Try a Little Tenderness (44 page)

Cynthia hopped on a tram at Everton Valley and took a seat by the window. And as she swayed with the movement of the tram, the shops and buildings that flashed by were just a blur. She was deep in thought, going over and over her plan. She’d worked it out to the last detail, but would it be as easy in reality? It had to be; she desperately needed it to be successful so her mind would be cleansed and she could put the whole incident behind her. She’d never forget, but it wouldn’t be nagging away in her head every day and
night. And she wouldn’t be looking at every boy with suspicion.

‘Walton Church next stop,’ the conductor called as he rang the bell.

Cynthia stepped down from the tram and began to walk back to the street with a pub on one corner and a sweet shop on the other. She stopped before she reached the corner and put on her father’s glasses before pulling the scarf down to cover her hair. No one would have given her a second glance; she looked like a dowdy, middle-aged housewife. She couldn’t see out of the glasses clearly so she bent her head and peered over the rims as she turned the corner of the street. She glanced briefly up at number fifteen as she passed, noting that the house seemed well-kept, with bright windows and clean steps, but kept on walking until she came to number fifty-five. Then, settling the glasses straight on her nose, she lifted the knocker.

The woman who opened the door was middle-aged with a happy face and ginger hair. ‘Yes, can I help yer?’

Her eyes squinting, Cynthia asked, ‘Is Larry in, please?’

‘There’s no Larry here, queen, yer’ve got the wrong house.’

‘Oh, I’m sure me dad said fifty-five.’ Cynthia held the envelope out. ‘He asked me to bring this letter, but he hasn’t put the address on. It’s just got Larry on the front.’

‘I’ve got it now,’ the woman said, smiling. ‘It’ll be Larry Langton, he’s the only Larry I know. He lives up the road at number fifteen. But he won’t be in now, he’ll be at work.’

‘Perhaps his wife will be in?’

‘She’ll be at work, queen, and the kids are at school. If yer come back tonight, they’ll all be in.’

‘I couldn’t do that, I’ve come all the way from Bootle.’ Cynthia lifted the glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘I’ve got a splitting headache with these glasses. I need new ones but I can’t afford them.’

‘Why don’t yer pop the letter through their letter box,
queen, save anyone having to make that long journey?’

‘I don’t think me dad would like that. He said to be sure to give it to Larry or his wife. In fact, he thought Larry would be at work, and he told me to give it to his wife. If I tell him I went to the wrong house in the first place, and then put it through a letter box, he’ll have me guts for garters.’

‘Then give me the letter and I’ll nip up with it when Doreen gets in. That’s his wife, and she works until three o’clock.’ The woman held out her hand. ‘My name’s June Lawson, by the way, queen. What’s yours?’

‘Ooh, isn’t that funny, my name’s June, too!’ Cynthia was thinking fast as she passed the letter over. ‘June Hardcastle.’

‘Right, I’ll let Doreen know yer called and she can tell Larry. Yer can promise yer dad he’ll definitely have the letter in his hand as soon as he gets home. Is there any other message, queen?’

‘No, I don’t even know this Larry, it’s me dad what knows him.’ Cynthia turned to walk away. ‘Thanks very much, yer’ve saved me life.’

‘Think nothing of it, queen, ye’re welcome.’ June Lawson watched her walk away. A spinster from the looks of her, she thought. And a downtrodden one at that. Seemed her father had the whip hand. She closed the door and gazed down at the envelope. Why the hell couldn’t the old man have posted it, save putting his daughter to all that trouble? Whatever was in the ruddy letter couldn’t be that important.

When Cynthia heard the door close, she speeded up her steps. The glasses were discarded and thrust in her pocket. The deed was done now and the sooner she got away from here the better. By tonight, Larry’s wife, and Jeff’s too, with any luck, would know what their husbands got up to. For Doreen was sure to do as Cynthia expected and open the letter as soon as she got in. After all, she wouldn’t see any harm in reading a letter that had been hand-delivered, and curiosity would be bound to get the better of her. However,
what she would find inside would shake her to the core. First was the date when her husband and his friend had picked up two young girls in a pub and taken them down an entry. The pub was named and a description of the girls given. Then Doreen would read about the woman who was dragged struggling down an entry by her husband and Jeff, and how they were in the act of raping her when two men who were passing came to her aid. This was the night their husbands had come home badly bruised and beaten up. Their injuries had been inflicted by the two men who didn’t take kindly to rapists. Again the date was given and the name of the pub.

Cynthia had not given details of her own ordeal for fear of being found out as the writer of the letter. But she had written that the incidents mentioned were only two of many, and that Larry and Jeff were nothing but evil bullies and rapists, unfit to be members of the human race.

While Cynthia was waiting at the tram stop, she told herself it was too early to go home without awkward questions being asked. She’d go into town and have a cup of tea at the Kardomah. She realised with surprise that the tension had left her body and her heart felt lighter than it had done in months. Please God it would stay like that and the dark moods were a thing of the past.

When the tram came and she jumped on board, the conductor was standing on the platform talking to the driver. He held out his hand, asking, ‘Where to, love?’

She smiled as she handed him two pennies. ‘A single to Church Street, please.’

Doreen Langton closed the door on June and looked down at the letter in her hand. ‘I bet he’s been backing the gee-gees and owes the bookie money.’ She walked through to the living room and stood the letter up on the mantelpiece. She was alone in the house, the children wouldn’t be in from school for another half-hour. ‘I’ll break his bloody
neck for him, if that’s the case. What’s the point in me going out to work to earn a few bob if he’s going to squander it on bloody horses?’

It was anger and curiosity that had her reaching for the letter. ‘He’s not likely to tell me,’ she muttered, her finger slitting the top of the envelope, ‘so I’ll find out for meself.’

As the words on the paper sunk in, Doreen began to sway and held on to the table for support. Her face drained of colour, she read the letter again to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. Then, her voice choked, she cried, ‘My God, they could go to prison for this! The bastards! The no-good bleedin’ bastards!’ Her mind whirled as she gazed around the room. Perhaps it wasn’t true. It was someone’s idea of a joke. But even as she thought it, she knew it was no joke. Her husband and his mate were selfish swines, they thought only of themselves. Her and Iris, Jeff’s wife, could be skint through the week, with no money for food, but the two men made sure they had their beer and ciggie money, and a few bob for the gee-gees.

Doreen looked down at the sheet of paper in her hand. Her husband had pulled some stunts in their married life, but nothing had prepared her for this. If the police found out, he and his mate would spend the rest of their lives in prison. And what shame that would bring on the family. She wouldn’t be able to look anyone in the face. The best thing she could do would be to go over and show the letter to Iris before anyone else told her what their husbands got up to.

Iris had a smile on her face when she opened the door. ‘This is a surprise, I wasn’t expecting yer.’

‘I’ve got a bigger surprise for yer, kid, and it’s not a pleasant one.’ Doreen brushed past her and walked into the living room. ‘Are the kids home yet?’

Iris shook her head. ‘Another ten minutes or so.’

There was no time to spare, so Doreen just handed the letter over. ‘Take a grip of yerself and read that.’

The silence lasted just a few seconds, then all hell broke loose. ‘I’ll break his bleedin’ neck for him.’ Iris was beside herself. ‘I won’t even bother to ask him if it’s true because I know it is. The number of times I’ve smelt powder or scent on him, and he’s always laughed it off. Well he’ll not laugh this off, ’cos I’ll bleedin’ kill the swine.’

‘Calm down, Iris, and let’s talk before the kids come in. We don’t want them to know about things like this.’ Doreen put her arm across her friend’s shoulder. ‘What I’m worried about is that whoever wrote that letter might not be the only one who knows what they get up to. It might only be a matter of time before the police find out. And I’m not staying around to be shamed in front of all the neighbours. So first thing tomorrow I’ll be looking for somewhere else to live, well away from here.’

‘And what are yer going to do about Larry?’ Iris had a quick temper at the best of times and right now it was ready to boil over. ‘I’ll kill my feller when he gets in.’

‘I won’t do anything until the kids are in bed. Then I’ll give him the hiding of his life to get this hurt and anger out of me system, and to pay him back for what he did to those girls. After that, if he’s capable of listening, then I’m going to lay the law down. The Tuesday and Thursday nights out are a thing of the past. I want extra housekeeping money off him. I will not sleep in the same bed as him, I’ll sleep with the kids. And if he doesn’t want to move to another area, I’ll go on me own with the kids. I can get a full-time job to keep us.’ Doreen waved the letter under Iris’s nose. ‘And all the time this letter will be in me hand. I’ll put the fear of God into him by saying I’m so disgusted it wouldn’t take much for me to go to the police and turn him in.’

They heard children’s voices and Doreen quickly folded the piece of paper. ‘Keep yer temper in check until the kids are in bed. It wouldn’t be fair on them to hear you and Jeff having a slanging match.’

Iris nodded. ‘I’ll come down with yer tomorrow to the
landlord’s office and we can ask for a transfer. We shouldn’t have any trouble because we’ve always paid our rent on time. We’ve been good tenants.’

Three weeks later the two families moved out. And they didn’t leave a forwarding address.

Chapter Twenty-One

‘Spring is in the air, girl,’ Amy said cheerfully as she linked Mary’s arm. ‘The first day of April, the sky is blue and the sun is doing its best to come out.’

‘I’m not sorry to see the back of the bad weather, it’s been a hard winter. We needn’t light the fire first thing in the morning soon, so we’ll save a few bob on coal.’

Amy pretended to smooth down the front of her coat before pulling Mary to a halt. ‘Ay, girl, has the elastic gone in yer knickers? They’re hanging down.’

Mary’s mouth dropped open in horror. She looked down at her legs, front and side, and frowned. ‘I can’t see nothing.’

Amy’s cackle could be heard from one end of the street to the other. ‘Ever been had, girl? April fool!’

‘Oh God, I fell for it again. Every year yer do it, so wouldn’t yer think I’d have learnt by now? The best of it is, I was going to tell yer something when we left our house, but I better not say anything now because yer won’t believe me.’

‘Why won’t I believe yer, girl?’

‘Because yer’ll think I’m pulling yer leg.’

‘Nah, I wouldn’t, girl, ’cos ye’re not quick enough to catch me out.’

‘Well, yer’ve got a flaming big hole in the heel of yer stocking and it’s got about ten ladders running from it, right up yer leg.’

Amy leaned heavily on Mary’s arm as she bent one leg backwards, then the other. ‘I’m blowed if I can see anything.
Yer must be imagining things, girl.’

‘I’m not imagining I’ve just made an April fool of yer, sunshine.’

‘Well, I’ll be buggered! First time, eh, girl?’

‘I’m a bit slow on the uptake, sunshine, but I get there in the end.’ Mary pressed on her friend’s arm and they carried on walking. ‘I hope yer don’t start any shenanigans in the shops, with yer April fool. Not everybody appreciates your humour.’

‘Stop yer worrying, girl, it gives yer wrinkles and puts years on yer.’

While Mary entered the butcher’s shop with trepidation, Amy was full of the joys of spring.

‘Good morning, Wilf, I hope we find yer hale and hearty on this lovely day?’

‘I’m fine, thank you, ladies. Whether I’ll be fine by the time you leave, well, that remains to be seen.’

‘Have yer got a pound of beef sausage, Wilf?’

The butcher leaned in the window and lifted a string of sausages. He counted out how many he thought would be the right weight, cut them free from the rest and threw them on the scales.

Mary was growing uneasy. ‘Yer told me yer were having brawn tonight,’ she whispered in Amy’s ear, ‘with egg and chips.’

‘That wasn’t no lie, girl, that’s what we’re having.’

‘Well, why have yer asked for a pound of beef sausage?’

Wilf heard what was said and his hand hovered over the scale as he waited for the bane of his life to answer.

‘I didn’t say I
wanted
a pound of beef sausage, girl, I only asked if he
had
a pound of beef sausage. Just taking an interest in his business, like, yer see.’

It was Mary who thought an apology was in order. ‘I’m sorry about that, Wilf, but if it’s any consolation she caught me out, too.’

‘That’s all right, Mary.’ Wilf threw the sausages back on
the tray in the window. ‘I wasn’t doing anything, anyway. Before you came in I was just standing here catching fleas.’

Amy couldn’t speak for laughing. She banged on the counter as she roared her head off. ‘Nice one, Wilf. Ooh, I like that! Just standing catching fleas. I’ll have to remember that one. Wait until I tell my Ben, he’ll laugh his little cotton socks off.’

‘I would prefer yer not to repeat that, Amy,’ Wilf said. ‘Some of my customers wouldn’t see the joke and it’d be around the neighbourhood in no time that I had fleas.’

The floorboards began to shake with the weight of Amy’s heaving body. Mary and Wilf looked on with smiles on their faces, wondering what she was going to come out with that was so funny she couldn’t stop laughing. Eventually she drew herself up to her full four feet ten and a half inches, sniffed up and wiped a hand across her eyes. ‘Ooh, it did me a power of good, that. Better than a dose of salts any day.’

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