Live the Dream (24 page)

Johnny.'

'Well, Johnny, I'm glad I was able to help out back there, but you must remember in future, never to go into the road like that. You gave your mummy a terrible fright.'

Confused, Johnny looked up. 'She's
Amy,'
he said. 'She's my best friend, not my mummy.'

'Really?' Thrilled at the news, Luke told the boy, 'Well, in that case you really are a lucky boy in more ways than one.'

'Why?'

'Well, because it's nice to have a best friend.'

Wriggling in the chair, the boy warmed to the conversation. 'Have
you
got a best friend?'

'I suppose I have, yes, but she's not like your Amy.'

'What's she like then?'

'She's very small and very beautiful, with big brown eyes, and she comes to see me every week.'

'Where does she live?'

'In the woods.'

'What's her name?'

'I don't know her real name, but I call her Velvet.'

'When does your friend come to see you?'

Folding his newspaper and laying it down, Luke concentrated on the boy. 'It's always on a Tuesday.'

'Why?'

'Because every other day, I have too much work to do, but on Tuesday I can do whatever I like.'

He thought about his precious hideaway, and for a moment he was tempted to explain to the boy, but as yet his privacy was too precious and instead he talked about his 'friend'. 'Sometimes, when I'm sitting on my steps, she comes and sits with me, and we talk for a while. Then she goes away, to be with her family. But she always comes back another time.'

At that moment, Luke caught sight of Amy. 'I think you'd best go back now,' he suggested.

Emerging from the cloakroom, Amy was intrigued to see Johnny and Luke in earnest conversation and, knowing how the stranger preferred to be left alone, she hurried across to them. 'Johnny! Don't pester the man.'

When Johnny clambered off the chair and came to her side, she said to Luke, 'It seems I owe you another apology. I didn't know he might come over to you or I would never have left him.' She felt herself blushing under his smile. 'He's not usually so friendly,' she added. 'He normally shies away from people.'

'He's good company.' Luke thought she looked especially fetching when she blushed.

Johnny piped up, 'He's got a best friend like you, and I want to see her.' Without taking a breath he turned to Luke. 'Can I see her, can I, please?'

'Johnny!' Amy was horrified. 'Come on now. Your mammy will be back soon.' Holding out her hand she waited for him, but ignoring her, he turned to Luke instead. 'Can we see Velvet,' he persisted, The and Amy?'

There was a moment of silence, when Luke wondered if this once it might not hurt to let someone like Amy and the boy into his special, secret world. But then it wouldn't be secret any more, he cautioned himself.

And yet, Amy was already there, in the painting he had hidden away, and she was in his heart too, another deep, wonderful secret that kept him sane when life was overwhelming.

Looking from the boy to the man, Amy felt her emotions spinning. Something magical was happening, she thought, something she could not explain. She wanted to sit down with this man she hardly knew. She needed to talk with him, to know him, and yet she was half afraid, of him, and of herself.

'I've never seen him take to a stranger the way he's taken to you,' she told Luke now. And to the boy she said, in a firm voice, 'We have to go now, Johnny. Thank the man and say goodbye.'

Some short time later, Luke left, leaving the money on the table, as usual.

'You lost your chance there, lass,' Daisy reprimanded. 'I saw him looking at you, and I know he fancies you.'

Amy laughed, but it was a quiet, hesitant laugh. 'I thought you wanted him for yourself,' she teased, 'and here you are, trying to get me together with him.'

'That's because I've got my Roy now,' Daisy said, all dreamy-eyed. 'He's what I've been looking for…somebody to make a home with, to have babies and make his dinner every night, and sit with him by the fireside of an evening.'

Now, when Daisy looked up, Amy was amazed to see there were tears in her eyes. 'All I want is a real family, and a home, where people don't shout and scream at each other, and I need never be afraid.' Her voice hardened. 'That's my dream, and I know in my heart of hearts Roy can make it come true for me—for us both.'

Realising she was showing her deeper feelings, Daisy gave a nervous little laugh. 'There! I'm getting carried away.' She surreptitiously wiped away her tears.

'I want to see Velvet,' the boy declared. 'She's pretty, like Amy.'

Amy shook her head. 'I don't suppose we'll get any peace now,' she told Daisy jokingly. 'All he'll go on about is Velvet—whoever she is!'

Noticing a customer on the way into the cafe, Daisy stood up. 'Well, whoever this Velvet is, I wouldn't mind meeting her myself,' she told Johnny.

'But Daisy can't see her. Only you and me can see her,' he told Amy.

Wisely dismissing his comment, Amy ruffled his hair, and they waved cheerio to Daisy and left. The rain had stopped and the wind seemed to be settling.

'When's Mammy coming home?' Johnny skipped down the street; but having been frightened by the earlier incident, Amy was careful to keep him on her inside.

'I expect she'll be there when we get back,' she promised, 'and she'll want to know all about your shopping trip, you'll see.'

Arnold Stratton was desperate. 'I don't know how much more I can take in here,' he told Maureen. 'There are some bad buggers in this place…worse than ever I've messed with.' Running his hands through his thinning fair hair, he looked up, his blue eyes stricken. 'I don't mind telling yer, I've been tempted to finish it once or twice.'

Maureen was shocked. 'What d'you mean, "finish it"?' 'What d'you think I mean?' he asked impatiently. 'String myself up, o' course, an' have done with it!'

Maureen was angry. 'That's a dreadful thing to say!' she chided. 'May God forgive you.'

He seemed to be deep in thought for a minute, but when he looked up he shocked her again with his next statement. 'I've been thinking,' he grunted. 'God knows there's not much else you can do in a place like this.' Leaning forward he lowered his voice so it was almost inaudible. '/
reckon it were her husband—Luke Hammond.
For years she's carried on with one bloke after another…they say Luke Hammond were the only one who didn't know. Happen he found out about us, and went for her—meant to kill her mebbe, only it all went wrong and now he's lumbered with a mad woman.'

Maureen was afraid. 'Keep your voice down, Arnie. You're saying a dangerous thing, and you never know who's listening.'

'No, no, lass. I mean it!' He gave a deep groan. 'Mind you, since I've been in this damned place, I've blamed everybody that ever knew her. This time, though, I'm almost certain. Look, lass, if I were guilty, I'd serve the time and be done with it, same as I did afore. But I'm damned well innocent of this one! I'm telling you, there's somebody out there as knows who did the crime. And why was I fitted up—that's what I'd like to know? Who did it to me? What reason had they?'

Maureen didn't want to be dragged into this conversation. She knew her husband's tendency to overdramatize. Sometimes it could be fun; now, though, it was self-pitying. 'I'm sorry, Arnie,' she said. 'It's time to go. They're coming to show us out.' And sure enough the two officers were already descending on them.

As the guard led him away, Arnie blew her a kiss. 'See you next time, lass.'

'Keep your chin up,' she told him. In a minute he was gone and she was being given her umbrella, which had been confiscated on entering. Without fuss or favour, she was then ushered outside.

Feeling low as always whenever she came to see him, Maureen stood by the gates for a time, her mind full of the conversation she had shared with her husband.

'It must be hell,' she muttered, 'to be locked away.' As a husband Arnie had been less than a success, especially when his temper was on him. Clumsy, often tired, late with his tea, losing things and sometimes nagging…she listed her faults. He'd always had an eye for other women but perhaps he had needed to look elsewhere because of her. If she'd just tried a bit harder…

She looked up and down the street as though expecting someone to leap out and march her back inside to share her husband's punishment.

'Where to, lady?' A cabbie drew up alongside her, seizing his opportunity.

'I don't need a cab, thank you very much,' Maureen told him, 'not when there's a perfectly good tram service.'

'How much is the tram compared to my cab?' he asked. 'Not much more than the price of a cuppa tea, I'll bet.'

'So, how much will it cost me to Derwent Street?' she enquired.

The cabbie looked her up and down. He saw how she was down at heel and straight out from visiting some poor sod in gaol. 'Go on then,' he answered.I'll run you there for a tanner. How's that?' i Maureen did a mental calculation and realised he was doing her a good enough deal. 'All right, Derwent Street it is.' Taking a great gulp of fresh air she climbed in.

All the way there he talked: about the state of the nation and how, unless the heads of government got their thinking together sooner rather than later, they'd all be heading for a second world war. He talked about a recent visit to London, and how horses and carriages were becoming rarer and rarer. 'Soon, there won't be a horse on the streets, and that'll be a proper shame,' he complained.

'There are still horses and carriages round here,' Maureen observed. 'And we still have the milk brought round by horse and cart.'

He had an answer for that too. 'Ah, well,' he commented smugly, 'this is the North, and they do say as the North is allus lagging behind. But I'm glad of it, and so should you be. Things are changing too damned fast, if you ask me.'

Before they reached Derwent Street, Maureen was informed of the 'crippling, rising prices'. 'These days, if you want a smart suit for going out somewhere special, you've to pay as much as two pounds. And look at the picture house. Only last year, you could sit through a three-hour picture for sixpence. Now you've to pay eightpence. Prices never go down, they allus bloody well go up, if you'll excuse the language…'

By the time he dropped her off, Maureen would have 'excused' him anything to let her out of his cab. 'I don't suppose you can afford a tip as well,' he griped, holding out the fare in the palm of his hand.

'Sorry,' she said. 'I can't afford tips.'

'Well, then, good luck to you, and mind how you go.'

'You too.' She waved him off with a smile on her face. 'It was a good try, I'll give you that,' she told the rear end of his cab as he went away up the street. Then she hurried into the shop.

'Hello, Maureen.' Marie was at the till, serving a customer. 'Our Amy's in the back, if you want to go through?'

After thanking Marie and enquiring about her busy day, Maureen made her way to the living quarters.

'Mammy, Mammy!' On seeing her in the doorway, little Johnny ran to her. The and Amy went to see Daisy, and the man who got me out of the road was there and he told me about his friend…'

He would have gone on, but Maureen quietened him down. 'Not so fast,' she laughed. 'What's all this about the man "getting you out of the road"?' That was the one remark that registered. 'What were you doing in the road in the first place?' She raised a quizzical gaze to Amy, who quickly _ explained.

Once she was armed with the facts of the matter, Maureen could see that it was no one's fault really. 'It's a good job this man was there,' she said. 'And as for you, lad,' she wagged a finger at her son, 'you'd best do as you're told in future and stay close to Amy.'

Uncomfortable, the boy looked from one to the other. 'I won't run out again,' he promised.

'Now then, what's all this about a friend?' Maureen gave him a hug.

Growing excited, Johnny explained, 'She's called Velvet, and one day me and Amy are going to see her. You can come too if you like?'

'I should think the poor man has seen enough of you, without taking you to meet his friend,' Maureen said. 'And here you are,, inviting me and Amy into the bargain.'

'The man won't mind,' Johnny assured her. 'He's nice.' He then returned to his toy train and Amy made Maureen a cup of tea.

They had just settled down for a long chat, and Amy was coming round to ask Maureen if she'd found suitable work, when Marie came rushing in. 'The shop's getting busy,' she told Amy. I'm sorry, love, I know I gave you the day off, but I'd appreciate your help just for an hour or so.'

Amy leaped up. 'Aw, Mam, you should have called me earlier.'

Marie sighed with relief. 'Thanks, love. Oh, I nearly forgot, Maureen,' she added. 'There's a man in the shop to see you. I think he said he were a cabbie.'

Leaving Johnny to his playing, both women followed Marie out to the shop, Amy to help serve the customers, and Maureen to see who wanted her.

On seeing Maureen come across the room, the taxi driver stepped forward. 'I found this. I knew it must be yours 'cos you were the last fare I picked up.' Handing her the umbrella, which she had not missed, he went on, 'It was caught up in the offside door…'

Shifting his gaze to Amy, who had just dropped a packet of sugar, he told her with a grin, 'Your mate here were in a right state when I picked her up from outside the prison. All white and shocked she were, as if she might faint any minute. No wonder she weren't thinking right when she climbed into the cab.'

Deeply shamed, Maureen none the less had to thank him. 'Do I owe you anything?' All she wanted was to be rid of him. She propelled him towards the door. 'I mean, what with you having to come back and all…how much d'you want?' All she had in her pocket were two small coins, but he could have them if only he'd bugger off, she thought angrily.

'Keep your coppers in yer pocket, it's all right,' he answered. 'I were in this neck o' the woods anyway. Got a fare to collect from Penny Street.' With that he bade her goodbye and hurried off 'to earn a crust or two', as he put it.

It wasn't only Amy who had been in the vicinity when he mentioned how Maureen had been to the prison; it was also Marie and the customer she was serving—though Mr Wagner was deaf as a post, his hearing destroyed by a shell explosion in the war, and he wouldn't hear the ceiling come down, not even if it fell right on top of him.