Josephine Cox - Songbird

Ellen paused, regarding Maddy with respect. “Shall I tell you something?”

Curious, the other girl nodded.

“Out of the two of us, you are by far the bravest.”

“No.” Maddy smiled. “I don’t think so.”

“I mean it,” Ellen said. “I made a bad choice that could have had dire consequences. But you stepped forward and made me see what Steve was really like.” Her affection for Maddy shone in her eyes. “I’ve always missed never having a sister I could talk to, but it looks like I might have found one.”

“And me.” Maddy had no doubts. Almost from the first, she had seen Ellen as being much like herself, and the more they got to know each other, the closer they grew. Maddy believed that their friendship could only get stronger with the coming years. “We’ll look after each other, you and me,” she told Ellen. “We have so far, haven’t we?”

Chuckling, Ellen gave Maddy a playful shove. “Hey! We could be like the Beverley Sisters – you know that song they sing, about being sisters!”

Maddy laughed, and they sang along together, harmonizing really nicely. “We could band together and call ourselves The Songbirds,” she joked. “I think we sound a bit like Dusty Springfield and Debbie Harry rolled into one.”

“Not half!” Ellen quipped. “We’d be up in the Top Ten before you could say Bay City Rollers!” Then she went on more seriously, “I know you need to find out how Alice is, and I’ve been thinking about that. I may have found a way that will keep you out of danger. First though, we should get some breakfast.”

She gave a kind of snort. “Mind you, having said that, I reckon all I can rustle up is toast and marmalade.”

“That sounds great.” Maddy’s hungry tummy was playing a tune. Looking wild and wanton with her hair massed about her face and her eyes raw and bleary, she asked, “Shall I get washed and tidied up first?”

Ellen nodded. “Good idea. Now don’t hog the bathroom,” she warned lightheartedly. “You’re not the only one who looks like something the cat brought in.”

“Oh, thanks,” Maddy bridled. She thought it wonderful, how she and Ellen had quickly formed such a warm and natural friendship.

In the tiny, well-kept bathroom on the first floor, Maddy squeezed the tiniest measure out of Ellen’s tube of Fresh-mint toothpaste and, wetting her finger under the tap, scrubbed away at her teeth until they felt clean.

She twice rinsed out her mouth, then washed her face with warm soap and water. “My God!” Staring into the mirror, she could hardly believe it was herself looking back. Her hair was a tangled mess, her eyes swollen and sore-looking. If only she had her comb and makeup with her.

When she emerged, wrapped in her towel and feeling much fresher, Ellen lent her a hairbrush and chucked a big bag of cosmetics at her, saying, “Here, help yourself. I’ve put some clothes on your bed – choose what you want.”

Then she went back downstairs. “The kettle’s on,” she called back. “And the bread’s already sliced for toasting. I’ll wait till you’re ready before putting it on.”

Later, over tea and toast, the two young women discussed the aftermath of the previous evening. “Do you think the police will be looking for us by now?” Maddy wondered. Dressed in a pair of Ellen’s jeans and a skinny-rib sweater, with her long hair combed back into a high ponytail and the makeup concealing her battered face, she looked about the same age as her newfound friend.

Ellen didn’t know the answer to that. “I hope they’re not,” she replied. “They will have already worked out that Steve and my boss Den Carter were arch rivals in the club business. Plus Steve owed him money and then had the front to trick me away from him. It was a mad thing to do. Den would never have let him get away with it. Anyway, the cops will have questioned every member of staff by now – for witnesses and all that. So I expect they already know about me and you.”

Maddy agreed, but, “As far as anyone knew, we weren’t even there in the alley when it happened. Besides, there were more than enough witnesses who saw everything – the guests who ran out to see what was going on, and the staff from our club and other businesses down the alley. They couldn’t see me, but I could see them. So, if there were all those witnesses, why would they need to bother about us?”

“They may not,” Ellen said, “but I wouldn’t count on it. Think about it, Maddy. Steve Drayton murdered two people and badly wounded another. It’s major stuff. It won’t matter that they already have him in custody. They’ll want to make the case absolutely watertight. They’ll question everybody. To be on the safe side, we’d best make tracks, and the sooner the better! The police will find this address in Den’s staff records. And if Drayton is hellbent on putting out a contract on you, that’s all the more reason for keeping our heads down.”

Maddy told her she was going nowhere, until she knew that Alice was safe.

Ellen conveyed her plan. “Look, I did a lot of thinking last night, and I may have come up with something. You see, I know someone who might be able to help. Her name is Connie; she’s been kind to me in the past, and she knows how to keep her mouth shut when needs be. She was a cleaner at Carter’s club when I first went there, but he sacked her after accusing her of being a thief. I stood up for her, and got a black eye for my pains, but I also bunged her a few quid to keep her going until she found a new job. We’ve kept in touch, Connie and me, and guess what? She’s only working as a ward cleaner at the hospital, so she might be able to find out what’s happening with Alice.”

“Do you think there will be police at the hospital?”

“You can bet on it! But it’s far easier for a cleaner to get places where we can’t. Besides, there’ll be all kinds of gossip going on amongst the nurses, and though I say it myself, Connie was always a bit of a Nosy Parker.”

Maddy thought it was a good plan and anyway, what alternative did they have? “Great! Alice’s surname is Mulligan, by the way. So, when can you get in touch with this Connie?”

“Right now.” Glancing up at the clock. Ellen saw that it was not yet eight-thirty. “Depends which shift she’s on, but I should be able to get hold of her.”

While she rummaged for the phone number she murmured, “Connie’s a good sort. We can trust her, and I’ll make sure she gets a drink out of this. Oh, here it is!”

She dialed and waited, for what seemed an age. “I hope we haven’t missed her,” she was saying, when suddenly she cried out, “Connie? It’s me, Ellen. Yes, fine thank you, and how are you?” There was a moment while Connie answered, then, “So, you’re still working at University College Hospital, are you?”

Another pause, then, “Connie, I wonder if you could do me a huge favor – it’s really important. What? No, I haven’t seen the news, but I already knew about the shooting. Yes, I know that Den is dead – can’t say I will shed any tears for him. But that’s a part of the reason I’m calling you now.”

There was a brief exchange, before Ellen fully explained that Alice Mulligan, the injured woman, was a friend of a friend, who needed to know what was happening with her.

Another short pause while she listened to what the other woman had to say, then: “Yes, I fully expected the police might be there, that’s why I’m asking this favor. No, Connie, I’m not involved – well, not in the way you might think. Let’s just say, I’ve got nothing to hide.”

She cut short the conversation. “Listen, Connie, there isn’t much time. I’m about to tell you something that I know you won’t ever repeat to a living soul.”