Kitty Neale - Nobody’s Girl

‘We only got peanuts for those fags and I need more dosh. Dick Smedley said this job would be a doddle. Come on, it won’t hurt to take a look.’

In half an hour they were sitting outside the storage depot. It was in total darkness and there was little to be seen, but even so, Nobby peered through the windscreen. ‘Dick’s right, it looks a piece of cake. It’s still in Vince’s manor so we’ll have to clear it with him, but as long as we offer him the gear, I reckon he’ll be OK.’

‘What makes Dick so sure they store booze?’

‘’Cos he went there pretending to apply for a job.’

‘What about the alarm system?’

‘According to Dick it’ll be easy to nobble.’

‘Huh, and he’s an expert, is he?’ Kevin’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

‘What’s the matter? Turning chicken, are you?’

‘You know me better than that. Anyway, it’d be a waste of time using my car. We’d only get a few cases in the boot.’

‘Like I said, you should’ve got a van, you daft sod. Still, it shouldn’t be a problem. We can nick a van and dump it afterwards.’

Kevin chewed his bottom lip. Up to now, Nobby and Dick had only attempted petty thieving, low risk, but small returns. Now they were looking for bigger jobs, bringing him on board as the driver. There was no doubt this one could make them a lot of money, and at that thought he grinned. ‘All right. I’m in.’

‘Good boy. Right, let’s get back to Battersea.’

Kevin drove home, dropped Nobby off outside his house, and then parked at the back of the café.

His thoughts turned to Pearl Button again, and he scowled. On occasions, until they could shift it, they stored a bit of stolen gear in the back room of Nobby’s empty shop. What if Pearl got nosy again? What if she found it? And if she did, would she link it to him? He was frowning as he quietly went up to the flat, holding his breath as he tiptoed past his mother’s room. Maybe he should have a quiet word in Pearl’s ear. The girl needed a hint that if she was going to live around here, no matter what she saw, or heard, if she wanted to stay in one piece the best policy was to keep her lips zipped.

Pricilla Unsworth sat behind her desk at the orphanage, relieved that she had finally sorted the records in preparation for her retirement. They were all in order, but one remained, one that had been carefully guarded from prying eyes. It was Pearl Button’s, the child who had provided her nest egg, and taking out all but the barest details, she was going to destroy it, leaving no trace behind.

When she’d been approached all those years ago, she’d agreed to the ruse, and made sure that she was the one to find the new-born baby on the steps.

Everything had been done by letter; unsigned, with a box number as the return address. With so much to gain, Pricilla had diligently followed the instructions. The person who’d abandoned Pearl wanted no risks, and certainly no questions asked. To that end he, or she, had insisted that Pearl Button was never fostered out, or put up for adoption. Pricilla had thought this over-cautious in the extreme, but financially the arrangement suited her well. For each year that Pearl Button remained in the orphanage, Pricilla had been paid, the money building up to a nice little nest egg.

She picked up the thin file. No doubt the child had been born out of wedlock, perhaps another victim of a wartime romance, but it was almost as if this person wanted to punish the baby along with the mother. Many times she had wondered who she’d dealt with, and had decided it was a man. Of course she couldn’t be certain, but surely only a man could act so callously.

There had been just one sticky moment that occurred during Pearl’s last year, but thankfully it had passed. Pricilla had been surprised when she’d received a letter from a woman enquiring about an abandoned baby, giving only the date of birth. When Pricilla realised it was Pearl’s, her heart had missed a beat. She’d replied, denying any knowledge of the child, and to be on the safe side had arranged for Pearl to leave the orphanage earlier than anticipated. Thankfully that there had been no further enquiries.

It was over now, the girl no longer under her care. Pearl Button had left the orphanage, she had been found employment, a place in a hostel, but that was as far as Pricilla’s authority went. She had no idea where the girl was now, and didn’t care. It was done, finished with, and Pricilla smiled. The money she’d received for Pearl Button had provided a decent retirement fund, and now a nice little cottage in the country beckoned.

About to tear the letter to pieces, she was annoyed to hear a knock on the door. ‘Yes, what is it?’

The art teacher came into the office, her eyes puzzled as she gazed at Pricilla’s poised fingers. Quickly stuffing the letter back in the file, she saw Emily Rosen placing an envelope on her desk.

‘What’s that?’

‘I’ve come to tender my resignation.’

‘Really?’ Pricilla said. ‘And may I ask why?’

‘There is no longer any reason for me to stay.’

Pricilla shook her head impatiently. The woman wasn’t making any sense, but what did it matter? She was leaving too and wouldn’t have the task of finding a replacement. In truth, she had never liked the woman, finding her too inquisitive about the children, asking to see records that were none of her business. There was another knock on her door, and heaving a sigh of exasperation she called, ‘Come in.’

‘Oh, Miss Unsworth, can you come quickly?’ the harassed teacher begged. ‘A serious fight has broken out in the playground and I can’t break it up.’

Pricilla tutted with impatience. ‘I can’t deal with it now.’

‘But, Miss Unsworth, it’s the older girls and I can’t get through them to the poor child they’re picking on. She’s on the ground and looks to be in a dreadful state.’

Pricilla rose hastily to her feet. ‘I’ll have to sort this out,’ she told Miss Rosen.

The woman nodded, saying quietly, ‘Very well.’

Pricilla hurried from her office, but had she looked back, she would have seen the art teacher surveying the file she’d mistakenly left on her desk. Emily Rosen reached to pick it up, flicking it open. As she scanned the contents, a gasp escaped her lips. Her face lit up with joy and for a moment she hugged the file to her chest. Then, carefully replacing it in the exact position she had found it, Emily Rosen scurried out.

In Battersea, Pearl was looking at her sketches. Of all of them, the drawing of Derek stood out as best. His kind eyes looked incongruous against his craggy features, but Pearl thought she had captured the essence of the man. She picked up the sketch of Nora and frowned. She didn’t see much of the cleaner, and the sketch was one she wasn’t happy with. Nora had a round face that was somehow featureless, making it difficult to capture on paper. There was something missing, and as she tried to picture the woman in her mind, she realised it was Nora’s childlike innocence. Placing Nora’s picture to one side, Pearl lifted one of her favourites, a sketch of Frank Hanwell’s son.

She had seen the lad a couple of times hanging around his dad’s stall and was taken by the eight-year-old’s features. He had dark, unruly hair, a tiny nose sprinkled with freckles, but it was his cheeky, gap-toothed smile that Pearl had wanted to capture. She gazed critically at the sketch. It wasn’t perfect, and without paint she had been unable to capture the boy’s wonderful emerald-green eyes.

Placing the drawing back inside the folder, her thoughts returned to Derek Lewis. He’d looked disappointed when she told him they could only be friends, but had still invited her to meet his gran. Thinking of that, her eyes widened. He’d be here soon and she wasn’t ready!