The Promise by Lesley Pearse

today,’ she gasped. It was the truth; she’d only sold one hat and that was a cheap felt one costing two shillings. With the odd change she kept in the counter drawer there was perhaps seven or eight shillings in all.
    His lip curled back. ‘Don’t lie to me, I know you do a good trade.’
    ‘Not today. It hasn’t stopped raining and it’s cold,’ she said.
    He lunged forward, brandishing the cosh, and Belle cowered back, covering her head with her hands. ‘Don’t hit me, I’ll give you what I have,’ she cried.
    When the expected blow didn’t come she peeped through her fingers. He was already at the counter drawer, scooping out the change in there and putting it in his pocket. That proved to her he had been watching her on some other occasion as the drawer was a tiny one and not immediately obvious.
    ‘Right, where’s the rest?’ he said, coming towards her again. ‘If you don’t get it I’ll smash the shop up, then you.’
    Belle’s heart thumped with fear. Desperation was written all over the man’s face, and she sensed he meant what he said. ‘There isn’t any more,’ she insisted. ‘I’ve only sold one cheap hat, I don’t keep any other money in here.’
    ‘Don’t lie to me!’ he yelled. ‘Get it now.’
    If there had been any other money anywhere, Belle would have run to get it. She’d had enough run-ins with desperate men before to know appeasement was vital.
    ‘I promise you there is no more,’ she said frantically. ‘If I had any, I would give it to you.’
    With that he swung his cosh at her cheval mirror and smashed the glass, shards falling tinkling to the floor.
    ‘Get it or you’ll be next,’ he yelled at her.
    Belle didn’t know what to do. The back door was locked and bolted, and even if she tried to reach it she knew he would catch her before she had a chance to open it and escape.
    ‘I can’t find something that isn’t here,’ she cried out. ‘You have all there is.’
    He gave a kind of angry growl and leapt forward, bringing his cosh down hard on her shoulder. Belle screamed in pain and staggered back, clutching at her shoulder.
    ‘It’s in there, isn’t it?’ He pointed his cosh towards the work room at the back.
    Belle’s back was to the wall by the back-room door. ‘If you can find any money in there you are welcome to it,’ she sobbed.
    As he moved as if to go into the back room she saw her chance, and flew towards the front door. But as she caught hold of the handle to pull it open, he was there behind her and he grabbed her by the shoulder and hauled her back.
    ‘You aren’t going anywhere, bitch!’ he yelled at her, and lifting his cosh again he brought it down with such force on her side that she crumpled and fell to the floor. But he wasn’t satisfied with that, and swinging his leg back he kicked out at her.
    In the split second as his leg moved, she tried to protect her belly with her arms, but it was too late for his boot struck squarely at her abdomen, sending her skidding across the floor to crash against the counter.
    The pain was so fierce she didn’t attempt to get to her feet. Instead she curled up, hardly able to see. She heard him lock the front door and pull the blind down over it, and sure he was going to kill her now, her only thought was what that would do to Jimmy.
    But he didn’t come back to her, he just stepped over her and went into the work room. She heard him crashing about, pulling down the boxes of trimmings on the shelves like someone possessed. She was fairly certain he’d pocketed the key to the door. Trying to reach the telephone was not an option because he’d stop her the moment he heard her. She couldn’t fight him, she didn’t even dare cry out in pain for fear that would anger him still more. So remaining motionless and seemingly unconscious on the floor seemed the only thing to do, for once he’d satisfied himself there was no more money anywhere, he’d go.
    It was so hard to just lie there when she