soon as the word went round the station that a child – a baby boy – had gone missing, stolen from his pram, four constables seemed to appear as if by magic. Quickly briefed by the sergeant, they put on their helmets and hurried out.

  ‘We’ll find him, love. Don’t you fret.’ The sergeant turned back to Myrtle. ‘Now, are you his mam?’

  ‘No, no. He’s my nephew. He’s my sister’s.’

  ‘And where is she now?’

  ‘At work. At least—’ Myrtle glanced at the clock on the wall behind the desk. ‘She might have got home by now.’

  ‘Then what we ought to do first is to go and see her. I’ll be off duty in ten minutes when I’ll be relieved from here and I’ll come with you.’

  ‘Letty’s there. She saw someone pick him out of the pram, but she thought it was Peggy. That’s my sister.’

  ‘The boy’s mam?’

  Myrtle bit her lip as she nodded. There was still the unspoken fear at the back of her mind that it had been Peggy who’d taken him. At this very moment she might be handing him over to adoptive parents. She shuddered at the thought. Seeing her action, the sergeant said, ‘What you want is a nice hot cup of tea. I’ll see what I can do.’

  Why was it, Myrtle thought impatiently, that all anyone could think of in a crisis was to make a ‘nice hot cup of tea’? But she didn’t refuse him. Her mouth was dry and her heart was still pounding as if it would leap from her chest. And there was no more she could do for the moment, except wait for the sergeant to be ready to leave.

  After ten minutes, which seemed to the anxious girl to be more like ten hours, the officer was ready. ‘My name’s Sergeant Baxter,’ he told her as they walked out of the station. He began to stride quickly along the street. Myrtle had to take little running steps to keep up with him, but both she and the sergeant were glancing about them as they walked.

  ‘Now, lass, tell me who I’m going to meet when we get to your home. It’ll save time with a lot of introductions.’ By the time they arrived at the front door, Sergeant Baxter felt he already knew each member of the household and even one of their neighbours, Letty Bradshaw. As Myrtle led him into the house, past the empty pram still sitting outside, and opened the door into the living room, they were met by raised voices. Rose was arguing loudly with her grandmother. Mary was wringing her hands, tears running down her face. Only Peggy sat quietly at the kitchen table, her arms resting on it. She was staring straight ahead, her face chalk-white. She seemed unaware of the commotion around her.

  Myrtle pointed to each member of her family in turn and told him their names. ‘And the one in the kitchen – that’s Mrs Bradshaw from next door.’ Letty was again making the obligatory cup of tea.

  ‘Right, lass. You leave it to me, now.’ The sergeant, a tall and commanding figure, stepped into the room and said loudly, ‘Now, now, ladies, this won’t help.’ The talking stopped and the sergeant placed his helmet on the table and sat down beside Peggy. He pulled out his notebook. ‘Myrtle has told me a lot already, but I need as much information as you can give me. What was the little chap wearing?’

  Peggy continued to stare straight ahead as if she had not even heard the man speaking to her.

  Mary wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. ‘Come on, Peggy love, you have to help the sergeant.’

  ‘It’s my fault – it’s all my fault,’ Peggy murmured. Grace and Myrtle glanced at each other grimly. Surely they hadn’t been right. It didn’t seem credible that Peggy could have done such a thing, but here she was admitting it. But then, Peggy went on bitterly, ‘I should never have left him with a schoolgirl and an old woman.’

  Grace leaned her head against the back of her chair and closed her eyes, whilst colour flamed Myrtle’s face. They felt guilty enough themselves without hearing Peggy say it. But then, Myrtle thought, if Peggy had taken the child herself, she would be trying to put the blame on others to divert suspicion.

  Mary, though her face was bleak with anxiety, put her arm round her daughter. ‘That’s not fair, Peg. It could have happened to any of us. I put him out there in the sunshine only last week.’

  Letty came into the room, carrying a tray. ‘Ah,’ the sergeant said, ‘now you must be Mrs Bradshaw. I understand that you saw—’

  ‘Shouldn’t you be out looking for him?’ Rose interrupted tartly.

  ‘There are four officers already scouring the streets and there will be more very shortly,’ Sergeant Baxter said calmly. He turned back to Letty. ‘I understand you saw someone take the little boy?’

  Letty nodded, revelling in being the centre of attention for a few moments. ‘I thought it was Peggy. It looked just like her, ’cos she was dressed in dark clothes. I thought it was her uniform.’ She nodded to Peggy, Mary and Rose, who were all still dressed in their clippie uniforms.

  ‘Can you give me a description of her facial features?’

  Letty shook her head. ‘No, she had her back to me.’

  ‘Did you see which way she went?’

  ‘Well, she didn’t come past my door, so she must have gone down the street. But I didn’t actually watch her, you know. I’ve got me work to do.’

  Rose was agitated. ‘Do you want me for anything, Sergeant? Because if not, I’m off out to look for him myself. I can’t just sit here drinking tea.’

  ‘If there’s nothing you can tell me, miss, then yes, you go. The more people out there the better.’

  Letty glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘I’ll get my Tom to go out. He’ll be home from work any minute. And he’ll round up all his mates.’

  ‘The woman could be anywhere by now.’ Peggy shrugged as if she thought searching the streets was futile. ‘She could have got on a bus or a tram.’

  ‘That’s it!’ Myrtle cried. ‘The trams – and maybe the buses too – we’ll get all the drivers and clippies to watch out. I’ll go now.’ She was out of the door before anyone could say a word or attempt to stop her. Not that anyone wanted to. Anything was better than sitting there helplessly.

  ‘I’ll go with her,’ Rose said and hurried after Myrtle. As she reached the front door, she saw Myrtle in the street talking to Mrs Deeton. The g
irl turned, ‘Oh, Rose, Bob’s mam’s come to see you. I’m off.’ And again, without waiting for a response, Myrtle was running up the street.

  ‘I can’t stop, Mrs Deeton,’ Rose said. ‘I’m sorry. Someone’s taken Freddie out of his pram. We’re in a panic.’

  ‘Oh, I am sorry to hear that. I just came to tell you that Bob’s home and he wants you to come round.’

  ‘Oh! Oh yes, I will as soon as I can, but I really can’t—’

  ‘Of course not, dear. Off you go.’

  When Rose arrived, breathless, at the depot, Myrtle was already talking to Laurence Bower, gesticulating towards the trams. As she joined them, Rose heard Laurence say, ‘Course we will, lass. I’ll pass the word right away. Rose, I’m so sorry to hear what’s happened. We’ll do all we can to help. And I’ll have a word with my opposite number at the bus depot at once.’

  As they went home together, glancing about them anxiously as they walked, staring into each pram that passed by, Myrtle said, ‘Rose, you don’t think it was Peggy that took him, do you?’

  ‘Eh?’ Rose was so startled by the suggestion that she stopped walking and turned to face Myrtle. ‘What on earth are you talking about, Myrtle?’

  Swiftly Myrtle explained the dreadful thought she’d had. ‘And it crossed Gran’s mind too. I’m not the only one to think it. And you saw how she was just now – just sitting at the table while the rest of us are running round like headless chickens, out of our minds with worry. And she was quick to lay the blame at Gran’s and my door. Oh, I know we are to blame, but Rose, I was sitting in the front room working and I glanced up every few minutes. Honest, I did.’

  Myrtle was a tough kid and rarely cried, but now tears filled her eyes. Seeing them, Rose linked her arm through her sister’s. ‘Don’t take on, love. Like Mam said, it could’ve happened to any one of us. I left him outside the butcher’s the day before yesterday when I was queuing for our rations. He must have been out there on his own for half an hour.’ She shuddered.

  ‘Oh, Rose, what if we never see him again? What if—?’

  ‘Don’t, Myrtle. Don’t say it.’

  The thought was far too painful for either of the girls to contemplate.

  ‘We’ll find him if I have to get the whole of Sheffield looking for him. But we’ll find him, Myrtle.’

  ‘And if it is Peggy who – who—’

  ‘I don’t believe that for a moment, but if it is,’ Rose added grimly, ‘then I’ll deal with her.’

  Forty-Three

  The night was long and filled with an overriding terror that robbed all of them of sleep. Grace refused to go to bed, but sat in her chair by the fire all night. Exhaustion made her doze off, but then she awoke each time with a jump and a startled look – until she remembered. Mary sat with her through the night, but she insisted that Myrtle should go to bed.

  ‘I want to go out with Rose to look for him.’

  Rose was adamant that she wouldn’t give up searching until he was found.

  ‘You can’t do anything in the dark, love,’ Mary pointed out sensibly. ‘Nor you, Rose. It’d be better if you both got some sleep and went out again tomorrow.’

  Mary didn’t hold out much hope of them finding him. Whoever had taken their darling boy would now have him safely hidden away. She just hoped that whoever had him was looking after him properly.

  At last, after much arguing, Rose and Myrtle accepted their mother’s advice and went to bed, but it was only to lie awake whispering to each other through the long hours of darkness.

  Morning came at last and Rose and Myrtle dressed hurriedly and rushed downstairs, bursting into the kitchen. ‘Any news?’

  Mary, red-eyed from a sleepless night and the tears she’d shed, shook her head. ‘No. I’ve been to the corner and rung the station from the telephone box, but the duty sergeant said there’d been no news.’

  ‘Was it Sergeant Baxter?’

  ‘No, he’s on duty at ten and he’s coming round here.’ She turned to glance at Rose, who was dressed in her ordinary clothes – not her uniform. ‘I thought you were on the early shift today?’

  ‘I’m not going in. I told Mr Bower yesterday. He understands,’ she added swiftly as her mother opened her mouth to argue. ‘Me and Myrtle are going out again today.’

  ‘Just make sure you come home for meals.’

  ‘We won’t have time, we—’

  But now Mary was firm. ‘You not eating properly and making yourselves ill won’t help find Freddie. Now, please, girls, do as I ask. Gran says she will get meals ready and wait here for any news. Letty and I are going out together.’

  For the first time Grace spoke, her voice sounding frail. She looked as if she’d aged ten years in a night. ‘Tom and all the men from our street were out until gone midnight and they’re all staying off work today.’

  ‘Steel works’ll be shutting down then,’ Rose said wryly, with a weak attempt at humour, but no one was in the mood for laughing.

  After a quick breakfast, the girls set off. Letty arrived a few moments later and she and Mary took a bus into the city centre. What they could do none of them really knew, but they needed to be out, needed to be doing something.

  To everyone’s surprise and Rose’s disgust, Peggy said she was going into work. ‘You’re wasting your time roaming the streets. She’ll have him kept well out of sight now.’

  Rose regarded her sister with narrowed eyes, but for now she held her tongue. So, only Grace, left at home, felt helpless and useless. The knock at the front door was a welcome interruption to an ominously silent house. How she longed to hear the girls laughing together or even arguing and, more than anything, how she yearned to hear Freddie’s gurgling. Even his yelling would be welcome now.

  ‘Oh, Sergeant, do come in. Have you any news?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Booth, but the answer’s no.’ As they moved into the living room and sat down he added, ‘We’re thinking of going to the newspapers, but we wanted the family’s approval first.’

  ‘If you think it best,’ Grace said slowly, ‘then, yes, though I shudder to think what will be said about us. That we can’t look after him properly.’

  ‘There’s always someone ready to find fault, love, but you shouldn’t worry. If I had a pound for every mother who leaves her baby out in its pram, I’d be able to retire tomorrow. Now I’m glad I’ve caught you on your own because I’d like you to tell me a bit more about the little lad’s mother. I noticed yesterday – though, of course, it might have been that she was in shock – that of all of you she was – well – the quietest.’

  Grace glanced at him shrewdly. She bit her lip, but knew that she had no choice but to confide in him. Her granddaughter’s shame was common knowledge in their street and probably beyond, but now it was to be gossiped about around the police station and possibly revealed to the newspapers, she hesitated. She’d always loved reading The Sheffield Star, but she didn’t want her family’s troubles splashed across its front page.

  As if reading her mind, Sergeant Baxter said gently, ‘We’ll have to give the little chap’s name, of course, and say where he lived, but there’ll be no need to go into detail other than that.’

  ‘Lives, Sergeant,’ Grace snapped, anxiety and shame making her tone sharp. ‘Lives.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ the patient man said and took out his notebook.

  For the next hour the two of them drafted out a suitable item for release to the papers.

  ‘I don’t know why we’re bothering,’ Grace grumbled, ‘they’ll still print just what they like and make it sound as salacious as possible.’

  But the sergeant shook his head. ‘No, you’re wrong there, Mrs Booth. I know the editor at the Star very well and, with something like this, they only want to help. I shall see him personally and the piece will be very discreet, I can promise you that.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Grace glared at him. She wasn’t convinced even though the sergeant added, ‘It’s the only way to get the word out there fast. We n
eed people to come forward with any information they might have. Information that they don’t even realize at the moment is important.’

  Grace narrowed her eyes. ‘What sort of information?’

  ‘If they’ve seen a relative, a friend or even a neighbour with a baby that wasn’t there before yesterday. Even if they’ve heard a baby crying that’s unusual.’

  ‘You mean if someone’s suddenly acquired a baby?’

  ‘Exactly. And we need to get a description of the woman Mrs Bradshaw saw out there. Someone might have seen her in the street, on a bus or a tram.’

  Grace explained that Rose and Myrtle had enlisted the help of the public-transport workers in the city and the sergeant nodded his approval. ‘That was a very good idea.’

  They talked for a while longer and then the sergeant stood up. ‘I must be getting back to the station and in touch with the editor.’

  ‘You will let us know if—’

  ‘Of course. You’ve no need to fret on that account. We’ll keep you posted on any developments, I promise.’

  Grace tried to smile. ‘Thank you. You’ve been very kind.’

  As she stood up to see him out, Sergeant Baxter touched her shoulder lightly. ‘I do understand, you know. All of it. Better than you might think. I’ve children of my own and we’ve just found out my eldest daughter is pregnant.’ He paused slightly before adding in a whisper, ‘And she’s not married either.’

  ‘Then you have my sympathy, Sergeant. It’s not easy and I have to admit that, when I first knew about Peggy, I threatened to throw her out. If I had, they’d all have gone. But when the little chap was born, well, we all fell for him – hook, line and sinker. They bring their love with them, Sergeant Baxter. You’ll see.’

  ‘Aye well, mebbe you’re right, Mrs Booth. The missus is already coming to terms with it, but it’s taking me a bit longer.’

  ‘Minute you clap eyes on the little mite, you’ll be bowled over. I guarantee it. If a hard-bitten old cynic like me can become putty in our little man’s hands, then you’ve no chance, I promise you.’