Backstreet Child (23 page)

Carrie gave Joe the smile he was waiting for. It was true, she thought. The leather contract was safe for at least another year and it provided the occasional extra load or two per week, now that the leather factories were supplying the armed services. Both the new Foden lorries were being used on regular contracts with local food factories, which guaranteed her a regular petrol ration. Things could be much worse, she had to admit.

Heavy footsteps sounded on the cobbles outside followed by familiar whistling which brought a happy smile to Carrie’s face. Her younger brother Danny was always a very welcome visitor to the yard, though his visits were usually very brief.

‘Wotcher, folks,’ Danny said as he came in, grinning broadly. ‘I’m jus’ orf ter work. Any chance of a cuppa? I’ve got ’alf an hour ter spare.’

Joe got up from his seat and motioned towards the house. ‘Come on over an’ spread yerself in front o’ the fire fer a few minutes. I’ll put the kettle on,’ he said cheerfully.

Ten minutes later Jamie Robins left to go home for his lunch and Carrie locked the office and joined the two men who were chatting in the cosy parlour.

‘We’re gettin’ more barges comin’ upriver than ever,’ Danny was saying. ‘Mind you, a lot o’ the cargoes are bein’ transhipped from the ocean-goers onto trampers round the coast. They’re frightened the big ships are gonna get trapped in the London docks if the bombin’ starts.’

‘’Ow’s Iris an’ the children?’ Carrie asked as she reached for the teapot.

‘They’re fine, apart from young Charlie,’ Danny replied. ‘’E’s got tonsillitis.’

‘Don’t let on ter Mum,’ Carrie warned him. ‘She’ll be tellin’ yer about those bread poultices she used ter put on us when we’ad sore froats.’

‘Joe was tellin’ me she’s not bin feelin’ ’erself lately,’ Danny said. ‘I’ll pop up an’ see ’er before I leave.’

Carrie stirred her tea thoughtfully for a few moments then she looked up at her brother. ‘We’re worried about young Rachel,’ she said, frowning. ‘She’s gone off somewhere. She left at breakfast time, said there was somethin’ she ’ad ter do. She’s still takin’ the news about Derek very badly.’

Danny shook his head sadly. ‘Bloody shame that. I only met’im once. ’E seemed a nice young lad.’

Joe poked at the fire and then leaned back in his chair. ‘’Ow’s those next-door neighbours of yours, Danny?’

The rugged features of the lighterman broke into a grin as he looked up from the fire. ‘They’re a bloody weird mob, that lot,’ he replied. ‘Mind you though, they’re no trouble to us. In fact the kids ’ave made friends wiv their tribe. Dolly Dawson an’ my Iris get on very well, though the woman’s a real nosy ole cow.’Er ole man’s the street warden. ’E tried ter sell us some blackout stuff the ovver day. Said it was the best yer could get. Bloody stuff was useless.’ Carrie and Joe exchanged smiles as Danny went on. ‘It’s a shame about their eldest boy, Wallace.’E’s simple-minded. ’E’s a friendly lad, though. My kids fink the world of ’im, though Jamie tends ter torment ’im sometimes.’

‘Can’t ’e work?’ Carrie asked.

Danny shook his head. ‘ ’E ’as to be watched all the time or’e’s liable to wander orf an’ forget what ’e’s s’posed to be doin’. It’s a bloody shame really. Dolly reckons ’e’d be much better if’e could get a steady job an’ bring in a few bob a week.’

‘We could get ’im ter sweep up the yard fer a few bob a week,’ Joe joked.

Carrie had heard about Wallace from her mother and she nodded. ‘P’raps we could give ’im a try. We need somebody ter keep the place clean,’ she said.

Joe’s face became serious. ‘I was only jossin’,’ he said quickly.

‘I know yer was,’ Carrie replied, ‘but we was only sayin’ the ovver day we could do wiv a chap ter keep the yard clean now that ole Sharkey’s gone.’

‘Yeah, but yer can’t expect somebody like that ter keep the place clean,’ Joe told her. ‘The poor bleeder could get knocked up in the air wiv those lorries in an’ out the yard all the time.’

Carrie turned to her brother for support but Danny shrugged his shoulders. ‘Don’t involve me,’ he said, glancing over to Joe. ‘I wish I ’adn’t mentioned ’im now.’

‘Remember ole Jack Oxford?’ Carrie said, turning to Joe. ‘’E was tuppence short of a shillin’ but ’e kept that stable yard spotless. There were ’orse an’ carts in an’ out there all day as well.’

Joe raised his eyes towards the ceiling and then shrugged. ‘Well, it’s up ter you, Carrie,’ he said with a sigh of resignation, ‘but give it some thought. We don’t want the poor sod gettin’ run over.’

Carrie gave the two men a smile which told them she had won the argument. ‘Danny, tell Mrs Dawson ter pop round termorrer sometime. I’ll ’ave a chat wiv ’er.’

Danny got up from his chair and stretched. ‘Well, I’d better be orf,’ he announced.

As soon as he had left, Carrie turned to Joe, expecting him to be angry, but he merely smiled at her as he came close. ‘D’yer know, Carrie, yer’ve got a big ’eart,’ he said, reaching out and taking her in his arms. ‘I only ’ope yer know what yer doin’,’

Carrie let herself relax, as if her worries might melt away as she felt him holding her tightly. ‘You’ll watch out fer the lad, won’t yer, Joe?’ she sighed.

‘Don’t worry, luv, I’ll keep both eyes on ’im,’ he replied, stroking her back gently.

‘Yer a good man. Joe,’ she sighed, resting her head against his chest. ‘Yer’ll never leave me, will yer?’

Joe squeezed her tightly, breathing in the sweet smell of her long blonde hair. ‘C’mon now, Carrie,’ he whispered into her ear. ‘I could never leave yer. Yer got me fer good.’

She sighed deeply as she clung to him. ‘Sometimes I get scared, Joe, ’specially wiv the war an’ all. I wonder ’ow it’s all gonna turn out. I couldn’t live wivout yer.’

Joe eased his grip on her, moving his hands up to clasp her shoulders. ‘Is this you I’m listenin’ to?’ he said, holding her at arm’s length and gazing into her frightened blue eyes. ‘The girl who’s built up a successful cartage business an’ who’s got the rest o’ the transport concerns around ’ere worried silly?’

Carrie gave a dismissive smile. ‘I was motivated, Joe, yer know I was,’ she said softly. ‘It was the need fer revenge that spurred me. The need fer revenge an’ ter take care o’ me mum an’ dad. Now, though, I know I mustn’t let the ’atred burn inside me. Like me mum said, George Galloway is an old man now an’ it don’t do ter bear grudges ferever. I feel less bitter now, an’ it’s changed me inside. Can yer understand what I’m tryin’ ter say?’

‘I fink so,’ Joe replied. ‘Remember I ’ad ter change too. There was a time when I wanted revenge against those who got me sent ter prison. I wanted revenge so badly it almost destroyed me. I can live wiv meself now, an’ I don’t need the prop that drink gave me. I need you though. You’re the only prop I need.’

Carrie moved close to him and her lips found his in a long, delicious kiss. All the cares and worries seemed to evaporate in that fleeting moment and she knew that come what may, she would have the strength to cope, providing they were together in love.

Billy Sullivan bent his head over the stone sink in his tiny scullery and thought of Annie and the children. He was missing them terribly and the regular letters that he received only made him feel more alone. They were all doing well in Gloucester; Annie was now an accepted and valued member of the church establishment for unmarried mothers, and the children were all getting on nicely at the local school there. Billy was looking forward to his monthly visit and as he dried his rugged face on a rough towel he thought about the embarrassing situation he was in here, and the lack of judgment which had got him into it.

The chance of earning a little extra money working at the Kings Arms had seemed sensible at the time; he was not to know just how things were going to turn out. Terry Gordon was now spending two nights a week with his cronies and Patricia was taking advantage of his loneliness. She had been very open about the fact that she wanted him and it seemed to Billy that unless he gave up working at the pub, things could get out of hand in a weak moment. Patricia was a very attractive woman and he was very lonely. He would have to be careful not to encourage her in any way, but could he trust himself? It would be best if he left the job, he realised. He could tell her that he found it was too much for him after a hard day’s work, but that wouldn’t cut any ice with her. No, he would have to be honest with her and tell her the real reason why he should leave. But then they would have to make up a good excuse to give to Terry.

Billy slipped on a clean shirt which Danny’s wife Iris had washed and ironed for him and as he brushed his thick hair in front of the mirror his face was set in a serious expression. It was Terry’s night out and no doubt Patricia would make the most of it as usual. He would have to be careful that none of the regulars noticed anything. There might be one who bore a grudge and would take the opportunity to write to Annie. It wouldn’t be the first time that some troublemaker had broken up a marriage by penning poisonous gossip.

Billy let himself out of his house and walked along Page Street deep in thought. The evening was bitterly cold and a coating of fresh snow blanketed the hard cobbles. Ahead he could see the lights from the corner pub shining out into the empty turning and he hunched his shoulders against the cold. There were other considerations to take into account too, he thought. Terry was playing a very dangerous game in consorting with Bruce McKenzie and his mob, and Billy knew that he would be in the firing line should things go wrong. Danny had warned him to get out while he still could and he was right. His old pal would be there beside him if he could be, but it was not right to involve him. There was Iris and the children to consider.

When Billy walked through the door of the Kings Arms he immediately sensed that something was wrong. Patricia was behind the bar as usual but she looked very worried. As he lifted the counter flap and walked through, she nodded towards the saloon bar.

‘There’s a couple o’ strange faces in there an’ they’ve bin askin’ a lot o’ questions,’ she said in a low voice.

‘What sort o’ questions?’ Billy asked.

A customer walked over to the counter and Patricia shook her head. ‘I’ll talk ter yer later,’ she said quickly, giving the elderly man a forced smile.

Billy took off his coat in the back room and rolled up his sleeves before going back into the bar. The few hardy customers who had braved the cold weather sat around the small room, their faces inscrutable, apart from one old lady who bit on her bottom lip and occasionally shook her head as though reminding herself of the dangerous times they were all going through.

Suddenly the door opened and an angry-looking Josiah Dawson stormed into the bar. He looked around for a few moments and then approached Billy.

‘ ’Ere, mate, ’as Maurice Salter bin in yet?’ he asked quickly.

Billy shook his head. It was the first time he had seen Josiah Dawson inside the pub and if the look on the warden’s face was anything to go by, Maurice Salter was in for trouble.

‘I’ve just started work. ’E might ’ave bin in earlier,’ Billy told him with a disarming smile.

‘Well, if yer see ’im tell ’im ter get ’imself round ter my place quick as ’e can, if ’e knows what’s good fer ’im,’ Josiah growled.

Billy watched the irate man leave the bar then he turned towards Tom Casey who was sitting by himself in the corner. ‘What’s all that about?’ he asked.

Casey scratched his bald head and stared back at Billy. ‘Search me,’ he said.

‘Blackout,’ a voice piped in.

‘I beg yer pardon,’ Billy said, turning to look at the dapper Bert Jolly.

‘Blackout, that’s what I said,’ Bert repeated. ‘I bought four yards meself an’ the bloody stuff ain’t werf a carrot. Yer can see right frew it. I reckon them there fifth-columnists are be’ind it. Wait till I see Maurice Salter, ’e’ll ’ave a bit of explainin’ ter do, mark my words.’

Billy grinned and got on with polishing glasses, until Patricia suddenly popped her head round the corner. ‘They’ve gone,’ she said with obvious relief.

Billy walked over to her. ‘What’s goin’ on?’ he asked.

She laid her hand on his bare arm and squeezed it. ‘I thought they were ’tecs at first,’ she said in a shaky voice. ‘They was askin’ a lot o’ questions, then I realised they was villains. They asked me about where Terry was and then they said do I get any’tecs in ’ere. They fair scared me. One of’em ’ad this funny look.’

‘Funny look?’

‘Yeah. The short bloke ’ad this funny eye,’ Patricia told him. ‘It was all faded, sort o’ milky lookin’, an’ ’e kept grinnin’ at me. That evil leer of ’is sent shivers down me spine.’

Billy looked around the bar to make sure he would not be overheard, then he turned to Patricia. ‘Yer’d better tell Terry soon as ’e gets in,’ he said. ‘If I’m not mistaken they’ll be part o’ the McKenzie mob an’ they’ve come ter let yer know they’re weighin’ the place up.’

Patricia’s face turned pale and she bit on her lip in anguish. ‘I wish I knew what was goin’ on,’ she groaned. ‘Terry won’t tell me much an’ every time I bring up the subject ’e tells me ter shut up. I’m fair worried fer the both of us, Billy. Fer you as well, come ter that. I couldn’t blame yer if yer got out while yer still can.’

Billy blew deeply and then gave her a reassuring smile. ‘I’m not leavin’ yer while fings are the way they are,’ he told her, immediately wishing he had not said it. ‘It’d be different if Terry didn’t leave yer alone in the pub.’