Hasty Death Read Online Free PDF Page B

fire her after this. She would need to return to the old life – the former life with all its poverty and dirt and squalor that she had so conveniently forgotten. If only they could
get out of this, if only Rose would forgive her, then she would get back to that bank and type till her fingers fell off with sheer gratitude.
    Far below from the street came the sounds of hawkers and the rumbling of carts over the cobbles, the clip-clop of horses’ hooves, and an occasional burst of drunken laughter.
    If only I could save us, thought Daisy, then maybe Rose would forgive me. Billy had kept away from them as much as possible. He had not stayed in the frowsty little room during Saturday night.
He had visited them on Sunday morning and had lit one candle because the morning was dark and foggy. Thoughtful of the bastard, sneered a voice in Daisy’s head.
    Then, as she looked at the candle, she had an idea. She rolled over Rose’s body and fell on the floor. She rolled across the floor until she was at the wall and, manoeuvring herself until
her back was against the wall, she began to push herself upright. Then she jumped across the room to where the candle stood burning on a rickety table. Jumping round until her back was facing it,
she stretched her bound wrists over the flame. The pain was excruciating but Daisy held her wrist steady until the rope began to singe and then burn. At last she was able to free her wrists. She
tore off her gag and bent and untied her ankles.
    She rushed to the bed and ungagged and untied Rose. ‘Don’t say a word till I use the chamber-pot,’ said Daisy, pulling that receptacle out from under the bed. She squatted down
while Rose crawled stiffly out of bed. ‘I bin holdin’ it in all night,’ said Daisy, reverting to her former Cockney accent under the strain of it all.
    ‘How do we get out of here?’ asked Rose coldly.
    Daisy tried the door.
    ‘It’s locked,’ she wailed.
    ‘He’s coming back,’ said Rose, hearing footsteps on the stairs.
    Daisy seized a frying-pan from a shelf and stood by the door. ‘I’ll whack the bleeder wiff this the minute he comes in.’
    There was a banging on the door and a familiar voice shouted, ‘Open up or I’ll break the door down.’
    ‘Captain Cathcart!’ shouted Rose. ‘Break the door down. He may be back any minute.’
    The door heaved and shuddered as Harry threw his weight on it and it finally crashed open.
    Rose flung herself into his arms and then almost immediately withdrew, her face flaming. ‘How did you know where we were?’ she asked.
    ‘Becket will explain. Becket, take the ladies to my home and telephone Mr Jarvis to bring round a change of clothes for Lady Rose and for Miss Levine. I will wait for this Billy
Gardon.’
    ‘I can’t see our coats or hats,’ said Rose, looking around. ‘Probably sold them,’ said Daisy.
    Becket hustled them down the stairs to where two urchins were guarding the captain’s car. He tucked them in with fur rugs and then got into the driving seat.
    There was a long silence and then Daisy said in a little voice, ‘I’m sorry.’
    ‘What came over you, you stupid girl?’ said Rose in glacial tones.
    Daisy could only hang her head. Her wrists were so painful, she wanted to scream.
    ‘I will set you up somewhere,’ continued Rose, ‘and then never want to see you again. Do I make myself clear?’
    ‘Yes, my lady,’ said Daisy. She wanted to cry, but she had cried so much during the night that she felt there were no tears left.
    At Harry’s home in Water Street in Chelsea, Becket made tea for them. Daisy whispered to him, ‘Can I sit in the kitchen? And have you anything for my wrists?’ She held them
out.
    ‘Come with me,’ said Becket. He led her downstairs to the kitchen and searched in a first-aid box until he found some burn ointment, gently applied it and bandaged her wrists.
    ‘How did this happen?’ he asked. ‘Did that monster . . .?’
    ‘Naw,’ said Daisy wearily.