The Mersey Daughter (Empire Street #3)(95)

‘Come now, Mrs Kennedy,’ said one of the policemen. ‘Your nursing skills won’t be any use here. They’re beyond your help.’

Rita gulped, but even though she could see what he said was probably true, she couldn’t quite believe it. Wordlessly she reached for Winnie’s wrist, brushing the coating of dust from her dry skin. There was no pulse. Rita shut her eyes, remembering what her motherin-law had been like – carping, manipulative, overly proud. Yet she had also worked hard for years in the shop, and had a good business brain, until the combination of Charlie’s desertion and Ruby’s arrival had taken away her standing. She’d been largely the architect of her own downfall, but without her there would have been no Megan. Rita’s heart contracted in sorrow for the old woman. Nobody deserved to die like this.

As for Charlie, she was filled with a turbulent mixture of contradictory feelings: pity for the needless waste of a life, sadness that he hadn’t realised how lucky he had been, but also relief that he would no longer be able to hurt her or the children. Michael would be safe. He and Megan need never know about the threats and the danger they were in. She would tell them Charlie and their grandmother had died in an accident, but not why they came to be in that house in the first place. Maybe when the children were older she would have to explain, but for now she would spare them all but the most basic details.

Poor Charlie. Now he’d never have the privilege of seeing the children grow up into the fine people they would undoubtedly be. Rita knew they were her reason for living and yet Charlie had turned his back on them, had failed to recognise the glorious potential of his own little daughter. He’d done many mean, wicked, selfish things, but to ignore the promise of his own flesh and blood – that was beyond her comprehension. The sad thing was, neither child was likely to miss him. Charlie had forfeited the right to their love when he’d walked out on Rita, and now their lives would continue much the same as before.

‘Come away, Mrs Kennedy.’ The policeman was insistent now. ‘This house clearly isn’t safe. You can do no more for your husband and his mother, you’ve seen that for yourself. We need to get you seen to. You’ve got a nasty wound there by the looks of it.’

As he escorted her out through the damaged doorway, Rita realised her leg was still bleeding copiously and that it hurt a lot. Now the urgency of the situation had receded, the pain hit her like a wave, and she sank to the pavement as soon as she was outside. She knew the wound needed to be cleaned up at the very least, and maybe she’d have to have stitches as well, but the only person she could think of who could help was Sarah, and she’d be at work. Gritting her teeth against the agony, she looked around as the small crowd dispersed. None of her family was there. Her father would be at work, Dolly and Violet were most likely down at the victory garden. She couldn’t exactly ask Ruby for help – the young woman would still be marooned upstairs over the shop, hampered by having to rely on crutches. Poor Ruby – she’d lost her mother without really ever having had her. She was more alone than ever now.

Rita screwed her eyes against the bright daylight, wondering if the pain was making her see things, or if by some huge coincidence there was another person on crutches. For coming down the short length of Empire Street towards her was a young woman with blonde hair, swinging herself unsteadily along but managing to cover the distance. Yet how could this be Ruby? Yesterday she’d hardly been able to get to the bathroom.

‘Rita! Are you hurt?’ There was no mistake, it was Ruby, and now she was trying to bend down to see how Rita was.

‘Ruby! What are you doing out?’ Rita’s first thought was concern for her friend. ‘Oh Ruby, the most dreadful thing has happened …’

‘Did the military police come?’ Ruby asked. ‘I told them when they should be there. I went all the way to the ARP station and told them to pass on the message. Is that why they are outside Mrs Ashby’s house?’

‘Oh Ruby, you’ve been really brave and clever,’ sighed Rita. ‘I need help, but if you could ask one of them to get me to the shop then you could fetch me the first-aid box and I can look after my leg. Then I’ll tell you what happened.’

Ruby looked along the street. ‘You need somebody to lift you.’

‘Well, there isn’t anyone, so we’ll have to make do as best we can,’ said Rita, her determination returning.

‘Yes there is,’ said Ruby, a big smile spreading across her face. ‘I told him to come too. Look, here he is.’

For the second time, Rita thought she must be seeing things as a beloved and familiar figure came towards her along the street, breaking into a run as he realised she was injured. ‘Jack!’ she cried, unable to believe her eyes. ‘Jack – is that really you?’

Jack took in the scene with one glance and didn’t bother to reply. Instead he scooped her into his arms and lifted her as easily as if she were a child, hurrying to carry her to safety. Once in the kitchen behind the shop, he set her gently down. ‘Oh Rita. I came as soon as I could. I got leave after all, the plans were changed at the last minute so I couldn’t send word. Then as I was coming along the dock road I saw Ruby, and she’s told me the strangest things have been going on. But never mind that now. Let’s take a look to see how badly you’re hurt and worry about everything else later.’