Love,
Ned
He folded the note and gave it to Peggy’s mam. ‘It’s important,’ he said, and there was a strange kind of sadness in his voice. The exchange ended, he climbed back into the car. When he saw her crumple the note into her pinnie pocket, he muttered, ‘I hope she remembers to give it to Rosie.’ Pushing himself down into the seat, he wondered how his daughter-in-law might welcome him.
Adam gave no answer. He was engrossed in his own thoughts and, as always, Rosie was at the heart of them.
* * *
The guv’nor of the sidings had stopped being astonished at Rosie’s fever for work. Every morning, six days a week, she would arrive at the yard at seven-thirty on the dot. There was always a smile and a cheery greeting as he came to help her fill her pram. This morning, however, even with her new cart and the prospect of earning more, there was no cheery greeting, and her face was serious as she paid over her money. ‘I don’t know what time I’ll be back,’ she said. ‘There’s enough in the cart to take me twice as far as usual on the first round.’
‘If you had a horse to pull it, you could fill the cart right to the top,’ he declared, trying to bring a smile to her face.
‘Well, seeing as it’s me that’s doing the pulling, I’ll settle for what’s in it now.’ While she and the guv’nor were talking, Danny had wandered away. Suddenly she caught sight of him and her heart froze inside her. ‘DANNY, NO!’ Her voice sailed across the yard as she took to her heels and headed towards the railway tracks; the coal-filled wagons were silently shunting towards the bays where they would off-shoot their loads. Danny was close to the tracks. Too close for safety.
‘Jesus Christ!’ The guv’nor saw Danny only seconds after Rosie spotted him, and now she was running like the wind, terror in her eyes as she realised that Danny was unaware of the wagons creeping up on him.
Rosie heard the guv’nor calling out way behind her, fearing that she too was in danger of slipping beneath the wagons. But there was no stopping her now. All she could see was Danny, and he was in terrible danger. ‘DANNY, COME AWAY!’ Her voice sounded like that of a stranger, and her chest was so tight she could hardly breathe.
Before the big man could catch up, she had grabbed Danny and swung him out of the way. Clutching him to her, she watched the big iron wheels trundle by, and gave up a prayer of thanks. ‘Cut a man in two them wheels would.’ The guv’nor leaned forward, hands on his knees, gasping for breath. His small eyes were fierce with anger. ‘How many times have I told you to keep away from this part of the yard?’ he croaked.
‘I think he’s learned his lesson,’ Rosie replied protectively. She could feel the boy trembling in her arms.
Staring at her, the guv’nor snapped, ‘I shouldn’t really let you in here at all, bugger it!’ He had been frightened out of his wits. His fear made him angry, and the fact that he hadn’t been able to catch up with a slip of a woman like Rosie irked him down deep. ‘It’d be my bloody job on the line if they knew I let you in here.’ Having regained his breath enough to stand up, he breathed hard through his nose. The next rebuke came out on a rush of air. ‘What have you got to say for yourself, young fella?’ he demanded stonily.
‘It won’t happen again,’ Rosie promised. Holding Danny away from her, she looked into his white face. ‘Isn’t that so?’ Her voice was hard, chastising, and he knew she had been terrified. ‘You will never come near this part of the yard again, will you?’ He shook his head and she was satisfied.
‘I don’t know.’ The guv’nor scratched his head and thought. He had a great sympathy for Rosie. She was a woman with a man’s heart, a fighter he couldn’t help but admire. Yet, when she looked at him now, it was through the soft, pleading eyes of a mother. He couldn’t turn her away. ‘All right,’ he conceded. ‘But he’s not to leave your side.’ Glaring at the boy, he asked, ‘D’you understand?’
Danny nodded. ‘I’m sorry.’
The guv’nor studied him awhile. He studied Rosie, and told them both, ‘I must be stark staring mad!’ Then he ushered them back to the far end of the yard, where the cart was ready for off.
Only when they had gone with Rosie between the shafts and the boy pushing the cart from behind, did he go into his office.
Always too far behind to grab her, and wanting to be sure that the moment was right and she could not escape him, Doug Selby had followed Rosie to the yard. Exhausted and in crippling pain, he dropped behind one of the railway bays. His weakness and the altercation between Rosie and the guv’nor were enough to keep him there, with the intention of recouping his strength. ‘So’re coming back, are you?’ he sneered, settling deeper into the coal pile. ‘Well, you can be sure I’ll be waiting, Rosie my lovely.’ He laughed softly and it was a chilling sound. ‘How could I think of leaving without you?’
He rolled his agonised eyes to the heavens, but it was Hell he was contemplating.
The guv’nor put the kettle on. ‘Need a brew to calm my nerves,’ he muttered. Taking out a whisky bottle from the filing cabinet, he poured a measure of the golden liquid into a cup. ‘And a bit of fire to drive away the cold,’ he chuckled.
An hour later, he sat down to sort the mail. It was three days old, and he still hadn’t got round to dealing with it. ‘Best get this lot out of the way before the postman arrives with another bag full,’ he grumbled, slitting open the envelopes one after the other. There were two bills, a catalogue for shovels and equipment, a reminder that the holiday periods had to be entered, and a letter. ‘Hello, what’s this then?’ Normally there were no letters as such, only official documents and trade brochures.
The letter was from Adam Roach, advising the guv’nor that he would be calling in at the sidings Saturday at midday: ‘to discuss business’. ‘Bloody Hell!’ He glanced up at the clock in horror. ‘That’s today.’
The clerk, who up to now had made himself scarce in the back office, poked his head round the door. ‘What’s that, guv?’ A small thin man with a flat face and a great shock of black hair, he resembled a floor mop.
‘You should have checked this mail, bugger you. Am I expected to do everything round here?’ Like all men in high places, he knew how to delegate the blame.
‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘I’m talking about this.’ He threw the letter down. ‘I’ve a meeting with Adam Roach, you daft sod, and thanks to you, I knew nothing at all about it.’
‘I don’t see how you can blame me.’ Collecting the letter from the floor the clerk read it and replaced it on the desk. ‘Especially when I’m not even allowed to open the mail.’
‘’Course it’s your bloody fault! Keeping tabs on things like that is what you’re paid for.’
‘If he’s not due ’til midday, there’s plenty of time yet,’ came the cheeky reply. ‘I don’t know why you’re panicking.’
‘He’s one of the biggest coal-merchants in the North… he’s built up Ned Selby’s old round into a huge concern, and now he’s looking to expand,’ gabbled the guv’nor. ‘Happen that’s why I’m panicking.’ Growing thoughtful, he rubbed the flat of his hand over the stubble on his chin. Eyeing the other fellow with a grim face, he murmured, ‘The word is, Roach has bought Sutcliffe out. If that’s the case, he’ll be looking for a supplier. Happen he’s coming here to talk terms.’ The prospect brought a smile to his face.
‘We could do with a few big contracts an’ all.’
‘’Course we could. We’ve not yet found a market for all the tons we normally supply to Sutcliffe. You know yourself how that contract has been falling away these past months. Why do you think I’m letting such folk as Rosie Selby come in here with a bloody hand cart, eh? Because we need all the help we can get, that’s why! What’s more, Roach won’t just be coming here, you can bet on that. There are other suppliers beside me, and with a man like that, you can depend on it he means to see every one of ’em.’
‘Then we’d best get this pig-sty cleaned up, eh? First impressio
ns count, or so they say.’
‘Not so much of the we. You can get on and clean the place up while I attend to the more important part. He won’t be looking for a tidy office. He’ll be looking at the quality of what we can offer. And that’s out there… in the yard.’ That said, he grabbed a clipboard and pen, and stormed out. He wasn’t seen again until gone ten-thirty.
In the time between, he calculated the amount of stock on the ground, and assessed the different grades of coal readily available. ‘Anybody’d think it were royalty coming, instead of Adam Roach,’ he declared sullenly, striding across the railway tracks to examine the stock on the other side. He muttered and moaned, and checked his watch every few minutes. At half-past ten he reminded himself, ‘If the bugger’s coming here at midday, that gives me just over an hour to work out my best figures. By! And they’d best be favourable, unless I want him to take his money elsewhere.’ With a greater sense of urgency, he pushed the pen behind his ear and went at a smart pace back to the office which was now clean and tidy as a new pin.
Fearing every minute he might be discovered, the bedraggled creature pressed down into the dark coals; covered in a thick film of dust, he was barely detectable. ‘Seems it’s my lucky day,’ he chuckled wickedly. ‘Rosie and the boy, and now Roach… and all I have to do is be patient.’ Taking the crudely made gun from his trouser belt, he stroked it lovingly as a man might stroke a woman. In prison he had made many friends, all of his own devious kind and all from different walks of life. The man who had made the gun was a blacksmith. The one who had smuggled it out was a trustee, working in the prison library. ‘Nice to have friends in high places,’ he laughed. It was good to laugh out loud, and know that for the moment he could not be heard. Soon though the laughter turned to whimpers of agony. One glance at his leg told him it was beyond redemption. ‘Rotten,’ he observed without regret. ‘Like me.’
Hearing the rumble of trucks, rolling into the yard for their second load of the day, he slunk deeper, lying silent, hoping he would not be exposed to curious eyes. When the trucks went by, he breathed a sigh of relief. Already that morning the loaders had dipped into the bay where he was hiding. Now they were here to load only slack and top quality coal.
* * *
An hour later, when the trucks had left and all was quiet again in the yard, Rosie came through the gate. Danny was helping her to push the empty cart. He was also complaining that he was ‘starving hungry’.
Rosie had heard it all before. ‘You’re always hungry. You had two helpings of porridge and both my sausages for breakfast,’ she reminded him good-naturedly. ‘I’m beginning to think you’ve got hollow legs.’ She was not unaware how hard he had worked that morning, and thanked the Lord for such a plucky little chap. ‘What about that apple Brenda Watson gave me? Will that keep you going for a while? On the way to Whalley Banks, I’ll stop at the bakers on King Street, and you can get us each a meat and potato pie.’ She now realised just how hungry she was too.
‘All right, Mam.’ He held out his hand for the apple, then groaned when Rosie produced a small damp towel from beneath the cart instead. ‘Oh, Mam, you’re always washing me.’ He wrinkled his face while she rubbed it with the corner of the towel.
‘Just because we sell coal don’t mean to say we have to look like chimney-sweeps,’ she scolded. She then wiped her own face and hands, and gave him the apple from her pocket, first taking a bite herself. ‘That should keep you going,’ she said. When he ate it in two great bites, she was afraid he might eat his arm into the bargain. ‘Anybody would think you were starving,’ she laughed. Pushing against the wagon, she started it moving forward. ‘Come on. We’ll pay for the next load and be off. We’ll have to look sharp because we’ve still got four streets to do, and I don’t want us making our way home in the dark.’
‘Mam?’
‘What now?’ Every bone in her body ached and she could hardly put one foot before the other.
‘Are we rich yet?’
Rosie laughed out loud. ‘Not yet, but we’re getting there.’ She jangled the coins in her pocket. ‘We’ve made more money this morning than we normally make in a full day.’
His face lit up. ‘Can we do six streets before we go home?’
Rosie frowned at him. ‘Are you trying to kill your poor mam off?’
Danny was horrified. ‘I don’t care if we’re never rich!’ he declared, and she hugged him until it hurt.
Rosie was halfway between the office and the gate when he saw her. His eyes lit up. ‘At last,’ he whispered. Edging himself out of the bay, he stalked her as far as the railway tracks. Summoning every ounce of strength left in him, he got in front of her to hide behind the tall shuttering. From here they could not be seen from the office. It was a perfect place for an ambush, he thought. He watched through an open knot in the planks, chuckling to himself as Rosie and the boy came nearer. He could hear them talking and laughing, and the hatred in him grew until he was out of his mind.
Rosie stopped to shake the dust from her skirt. ‘It’ll be nice to get a bath,’ she said.
‘When we’re rich we can have a bathroom each, can’t we, Mam?’
Rosie smiled her approval. ‘And gold taps.’
‘And big silky towels with swans on?’
And a deep soft carpet that shows your footprints after you’ve walked on it.’
‘I’d like that, Mam.’
‘Oh, I expect by the time we’re rich, you’ll have a wife and a home of your own. And you can share all these things with her.’
‘I won’t.’
Rosie stopped the cart and looked at him. ‘Oh, and why not?’
‘’Cause when I grow up, I’m going to marry you!’
There was no answer to that. Instead, Rosie started forward again.
She was humorously mulling over what Danny had said when a furtive movement in the bays made her swing round. Like a fiend from Hell he was on her. In his blackened face his eyes were stark white, almost luminous. As the twining coiled round her neck, Rosie’s first thought was for her son. In a strangled cry she told him, ‘RUN, DANNY! FOR GOD’S SAKE, GET HELP. RUN! RUN!’
‘That was a stupid thing to do, my lovely.’ Doug’s voice reached her through the fear. ‘Be careful, this twining can cut through your throat like a wire through cheese.’ But Rosie’s fear was not for herself, because even while he was speaking another, even greater fear rippled through her. Her eyes were on Danny as he ran away, stumbling and crying. Rosie’s prayers went with him. In his haste, Danny fell over again, and Rosie was frozen in horror as Doug tightened his hold on the twining, almost throttling her. He then raised his free arm and took aim, deliberately taking his time as Danny struggled to get himself upright.
In sheer desperation, and without a single thought for her own life, Rosie began violently struggling, desperately trying to knock Doug sideways. But the twining was embedded in her throat, stifling her breath and slowly killing her. Suddenly there was an explosion. Danny was lifted off his feet and hurled forward, lying where he fell, silent and twisted, his small white face turned towards Rosie. In that moment it was as though all the life drained out of her. She felt the heat of her tears as they flowed down her face. She heard Doug’s sinister chuckle, but it held no fear for her. Not now. Not any more. All she wanted was to be with Danny.
The two men in the office ran to the window. ‘That was a gunshot, I’m telling you!’ The clerk pressed his nose to the pane, but he made no move to go outside.
‘Gunshot!’ the guv’nor scoffed. ‘What in blazes would you know about a gunshot?’
‘There!’ The younger man pointed to the small twisted bundle lying halfway across yard. ‘What’s that?’
He came to the window, straining to see. ‘God Almighty! It’s Rosie’s lad.’ Running across the office, he flung open the door and raced down the steps. The clerk, a self-confessed coward, remained in the safety of the office. Watching from the window, he saw the other man run towards the boy. Before
he could reach Danny, another shot rang out, forcing the older man to take cover. ‘Come back, you bloody fool!’ yelled the clerk.
But there was no way back without crossing the gunman’s sights. ‘Call the police… and an ambulance,’ came the reply.
As the clerk grabbed the telephone receiver, Adam’s car turned into the yard. The guv’nor saw him and ran round the back, approaching the car from another direction. ‘Go back!’ he cried, frantically waving his arms. ‘GO BACK!’
‘What the Hell’s the matter with him?’ Ned was the first to see him. But Adam was quick to slam on the brakes.
‘You’d best get out of here,’ the guv’nor told them. ‘There’s a bloody maniac out there. He’s got a gun, and he’s already shot the lad…’ His eyes grew wide with shock as he realised who he was talking to. ‘Ned Selby!’ He had expected Adam Roach, but not Rosie’s father-in-law. There was talk that he’d either gone abroad or died long since.
‘Anybody’d think you’d seen a ghost,’ Ned exclaimed as he and Adam climbed out of the car.
Adam glanced about the yard. ‘What’s going on in there, you say?’ he asked impatiently. ‘Spit it out, man, spit it out.’
He hesitated. Sweat was pouring down his temples as he looked from Adam to Ned and back again. ‘It ain’t your problem. It’ll be taken care of,’ he promised. ‘Police and ambulance are on their way.’ How could he reveal that it was Ned’s own grandson who was lying there shot, probably dead? His nerve failed him. ‘Get back in your car and turn it round. Get out of here, I’m telling you.’
Adam placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. ‘Calm down. We might be able to help. Now then… tell us exactly what happened here?’
It took only a moment for him to spill out the details of how he and his clerk had heard what sounded like a gunshot. They had looked through the window and seen a child lying in the yard.
More Than Riches Page 39
