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Authors: Ruth Hamilton

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BOOK: Midnight on Lime Street
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Wool shop, East Prescot Road, Knotty Ash.

He crept back to the bushes, picked up his bike and wheeled it out towards the main road. Tomorrow, he’d be moving to a decent house with windows that opened and a place to hang clothes
well away from cooking smells. Things could only get better. Couldn’t they?

He entered the city centre and pushed his bike towards the water. This was a place where people often stood staring out towards the bar as if waiting for a relative to come home after long
service at sea. Two painted whores approached him and asked was he looking for business and did he fancy a threesome? He swept an eye over the pair. ‘No, thanks.’

They wheedled, spelling out items on their menu and the prices for each function. One offered to remove her dentures to give him the experience of a lifetime, and he smiled kindly upon both of
them. ‘Ladies, I am spoken for, but thank you.’ They were small, they were ugly, and they were on the streets. Furthermore, they were accosting men and offering themselves at very low
cost. He wondered whether they might be diseased. But here, in the glare of city lights, he dared not react. Had they been further along the riverfront, he might have been tempted to do the work
prescribed by the Lord.

Tomorrow, he was on the two-till-ten shift. In the morning, he would stand at the school gates and look at his children while they played. At noon, Joseph would come for him, and the move away
from squalor would be achieved.

Back in that hellish attic room, Neil packed his cases, sat in the greasy chair and drank a small Guinness. A new page was turning; a new chapter was about to begin. Once he got away from this
dump, his mind would settle and he would be in decent company and clean surroundings. And best of all, he knew where Angela was going.

‘Why are we standing here like two statues waiting to be bombed by pigeons?’ Tom asked, a grin decorating his handsome face. ‘It has to be done,
Belle.’

She swallowed nervously. ‘I don’t know. Why are we standing here like a pair of statues waiting for—’

‘It’s not a riddle, babe. You were the one who decided to wait to tell your mum and dad once the deed was done and you were out of Meadowbank. If you remember, I said they should
have been told as soon as we’d made our decision.’

‘I’m a coward. And there are no pigeons in your house.’ She attempted a smile; he looked wonderful in good clothes and with a smart haircut. Max clearly shared their excitement
by bringing his toys one by one and laying them at the feet of the radiant couple.

‘I’ll put the kettle on, Belle.’ He went to do just that. ‘You did tell them the auditing firm was closing down, so they’ll expect you to be out of work,’ he
called before reappearing in the kitchen doorway. ‘Cup of tea and a slice of apple pie, then we go together and do what has to be done. They like me, love. It’s not as if they’re
going to hit the roof with their clogs on, is it?’

‘But they don’t know how long we’ve known each other, Tom. As far as Mam and Dad understand, I met you a very short time ago. Well, apart from seeing you in a jeweller’s
shop. They’ll think it’s too soon.’ She raised her left hand and studied the rings. ‘And here I am, not just engaged, but married five hours ago. You told Eve you were
talking possible marriage, but you never said we’d be done and dusted by four o’clock, did you?’

Tom shook his head slowly. ‘Listen to me. If you think I went to all this trouble getting a wedding cake so that Frankie and Sam can have a taste—’

‘I’m sorry.’

He strode across the room and kissed her gently on the mouth. ‘We are not a mistake, Belle. I still think we should have done this differently, but we can’t change what’s
happened. We are not a mistake,’ he repeated.

‘I know.’

‘We’re made for each other. Let’s face it, three hands are better than one, and there’s always my hook.’

‘Yes.’

‘Then sit down, shut up, and I’ll get your tea and your pie.’

After a lovely post-wedding meal, Belle wasn’t hungry, but she decided to follow her husband’s orders just this once. It would give her a little more thinking time . . . Oh, heck.
Little Lisa didn’t know anything, either. ‘I’ve done this arse over tip, as usual,’ Belle muttered while her man made tea. He did very well with just the one hand, she
thought, and she alone had the power to stop via massage the occasional acute pain in fingers that no longer existed.

Three houses along the street, Mam and Dad were probably watching a bit of telly before bedtime. Lisa would be curled up fast asleep and completely oblivious of the fact that she had acquired a
stepfather. Might she want to leave her grandparents and move in with Mummy and Tom? And how would Lisa’s grandparents feel if that happened? The child could choose. She could eat in one
house, sleep in another, bring Amelia to either . . .

Tom sat after handing her a small tray. ‘Stop worrying.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Well, take the rings off and stay with Sam and Frankie for a while.’

Belle didn’t stop thinking. Lisa would want to be a bridesmaid, and the child’s grandparents would insist on attending a wedding that had already happened. She shook her head.
‘I’m telling the truth. Well, I’ll give them most of the truth, because I don’t want my family ever to know how I’ve been making my money.’ She gazed at him.
‘I still can’t believe you chose me, Tom.’

He smiled broadly. ‘Oh yes, there was a long queue, eh? There were ten of them lining up wanting to marry me. I love you, you daft mare. Even if there had been a queue, I would have asked
you and only you.’

Belle fluttered her eyelashes. ‘That would be because I’m such a sweet, innocent young thing.’

‘You’re nearly ten years younger than me, Mrs Duffield. And we have our alibi, because you’ve done the audit for several jewellers who give me work, so we’ve seen each
other before on several occasions. Ships that passed in the night, yet we recognized each other without realizing at first. We fell in love in my house while drinking tea together; we wanted no
fuss, but we’ll have a church blessing if that’s what they’d like for us. Lisa could have a posh frock, and your mam would have an excuse to buy a new hat. Women like hats,
don’t they?’

She giggled, but she didn’t know why. ‘When I was a kid, Mam always used to say I had a giggle button. Trouble was, I couldn’t stop once I started laughing, then I’d get
hiccups.’

Tom drained his cup. ‘Thanks for that information. I shall take it down and use it in evidence against you. Come on. You can finish your pie when we get back.’

Belle stayed where she was, firmly planted in the chair. ‘I’ll do it tomorrow,’ she whispered.

The master of the house paced up and down a few times. He would sort this out. ‘Right, Madam Butterfly, you can stop where you are – I’m going to fetch your parents.’
When she opened her mouth to reply, he held up a hand in the manner of a traffic policeman. ‘You just carry on fluttering about and I’ll bring the mountain here. Don’t worry, a
neighbour will babysit Lisa. Just stay, for God’s sake. Married for less than half a day, and there’s trouble already.’ Giving her no chance to speak, he left the house.

With her jaw dropping, Belle froze for several seconds.

Pulling herself together, she ran to the front door, but she couldn’t shout, didn’t want to make a show for the neighbours to chatter about over supper or tomorrow’s breakfast.
Tom was walking up the path to Mam and Dad’s front door. He was all dressed up in his wedding suit, a white rose wilting slightly in his buttonhole. Bugger. She closed the door and returned
to the living room. ‘Come on, Isabella,’ she mumbled, staring at her reflection. She looked good in mid-blue taffeta with navy accessories, but she did a quick job in the makeup
department.

Silence ruled. Any minute now . . . any minute now . . .

*

At long last, Bill Tyler had found his way to the scout hut. He could have gone to his local police station first, but he preferred to visit the scene in case the boys were
hanging about nearby. If they were, he could have a chat with them.

Oh, hell on a butty, there was a uniform at the door and a couple in plain clothes with him. What should he do? He should ask about the lads he had seen that night, so he steeled himself. He was
going to talk to police anyway soon, so why wait? The boys’ safety was his first priority, because Roy hadn’t been safe.

After taking a deep breath, Bill squared his shoulders, straightened his spine and approached the scene, leaving his bike on the ground.

‘Stay where you are for a minute,’ Detective Sergeant Eddie Barnes called. ‘What do you want?’

‘Are they all right?’ Bill shouted.

‘Are who all right?’

‘Them three lads. Has he killed them as well? I know he got arrested the other morning; it was on the wireless.’

After a short conversation, the uniformed man ordered the boy to come closer. ‘You’re all right, lad. Say what you have to say.’

So he spilled his guts accompanied by a few tears. Annoyed with himself for breaking down like a girl, he told them about the condemned house, the crop, the stolen electricity, and that his best
mate, Roy Foley, had been a clever lad totally devoid of common sense. ‘We couldn’t manage all them plants,’ he explained nervously, ’cos there was hundreds of them, so Roy
went down Halewood to get Boss and his gang. They said they’d do the harvest, then me and Roy went in one of the vans. They give us twenty quid each. There was two vans
-
one
for people, the other for the grass plants. We helped to load at our end, then to unload at the other end.’ He paused. ‘Can I have a drink?’

He was given a cup of lemonade. While the boy drank it, Eddie watched him. This was a lad at Confession; he had come here to unburden himself. ‘Feeling better? What’s your
name?’

‘I’m Bill Tyler. Roy Foley was me bezzie mate since nursery.’

‘Go on.’

He went on as requested. ‘There was a great big barn and a house on its own, not stuck to any other houses, like. We put the plants in the barn, then we had to go to a shed near the house
and get all these packets and pile them up in the van where our stuff had been. We were driven here, and the packets got hid under tents and stuff. There was three lads. Boss said he’d look
after them with food and money if they’d mind his property and promise not to touch it. They was them three what ran away from school.’ He paused. ‘Are they dead?’

‘We think not,’ Eddie said, his tone quiet and gentle. ‘What happened after the drugs were stashed, Bill?’

Bill told them about having been taken home and ordered to work for Boss. ‘He said he’d come back for us the next day. He told me I had to deliver drugs to people, and he was taking
Roy on as a member of staff was the way he put it. I told Boss I couldn’t do the job for him because I’m working with me dad now. We have to travel to other towns sometimes, cos
it’s a big building firm. So I got let off and Roy got murdered. It was in the papers.’

‘Yes. Boss or one of his gang overdosed him. Boss is too clever for that, which means it was probably one of his sidekicks. So – anything else, Bill?’

The boy stared at his feet. He was grassing, but he had no choice, had he? And with Boss in jail . . .

Eddie prompted him again. ‘Bill?’

This was another frightening bit. ‘He said he knew where our families were. The next thing I found out, Roy was dead. Then I started thinking about this lot who were living in the hut with
the drugs. Where are they?’

‘We don’t know. But thank you for coming forward, son. You’ll have to make a formal statement, of course.’

Bill felt the blood draining from his face. ‘Will I go to jail?’

The uniformed man put a hand on Bill’s shoulder. ‘Listen, lad – we’ll put in a word. It took courage to come here and tell us all this stuff. Now, if you’d like to
go with DS Barnes in an unmarked car, he’ll take you to the cop shop and you can write your statement.’

‘What about me bike? It’s not just mine— I have to share it with me brothers and they get mad when I bugger off without telling them.’

‘I’ll get the keys to the van,’ Eddie said before disappearing into the hut.

A sob escaped from the boy’s throat. ‘I’m no good at writing,’ he told the uniform. ‘Roy was.’

‘But you’ve got the common sense. You’ll be given help with your statement. And don’t be feeling guilty because Roy’s dead and you’re alive. Loads arrived
back after the war and made themselves ill over their dead mates. When it comes to crime and battles, it can be the luck of the draw.’

‘I miss him. Dad always said he was trouble, but he made me laugh.’

‘Well, I’m telling you now, Detective Barnes is hilarious. He might even get you a bottle of pop and a bag of chips. Stop worrying.’

Bill dried his eyes furiously with the cuff of his jumper.

Eddie emerged with the van keys. ‘Good job you came tonight, Bill. We’ve been here upwards of forty-eight hours, and we’re packing up now. Let’s get your bike,
lad.’

*

Life without Neil was so much easier. Laura Carson did her five lunchtime shifts at the chip shop, plus a couple of evenings when Mum stayed to look after the children. Mum
kept telling her, ‘You’re coming out of your shell, love. It’s good to see you happy at last.’ But Mum had never liked Neil. She’d always thought there was something
dark about him, and had often expressed the opinion that he was a religious fanatic, a man with no sense of humour, and a miserable so-and-so who seemed to think laughter was a crime.

It was true that Laura was blossoming at last, since she was meeting and talking to people across a counter, while her employers held her in high regard. Only now, in her husband’s
absence, did she realize how oppressive life had become when he’d been there; everything had revolved round his shifts. Now, she could cook when she felt it was time, iron when she had a
couple of hours to spare, and the house, which had suddenly become a home, was allowed to be untidy, even boasting a light sprinkling of dust from time to time.

Having read a few magazines, Laura discovered that she was still young enough for longer hair – she had seven years left before reaching the metaphorical and actual cutting off point
– so she intended to let it grow a bit. She was also eating better, and the sharp angles on her face were blurring under a healthy deposit of flesh. At thirty-three, she was beginning to look
younger.

BOOK: Midnight on Lime Street
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