Josephine Cox - The Loner

‘Davie would never do that!’ Judy sprang immediately to his defence. ‘Davie thinks the world of him. It was his grandad who took them all in when they lost their home and everything.’

‘The lass is right,’ Tom agreed. ‘Young Davie is not the sort to lay the blame where it doesn’t belong. The truth is, Rita brought it all on herself, God help her.’

At that point, Beth served the meal and they sat at the table, each thinking of Davie and praying that he would be all right, out there, God knows where, grieving for his mammy and with no one to comfort him.

After a few mouthfuls of the pie, Tom pushed back his plate. ‘Sorry, love, I haven’t the stomach for it,’ he told his wife. ‘If we’re going to search for the lad, we’d best get off now. But first we’ll stop off at Derwent Street – check on Joe, and see if the boy has turned up there, before we go off on a wild-goose chase round the woods.’

Beth and Judy readily agreed. They put on their coats and stout shoes and waited at the door while Tom got the Morris Minor out of the barn. ‘I didn’t think it would start,’ he said as they climbed in. ‘I can’t recall the last time I had this motor-car on the road.’

‘Hmh!’ Beth gave him a wry glance. ‘I’m not surprised, because whenever you take me and Judy out, it’s always on the blessed cart! I’m surprised the motor-car hasn’t seized up altogether,’ she grumbled. ‘Then we’d have turned up at Joseph’s house in that smelly old cart. And what would folks think, eh?’

Going down the lane at a steady pace, with the engine spitting and complaining, they sat quiet for a while, each engrossed in their own thoughts, thinking of Rita and the way things had turned out. Mostly their thoughts were for young Davie, because in truth he was the one who had suffered most in this tragedy.

Judy was certain that Davie would not hold his grandfather responsible for his mammy’s death. For one agonising moment, she put herself in Davie’s shoes. He had loved his grandfather; and it must have come as a shock when Joseph turned against him. She also knew that, although he would forgive him, he would never be enticed back, even if his grandfather changed his mind. If Davie was anything at all, he was proud, and fiercely independent.

When they turned the corner into Derwent Street, they were not surprised to see the neighbours emerging from Joseph’s house. ‘The news has spread,’ Tom declared respectfully. ‘I expect he’s had folks in and out since the police came to see him.’

As they got out of the car, one or two of the neighbours nodded to them, and they nodded back. They didn’t speak. What was there to say?

‘He’ll need all the support he can get,’ Beth replied. ‘Rita’s reputation was known throughout Blackburn. She lost respect and many friends through her degrading antics. Time and again, she brought trouble to the door; first to poor Don, and then to her own father, even though he had been so good to her.’

‘You’re right, lass,’ Tom remarked under his breath. ‘She managed to heap shame on the only three people who truly loved her.’

‘Hmh! There’ll be them as say she deserved what she got.’ Beth gave a long, shivering sigh. ‘All the same, I can’t help but feel saddened by what’s happened to her, so young an’ all.’

‘I know what you’re saying, lass.’ Tom felt the same. ‘But now she’s gone, it’s the old man we have to concern ourselves with, and the boy especially. Folks round here will no doubt keep an eye on Joseph but the boy has no one. He’s out there somewhere, God knows where, without a friend to talk to, and no roof over his head.’ He glanced sideways, seeking reassurance from this wise woman of his. ‘It’s a bad thing, don’t you think, lass?’

‘It is,’ Beth concurred. ‘But you did the best you could, and a body can do no more.’ She touched him softly on the arm. ‘Don’t fret yourself, Tom. You can’t be responsible for what’s happened; none of us can. All we can do is hope the boy is safe…wherever he might be.’

‘We have to find him.’ Judy was determined. ‘If he’s not here, we have to search and search, and not give up until we can take him home with us.’ She had visions of Davie curled up somewhere, alone and shivering, and frightened. She longed to be with him, to give him consolation. Like her daddy had said just now, it was a ‘bad thing’.

They found the old man seated in the parlour, his head bent low to his knees and his hands clasped over his head, as though trying to fend off some vicious attacker. Rocking backwards and forwards, he didn’t even hear them come in. ‘Joseph?’ Tom laid his hand on the man’s shoulder. ‘It’s me, Tom, and my family. We’ve come to see how you are.’

It was a moment before Joseph looked up. They had been prepared for him to be deeply shocked by the news of what had happened to his daughter and grandson, but even so, they were taken aback by the stricken look in his eyes. His face was marked with angry red streaks where he’d scraped his fingernails down his cheeks, and the skin hung in curious folds over his features, as though the substance had been sucked away from underneath. ‘Oh, Tom.’ He began rocking again. ‘What in God’s name have I done? Rita, my own flesh and blood. I sent her away, thinking she might get herself in order and come back to live a decent life, and now she can’t ever comeback.’

Plump teardrops pushed over his eyelids and ran down his face. ‘My daughter was a wilful woman, ran right off the rails at times, but she didn’t deserve to be struck down. Dear God, she had so much to live for, so much to makeup!’ He rolled his eyes to heaven. ‘I turned her out on the streets…her and the boy with her. May God forgive me. I should lie in hell for what I did!’

When he began sobbing, Beth whispered to Judy to help her in the kitchen. ‘Stay with him,’ she told Tom, ‘while me and Judy see if we can’t make us all a cup of tea.’ That was typical of Beth. A cup of tea would put so many things right. But not this time, she thought. Not this time.

‘Will Joseph be all right?’ Never having witnessed such grief, the young girl was feeling scared.

Beth held her for a moment, taking comfort from the girl’s warm body against her own. ‘It’ll be terrible hard for him,’ she said emotionally, ‘but he’s got friends. And maybe when Davie’s come to terms with what’s happened, he might be of a mind to make it up with his grandad, and find his way home.’

‘No, Mam. Davie will never come back here, not now.’ Judy Makepeace was unsure about a lot of things in her young life, but of this she was 100 per cent certain. Wherever Davie went, it would be far away from the house in Derwent Street.

WHILE HIS WOMENFOLK busied themselves in the kitchen, Tom tried to get the grieving man to say something, but Joseph had fallen into such a deep silence, he seemed unaware that any-one else was therewith him.

When, a few moments later, Beth and her daughter returned with a pot of piping hot tea, Tom revealed his concerns. ‘I don’t know what else to do,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I’ve tried everything to coax him into talking, but all he does is rock backwards and forwards, his eyes fixed in a stare to the floor. It’s like he doesn’t even know I’m here.’

As was her way, Beth took matters into her own hands. Setting the tray down on the table, she knelt in front of the old man. ‘Joseph?’ Her voice was silky soft. ‘Joseph, it’s Beth…look at me, dear.’

When he seemed not to have heard, but instead kept rocking back and forth, back and forth, faster and faster, she raised her hands to his face and made him be still. ‘JOSEPH! It’s me, Beth. I’ve made you a hot drink. I want you to take it, and then we’ll sit and talk, you, me and Tom. Will you do that for me?’