Bia's War Read online

  “‘It is a good day, Mrs Drinkwater,’ he answered. ‘I’ve been waiting for just such a good day to come along for quite some time and now it’s happened. You and me, here together and alone. I have been anticipating this since I bought the warehouse from old Sanderson. You’ve kept me waiting a long time, Mrs Drinkwater.’

  “I’ll admit it; he was terrifying me, blocking my exit from the warehouse and standing far too close to me for comfort. I shivered at his smug tone and I didn’t miss the leer on his face as he spoke to me, but I wasn’t going to let the bully get the better of me.”

  “’I’m unlikely to be alone for very long, Mr Dennison,’ I said, hoping my voice wasn’t betraying the fear I was feeling. Had it wavered as I spoke to him? ‘Peter is on his way here as we speak, so we won’t be alone for very long.’”

  “I hoped that the mention of Peter would make him think again about whatever it was that he had planned, because it would have been obvious to a blind man that he had something in mind.”

  “‘Long enough for what I want to do, Mrs Drinkwater.’ He said, as he moved towards me and grabbed my head in both his hands. I was totally unprepared for this and he drew me, unresisting, into his arms while he kissed my cheeks and then my mouth, all the while whispering in my ear.

  “‘I know you want this as much as I do. That armless wonder won’t be doing much for you, now that he’s come home. Anyone can see that a red-blooded woman like you needs more than that snivelling excuse for a man in your bed and I’m here, ready and willing to step in where he fails. You need a real man like me to keep you happy.’”

  “I was rigid with the shock of what was happening at first, but then the anger within me boiled up so that my rage was white-hot and I found I suddenly had the strength to free my arms. I grabbed hold of his coat to steady my hold and then I brought my knee up into his groin with as much force as I could muster. The shock and the pain from the blow made him bend over towards me but he didn’t loosen his grip of my head and, as he straightened back up, he pushed me up against the wall of the cupboard and banged my head two or three times against the wooden planking. I saw multi-coloured stars explode around the edges of my vision and then a blackness began to draw in and I think I nearly lost consciousness at that point. It was the pig butcher’s voice that brought me back to full awareness, as he began to whisper into my ear once more.”

  “‘Do you like to fight for it then, Mrs Drinkwater? You like to have a bit of a rough about before you get down to the nitty-gritty, do you? That’s fine by me. A little, delicate scrap like you can’t do much to hurt me, you know, but it’ll be fun while you try.’”

  “The revulsion I felt for him was stomach-turning and I was very nearly sick there and then. I didn’t have the breathe to say anything to him and I could feel my legs turning to jelly as he continued to whisper in my ear and breath in my face. I struggled again, trying to free my head from his hands so that I could pull away from him and breathe clean air instead of his fetid breath, but he banged my head against the wall again and this time I did black out. It was only for a second but long enough for my legs to give way completely and I slipped down the wall.”

  “The pig butcher thought I was acquiescing to his demands and aided my descent to the floor by kicking my feet out from under me, never letting go of his hold on my head. I landed awkwardly onto my shoulder and the pain was so intense, it cleared the fuzziness in my head and I became fully aware of my surroundings again.”

  “Dennison threw himself on top of me, squashing the breath out of my body and compounding the injury in my shoulder. He let go of my head but put one of his hands round the front of my throat, squeezing hard enough to cut off the bulk of my air supply while he tugged at my skirts, trying to pull them upwards with his other hand. I tried desperately to struggle, but he was so heavy that I was pinned to the floor and couldn’t even raise one knee. He began whispering into my ear again; saying such horrible and vulgar things that made me feel so sick and dirty and I couldn’t do anything to stop him. His hand was winning its battle to pull my skirt up to my waist and then he grabbed hold of my underclothes, to try and separate them from my body.”

  “His cheek was touching my face as he concentrated on what he was trying to do and the smell of him was so unspeakably foul that I could feel the nausea rising in my throat and that made me panic. I knew that if I was sick I wouldn’t be able to even turn my head to the side to expel it and there was a good chance that I would choke. The anger I was feeling was turned into white-hot fury that he could dare to do this to me and I reacted as an animal would if it was cornered.”

  “As he continued whispering into my ear, he rubbed his filthy unshaven face against my cheek and I opened my mouth and bit down on the only part of his anatomy that I could reach – his earlobe. I could taste the iron-like flavour of his blood as I clamped my jaws together and he let out a high-pitched squeal that would have rivalled any that came from the pigs that he slaughtered. He bucked about on top of me as the pain he was feeling reached a crescendo but I didn’t let go. I was being ruled by a purely atavistic savagery that had risen in me because of what he was trying to do to me and all I wanted to do was cause him as much pain as I could. The blood from his ear was dripping into my eyes and across my face as I clung grimly on and it ran into my mouth as I continued to bite down as hard as I could. I didn’t let go until he was lifted bodily off me and I could see Peter behind him. Peter was holding Dennison as though he was a human battering ram and he used him as such, banging his head two or three times against the warehouse wall, in much the same way as the pig butcher had slammed mine.”

  “Peter had been in a great deal of pain with his rotten tooth and I think he took all of that pain and frustration out on Dennison. I scrambled to my feet, righting my clothes as I did so and then gently placed my hand on Peter’s arm, speaking to him in as soft and gentle a voice as I could manage at that time. Peter always responded better if people were calm and quiet with him, but it took a tremendous amount of self-control not to scream at this point.”

  “‘That’s enough, Peter” I said, ‘that’s enough. Put him down on the floor, there’s a good lad.’”

  “Peter stopped using Dennison as a battering ram and looked at me, puzzlement clouding his eyes and his mouth drooping in case he was going to get into trouble. He didn’t put Dennison down though and I knew it would take very little to push him over the edge and start him attacking the butcher again. I had to calm him down so that he didn’t kill Dennison and then get arrested for murder. As it was, I wasn’t sure if Dennison was still breathing, Peter had put a great deal of effort into the force he had used to bang Dennison’s head against the wall, the pig butcher’s eyes were closed and he hung limply in Peter’s grasp.”

  “‘Put him down, Peter.’ I repeated, as calmly as I could, given that every nerve-ending in my body was screaming at me to stop Peter murdering the butcher. I lowered my voice even further and found the strength from somewhere to smile at Peter.

  “ ‘Put him on the floor, lad, so I can check if he is still breathing and, if he is, we’ll take him back to his own warehouse and leave him to recover on his own.’”

  “Slowly, as if he might change his mind at any moment, Peter lowered Dennison to the floor and then stood back, staring at me.

  ‘He’s hurt you, Bia, you’re bleeding,’ he said, pointing at my face where I could feel the pig butcher’s blood drying on my skin.”

  “‘No, I’m not hurt, Peter, you arrived in time to stop him hurting me. This is from Dennison’s ear because I bit him when he knocked me to the floor.’”

  “Peter’s face creased and he laughed at the thought of me biting Dennison’s ear and making him bleed. I could have screamed in frustration because he had no idea that we were in danger every moment that we had this body on the warehouse floor.”

  “‘Is this what he meant about teaching you a lesson, Bia?’ Peter asked. ‘You know, I heard him say that you had a lesso
n to learn the day he bought the warehouse.’”

  “‘Yes, yes it is what he meant, but I’ll explain it all later.’ I said. ‘Now, I’ve got to check to see if he’s still alive, Peter. You go and look out of the door and see if there’s anybody about. We don’t want anyone to see us moving Dennison back into his warehouse.’”

  “With a mumbled ‘Ok’ Peter crossed the warehouse floor towards the door and I crouched down next to the prone pig butcher. He was still breathing, although his eyes were closed and his heartbeat, when I checked that, was as steady as a rock. He obviously had the constitution of an ox. I straightened up as Peter came back to report that the coast was clear.

  “‘Can we carry him between us?’ I asked. ‘If you take hold of him under his arms, I’ll lift his feet and we should be able to get him back next door.’”

  “‘No need for you to try, Bia.’ Peter said. ‘I can carry him on my own.’ And he pushed his arms under Dennison’s prone body and lifted him easily off the floor, setting off for the door so quickly I was almost left behind. I ran to catch him up, so that I could check that the coast was still clear outside before we went out into the open. There was no-one about and the snow was falling again from a darkened sky. For the first time that winter I was pleased to see the snow, knowing that it would deter anyone from hanging around outside and possibly seeing what we were doing.”

  “It only took seconds for Peter to cross the space between the two warehouses, kick open the door and dump Dennison’s inert form onto the floor. I made one last check that he was still breathing and that his pulse was normal before I followed Peter back into our warehouse.”

  “‘Are we going home now, Bia?’ Peter asked. ‘I’m hungry and I can eat now that the pain has gone out of my tooth.’”

  “‘In a minute, Peter.’ I answered, wearily. ‘I’ve got to get rid of the bloodstains on the floor, so that no-one will know what happened in here. Then we can go home and you can have the biggest pie in the shop for what you’ve done for me today.’”

  “Peter’s face split into a huge grin and he lugged a bucket of water across to the cold store and scrubbed at the floor to remove the bloodstains. Meanwhile, I dipped the end of my shawl into the bucket and scrubbed at my face to eradicate the crusted blood which had pooled around my nose and run down my neck. The dried blood on my blouse could wait until after we got home; I could cover that with my shawl. In any case, in the blizzard that was blowing outside no one would be stopping to look at other people. If there was anyone out in this weather, they would be head down and as intent on getting home as we were. As soon as the floor looked as normal as was possible, I checked outside again and Peter and I set off for Queen Street, with me holding on to Peter so that the strong wind didn’t blow me over.”

  “I felt as weak as a kitten, as though I had done ten rounds in a boxing ring with a prize-fighter, but I had to keep going so that we could reach the safety of the shop. As I had expected there were very few people about on the streets; the blizzard had seen to that and Peter and I reached the safety of our back alley without having to stop. I didn’t dare go in through the shop in case there were any customers in there who might be able to see the bloodstains on me in the lamplight. We went in through the back yard gate and entered the kitchen with a cloud of snow billowing around us until we could close the back door against it. Annie and Simon were sitting at the kitchen table where she was encouraging him to eat his tea. One glance showed her that there was something wrong and she quickly herded Simon up the stairs to settle him in his bedroom with a toy before coming back downstairs to find out what had happened. The only other person in the kitchen was Sammy as Hannah was serving in the shop and, thankfully, William had brought Simon home from school and then headed straight for the Red Lion.”

  Sam took my shawl and looked in dismay at the bloodstains on my blouse.

  “‘What’s happened, Bia?’ he asked, pushing me down into the armchair next to the range. ‘Have you had an accident?’”

  “I sighed, unwilling to remember what the pig butcher had tried to do to me, but knowing that I had to talk about it to get the whole ghastly business out of my head.”

  “‘It was the pig butcher. He saw me going into the warehouse on my own and he followed me in.’ I began, but Sammy held his hand up to stop me while he unwrapped me from my shawl.”

  “‘Keep it until Annie comes back downstairs and I can get Hannah to shut the shop. That way, you’ll only have to tell it once.’ He said. I knew he was right and, in any case, I didn’t have the strength left to argue with anyone. Peter, who had been rummaging in the pantry, popped his head round the door and asked if he could have one of the pies. I smiled agreement although my stomach heaved at the thought of food. I struggled to my feet as Sam and Hannah entered the kitchen.

  “‘I’ll have to go and change this blouse, Sam.’ I said when he looked enquiringly at me. ‘I’ll burn it on the range because I’ll never manage to get those stains out of it.’”

  “‘Good idea.’ He concurred. ‘You can tell Annie to come downstairs while you’re there. Can you manage, lass?’”

  “I’d stumbled as I’d stood up and his voice was full of concern for me.”

  “‘I’ll manage, Sam.’ I answered, although the effort to mount the stairs seemed almost gargantuan and I wasn’t sure that I would manage.”

  “I collected Annie from Simon’s room and we gathered around the kitchen range while I told the others everything that had happened that afternoon. It was a painful and embarrassing story and I really didn’t want to tell anyone, but they listened with sympathy and encouragement and only gave their opinions when I had faltered into silence after relating the tale of the journey home. I had been ripping my stained blouse into shreds as I had talked, taking my temper and my hurt out on the material and when I had finished I leant forward and pushed the torn fabric into the heart of the fire. It burned brightly, illuminating the faces of the four people as they sat around me. My heart suddenly expanded with the love I had from them all and I felt better than I had done all afternoon. In the silence which fell between us we were all conscious of Peter’s champing jaws as he finished demolishing the pie I had given him and looked around him for more to eat.”

  “‘I don’t think that’ll be the last we see of the pig butcher.’ Sam said, looking more serious than I had ever seen him before. ‘He’ll not take it lightly that you bested him like that, although I think it unlikely that he will make any official complaint. He’d be hard put to explain why he was in a position for you to bite his ear, but he’ll want his pound of flesh for it, all the same.’”

  “‘There was nothing else I could do, Sam.’ I said. ‘I couldn’t let him rape me and I didn’t know that Peter had arrived. If I had known, I would have just waited for him to move Dennison, but I thought it was fight or be raped and I preferred to fight.’”

  Sam’s face turned a deep purple as I said this and he clenched his fists at his side.

  “‘I could throttle the bastard for what he tried to do to you, Bia,’ he said.”

  “‘No, Sam,’ I cried. ‘You mustn’t do anything to him. He would run to the police immediately and you could end up in prison for a very long time. I don’t want you to get into trouble because of me. Think about your children. They need you and so do we. Please, don’t try to punish him for what he did to me.’”

  “Hannah added her cries to mine and Annie roundly told him that he was best to keep his distance from Dennison, that he would get his just deserts in some other way.”

  “‘The man’s evil,’ she declared, ‘and he’ll end in an evil way, you mark my words.’”

  “I had to smile at Annie’s vehemence, she was so convinced that good would triumph and evil would be punished.”

  “‘Keep smiling, lass,’ Sammy said, ‘you’ve got such a bonny smile and it’s not often that you get the chance to use it these days.’”

  “‘Is it any wonder, Sam?’ I asked. ‘All I
want is a happy and safe home for me and Simon and all I seem to get recently is trouble.’”

  “‘I know, lass,’ he commiserated, ‘but things will turn out fine, just you wait and see if I’m right. But we need to get yon bugger warned off before he tries anything else. I wouldn’t trust him with St Peter’s keys, I wouldn’t, so we need to get it sorted. Trouble is, I’m not sure what to do for the best so that none of us suffers. But I think the first thing is for you to have a good night’s rest, Bia, and we can face tomorrow when it comes.’”

  “I was so exhausted by then that I readily agreed, leaving Annie and Hannah to put Simon to bed and to prepare the shop for the next day. I awoke around midnight when William came home from the Red Lion and made a very noisy pantomime out of trying not to wake anyone. It was only then that I realised I hadn’t given a thought to William all the previous day. I hadn’t missed him when I got home and I knew that there was no way on God’s earth that I was ever going to tell him what Dennison had tried to do to me. It was at that point that I realised I depended on Sam for support, but I only looked on William as a burden I had to bear through life. I was as likely to turn to him for sympathy and support as I was likely to fly to the moon. ‘When hell freezes over’ was my last thought before I slipped into an exhausted sleep.”

  Nana stopped speaking, her thoughts back in that cold night during the Great War. Victoria took hold of the delicate hand that lay on the chair arm and rubbed the back of it with her palm. Nana Lymer’s gaze came back to the present and she smiled at Victoria’s worried frown.

  “Don’t worry, pet,” she said. “I’m not going to go into a decline over what that mound of blubber tried to do to me. He got what he deserved and I’d do it again if I had to. I wouldn’t change what I did to him because what happened next would have happened anyway, me biting his ear didn’t make him do it. What he did next was because of what William had done, not me, and I have never forgiven William for it. I never will forgive him, not if I live to be a hundred.”