Now we're starting to get into the real meat of the story. John's left Vera for good, but he knows she will never let him go and there will be someday a price he will have to pay. In this chapter you'll also learn a lot more about John's relationship with his mother. And how their dynamic helped to shape John into the man he became. I apologize in advance for the chapter's length. As always, reviews and any comments are deeply and truly appreciated.
None of these character belong to me, with the exception of Liam Thornton and Nurse Farrow
John came face to face with Nurse Farrow as soon as he stepped outside of Vera's door. She brushed past him and entered his wife's room, closing the door behind her with a bang.
Bates sighed and proceeded to gather his things from the front room and stuff them into his valise. He already had his mind made up that he was leaving for good now. He knew that he'd given it his all to try and hold his marriage together, even as he questioned whether he believed Vera's story of how she got pregnant.
John still held on to a tremendous amount of guilt regarding the loss of the baby. Maybe that was why he had tried so hard to put it back together between the two of them. If he'd gotten Vera to forgive him, then that might have made it possible for him to forgive himself. As it was now he knew he'd carry that guilt with him for the rest of his life.
He startled when Vera's door flung open and the dark, imposing form of Nurse Farrow emerged.
"You just couldn't let it be!" The nurse scolded. "You wouldn't listen to my advice to stand down and give Vera some time to heal. You've got her hysterical you know. She's says she's done with you now. You realize that?"
"Really?" John replied sarcastically as he arched an eyebrow towards Farrow. He was finished with all the drama. He knew he needed to focus at the task at hand, so in his book his wife's theatrics no longer warranted consideration.
Again, he would always harbor a deep pang of guilt over his role in the miscarriage and how his life with her had ended. However, he knew absolutely now that she'd never forgive him and therefore there was no reason for Vera or her behavior to affect him any further.
John walked over to the kitchen table and dropped a large stack of bills on it. The notes represented a sizeable "bonus" that he had received from the Army as a result of his volunteering for the special mission. He'd planned to spend it on his wife with an expensive gift to remember him by when he went back to the front. But now, John decided under the circumstances it could be put to far better use.
"I'm leaving, Nurse Farrow," John spoke, his voice thick with emotion. "And I shan't come back to Vera. We are done. She's made her position more than clear." He pointed to the pile of notes on the table. This should cover your expenses while you're caring for her in my absence. The rent for the cottage is being paid by the Army…compensation to all the non-coms forced off base in order to accommodate all the newly commissioned officers. I'll arrange to have my pay divided in two…half will go to my mum and the rest sent to my wife on a monthly basis. I'll have no use for it where I'm headed. And finally, should I die while in the service I have indicated that any and all monies owed me by way of back pay and insurance be given to Vera."
The irony that he was worth more to his wife dead than alive was not lost on John. At least he'd make her happy in the end.
He then grabbed his bag and marched out the front door leaving Nurse Farrow frozen in place speechless, her mouth agape as he passed by her.
Farrow shook her head to clear her thoughts and dashed after John calling out to him from the front step. "But Mr. Bates, where are you going and where can we reach you? Mrs. Bates will want to know I'm sure."
John turned and regarded the nurse with a smirk. "She won't ask and she won't care," was his response as he headed down the walkway and onto the street. His fate lay before him and where he would go after his revenge was accomplished, mattered little to him.
He strode down the lane purposefully as he set off to the one place he knew his father would go to seek shelter. It was just three kilometers down the road. Each turn and bend so familiar that John was sure he could close his eyes and still wind up at his destination unscathed.
With less than a quarter kilometer to go, as he marched onward through a very familiar neighborhood something about his situation brought to mind a poem. "The Charge of the Light Brigade" by Tennyson.
"Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred."
Well into the second stanza John began reciting it out loud in time with his steps.
"…Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred."
"Well, I'm hardly riding into the valley of Death," John considered ruefully, "at least not my death." Yet he took some small comfort in the rhythm and the theme of the poem while he continued on his quest to find and confront his Da.
As he neared his destination along the cobbled streets, John was struck with the familiar feel of the road through his boots, the acrid smell of smoke coming from the workhouses in the area, and the stench of something rotting in the air. A chill of familiarity ran down his spine as he stood in front of a grey, dilapidated looking house. It was just as he had remembered it...
John was home.
He stood in front of it for a moment, as memories both good and bad swept up over him. The abuse from his dad and the hard and bitter life he'd endured along with his mum were certainly the strongest of those, but there were good times too. He thought of Liam and the fun they'd enjoyed together. Liam had toughened up John in the beginning of their friendship and had been his protector until John grew past him and developed into a formidable street fighter in his own right.
They'd run briefly in a small "gang" of similarly inclined youth, but their crimes were more of the mischievous variety. John's specialty being a pickpocket, but again his marks were always the "posh". If his mum didn't need the cash, he's spread the wealth amongst his youthful cronies and share some laughs as they spent their monies, on sweets and cigarettes and sometimes even beer.
Quickly the memories blackened and John took a deep breath to steady himself for what lay ahead. He walked up to the front door and listened for a moment. While wanting to hear his father's voice and confirm his presence within the house, he was equally hoping that his Da was not there. That way John could speak to his mother and explain what he needed to do and why.
That was a conversation he'd not been looking forward to, but realized in his heart that it would be far better to be honest with her concerning what had transpired between his father and Vera. His mum had been beaten and bulled by the bastard for so long, hopefully hearing this latest truth coming from her son would break the brutal hold Shawn Bates had upon his wife.
John felt the cold steel of the latch as he opened the door and stepped into the front parlor. He'd decided not to knock so as to prevent giving his father the opportunity to bolt out the back door. He entered quietly. Stealthily putting his bag down on the floor, listening for any noise that would indicate his Da was somewhere in the house.
Instead he was greeted by a soft, warm Irish brogue. "Who's..who's thar?" the voice questioned tremulously. "We've not any money here, so if its that ye be looking for, you've come to the wrong house." John immediately recognized his mother's voice. She was in the kitchen. Not hearing any other voices, he decided to call out to his mom and identify himself.
"It's me mum. Are you alone?"
"John…Johnny is that you son? Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I don't believe it. Oh… come here my boy, let me feast my eyes upon yeh!"
John strode into the kitchen doing a quick reconnoiter around the room to make sure Shawn was not hiding somewhere. He saw his mom start to rise to greet him, but he shushed her down, bent over her and gave her a warm embrace.
She felt thinner than he remembered and she clung to him like a frightened child. He felt her tremble as the hug continued and he found himself wondering what further cruelties she'd endured that had left her in such a state.
"Oh Johnny.. me boy… My prayers have been answered. You've come home to me and now everything will be fine. Come stand up straight before me and let's look at you."
John dutifully did as he was told. Something about being in this old house with his mum made him partially revert back to when he was a child.
Elizabeth Bates had been his shining star, his buffer from the cruel and unforgiving airs about Whitechapel and his salvation when he was a little boy. She read him stories and had the ability to weave oh so many fanciful tales about knights and battles royal. There were dragons and elves and good and bad fairies alike. But the common themes always revolved around the concepts of love, courage and honor above all. As a youngster he'd often wondered if it was possible that he'd grow up to be a knight and take his mum to a castle far away from their daily misery. He wanted so badly to take her somewhere safe.
Looking at the frail woman before him, her chestnut brown hair now streaked with strands of silver, he inwardly chastised himself for not checking in on her more frequently and for taking his father's word for it that his mum was "doing just fine."
He recalled back when he had secured a position in service as a footman at Lady Schiveley's estate, Elizabeth had cried tears of joy and made him promise to never come back home but to live his life forevermore away from the filth and mean streets of Whitechapel. John reluctantly agreed, but also told her that he would write her weekly and send money directly to her with the caveat she was not to let his father know about the extra cash. He hoped she had done just that. By now she would have a tidy sum that she'd be able t use to leave this place once Shawn was gone.
John knelt down in front of her, taking both of her hands and holding them. "How are you doing, mum? I mean really are you all right? You looked so pale and I felt you trembling as we hugged our hellos. He's not treating you poorly, is he?" John inwardly bristled at the thought of calling that man, "Da" or "Father."
"Oh, of course. You've no cause to worry son. Your Da has been quite respectful… quite respectful indeed. He took to heart what you told him when ye had that bit of trouble between ya. He's not laid a hand against me since. I promise you."
John wanted to believe his mum. He wanted to believe that at least in this one circumstance, Shawn had complied with his wishes and kept his hands off his mother.
Still she looked so frail and John had to choke back the tears that were starting to form as he took in how thin and drawn she appeared. Was she not eating properly…Was his good for nothing father using his wages on drink before groceries could be purchased?
John felt his hands automatically ball up into fists and his face redden the more he thought of that waste of a man.
"Mum, Do you know where Da is right now?"
Elizabeth shook her head no. "I've learned not to ask, son. He stopped here briefly this morn, lookin' a sight. Shirt was torn and face bloodied. Said he'd slept at the pub and on his way back this morning was assaulted by some ruffians that beat him and took all his money. He cleaned up a bit and then was off. He was going to the police to report his attack, and then would be gone all day looking fer any kind of work.
"Then I s'pose he'll go to the pub. The man tries real hard, John. He's always away workin' trying to put food on the table. But the pay is low though the work is backbreaking and so he needs to have some time to relax at the pub. I understand the man's need son, and I won't begrudge him his time away. And To be honest me boy, I'd not seen him so distressed ever. His being hijacked like that must've really shook him up"
John tried to harness his emotions as he heard his mother once again defend his lowlife father. His anger roiled through his body, but for the sake of Elizabeth he held it in check. She'd be so better off when his Da was dead and buried. She wouldn't know it at first, but she'd come around. He was sure of it.
Figuring there was no better time to tell his mom what had happened between her husband and Vera. John pulled up the other kitchen chair and sat opposite his mom. He looked intently into her eyes, gently took her hands in his and let out a long sigh.
"Mum, there's something you need to know about my Da. Something not nice…something despicable and abhorrent…something that's going to hurt you deeply."
John saw her back stiffen and felt the tug of her hands, trying to escape his grasp.
"I'll not have you speaking poorly on your father, son!" she bristled. "He's not an evil man and he's done nothing. Why would I have stayed with him so long if he was such a bad man?"
John carried on…"Nevertheless, I know for a fact that he's done a most vile and evil deed."
Bates swallowed knowing he was about to change his mother's world forever. The words began to pour out of him, unfiltered. There was neither time nor way to "pretty up" what he was about to tell her.
"Da assaulted Vera, mum. Not just once, but dozens of times. He got her pregnant. He came to our home last night, prepared to have his way with her again, only I caught him. He wasn't attacked by ruffians. It was I who beat him inside my home. I would have killed him had an accident with Vera not happened and her health took precedence over me punishing him for his despicable acts."
Elizabeth pulled her hands away from John and stood up quickly. "No, tis some kind of mistake. Shawn would never do that. He was just over checking on Vera to make sure she was safe. He told me he stopped by yer place earlier this morning. He was attacked after leaving yer home, I'm tellin' you son."
"Mum, I was there… You weren't. You didn't hear how he addressed her. He didn't just come by to check up on Vera. He was there to sleep with her again."
"It's all lies, John!" Bates couldn't believe what he was hearing. "It's the damnable fault of your harlot wife, Vera! She's a filthy piece of work she is. I told yer when you started going out with her that she was up to no good. She'd be more trouble than she was worth. No…no…no…I won't believe that of your father. It was she what tried to seduce him. You've no idea the reputation she's gotten for herself in your absence! She's a liar, a wanton hussy. I'll not believe that of your da."
John was appalled at the level of denial his mother possessed. It was his father that was a liar and miserable human being, but she refused to accept it. John had not been prepared to challenge his mum's irrational belief in Shawn Bates' innocence.
He saw the tears begin to form in his mother's eyes and rose to draw her nearer with a hug. He knew she was in shock, and that her initial response would be to refuse to believe the sordid tale. But she'd come around soon, know the truth in his words, of that John was sure.
He felt his mom stiffen as he attempted to draw her into his arms and then push away. "I want you to leave, John." Her voice sounded cold and off-putting. " I don't want you here when your da comes back here. 'You've said your cruel piece, now please go before I say something as cruel back at you."
"But mum, I'm not lying. Surely you know the type of man he's been. The beatings...the insults… you've borne them well, but its time now for you to accept the truth about your husband.. He's"
"I must stop ye there, son. I'll not listen to another word about it. I'll not listen to you speak such accusation towards your Da. Please gather your tings and be off with yeh." The tears were gone and in their place John saw a glazed look upon her visage.
For a few seconds, neither of them said a word. John continued to look intently at his mother's face until he saw what he was looking for.
He heard it first… a hitch in her breathing followed by the faint flash of recognition in his mother's eyes. She was beginning to believe that the words he spoke were true.
But in another second it was gone.
"I want you to leave at once, my boy," she repeated. He knew there'd be no point in trying to convince her now. She knew the truth of it, and now it was up to her to accept or deny that truth. He nodded and turned towards the front door picking his valise up as he moved towards the exit.
He opened the door and was shocked to see two of the local Bobbies standing on the front step.
"Does an Elizabeth Bates live here?" The taller of the two men asked gruffly.
"She does indeed officer. She's my mum. May I ask what business you have with her?" John inquired.
The shorter policeman addressed John, "Could you at least have her come to the door, sir. We'd prefer not to have to repeat ourselves twice."
John turned and beckoned his mom over. "There are two policemen here, mum. Says they want to speak with you. About what, I haven't the foggiest. "Elizabeth Bates came and stood by her son. Her hand instinctively reached for his arm and John felt her weight rest slightly against his side.
"Elizabeth Bates?" the taller officer asked.
"Yes, I am she. What tis this about officer?" John felt her hand clench his arm a little tighter.
"Elizabeth Batse, we've come to escort you down the street."
"W-W-Why? "her voice shook slightly.
"There's been an accident ma'am…just down a ways…not far. A body was found floating in the west basin at St. Katherine's docks. His papers were on him…but they're a bit blurry what with getting wet. But there was a suicide note left dry on the dock under a stone. We believe it came from the man we fished out of the basin. Name on the note said his name was Bates, Shawn Bates. We need you to identify the body."