Free Without a Trace by Lesley Pearse Page A

me.’
    ‘You don’t know what she said to me,’ Jack said plaintively, but he was already shrinking under the look of revulsion on the face of the young policeman. And Walsh had manhandled him as if he was capable of doing him serious damage.
    ‘I wouldn’t care if you told me she’d stolen a week’s takings or burned your shop down; there is no justification for any man hitting a woman.’ George went over to Mary, who was still on the floor, and helped her to her feet, then he turned to Molly and put his arm around her protectively. ‘You come home with me,’ he said. ‘We’ll talk about pressing charges while I see to your injuries.’
    Molly wanted to go with him. She couldn’t think of anywhere safer than being with George, and she hurt all over, but she couldn’t leave her mother alone with her father.
    ‘Thank you for the offer, George, but I can’t leave my mum,’ she said, as tears of shock began to run down her cheeks. ‘But I promise you, if Dad takes one further step towards either of us, I’ll ring the police station immediately.’
    They all looked towards Jack. He had slumped down on to a chair in the corner and was holding his head in his hands as if he was very aware he’d gone far too far.
    ‘He might be sorry now, but I’m still going to report what I’ve just witnessed,’ George said forcefully. He went over to Jack and prodded his shoulder. ‘You lay just one finger on either of them ever again and I’ll see you get locked up. Like I said, I’m off to report you now.’
    ‘I didn’t mean to hit her, but she got my goat,’ Jack whined. ‘You don’t know what I have to put up with.’
    ‘You should be down on your knees thanking God for such a devoted wife, and a daughter who has made your business so successful.’ George’s lips curled back in scorn. ‘If Mollyhad any sense at all, she’d leave home right now. She deserves so much better than this.’
    George left, then, slamming the shop door so hard the bell jangled furiously. Jack scuttled into the shop, not even glancing at his wife or daughter.
    Mary and Molly looked at one another fearfully. ‘He’ll put the “ CLOSED ” sign on the door now and probably go off to the pub,’ Mary whispered. ‘I can’t imagine what he’ll be like when he comes back. Maybe you should’ve gone with George.’
    Molly was shaky and nauseous with shock and hurting from the beating her father had given her, but George’s intervention had dispelled her fear. ‘I meant what I said, Mum: I’ll ring the police if he does anything more to either of us, and I’ll press charges. He’s got away with stuff for far too long. We have to stand up to him. Now, let’s go upstairs. He can go and hang himself for all I care.’
    Upstairs, Mary got Molly to sit down while she put a cold compress on to the red weals on her head and neck. One had caught her on the side of her face and drawn blood, and the skin around her eye was already swelling up.
    ‘You’re going to have a real bruiser in the morning,’ Mary murmured, and when Molly looked up she saw that her mother was crying silently.
    ‘Don’t, Mum. I can’t bear to see you cry,’ she said.
    Mary hugged her daughter close to her breast. ‘Oh, my darling. I think George was right – you should leave. This is no life for you, and I can’t even promise things will get better after today.’
    ‘I’d leave if you came with me,’ Molly said, moving her head slightly so her voice wasn’t muffled. ‘We could get a little flatin Bristol and I could work in one of the big shops, I’m sure you could get some part-time work, too.’
    Mary shook her head. ‘I couldn’t do that. It would mean I’d be dependent on you, and that isn’t fair to you either. You couldn’t look after us both, and I wouldn’t let you try. I’d just ruin your life.’
    Molly thought that was the saddest thing she’d ever heard. How could her mother believe that she’d ruin her own daughter’s