by Pam Howes
Baby Billy’s paternal grandparents had also been to visit and were overjoyed with their first grandchild. They’d been horrified when Jennifer related her tale, how her parents had insisted the baby be adopted. ‘Over my dead body,’ Billy’s mother had said. ‘He’s our Billy’s flesh and blood and he’ll be brought up in our family.’ A small funeral service was to be held at Audrey’s local church for baby Michael James and he would be buried in a family grave alongside his family. Jennifer was so grateful that her tiny son wouldn’t be shoved into a paupers’ grave and at least this way there would be a place to visit on his birthday and take flowers. George and Audrey had a small bakery with a café attached and had offered Jennifer a part-time job as soon as she felt up to it. Between herself and Audrey they would look after Billy.
‘I am ready and waiting,’ Jennifer said. ‘I can’t thank you enough for all your help. Billy and I now have a future and a safe home that I could never have dreamed of a few months ago. And do you know what, Nurse Romano, considering my parents haven’t even phoned here once to ask if I’m okay after my aunty let them know I’d been admitted, I don’t feel I owe them anything. I know they think I’m supposed to be in here for two weeks, so they’re not going to come looking for me for at least another four more days and I know none of the staff will call them. That’s it now. I’m done with them. I will write to them eventually, but I won’t be giving them an address and when I tell them Billy’s parents are delighted with their grandson, I think they’ll be too shamefaced to go calling on them for information. Billy’s mam will soon see them off anyway. She’s feisty and very angry with them after the way they’ve treated me.’
Cathy nodded. ‘I’m not surprised. I’d feel the same if he were my grandson. I’m so glad it’s all worked out for you.’ She handed Jennifer a slip of paper. ‘I’ve written my address down,’ she whispered. ‘Will you let me know that you’re okay from time to time? We’re not supposed to do this, but no one needs to know. I’ve got to go on duty now, so I wish you all the luck in the world. Don’t forget to have Billy checked and weighed at the local clinic regularly and make sure you register with the doctor as soon as you can because you will need your post-natal check-up at six weeks. It’s important for your health that you get it done. Take care of yourself and little Billy, Jenny; it’s been lovely looking after you both.’ Cathy gave her a hug, planted a kiss on the sleeping baby’s brow and hurried from the room before she burst into tears. If she, Jean, Karen and Ellie could make a difference like this to just one young mum and her child’s life, what a fulfilling job it would be to run their new maternity home. She really couldn’t wait to take her final exams in just a few short months and then she would be ready to join them in their venture.
Jack swung the door open, stuck his head outside and took a quick look around. He was used to the allotment holders’ routines, and knew they’d all be going home for the night about now. Voices faded as the old men called out their goodbyes to each other. He was bursting for a piss but didn’t want to do another in the abandoned shed he was dossing in. It stank to high heaven as it was. But at least he’d got a roof over his head, and his bed of straw-filled sacks served him well. He nipped around the back and relieved himself. There was an old pub not far from the allotments and he’d been slipping in the bogs daily for a shit and a bit of a wash. Fortunately, the gents was out the back and he’d managed to find a way in from the small car park without having to go through the pub itself. The wooden hatch to the beer cellars was also around the back and Jack had noticed the doors were a bit worse for wear. Should be easy enough to break into and nick a few bottles of something if the opportunity ever arose.
His stomach rumbled and he hoped the little chippy down the lane was open tonight. He’d found a battered straw trilby in the shed, an old pair of gardening trousers that he tied up with the twine that was already threaded through the belt loops, and a much-patched jacket that was far too big, but covered his prison clothes well enough. He’d still not managed to find a decent outfit yet for fear of being spotted lurking in gardens. There always seemed to be an old biddy or two around. He scratched his head and the beard that had started to grow. It was itchy and he wouldn’t be surprised if he’d got fleas. He’d chased away a manky old moggy that had been sleeping on the sacks. He felt dirty and knew he stank to high heaven and looked like a tramp. He could do with a visit to the swimming baths for a clean-up, but until his hair and beard grew a bit more he was stuck with lying low. A few more days of sleeping rough and he’d be on his way to a new life. Hoping it was the usual blind-as-a-bat woman in the chippy; he lit a fag and set off to buy his tea.
Later that week, Jack read the headlines again. He and Andy were last week’s front-page news. The greasy paper had been wrapped around his chips from last night’s tea. The mugshot, taken years ago, didn’t look much like him now. Short hair, chubbier cheeks and a full set of teeth. He’d lost weight in Walton, along with a bottom front tooth that some pillock had knocked out one night during an altercation, and now, with his longer hair and newly grown facial hair, he doubted anyone would recognise him from that photo. He needed to think up a name change and adopt an accent along with a new identity. He was good at mimicking, had got Andy’s Glaswegian accent off to a T. And although the police were looking for a Scottish bloke, that’s where the similarity ended. Andy was twice his size. No one was going to notice a little fellow with a twang that looked like he did. Today he planned to find some half-decent clothes and take a swim at the local baths. Changing rooms were a good source of jackets and shoes, as well as the contents of pockets. He smoked his last half-fag and set off for his usual morning ritual before the allotment holders turned up.
Alice dashed back into the house after taking Rodney to school. She’d got a day off today and planned to do a bit of shopping after a big clean-up. Cathy was also off and had taken Lucy to her minder and then was taking Granny Lomax for a chest X-ray, as advised by the doctor. The last few days had been hectic as Johnny and Jimmy finalised the purchase of the house on Woodlands Road. They’d pored over figures each night, working out how best to buy it. Both of their homes had been used to secure the mortgage on the property. Johnny had told her that if the girls couldn’t go ahead with their plans to open the maternity home then he and Jimmy would turn the place into four self-contained flats. Meanwhile they would start to do repairs to the roof and take out the bathroom and kitchen fittings. Either way, they could make a start. Jimmy had assured her and Millie that they’d more than get their money back over the next few months, no matter what happened with the house. Alice hoped he was right.
She took off her jacket and hung it on the hall stand. In the back room, she gathered up a pile of newspapers from the floor by the side of Johnny’s chair, mainly the Echo. With being so busy recently he’d had no time to read them all, so she put them on the table to sort through and made two piles, roughly folded and read ones for the fire and the neatly folded unread ones for later. The final paper she picked up caught her eye and as her legs buckled she sat down heavily on a dining chair. Two male mugshots dominated the headlines, along with the words
ESCAPED PRISONERS ON THE RUN.
As she read the report her stomach churned. Jack Dawson and another man were wanted for the murder of a prison officer who’d been shot dead while driving a van taking the pair to Armley Gaol in Leeds. The report said that there had been no sightings of them in Leeds or the surrounding areas but that they were believed to have made their way to Glasgow with two more men who were also on the run from a previous crime. It also stated that Dawson had family and contacts in Liverpool. Alice checked the date on the paper. It was from over a week ago. She didn’t recall seeing anything on the news and if Jack was making his way here, he certainly hadn’t been in touch with anyone she knew. And she was certain that if he’d tried to contact any friends from the Legion, where he’d worked, they would have let her know.
That poor man who’d been shot was fro
m Liverpool – she was surprised that none of their neighbours or people in the shops had mentioned it to her. But then again, they’d all been so busy with work, the new house plans and Granny Lomax being ill that Alice hadn’t really had time to stop and gossip with anyone. Maybe people had seen it and felt it best to keep out of her business now that she was married to Johnny.
Surely Jack wouldn’t show his face around here? He wasn’t that daft. She hoped he’d be caught soon, and in Scotland, as far away as possible. He was hateful but she would never have had him down as a murderer in a million years. She shuddered and dashed to lock and bolt the front door and then did the same with the back. In the front room she peered through the net curtains out onto the deserted street and then pulled the red velvet curtains across.
A sudden thought struck her. What if he still had a key that he’d kept hold of and had let himself in like he did when he attacked Cathy a few years ago, and was hiding upstairs? Then she shook herself. Johnny had fitted new doors back and front last year and new locks too. Now she was just being silly, scaring herself like that. She forced herself to go into the kitchen and put the kettle on. On the windowsill was a hammer that Johnny had used last night to knock a couple of picture hooks into the sitting room wall. He must have forgotten to put it back in his tool bag.
She needed the toilet but wasn’t going to go to the outside one. She picked the hammer up, just in case, and crept upstairs to the bathroom. She opened the door and peered inside. Empty. She breathed a sigh of relief and dashed into the room, holding her breath as she locked the door and put the hammer down on the floor. The house was silent. ‘You daft beggar, Alice, get a flipping grip,’ she muttered as she washed her hands. But she still picked up the hammer as she crept into each bedroom and looked in the wardrobes and under the beds. ‘Right, he’s not here so get yourself downstairs and make a brew.’ Cathy would be home soon and she may well bring Granny back with her.
As she was pouring the boiling water into the teapot she heard a rattling at the front door and nearly dropped the kettle. The door handle turned and then the bell rang. The letter box clattered and Cathy shouted through it, ‘Mam, are you there?’
Alice dashed to take the bolts off and swung the door open, as bright a smile as she could muster fixed on her face.
‘What’s wrong with the door?’ Cathy asked, leading a very fragile-looking Granny Lomax inside. ‘Did you have the bolts on?’
‘Er, I must have done,’ Alice said, shaking her head at Cathy, indicating she didn’t want to say any more.
Cathy nodded, looking puzzled. ‘Come on, Granny, let’s get you sitting down and I’ll make you a nice cuppa.’
‘There’s tea in the pot,’ Alice said. ‘I’ve just this minute made it. And I’ve got some nice scones from the bakery, so sit yourselves down and I’ll go and do the honours. Sit in the front room, it’s less chaotic than the back. There’s no toys to trip over in there.’ As Cathy opened the door and exclaimed that the curtains were closed, Alice realised her mistake. Damn.
‘Oh dear, I dashed out without opening them this morning,’ she fibbed. ‘Such a rush getting the kids up and out to school, you know how it is. Help Granny to a seat.’ She dashed back to the kitchen.
Cathy appeared in the doorway as Alice, her hand shaking, poured the tea. Cathy took the pot from her, frowning. ‘Mam, what’s going on? I opened those front room curtains before I left the house earlier; you know I did because you asked me to do it when I went in to get something. You look pale and mithered and you’re acting all weird.’
Alice took a deep breath. She went into the back sitting room and picked up the newspaper from the table. She showed Cathy the headlines, holding a finger to her lips and inclining her head towards the front room. ‘No point in putting the wind up Granny. Hopefully he’s miles away by now, but with him having robbed her once I’d hate her to be terrified by this news.’
Cathy’s mouth dropped open and her hand shook as she read the headlines. ‘Oh my God! So they think he’s in Scotland?’
Alice nodded. ‘Wouldn’t you think the police would have come here to warn us though? Not a flipping word from them. We hardly had the telly on this last week, well not the news anyway. I only found this paper because I was tidying up. It was in the pile waiting to be read next to Johnny’s chair.’
Cathy shook her head. ‘Murder though. Oh my God. I can’t believe that of Jack. Nasty piece though he is, I would never have thought him capable of murdering anyone.’
‘Hmm,’ Alice said, nodding slowly. ‘Granny always blamed him for your dad’s death in that accident. Maybe he did fiddle with the brakes on purpose, although the police said it was impossible to say what caused the crash because the bike was in such a bad state afterwards. And Jack would have never admitted it, even if he did do it deliberately. He always acted hurt when she had a go at him.’
‘It does makes you think.’ Cathy picked up a mug of tea and took it through to her granny. ‘Won’t be a minute, Mam’s just buttering you a scone,’ she told her and went back to join her mam. ‘Do her a scone and then she can tell you what the hospital said about her chest. It’s not great news, Mam, there’s a shadow on her lung, but I’ll let her tell you. Then I’ll take her home and make sure she’s safe.’
‘All right love, I’m sorry to hear that.’ Alice handed the buttered scone to Cathy on a small plate.
Cathy sighed. ‘Thanks Mam, we can talk when I come home. I’m sure Jack will be well away by now, but I’m going to ring the police as soon as I get back here. I want some reassurance that they definitely know he’s not in this area.’
‘Did she settle all right?’ Alice asked as Cathy came back into the house after taking Granny Lomax home.
‘She did. And I checked to see that she had something in for her tea, and we called at the bakery for a loaf, so that should do her for today. I’ll pop in tonight for an hour and keep her company, then I can make sure she locks up after me, now that we know about Jack. I’ll be glad when we get a date for her to go into hospital. I really don’t think it’ll be too long before they find her a bed. I’d rather she was safe in there than on her own if Jack’s on the prowl. I’m really worried that it’s something serious. She’s just not picking up at all, no matter what remedies she’s taken.’
Alice nodded. ‘She’s not been right for a good while now. It’s such a worry for you, love.’
‘I know I should probably stay at the bungalow with her,’ Cathy continued. ‘But I’m worried about Lucy catching something, and me, for that matter. I’m handling newborn babies and I can’t afford to pass on any nasty germs to them or their mothers.’ She reached into the sideboard cupboard for the telephone directory. She looked up the number for the local police station and went into the hall to the telephone to make the call.
Alice hovered in the background wringing her hands as Cathy raised her voice, demanding answers to her not unreasonable questions. She heard her say goodbye and slam down the phone.
‘They’re about as much use a chocolate fireguard,’ Cathy said angrily, coming back in and plonking herself down on a dining chair. ‘Apparently they sent two officers round here a few days after Jack’s escape to see if he’d been in contact, but there was no one home. I told the policeman I just spoke to that we are all at work during the day and couldn’t they have tried again or at least phoned us so we could be on our guard. They didn’t have our number, he said, but they do now, so no excuses.’
Cathy narrowed her eyes, looking furious. ‘And apparently they are short of officers so that’s why we didn’t get a second visit. Bet if we’d robbed a bank or something, they’d be here in force. Anyway, he tried to reassure me that they are certain Jack is not in Liverpool as he was seen in the car with the other man and his accomplices. They are all from the Glasgow area so the police believe he will have teamed up with them. They’re a notorious gang of robbers apparently, so no doubt they’ll welcome him in with open arms,’ Cathy finished.
Alice swallowed hard. ‘Even so, we must be careful and not take any chances. Make sure you’re not on your own if you walk home in the dark and always lock the doors both front and back if you’re in by yourself. Better to be safe than sorry. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.’
‘I know, Mam, and neither do I. Shall I tell Ellie or leave it? She obviously hasn’t seen the paper or news or she would have said something by now.’
Alice blew out her cheeks. ‘It was not being warned about the prowler in the hospital grounds that got Ellie raped by Jack. I would tell her so that she can be on her guard. Not that I think for one minute he would show his face back at the hospital at all; lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place, but even so, she needs to know he’s escaped from prison and he’s on the run. We don’t know what’s going through his deranged mind. Revenge for getting him sent down. Anything could tip him over the edge. We all need to be alert. I must tell Sandra and Rosie too. Just in case he’s in Liverpool and hangs around their school looking for them. Roddy’s a bit too young to understand and I don’t want to frighten him.’
Cathy raised an eyebrow. ‘Is it likely that he’d try and see the kids? He never bothered with them before. I doubt he’d want to see them now. But I suppose you should tell them, especially Sandra and Rosie as they will recognise him. But don’t scare them, Mam.’
Ten
July 1963
Walking down the road, Jack rooted in his jacket pocket and pulled out the piece of paper a young woman had thrust into his hand a few days ago. She’d given him a knowing smile before tossing her long hair over her shoulders and sashaying over to a lad standing under the trees. Jack glanced at it again. It was a flyer for a fair. He was about to screw it up and chuck it over his shoulder when the name caught his eye: Romano’s Fair. Wasn’t Romano the name of the half-Italian biker lad Cathy had been seeing? He knew from Alice’s late friend Sadie that she’d left his father because she didn’t like the fairground lifestyle and the bike show he was involved with.
