Free A Cuckoo in Candle Lane by Kitty Neale Page B

willingly. It was safe there; nothing could ever touch her again.
     
    Elsie impatiently drummed her fingers on the table. ‘I don’t care what you say, Bert, I’m going round there. Something’s wrong, I just know it.’
    ‘Don’t interfere, Elsie, it’s none of our business.’
    ‘I can’t just leave it, love. First there was that terrible row, and now for over half an hour it’s been deathly quiet. I’m worried sick.’
    ‘All right, all right,’ he said, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender.
    She scurried out anxiously. ‘Ruth, Ruth, are you there?’ she called, banging loudly on the door. ‘Come on, Ruth, let me in!’
    Peggy Green and Joan Mason appeared at her side, their faces concerned. ‘We heard the commotion earlier on. What’s going on, Elsie?’ Joan asked.
    ‘I don’t know, but I’m worried,’ she told them, bending down to look through the letterbox. Elsie couldn’t see much, just the bottom of the stairs, but then, as her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she saw what looked like a leg.
    ‘Bert, Bert!’ she screamed, rushing back to her own front door. ‘Come quick, I need your help.’
    ‘Yes, you’re right,’ he said, peering through the letterbox. ‘I don’t like the look of it.’ He stood up, turning to Elsie with concern in his eyes. ‘We need to get in there – and quick by the look of it.’ Lifting his foot he ordered, ‘Stand back, I’m going to break the door in.’
    Glancing around, Elsie saw Arthur and Ann hovering behind her. ‘Get inside, you two,’ she snapped, noticing other neighbours standing on their doorsteps, watching the scene with avid interest.
    There was a loud crash when Bert kicked the door, and as it flew open Elsie rushed in, her face paling at the sight of Sally lying crumpled on the floor like a broken doll. ‘Sally, Sally,’ she cried, rushing to kneel at her side, heaving a sigh of relief when she heard a faint groan. Oh God, where was Ruth? She wouldn’t leave her daughter like this. ‘Bert, look after Sally. I must see if Ruth’s all right.’
    As Elsie entered the kitchen, her eyes stretched in amazement. Ruth was sitting in a chair, a glasslike expression in her eyes as she stared into the dying embers of the fire. ‘Ruth, are you all right?’ Elsie asked anxiously, hurrying to her side, her face creasing with concern when there was no response.
    ‘Elsie, I don’t like the look of Sally, I think we should call the doctor.’
    ‘What? Yes, all right, Bert, but something’s wrong with Ruth too. Look, can you carry her into our place? I’ll bring Sally. We can’t leave them in here, it’s freezing, and anyway Ken might come back.’
    ‘That bastard had better not show his face around here again. I can’t stand a man who hits women and children,’ Bert said darkly, bending to pick Ruth up. ‘Christ, there’s nothing of her, she’s all skin and bones.’
    Elsie was shocked to hear Bert swear, but didn’t blame him; she’d like to get her hands on Ken too. Gently lifting Sally and holding her close to her chest, she followed her husband out of the house.
     
    Earlier, in Balham, Barbara had quietly opened the side door of the pub. With bated breath she crept into the hall, padded to the bottom of the stairs and strained her ears for sounds of movement from above. Her nerves were taut and she sighed with relief at the sound of rumbling snores. It was seven o’clock in the morning, and just as she thought, the lazy git was still asleep – he didn’t usually surface until after ten.
    Creeping into the back room, she closed the door softly behind her, leaning against it for a moment while her eyes adjusted to the gloom.
    Every sound seemed accentuated as she knelt in front of the safe. The noise of the dial spinning sounded like the rattle of a roulette wheel. The clang of the handle as she yanked it down appeared to echo loudly in the small room.
    Tensing, she paused, her heart thumping as she gazed up at the