A Daughter’s Courage: A powerful, gritty new saga from the Sunday Times bestseller. Kitty Neale

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       Chapter 11

      Robbie had come to the better part of the town in a bid to find somewhere suitable to rob. He pulled his scarf up over his face against the bitter wind. It hadn’t snowed for a few days and what was left on the streets had turned to slush. He was desperate for a smoke and his stomach growled with hunger. With empty pockets he would have to go without until he found somewhere, or someone, to provide the money he so desperately needed.

      As he wandered the streets, all filled with Christmas shoppers, Robbie set his mind to planning. The London jeweller’s job had been a doddle – he’d almost been spoon-fed the idea – but it wasn’t so easy to come up with a plan of his own. It would have to be fail-safe, low risk but high reward. Robbie knew he wasn’t the sort of bloke who could handle a prison sentence; he had to ensure he wouldn’t be caught.

      Robbie glanced in the shop windows at the displays of expensive Christmas goods. Exquisite chocolates, fine jewellery, French perfumes and over-priced woollens. His thoughts suddenly turned to Adrian – these were just the sort of fancy shops that his brother would frequent. More determined than ever, and with jealousy raging within him, Robbie turned into a small side street to evade the howling wind. The shops in this street were mostly the artisan or bohemian type, not the sort that would be worth stealing from. He wasn’t quite sure where he was going, but he carried on regardless.

      He turned into another street that appeared to be coming to a dead end, and halted. His travels had been fruitless and left him feeling disheartened, hungry, cold and verging on giving up. Robbie was about to turn back when a shiny red MG pulled in to the kerb in front of him and parked up. It looked brand-new, and once again Robbie felt a surge of jealousy. It was just the sort of flashy car he’d love to own. Stepping back into a dark doorway, he watched as a middle-aged man got out of the car. He was dressed in the same style as Adrian liked, wearing a dapper suit and long coat. Robbie guessed the man would be loaded and wondered how much he might have in his wallet.

      He waited for the wealthy-looking gent to pass the doorway, then, seizing the opportunity, he jumped out and grabbed the man’s neck from behind. The man yelled out and struggled, but Robbie pushed two fingers into his back. ‘Don’t say a word or I will fucking shoot you,’ he warned.

      The man stopped trying to fight, his body seemingly frozen in fear as he quickly nodded his head. Robbie was nervous, but his victim’s easy submission boosted his confidence. ‘Give me your money … slowly … hand it over and I won’t hurt you.’

      The man took his wallet from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and, shaking, held it out to his side. Robbie snatched it. ‘Now the keys to your car.’

      The man reached into his trouser pocket and held the keys out for Robbie to take. He grabbed them, saying menacingly, ‘Don’t move. Stay where you are and don’t turn around. If I see you look at me, I’ll kill you.’

      Robbie ran to the car, leaped in and sped off down the street without a second thought for his prey. As far as he was concerned the man was easy picking and could afford to lose a car and a few quid. It wasn’t as if he’d really hurt anyone, so his conscience was clear.

      Robbie knew the police would soon be looking for him, and the car. It wasn’t exactly discreet with the bright red paintwork and gleaming chrome finish, but he was reluctant to get rid of it.

      There was only one thing he could do: get out of the area. In fact, he thought, it would probably be best to get out of Scotland.

      With only a week to go until Christmas, Dorothy was beginning to get excited. She always received a lovely knitted hat and scarf from her mother, but this year she was mostly looking forward to having a couple of days off work.

      ‘Cor, Nel, I really ache this morning,’ Dorothy said as she rubbed the small of her back. ‘Still, I suppose I should be thankful for small mercies because at least the morning sickness has stopped.’

      ‘Just you wait ’til your ankles blow up like balloons and the little bugger starts kicking your ribs,’ Nelly said with a chuckle. ‘This ain’t nothing yet, not compared to what you’ve got coming.’

      Dorothy smiled. She didn’t mind any discomfort that her pregnancy might bring, and she was really looking forward to feeling her baby kick.

      ‘Have you thought about seeing the midwife yet?’ asked Nelly.

      ‘No, and I won’t until I have to. Can you imagine their faces when they hear I haven’t got a husband? Mum knows all about having babies. I mean, she gave birth to me, didn’t she? I know she’s worried about it, but I’ve told her I want to have the baby at home. I just don’t think I could handle the nasty looks and jibes I’d get in hospital.’ Dorothy felt sad at how others would think of her once she started to show, but she couldn’t really understand why it was so terrible. She loved the child growing inside her and surely that was all that mattered.

      Nelly looked astounded. ‘Dottie, you can’t do that! This is your first. What if something goes wrong and you need medical attention?’

      ‘I can’t see that happening. Women have been having babies since time began. I’m a bit scared, but it’s all natural.’

      ‘That may be so, but women have also died in childbirth. I ain’t trying to scare you any more than you already are, but Dottie, you need to be realistic.’

      ‘My mind is made up. I’m having a home birth, without an interfering midwife, and that’s that.’

      ‘Well, if you’re so bloody insistent, will you at least let me help your mum? I’m no nurse, and our Linda had her first baby in hospital, but I was there when she dropped her last two sprogs at home.’

      ‘Really? You would do that for me?’

      Nelly gave her friend a hug. ‘Of course I will. I told you, I’m your friend and I’ll be there for you, come what may.’ With a soft smile, she added, ‘I just wish you was a bit more blinking sensible at times.’