Lynda La Plante - The Legacy

Evelyne ran down the stairs, screaming at the top of her voice. ‘Freedom, Edward, what’s going on?’

‘ Freedom stood with his back against the door and shouted for her to stay out of it. She tried to push the door open, but he slammed it shut. Rex ran to Freedom, whimpering, but he kicked out at the dog.

‘That’s right, kick the dog, he can’t kick you back, can he? I can and I will. What you ever done for us, you with your big mouth an’ even bigger fists? Ma’s provided for this family, not you, it’s never been you. Go back to prison an’ leave us alone!’

Freedom clenched his fists, fighting for self-control, trying to keep his blind fury in check. Suddenly he was pushed forward as Alex forced his way into the kitchen. He grabbed Freedom’s arm. ‘Dad, Dad, don’t, he doesn’t mean it! Tell him you didn’t mean it, Eddie, please, Dad, don’t!’

‘I meant every word, we were better off when he was in jail, at least Ma didn’t have an extra mouth to feed.’

Evelyne came in and moved right between Edward and Freedom. ‘I’ll talk to him, just don’t fight, let me talk to him.’

Freedom pushed her aside. ‘No, Evie, not this time, you’ve always protected them, protected him. He’s going to have to learn.’ Freedom’s voice was icy calm. He moved closer and closer to Edward. ‘You’re going down to that recruiting office right now, if I have to drag you there meself

Edward spat at him and ran round the room, ducking behind Evelyne. She put her arms out, pleading, ‘Don’t, Freedom, ah, don’t, don’t do something you’ll be sorry for, please, please, don’t.’

The belt slithered from Freedom’s trousers and he wound it around his hand. Edward shrieked, suddenly afraid. ‘I’m going to university, tell him Ma, tell him.’

‘You’re going to work, lad, we can’t afford no university, not with the house burnt down round our ears. You are gonna earn your keep like every other lad around here.’

Evelyne made a grab for Freedom, shouting, ‘That’s for me to say, Freedom, it’s my savings, mine!’

Deflated, Freedom turned a beseeching look on her. She ran out of the house, shouting for help. Heart-broken, Freedom watched her go. Once again she had taken her son’s side.

Edward took that moment to open the kitchen drawer and take out the carving knife. ‘Satisfied, are you? You bloody satisfied, you bastard?’ He was hysterical, shaking, holding the knife like a dagger. Alex was the one to move towards his brother to try and take the knife, but Rex ran to him and he tripped over the dog, sprawled on to the floor. Freedom’s face terrified Edward, the mask in place, no expression, the eyes black … He kept moving, coming closer arid closer, unafraid, menacing, daring Edward to use the knife.

Evelyne was out in the street. Police and firemen were everywhere, clearing the debris. She screamed. ‘Dear God, stop them, someone stop them!’

Freedom reached out to grip his son by the hair, and Edward brought the knife down in one single, stabbing thrust. Freedom remained standing. He looked into his son’s face, his mask dropped, and his eyes full of anguish. Edward stepped back, stared first at his empty hand, then back at his father. Freedom made no attempt to remove the knife. He lifted his arms as if to embrace his son, then he fell forward, fell on to the knife, pushing it further into his heart.

There was a terrible silence in the room. No one moved. The colour drained from Edward’s face and he swayed. Alex still held Rex’s collar as the dog howled, trying to get to Freedom. Two policemen rushed in kicking the door wide open, and took the situation in immediately. Rex barked furiously, his claws scrabbling on the lino to get to Freedom, Edward stood stupified,

staring at his father. One of the policemen knelt down, slowly turned the body over. The blood had already formed a thick, dark pool, the knife in Freedom’s heart right up to the hilt.

‘Oh, Jesus God … right, you two lads, up against the wall, the pair of you, against the wall, now.’

Like terrified children, Edward and Alex stood with their backs against the wall. They watched in horror as their mother looked from the open kitchen door at the body. Her legs were shaking, the tremor running right through her … she pushed the policeman’s helping hand away, stumbled to kneel beside Freedom. She cradled him to her, the blood oozing over her chest as she rocked him in her arms. She made not a sound. They could see the blood spreading over her pinafore, his blood, blood to blood, heart to heart. Without looking at his brother, Alex put out his hand, and they grasped each other tight, but made no move towards their mother.

The drone of fighter planes coming closer made one of the policemen swear out loud, ‘Dear God, the bastards are coming again, and in broad daylight.’

The air-raid warning sounded for everyone to take cover. Edward’s black eyes clung to his mother, never leaving her face as he watched her cradle the body. He had never seen such raw agony. His body felt chilled, icy, as if his own life were draining steadily away. The grasp of his brother’s hand gave him assurance, but the voices of the police became distorted, unreal. ‘There’s an ambulance outside, we’ll get him outside later, best get to the shelter. There’s nothing we can do here until after the bombing. You two lads come with us, come on, move it.’

Alex and Edward were herded roughly out of the door by one of the policemen, and the other bent down to Evelyne. ‘Come on, come on Missus, the bombs’ll be dropping any minute. There’s nothing you can do for him now …’

Evelyne looked up and told him quietly that there was no need for the ambulance, he was dead … ‘Leave me, please, leave me with him, please.’

The policeman realized it was pointless to argue. She was so calm, like ice, and he didn’t want to waste any more time. The unearthly wail of the sirens continued, and he followed the others out. As he hurried to the shelter, he looked up. Broad daylight, the bastards had the audacity to come in broad daylight, like big, black birds in the sky.

The deadly bombs fell all around number twelve, but Evelyne couldn’t hear them. She sat on the floor cradling Freedom’s body in her arms, unable to cry. Her body felt wounded as if the blood were slowly dripping from her. Rex whimpered, crawling on his belly to lie beside her, licking the outstretched, lifeless hand.

Under the watchful eyes of the policemen, the brothers huddled in the shelter. Alex held Edward in his arms, and whispered to him, softly so the police couldn’t hear. ‘Edward? Listen to me, I’ll say that I did it. No one saw, no one will know, can you hear me?’

Holding his brother tight, needing his warmth, Edward listened.

‘I’m two years younger, they can’t do nothin’ to me, I’m a juvenile, they’ll not send me to jail. You can go to Cambridge, you can still go.’

Edward shuddered and clung even closer, feeling the softness of his brother’s skin. He kissed Alex’s neck.

‘See, it’s what Ma wants, what she’s dreamed of, so I’ll do it, I’ll say it was me that knifed him.’

Edward whispered close to Alex’s ear. ‘I didn’t mean it, you know that, I didn’t mean to do it… I’ll make it up to you, I will, I give you my word I’ll make it up to you.’

Alex seemed satisfied, patting his brother as if he were the younger of the two. Edward gave him a small thankful smile. ‘You won’t go back on your word, will you? I mean, you won’t ever tell anyone, will you?’

Alex blinked back his tears. ‘No, Eddie, I’ll never tell no one else, not even Ma if you don’t want me to.’

Edward gave him a hug, then peeked out of the shelter, said he thought the bombing was almost over. Alex looked at Edward, who no longer seemed to be distressed, no longer clung to him. Alex was shocked, confused, but it was too late, he had given his word.