The Loner. Josephine Cox
‘Why doesn’t he come home, Tom? He needs me…we need each other. Where in God’s name is he? What’s going to become of him?’
‘I don’t know,’ Tom answered truthfully. ‘Happen he’ll think things over, and when he’s come to terms with what happened out there in the woods, he’ll turn his mind to you, and he’ll know you didn’t mean it when you spoke harshly to him.’
Unconvinced, Joseph’s next question was directed at Judy. ‘I reckon you know him better than any of us, lass. Will he come home, d’you think? When he’s cried himself out, will he make his way back to his old grandad? What d’you reckon, pet?’
The girl said cautiously, ‘Maybe.’ Davie loved his grandad, she knew that for sure. But what she didn’t know was how deeply he had been affected by what had happened to his mammy. And for his grandad to turn against him was unthinkable. Davie would be taking it hard, she knew that well enough, but she revealed nothing of her thoughts. What would be the point? She’d only upset the old chap further.
‘It’s a lot for the lad to deal with.’ Joseph was thinking aloud now. ‘First his mammy comes home drunker than I’ve ever seen her, then there’s this terrible fight and his daddy walks out, and as for me…’ He took another swig of his tea. ‘I threw him and his mammy out onto the streets. And that was after I had damn near pushed her down the stairs. She must have hurt herself badly but she didn’t say owt, you see? Oh, my Rita. My stubborn little girl!’ He sobbed anew. ‘What kind of monster am I?’ He took another swig. ‘The lad saw his mammy die out there in the woods. God Almighty! I wouldn’t blame him if he never wanted to set eyes on me again.’
For a split second there was an uncomfortable silence, before Judy flung her arms round the old man’s neck, saying passionately, ‘He loves you! Davie would never think bad of you – never!’
Startled by her sudden show of affection, the old man looked up to see her crying. ‘Oh, lass,’ he said huskily. ‘It’s no wonder our Davie took you for a friend. You’re a caring, kind young thing, and if you say he’ll forgive me, then I’ll take your word for it.’ If only he could turn back time. If only…‘I’m hoping our Davie won’t forsake me, any more than I could forsake him,’ he wept, ‘and I hope you’re right, bonnie lass, when you say he’ll come home. But I was harsh on him…on both of ’em. I turned my back on the lad when he needed me most. Happen he’ll never forget that. Happen he’ll never forgive me for it neither.’
Taking another swig of his tea, and for the first time, Joseph told them about his late wife, Marie. ‘My wife was a real beauty, just like Rita,’ he said fondly. ‘Unfortunately, she started the boozing soon after having Rita. An’ then our second child – baby Matty, we called him – died in his sleep one night, and there was no consolin’ her. Poor little Matty – an’ now Rita, too. Both me childer dead an’ gone.’ He gave a long, shuddering sigh. ‘At first I thought I could help my Marie to be rid of the booze and the men, and live a decent life with me and with our beautiful daughter Rita. But for all my efforts, it didn’t happen. Lord knows how hard I tried to change her. Many a man would have walked out on her, but I couldn’t do it. I loved her, y’see, and when she was sober she had a mischievous and lovable nature, just like Rita.’
As the Makepeace family listened respectfully, Joseph paused. The bad memories had, by now, brought a scowl to his face. ‘Oh, but when she’d been at the booze, by God, Marie was the devil incarnate.’
He explained how Rita seemed, in time, to have naturally followed in her mother’s footsteps. ‘I can’t blame the lass for what she became,’ he said regretfully. ‘She grew up adoring her mammy, living in her shadow, seeing her kind and loving one minute, and in the next how violent and cruel she was.’
He took a moment to remember. ‘I should have left her then,’ he said gruffly, ‘but I loved her too much. I kept on hoping she’d come to her senses for the child’s sake, but she never did. And when the TB took her off when she was still in her prime, it seemed like my Rita took on her mother’s character…up and happy one minute, then down and shameless the next.’
He spoke of his son-in-law. ‘She were just a kid when she met Don, and oh, I was that pleased for her. I thought, here’s a good man, hardworking and decent. They will be happy together, not like Marie and me. Aye, he loved her as much as any man can love a woman, but when she went wrong, he couldn’t change her, any more than I could change her mammy.’
He hunched his shoulders. ‘I don’t blame him for walking out, and nor should anyone else. If I’d walked out, all them years back, I might have saved Rita from copying her mammy’s ways. In truth, Rita became worse than my Marie ever was. She went with men openly. She even did her dirty work with blokes who worked alongside Don at the factory.’ Growing emotional, he took a moment to compose himself. ‘There were snide remarks and cruel taunts, and my son-in-law would retaliate, like any other normal man would. But then there’d be fights, and he’d lose his job again and there would be no money coming in.
‘They say you shouldn’t speak ill of the…’ Unable to say the word, he closed his eyes, then quickly opened them again, and now his voice was stronger. ‘It pains me to say it, especially now she’s gone… but my daughter was a slut of the worst kind. There was such badness in her – almost as though her mammy had passed it on with a vengeance. And good man that he was, Don stuck with her, till his patience was tried too far. I knew it had to happen, and somehow I reckon I also knew that one day it would end in tragedy. She was like a runaway train, my Rita, heading straight towards a cliff-edge.’
‘Have you any idea where Don was headed?’ Tom wondered if the man had been informed of the situation – his wife dead, and his son missing.
‘No idea at all.’ Joseph had been thinking along the same lines. ‘When he left here, it was on the spur of the minute. He was in such a state, I don’t reckon he knew where he was headed himself. Although, he did give a slip of paper to young Davie, with someone’s name on it. The boy must have gone off with it.’
‘Well, Don will have to be told, won’t he?’ Tom queried. ‘He’ll need to know what’s happened. His wife is beyond his help now, but the boy needs his father.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’ Sad at heart and not knowing which way to turn, Joseph revealed, ‘I told the police the whole story, from beginning to end, and they promised to do what they could to find him.’
‘But they’re not really duty bound to do so, are they?’ Beth intervened.
Joseph agreed. ‘Happen they’ve done their duty in telling me about the accident, and mebbe it’s up to me to do the rest.’
‘But what about Davie?’ Judy persisted. ‘The police will have to find him, won’t they?’
‘I hope so, lass. After all, he’s only just coming up to fourteen. I told them how much he thought of his mammy and how badly this whole business would have affected him. Let’s hope they find him, eh? Aye, let’s hope they do. As for him going after his dad, he doesn’t have a penny piece on him, and the mood our Don was in when he left, it wouldn’t surprise me if he hasn’t already left the country – jumped on a ship at the docks mebbe, and gone to sea. They can always use a good carpenter on board ship.’
Tom was interested. ‘Was that what he hankered after?’ he asked. ‘Making for foreign parts?’
‘Yes. Right from when he went abroad with the Army he had an appetite to see the world. Said as how he’d like to join that scheme to emigrate to Australia…with all those wide open spaces where a man could breathe. Then again, he might have gone back to Ireland. I understand he has an old aunt there, although, as I recall, he hasn’t seen her in years.’
He yawned, and said sleepily, ‘Aye, happen that’s where he’ll be headed…Australia, or Ireland. One or the other, I’ll be window, she stared out into the darkness, but there was nothing to be seen, except a lone cat prowling the area for a mate.
Turning away, she crossed the room, stumbled into bed and