by Sheila Riley
‘Don’t mind us,’ Evie said, ‘take us as you find us. Isn’t that right, Jack?’ Jack nodded. He had never seen their Evie’s face go so red before.
‘Would you like a cup of tea? We have nothing stronger.’ Not that she would give it to him if she had any alcohol in the house, he looked as if he’d had enough already.
‘Tea’s fine,’ Danny said. ‘No milk, two sugars, please.’
‘You’ll have one and like it! We’re not made of sugar!’ Evie’s eyes widened.
‘One’s plenty,’ Danny answered, chastised. He loved her feistiness, it reminded him of a lioness protecting her young. Moments later, she offered him a cup of tea from the brown muggen pot on the side of the range, waiting to hear what he had to say.
Danny could not blurt out what he knew. Not now. Not in front of the young ones.
‘I was wondering if it is too soon to ask if you fancied going to the pictures one night?’
‘The pictures?’ Evie felt as if someone had hit her with a door! They had found her mother floating in the local canal – almost outside their own house – and he wanted to know if she would go to the pictures! The cheek of him.
‘No thank you,’ she said curtly. She had never been on a date in her life, and now was certainly not the time to be thinking of such things.
‘Someone in the tavern said It Always Rains On Sundays is on at The Commodore.’
Evie could not believe Danny asked her out, especially at a time like this. And who wanted to see a film about the weather anyway!
‘I’ll think about it,’ she said. And for the first time in a long while, Evie had something to smile about.
28
‘Over my dead body!’ declared Ada Harris, the following day, when her son announced that he intended to take Evie to the pictures.
‘I’ll make sure you get a good send-off,’ Danny said over the top of the evening newspaper. Blimey! Anyone would think he’d just told his mother he would join the foreign legion, instead of asking a girl out.
‘Isn’t it bad enough she’s stolen my job?’ Ada’s voice was high-pitched as she cleared the table. ‘Now she’s stealing my son, as well! You must need your head read.’
‘Ma don’t say things like that, it’s not nice.’ Danny’s calm tone was determined. Evie had agreed to go to the pictures with him and he had howled with laughter when she said she wasn’t struck on watching a religious film about the weather. Her face had gone a lovely shade of pink when he explained it was about an escaped convict who hid in his old flame’s corrugated air-raid shelter in the back yard, but she is a married woman now, and….’
Evie had a good long think, and Danny recalled gazing at her. Enjoying the moment. Although, she hadn’t looked too sure when he first asked her out, she seemed glad when her brother Jack said a night out would do her the world of good. Danny was relieved when she agreed to think about it.
Getting up from the chair, Danny looked out of the window at the dark sky, lit by thousands of tiny stars, all signs of snow had disappeared, and everywhere was shiny. He’d show Evie a good time, he thought as his mother came back into the room.
‘I’m not keen on that picture.’ Ada said. ‘It’s pictures like that that give people funny ideas.’
Danny rolled his eyes heavenward, knowing his mam had some funny ideas. But he was flummoxed as to knowing what they were. ‘It’s a good thing I didn’t ask you, isn’t it?’
‘I only said she could have my job until I’m better, as a favour to Connie,’ Ada said, knowing it was Connie who had suggested taking the girl on. ‘What’s in the cat is in the kittens, that’s what I say. That mother of hers was a trollop of the lowest order.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t know about that because she won’t go to the pictures with me.’ Danny decided to keep his mother in the dark with regard to Evie. He would bide his time, wait until Evie was ready to socialise.
‘Susie Blackthorn’s a nice girl, she’ll go with you,’ his mother said.
‘You do me a favour, and I will do favours back.’
Evie, on her way home from queuing for an hour outside the butchers on the top road, heard voices coming from the haulage yard. Not one to pry, she thought she recognised Leo Darnel’s voice, but she couldn’t be sure. If it was him, he was up to no good. She had heard his smarmy tone many a time when he was trying to persuade her mother to hide loot in the cellar.
‘I’ll not be asking for any favours!’ There was no doubting the second voice. Evie recognised her brother’s Celtic lilt. However, she stopped herself from bouldering through the closed wooden gates, knowing if their Jack was up to no good, she wanted to get her facts straight before she tackled him about it.
‘Easy boy. Watch who you’re talking to.’ Evie knew she was right when Leo Darnel’s words took on a steely tone. Peering through a gap in the fence she could see Darnel circling her brother, and it took every ounce of her determination to stay put, and not storm into the yard. Jack had been flashing the cash about, coming over all good-fellow-well-heeled. And now she knew why. He was being lured into the underworld of Leo Darnel. Evie could hear Darnel’s oily tone and it turned her stomach.
‘I look at you, and I see myself. I was once a boy like you. I had nothing.’ He fingered the shining horse brasses hanging on a nail. ‘Look at me now,’ he said slipping his fingers inside his hand-made cashmere overcoat, and Evie’s body tensed. Judging the way Darnel was talking, it didn’t seem likely he knew who Jack was. But why was her brother here, in the haulage yard? The sign over the wooden gates said Skinner and Sons, but was that a cover for Darnel’s lawless activities?
Evie’s heart raced with fright when she saw Darnel put his hand into the inside pocket of his coat. But her fear turned to anger when, instead of the gun, Darnel produced a wad of white five- pound notes, as thick as the length of her thumb.
‘Now I’ve got all this.’ Darnel fanned his face with the money, looking pleased with himself. His demonstration had the desired effect when Jack’s jaw dropped. His eyes wide. ‘I used my head, see,’ Darnel said. ‘Kept my mouth shut and my eyes open.’
‘Good for you,’ Jack said, and Evie was relieved when her brother found his voice. She could tell he was impressed, but his initial astonishment had waned by the shrug of his skinny shoulders.
‘My family came to the dockside when I was a just a boy,’ Darnel continued. ‘Didn’t speak the language. Treated like shit. I was nothing. You hear me? Nothing. Like you.’
That’s your opinion, Evie thought, but she was glad Jack knew better than to cheek the villain.
‘But now it’s different. I am somebody. I have my own place, my own business. I have ten handmade suits in my wardrobe…’
‘Good for you.’ There was no mistaking the sardonic tone in Jack’s voice.
‘But I don’t forget where I came from. The River Mersey flows through my veins… I could use a boy like you.’
‘Not interested,’ Jack sneered. ‘If I need something, I’ll get it for myself. I’m in no hurry.’
‘You want to kiss the dockside goodbye?’ Darnel pushed back the dark fedora, his hand in the pocket of his tailored trousers. ‘I can help you brush the dirt of the streets from your feet.’ Evie saw Jack hesitate before answering. As if he was mulling over Darnel’s offer. Her heart cried out. Don’t listen to him, Jack!
‘Doing what?’ Jack’s glare was unwavering, and Evie felt the tension, so thick she could slice it and serve it with chips.
‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’ Darnel asked, ‘I don’t like to discuss business in the street.’
‘I’m fine out here, Mr…?’ Jack said, but Darnel did not answer. ‘I didn’t catch your name, but I never forget a voice… We’ve met somewhere before.’
‘I doubt it,’ Darnel said. ‘I’ve been away since…’
‘Since?’ Jack was not as green as the fields he left behind in Ireland.
‘Christmas.’ Darnel lit a big fat cigar and flicked the spent match a
cross the yard. ‘Business.’
‘Doing what?’ Jack asked. That voice was unmistakable. And he knew where he had heard it before.
‘This and that.’ Darnel was giving nothing away, he noticed. ‘Can you drive?’
‘I can learn.’ Jack knew he was not mistaken. He recalled that night on the dock when he was collecting kindling for the fire. He knew the voice. But this fella didn’t look like the one with the gun.
‘Come around to my yard. Tomorrow. Two o’clock.’
‘No thanks,’ Jack put his hands in his pocket, and kicked a stone with the side of his foot. ‘I’ll give it a miss if it’s all the same to you.’
Evie’s heart beat so fast she could hardly breathe. Her brother was a good lad. He wouldn’t get mixed up with the likes of Darnel. He had more sense than that.
‘You could earn yourself more money than you’ve ever seen in your life.’
‘I am my own man,’ Jack answered, making Evie’s heart sing. ‘I won’t be working for a man like you. I have no masters.’
‘Fine words,’ Darnel said, ‘but you may rue the day you said that.’
‘No, he won’t,’ Evie said, pushing open the wooden gates and confronting them. Jack spun around. She was proud of the way Jack had handled the situation and he wasn’t stupid enough to join one of Darnel’s dubious get-rich-quick capers. A fleeting spark of gratitude told Evie her brother was glad of the interruption.
‘Evie. It’s good to see you.’ There was a glint of steel in Darnel’s smarmy words, but Evie was passed caring. The thug did not scare her anymore. Not when he intended to drag her brother into his seedy world of greed and violence.
The thought of what Darnel was offering stiffened her backbone. Those days were over. Her brother would play no part in shady dealings. Jack would be somebody. The three of them – herself, Jack and Lucy – would hold their heads high, and gain the respect denied them by their mother’s antics. It had been ten days since they had dragged her body from the canal.
Murdered, the coroner said. She glared at Darnel. Did he have something to do with her mam’s death?
‘You go home, Evie. I’ll catch you up.’ Jack held her determined gaze for a moment and Evie knew he was just as strong-minded as she was. However, she would not let him lose face in front of the spiv. ‘I’ll explain later.’ Jack had something to tell her. He had a mature head on his shoulders. He’d do the right thing. She was sure.
‘Don’t be long,’ she conceded. Understanding Jack’s desire to show Darnel he was no pushover. Before she turned to leave, an old man in baggy, brown corduroy trousers, a leather waistcoat and a battered, moth-eaten felt hat appeared from the green wooden shed that had the word ‘Office’ painted in black on the door. He didn’t look like he was in the mood for a chinwag.
‘What’s going on out here?’
‘Who wants to know?’ Evie eyed the old man who, she presumed, was one of Darnel’s skivvies.
‘I could ask the same of you, young lady,’ the old man said, ‘but I would be much more polite about it.’ As he spoke, she noticed Leo Darnel slope from the stable yard and realised she might have made a mistake.
‘Evie, go home,’ Jack pushed the words through his teeth. ‘You will get me the sack!’
‘The…?’ Evie looked at him, let the information sink into the jumbled thoughts racing through her head. ‘How long have you…? Since when…?’
‘I knew it was useless to think you would wait until I get home to explain.’ Jack took a long deep breath and said, ‘I’ve been helping Mr Skinner with the horses… I worked with horses back in Ireland. He offered me a job, full-time.’
‘But what about your education? You have a few months to go.’
Jack nodded. ‘Books and learning won’t put a meal on the table, Evie. And I can’t watch you struggle anymore.’
‘But we’re doing all right since I started cleaning in the pub,’ Evie pleaded.
‘Look,’ Jack said, ‘we can talk about this later. I’ve still got work to do.’
‘You bet your life we will talk later,’ Evie said, turning on her heel and heading home.
‘I paid the rent, so there’s no need to worry,’ Jack said coming into the kitchen with his hands in the air.’ Evie looked at her brother and didn’t know whether to kiss him or bang his stupid head with the teapot! ‘I want an explanation, Jack, and don’t tell me not to worry – that makes things worse.’ Over the next half hour, he came clean and told her he had no intentions of going back to school when he could earn money to help feed the family.
‘But why didn’t you say something. I’ve worried the guts out of myself, thinking you were in cahoots with Darnel.’ Jack’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
‘That little weasel? The scourge of the dock road? The nightmare of the working man?’
‘Don’t let his stature fool you, Jack – he’s five feet eight inches of pure evil.’ Evie didn’t take her eyes off her brother, her persevering glare driving home the intensity of her warning. ‘But enough about him for now. Why you didn’t tell me you had a job, I’ll never know.’
‘I thought you’d make me pack it in,’ Jack said. ‘I know how stubborn and independent you are. You would have struggled on regardless. Do you think those last few weeks in school would have made me the brains of Britain? They wouldn’t.’
‘But what about your future?’ Evie asked. ‘I don’t want you sacrificing that to keep this family afloat.’
‘I love working with the horses,’ Jack said, ‘it’s one of the best jobs in the world. And you’re only cleaning the pub until Mrs Harris’ leg is better.’
Evie knew he was right. Yesterday, Ada Harris had come into the tavern. Although she was still hobbling on a stick, Mim’s best friend did not hesitate to let it be known she would be back in her rightful place in next to no time. Evie knew it would force her to give up the work she and her family depended on so much.
‘I wanted to take the worry from your eyes, so I did,’ Jack said. Evie wondered how different their lives must have been out in the Irish countryside. He had often told her about the farm, saying that coming back to Liverpool was like walking smack-bang into a wall of noise and smoke and people – hundreds of people! It must have come as a shock, she thought, knowing for the past seven years they had become accustomed to clean air, green grass, and all the vegetables they could eat.
‘I missed the routine of the stables when I came back here,’ Jack said, breaking into her thoughts. ‘But now, I intend to look forward not back. And all because the auld fella, Skinner, had the good sense to hire a first-class worker like me.’ He flipped his thumbs into an imaginary waistcoat, wiggled his fingers in the style of Oliver Hardy and winked at Lucy who giggled.
Evie laughed. ‘I don’t know where you get your modesty from. I really don’t. Does old man Skinner go out to the countryside much?’ Evie asked, her eyes narrowing. Something occurred to her. If the old man didn’t pay Jack for the bits of work he did before he took him on full-time, then how did he pay him? Jack wasn’t the lad who would pull his tripe out for no reward. Jack nodded, and the knowing smile that crept over his face told its own story.
‘He was the one who left the food parcels?’ Evie said when the penny dropped.
‘For sure, he delivers animal feed out Thornton way. And, seeing as he can’t eat all the farmer’s donations... Stuff that had gone over, or bruised, like…’
‘Those vegetables looked perfect,’ Evie cut in, before realising the true nature of the donations. The black market thrived not only in the towns and cities, she thought, but the countryside, too.
‘He was glad to give it all to a deserving cause, he said,’ Jack continued as if he hadn’t heard her.
‘Well, thank the Lord for Old Man Skinner,’ Evie sighed. ‘Those food parcels kept us from starvation many a time.’ They had been left a couple of times a week of late.
‘To be true – they did,’ Jack nodded. However, he could not ignore that worm of gui
lt wriggling away inside him. Old Man Skinner also gave him the odd tanner here and there, and he – not being of the saintly variety – spent every penny on himself. He’d earned it. So why not? Sure, wasn’t a man deserving of a treat after a hard day’s work? But now he wished he had spent none of it. Evie was doing her best to keep this family together and there he was, spending money that could have taken the worry from her eyes.
‘Oh, Jack! Come here…’ Evie stood on her tip-toes and gave him a lung-emptying hug. ‘You do not know how pleased I am!’
‘Behave yourself, woman!’ Jack gave an exaggerated gasp to hide the creeping guilt growing heavy as a hundredweight of spuds, curling his shoulders. In that moment he promised himself that he would not be so grasping in future. His family needed him to be honest, and from now on, Jack decided, that’s what he intended to be – God willing. ‘So, when you’ve finished squeezing the living daylights out of me, I’d like to come up for some air.’
‘What’s happened?’ Lucy asked. Her brother and sister were grinning like a pair of Cheshire cats and, for the first time since they had found her mother, everything seemed right with the world.
After tea there was a knock at the door and when Jack went to answer it, they surprised him to see Angus standing on the step. ‘Hello, Angus, what brings you here? Come in.’
‘I hope I’m not disturbing you; I’ve brought this back for Lucy.’ When they got into the kitchen Angus unwrapped the frame he had promised Lucy. ‘It will look nice hanging on the wall.’
‘It’ll be the first time anything has hung on the wall since Da was killed at sea,’ Evie said, knowing her mother had never been partial to pictures or photographs cluttering up the place. But the gesture thrilled Lucy, now her drawing would take pride of place over the mantelpiece.
‘That’s a fine-looking frame, sir…’ Lucy’s clear Irish brogue was filled with wonder as she examined the whittled wood admiring Angus’ handiwork, which even had real glass to protect her drawing from the smoke belching from the grate when the wind was high. They were so entranced by Angus’ gift that nobody noticed Jack’s deep-set, worried frown.
