The Girl from Cotton Lane (28 page)

Time was called and as the customers trooped out of the pub Broomhead Smith was feeling courageous. The drinks had taken effect and he had been angered by the big woman’s nagging at her inoffensive little husband. Alice had been nagging at him all evening too and he had suddenly lost all desire to see her bedroom anyway. He had stood her domineering ways for weeks now and it was time he stood up for himself, he thought as she took his arm outside the pub.

‘I was talkin’ ter that little feller at the counter, Alice. Did yer see ’im?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, that was Tommy Blackwell. ’E’s a bit of a cowson, by all accounts,’ she replied. ‘Tommy’s ole woman’s frightened ter move wivout ’is say-so. Bloody size of ’er an’ all. Mind yer though, ’e’s bin a bit of a rogue in ’is time. ’E used ter do a bit o’ boxin’, an’ I ’eard ’e done time fer nickin’ from the docks. Size ain’t everyfing.’

Broomhead grunted his reply as they walked along Page Street. He was preparing himself for a heart-to-heart talk. He would merely say that he was going to end their relationship, such as it was, and if she didn’t like it . . . well, she could do her worst. He would have to remind her first though, that the policeman who stopped him when he was running away from her that Saturday had asked him for her name and address, and she should take that into consideration if she decided to come looking for him with a carving knife.

‘I was talkin’ ter Mrs Knight while yer was up the counter,’ Alice said suddenly. ‘She was sayin’ one of the women in ’er turnin’ got ’er froat cut last night. ’Er ole man done it. She said they ain’t caught ’im yet, so the local bobby told ’er. Went stark ravin’ mad ’e did. The copper told ’er ter make sure she puts the bolt on ’er door at night in case ’e comes back an’ decides ter cut ovver women up.’

Broomhead mumbled a reply, still preoccupied with what he was going to say, and as they reached Alice’s door he took a deep breath. ‘Look, luv ,’ he began, ‘I know yer not one ter get upset very easy but I’m worried about fings. I fink we should upset very easy but I’m worried about fings. I fink we should seriously consider what’s bin ’appenin’ an’ try ter sort fings out.’

Alice smiled at him, the first time she had smiled in that fashion for weeks, he noted.

‘Bill Smith, yer a very nice man. Fancy yer finkin’ about me bein’ worried by that maniac at large. C’mon,’ she said, taking him by the arm and almost dragging him through the front door.

Broomhead sighed as he allowed himself to be pushed into her cosy parlour. The fire was burning low in the grate and the curtains were tightly drawn against the chilly night. Oh, well. There’s another day tomorrow, he told himself.

Chapter Sixteen

Carrie had been preoccupied with the building work going on at the dining rooms, and serving behind the counter, ordering supplies, keeping the books in order and caring for her husband and Rachel left her little time for anything else, but occasionally she would think about Annie McCafferty and wonder how she was getting on at the clinic. Since that one visit Annie had not put in an appearance, and Carrie wondered if the young Irishwoman had met up with Billy Sullivan. She had been interested enough to ask about him and Carrie felt that after the sad time she must have experienced over in Dublin Annie deserved to find some happiness. Billy was a good young man, and he had once shown an interest in Carrie, though that was all in the past. She had considered him forward then and only interested in her body, but she was old enough now to realise that he was probably just like all other young men finding their feet. Billy had only walked out with her on that one occasion and he had tried his luck as they lingered near the river, she remembered, smiling to herself. He had been embarrassed by her angry reaction as they walked back home, but although he had never asked her out again after that they had remained friends.

Carrie’s busy life was making her feel tired and jaded, and she found herself snapping at her husband for the least little thing. Fred was turned fifty now and his hair had gone completely grey. He had always been given to nodding off at the fireside for half an hour or so after a busy day but lately he had been sleeping for the best part of the evening and then going to bed early. Carrie was left alone with her thoughts most evenings and after the chores were done she would sit by the fire with a cup of tea and think about where her life was going. She was nearing her thirty-fourth birthday and already she could see the odd line or two showing around her eyes when she studied her face in the mirror. She had given up worrying about becoming pregnant again, however. Fred was very rarely awake when she got into bed and on the odd occasion he did show any interest in her as a woman he would fail to satisfy her needs. She had fretted over her failure to excite and arouse him at first, but all the hard work and the worry of the business had taken their toll and left her feeling tired and empty.

Sometimes she would sit remembering her first lover, Tommy Allen, who had now married and become a father. Sometimes she would sit staring into the glowing coals and fantasise. Don Jacobs, the middle-aged dockers’ leader, was always very talkative and forthcoming with her. He was a handsome man with considerable charm, and he had parted from his wife through her infidelity, so word had it. Fred had often become moody and surly through her spending time in Don’s company when he came into the cafe, and he suspected that the union leader was eager to get her into his bed. Carrie had rowed with Fred over his jealousy, but on her lonely nights she wondered if there was an element of truth in what he feared, and she wondered what it would be like to have Don Jacobs as a lover.

Billy Sullivan had made up his mind that he was going to settle down and he told his mother as much over the tea table. ‘Ma, I’m gonna get married,’ he suddenly announced.

Sadie nodded and carried on re-sealing the margarine. Daniel her husband looked over his evening paper and wondered whether Billy had gone out of his mind, while Billy’s younger brother Joe decided that he definitely had. ‘Yer gotta get yerself a woman first, yer silly git,’ he said quickly.

Sadie picked up the bread knife and pointed it at Joe in a threatening manner. ‘What ’ave I told yer about blasphemin’ round the food table?’ she growled at him.

‘Carrie Tanner reckons I should get married,’ Billy went on regardless. ‘I could ’ave married ’er once. She liked me enough ter marry me but I was too interested in me boxin’.’

‘I reckon it was the worst day’s work you ever done lettin’ ’er go,’ Sadie remarked. ‘That gel’s made that cafe into a really good business. ’Er ole man wasn’t doin’ all that well before she took it over. Nellie Tanner was tellin’ me ’er Carrie’s got a good ’ead on ’er shoulders when it comes ter business matters.’

‘Well, anyway, I’m gettin’ married,’ Billy said again.

‘Anybody in mind?’ Sadie asked.

‘It ain’t Dirty Dora from Bacon Buildin’s, is it?’ Joe asked, feigning horror.

‘I’ve warned you,’ Sadie hissed.

Joe put up his hands. ‘P’raps one of us never explained fings properly ter Billy,’ he grinned, looking over at his father.

Daniel was never alive to a conversation when he was reading his evening paper and he jumped when Sadie shouted at him. ‘Oi, Dan! Are yer gonna sit there wivout sayin’ anyfing?’

‘What d’yer want me ter do, book the church ’all?’ he growled.

‘Well, I’m definitely gettin’ married,’ Billy said. ‘I’m gonna ask Annie McCafferty out soon as I can.’

‘Sounds like a good Irish Catholic name,’ his father remarked, feeling he should at least try to show some interest.

‘S’posin’ she don’t want ter go out wiv yer,’ Joe said, holding his tea mug up to his lips.

‘I’m gonna marry that gel one day,’ Billy informed them.

‘Well, yer’ve got a job at least,’ Sadie said, beginning to feel that perhaps her eldest son was being serious for a change.

‘I’m gonna see ’er termorrer an’ I’m gonna ask ’er out,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m jus’ tellin’ yer now so yer’ll all know.’

‘’Ow can yer see ’er if yer workin’?’ Sadie asked.

‘Well, we’ve got a job on near the church where Annie works an’ I’m gonna slip away fer ’alf an hour ter see ’er,’ he explained.

‘She’s not a sister, is she?’ Joe asked.

‘Annie works in the children’s clinic at the church. She’s one o’ those welfare nurses who look after the kids,’ he told them.

‘Well, I wish yer luck, son,’ Sadie said fondly.

‘Yeah, good luck,’ Joe repeated, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

‘Yeah, good luck,’ Daniel mumbled, scanning the winners of the Ascot race meeting.

‘Is my ovver shirt ready fer termorrer, Ma?’ Billy asked.

‘I’ve gotta put a patch in it,’ Sadie replied, and seeing his disappointment added quickly, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll do it before I go ter bed.’

Sadie was as good as her word and next morning Billy went off to work whistling. It was late morning when he slipped away from the site and crossed the road to the church. He found the clinic entrance, and taking a deep breath he walked in to the sound of babies wailing.

‘Yes?’

Billy stared at the stern-looking nursing sister. ‘I’ve, er, I’ve come about me baby,’ he said hesitantly.

‘Yes?’ the sister said again in a deep voice, making Billy feel nervous.

‘Well, yer see, it’s like this,’ he began. ‘It’s not my baby really, but it belongs to a very good friend o’ mine an’ she’s too scared ter come ’erself.’

‘You can tell your friend that there’s nothing to be frightened of here, young man,’ the sister replied.

‘Yeah, but the problem is, if she brought the baby ’ere ’er ’usband would knock ’er about,’ Billy told her.

‘Oh, I see,’ she said, clasping her hands together. ‘Is the baby ill?’

‘Not really. It’s the farvver that’s ill,’ Billy explained, after the sudden urge to laugh.

‘Then he should see his doctor, surely,’ the sister replied.

‘The trouble is, ’e’s a bit sick up ’ere,’ Billy said, pointing to his head, ‘an’ it’s the baby that’s sufferin’.’

‘Are we talking about malnutrition, or is it ill-treatment, or both?’ she asked.

‘Nah, it’s not that. The baby won’t stop cryin’ an’ its ole man keeps sayin’ ’e’s gonna chuck it out o’ the winder one o’ these days.’

‘I see,’ the sister replied, taking up a notepad. ‘Give me the address of your very good friend and I’ll get one of our nurses to call around.’

‘Well, it’s a bit tricky, yer see,’ Billy said, beginning to feel more confident. ‘If my friend’s ole man finds out I’ve come ter see yer it’ll be me ’e chucks out o’ the winder.’

‘This friend of yours seems to be married to a very violent man,’ the sister remarked, putting down her pen. ‘Look, Mr - er . . .’

‘Smedley. Fred Smedley,’ he said quickly.

‘Well, look, Mr Smedley. Unless you give me your friend’s address there’s little we can do to help. You’ll be fully protected. We never give the source of our information in cases like this.’

Billy scratched his head in a show of uncertainty. ‘I understand that,’ he said nodding, ‘but yer see I’m frightened fer the poor lady that ’as ter go round ter see ’im. The baby’s farvver could quite easily attack ’er, an’ I’d blame meself.’

The nursing sister was beginning to lose her patience. ‘Well, I think you’ve got to make your mind up what you intend to do if you want to help this friend of yours,’ she said sharply. ‘You come in here to report a case of neglect and then waste my time by refusing to give me the necessary details. I suggest that either you give us the address or you leave. Am I making myself clear, Mr Smedley?’

Billy nodded sheepishly. ‘I was wonderin’ if I could ’ave a word wiv the welfare lady who comes round our way. Then I could arrange wiv ’er the best time ter call. I could get the ’usband out the way while she talks ter the baby’s muvver. That way nobody would get ’urt.’

‘This is most unusual,’ the sister replied.

‘P’raps it is but it’s the best I can do,’ Billy told her with an appealing look on his face.

‘Well, at least tell me the name of the street,’ she urged.

‘Page Street,’ he replied.

‘Wait here a minute and I’ll see if the nurse is in the building,’ the sister informed him sternly.

Billy looked at the health posters around the cream-coloured room and glanced up at the high window. He could smell disinfectant and it reminded him of the room he was taken to when he received a badly gashed eyebrow while boxing and had to have it stitched.

It was not long before the sister returned and Billy’s face dropped as he saw with her a huge woman in a navy blue uniform coat which was buttoned up to the neck. She was carrying a black handbag in her gloved hands and on her head there was a wide hat with a badge at the front.

‘This is Nurse Carmody. She’ll talk to you,’ the sister said, going back to sit at her desk.

‘Come along with me, young man,’ the nurse ordered him in a booming voice, leading the way into a side room.

There were two chairs beside a small table and Nurse Carmody motioned for him to sit down. ‘Sister Jones has put me in the picture. Now let me get this straight,’ she said loudly in an official voice. ‘You want me to play hide-and-seek while you lure the father out of the house and then I can talk to the baby’s mother. Am I right?’