The Long Walk Home (34 page)

He slipped down the side of a warehouse and ran along it. Like the alleyways and courts, the passages that ran between the buildings were familiar territory to him and he soon saw Tully ahead at the top of one of them.

Mikey stopped and stood to one side where he could see but not be seen, and watched as Tully looked about him. Then he saw him raise his arm and signal to someone. Mikey flattened himself against the wall and peered out. A figure appeared: a man in uniform wearing a recognizable stovepipe hat. Mikey drew in a breath. It was a constable and he was handing something to Tully. Tully put his hand in the crate, drew out what looked like a package and gave it to the policeman. Then Tully pointed towards the river as if explaining something.

'A bribe,' Mikey breathed. 'A sweetener! Now I know for sure that what we do is illegal.'

Tully's taking a chance in broad daylight, Mikey pondered. Though mebbe the constable has an excuse ready if anybody should turn up. Still, nowt to do with me and it's best I don't get involved. He turned away and walked back towards the river and saw Manners in conversation with another man. They seemed to be arguing rather than talking.

Mikey whistled as he approached so that they would hear him. Manners looked up and glared at him.

'That mate of yours is a thief! If only I could catch him!'

'Mate? What mate? I haven't got any mates, onny Sam, and he's no thief.'

'Simon!' Manners barked. 'I paid him to settle for this consignment and he's done a runner with the money.'

Mikey shrugged. 'Nowt to do wi' me, and anyway I said before he's no pal o' mine. You trusted him wi' your books,' he said heatedly. 'Don't go blaming me.'

He'd never spoken to Manners like that before, but his blood was up. He'd just seen Tully handing goods over to a constable, and he was very sure that Simon and Manners had some kind of fishy business going on that didn't include Tully. Now Manners had lost out and didn't like it.

'Tully's about, by the way,' he said, and wondered why he was warning him, but part of him didn't want to be in the middle of a fracas between Manners and Tully. 'He's up on 'top road.'

'Listen, mate,' the other man interrupted, shaking a fist at Manners. 'Do you want these goods or not? If you do, I want my money and if you don't I'm off. I'm not hanging about round here waiting to be picked up by the damned peelers.'

'Go with him, Quinn,' Manners said abruptly and put his hand into his coat pocket. He brought out a handful of coins and counted them. Mikey drew in a breath as he caught the glint of gold and the head of the queen. Five! He watched as Manners reluctantly gave them to the other man. What could be in the consignment that was worth five gold sovereigns?

The man tossed his head to indicate that Mikey should follow him. They walked towards a building close by the wharf's edge where someone else was waiting next to a handcart. Gilby! So he was in the transaction too.

Gilby frowned when he saw Mikey. 'What 'you doing 'ere, Quinn? Simon's supposed to be here.'

'He's done a runner wiv the money,' the first man sneered.

'Who has?' Gilby snapped.

'Simon.' Mikey sighed. 'Manners gave him some money and he's gone. To Canada,' he added.

'Two-faced cur!' Gilby said venomously. 'I never did trust him. I said right from the off he was up to no good. Toffee-nosed varmint. Come on, give us an 'and.'

Mikey was staggered. It was the longest speech Gilby had ever made. Together they tried to lift the wooden crate off the handcart, but they couldn't shift it.

'We can't lift that!' Mikey protested. 'Can't we borrow 'cart? I'll bring it back after we've unloaded it.'

The stranger hesitated. 'Yeh, but just dump it; somewhere out of sight. I'll reckon on it's gone missing.'

Mikey noticed that the name on the cart denoted a company on St Katharine's dock. 'It's a weight,' he muttered. 'That's not baccy.'

'Who said it was?' Gilby blustered. 'Keep your nose out of what doesn't concern you, Quinn.'

'It concerns me if it's contraband and I'm caught with it,' Mikey said heatedly. He was getting heartily sick of being told something wasn't his concern when he would be the first in line at the magistrate's if they were caught.

Gilby glared at him and then took hold of one of the shafts whilst Mikey took the other. They heaved and the wheels started to move.

'It's onny a bit of owd marble,' Gilby muttered. 'Nowt to get het up about. Onny don't let on to Tully. This is summat I arranged wi' Manners and Simon. We could let you in on it now that Simon's gone, I suppose, if Manners agrees.'

'Mebbe.' Mikey was guarded. 'How much do I get for today?'

'Just the going rate,' Manners told him, when Mikey later asked him the same question. 'I'm going to have to make up for what I've lost through that toad Simon.'

'That's not my concern,' Mikey said boldly; Manners glared at him but made no further comment.

The other men had arrived for work and Mikey directed them to move some of the packing cases in the warehouse to make room for the crate. There were no more consignments due that day and, after consulting with Manners, he laid them off. They grumbled, but he shrugged and said there was nothing he could do about it. If there were no consignments then there was no work, and they wouldn't get paid.

They'd no sooner left than Manners came out of his office. 'We're moving on,' he said. 'I've found a better storage place.'

'I've just laid 'men off,' Mikey said in astonishment. Manners must surely have known before he'd told him to do so. 'We can't shift this lot on our own.'

'Yes, we can,' Manners said. 'You, me and Gilby and the waggon driver.'

'What about Tully?'

'I'll tell Tully later,' Manners said. 'It's just a precaution. And I'll recruit fresh men tomorrow. I don't trust them others and neither do I trust that cur Simon.'

There had been many changes of storage depot over the years and Manners had always said it was a precaution. Against what, Mikey had always wondered, but now he knew. It was a safeguard against the police finding them and what they were up to.

Mikey knew many of the regular dock workers and men on the wharves and they knew him; generally they were suspicious of strangers and guarded their jobs and the goods well, but as one of them had said to Mikey when he first arrived, there would always be somebody who would take advantage. Those who would, he was now convinced, were Manners, Tully and Gilby. All three were working for their own benefit as much as for each other. As for Simon, Manners was probably right about him, he thought. It would be just like him to split to the authorities, just before he sailed away.

'Where are we going?' he asked Manners.

'You'll find out,' Manners said brusquely. 'There'll be a waggon here in ten minutes and we'll get this lot loaded on to it.'

Mikey thought of the constable who had received a package from Tully. Was he still hanging about? He was in uniform so he must be on duty. Mikey's gut started to churn. If we're caught it'll be prison! I'm not a young lad any more; it'll be a longer sentence. I can't stand that— and I'd not be able to see Ellie again.

It was the thought of not seeing Eleanor above all else that decided him. 'I'll be back in a minute,' he called, and sauntered towards a building that contained latrines for the men working nearby.

'Don't be long,' Gilby shouted. 'Waggon's on its way.'

'Tough!' Mikey muttered and went inside the building. Then, checking that Manners and Gilby had their backs to him, he came straight out and rushed off in the opposite direction. He ran through one of the passageways which led to the top of the access road and came to a sudden halt. The area was swarming with police.

He turned round and ran back until he came to a cut-through running at right angles to the passageway. He slipped down it and came to some iron steps, like a ship's jack ladder, running up the side of a brick warehouse. Swiftly he climbed up and lay down on the flat roof. From there he could see the whole area. The warehouses and storage buildings covered miles and ran right down to the wharves. He could see the long snaking length of the flowing estuary, the barges, lighters, coal vessels and bigger ships bound for other lands, and he thought for a second of Simon escaping to distant shores.

Then he heard the tramp of feet and saw a platoon of constables marching towards where Manners and Gilby would be waiting, oblivious.

'That's it,' he muttered. 'I'm off.'

He shuffled on his stomach towards the place where he had climbed up; peered over, saw it was all clear and swiftly climbed down and walked, not hurriedly but as if he was out on business, towards the top road and safety.

Then he began to hurry towards the lodging house to collect his few belongings, fearful that the constables might also come knocking on that door. He was sure that Manners and Gilby, if cornered, would implicate him too. He pushed open the door and Bridget was there.

'What 'you doing back at this time?' she said, yawning. She was sitting in the chair with her feet in the hearth even though there wasn't a fire lit.

'Why does everybody question what I'm doing?' Mikey said irritably.

'Cos you're a creature of habit,' Bridget shrugged. 'You're allus so predictable. You turn up when you say you will, allus on time for work; things like that. Everybody knows you'll not do owt out of 'ordinary.'

'Really!' he said, picking up his knapsack. He crossed the room to the battered chest of drawers where he and Simon kept things like socks, and took out his other pair. Then he noticed that Simon had left a pair behind so he picked those up too and put them in his bag. He wished he still had Mrs Turner's old blanket, but that had disintegrated long ago.

'What 'you doing?' Bridget sat up. 'Are you off somewhere? Can I come?'

Mikey took a breath. Now here was a dilemma. Should he tell her and if he did would she want to go home to Hull with him, or would she stay here and tell Manners and Tully where he'd gone? He saw that she was watching him and waiting for an answer.

'Where you going?' she repeated. 'Tell me.'

He hesitated, and then took a chance. 'What if I said I was going home? To Hull.'

She laughed, loudly and coarsely. 'Home? On your own? Not likely.' She yawned again and drew her arms above her head, lifting up her long dark hair. 'You'd never make it. Hah,' she snorted. 'You'd never have got to London but for me.' She leaned forward to catch his eye. 'Never told you, did I?'

'What?' he said sullenly, wanting to get away and yet somehow reluctant to leave her. How would she cope on her own? How would she deal with Manners and Tully?

She smiled, cunning and worldly; then she winked. 'How do you think I got 'money for 'ferry fare, or for ' journey? Who bought 'food for them first days?'

'We managed,' he said, but then remembered that Bridget's money had lasted longer than his did.

She rose from the chair and put her arms round his waist. 'Managed?' she whispered, her mouth close to his cheek. 'No, Mikey, it was me that managed. It was me who earned 'money so that we didn't starve afore we got halfway across Lincolnshire.' She ran her hands down his back. 'And who soft-soaped Manners to get us these lodgings?'

Mikey pushed her away. 'Tully got us these rooms. He said so.'

'That was because Tony Manners told him to,' she said. 'Tully's onny small fry even though he acts as if he is boss. He's not.' She turned her back on Mikey. 'Manners is.'

He took hold of her by the shoulder and turned her round to face him, and he saw her defiance crumble.

'But it didn't matter what I did for you, Mikey,' she whispered. 'It didn't matter cos you never even noticed. I was nothing to you.'

'We were friends, Bridget,' he answered, unnerved by what she was saying. 'Are friends. I never asked you to do owt you'd be ashamed of.'

She shook her head; her eyes were bright. 'Who said I was ashamed? I'll do what I have to to get out of this pit of poverty. Not like you, Mikey.' She sneered. 'You'll never make owt of yourself. You haven't got 'backbone. Not like Simon or Manners.'

'Like Simon!' he taunted. 'Well at least I'm telling you that I'm leaving. I'm not disappearing and letting somebody else do my dirty work.
And
I'm onny tekking what's mine,' he added. 'I'm not thieving like Simon and Manners. Tek care, Bridget. There's all sorts going on wi' Tully and Manners and you shouldn't get mixed up wi' it.'

Her eyes opened wide as he put the knapsack on his back.

'You're really going?' she said. 'Sure, you're kidding me!' She caught his arm. 'Don't go, Mikey. I didn't mean what I said. Honest I didn't.'

He sighed. 'Yes, you did. And mebbe I haven't got what it takes to make summat of myself. Mebbe that's why I'm going back. I'm not like you, that's true. You've allus looked out for yourself. Nobody else. You're a bit like Simon really. Anyway,' he added, 'you wouldn't want to go back to Hull, to how you lived afore wi' your ma and da.'

She stared at him as if he was speaking a foreign language that she couldn't understand. Then, with her lips parted, she shook her head. 'No, I wouldn't,' she said softly. 'Not to my da, anyway. I'd get 'flat of his hand if I did go back.' She swallowed. 'But if you should see my ma, you could tell her— tell her that I'm doing all right. Tell her that I've got a job, and— and some friends wi' plenty o' money.'

He smiled. 'Yeh, I'll do that. When I get there.' He leaned towards her and planted a kiss on her cheek. 'Listen to what I say, Bridget. Manners and Tully could be in trouble. Especially Manners.'

Bridget nodded and touched her cheek with her fingers. 'I'm listening, Mikey,' she said. 'I'm listening to what you're saying.'

And to what you're not saying, she thought as he opened the door and took one last look back. I'm listening to you saying that you don't want me. She fought back tears. Have never wanted me.

Mikey strode purposefully out of the lodging house. He had pangs of guilt over leaving Bridget, and yet he knew in his heart she wouldn't have wanted to go home. But she wanted me to ask her, he thought. She wanted to be given the chance to refuse. Perhaps I should have granted her that. But I was scared, he pondered. Scared that she might have said yes.