Goodnight Lady by Martina Cole Page B

down for being a slovenly wife who had obviously asked for her husband’s hand and had got it.
    No, she would have to deal with Henry himself, threaten him with her father. It was a threat that would frighten him out of his very wits. She knew her family’s social status gave her a small hold over him, and it was a thrilling feeling. If only she could control her own fear! With Henry, it did not do to let him know you were afraid of him, or indeed of anything. He hoarded that type of information away like a squirrel, dragging it out of its hiding place when the time was ripe. Oh, she’d learnt a lot from Henry Dumas. An awful lot.
    She saw his cab arrive and braced herself. She would give him fifteen minutes before she entered the house.
     
    Henry looked at the doctor in dismay. The man was drunk!
    ‘Shall we adjourn to the bedroom, Mr Dumas?’ Carlton’s voice was slurred.
    Henry looked at the man quizzically. ‘Why on earth should I go up there?’
    Carlton waved a hand at him. ‘Sorry, Dumas old chap, got meself a bit puddled there. Always the same with this kind of job. Nasty business.’ He’d remembered at the last minute that Henry was only there to pay him. Imagine asking him if he wanted to be there! In his drunken state this struck him as hilarious and he laughed aloud.
    A silent Henry watched the doctor walk from the room with exaggerated care. He poured himself a brandy and sat down to wait. Upstairs Briony, Mrs Horlock and her mother were arguing furiously.
    ‘I’m not gonna let them do it, Mum. It’s wicked!’
    Briony’s face was white. The strain was beginning to tell on her and Molly felt her heart go out to the child.
    ‘Oh, Briony, you don’t understand! What are we gonna do with another child in the house? Now your father’s gone, and your wages too ... we’ll end up back in the dockside slums.’
    ‘No, we won’t. I’ll think of something, Mum. Won’t I, Mrs Horlock?’
    Briony turned pleading eyes on her in the hope she’d come up with something. Briony was frightened of having the child, but she was more frightened of the alternative. After Carlton had saved her from a miscarriage, it seemed evil to take the child now, why couldn’t her mother see that? And her a good Catholic as well. ‘I mean it, Mum. I’ll not let that doctor near me, I’ll ... I’ll scream the bloody house down!’
    As she spoke he lurched into the room with his big black bag and three pairs of eyes looked at him.
    All three registered the fact that he was roaring drunk.
    ‘Jesus in heaven, save us!’ Instinctively Molly crossed herself.
    ‘You’re drunk, man!’ Mrs Horlock reproached.
    Carlton stood on his dignity. ‘Madam, I am never drunk. I had a medicinal whisky for medicinal purposes. Now if you’d be so kind as to hold down the patient, I shall begin.’
    He opened up his bag and began taking out his instruments. Briony’s eyes widened to their utmost and she began to scream-high piercing screams that went through the doctor’s skull like a drill.
    Both Mrs Horlock and her mother put out their hands to try and calm her. Briony, thinking they were going to hold her down, kicked out and, leaping off the bed, ran across the room, Carlton grabbed her flying hair as she passed him, and she screamed again as she was yanked backwards.
    ‘Let go of me, you old bastard! Let go of me, I say.’
    Twisting around, she bit his arm. He let go, she opened the bedroom door and, running out, flew straight down the stairs and into the arms of a plump dark-haired lady who was standing in the hallway with Henry.
    ‘Oh, please don’t let them hurt me, missus! Please!’
    She clung to the newcomer as her saviour. She looked kind, with those big brown eyes in a white face. Please God, Briony prayed, let her help me.
    Isabel wrapped the child in gentle arms. Looking first at her husband, then at the two women and the obviously drunk man standing at the top of the stairs, she said, ‘What on earth’s going on