‘What’ll happen to him, sir? It was an accident, he didn’t mean it.’
That was not for the officer to say, but he gave Edward permission to have a few words with Alex before they took him away.
Some of the neighbours stood on their front steps, whispering and nodding at the ambulance and the police. Two air-raid wardens joined the gathering, and they all watched with interest, but the police kept them at a distance.
Edward went over to the silent Alex, standing between two police officers. He looked unafraid, his chin up and managing not to cry. Edward couldn’t say what he wanted, not with the officers standing so close … He caught Alex’s hand and tried to hug him, but the sergeant broke them apart, and pushed Edward roughly aside. ‘Don’t start anything, sonny, go to your mother, there’s a good lad. Let’s get this over with as quietly as we can. The whole street’s watching.’
Alex was led to a police wagon and helped up into the back of it. Edward called out to him that everything would be all right. He watched the white face staring from the back of the van as they drove off.
The policeman and the ambulance attendant stood talking at the front door, and Edward went to pass them to enter the house, but the policeman put a hand on his arm. ‘She’s in a bad state, and she won’t let anyone touch him. We’ve been waiting for a doctor so they can take him up to the morgue.’
Edward couldn’t face her. She sat in exactly the same position, with Freedom still in her arms. Rex still licked the lifeless hand.
‘Ma, Ma, you’ll have to let him go. They have, to take him away.’
Slowly she turned vacant eyes towards him, and as if in slow motion she blinked. Prising her rigid arms from his father’s body, he held her. She was covered in blood, and it had dried, hard. The police and an attendant moved in, wrapped the body in a blanket and carried it outside to the ambulance, where the doctor was waiting. Several people watched the body being lifted into the ambulance, and the doctor examined it briefly and told the ambulance crew to take it straight to the morgue, the hospital could do nothing. One of the spectators asked if bombs had dropped on this side of the street, if they had he hadn’t heard them. ‘I’ve got so that I don’t hear ‘em any more, was it a bomb done it?’
The policeman shook his head, said quietly that this was a murder. They shut the back of die ambulance, not noticing the white dog standing by the closed doors.
The truck drove off, the dog followed, followed until his paws were bloody from running on the broken glass and rubble. He knew his master was inside the wagon, and he wouldn’t stop following it. In his exhaustion and the confusion of the traffic he began to follow the wrong vehicle, becoming more bewildered and confused, unable to find the scent, unable to find Freedom. In the end he lay in the gutter, chest heaving, tongue lolling, and his pink eyes closed as his heart gradually stopped.
Evelyne felt as if her heart had broken, it was so painful, she kept her hand pressed to her chest, to the dark, crusted stain. Edward made her some tea. She didn’t speak, but she sipped it, slowly. At long last she appeared to thaw out, the hand that had remained pressed to her chest moved, and she stared at her stained fingers. ‘Where’s Alex, where’s Alex?’
Edward bit his nails, looking guilty. ‘They took him down the station, Ma, just to give a statement.’
Evelyne was puzzled, she rubbed her head. ‘Why Alex, Eddie? Why have they taken Alex?’
Edward chewed his thumbnail down to the quick, he couldn’t face her. ‘Because he did it. They said you can see him any time.’
She knew it was a lie and she felt sick. She had to hold the table-top tightly, or she would have fainted. ‘Alex would never have touched him, Eddie, he worshipped the ground he walked on … Don’t ever lie to me, don’t lie to me!’ She gripped his hand so tight it was like a vice on his wrist.
He sobbed, ‘He said that he would say it was him, then I could go to Cambridge. He said it was what you wanted, Ma, what you dreamed of, you always said that.’
She stared at him, as if he were a stranger. He had sent his own brother to jail.
‘He’s still a juvenile, Ma, they can’t do anything to him, but they could to me. I’m two years older … It’s what you always wanted, isn’t it? You want me to go to university.’
She walked out into the hall, feeling her way along the walls, clinging to the banister as she walked up the stairs. Edward followed and stood at the foot of the stairs. ‘It’s what you want, isn’t it?’
She looked down at him, her eyes as cold as the North Sea. ‘It’s what you want. Well, you go, if Alex doesn’t mind, you go.’
‘I’ll show you, Ma, I’ll be somebody for you, I will, I’ll not stop until I prove it was the right thing to do …Ma? Ma?’
The bedroom door had slammed, and he banged on the banister rail with his fist.
Evelyne undressed, carefully folding each garment, the bloodstained apron, the blouse. She sat on the bed, touching it, running her fingers along the carved posts. One son at university, one in jail, Freda and Ed gone … this was what Rawnie had seen in the palm of her hand. ‘Beware the black birds in the sky. You will lose all you love.’ They were the planes, the German bombers, and it was true, she had lost Freedom, she had lost her love.
The scream echoed down through the derelict house. In the kitchen, Edward raised his head, looked up towards the bedroom. She frightened him, the terrible sound of her screaming, calling his father’s name over and over. At long last the screams stopped, and he heard sobbing, it reverberated through the whole house. He put his hands over his ears to try to block out the noise, but it went on and on. He rocked in his chair. ‘Stop it, stop it, stop it …’
When he took his hands away the house was silent. He didn’t know when he had fallen asleep, but he sat up sharply as he heard her calling for him.
‘Edward, bring me up some hot water, I have to wash.’
He carried up the big kettle, poured the water into her bowl.
‘I’ll be down in a minute.’
He had a pot of tea ready for her in the kitchen, and two slices of buttered toast. She was dressed in her best clothes. ‘I’ll go to the police station, poor Alex must think we’ve forgotten him. We’ll have a lot to be getting on with, there’s everything to arrange for you to go up to Cambridge, and then we’ll need the best lawyer there is.’
Edward was stunned — she was as calm as ever, but when he went to kiss her she pushed him away. She didn’t touch his tea or the toast, just counted the change in her purse. Edward would never forget the way she looked at him, it released him, released him from her. Her eyes were filled with such loathing — as if he were no more than an animal. She never let him touch her again, never held him in her arms, and never spoke of Freedom. She even removed the photograph of Freedom from the mantelpiece, along with those of her two sons.
Evelyne buried Freedom, and the local people showed their love and respect for their dead champion, walking in silence behind the hearse. Ten highstepping men wearing dark pinstriped suits, bright neckerchiefs and gold earrings appeared as if from nowhere. Somehow news had reached them that their fighter was dead. They kept a few yards back from the rest of the mourners, their heads held high — arrogant, black-haired men.
When the ceremony was over, Evelyne remained beside the grave. There was an air of aloofness about her, an untouchable grief that made it difficult for her friends and neighbours to comfort her. Even Mrs Harris couldn’t take her in her arms. It was strange, but it was Jesse, who had brought the men from the clans, who stood alone with her when everyone else had gone. It was Jesse who sensed her need, her devastating loss. He held her gentiy, and she could smell the same musky oil that Freedom used to wear.