Free The Zig Zag Girl by Elly Griffiths Page B

childhood. Never knew her mum, her dad threw herout when she was sixteen. I thought I’d give her a proper home.’ For the first time his voice softened.
    ‘How did you meet Ethel … Mrs Williams?’
    ‘I was on holiday, staying at a place just outside Brighton. Butlin’s Ocean Hotel. Ethel was the pro.’ He saw Edgar’s look of enquiry. ‘The professional dancer.’
    ‘She wasn’t working with Max Mephisto then?’
    ‘It was the summer. She was going to go back to do the Christmas season with him, but I got there first.’ There was a real sound of triumph in his voice. ‘I asked her to marry me and she said yes.’
    ‘How long had you been married when … when she left?’
    ‘Ten years.’ He gave a bitter laugh. ‘Ten years. Bloody tin anniversary, according to my mum. Things hadn’t been easy. There was the war. We were totally cut off here on the island. I wasn’t called up.’ He shot a look at Edgar. ‘Reserved occupation.’
    ‘Can’t be an easy job being a fireman.’
    Williams seemed to relax slightly. ‘You can say that again. The things I’ve seen. I was in London in the Blitz.’
    ‘So Ethel was here on her own?’
    ‘Yes. My mum was always good to her, but I think Ethel was a bit lonely. Like I say, she wasn’t the domestic type.’
    ‘And after the war?’
    ‘We tried to start again. That wasn’t easy either. We wanted to start a family. When Ethel got pregnant, I really thought things were going to be better for us. Then she lost the baby.’
    ‘That must have been hard.’
    Williams looked away. ‘Ethel was really cut up about it. That’s why I took her to the show on the pier. I thought it would cheer her up. That’s how much of a mug I was. There was no travel during the war, you see, so there were no shows on the island, just amateur stuff. When the restrictions were lifted, the big names started to come. I thought it’d be a treat for Eth. She kept in touch with him. Mephisto. She used to send him cards every Christmas. Put both our names on them, sweet as pie, but you have to ask yourself, why’s your wife sending cards to another man?’
    Edgar thought that he’d better not answer this. Instead he said, ‘So you went to see Max Mephisto on Sandown Pier.’
    ‘Yes.’ Williams sat back and crossed his arms, looking more pugnacious than ever. ‘He was a fair magician, I’ll give him that. Very fair indeed. He did this trick where he put a girl into a box, just an ordinary cardboard box, then he stuck swords through it.’
    Edgar thought of Ruby on the stage at the Theatre Royal. He was glad that Max had used a traditional cabinet and not a box. He didn’t think he could stand the thought that it was only cardboard that protected Ruby from the blades.
    ‘It upset Ethel,’ said Williams.
    ‘Seeing the swords go into the box? That upset her?’
    ‘No.’ Once again that jeering note. ‘It upset her to see another girl performing with Mephisto. She kept saying,‘That used to be me. I used to be his girl.’ That’s what she actually said. “I used to be his girl.”’
    Despite himself, Edgar felt sorry for the angry little man. He had tried to cheer up his discontented wife, only to have her hankering after the man on the stage. Williams had loved her, he thought. He hadn’t missed the significance of the ‘Eth’. He thought of Ethel, the glamorous showgirl imprisoned on the Victorian island, like a princess in a tower. What must it have been like for her, stuck on the Isle of Wight for the duration of the war with only her mother-in-law (who sounded a bit like Edgar’s own mother) for company? Then to lose a baby and, maybe, her last grasp at a happy marriage. What would have happened if Ethel hadn’t seen Max on stage and been reminded of her other life? Maybe she would have had another baby and settled down with Williams. It was impossible to tell. But Ethel had ended up in Brighton, the victim of a sadistic killer. Brighton was the place where she had