MB09 - You Stole My Heart Away
Page 20
With her eyes narrowed, her head moving from side to side, and the hoisting of her bosom, Molly had all of Nellie’s mannerisms off to perfection, causing howls of laughter from her husband and daughter. And then she went on about being a hero and being carried through the streets shoulder high. Then came the part about the two mates being joined at the hips, and Nellie’s ‘I haven’t laughed so much since me knicker elastic snapped when I was bending down in the butcher’s’.
Molly stopped for a while and dropped the pose, for, like Jack and Ruthie, she had tears of laughter rolling down her cheeks. ‘I’m going to have to stop, I feel sick with laughing.’
‘Oh, don’t stop now, Mam,’ Ruthie pleaded. ‘It’s dead funny.’
‘Well, just give me a minute to compose meself. There’s not much more, anyway. Ye’re getting a very shortened version of events.’
After taking a deep breath, Molly once again struck up the pose and began with her mate’s reaction to the word forelock. How she wouldn’t be pulling her hair for no one, and she’d never heard of it when she was young. ‘Well, yer wouldn’t, would yer, sunshine,’ Molly said as herself. ‘It was hundreds of years ago.’
Then Nellie’s high squeak. ‘“Hundreds of years ago? Ten minutes ago we were going to Hanley’s for a small loaf, and now ye’re talking about hundreds of years ago! I’m the only bleeding sensible person in this room, and it’s a good job I’ve got me wits about me or they’d have me as daft as themselves.”’
The loud rat-tat on the doorknocker brought silence for a mere two seconds before Molly reverted back to herself. ‘Oh, my God, who can this be? Ruthie, take the tablecloth out and shake it in the yard, while I put the chenille cloth on. Jack, you open the door.’
Jack got to his feet. ‘Molly, what’s all the panic for?’
‘Because it’s been that sort of day, that’s why. Open the door, and if it’s Nellie, tell her I packed me bag and have left home. Tell her I’ve emigrated to Australia and will drop her a line when I’m settled.’
Chapter Ten
Molly was running a comb through her hair when she heard Jack say, ‘Come in, Ellen, this is a surprise.’ Then she heard his chuckle. ‘My wife can relax now. She heard the knock and started running around clearing up. I can never understand why women are so fussy. We men don’t even notice whether there’s dust on the sideboard or crumbs on the floor.’
‘Will yer stop talking, and let the woman in,’ Molly called. ‘And be careful yer don’t trip over the mat, because I’ve brushed all the dirt under it, out of the way.’
Ellen came in smiling. ‘Men haven’t got a clue, have they, Molly? If they stayed at home while the women went to work, the dirt would be meeting us at the front door.’
‘Sit down, Ellen.’ Molly pulled out a chair. ‘We don’t charge.’
‘I won’t sit down, because if I get too comfortable I’ll be here for ages. All I’ve come for, Molly, is to ask how Mrs Reagan is. Me and Tony knew nothing about her accident until late this afternoon, when the customers were talking about it. I believe she nearly got run over by a bus, and if I’m to believe everything I’ve been told, it was Nellie who saved her.’
Molly nodded. ‘It’s true, sunshine. It all happened so fast it was like watching a movie, and I didn’t take it all in. I remember me and Nellie were on our way to Hanley’s, talking fifteen to the dozen as usual, when Nellie said something about Mrs Reagan, and then she took off like a bat out of hell. Then I saw the bus coming, the old lady stepping off the pavement, and for a few seconds I just froze. The next thing I saw was Nellie pulling Mrs Reagan backward just as the bus came level with them, and I can still hear the screech of brakes. It wasn’t the driver’s fault; I felt really sorry for him. He didn’t stand a chance, with Mrs Reagan stepping off the pavement without looking. But it was Nellie’s quick thinking that saved the day. She saved Mrs Reagan’s life, and she saved the bus driver from having nightmares for the rest of his life.’
‘It must have been a terrible shock to Mrs Reagan,’ Ellen said. ‘She’s a very gentle person, wouldn’t say boo to a goose. Is she going to be all right, or did she have to go to the hospital at all?’
‘No, me and Nellie got her home. God knows how we did, but we managed. The bus driver mentioned her going to hospital, but the poor soul looked so frightened it would have done her more harm than good.’
Ruthie came through from the kitchen, where she’d washed the dishes and put them away. She’d got herself ready to go out. ‘Hello, Auntie Ellen. Hearing about all the excitement?’
‘It’s the kind of excitement we could do without, love,’ Ellen said. ‘I’m glad I wasn’t there, I’d have been a nervous wreck, neither use nor ornament.’
‘You get over to Bella’s, sunshine, she’ll be wondering what’s keeping yer. And don’t make a drama out of what happened to Mrs Reagan, there’s a good girl. If Mary mentions it, just give her the bare facts.’
Ruthie gave her a kiss. ‘Okay, Mam, just the bare facts.’ She dropped a kiss on to Jack’s forehead, then made for the door. ‘See yer later. Ta-ra, Auntie Ellen.’
Molly waited until she heard the front door close, then said, ‘I didn’t want to say anything in front of Ruthie, but there’s something I haven’t mentioned to Rita, her neighbour Hilda, or you, Jack. It might be my bad mind, but better to be sure than sorry. So stay until I get it off me chest, Ellen, and you and Jack can tell me if I’m making a mountain out of a molehill, or whether yer think I’m right to be concerned.’
Molly explained about the man in the trilby’s offering to take Mrs Reagan home, and how they’d thanked him, but said they could manage to get her there. ‘I’d forgotten about him by the time we’d managed to get to her street, ’cos it took us ages. And it was pure chance I happened to see the bloke again. The three of us had just turned the corner of the street, and I asked Nellie to stop because me hand had gone numb. And out of the corner of me eye, I saw a movement, and I peeped round the corner to see this bloke flatten himself against the wall so we wouldn’t see him. He’d been following us, I know he had. It was half an hour after the people who had gathered around when Mrs Reagan was on the ground had gone about their business. I believe he was following us to find out where the old lady lived. It was no coincidence, because he was definitely hiding from us.’
‘I’d trust your intuition, Molly,’ Ellen said. ‘I’ve never known yer to be wrong yet.’
‘I thought you’d fixed it for Mrs Reagan to sleep in her neighbour’s house for the night,’ Jack said. ‘She’ll be safe enough there.’
‘If he is a burglar, he won’t worry whether she’s in or out. She’s too frail to stop anyone stealing from her. If he does break in, think what that would do to her. Walking into the house she keeps like a little palace, to find some of her possessions have been stolen. That a thief has been touching her things and going through her drawers. It’s enough to finish her off after the shock she’s had today.’
Ellen was nodding in agreement. ‘Does she have many things of any value? Would there be anything worth stealing?’ Then she chastised herself. ‘What am I talking about! Everything in that house is valuable to her. Everything is precious.’
‘You’ve got me thinking now, love,’ Jack said. ‘I’d go round meself, but what could I do? I mean, I could do plenty if I caught anyone breaking in, but I might stand there all night and nothing happen.’
‘I didn’t tell Hilda about the bloke, because she’s as old as Rita, and she’d worry herself sick. So they don’t know anything.’
Ellen scraped her chair back. ‘I’ll go and get Corker, and see what he thinks. He’s only reading the paper, I’ll be back with him in five minutes. An extra head won’t go amiss.’
True to her word, Ellen was back within minutes, with Corker in tow. The giant of a man, as always, had a smile on his face and in his blue eyes. ‘You and Nellie don’t lead a dull life, do yer, me darlin’? It seems ye’re always there when help is needed.’
‘It’s a good team you are, me darlin’. Mates like you two don’t come along very often. I know briefly what happened, and Ellen just had time to tell me that you arranged for Mrs Reagan to sleep with a neighbour tonight, in case the old dear suffers from a delayed reaction. But apparently there’s something else on yer mind, and ye’re concerned about it. If it’s anything I can help with, Molly, then yer know yer only have to ask.’
‘I didn’t have time to tell him, Molly,’ Ellen said. ‘I thought it would be best coming from you.’
So once again Molly repeated the tale of the man in a trilby, and why she was concerned. ‘I’m not going to say I might not be imagining things, and there’s probably nothing to it. I’m not going to say the man in the trilby could be an honest and respectable man either, because I’ve got it fixed in me mind that he is not. I didn’t give any thought to him when he offered to take Rita home, because there was a swarm of people around wanting to help. But most of them were women, out doing their shopping; he was the only man. Even then I wouldn’t have given him another thought. But to catch him following us half an hour later, and hiding from us, well, that set the alarm bells ringing. And I’ll lay odds that he’s up to no good. However, I can’t see what we can do about it. I should have kept me worries to meself, instead of passing them on to you.’
‘A woman’s intuition is seldom wrong, me darlin’,’ Corker said, stroking his beard. ‘And from what yer’ve told us, yer have reason to be concerned. In fact, because it’s a woman in her eighties we’re talking about, we should all give it some thought. Because she’s safe in a neighbour’s house tonight shouldn’t make us complacent. Imagine her walking into her house tomorrow and finding it ransacked. She’d lose heart, feel that life wasn’t worth living.’
‘That’s what has been running through me head for the last few hours,’ Molly admitted. ‘I’ve thought of going round there and sitting there meself all night, but I’d have to ask Mrs Reagan for her key and she’d want to know why I wanted it.’
Jack snorted. ‘Yer don’t think for one moment that I’d let yer go and sit round there on yer own! If you go, I go! But there’d be no point in either of us going and sitting in the dark, we’d be bumping into everything. Let’s face it, love, neither of us come up to the standard of Sherlock Holmes.’
Corker’s guffaw filled the room. ‘I can see it in me head, the two of you bumping into each other. Yer’d do more damage than the burglar. I think it would be better if Jack and I take a walk round there and see how the land lies. If the bloke is a burglar, then he’ll try and get in through the back. And he won’t do that until all the pubs are shut and the streets empty. He’ll expect the old lady to be in bed by then, and the house to be in darkness.’
‘There’s not much point in us walking round there now then, is there? If you say he won’t try to break in until the pubs are shut and the streets empty,’ Jack said. ‘That’s if he is a burglar, and we can’t be sure of that.’
‘As yer know, I’ve got a few mates in the police force, and when we were chatting one day they said most burglaries take place between one and three in the morning. That’s the time when most people are in a deep sleep. Now we’re not sure about this man, but presuming he is up to no good, then he would most likely make it earlier than that, with Mrs Reagan being so old she probably goes to bed about nine o’clock. And this bloke will have that in mind. They’re crafty buggers, these robbers, they have everything worked out. It’s how they make their living, and they know all the tricks of the trade.’
Molly let out a sigh. ‘From the sound of it, there’s not much we can do, Corker. I wish I had Mrs Reagan’s key, then me and Nellie could have spent the night there. Not that I’d like the idea, but Nellie would, she’d be over the moon. And it would be God help anyone that did break in, ’cos she’d flatten them with one blow. They’d have more than one black eye, believe me.’
Corker, who had a keen imagination and sense of humour, shook with mirth. ‘Oh, that is something I’d like to see, Molly, it would be a sight for sore eyes. Nellie in action would be like a whirlwind; the man wouldn’t know what had hit him. But it might be better to leave you ladies out of it. I’ll walk round there now, just to familiarize meself with the entry and Mrs Reagan’s door. Then I’ll come home again and spend a few hours with Ellen before going back around midnight. I don’t need much sleep, as my dear wife will tell you, so it won’t interfere with me going to work at my usual time in the morning.’
Jack was quick to offer his services. ‘I’ll come with yer, Corker, to keep yer company. What time shall I call for yer?’
‘A quarter to twelve should be about right, Jack, because some people don’t go to bed before then, and there’ll be lights on in some houses.’ Corker pushed himself off the couch and stretched to his full height of six foot five inches. ‘Have a couple of hours’ kip, Jack, or yer’ll be dead on yer feet in work tomorrow.’
‘I feel terrible now, causing all this trouble,’ Molly said, her hands clasped tight. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything, because I might be completely wrong.’
‘Not to worry, me darlin’,’ Corker told her. ‘It’ll break the monotony if nothing else. And think how bad we’d all feel if we sat on our backsides and did nothing, only to be told tomorrow that the old lady’s house had been ransacked. I’d rather waste a couple of hours than live with that guilt. From what you told us about the man in the trilby still following you half an hour after the incident, I would agree it seems more than mere coincidence. And I’m sure Jack would rather be involved in doing something than sitting at home wondering.’
Jack nodded. ‘I’ll give yer a knock at a quarter to twelve, Corker, but I won’t have a kip, I’ll keep Molly company and listen to the wireless. If it’s a comedy we’ll laugh, if it’s a romance we’ll hold hands, and if it’s a murder mystery we’ll switch off.’
Ellen reached up and pulled on the big man’s beard. ‘And what will my husband be doing until a quarter to twelve? Listening to the wireless, like Jack and Molly?’
‘I believe a little lubrication is called for, my darlin’. A pint or two of the landlord’s best bitter to wet me whistle and waken me brain cells. Yer have to be alert to apprehend a burglar, and two pints should see me in peak condition and ready for any eventuality.’
Molly giggled. ‘Oh, if only Nellie was here! I can see the look on her face when yer came out with words like lubrication, apprehend and eventuality. I’ll write them down when yer’ve gone, and somehow I’ll fit them into a sentence tomorrow. I wish I had a camera to take a photo of the different expressions on her face.’
‘Yer may have more interesting news for her than my choice of words, Molly. Somehow I believe, or have an intuition, that the man in a trilby will show himself tonight.’
‘I don’t know, Corker. I’ll feel a right fool if he doesn’t, and you and Jack losing a night’s sleep because of me.’
‘Not to worry, me darlin’, whichever way it goes.’ He winked at Jack. ‘I’ll bring me hip flask for a little drink, but not too much or we’ll waken the neighbours.’
‘What time is it now, Corker?’ Jack asked in a whisper. ‘I’ll have to buy meself a cheap watch. I’m always having to ask the time, even in work.’
The two men were standing pressed against the wall in the entry, about six doors higher up than Mrs Reagan’s house. It was pitch dark as there were no lamps lit, and there was no light from any window. Corker had an illuminated face on his watch, and he said, ‘It’s twenty pa
st twelve. We’ll give it another hour.’
‘I’m gasping for a smoke,’ Jack said. ‘I’ve no willpower when it comes to smoking. Molly hates me lighting up, says I’m weak. And I know she’s got a point when she reckons that what I spend on fags in a year would pay for new furniture for the living room.’
‘Yes, like Ellen, Molly does have a point. But I’m in a better position than you, in as much as there are six working in our house, against two in yours. Not that the two lads contribute much to the housekeeping, being apprentices, but at least they pay for their keep, and their pocket money.’
Jack suddenly heard a faint sound like a pebble’s being kicked, and he nudged Corker while cocking an ear. Both men pushed themselves back against the entry door, which was inset a brick’s thickness away from the wall. Not enough space to hide in daylight, but enough to be missed in pitch darkness. The footsteps were very faint, signs that whoever it was, the newcomer was wearing plimsolls rather than shoes. Seconds passed without another sound, then the two men heard a voice counting softly, ‘Twenty-two, twenty-four, this must be twenty-six.’ Corker grabbed Jack’s arm and held it tight, a sign to be still, but alert. The next sound was one they recognized as scraping, and panting, as the burglar tried to get a hold on the top of the wall, but his shoes couldn’t get a grip.
Corker could reach the top of the wall without even stretching, and at six foot, so could Jack. So the heavy breathing indicated a small man having difficulty carrying out his plan. While Jack was apprehensive, never having been in a situation like this before, Corker was feeling justified in taking Molly’s fears seriously and saving an old lady from fear and heartache. ‘Get ready, Jack,’ he whispered. ‘We don’t want to lose him.’ Then on second thoughts he added, ‘No, you stay here in case he sees us and makes a run for it. Count to ten, then come after me.’
The would-be burglar, one Fred Griffin, dressed well during daylight to look respectable, and he had spent time getting rid of his thick Liverpool accent. But when he was not fooling the public, his speech was a different kettle of fish. His language was coarse and every other word a profanity. He was married to a woman as common as himself, and they had three children who had been taught from an early age that if they wanted anything they could get it by stealing. Fred Griffin made his living by stealing from those whose houses he broke into, specializing in elderly people who lived alone. He never worked on his home patch, for he was well known to the local police because of his method of operation. The house he lived in was a hovel, but there was one thing he insisted on, and his slovenly wife had learned to her cost: that while her house could be rotten from top to bottom, his suit, shirt, tie and trilby had to be kept in tiptop condition. For, dressed in those, he looked like a respectable businessman, and no one would be suspicious of his innocent-sounding questions. When he strode down the streets, his trilby at just the right angle, his shirt and tie spotless and the crease in his suit trousers ironed to perfection, he thought he was as good as anyone, and better than most. Even several short spells in prison for robbery hadn’t dimmed the enthusiasm he felt for what he called his profession. He was never without money for his fags and beer, and he didn’t have a boss ordering him around. Plus, he didn’t have to get up early every morning; he could please himself what he did and when. He made enough money by stealing from the houses he broke into to satisfy his needs. What he took tonight would be sold in the pub tomorrow, and the money he made would last until he had another target lined up.