MUMMY CALLS ME ‘DADDY’S LITTLE SPY
Never by my real Name
Today she tried to kill me
BY throwing me down the stairs
Please help me, Nana. Or I’ll die.
P.S. I promise I’m not a spy.’
Love Bella.
Early 1939
I raced up the road frightened that Mummy would catch me. My bare feet scarcely touched the ground. I felt my short blonde hair getting wet and sticking tightly to my head. I gasped for air, my heart thumping painfully against my ribs. I worried that it would burst right out of my chest, but fear kept me running. My mad Mummy had threatened to kill me.
The warning wail of the air raid siren hurt my ears. I knew it meant go to a safe place. So I ran to my Nana. My danger came from Mummy. Not a German bomb. “Go faster,” I scolded my legs.
I didn’t know that I was leaving a thin trail of blood behind me. My head felt funny, bobbing about on my neck, like a heavy balloon. Nana’s London house was only three doors away but it seemed like miles.
My big toe throbbed badly and my thumb was still dripping blood.
I heard Mummy’s heavy footsteps thudding on the pavement as she chased after me yelling. “Stop… Isabella. Stop right now. Or I’ll make you so sorry.”
Sheer terror doubled my speed. The dreaded drumming of her feet on the pavement grew nearer. I knew she was catching me up. I hadn’t the breath to scream. Perhaps it wasn’t possible to outrun the punishment knife. My legs weren’t long enough, or fast enough.
Desperately, I clawed at the air, trying to pull my self forwards on imaginary ropes stretched across the pavement. It was a trick Mummy taught me. I hoped it would give me more speed, but found that it slowed me down.
Finally, I reached Nana’s front gate. I fumbled with the heavy black latch, but all my fingers were clumsy. Skin sticky with fear, my cold feet raced up the black and white mosaic pathway, which was Nana’s pride and joy.
I wasn’t tall enough to reach the door-knocker. Afraid that Nana wouldn’t hear me if I hammered on the wood, I forced open the strongly sprung letter box. I yelled through the hole. “Nana, come quick, Mummy’s got a knife. She’s going to kill me.”
Squinting through the letter box opening, I looked past the hallstand to the left of the big flight of stairs and prayed. ‘Angel Feebee, please make the parlour door open. Please, let Nana be in.’
Mummy’s footsteps were getting closer, keeping time with my thumping heart. What would happen if Nana had gone out? Where could I hide? I looked at the tall neatly clipped hedge. It was too tight for me to squeeze inside.
Perhaps the twins’ mummy would help me but they lived five doors further up the road. I’d be caught long before I reached Mrs. Penny’s.
I took a deep breath to fight off the sick feeling that prickled my throat. Now was definitely not the time to be ill on Nana’s spotless tile and red stoned doorstep. Already it was splattered with my blood. I tried to stop the red drops falling by wrapping my hand in my skirt, but it oozed through. I felt cold and went dizzy.
Rattling the letterbox yet again, I screamed. “Nana, please hurry, Nana. Mummy’s going to scalp me.” Then my throat froze up with fear. I could no longer speak as Mummy reached Nana’s gate.
Laughing at me, her eyes glittering with hatred, she walked slowly towards me. Gently stroking the blade of her knife still smeared with my blood.
I clung grimly to the letter-box, my only lifeline. Sixth sense told me when the parlour door opened. I opened my mouth to scream, but not a sound came out.
Mummy said softly. “I have you now. You can’t escape. I’ll cut a main artery next time. You’ll bleed to death before Nana can save you.”
“She’s coming, Nana’s coming,” I croaked through dry lips. The threat of instant death weighted my limbs. I couldn’t move. Was this the end of my life? Was there no God? Had my Angel Feebee gone to sleep?
Frozen with fear, I watched Mummy stride up the black and white tiled path. My mouth moved in a silent prayer to my Angel Feebee and her big boss in the sky. ‘Please God, save me from my Witch Mummy’s anger. Please let me live.’
“Nana can’t reach you before I plunge this knife up under your ribs straight into your heart.” Mummy smiled, but not with her eyes, they threw daggers at me.
“At long last,” she hissed. “I’ll be rid of you and my life can get back to normal. I’ll no longer be trapped in that depressing upstairs flat, with only you for company.”
Slowly she stepped forward, pointing the knife blade at my heart. There was the thud of footsteps from behind the door. At long last it opened.
‘Thank you God and my Angel Feebee. Thank you.’ I hurled myself inside the hall and clung onto my Nana’s knees.
Nana looked beautiful and smelled of Evening in Paris perfume. Her long chestnut hair was elegantly piled on top of her head. She was dressed posh in green silk, ready to go for afternoon tea with her best friend. Instinctively, Nana stood between Mummy and me.
“Lawd have mercy. What wickedness are you doing to the poor child now? Will you never learn to love your own flesh and blood?”
Mummy quickly put her arm behind her back and went into her perfect mother act. “I’ve done nothing wrong. You know how highly strung Bella is. The child has a tantrum every time she can’t get her own way.”
Now with my beloved Nana, I had to admire the way Mummy cleverly covered up her spiteful tricks.
“She runs to you for sympathy whenever she’s been naughty,” Mummy shouted. “You’re too soft with the child. Bella is a bad girl. She lost her temper and deliberately broke my best milk jug.”
Still clinging tightly to Nana’s knees, I peered round her thin silk skirt. “I won’t go home. Please don’t make me. If you do - She’ll k.k.k.kill me.”
“Silly child,” Mummy said, “Full of lies. I’m her mother. Why would I want to harm the apple of my eye?” Forcing a smile in my direction, she sighed. “I do wish you’d stop exaggerating.”
I held up my thumb to show Nana the deep cut. “Look what she did to me.”
“Oh! Lawd” - For the first time Nana noticed her bloodstained skirt. Pulling her lace edged white handkerchief out of her sleeve, she wrapped it tightly round my thumb and knotted it firmly over the cut.
“You need a plaster and a big bandage. I should really take you to Doctor Storm for stitches, but I don’t know how to explain that deep knife cut.”
“That’s easy,” said Mummy. “Tell the truth, that Bella was playing with knives, although I’d told her not to.”
“A likely story.” scoffed Nana. “He knows how much you resent the child.” Whilst Mummy stood on the doorstep scowling at me, Nana sighed, “This time you’ve gone too far my girl. I’m at my wits end. I don’t know how to cover up your cruelty any longer.” Dabbing at the blood stains on her skirt. Nana said crossly, “My best going out frock is ruined.”
“Don’t blame me,” Mummy sulked. “I didn’t want her running to you for help. I wish we didn’t live so close. She deliberately broke my pretty jug.”
Silent tears ran down my cheeks. “Mummy wants me dead. I had to run away.”
Nana looked from Mummy to me, utterly bewildered. “What brought all this on? Was the jug broken?”
“Yes, but Mummy broke it I didn’t.” I took a deep shuddering breath. “Mummy’s hiding a knife. Look behind her back. She’s going to skin me red raw, like a rabbit in a butcher’s shop.”
“What are you hiding behind your back? Show me,” demanded Nana. Reluctantly, Mummy obeyed.
Nana gasped when she saw the small black handled kitchen knife.
“I was peeling potatoes when Bella ran away.” Mummy smiled weakly at Nana, “I was so worried about her, that I forgot I was holding a knife.”
“How did the child get such a deep cut?” When Mummy didn’t answer, Nana scolded. You’re a wicked woman for attacking your daughter. I’ve known for years that you’re not a full shilling, but this is going too far. I won’t cover up murder even for you.”
“I did tell Bella not to play with a knife,” Mummy sulked.
Feeling brave with Nana between us, I chanted. “She did it. She cut me.”
“Shut up Daddy’s little spy,” snarled Mummy. Her face went red, then white with temper. Her eyes glittered. Frightened, I clutched tightly onto Nana’s leg.
“If I told Bella’s father your nasty tricks when left alone with his child, Harry would certainly leave you,” Nana fretted. “Pull yourself together my girl, or I’ll have to tell him. You’re a danger to yourself and others, especially to Bella. You’ll end up in prison, bringing disgrace to the family name.”
Mummy shifted from one foot to another, looking as if she’d burst into tears herself. “From the moment that devil child was born - my life hasn’t been worth living. Bella even had three teeth cut, how normal is that. She’s Satan’s child I tell you. I’m amazed she didn’t have 666 stamped on her forehead.”
I shivered. I’d already been burned on the bottom with a hot iron. What would Mummy do next?
“Will you stop this crazy talk,” Nana said sharply. “You’re the dangerous one with all your Witchcraft nonsense. It may help the people who buy your spells and lotions, but you’re still my daughter. Bella is staying with me until you come to your senses. I need a serious talk with your husband.”
Mummy’s face looked pretty when she laughed. “Harry won’t believe the truth. Mrs. Osgood, who lives in the downstairs flat, told him yesterday, that I was horrible to Bella. He called her a liar. And when Bella defied me, by telling him I had been giving her Chinese burns, Harry was angry with her - not me. He thinks I’m perfect.”
I remembered the pain of having the skin on my wrist twisted in two different directions at once. Scared, but comforted by Nana’s left arm, I warned. “I’ll tell Daddy you cut me, to use my blood in one of your magick spells.”
“I’ll not give you the chance, Daddy’s little spy,” Mummy hissed. If looks could kill, I’d have dropped dead.
“Go away. I’m staying with Nana.” I yelled, fervently hoping my dream would come true. I believed that the Mr. Stork, who delivered babies, had dropped me down the wrong chimney.
One day, my real Mummy would find me. She’d be sweet and kind and love me, even if I was naughty.
The strong steady note of the all clear siren sounded, breaking the tension.
Mummy blinked, “They must have been testing the system, there weren’t any planes overhead. Anyway, the war hasn’t officially started yet.”
“Don’t try to change the subject,” Nana said sharply. “You’ve nearly terrified your daughter to death. Go home. Make yourself a soothing cup of tea. And don’t come back until you’ve calmed down.”
There was a brief argument, which Nana won by shutting the front door firmly in Mummy’s face. …
Nana gave me a lopsided smile, her own eyes bright with tears. “Now, stop clinging to my knees so tightly that I can’t walk. You’re safe with me. Hold my hand and we’ll have a comforting cup of tea.”
When I released my strong grip on Nana’s legs, she grasped my good left hand firmly. Frowning, Nana said, “I do love your Mummy but she wears me out. I need a sit down and I’m sure you need a comforting kiss and cuddle. I’ll bandage your thumb first. And give you a sweetie for being a brave girl.”
Mummy was hammering on the front door with both fists demanding, “Let me in. She’s my child. You can’t take her away from me. “
“You believe you’re a witch. Open it, if you can?” challenged Nana.
“I’m not wasting my precious spells on a door.” Mummy’s shadow disappeared from behind the glass.
As we heard her stomping down the garden path, Nana and I both took a deep breath.
Half blinded by tears, I let Nana to walk me down the four stairs and the short passage, which led to her lovely warm parlour.
She wouldn’t send me back to live with Mummy again…… would she?