Читать книгу Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection - Josephine Cox - Страница 75

IT HAD BEEN a hot day and now the night was unbearably humid. Unable to sleep, Luke threw off the bedclothes and for a moment he just lay there, arms above his head, eyes closed, and the tiredness seeping through his every bone.

His mind, though, was alive with all manner of thoughts and emotions: pride in his work and the new contract he had managed to secure in spite of heavy competition; anxiety about Sylvia, who had been increasingly difficult of late. The dark, uncontrollable thoughts came with ferocity, lasted a moment or two and fell away just as quickly.

It pained him to see her suffering like that. He wanted to do more. He wanted her to be the vibrant, shrewd woman she once had been. But that woman was long gone, and he could do nothing to help her. No one could.

As always when he felt tired and lonely, his thoughts shifted to Amy. He recalled her warm, bright smile and those pretty eyes that twinkled even when she wasn’t smiling. In his painting he had caught the very essence of that smile, and more, he had caught her spirit, strong and brave. ‘Amy …’ He relished the sound of her name. ‘If only things had been different … if Sylvia and her lover had made a life together, you and I might have had a chance to get to know each other.’ But things were not ‘different’, and they never could be.

Through the open window, he viewed the galaxy of stars and was mesmerised by their sparkling beauty. ‘I wonder if she’s looking at these same stars?’ It was a curiously comforting idea that they could be sharing this view. Luke thought of his cabin in Bowland Forest, nestling in the shadows of the fells. The sky there would be darkest black, not faded by the reflection of any streetlamps, and the stars would be piercingly bright in contrast. How he longed to share that night sky with Amy – the lovely, laughing, spirited girl, not an oil painting. Seeing her on Tuesdays at Tooley’s Café, then escaping to the peace of the cabin, he saw her as inextricably part of his private world. If only she could make the journey to the cabin too. Somehow, this would be so right.

With thoughts of Amy came a warm feeling, and then tiredness began to swamp his consciousness. After a time he closed his eyes and drifted into a deep sleep.

He did not hear the door open, nor did he hear the soft tread of footsteps as they came across the carpet to his bed. When she leaned over him, he had no idea she was there. Even as she climbed into bed beside him, he did not feel her presence.

In his sleep he began to dream, and the dream was of Amy. One minute she was in the painting and the next she was stepping out, into his arms, the soft touch of her hand on his body making him tremble.

Beside him, Sylvia gently stroked her hand over him; touching the curve of his chest, savouring the feel of those strong vibrant muscles beneath her fingertips. Now she was reaching down, slipping her hand into the dip of his groin. When he seemed to respond, she pressed herself close to him.

‘Love me,’ she whispered, and as he turned to draw her closer, she gave herself up to him.

Greatly aroused he lay along her length, his member standing tall as he prepared to enter her. ‘I knew you’d find me …’ His voice softly caressing her, he slid his hands beneath her buttocks, tenderly arching her into him. ‘You’re lovely,’ he kissed her neck, her ears, savouring the taste of her skin on his tongue, ‘… so lovely …’ He wanted her with every fibre of his being.

In that moment she began screaming, shocking him awake. ‘LEAVE ME ALONE! GET OFF ME!’ As he rolled away, she leaped on him, her fists pummelling his chest and face. ‘GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU BASTARD!’

There was no let-up, and he, reeling under the blows, could not seem to hold her off until, with one mighty effort he took hold of her arms and, swinging her away, rolled off the bed.

‘SYLVIA!’ Somewhere between dream and consciousness he had imagined it was Amy in his arms. ‘What are you doing here?’

Suddenly she was like a child, desperately clinging to him. ‘Don’t punish me,’ she sobbed. ‘It wasn’t me … I didn’t do it.’ Her fear was so real, he could almost taste it.

‘I would never punish you. Be still. Ssh!’ As he reached out to comfort her she drew away like some frightened animal to cower against the pillow.

‘Where’s Edna?’ she said, her wide scared eyes scouring the room. ‘Please … I want Edna.’

Trembling inside, his senses scrambled, he swiftly assessed the situation. It was clear she had wandered in here, looking for comfort … maybe even looking for love. After all, it wasn’t all that long ago they had been man and wife in every sense.

Turning on the bedside lamp he grabbed his robe from the back of the chair and, slinging it on, tied it tight around the front. ‘It’s all right, sweetheart …’ Holding out his hand he gave a sigh of relief when she took hold of it.

Sliding off the bed, she asked meekly, ‘Will you get Edna for me?’

‘In the morning,’ he promised. ‘I’ll fetch Edna in the morning.’ He lifted her gently into bed and covered her over. ‘You’d best stay here tonight,’ he said. ‘I won’t be far away.’

‘You won’t leave me, will you?’

‘No, I won’t leave you.’

He stayed by her as promised, moving his armchair beside the bed, while she lay, quiet now, slipping gently into a calming sleep. ‘It’s all right,’ he said as she twice opened her eyes. ‘I’m here.’

Soon she was sound asleep. ‘Oh, dear God, Sylvia, what’s happened to you … to us?’ He looked on that beautiful face, and his heart went out to her. To his mind there was no point in apportioning blame; it had all gone far beyond that.

He thought of Amy again, and his mouth twisted in a smile.

Amy was his dream and Sylvia was his reality.

He was still thinking of Amy when the soothing waves of sleep overwhelmed him.

In the morning, while Sylvia was sleeping soundly, he got quickly dressed and summoned Edna on the telephone he’d had installed at her home.

‘You can’t go on like this,’ Edna chided. ‘Just look at the state of you! You look terrible – dark rims under your eyes and a haggard look about you that tells the world you’ve not slept a full night in goodness knows how long.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Luke protested. ‘A bath and a good breakfast, and I’ll be good as new.’ Though having slept in the chair all night had not helped his poor bones, which ached in every direction.

Edna threw aside his protests. ‘How in God’s name d’you think you can run a factory without a good night’s sleep, tell me that?’

‘I do all right,’ he answered. ‘There’s no need for you to worry on that score.’

‘Oh, aye! You might well “do all right”, as you say, but for how long, eh? How long will it be afore you fall ill, or your brain won’t function because it’s half asleep? What then, eh?’

‘Stop nagging me, woman!’ he groaned, but fondly. ‘I’m fit as a fiddle, and my brain’s as sharp as a tack. The factory will be fine and so will I.’

‘I’ve a suggestion to make,’ she persisted. ‘Let me move in.’

Taken aback he wanted to know, ‘And what would poor Harry think about that?’

‘He’d welcome it; says my snoring keeps him awake at night.’

Luke chuckled. ‘So, you want to come here and keep me awake, is that it? I’m grateful to you,’ he said, ‘but there’s really no need.’ It seemed too extreme a measure.

Edna nodded. ‘All right, if you’re sure. But will you promise me … you’ll ask me to stay if you’re ever worried, or if she’s disturbed your sleep too often?’

‘She hardly ever disturbs my sleep, as you know, Edna. Once Sylvia goes to her bed, she usually sleeps soundly enough.’

‘Not lately she hasn’t.’

‘She’s going through a bad patch right now,’ Luke said. ‘I’m sure she’ll settle down.’ In fact things seemed to be getting worse, but he didn’t want to worry Edna unduly.

‘So, will you promise?’

He gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘You’re a bossy devil and no mistake,’ he said. ‘And, yes, I promise, if I find I can’t manage, we’ll talk about you staying over. Now, is it all right with you if I go and get my bath? I don’t want to be late this morning. We’ve a big delivery to get out to a new customer. It’s a huge order and could lead to more business, so I’d like to oversee it personally.’

Edna was satisfied. ‘You get yersel’ ready,’ she told him. ‘Mrs Hammond’s still sleeping soundly, so I’ll start your breakfast. It’ll be on the table when you come down.’

‘What would I do without you?’ he asked, and she replied, ‘I’ve no doubt you’d manage. Meanwhile, shift yerself or you’ll be late.’

As he went up the stairs he called out wryly, ‘Sometimes I wonder who’s the boss in this house, you or me!’

‘It’s me,’ she called back, ‘and just you remember that!’

Luke went into the bathroom, chuckling. ‘Edna, you’re a gem, what are you?’

She didn’t hear him. She was too busy throwing the bacon into the pan; followed by a handful of sliced tomatoes and a couple of mushrooms.

Pretty soon the delicious aroma of bacon cooking filled the house. ‘Yer may be short on sleep,’ Edna chunnered to herself, ‘but while I’m about, you can be sure of a good breakfast afore you leave this house. A man in your situation needs feeding up. Haunted at home, haunted at work … By, it’s a wonder you’re not stark-staring mad!’

‘I hate Monday mornings!’ Roy always started the day shivering, whatever the weather. ‘Jesus! It’s bloody freezing in here!’ Having taken off his jacket he soon put it back on again. ‘It’s colder in here than it is outside.’

Jack looked at his mate, a small, shivering wreck. ‘You could do with more fat on your bones,’ he said. ‘The sun’s shining and it looks like another glorious day, and here’s you shivering like a jelly. If you’re that cold, run up and down for a minute or two,’ he added with a grin.

Roy wouldn’t have it. ‘The boiler can’t be on,’ he argued through chattering teeth.

‘Come here!’ Like a mother-cat with a kitten, Jack got the little fella by the scruff of the neck and marched him to the wall. Pointing to the large, round meter attached to an army of pipes, he said, ‘There y’are. Up and working and warming the place as we speak. Leave your coat on, give it half an hour, and you’ll be warm as toast.’

Jack was right. Half an hour later the large open area was heated to the right temperature. The men were at work and Roy had taken off his coat and was looking much more comfortable.

From his vantage point at the top of the stairs, Jack oversaw the workforce. To his left, the men were waiting by the lorries and to his right, the rows of machine-hands, producing the many different brushes to be quickly stacked, were ready for inspection.

Deciding to take another look at the production line, he went down the stairs and across the loading bay, to where Amy’s father, Dave, along with two other drivers were waiting for the word.

‘Ready when you are, Jack.’ That was Dave. ‘We’re all back from the station run, and now we’re waiting on the brush delivery. The wagons are swept out and clean. All we need are the loads on, then we’ll be away.’

‘You did well getting the distribution orders out on time,’ Jack acknowledged. ‘I know Mr Hammond appreciates you all turning in extra early to get it done.’

‘So long as the appreciation shows up in us wage packets, that’s all right,’ Bert, Dave’s friend, who was a loader, laughed.

‘So, how long d’you think it might be afore we can be away with this new brush order?’ Dave asked.

‘Not too long,’ Jack promised. ‘Mr Hammond will be here shortly. As soon as he approves the quality, we’ll have them packed and loaded.’

Since meeting Amy and realising Dave was her father, Jack had been amazed at how alike they were; not in looks but in mannerism – both homely creatures with no pretence about them, and bright, ready smiles. He didn’t want to let Dave know that he had met his daughter. That was up to Amy, but only if and when she wanted to.

At the brush production line, the men were eager too.

‘He can examine ’em all he likes,’ an old work-hand told Jack, ‘but he’ll not find a single misshapen base or one loose bristle. Matter o’ fact, I’ll go so far as to say, me and the men have taken more care with this little lot than we’ve ever taken … and that’s not to say we’ve not allus been vigilant in turning out the best brushes in Lancashire.’

‘I already know that, Will,’ Jack assured him, ‘and so, I’m sure, does Mr Hammond. But you know how important this contract is – a new outlet, at top prices, and the promise of even more business to follow.’

‘Aye, we know that, Jack, and we’ll not let him down, ’cos if we do, it’ll be like letting ourselves down.’

‘You’re right!’ Jack agreed, ‘especially as Mr Hammond is pulling out all the stops – new machinery, new wagons and even a new boiler system. He intends taking us up and up. No matter how good we’ve already proven our merchandise to be, we’re on trial with every new customer. One shoddy piece of merchandise and it’s back to square one.’

One of the newly started young men stepped forward. ‘He’ll not find any shoddy workmanship here.’ Unlike the other men, he did not appreciate the fact that Jack had come straight to Hammonds when not much more than a bairn. From the start, he had been a quick learner and dedicated to his work. He knew the business inside out, and was fast becoming Luke Hammond’s right-hand man.

All this envious young upstart could see was that Jack was not much older than himself, yet he wore the foreman’s brown overall. ‘Like Will ’ere says, these brushes must be the best in the whole of Lancashire. Tek a look and see for yourself.’

And because he knew Luke Hammond would do the very same, Jack did exactly that.

A few moments later he told the men he was well satisfied. ‘But it’s not me who needs to be satisfied,’ he reminded them, ‘it’s the big man, and I’m sure he will be.’ That said, he thanked them and set off towards the office.

‘Cocky bugger!’ The young man’s envy was written all over his face. ‘It’s not right, somebody in his twenties telling you men what to do –’

He would have gone on, but was interrupted. ‘You don’t know what yer talking about, son!’ A big ruddy-faced man spoke for all of them. ‘Jack deserves the foreman’s overall; he’s earned it. What’s more, he deserves a bit more respect from the likes of you. He knows more about these machines and this business than you’ll ever know! We might be older and wiser than him in many ways, but he’s been here longer than many of us and Mr Hammond knows his value.’

The other men nodded in full agreement, but it was young Roy who spoke for them, ‘Aye, and it wouldn’t surprise any of us, if Jack weren’t running things round here one day.’

Unaware of these exchanges, Jack collected the paperwork from his office. Coming back down the stairs, he saw the supervisor enter through the main doors. He was a thin, sour-faced man who, because of his habitual lateness and lack of enthusiasm, was already under warning from Luke Hammond. He gave Jack the sign that Mr Hammond had turned into the outer gates.

Intending to have a word with him about not being around when he’d searched for him earlier, Jack merely acknowledged him for now and made his way to the main doors, where Luke was already in sight.

‘Morning, Mr Hammond.’

‘Morning, Jack. The men briefed, are they?’

‘They are, sir. They’re well aware of how important this new order is and, if you don’t mind me saying so, I think you’ll find they’ve done you proud.’

Luke smiled. ‘It sounds as though you’ve already inspected the order.’

‘I have, and I think it’s a fine batch of brushes.’

Luke nodded appreciatively. ‘Good! Right, let’s have a look, shall we?’

With Jack following, he walked along the line of brush machines, talking to each of the twelve operators as he went.

His first stop was the broom-heads, where he dipped at random into the stacks, to check both quality and bristle quantity. Next the scrubbing brushes and miscellaneous, then the small hand brushes, and finally the large yard broom-heads.

With each one he turned the brush over, checking for bristle quality, possible missed holes, and that the bristle bunches were driven deep into the holes. When that was done he turned the broom-head sideways to check the straightness of the cut, and that none was misshapen.

Finally he thanked the work hands and returned to the office with Jack, where he told Jack that he needed a word with the supervisor.

‘I’m not happy with him,’ Luke said. ‘He’s turned out to be shifty and lazy, and he’s never on time. The men see it all and it isn’t good. He’s already had too many chances and doesn’t seem to take a blind bit of notice.’

In a matter of minutes, Jack tracked down the thin, sour-faced individual.

Luke outlined the man’s lack of enthusiasm for his work, and his inability to take instruction, either from Luke or Jack. ‘The men are aware of what’s going on,’ Luke continued, ‘and it’s not acceptable. You’ll be paid a week’s wages and leave straight away. There’s no reason for you to serve out your notice, especially not when you haven’t the slightest interest in what you’re doing.’

The man swore and cursed and made many a threat, and even as Jack escorted him to the main doors, he was struggling, making it necessary for Jack to manhandle him roughly out of the building.

‘You’d best keep an eye out for that one,’ Luke told Jack. ‘He can be a nasty piece of work.’

He also asked Jack to search out a new supervisor.

‘I think we should look in the ranks of men we’ve already got,’ Jack suggested and, trusting him to make the best choice, Luke told him to use his own judgement.

After Luke had gone, Jack had a brief idea that he might train Roy as supervisor, but his better instinct told him that Roy was not yet ready, and that one of the older, more experienced men would serve the firm better.

Later, during tea-break, he told Roy how he had been half tempted to train him up.

Roy replied exactly as Jack might have expected. ‘I’m not ready. And besides, like you say, it wouldn’t go down well with the other men.’

‘That was my thinking,’ Jack admitted. His first concern was always the company, and both men knew that. ‘Your time will come, though,’ he promised Roy, and Roy’s confidence swelled a mile.

‘I’ll wait until you get your own firm,’ he told Jack with a wink. ‘I’ve a feeling it won’t be too long afore we see you as yer own boss.’

‘That’s a long way down the road yet,’ Jack answered. Though, in his heart it was all he wanted: to be his own boss, with his own business, and – the idea shot fully formed into his head – the lovely Amy to come home to every night.

That was his dream and he would settle for nothing else.

At six p.m. a whistle signalled the end of another working day. Roy lingered to wait for Jack, and they walked part-way home together.

‘I’m seeing Daisy tomorrow,’ Roy revealed with a confident little grin. ‘I think she really likes me.’

‘If that’s true, try not to mess it up this time,’ was Jack’s friendly advice. ‘She’s a decent lass.’

‘I know that now,’ Roy said. ‘She’s better than I deserve, and I’ll try never to let her down again.’

‘Oh no, that won’t do!’ Jack cautioned him. ‘If you want to keep her, you’ll need to do more than “try”.’

For a while, the two of them walked along, their heavy boots clattering against the flagstones and their minds filled with private thoughts.

‘What about Amy?’ Roy asked presently. ‘It looked to me as though you were making a good impression there.’ He grinned mischievously. ‘Fond of her, are yer?’

‘More than fond,’ Jack replied, his voice dropping to a whisper. ‘To tell you the truth, I reckon I’m falling in love.’

Roy whistled. ‘Bloody hell, Jack. Steady on!’

Reluctant to discuss Amy any further, Jack skilfully changed the subject. ‘So? You really want to make a go of it with Daisy then?’

‘Yes, I’m hoping so. What’s wrong with that, eh?’

‘So you’re determined to mend your ways, are you?’

Taking offence at Jack’s comment, Roy brought himself and Jack to a halt. ‘What’s the matter with you? What are you getting at?’ Though he already had an idea of what Jack was referring to.

‘You’ve some shady friends, that’s all,’ he said.

‘What about ’em?’

‘D’you intend to carry on seeing them?’

‘Not all of ’em, no. I’ll admit I’ve met some devious devils,’ he confessed, ‘and I know they got me in more trouble than I could handle, but they’re long gone. I don’t hear from them, and I don’t want to.’

‘But what about the one who lives down your street?’ Jack persisted.

‘Y’mean Don Carson?’

Jack nodded. ‘Will you go on seeing him?’ Roy almost always confided in him, so he knew Roy still paid him a visit now and then. He also knew that the fella was a close pal of Arnold Stratton, the man who had been gaoled for badly beating Luke Hammond’s wife.

‘I know what yer thinking: that I might get Daisy involved in summat bad, and that Don Carson is every bit as evil as Stratton. Well, he’s not all bad. He’s a rough diamond, sure enough, with an eye for dodgy deals and fast women, but he’s tried to go straight so many times. Trouble is, he’s easily tempted. One time he was even going to settle down and get married. I don’t know what went wrong, but I reckon Don just couldn’t manage the responsibility. But he’s been a good friend to me, helped me when I was down, and I’ll not snub him now.’

The irony of mentioning Don’s former fiancée to Jack in this way did not escape Roy, but it wasn’t Amy he was defending.

Always wary, Jack warned, ‘I know it’s none of my business, Roy, but if you’re as serious about Daisy as you claim, then you need to think long and hard about this: the truth is, the company you keep might well turn out to be the company Daisy will keep. Don’t forget that.’

Given food for thought, Roy remained silent until he and Jack parted company at the bottom of Penny Street. ‘Are you seeing Amy tonight?’ he asked of Jack.

‘I’d like to,’ Jack answered, ‘but she and Daisy are doing “girlie” things – and don’t ask me what that might be, ’cos I don’t know.’

Roy suggested it might be something to do with Daisy telling him she was having her hair trimmed. ‘I told her I liked it the way it was,’ he said, ‘but it didn’t seem to matter what I thought.’

Jack laughed. ‘Never interfere with a woman and her hair,’ he advised. ‘It’s one of those mysterious things men are supposed to know nothing about.’

‘See you in the morning then?’

‘You will.’

‘Good night then.’

‘Good night,’ Jack called after him. ‘And don’t be late!’

While Jack’s journey home to the top end of Penny Street was a mere ten minutes or so, it took twice that long for Roy to get to Johnson Street.

By the time he closed the door to his bedsit, it was already going on for seven o’clock.

A sparsely furnished part of a large Victorian house, his living accommodation consisted of one long, wide room, the bottom of which was curtained off as a bedroom.

In the bedroom part was a narrow bed, a sturdy if unattractive chest of drawers, which also served as a dressing table, and a chair that, with well-worn, dipped seat and sagging upholstery, had seen better days.

The rest of the room was furnished with a grubby old sofa, a small table with drop-down leaves and barley-twist legs and, standing proud on top of a tall slim cupboard, a handsome wireless.

There was also a horsehair-stuffed armchair, from which a multitude of black bristles protruded, and a green rug covering a greater part of the linoleum floor.

To one side of the room was a makeshift kitchen, consisting of a gas stove and a cupboard. There was a small wooden pantry containing a packet of tea, a half-used bag of sugar, a small uncut loaf and a pat of butter. The hinged drop-down lid served as a worktop. The bathroom, which was situated out on the landing, was shared with four other tenants.

The flat wasn’t much, but it was his home and, sparse though it was, Roy considered it to be far more welcoming than the one he had shared with his parents. But that was a long time ago. He had always intended to better himself, but as yet he had not encountered the fortune he believed was waiting for him round every corner.

After washing and shaving, he devoured a cheese sandwich with a mug of tea, then he sat on the chair with his feet up on the table and, eyes closed, listened to the evening music on the wireless.

He was tired yet excited. He thought of Daisy and he couldn’t sit still, so he put on his coat and departed the building.

Don Carson lived on the same street, just a few doors away. Roy visited him often, but had not seen him since he met Daisy again. Tonight he could hardly wait to tell him about his new girlfriend.

After Roy’s three knocks on the front door of Don Carson’s humble abode, Don answered the door.

Unshaven and wearing only his vest and trousers, he looked as if he’d just got out of bed. ‘Oh, it’s you!’ Running his hand through his tousled hair, he stepped back to let Roy shove past. ‘You’d best come inside,’ he invited wearily.

Having followed Don along the passage and into the back parlour, Roy threw himself into a chair. ‘What’s up with you?’ He observed how tired the older man looked, and how he was neither shaved nor properly dressed. ‘I’ve never seen yer look such a mess!’

‘Well, thanks, that’s all I need!’ Taking a long, noisy sigh, Don explained, ‘I’ve been out all day, looking for work, but soonever I mention I’ve been in gaol, they don’t want to know.’

‘Why don’t yer lie to ’em?’

‘What’s the use o’ doing that?’ the other man asked. ‘They’d find out sooner or later.’

‘Work for yersel’ then.’

The other man sat down, his sharp eyes trained on Roy. ‘Oh, yeah, doing what?’

‘Don’t ask me,’ Roy shrugged. ‘You’ve allus found summat in the past. Rob a bank or summat.’ He laughed at his own suggestion. ‘That’s it,’ he cried jubilantly. ‘Rob a bank, why don’t yer?’

‘Don’t be so daft, man!’ Don snapped. ‘I wouldn’t know the first thing about robbing a bank. That’s right out of my league. Besides, the last thing I need is to get thrown back inside. I’ve had enough of gaol to last me a lifetime.’

‘D’yer want me to keep my eyes and ears open?’ Roy was eager to make amends. ‘They sometimes take folk on at building sites with no questions asked. I’ll mek a few enquiries if yer like?’

‘Thanks all the same, but I don’t fancy working outdoors …’ Don chuckled. ‘Being in the nick seems to have spoiled me. Still, I’m not destitute yet,’ he claimed. ‘I do a bit here and there – buying and selling and such – but it won’t last for ever. And lately it hasn’t brought in the money, so I will need to get permanent work. I know that.’

Thinking about gaol, Roy asked, ‘Do you still visit Arnold Stratton?’

‘Course I do!’ Don answered angrily. ‘I’m not one to abandon a mate in trouble.’

Ready to change the subject, he regarded Roy with a degree of curiosity. ‘Talking about Hammonds – as we kind of were – you seem to be settling down really well there.’

‘Aye, an’ I’m doing all right,’ Roy revealed. ‘I reckon if I stay on the straight and narrow, I might even be up for supervisor afore too long.’

Don laughed. ‘Bugger me! You really are knuckling down.’ He wagged a finger. ‘There’s got to be a girl involved somewhere,’ he declared with a grin. ‘That’s it! You’ve got tangled up with some girl and gone all broody.’

Blushing to the roots of his hair, Roy said, ‘All right, don’t get too clever.’ His face creased in a smile. ‘Her name’s Daisy and she’s a good sort.’

‘Daisy, eh?’ Don made an expression of approval. ‘And do you intend settling down with this Daisy? Is that the reason for your sudden enthusiasm in working for a living?’

‘And what if it is?’ Roy asked sharply.

The other man apologised. ‘Don’t tek it so serious,’ he said kindly. ‘I were only joshing. Matter o’ fact, I’m interested in a certain woman meself. Smart as a tack and twice as handsome.’ His grin widened. ‘The name’s Helen …’ he laughed again, ‘… or so she says, but I’ve a feeling she’s lying, for whatever reason.’

‘What! You mean you don’t know her real name?’

‘It’s not her name I’m interested in,’ Don replied with a wink. ‘Besides, it’s not a serious thing … not like you and this Daisy. We’re just having a bit o’ fun, if you know what I mean?’

From his friend’s manner and the way he was looking at him, Roy sensed there was more. ‘Have I met her?’

‘Nope.’

‘Am I going to?’

‘Not if I can help it, no.’

Roy began to understand. ‘She’s wed, isn’t she?’

‘She hasn’t said, and I’m not asking,’ came the reply. ‘All we want is a good time. Like I said, we’re not looking to settle down. It makes no difference to me one way or the other. She arrives, we play around, and then she goes. And that’s the way I like it.’

Roy was curious. ‘Can I ask you summat?’

‘You might as well. You’ve done nowt else since you got here. So, what else do you want to know?’

Roy took a deep breath. ‘D’you know a young woman by the name of Amy Atkinson?’ He had been curious ever since Daisy told him that Carson was Amy’s ex-fiancé.

There was a long, unsettling pause, during which Roy thought he should never have mentioned it, because now the other man was staring at the floor as if he’d gone into some sort of trance.

Eventually Don looked up, his expression surprisingly soft. ‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘Amy and me were once engaged to be wed. How do you know her?’ he asked sharply. And before Roy could answer he added quietly, ‘You’re not messing with her, are you?’

‘No, I’m not messing with her, as you put it,’ Roy was quick to explain. ‘And neither is Jack.’

Carson was suddenly alert. ‘And who might Jack be?’

Roy thought he might have touched on a jealous streak. ‘Jack and Amy are seeing each other,’ he said. ‘I don’t know how serious it is, but I have to say, they do seem to have hit it off together.’

There was another moment of silence, before the other man remarked softly, ‘As long as he looks after her, it’s none of my business.’ Looking Roy straight in the eyes, he explained, ‘Like I say, we were engaged to be wed. In fact, we got as far as booking the church and all that stuff.’

‘I see. And what happened then? Why did you never get wed?’

‘I hadn’t told her I’d been in prison, and it got as I couldn’t tell her. I was trying so hard to go straight when I met Amy, and she was part of that – something good to aim for and live up to. But I set my sights too high. I got to realising I could never keep it up, and one day my grubby little past would all come out, or I’d let her down and fall into my bad old ways. I’ll allus be a drinker and a two-timer and a ruffian – I know that now. I liked her mam and dad too. I couldn’t hurt them all. I kept putting off mekking the break. Then suddenly the wedding was just a few days away and I had to do it before it was too late.

‘Luckily they all work long hours so I know they’re not around Blackburn much during the week, but I’ve been very careful to avoid anywhere I might bump into them.’

‘Crikey!’ Roy thought it must have taken some guts to back out of a wedding as close as that. ‘And have you no regrets?’

‘Well, of course I have! Amy’s a lovely person, as good and kind as the day’s long. I hurt her bad by trying to avoid hurting her even worse.’ He took a minute to remember. ‘That’s what I regret most.’

Suddenly he was on his feet, and demanding in a harsh voice, ‘So what’s this Jack like?’

‘He’s all right,’ Roy told him. ‘He won’t hurt her. You’ve no need to worry on that score.’

Roy’s answer seemed to calm him. ‘How did they meet?’

‘Me and Jack were out on the town when we just sorta met up with Amy and Daisy. Then another time, we met up again.’ He wisely made no mention of his own shameful part in that first meeting. ‘Me and Daisy get on like a house on fire. In fact, we’re even talking about getting wed.’

Don laughed at that. ‘You didn’t mention me to Amy, did you?’ he asked then.

‘Nope.’

‘Don’t!’

‘Why not?’

‘Because there’s no point. When I left her in the lurch it was a cruel thing. I’m not proud of what I did. What’s done is done and can’t be undone, so keep your mouth shut.’

‘Don’t worry, my lips are sealed.’ And he meant it.

Carson glanced at the clock. ‘You’d best soon make tracks,’ he said. ‘I need to get washed and changed.’

Roy understood. ‘Got a woman coming, have yer?’

‘I might have,’ Carson admitted, ‘so you can bugger off and make yourself scarce.’

‘Helen, is it?’ Roy licked his lips teasingly. ‘I might like to introduce myself.’

Carson laughed. ‘I thought you were already gone, on your new girlfriend?’

‘I am. I’ve met the one I want, and she’s more than enough.’

‘Just as well then, because Helen’s a different kettle of fish altogether. I doubt if you could even move in her circles.’

‘Oh, I see … a rich bitch, is she?’

Smugly, Carson nodded. ‘Rich, handsome, and needing to be satisfied on a regular basis, if you understand my meaning?’

Coming across the room he threatened to manhandle Roy out of the door. ‘I’ve told you, I need to get washed and changed. Sometimes she gets here too early and catches me in the rough. I don’t like that. I have my pride like any man.’

‘All right, keep your shirt on. I’m leaving, I’m leaving.’

As he went he told Carson from a safe distance, ‘Enjoy yourselves, and don’t worry about me. I’ll call round tomorrow and you can give me a full account.’

‘Sod off!’ Carson gave him a final shove out the door. ‘Get and find your own entertainment,’ he suggested with a sly little chuckle.

As Roy crossed the street he was almost run down by a cab in a hurry. ‘Watch where you’re going!’ Roy yelled as the taxi passed by. ‘You nearly ’ad my bloody feet off then!’

When the taxi slowed down, Roy considered tackling the driver for his carelessness. Instead his curiosity was aroused when the taxi came to a halt outside Carson’s place.

The woman who stepped out of it was exactly as Carson had described: well-dressed and well-built in all the right places, she was more than a cut above the rest.

But there was something else about her that intrigued him, yet for the life of him, he couldn’t think what it was.

He watched her walk up the path, and he saw her knock on the door, and now, as she seemed to sense him there, she turned and smiled at him.

It was then that he realised who she was, and he could hardly believe it.

‘My God!’ Excitement coursed through him. ‘It’s Luke Hammond’s sister-in-law!’

He had seen her twice; once when she came to bring Hammond some documents from the house, and once when she came to collect her sister, Sylvia, who had come looking for her husband and thrown a tantrum when he was out on business.

He continued to watch her. Even before she had turned back towards the door, Carson was there to usher her inside.

Still reeling from the shock, Roy hurried away. ‘It’s just as well Carson doesn’t know who she is,’ he decided. This rich bitch really was roughing it.

He gave a whistle. ‘I wonder what Arnold Stratton would say if he knew Carson was mixing with a Hammond?’

As he walked on, shock soon turned to amusement. ‘Luke Hammond’s sister-in-law, roughing it with a man like Carson!’ He rolled his eyes. ‘By! It’s a turn-up for the books, and no mistake!’

Unable to contain himself, he made his way straight to Jack’s place. The small house in Penny Street was furnished better than he himself could afford, a step up from his own humble abode.

‘I thought I’d seen the last of you till tomorrow.’ Jack was just beginning to settle down for an hour of music on the wireless, before getting an early night. ‘Tea or coffee?’ he asked, inviting him inside.

‘Ain’t you got nothing stronger?’

‘No.’

‘Coffee then. I can’t abide tea … especially not when you make it. I put up with enough dish-water at the factory,’ he grumbled, ‘I don’t see why I should put up with it in my own free time.’

‘That’s where we differ, you and me,’ Jack informed him.

‘Is that so?’ Always at home in Jack’s place, Roy sat himself down. ‘And how d’you mek that out?’

Turning to answer, Jack paused at the kitchen door, ‘Because you tend to see your time at the factory as being forced on you, in order to earn a living.’

‘Too bloody right I do!’

Understanding Roy’s point of view, Jack admitted, ‘There was a time early on, when I felt like you … hated getting up in the morning and seeing it as precious time wasted, but now I see it in a different way.’

Roy had always known there was more to Jack than met the eye, so he wasn’t surprised to learn he had a plan. ‘So, what changed?’ he wanted to know. ‘How d’you see it now?’

Jack answered in simple terms, ‘I used to see it as me working for somebody else and making them well-off. Now though, I look on it as all good experience … it’s learning time, in preparation for my own business. The more I learn, the better I’ll be, and the better I am, the quicker I’ll get somebody to believe in me … say a bank manager, or a backer who’ll take a risk on me.’

Roy nodded in agreement. ‘By! If I had the money,’ he declared boldly, ‘I’d back you myself.’

‘Honest? Would you?’ Knowing Roy’s wicked sense of humour, Jack never knew when to believe what he said. ‘Or are you just having me on?’

‘Am I heck as like!’ Roy was genuinely indignant. ‘Any fool can see you’ll have your own business one day, it’s just a matter o’ time.’ He gave a knowing wink. ‘I dare say once you get your own premises, you’ll be away with the best. And what’s more, I’ll be right there … your right-hand man, looking out for you all the way. Ain’t that what best friends are for?’

Jack laughed. ‘Looking out for yourself, you mean,’ he chided, before adding in a serious voice, ‘It’s allus been my dream, to get my own premises. And when I do, I promise you hand on heart, you will be alongside me, and we’ll look out for each other. How does that suit you?’

‘Suits me just fine.’ Roy was thrilled. ‘I’ll be the first in my rotten family, to be a foreman.’

‘Hey, don’t get carried away! I never said you’d be foreman.’

‘You’ll not be able to refuse,’ Roy was confident. ‘I’d work my socks off and learn the trade inside out. You’d be proud of me so you would. What! I’d be the best foreman you ever had.’

‘All right then,’ Jack laughed at his brashness, ‘I’ll think about it.’

While Jack made the coffee, Roy made himself comfortable. ‘D’you want to know a secret?’ he asked tantalisingly.

Jack popped his head round the kitchen door. ‘What have you been up to now?’

‘I’ve not been up to nowt! It’s just that I know summat you don’t.’

Jack returned to making the coffee. ‘What’s that then?’

‘I’ve just been round to see Don.’

‘So?’ Returning with the coffee, Jack declared, ‘There’s nothing mysterious about going to Don’s place,’ he said. ‘You visit him most weeks that I know of.’

Lounging in the chair, Roy took a leisurely sip of his coffee. ‘I just thought you might be interested in what I’ve just seen.’

‘Now, why would that be?’ Settling into his armchair, one long leg dangling over the side of the chair and the other stretched out to the hearth, Jack waited for an answer.

Roy placed his cup in the hearth and leaned forward, his eyes aglow as he imparted his newly discovered secret. ‘He’s got a new woman friend.’

Jack stopped him right there. ‘Aw, look, I’ve no interest in the man’s love-life, for God’s sake. Why would I want to know a thing like that, eh?’

Undeterred, Roy continued, ‘She told him her name was Helen, only her name isn’t. It’s Georgina.’

‘Helen, Georgina …’ Jack shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter to me either way. Now then, is there another reason why you’ve foisted yourself on me tonight, because if there isn’t and you intend talking about Carson’s new woman-friend, I can think of a thousand better ways to use my time.’ Standing up, he headed for the kitchen. ‘So, you might as well drink up and head for the street.’

Roy’s voice followed him. ‘She’s Luke Hammond’s sister-in-law.’

Stunned, Jack spun round. ‘Your gaolbird friend … and Hammond’s classy sister-in-law? What kind o’ sad joke is that?’

‘It’s no joke,’ Roy said, ‘and there’s more.’ Having now caught Jack’s interest, he deliberately paused, a look of mischief curling his face. ‘Oh, I forgot! You don’t want to hear about it, do you?’

Intrigued, Jack returned to sit down again. ‘What else do you know? You’ve got this far, you might as well tell me the rest.’

Roy took his time, before revealing his own thoughts on the unlikely relationship. ‘Think about it, Jack,’ he urged. ‘Don Carson is pally with the man who attacked Sylvia Hammond. I know for a fact Don visits Stratton in gaol.’

Again he paused to let his words sink home. ‘And now her glamorous sister is on the scene … making up to Don like there’s no tomorrow.’

Realistic as ever, Jack mused aloud, ‘Happen they just fancy each other?’

‘It’s all too convenient,’ Roy insisted. ‘My bet is she must have found out that Don was pally with the man who damaged her sister.’

Thinking on it, Jack slowly chewed on his bottom lip, as he did when something bothered him. ‘It doesn’t make any sense, does it?’ He wondered if it was a cruel twist of Fate, or simply animal attraction. Besides, even if she did know the connection between Carson and her sister’s attacker, there was nothing much she could do about it.

‘I must admit it’s an odd coincidence, though,’ he went on. ‘This Georgina is not short of a bob or two; she’s attractive and desirable by anybody’s standard, so why would a woman like that want a man like Carson?’

Roy had the answer. ‘To get even for what happened to her sister.’

‘But the man who attacked her sister is already behind bars.’

Roy nodded affirmatively. ‘I know that,’ he replied, ‘and I don’t know how she means to get her own back, but for the life of me, I can’t see any other reason for her to come after Don.’

‘I can!’ Like a light had switched on in his mind, Jack had seen something Roy couldn’t see, or didn’t want to.

‘What’s on your mind, Jack?’

‘Your friend, Don.’

‘What about him?’

‘You’re not his only friend, are you?’

‘You know I’m not. He’s got a lot o’ good friends.’

‘Ex-convicts like himself, are they?’

Not too comfortable with his line of questioning, Roy demanded to know, ‘What are you getting at, Jack?’

Jack revealed his thoughts. ‘I’m wondering about Georgina,’ he said. ‘I’m wondering if she’s the kind of person who would want her sister’s attacker done away with, and if she did, who better to go to than an ex-convict, with contacts who might well be prepared to carry out a sort of execution … for a price?’

Against his better instincts, Roy could see the feasibility of what Jack was proposing, and was shocked by it. ‘Jesus! Are you saying she might ask Don to put out a contract on Stratton?’

Throwing out his hands in a gesture of helplessness, Jack asked, ‘What do I know? But look, mate … you have to admit, it’s not beyond the realms of possibility. Is it?’

‘You must be bloody mad!’ Scrambling out of the chair, Roy slammed his half-empty cup onto the mantelpiece. ‘You don’t know him like I do!’ Shock trembled his voice. ‘All right, I’ll admit … Don Carson spent time in gaol, so he’s an ex-convict and keeps in touch with others of his kind. But I’m an ex-con too, and I keep in touch with Don, so you could say we’re out of the same mould.’

‘I never said any such thing!’ Getting out of his chair Jack confronted him. ‘All I’m saying is, this woman might not be what he thinks. After what he did to her own flesh and blood, she might want Stratton taken out for good, if you know what I mean?’

‘You might be right,’ Roy agreed, ‘but even if you are, there’s nothing I can do about it.’

Jack disagreed. ‘If you think Carson is a genuine mate, and not capable of organising a hit man, then tell him to check her out. Tell him who she is, and –’

‘I’m telling him nothing!’ Roy snapped. ‘He wouldn’t thank me for it, and I wouldn’t blame him. Besides, you’re wrong about him. You said yourself, you know nothing about the man, while I’ve served time alongside him; slept on the bunk above him and talked well into the night about nothing and everything. We’ve ate garbage at the same table; slopped out together and looked out for each other.’

He paused, remembering how it used to be, and hating every last minute he’d wasted of his life. ‘I reckon I know Don Carson well enough to be sure he’d never get mixed up in what you say. He might be a petty thief and he might like to use his fist when he’s had a drink or two. But he wouldn’t entertain murder … not for a woman, nor a wad o’ money, however tempting. He just wouldn’t do it!’

Jack nodded. ‘All right, matey, forget what I just said. Happen she just fancies him after all, eh?’ Placing his two hands on the smaller man’s shoulders, he smiled to ease the tension. This was the first time he and Roy had exchanged such strong words. ‘Happen he gives her what she can’t get from her other men, eh? A bit o’ rough and tumble.’

‘Mebbe.’

‘I didn’t mean anything by what I said. You asked me what I thought and I thought wrong. OK?’

Calmer now, Roy nodded, ‘OK.’

‘So, will you finish your coffee or what?’

‘No, I’d best make my way back.’ Needing to clear his head, he made his way to the door. ‘G’night, Jack.’

‘G’night, Roy.’

Following him to the door, Jack watched him go down the street, shoulders hunched and hands thrust deep in his pockets. ‘I think you’re getting out of your depth mixing with Carson,’ he mused, ‘but you’ll need to find that out for yourself, because I’ll not risk our friendship by interfering.’

Another startling thought occurred to him. ‘Unless o’ course you’re in danger. If I thought there was a chance you might be hurt …’ his expression darkened, ‘o’ course, that would be a different kettle offish altogether.’

Hurrying along, Roy heard the door close behind him. He looked back but Jack was already gone.

The chilling air seemed to clarify his thoughts, making him consider what Jack had said.

Now that there was a distance between himself and Jack, and the cool air had sharpened his reasoning, he could see the sense in at least some of what Jack had said. ‘I suppose it would make sense if she was planning to have Stratton done away with,’ he voiced his thoughts in a harsh whisper, ‘… considering what he did to her sister. But if she is keen to have him out of the way for good … and I’m not even sure about that … why would she go after Don? As far as I know, they go back a long way and they’ve allus looked out for each other.’

He tried to work it through in his mind. ‘If she’s done her homework … and she looks like the kinda woman who would, then she must know the last thing Don would do is to arrange for Arnold Stratton to be murdered. They’re best buddies for Chrissake!’

All the same, Jack’s warning was strong in his thoughts, and now, he was made to see things in a different light. ‘She is getting to him though,’ he admitted reluctantly, ‘even I could tell that. By! She’s the kind o’ witch who could worm herself all the way into a man’s soul if he wasn’t careful.’

He thought of the way Don looked when he spoke of her … kind of proud and excited all at the same time; wanting to look his best when she turned up, yet not complaining if she unexpectedly turned up early, when he was still in his rough.

‘It looks to me like she’s already twisting him round her little finger,’ he muttered. ‘If she can make him behave like a lovesick schoolboy, then what else can she do to him, eh?’

And back came the answer, ‘She could work on him, until he’s ready to do whatever she asks.’

He couldn’t believe what he was thinking. ‘Would Don really have his best friend done away with?’

He hated himself for even entertaining the idea. ‘No.’ The thought was abhorrent to him. ‘He wouldn’t. Never!’

He dismissed the notion from his mind as quickly as it had entered it.