Harry
gave a little wave, but the girl turned away.
As he went with Len to Jackson Street, Harry thought of the child, and the way she had turned away, as though in distress.
Concerned, he promised himself that from now on, he would watch Len’s every move. But he must be careful not to jump to conclusions. With something as delicate as this, he would need to get his facts right.
If, as he suspected,
Len really was taking sex in payment for a signature on the tally-book, then he would first raise the matter with Len himself. If that didn’t put a stop to it, he would have to speak with Mr Jacobs. If not to salve his own conscience, he would do it for those women who were genuinely unable to pay; and desperate enough to buckle under Len’s powers of persuasion.
One thing was certain. Even without
the hard evidence that Len was behaving shamefully, Harry’s initial respect for the man who had taken him under his wing, had all too quickly evaporated.
Jackson Street was the last call on their round. ‘We’ve only got three families along here,’ Len explained. ‘Most of the people who live in this street are in business themselves.’
‘Nice area though.’ Harry was impressed by the large Victorian
houses, though one or two of them appeared to be in need of
repair. ‘Pity some of these fine houses have been allowed to fall into ruin though.’
Len agreed. ‘I’m surprised the other residents aren’t up in arms about it.’ He tutted. ‘Unless, of course, they’re the culprits who snapped them up in the first place. Landlords get their rent money come what may, so why spend money when you don’t have
to, eh?’
‘What can be done then?’ Harry asked. ‘Surely somebody has to be held accountable, if they fall into rack and ruin?’
‘Not really.’ Len then gave a glimpse into his own environment. ‘It’s a bit like where I live on the other side of the river. There was a time when my address was one of the best in the area, then the investors moved in. They bought every house that came up for sale.
They extended, made one house into four flats, then they rented them out and sat back to watch their money grow. Over time, the places got run down but the council turned a blind eye, and why not, eh? As long as they keep getting their rates and they’re not asked to foot the bill for repairs, why should they give a monkey’s?’
Harry was deep in conversation with a Mrs Taylor, who was paying ten
shillings a week off a new chest of drawers when an almighty row broke out from a house nearby.
The man’s voice was raised to screaming pitch. ‘IF I EVER FIND OUT YOU’VE CHEATED ON ME, I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL DO FOR YOU!’
A woman could be heard pleading with him not to be silly, saying that she didn’t want to fall out with him. But still he ranted on, spitting rage and out of control.
‘That’ll
be the couple at number 16,’ Mrs Taylor remarked with a groan. ‘Honestly! It’s a wonder them two haven’t killed each other before now. He’s mad as a hatter, completely possessive, and when he gets drunk – which is often – he lays into her real bad.’
‘So why doesn’t somebody do something about it?’ Harry was angry.
‘Don’t think we haven’t tried. One or two people in the street have taken him
to task. But when it comes right down to it, there isn’t a lot you can do, is there? You should never interfere in domestic rows – well, at least, that’s what the police say – and they’ve been out here often enough, I can tell you.’
Harry couldn’t help but wonder. ‘So, if he’s as bad as that, why doesn’t she just up and leave him?’
The woman shrugged her shoulders. ‘Who knows? Bad as he is,
maybe she really loves him. Or maybe she wants to leave and she
hasn’t anywhere to go. Or she hasn’t got any friends or family, because he’s chased them all away?’
‘Well, it sounds like a bad situation and no mistake.’ From a discreet distance, Len had been listening to the conversation. As for the spiralling argument, he didn’t care one way or the other. ‘Maybe they deserve each other, eh?’
‘Maybe.’ Mrs Taylor glanced towards the house where the row was still raging. ‘Truth is, it’s gone on for so long now, she’s got almost as bad as him, with the yelling and the drink and everything. Oh, it’s such a shame. When they first moved into the street, she was such a sweet, quiet little thing; so pretty. These days the sadness in her face is pitiful to see. I do feel sorry for her though.
I mean, day or night she can’t even walk down the street without him chasing after her, bullying and yelling at her. Sometimes he gets her by the scruff of the neck and marches her back to the house.’ She sighed. ‘If you ask me, that young woman’s life, well … it’s like a kind of torture.’
Harry thought about the time in his life when he had done things he could never have envisaged; terrible
things – working in hell-holes, fighting anyone who was up for it, and drinking himself into oblivion. After he’d come out of the Army, he’d become a drifter for a time; gone into a dark place. He had cared for nothing and no one, especially himself. That was the awful truth.
And so he knew all about pain, and that crippling sense of despair that could pull you down to the gutter.
He looked
up at the woman. ‘It sounds to me as if she’s got an uphill climb, if she’s to get away from a situation like that.’
‘You’re absolutely right. Trouble is, it might already be too late.’ Shaking her head, she collected her tally-book from Harry. ‘One of these days it’ll go too far and then there’ll be murder, you’ll see.’ With that she thanked them and closed the door.
As the two men walked down
the street and on towards the car park, they could still hear the full-blown row escalating behind them. ‘Gawd above! What a barney, eh?’ Len laughed. ‘That’ll please the nobs round here, I’ll be bound.’ He slowed his step, so as to hear the row all the better.
The man’s voice was wild with rage. ‘Don’t lie to me, you little slut! If you weren’t giving him the come-on, why would he make a bee-line
for you like that?’
‘I never encouraged him!’ the woman sobbed. ‘I’ve told you, I was just there, and he came over to me. I didn’t know who he was.
I told him to go away and leave me alone. YOU HEARD ME TELL HIM THAT!’
‘YOU’RE A DAMNED LIAR! You encouraged him. I’ve told you before, I’ll lay you out, rather than let any man take you from me.’
There was a sharp sound, like the crack of flesh
on flesh, then the woman was sobbing loudly, pleading with him. ‘I wouldn’t cheat on you. I’ve NEVER cheated on you. No! Get away from me!’
Some kind of struggle followed. ‘NO! Leave me alone! You’re crazy with drink … you’re frightening me! You never believe what I say! WHY WILL YOU NEVER BELIEVE WHAT I SAY?’
There was a span of silence, which alarmed Harry.
‘I think we should check it out,’
he told Len. ‘He sounds like an out-and-out bully! What if he’s hurt her?’ It was the silence that worried him the most. ‘Oh, look, to hell with it, I’m going up there.’
Len was still trying to hold him back when the man started grovelling. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart. I do believe you, really I do.’
‘You
should
believe me.’ The woman was calm enough now. ‘You know I would never cheat on you.’ She
laughed, a painful, hollow sound. ‘I wouldn’t
dare
!’
He laughed with her. ‘You rascal! Come here to me.’ There was another short span of silence and then, ‘Get your glad rags on, pet. I’m taking you out on the town.’
There followed a short burst of teasing and laughter, before the window was slammed shut.
‘See? I told you.’ Len wagged a finger at Harry. ‘Never be too quick to interfere in somebody
else’s argument, unless you want to end up being the villain between ’em.’
Harry nodded. ‘You’re right. That’s one useful lesson I’ve learned today,’ he said light-heartedly.
In fact, it was the second. The first had to do with Len, and unlike the row in the flat above, that particular issue was not yet resolved.
As the two men walked back to the car, the couple emerged from the building.
‘D’you forgive me, sweetie?’ Phil Saunders had lost his temper, and now he was worried that yet again, he had gone too far. ‘I’m sorry I hurt you,’ he whined. ‘Do you forgive me?’
Judy had heard it all before. ‘I forgive you.’
She had not forgiven him though. She never would. But what did it matter? For a long time now, her life had been empty. There was no purpose, nothing to strive for. She
was with a man she could
never love. Phil Saunders craved her heart and soul, but they were already given to another, long ago, in a different life.
She never doubted Phil’s love for her, but his love was a selfish, grasping thing that left no room for tenderness. Possessive and controlling, he had used her shame and loneliness to his own ends. When he was sober they got along, and when he had
been drinking they argued about the minutest of things.
Often the rows erupted into blows, and when they weren’t arguing, he was watching, checking on her, quizzing her about the time she spent away from him. He wore her out, until now, there was no real fight left in her.
Her life was over; finished. She would not care if he ended it here and now.
She had already lost everything precious.
Harry was long gone, and so too, was her beautiful baby.
Nothing mattered to her anymore.
‘T
WO WHOLE DAYS
!’ Stretched out by the pool with the hot September sun blazing down on her, Nancy still had cause to grumble. ‘I never thought we’d have to share the house with
them
for two whole days.’
‘Ssh!’ Afraid that Mac and Rita might hear her, Brian urged, ‘Try and keep your voice down.’ This was the first time he’d had a chance to sit and relax with the racing page,
and besides, he only had an hour to get down to the bookies. There was a horse running today which he was certain would win him a small fortune.
Nancy was still grumbling. ‘They can easily have afforded to go on another flight, so why didn’t they?’
‘Mac already told you – the flight at Manchester Airport was cancelled because of technical problems, and there were no seats available on any other
flights. Just be grateful they decided not to take the refund offered, or we’d have had to share our entire holiday with them – not that I mind one jot.’
‘Well, I do,’ Nancy hissed. ‘Trouble with you is that you’re too easy-going. You don’t think about me and the children. You don’t seem to realise how much we’ve been looking forward to this holiday.’
Brian raised an eyebrow. ‘And you think
I wasn’t?’
‘Oh stop it, you know what I’m saying. I always look forward to coming here, because it’s so far removed from what I’m used to, and besides, the children would have been really disappointed if it had all fallen through.’
‘What! I seem to recall Sammie not wanting to come along in the first place, and even David threatened to stay behind with her.’
‘Yes, well, but then they
were
looking
forward to it, and now it’s ruined.’
Brian shook his head and tutted. ‘For goodness sake, Nancy, don’t be so melodramatic. Mac and Rita are repacking as we speak.
Any minute now they’ll be out the door and we’ll have the place to ourselves. So, there’s no real harm done.’
‘That’s a matter of opinion.’ Lowering her voice to a harsh whisper, she confided, ‘I don’t care much for that wife of Mac’s.’
‘Why? What’s she ever done to you, except lend you her house and home?’
Shrugging her shoulders, his wife gave him a haughty look. ‘I just don’t like her, that’s all.’
‘Right then, you two.’ Mac surprised them when suddenly he appeared next to the pool. Short and stocky with piercing blue eyes and dark greying hair, he was nothing like his older brother Don. ‘We’re off … at long last.’
Nancy
greeted him with a warm smile. ‘I’m sorry you’ve lost two days of your trip.’ While she had no liking for his wife, she had a huge fondness for her Uncle Mac.
‘No matter.’ Coming over to her, Mac gave Nancy a hug. ‘I won’t be the loser,’ he informed her with confidence. ‘The two lost days have been tacked onto the end of our trip, without any expense to me.’ He gave a cheeky wink. ‘Moreover,
I intend going for compensation as well, for the inconvenience and all that.’
Nancy was impressed. ‘Knowing you, I’m sure you’ll get it without any trouble.’
‘Good man.’ Laying down his newspaper, Brian shook Mac by the hand. ‘Have a good trip, and thanks again for letting us stay.’
‘You’re welcome, Brian, any time.’ Glancing about, Mac asked, ‘Where are the kids?’
‘David went off on your
bicycle – that’s all right isn’t it?’ Nancy explained worriedly. ‘You did say he could use it, didn’t you?’
‘Oh, absolutely! In fact, he’s doing me a favour. I haven’t ridden the thing for so long, it’s beginning to rust.’
‘I’ll tell him to give it a good clean when he brings it back,’ Nancy promised.
‘And where’s the lovely Sammie?’ He looked towards the pool. ‘I thought I saw her swimming
just now.’
‘Oh, she’s probably changing.’ Pointing across the garden to the changing-house, Nancy told him, ‘You’d best say cheerio, or she’ll be disappointed.’
‘Right. Well, we can’t have that, can we, eh?’ Making his way to the changing block, he called out her name: ‘Sammie! We’re away now, sunshine.’
He was delighted when the girl came out; barefoot, dressed in white shorts and a pink strappy
top, she looked fresh and pretty.
‘Oh, Uncle Mac!’ She came towards him. ‘Mum said you’d be leaving soon.’
Sliding an arm about her shoulders, he walked back with her. ‘My case is standing in the hallway as we speak. I’m just waiting for Rita to make herself beautiful, then we’ll leave you all to it.’
In fact, it was twenty minutes later when Rita emerged. As always she was immaculate; painted
nails, painted face, and dressed in the most exquisite cream-coloured tailored costume that money could buy. ‘I’ve told her,’ Mac addressed himself to Brian, ‘a car journey to Manchester and then two and some hours in a plane and the suit will be crumpled to buggery. But will she listen? No, she will not!’ He rolled his eyes. ‘But then I’m only a man. What do I know?’
Rita ignored him as always.
‘Enjoy yourselves,’ she told the family as she went from one to the other, depositing fleeting pecks on the cheek. ‘As for you, Sammie, if you can keep it all tidy and not make a mess on my new carpet, you’re welcome to help yourself to my make-up box.’
Sammie thanked her, though she had no intention of delving about in Rita’s personal belongings. Besides, she had her own modest little make-up
bag, and a pretty floral comb she had bought from Bedford Market.
The family waved them off. ‘Have a lovely time!’ Nancy called, and Rita waved a hand out of the car window in acknowledgement. ‘Stupid woman!’ Nancy grumbled as they walked back to the house. ‘All frills and fancies and nothing between her ears.’
Brian was not shocked at her outburst. He was well aware of Nancy’s dislike for her
aunt. ‘That’s not a very nice thing to say,’ he chuckled. ‘Especially after she’s offered Sammie the use of her make-up box.’
‘Huh!’ Nancy did not take kindly to being laughed at. ‘You can talk. You’ve never had a good word to say about Uncle Mac, and yet you’re quite happy to live in his house.’
‘Of course, and why not? Besides, after he’s been so kind as to offer, it would be churlish of me
not to accept.’
‘You don’t like him though, do you?’
‘I never said that.’
‘You don’t need to.’
Brian thought about Mac. ‘I admire his business skills,’ he admitted, ‘and I’m always grateful when he offers us the use of his lovely house …’
‘But?’
‘Truth is, of the two brothers, I have to admit I much prefer your dad.’
‘But Dad’s never made a fortune, and he doesn’t have a cruiser. In fact,
as far as I know, he’s never done anything exciting or adventurous in his entire life.’
When she now stretched herself out on the lounger, Brian took note of her proud, hard-set face and the way she continued to rant and rave, even when she was supposed to be relaxing. There were times when he wondered what he had ever seen in her; and yet when she was younger she had been outgoing and exciting,
and knew exactly what she wanted.
He loved her then, and he loved her still, but now it was different; his feelings for Nancy were more comfortable than exciting.
From his chair, he continued to look at her. ‘Nancy?’
‘What now?’ Sitting up, she handed him the tub of cream. ‘Put some on my back, will you?’
‘I wish you wouldn’t do that.’ Smothering her back in the cream, he then rubbed it in.
‘What d’you mean? Do what?’
‘Measure everyone by their material achievements.’
‘Oh, you mean Uncle Mac? Well, it’s true. You can’t deny, he’s a genius at making money.’
‘Yes, I know that, and I admire him for it. But you need to remember that being able to make pots of money is not necessarily the measure of a man.’
‘Don’t talk in riddles.’
‘I’m just saying … about the way you compared your
uncle to your father. Don is a good man. He’s worked hard all his life and he’s always been there for you. Just because he hasn’t made a fortune, doesn’t mean to say he’s any less of a man because of it.’
Sitting bolt upright, Nancy stared at her husband in surprise. ‘Oh dear. Have I touched a raw nerve?’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘I mean, you’re not just talking about Dad, are you? You’re
thinking of yourself as well – how you’ve worked hard and never made a fortune. You’re jealous of Uncle Mac, that’s it, isn’t it? Go on, admit it, why don’t you?’ Though she was teasing, he detected the note of spite in her voice.
‘Me? Jealous of Mac?’ Embarrassed, he looked away. ‘You’re talking rubbish, Nancy.’
When he pretended to look at the racing page again, she fell silent for a moment,
then took away his paper and held it
from him. ‘It doesn’t matter if you haven’t made a fortune,’ she assured him. ‘You’re my husband and the father of our children, and you’ve always provided for us, so now will you please stop sulking. We’re here to enjoy ourselves. So let that be enough, Brian. Don’t spoil it all by being silly.’
Brian was used to her high-handed manner and today was no exception.
‘Sorry.’ He got out of his chair. ‘You’re right. I’m just feeling inadequate, that’s all. Anyway, I’m bored with just sitting around. I’ll go and see what the others are up to, eh?’
‘Good idea.’
As he walked away, she turned to watch him. ‘You’re a good man, Brian,’ she muttered, ‘but you and my father are two of a kind. You’re both too easily pleased, too afraid to take a chance. Uncle Mac
is another breed of man altogether. He’s a go-getter; a man with a vision.’
She replaced his crumpled paper on the table. ‘If you’d been half the man I wanted you to be, we’d have had some excitement in our dull lives.’ There was more than a hint of bitterness in her voice.
Brian found David and Sammie down by the lake next to the property. ‘Hey!’ Waving to them, he set off at a run. ‘What are
you kids up to?’
Running to meet him, Sammie was excited. ‘Look, Dad, we’ve found this little boat. We were thinking we might use it to go across the lake.’ She pointed to a small rise of earth in the centre of the lake. ‘There are all kinds of birds over there,’ she told her dad. ‘I want to see.’
Brian was concerned. ‘I don’t think you should.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because, first of all, the boat
might not be altogether safe, and secondly, you could frighten the birds away and they might never come back. What’s more, we don’t know who the boat belongs to. We shouldn’t really touch it.’
Sammie hung onto his arm. ‘Oh, go on, Dad. We’ll be careful. You can come too, if you like.’
He thought of Nancy’s scathing words and suddenly his mind was made up. ‘Right! You’re on.’
Having checked
the little boat from bow to stern, Brian set about starting the engine; it leaped into life and soon they were whizzing across the water. ‘It might look like it’s had its day,’ Brian observed, ‘but it seems all right enough to me.’
David was thrilled. ‘Can I have a go at driving it, Dad?’
Though he was really enjoying the experience, Brian showed David the ropes. ‘Slow down as you come close
to the island,’ he warned. ‘We don’t know how deep the water is out here.’
‘Can I take her in, please, Dad?’ Sammie didn’t want to be left out.
‘No, sweetheart, leave it to David. You can bring it back, how about that?’
‘Okay.’ Sammie was happy enough with that.
When they climbed out of the boat and onto the shore, it was immediately evident that the little island was swarming with birds;
the presence of deep droppings underfoot and the noise all around them soon convinced them that they had stumbled on a little bird-Paradise. ‘Go easy, you two,’ Brian warned the children. ‘Some of these birds might be resentful of intruders.’
It was a wonderful experience though.
They came across birds of every kind and colour, and as they tiptoed right around the little island Sammie was filled
with wonder. ‘Look at the flowers and shrubs. Aren’t they amazing!’
Brian thought the island was like a piece of world that had escaped the hustle and bustle of time, where the birds and habitat had been allowed to grow and flourish at will. ‘I wonder if this belongs to Mac and Rita?’ he asked. ‘Is it part of their estate, d’you think?’
David thought it was, but Sammie thought no one should
own such a special place.
When they got back and tried to describe it all to Nancy, she commented: ‘It doesn’t belong to your Uncle Mac. I recall him telling your grandad how he tried to buy it from some old man in the village, but he was having none of it. No matter how much money Uncle Mac offered, he could not get the old man to part with it.’
Brian was secretly glad. ‘His first failure,
eh?’ he thought gleefully. ‘Still, I expect he’ll get his hands on it one day. When Mac wants something, he’ll find a way to get it. He always does.’
As the evening wore on, the children swam and Brian chatted with Nancy, and after dinner, they lazed out on the verandah until Brian fell asleep and Nancy called the children in for bed. ‘Your father’s conked out,’ she teased. ‘Poor old thing. That
boat ride across the lake was all too much for him.’
When he opened one eye and gave her a wicked look, she poked him in the chest. ‘Not so young as you once were, are you, eh pet?’
‘Neither are you,’ he mumbled. He was still smarting from her comparison of Mac with himself and Don.
Business genius or not, Brian believed there was something shifty about Nancy’s uncle. He was nothing like
Don, who was wholesome and straight as the day was long.
Uncle Mac, on the other hand, always got it right, never took no for an answer and, according to Nancy, was a man to look up to.
Well, there was no way that Brian would ever look up to
him
.
In spite of Nancy’s admiration of her dear Uncle Mac, Brian was not impressed with the man, not in any way, shape or form.
Or then again, like Nancy
said, he might be just old-fashioned jealous.
Left alone in the house, Don got to thinking more and more about his younger daughter, Judy.
He thought about her before he went to sleep at night, and she was still on his mind when he woke in the morning.
This morning was no different. The autumn sunshine blazing in through the open window woke him early. He got out of bed, washed, dressed and
cooked an egg and bacon breakfast, which he merely toyed with before throwing in the bin.