by Rosie Harris
‘They said they’d let me know if they get another second-hand one, but that might not be for ages.’
‘We could look in the Liverpool Echo. They advertise second-hand cars in there from time to time,’ Peg reminded them.
‘Yes, but it wouldn’t be one of these Auto carriers, and unless it can be adapted so that Winnie can drive it then it’s not a lot of good to us, is it.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Winnie could go on using her chair until you could get it converted,’ Peg suggested. ‘In the meantime you’d be able to drive it and fetch and carry. You can still bring us both to work when the weather is bad.’
Chapter Thirty-two
THEIR SALES OF ice-cream were phenomenal. June and the beginning of July were exceptionally hot and this helped. Even when they were followed by a couple of weeks of solid rain the sales of ice-cream barely diminished.
‘What’s so good about it,’ Peg pointed out, ‘is that it doesn’t need any more tables, and it’s hardly any extra work since whoever is on the counter can serve ice-cream.’
‘No washing up to do afterwards either,’ Winnie agreed. ‘You know,’ she added thoughtfully, ‘if we could get some sort of small freezer that would fit on top of my wheelchair we could increase sales even more. I could wheel myself along the landing stage and be right on the spot when people come off the boat. And I could also serve people who are standing there waiting for a boat.’
‘Why make extra work for yourself? There’s nothing to stop them popping in here to buy their ice-cream, is there?’ Sandy argued.
‘Well, there is really. A lot of people are afraid they’ll miss their boat if they come along here and then find that there’s a lot of people in front of them waiting to be served.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Common sense, isn’t it.’
‘You’ve made it up so that you can prove your point,’ he laughed. ‘You might be right, though.’
‘So you’ll see if we can get a refrigerated box to fit on my wheelchair?’
‘Oh I don’t know about that, leastwise not yet,’ Sandy prevaricated.
‘Why not?’ Winnie frowned.
Sandy raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘Our next priority is to buy an Auto carrier, or have you forgotten?’
‘Of course she hasn’t, nor have I,’ Peg butted in. ‘I look in the Liverpool Echo every night. I’ll find a second-hand one for you in the end,’ she assured them confidently.
‘I doubt if you will, Peg. It’s not like buying a chair or a bed or something like that.’
Peg waited until she was on her own with Sandy. ‘You haven’t given up completely on the idea of eventually buying a van of some kind, have you?’ she asked in a whisper.
He shrugged. ‘At the moment there are other things that are far more important.’
Peg gave him a sharp look. ‘Then why have you been taking driving lessons?’
‘How on earth do you know about that?’ he asked in astonishment. ‘Does Winnie know?’
‘Not unless you’ve told her.’
‘No, I haven’t said a word. I wanted to be prepared in case something suitable turns up.’
‘So how are you getting on?’
‘Great! I got one of the chaps that I used to know when I worked at Paddy’s Market to let me have a go in his van. I suppose you know all about that as well,’ he grinned.
She nodded. ‘I hear you took to it like a duck to water. He said you’re a natural.’
A couple of weeks later Peg did find a van. It wasn’t an Auto carrier, which was what Sandy had said he wanted, but in Peg’s opinion it was just the sort of thing they needed.
‘Was it in the Echo?’ Sandy said in surprise. ‘I must have missed it!’
‘No, I heard about it from a chap from Paddy’s Market.’
‘You mean you’ve been putting feelers out on the sly,’ he grinned.
‘Something like that!’
‘You’re a caution!’ he said admiringly.
‘Perhaps you’d better go and take a look at it before you say anything else,’ Peg suggested.
‘You mean it’s not quite what we wanted?’
She shrugged. ‘You said we needed one that could be converted to hand controls, but I’m not sure that this one can be.’
‘In that case then perhaps I’d better hang on a bit longer and keep looking,’ he said worriedly.
‘Go and see what it’s like,’ Peg insisted. ‘There’s no harm in doing that, is there?’
‘No, I suppose not. Where is it?’
‘Tatlock Street off Limekiln Lane,’ Peg told him. ‘I’d get over there right away if I were you, before it’s sold.’
‘Is there a price mentioned?’
‘Yes, seventy-five pounds, and I’ve got the money here all ready, so no excuses, Sandy. You get going!’
‘I ought to talk to Winnie first. Make sure she agrees with what we’re doing.’
‘You cut along, I’ll tell her what’s happening.’
He was gone for such a long time that Winnie started to become anxious. ‘Perhaps he’s having trouble finding the place,’ she said tentatively.
‘Not him, he knows his way round that part of Liverpool like the back of his hand,’ Peg said confidently.
‘Then why is he taking so long?’
‘They’re probably taking him for a ride in it. He’s bound to want to find out what it’s like on the road.’
Winnie looked worried. ‘He wouldn’t know if it was going properly or not, he’s never had anything to do with vans.’
‘Of course he has! He used to mix with all the van drivers when they were delivering to Paddy’s Market!’
‘Only helping to unload or load up! I meant that he wouldn’t know whether the engine was running right, or any mechanical stuff like that.’
‘He’s a man, isn’t he? That’s the sort of thing they talk about when they get together.’
It was almost another hour before Sandy returned. Peg and Winnie had already put up the ‘CLOSED’ sign and were about to lock up and make their way home when he turned up. His face was wreathed in smiles.
‘No need to ask how you got on,’ Peg smiled. ‘Bought it, have you?’
‘Too right! It’s a bargain. Runs like a dream. Come and see it for yourself.’
‘You’ve driven it here?’
‘You bet! If you are ready for home then I’ll give you a lift,’ he said proudly. ‘I’ll take you home first, Peg, and then I’ll come back for Winnie.’
‘Take Peg, but don’t bother about coming back for me. I can get home under my own steam,’ Winnie told him.
‘No! You wait here. It’s late for you to be out on your own. It will only take a few minutes and I’ll be back for you!’
‘What about my wheelchair? I don’t want to leave it here overnight.’
‘You won’t have to! That’s the beauty of having a van,’ he told her jubilantly. ‘Your wheelchair will go in the back!’
‘Come on then, Sandy,’ Peg said decisively. ‘Let’s see how this magic machine works.’
They had barely finished their meal when the double rap sounded on the front door.
They looked at each other in surprise, wondering who on earth it could be. Because all three of them were working long hours down at the café they had very little to do with any of their neighbours, apart from passing the time of day with them.
‘You go and see who it is, Sandy. Strange that anyone should be calling at this time of night,’ Peg said worriedly.
They heard the mumble of men’s voices and the next minute Sandy came back into the room followed by two policemen.
‘Whatever is wrong now?’ Peg asked, the colour draining from her wrinkled cheeks. ‘Has something happened down at the café?’
‘No!’ Sandy shook his head. He looked haggard. ‘It’s much worse than that.’
Winnie frowned. She looked from Sandy to the two uniformed policemen standing in the doorway. ‘What’s the matter?’
>
‘They need me to go with them to answer some questions.’
‘What sort of questions? Why can’t you tell them right here whatever it is they want to know?’
‘Because your husband is under arrest,’ the sergeant told her. His gaze fixed on Winnie. ‘You remember me, I’m sure. We meet often enough,’ he added cynically.
‘Sergeant Baker?’
‘Begging when you were a child, suspected of breaking into a bonded warehouse, and now this time it’s smuggling and drugs.’
Winnie’s heart gave a sickening lurch. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’ she gasped.
‘Are you telling me you knew nothing about it? Perhaps we should take a look at your wheelchair to make sure that it’s not been used again this time.’
‘Again?’ she snapped. ‘We weren’t the ones who used it before, if you remember correctly.’
‘It might be more correct to say that we had no direct evidence to prove exactly who had used your wheelchair,’ he told her sternly.
She shook her head vigorously. ‘You caught the culprits and you know that Sandy wasn’t involved, and he hasn’t been involved in any smuggling either,’ she defended stubbornly.
‘We’ll decide on that after we’ve asked him some questions about what he’s been doing hanging around Paddy’s Market over the past few weeks,’ Sergeant Baker said curtly.
‘Don’t wait up for me, luv,’ Sandy said quietly as he kissed Winnie goodbye.
‘No, don’t wait up, Mrs Coulson,’ Sergeant Baker repeated. ‘I doubt if your husband will be coming home for quite some time.’
‘What do you mean? We have a business to run, we need him there first thing tomorrow morning,’ Peg intervened.
‘Then I think you should be prepared to manage without him. Not only tomorrow, but possibly the day after as well,’ Sergeant Baker told them cryptically.
After the police had taken Sandy away, Winnie and Peg looked at each other in dismay.
‘What on earth are they talking about, saying that Sandy is involved in drugs and smuggling?’
‘I don’t know, and there’s no way we can find out tonight.’
Winnie couldn’t sleep. It was like a repeat of the nightmare of the bonded warehouse break-in. She wondered if it was a trumped-up case because Sergeant Baker hadn’t been able to prove any involvement that time.
‘No, luv, the scuffers wouldn’t do anything as devious as that,’ Peg assured her when she mentioned it the next morning. ‘This is something different altogether.’
‘It’s the same police sergeant,’ Winnie pointed out.
‘Well, he’s probably the one who deals with crime in the Scotland Road area,’ Peg said helplessly.
‘It’s a trumped-up charge, I’m sure of it,’ Winnie insisted. ‘Sandy never goes near Paddy’s Market these days, or sees any of the chaps he used to know when he worked there, does he?’
Peg avoided her eyes.
Winnie was quick to notice this. ‘Do you know something I don’t?’ she pressed.
‘Well, he has been going there quite a lot lately,’ Peg admitted uneasily.
‘What for? We don’t buy from anyone trading there.’
‘He was going to tell you …’ Peg’s voice trailed off and she wished she hadn’t spoken out.
‘You’ve told me half a tale so you may as well tell me the rest,’ Winnie snapped.
‘He was going to tell you himself. A couple of the chaps he knows there have been giving him driving lessons.’
Winnie stared at her, open-mouthed. ‘I don’t believe you! I would have known!’
‘He wanted to surprise you. He only told me recently after a chap from the market told me he had a van going cheap and knew we were looking for one.’
‘So what has all that got to do with the police coming here last night and taking him away for questioning?’ Winnie demanded indignantly.
Peg stood up and began to clear the table. ‘I don’t know, luv. Maybe the chaps he knows from there have been arrested as well.’
‘Sandy’s not been arrested,’ Winnie snapped.
‘Well, taken in for questioning, then,’ Peg said uneasily.
‘So who were these chaps he’s been mixing with at the market?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ Peg said evasively. ‘He simply said that a couple of them were teaching him to drive.’
‘So they’ve got a van and they are probably the ones involved in smuggling drugs. The police have possibly spotted Sandy riding in the van with them, and that’s why they are questioning him,’ Winnie pronounced.
‘It’s probably something like that,’ Peg agreed cautiously.
‘Do you think we should go along to Atholl Road and explain all this to Sergeant Baker?’
‘Sandy is quite capable of speaking up for himself,’ Peg told her. ‘If we go along there they’ll only think we’re trying to establish his innocence because we know that he’s involved. Leave it for now. Time enough for us to speak up, if they decide to keep him in.’
Chapter Thirty-three
THERE WERE SO many reports from different policemen saying Sandy had been seen in the van involved in the drug-smuggling operation, that there was no way Sergeant Baker would release him. Winnie pleaded both with him and several other police officers for Sandy to be given bail, but they all remained adamant.
Peg was beside herself with worry. She sat huddled in her chair, her black shawl pulled tight around her shoulders, rocking backwards and forwards.
‘If I’d never sent him over to Tatlock Street to buy that van then none of this would have happened,’ she kept saying, over and over.
‘That is utter rubbish!’ Winnie told her time and time again. ‘It was all because Sandy got involved with that crowd at Paddy’s Market. They’re the ones to blame. Teaching him to drive, indeed! Making him a scapegoat for what they were up to more likely.’
‘Have they been picked up as well?’ Peg asked.
‘I don’t know, but I suppose Sandy will be able to tell us when he comes home,’ Winnie muttered.
Sandy didn’t come home the next day, or the next. When Winnie went to the police station she wasn’t allowed to see him and her enquiries were evaded. She was told nothing.
‘I’d go to the police and complain about the way this matter is being dealt with if it wasn’t them who’d got him locked up,’ Winnie railed.
When they finally did get some news it was even worse than they had imagined possible. The police had so much incriminating evidence that Sandy had been formally arrested.
‘They say that he’ll have to remain in jail until the trial,’ Winnie told Peg.
‘So when will that be?’ Peg gasped.
‘They couldn’t give me an exact date, but they said it would probably take a couple of months before the case comes to court.’
‘That means it will be almost Christmas before he’s home again.’
‘That’s if he comes home at all,’ Winnie said balefully. ‘If they prove their case against him then it will be a jail sentence, and heaven knows how long he will get!’
‘You’ll have to do something about getting him a solicitor,’ Peg told her. ‘Make sure it’s someone who can make them see what nonsense this all is.’
‘Solicitors cost money!’ Winnie said grimly.
Peg nodded dolefully. ‘I wish I’d never sent him to buy that bloody van; what a waste of money that’s turned out to be.’
‘If we can persuade the police to return it to us, I wonder if we could get the chap who sold it to Sandy to take it back and refund our money?’ Winnie murmured tentatively.
Peg shook her head. ‘I doubt it. A deal’s a deal. Anyway, I’ve got a feeling that the bloke in Tatlock Street who sold him the van was in with the gang from Paddy’s Market and had something to do with this drug business himself.’
‘What do you mean?’ Winnie frowned.
‘I think that the van Sandy bought was the one used in the smuggling!’
; Winnie’s eyes widened. ‘You might be right. It’s funny that the police turned up right after Sandy drove home in it.’
‘Yes, it was as though they were watching out for that van.’
Winnie’s face brightened. ‘If we tell the police that Sandy had only owned the van for a couple of hours when they stopped him then that should clear his name,’ she said jubilantly.
Peg grimaced. ‘I don’t think that they’ll take any notice of what we tell them. I’m beginning to think you’re right and that Sergeant Baker has got it in for you, luv. I think he’s trying to get back at us because his case against you over the bonded warehouse break-in didn’t come to anything.’
Winnie nodded. ‘You could be right, Peg. He’s got a memory like an elephant that one,’ she said bitterly.
Every day they went to Atholl Road police station asking for news. Every day they were told the same thing, that Sandy had been charged and would remain in custody until the trial came up.
They missed him helping at the café. He had been responsible for so much and he’d dealt with it in such a capable manner. Each day they became more aware of what a tremendous load he’d been undertaking.
‘Good job we didn’t get rid of your wheelchair,’ Peg commented. ‘I don’t know where we would be if we weren’t able to pile heavy stuff in it.’
The weather had turned cold and damp so they were not selling very much ice-cream. Peg suggested they tried to replace the money those sales had been bringing in all summer by selling hot soup instead.
‘Encourage them to drink the stuff out of the mugs and that will cut down on the washing up,’ she urged.
‘That only works with the thin soups, but what about thick vegetable soup?’
‘We won’t serve it! If they want something thick then they can order a bowl of scouse and we can charge more for that, which will cover the cost of them sitting down and using a spoon.’
The drug-smuggling trial began in late October and made headline news in the Liverpool Daily Post and in the Liverpool Evening Echo. It even had a mention in some of the national newspapers as well. Sandy’s picture, as well as those of the three other men who had been arrested with him, was splashed across two columns. The names of all of them were on the flyers pasted on the billboards and newsstands.
