Backstreet Child (7 page)

Nobby looked over towards the counter where the new landlord was busy talking to a couple of dockers. He was well aware how his views often caused his rival to take offence, and in the past the raising of voices had always upset the landlord. The new tenant of the Kings Arms looked a mean character to Nobby, not someone who would tolerate their little discussions so easily, he thought.

‘Look, me ole mate,’ the ex-docker went on in a conciliatory voice. ‘I ain’t sayin’ that it’s definitely gonna be a war, but yer gotta realise that once yer go too far, there ain’t no goin’ back. That’s all I’m tryin’ ter say.’

Jack leaned forward, a wicked glint in his rheumy eyes. ‘In the first place, I ain’t yer ole mate,’ he growled. ‘In the second place, I ain’t interested in yer views, an’ nor is Mrs Phillips fer that matter, are yer, luv?’

The elderly lady was upset at having to endure the constant bickering of the two men; she felt they were old enough to know better, and she decided that a change of seating was the answer. With a huge puff of indignation she got up and took her empty glass to the counter, and when it had been refilled she walked over to another table and sat down beside Florrie Axford who had just come in on the arm of Maisie Dougall.

‘Yer don’t mind me sittin’ ’ere, do yer, Flo?’ she asked. ‘Those two are drivin’ me roun’ the bleedin’ twist wiv their talk.’

Florrie shook her head. ‘Them two caused enough trouble when Alec Crossley was runnin’ the pub,’ she said. ‘This one don’t look like ’e’ll put up wiv it. ’E looks a bit of a cowson ter me.’

Nobby had been expounding the international situation and had not noticed Granny Phillips move places. Jack had, however, and he knew then that he had lost his chances of encouraging her to accompany him home when the pub closed, for a cup of tea and a little canoodling. He looked at Nobby with venom.

‘Look what yer bin an’ gorn an’ done now,’ he grated. ‘I was gettin’ on all right wiv ’er, till you opened yer big trap.’

Nobby looked over to where Maria Phillips was seated and then back to the angry suitor. ‘Don’t worry, mate,’ he said, trying to mollify him. ‘They’re all the same. Fickle, that’s what they are. Take my first ole woman.’

‘I don’t want ’er,’ Jack cut in quickly. ‘What’s more, I don’t wanna listen ter you spoutin’ orf about fings yer know nuffing about. Now why don’t yer piss orf an’ leave me alone.’

Nobby felt he had tried hard to be friendly but there was a limit to what a man could stand. ‘Right, that does it,’ he said, getting up as quick as his legs could manage it. ‘I know where I’m not wanted.’

‘’Ave yer only jus’ found out?’ Jack growled, picking up his pint and taking a large swig.

‘Yer askin’ fer a smack on the ’ooter,’ Nobby replied, leaning forward menacingly.

‘Oh, an’ who’s gonna do it?’

‘I am.’

‘You an’ whose army?’

‘Me an’ meself.’

Jack put his glass down heavily on the table. ‘Why, yer silly ole sod, yer couldn’t punch yer way out of a paper bag.’

Nobby forgot his promise to himself and raised his fists. ‘C’mon then, on yer feet,’ he snarled.

Terry Gordon, the new landlord, had been warned about Nobby and he knew from hard experience learned in various other pubs that trouble of this sort had to be nipped in the bud. He had already decided, however, that on this occasion it would be more prudent to use a bit of guile rather than brute force. He quickly slipped through the counter and confronted the sparring ex-docker.

‘Now look, Nobby, I’ve ’eard all about you from Alec Crossley,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘Alec told me yer’ve done a bit o’ boxin’ in yer time, is that right?’

Jack snorted contemptuously and was rewarded with a brief warning glance from the landlord, but Nobby’s face relaxed somewhat and he rolled his shoulders. ‘Yeah, yer could say that,’ he said proudly.

‘Well then yer know yer mustn’t get yerself inter scrapes outside the ring, or you’ll get it in the neck if yer get taken ter court,’ the landlord reminded him.

Jack was still fuming over his spoilt evening with Maria Phillips. ‘I wouldn’t waste me time takin’ ’im ter court,’ he growled. ‘I’d knock the silly bleeder right out.’

Terry had succeeded in getting Nobby seated once more by pressing down on the man’s bony shoulder with his large hand, and he turned to Jack. ‘I should ’ave thought yer’d seen enough fightin’ in yer time, you bein’ an ole soldier,’ he said, shaking his head sadly. ‘Now look, why don’t yer call a truce an’ I’ll send yer over a pint each?’

‘Suits me,’ Nobby said grinning.

‘Righto, guv’nor,’ Jack said grudgingly. ‘Long as ’e don’t start up again.’

Terry walked back behind the counter with a satisfied grin on his face. He wanted to start off on the right foot in his new pub, and he considered that banning two harmless pensioners from the place before he had established himself with the locals would not make for very good business.

One sunny morning in April Jamie Robins walked into the office carrying the
Daily Mirror
and sat down heavily in his seat. He had read that young men of twenty and twenty-one were being conscripted and he was worried. It would be his turn to go soon and how would his hard-up family manage then? As he set about his tasks he could not get the problem out of his mind and he hoped his employer would remember her promise to help him get an exemption.

When Carrie came into the office Jamie showed her the paper. ‘I don’t s’pose it’ll be long now before I’m called up, Mrs Bradley,’ he said, hoping for a positive response, but Carrie was preoccupied at that moment and she merely gave him a sympathetic smile.

Later that morning Rachel made an appearance and Jamie’s eyes lit up. ‘I’d better keep these books up ter the minute, Rachel,’ he said, giving her a smile. ‘I’ll be gettin’ called up soon.’

Rachel, too, was preoccupied, and his mentioning the call-up only served to remind her of what Derek had told her only last evening. She merely nodded with a smile and busied herself at the other desk, much to Jamie’s disappointment. He had wanted to attract her interest and sympathy, and he went back to his book-keeping feeling suddenly very depressed.

Rachel tried to sort out a pile of tax forms, aware that Jamie kept sending furtive glances in her direction, but her mind was on Derek. He had decided not to wait for his call-up and had volunteered for the Royal Navy. He had told her that if he waited until he was called up he might be drafted into the army instead. It was the navy for him and on that he was adamant. Derek was a determined young man, and he had argued away her objections.

‘If I get called up in the army I might be sent abroad and not see yer fer years,’ he had told her. ‘At least wiv the navy yer get back ter port now an’ then.’

‘But yer signed on fer five years,’ Rachel had reminded him.

‘If war does break out it could last a lot longer than five years,’ was his reply.

She had been going out with Derek for almost a year now and their relationship was getting more and more passionate. Now he had surprised her with his announcement Rachel felt vulnerable to his advances. He would be away for some time before his first leave and if war broke out he might be sent away to fight and maybe get killed or maimed before they had experienced full love together.

Jamie watched Rachel nibbling away at her bottom lip as she sat deep in thought. When he had mustered up enough courage, he put down his pen and turned towards her. ‘Is there anyfink wrong?’ he asked, a nervous tone to his voice.

Rachel was shaken from her reverie. ‘No, I was jus’ finkin’,’ she said quickly, giving him a smile.

Jamie tried to appear fatherly. ‘It’s an uncertain time, but I’m not worryin’ unduly,’ he said, leaning back in his chair. ‘There’s nuffink we can do about it anyway.’

Rachel nodded. ‘My boy friend’s volunteered fer the navy,’ she said turning to face him. ‘’E felt it was better than waitin’ ter be called up.’

Jamie’s heart dropped. He had cherished the thought that one day he would pluck up enough courage to ask her out and now she had a boy friend it was no use. Maybe there was hope, though, he told himself quickly. ‘If yer ever need somebody ter talk to, I’m ’ere,’ he said suddenly, feeling his face going red.

Rachel smiled kindly. ‘Fanks, Jamie. I’ll remember what yer said,’ she replied.

The young man lowered his head over the ledger once more. He was pleased with himself for planting the seed there in Rachel’s mind but he felt he should have been more bold. Maybe she secretly liked him, enough to go out with him. Perhaps she was only waiting for him to ask her, despite the fact that she had a boy friend at the moment. He would be very proper if she did agree to a date with him, Jamie dreamed to himself. He would shake her hand when he said goodnight on the first date and then he would give her a gentle kiss the next time. Later of course she would become passionate towards him and he would be the gentleman and not take advantage of her maidenly desires. There would come a time, however, when she would expect him to make love to her and Jamie started to sweat as he thought about it. He would be very gentle and try not to hurt her. She would lie in his arms and sigh contentedly, then vow her undying love. God, the thoughts were making him feel shaky.

Rachel, too, was dreaming of love as she sat a few yards away from Jamie Robins watching the young man’s Adam’s apple moving up and down his neck. Derek was going to be very pleasantly surprised on their next date, when she would not attempt to remove his hand when they were in a passionate embrace. God, she thought, he had better not let her down or, worse still, get her pregnant . . .

Across the quiet, sunny yard Carrie was sitting in the parlour with Joe and her mother. Her face was set hard. ‘Yer know ’ow much I love those ’orses, Mum, that’s the reason I’ve decided ter let ’em go,’ she said forcibly.

‘Is it?’ Nellie responded with a disbelieving look. ‘I fink it’s the old feelin’s showin’. It’s yer ’atred fer Galloway what’s swayed yer finkin’. I know you, gel. Yer won’t rest until yer put that man out o’ business. It’s bin yer aim ever since yer went inter the transport game. Galloway’s got rid of ’is ’orses an’ now yer followin’ ’im. It’ll turn yer, Carrie. It’ll make yer bitter an’’ard if yer don’t ease orf. Let it be, there’s bin enough grief over the years an’ nobody’s got reason ter detest the man more than me, but I’ve come ter terms wiv it. There’s little room fer revenge inside me any more.’

Carrie felt the emotion in her mother’s voice and she went to her and sat on the edge of her armchair, putting her arm round her shoulders. ‘I can’t ’elp the way I’m made, Mum,’ she said softly, ‘but I promised that one day I’d see George Galloway out o’ business. I can never change where ’e’s concerned.’

‘Galloway is an old man now, Carrie,’ Nellie said, looking up at her. ‘ ’E knows the wrongs ’e’s done ter people all frew ’is life. ’E knows that one day there’ll be a judgment.’

Carrie caught Joe’s eye and he shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to get involved in the discussion.

‘Galloway might not be the force ’e was,’ Carrie went on angrily, ‘but ’e’s still the guv’ nor. All right, Frank Galloway’s in control but the ole man’s still pullin’ the strings. Don’t ask me ter ferget all what’s ’appened, Mum, ’cos I can’t. ’E got rid o’ Dad after all those years o’ loyal service an’ we were chucked out on the street. It was the Galloway firm, too, that was be’ind that trouble wiv our transport. An’ what about Charlie, Mum?’

Nellie suddenly dropped her head and Carrie could have bitten her tongue off. ‘I’m sorry, Mum, I shouldn’t ’ave said that,’ she whispered, squeezing her mother’s shoulders. ‘It was stupid.’

Joe got up and left the room, and as the door closed Nellie raised her tear-filled eyes. ‘It’s all right, luv, I know yer didn’t mean anyfing by it,’ she said in a cracked voice, ‘but yer see I’ve never got rid o’ me own feelin’ o’ guilt, an’ Gawd knows I’ve suffered over the years, knowin’ what a good man yer farvver was an’ ’ow I deceived ’im. It takes two ter make a baby an’ Charlie was the result o’ my weakness. I can’t put the blame solely on George Galloway. What transpired was fate. What makes two people come tergevver in the first place? Of all the young ladies around, what made our Charlie fall fer young Josephine, the one gel wiv the same blood? Gawd knows, I dunno.’

Carrie slipped down on her knees in front of her mother and took both her hands. ‘Dad can’t be ’urt now, Mum,’ she said quietly. ‘An’ yer mustn’t keep blamin’ yerself. Galloway took advantage of yer an’ if ’e’d ’ave bin closer ter ’is poor daughter she’d still be ’ere now. Josephine ’ad nobody ter turn to. She killed ’erself out o’ despair. There’s only one person ter blame, an’ that’s George Galloway.’