Winnie of the Waterfront (29 page)

‘They’ve taken her to Atholl Road you say? Well, do you know what it’s all about?’

Peg shook her head. ‘Not really. They said something about questioning her.’

‘Was it about that accident the other night?’ he asked.

Peg look bemused. ‘I don’t know. Winnie hasn’t told me much about what happened and they never gave her a chance to explain. All she said was that she had to go with them and to tell you where she was.’

‘Why would they want to see her about the accident?’ Sandy repeated, puzzled. ‘We never
reported
it. She wasn’t hurt, only the wheel of her chair buckled. Surely the tram driver didn’t report the incident to the police. He must have known it wasn’t serious.’

‘Perhaps he was afraid that Winnie might do so and he wanted to get his story in first,’ Peg said worriedly.

Sandy ran a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t get it! Why do the police want to interfere over something as trivial as that. Surely they have better things to do with their time.’

‘Once she’s made a statement they’ll probably let her come back,’ Peg said resignedly. ‘I do hope they don’t keep her long. We’ll be starting to fill up in a few minutes and we need all hands on deck at midday, as you very well know.’

‘Don’t worry, Peg, I’ll see to the tables.’

‘And who is going to be on the counter if you’re dashing round serving at the tables?’

‘I’ll do both!’

‘You can’t be in two places at once,’ Peg protested.

‘You watch me! It’s Monday, remember, we’re never all that busy on a Monday.’

Although that was true they were busy enough to keep Sandy on his toes. He was rushed off his feet trying to cope single-handedly.

‘In future we’ll make sure that there is always someone else on duty as well as the three of us,’ he promised when the rush was over and he was giving Peg a hand to wash the dishes.

‘We can manage all right normally,’ Peg pointed out. ‘It’s not likely that Winnie is going to
disappear
to answer questions down at the police station ever again.’

‘True! I would have thought she’d have been back before this. What time did you say she went?’

‘About half past eleven.’ Peg looked at the wall clock and gasped in surprise. ‘It’s half past two now, that means she’s been gone three hours. Why’s it taking that long, Sandy?’

‘I’ve no idea! Can you manage on your own for half an hour while I nip along there to see what’s going on?’

‘Yes, of course I can,’ Peg assured him. ‘You run along. I can’t understand what’s keeping her. Whatever can be wrong?’

‘I’ll probably meet her halfway,’ Sandy said confidently. ‘Perhaps she’s doing a bit of window-shopping on her way back and forgotten all about the time,’ he joked.

‘No,’ Peg shook her head. ‘No, she wouldn’t do anything like that. She knows there’s only the three of us here this morning and she’d hurry back as fast as she could.’

‘So you are Winnie Malloy’s partner,’ Sergeant Baker observed when Sandy enquired where Winnie was.

‘Her name is Winnie Coulson. She’s my wife,’ Sandy corrected him.

‘Ah yes. I forgot that for one moment. You are business partners as well, or so she tells me?’

‘That’s right.’

‘So you do everything together? Then I’m sure you’ll know all about each other’s movements?’

‘Yes, I suppose you could say that,’ Sandy agreed. ‘What exactly is all this about? Why are you keeping my wife here?’

Sergeant Baker drummed the table with his pencil. ‘What do you know about a break-in at a bonded warehouse at Princes Dock on Friday night?’

Sandy looked bewildered. ‘Nothing at all. Why should I?’

‘A very big haul of cigarettes, wasn’t it?’

‘I don’t know! It’s all news to me.’

‘So your wife did it all on her own, did she? Or did she have some other accomplices?’

‘If there was a break-in it has nothing whatsoever to do with her!’ Sandy exclaimed, aghast.

‘That’s where you are wrong. We have evidence that a wheelchair was involved in the operation. Her wheelchair!’

‘That’s bloody rubbish!’ Sandy declared. ‘Leastwise it is if you think it was her, or that she had anything to do with it!’

‘Then perhaps you will answer some questions about your own whereabouts, as well as hers, on the night in question.’

‘Happily! Then you’ll see what a mistake you’ve made. Now, can I see her?’

‘Not until you’ve been interrogated,’ Sergeant Baker rasped.

Peg was almost hysterical by the time Sandy got back to the café.

‘What the hell is going on?’ she demanded. ‘First Winnie and now you doing a disappearing trick.
I
was expecting the police to come for me at any minute.’

‘They still might,’ he told her gloomily.

‘What do mean? And where is Winnie?’

‘They’ve kept her there!’

‘Kept her? Whatever for, what is she supposed to have done?’

‘They’re still questioning her about her movements last Friday night when a robbery took place, and one of the bonded warehouses here on the docks was broken into and some cigarettes stolen.’

‘Well, what has that to do with Winnie? She couldn’t break into a warehouse! It’s as much as she can do to get in a house when the door is wide open! Didn’t you tell them that?’

‘They wouldn’t take any notice. They didn’t seem to believe a word I said. All they kept repeating was that there were tyre marks outside the warehouse that matched those of Winnie’s wheelchair. They seem to think she was involved in some way and they say that they can prove that the box on the back of her wheelchair was used to get the loot away.’

‘It all sounds very stupid to me,’ Peg said disparagingly. ‘Who’d go to all the bother of breaking in to one of those places and then only pinch as much as they could cram into a box that size? Any self-respecting thief would have a van standing by so that they could take a decent haul.’

Sandy nodded in agreement.

Peg removed her apron and reached for her shawl.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Sandy asked
as
she wrapped her black shawl around her shoulders and pulled it up over her head and ears.

‘To Atholl Road of course. I’ll soon put them right,’ she boasted. ‘I’ll tell them that Winnie was at home, the same as I was, and that you were there as well that night.’

‘They won’t listen to you or believe you!’

‘They will when I tell them that Winnie didn’t have her chair that night since it was down at Monk’s place. It was there getting that bloody wheel straightened out, now, wasn’t it!’

‘Peg!’ Sandy swept her up off her feet and swung her round. ‘You’re right! Why didn’t I remember that! You’re right, of course, so that puts Winnie – and me as well – completely in the clear!’

Chapter Thirty-one

ALTHOUGH THE POLICE
were forced to release Winnie, because they had no evidence to prove that she was involved in the break-in, it took almost three weeks before her name was cleared.

The police were relentless in their determination to find the culprit. They were convinced that Winnie’s wheelchair had been used, and by following this up were able to establish that Jack Watts, the young mechanic at Monk’s, had a criminal record, and that he had been involved.

Winnie was so relieved that both her name and Sandy’s had been cleared that she broke down.

‘Come on, luv, you’re in the clear now, you’ve no need to take on so!’ Sandy said, putting his arm around her shoulders.’ ‘You didn’t cry when they arrested you, so why now?’

‘I was hopping mad when they arrested me,’ she gulped tearfully. ‘I was too indignant to cry, even when they put me in that cell!’

‘Yeah! They ought to have apologised to you about that. I don’t reckon they had any right to do that, you know!’ Sandy frowned.

‘Well, it’s all over now. We’ve both got clean slates, and I’m not letting that chair out of my sight ever again,’ she snuffled as she wiped her eyes. ‘Mind, as Peg said to you at the time, they must
have
been nutters to take something as small as that to collect their haul in!’

‘Not so mad as you’d think,’ Sandy told her. ‘That Sergeant Baker said that witnesses who saw them walking along the dockside never gave them a second glance. As safe as houses, a bloke pushing his mate in a wheelchair!’

‘Well, they’re under lock and key now, both that Jack Watts and his accomplice safely locked up in Walton for the next couple of years,’ Sandy gloated.

‘Yes, well let’s put it all behind us, if Sergeant Baker will let us,’ Winnie breathed, ‘and forget all about it.’

‘I’ll drink to that,’ Sandy grinned. ‘I think we should have a night out to celebrate. It’s almost Easter so why don’t we have a day out in New Brighton over the weekend?’

‘Shouldn’t we wait and see what the weather is like before we make any plans?’

‘Fingers crossed the sun will shine.’

‘If it does then New Brighton will be packed solid.’

‘Only the Tower Pleasure Grounds and around the pier.’

‘The boats will be very busy with day-trippers.’

‘We’ll take the Seacombe one then, and I’ll push you all the way from there to New Brighton.’

‘You’d collapse halfway!’ Winnie laughed.

‘We could have a rest when we get to Vale Park. Sit and listen to the band playing and then go on the rest of the way, have a meal, and then catch a boat back from New Brighton Pier. What do you say?’

Winnie’s blue eyes sparkled. ‘Yes please!’

‘That’s settled then!’

‘What about Peg?’

‘She’d never manage to walk that far,’ he grinned.

‘You mean we go on our own?’

‘Yes! She’ll probably be happy to have the house to herself and to be able to put her feet up.’

Peg was more than pleased by the arrangement. Although they now had adequate help at the café she still did a great deal of the cooking and the years were beginning to take their toll. She didn’t want to retire. The idea of being at home on her own all day didn’t appeal to her. Even so, the thought of a whole day to herself, to be able to put her feet up if she wanted to do so, or potter around as the mood took her, really was a holiday as far as she was concerned.

‘Right, Sunday or Monday, depending on the weather,’ Sandy and Winnie finally agreed.

‘That was the most wonderful day ever,’ Winnie sighed as they went to bed on Easter Monday.

‘A bit busy!’ Sandy grinned. ‘But I enjoyed it all the same.’

‘I suppose we should have kept the café open and served drinks to people using the boats on our side of the Mersey. Did you notice the trade they were doing in New Brighton?’

‘I certainly noticed that the ice-cream stall by the pier was working flat out. There was one continual queue waiting to be served, wasn’t there!’

‘There was,’ Winnie agreed. ‘It makes me
wonder
if we should start selling ice-cream.’

‘I don’t know,’ Sandy said cautiously. ‘It’s not really our sort of thing, is it?’

‘It could be. Not many of the children drink tea or coffee.’

‘No, but we have fruit juice and pop for them.’

‘I know, but kids love ice-cream, and those ice-lolly things, especially in summer,’ Winnie cajoled.

‘We’d have to put in extra refrigerators and ice-cream-making equipment. That might be pretty costly.’

‘We could serve ice-cream as a pudding in summer, or as a topping with fruit pies all the year round,’ Winnie persisted.

Sandy laughed. ‘I can see you’ve got your mind set on selling it so I might as well give in.’

‘Well, I really do think it would bring in more customers,’ Winnie went on. ‘Look how it increased our business when we started to stock cigarettes.’

‘Yes, and look at what else happened when we did that!’

‘The break-in at the bonded warehouse was nothing to do with us stocking cigarettes!’

‘No, probably not. It’s just odd that it happened only a very short time after we’d added cigarettes to our stock, though.’

‘I can’t see anyone breaking into one of the cold-storage warehouses simply because we are selling ice-cream,’ Winnie giggled.

‘I didn’t mean that and you know it,’ Sandy told her. Before she could answer he silenced her by grabbing hold of her and kissing her. She
resisted
for one brief moment then submitted with a contented sigh.

‘I do love you,’ Sandy whispered. ‘I was scared stiff when Peg told me they’d taken you along to Atholl Road. I never want another fright like that.’

‘It wasn’t as frightening as getting trapped in that tramline.’

Sandy smoothed back her black curls. ‘That’s one of the reasons why I don’t really want to spend our money on refrigerators at the moment.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well,’ he hesitated, his lips trailing over her forehead, ‘I was hoping we could save up enough to buy a three-wheeler van.’

‘What on earth are you talking about?’ she exclaimed in disbelief.

‘We’d be able to collect things in it much better than loading up your wheelchair,’ he went on persuasively. ‘We’d get twice as much in a small van than we can carry in your chair, and it would be much safer.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed dubiously, ‘I suppose you’re right about that.’

‘It would also mean that you wouldn’t get wet when it rains, wouldn’t it!’

‘Yes, that’s true. It would be warmer in winter, too.’

‘And another thing, we’d be able to give Peg a lift to work each day and back home again at night. I think walking home is almost too much for her at the end of the day.’

‘It’s a great idea, Sandy, but I can’t drive!’

‘Neither can I, but we could both learn to do so.’

‘I couldn’t,’ Winnie protested. ‘I couldn’t use the foot pedals.’

‘I’ve made enquiries about that and they can be adapted so that you use hand controls instead of pedals.’

‘You wouldn’t like to have to drive a van that was fitted out like that,’ she exclaimed.

‘Why not? I’ve never driven any other way so it would seem quite normal to me,’ he smiled.

It was all so much to think about that although she was terribly tired Winnie couldn’t sleep. She kept turning matters over and over in her mind, weighing up the advantages of having a van against expanding their business to include ice-cream.