MB08 - I’ll Be Your Sweetheart

by Joan Jonker

  ‘Oh, I happen to know Ted isn’t up to fighting. In fact he’s never done a tap of work in his whole life. Him and yer mother sit on their backsides all day and wait for you to hand over what yer’ve pinched. As for being handy with his fists, your father couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag.’ They came to a lamp post and Corker brought them to a halt. Holding Sid by his coat collar, he put his face close. ‘Yer’ve got until we reach the end of this street to make up yer mind whether yer tell me what I want to know or you tell the sergeant at the police station. The choice is yours.’

  The lad knew he didn’t stand an earthly with this man. He seemed to know too much. He certainly knew his dad for what he was, and that was a weak layabout. ‘How d’yer know it was me what broke into this house? It could have been anyone.’

  ‘Oh, no, it couldn’t, lad, ’cos yer were seen coming out of the front door. I’ve got a good description of yer, and the witness would know yer again. You stole a purse containing all the money the old lady had in the world. Like the scum you are, you robbed her of every penny.’

  Sid Blakesley felt like kicking himself. He never used a victim’s front door, it was too risky. But he’d taken a chance that day ’cos the old lady was asleep in bed, and there didn’t seem to be any neighbours in the street. What a fool he’d been! The only way out now was to own up and try to talk himself out of being taken to the police station. ‘If I give yer the money for the old lady, will yer let me go?’

  ‘Oh, I see yer memory is coming back if yer can remember what was in her purse. Go on, tell me how much?’

  The boy was sweating now. How the hell could he remember the amount when he’d robbed several houses since? But he knew he had roughly three pounds in his pocket now, so he took a stab in the dark. ‘It was two pound and a few coppers. I’ll give yer that now and we’ll call it quits.’

  ‘Oh, not so quick, lad, we’ve only just started. Yer see, we haven’t got to the important part yet.’ In the light from the lamp, Corker saw the boy wet his lips, and he knew he’d get the truth now, for fear usually brought a loose tongue. ‘Besides the money, yer stole a fob watch which had belonged to her late husband. He was killed in the First World War, fighting for his country. He was a hero, you are a thieving coward. But you’re the one who will have to live with that knowledge. The fob watch was all the lady had left to remind her of her husband. There was a photograph of him inside the lid. Now, you won’t understand this, because you don’t know what true love is. But the lady is grieving, heartbroken by the loss of that fob watch. So we’ll walk now to the top of the street, and when we get there I want you to tell me what you did with the watch. Who did you sell it to? Yer see, I want to get it back for the lady, and you’re going to help me do that.’

  ‘I can’t do that!’ The boy was really sweating now. ‘Okay, I did steal it, I’ll admit that. But I haven’t got it now, so will yer take what money I’ve got in me pocket and give it to the old lady to make up for the watch? I can’t do any more than that, and the watch wasn’t worth more than a few pound.’

  Corker’s grip tightened. He was so angry he thought the lad should be made to feel some pain, but he couldn’t fight a skinny kid who was only half his age and a quarter of his weight and build. ‘I would like to give yer a good hiding, for that’s what yer deserve, and a taste of prison life. That might make yer change yer ways.’ Corker heaved a sigh. ‘I’m wasting me time on yer, for like yer father yer will never make anything of yerself. Yer’ll go through life stealing a bit here and pinching a bit there. And yer’ll never know what it is to have a friend, for good people will always give yer a wide berth.’

  ‘Take me money and let me go, mister.’ There was pleading in Sid’s voice, but Corker wasn’t going to stop until he got what he wanted.

  ‘Tell me who bought the watch off yer? And no lies because I’ve wasted enough time on yer. I want the name right now, and yer’d be foolish to mess around, lad. Out with it, now!’

  ‘I gave it to the landlord in the pub, and he took it to a pawnshop.’ The words tumbled from the lad’s lips. ‘He only got thirty bob for it, ’cos the pawnbroker said it wasn’t real gold.’

  Corker’s laugh was one of derision. ‘A thief among thieves. You, the pawnbroker, and Les Simpson are all of a kind. Liars and thieves. Yer see, that fob watch was solid gold, and worth at least ten pound. And either you, Les Simpson, or the pawnbroker, are going to get that watch to me in the next eighteen hours. If not, the police will be involved and all three of yer will be sent down.’

  ‘I haven’t got the watch, mister, so I can’t give it to yer.’ The lad was near to tears, and Corker was glad he was being made to suffer. ‘And I haven’t got that much money to buy the woman another one.’

  ‘She doesn’t want another one, you stupid boy! She wants to hold the one that her husband held.’ Corker pushed the lad away in disgust. ‘Just touching you makes me feel dirty. I could talk to you all night and wouldn’t be able to make yer understand what love or compassion means. But even though your nearness makes me want to shudder, I’m staying with you until the pub closes. Then, me and you are going to pay a visit to the landlord, and I’m going to teach him the error of his ways. So lean back against the wall and we’ll stay out of sight until throwing out time.’

  ‘Les is not going to like this. He can’t get the flaming watch back for yer. It’s a done deal now.’

  ‘When yer get to know me better, yer’ll find I don’t talk for the sake of hearing me own voice. Yer father would vouch for that if he was here. He had plenty of reason to know I mean what I say. So listen carefully. I couldn’t care less whether Les likes it or not. Or whether it’s a done deal, as you put it. And if Les doesn’t agree to get the watch back, then he’s in for a very hard time. The brewery will come down on him like a ton of bricks, and he’ll be out of a job. Then the police will pull him in and he’ll end up in jail. You, now, are your own boss, but you’ll end up in jail too. And the pawnbroker won’t come off much better when it’s known he’s buying stolen goods. That’s three crooked people going to prison because they were greedy, and had no sympathy for an elderly lady whose pleasure in life they took away. And you are all cowards who are going to blame each other. I wouldn’t be in the company of any one of yer if I had the choice. I’m here because I have seen what your selfishness and greed has done to a lovely old lady. And I want to see you atone for the heartache yer’ve caused.’

  Corker was dry with anger and talking. They were now leaning against a wall near the pub, and the smell of beer was very tempting. But first things first. He’d give up beer for good if the prize was seeing Flora Parker’s face light up with happiness.

  Chapter Twenty

  At ten o’clock the pub doors opened and customers came streaming out in pairs and groups. There were so many talking and shouting goodnight to each other, it was difficult to make out what was being said. But one voice Corker recognized immediately was Flo Blakesley’s. It wasn’t only the loud, coarse tone, it was the bad language. And one thing Corker couldn’t abide was to hear a woman blaspheme. He pulled Sid into the dark entry behind the pub, and whispered. ‘We’ll wait here, out of sight, until the landlord puts the bar on and locks up.’

  ‘Les won’t open the door for yer once it’s locked.’

  ‘No, but he’ll open it for you,’ Corker told him. ‘For all he knows yer might have something he can make a few bob on. I bet it wouldn’t be the first time he’s let you in when the customers have left. But let’s be quiet for a while, until the crowds disperse. Then you can knock and tell your partner in crime you want to see him.’

  Sid was sick in his tummy. And his head was whirling as he sought a way out of this mess. Right now he didn’t know who he was more afraid of, the landlord he was pally with, or this giant of a man. The landlord would make a dangerous enemy, for he had a hold over Sid. He knew too much of his business, and would think nothing of spilling the beans if he was crossed. To get himself off the hook h
e would spread the word that it was Sid who had robbed several houses in the area.

  ‘You don’t know Les.’ Sid’s voice was shaky. ‘He’ll kill me when he knows I’ve told yer about the watch. He’s a bad bugger, and he won’t worry about no old woman. He doesn’t worry about no one.’

  ‘You should have thought of that before you became a thief and a burglar, and got involved with the likes of Les Simpson. He’ll hang you out to dry. He’d sell his own mother for a few bob, and he’ll lie through his teeth and say everything is your fault and he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. I can see him now, looking at me and saying he knows nothing about a fob watch, and what you’ve told me is all lies.’

  ‘It’s not, mister, no matter what he says. I’ve told yer I stole it, but I passed it over to him.’

  ‘Then if yer want a bit of advice, lad, take heed of what I’m telling yer. No matter what happens, you’re in trouble for breaking into a house and stealing from it. And yer can’t talk yer way out of it because there’s a witness. But don’t let Les Simpson pretend he didn’t have anything to do with it. Don’t take all the blame because ye’re frightened of him. Tell the truth and I promise there’ll be no comeback from him. And that’s not because I like yer; quite frankly yer disgust me. But Les Simpson is a rotter who has been your accomplice in crime. And being older than you, and in charge of a public house, he should have turned you away the first time you offered him stolen goods. You have no doubt broken into the homes of some of his customers while they were drinking in his pub, and he’s bought the stuff off yer.’

  Corker could feel his anger rising. Fancy a working class man and his wife, sitting in the pub enjoying a drink which was served to them by a man who knew they were being burgled. It didn’t bear thinking about, and if the people who drank in the pub knew what the landlord was really like, they’d run him out of town. He’d never dare show his face again.

  The customers had gone now, all in different directions, and Corker pulled Sid out of the entry. ‘He’ll be locking up any minute, so remember, when yer knock, tell him yer’ve got something for him. Once he opens up, leave the rest to me. But I warn yer, if yer don’t tell the truth, all of it, then yer’ll live to regret it.’

  The bolt on the door was being shot when Sid knocked. A voice from inside shouted, ‘Can’t yer see we’re closed?’

  Corker gave the lad a dig, and with a quiver in his voice Sid called. ‘It’s me, Les. Open up.’

  ‘Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I’m busy now.’

  After another dig, Sid called, ‘No, it’s urgent. Open up.’

  They heard the landlord calling to the barman. ‘Leave the glasses, Jimmy, I’ll see to them. Go out the front door and I’ll lock it after yer.’

  There were a few noises from inside, then they heard the bolt being drawn back. ‘This had better be worth it, Sid, me feet are dropping off.’ The landlord was keen to shut the door after he’d pulled the lad inside, and would have pushed Corker out if he’d had the strength. ‘What have I told yer about bringing strangers here after we’ve closed?’ The landlord turned after he’d bolted up again, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw who Sid’s companion was. He gawped for a few seconds, wondering if the lad had said anything he shouldn’t have. Then he pulled himself together. ‘Well, if it isn’t Corker! Haven’t seen you in a long time.’ Les Simpson had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. Corker and Sid Blakesley didn’t go well together and the sight was enough to cause palpitations. ‘Can I get yer a pint, Corker? Or a tot of whisky?’

  Corker looked down on the man who was a foot shorter than him. And there was contempt in his eyes. ‘It’s more likely you’ll need a stiff whisky when yer know why I’m here.’

  Les tried to laugh it off. ‘Has the boy been up to his tricks again?’ He nodded to where the lad stood looking terrified. ‘What’s he done this time?’

  ‘Oh, grow up, man, before I lose me temper,’ Corker growled. ‘I know about the housebreaking, the stolen goods that yer flog in the pub, and how you and the lad here share the profits from the stuff stolen. So don’t try and come over all innocent, or try and put all the blame on the lad. For two pins I’d take yer in the street and give yer a good hiding. Me hands are itching to pay yer back for cheating and stealing. But before I laid a hand on yer, I’d bring all yer neighbours out so they could hear what yer get up to.’

  Les blustered. ‘I don’t know what he’s been telling yer, but it’s a pack of lies. He’s always asking me to buy knock-off stuff from him, but I chase him.’

  Corker moved so quickly the landlord didn’t have time to move out of the way, and he found himself being grabbed round the throat and lifted off the floor. ‘Now yer can tell me which pawnbroker bought the fob watch off yer? The one the lad here stole from the house of an elderly lady, along with every penny she had.’

  ‘I don’t know nothing about it,’ the landlord croaked. ‘Ask Sid, he’ll tell yer. I don’t know nothing about no watch.’

  The boy gulped before saying, ‘He knows all about it, Les. Someone told him. He was waiting outside for me when I left tonight. And he threatened to go to the police if I didn’t tell him what happened to the watch. I had to tell him; he’d have taken me to the police station. He knows me dad, and everything. And he said if yer don’t tell him who yer sold the watch to, he’d tell the brewery and yer’d lose yer job and go to prison.’

  ‘You stupid bugger.’ Les Simpson was in no position to argue, as he could see his easy life slipping away. But he wouldn’t admit even to himself that he was responsible for this mess. ‘I shouldn’t have listened when yer asked me to help yer out. I should have told yer to sod off, instead of feeling sorry for yer. But the police have got nothing on me, ’cos yer asked me to pawn the watch for yer and I did. And I gave yer the money I got for it. I did yer a favour, that’s all. There’s nothing in the law against that.’

  Corker lowered him to the floor. ‘I told my wife I’d be home at ten o’clock at the latest, and she’ll be worrying by now. And I don’t like to worry the wife, or see her upset. So I want the name and address of the pawnbroker now.’

  Les blustered. ‘I can’t remember, it’s gone out of me head. I think it was the one in Westminster Road.’

  ‘I’m getting annoyed now,’ Corker said. ‘The name of the pawnshop or a walk to the police station. The choice is yours.’

  It was with reluctance that the landlord said, ‘It was the one in Everton Valley, on the corner.’ Then, in an act of bravado, he added, ‘He’ll have sold it by now.’

  ‘I don’t think so. He’ll hang on to it until the dust settles. And you better hope he has, or I’ll make life very unpleasant for yer. I’ll take an hour extra for my dinner break tomorrow, and I’ll meet yer both here at one o’clock. I’ll expect yer to have the watch. In fact I’m warning you to have the watch, or else I’ll bring the police in.’

  ‘I can’t get it tomorrow. I haven’t got six pound to fork out.’ Les Simpson slipped up badly when he said that, for it seemed to bring Sid Blakesley to life. ‘You rotten liar! Yer told me yer only got thirty bob for it ’cos it wasn’t real gold.’

  ‘You keep yer mouth shut, yer stupid bugger. Yer’ve got us into enough trouble as it is. And yer’d better empty yer pockets, ’cos I can’t afford to fork out six pound.’

  ‘I suggest yer pool yer money, the two of yer. But no matter how or where yer find the cash, I want that watch here by one o’clock, or you’re both looking at prison sentences.’

  Corker bent to draw the lock back, then turned to where the landlord and the boy were standing yards apart and glaring at each other with anger written on their faces. ‘What a sorry sight the pair of yer are. The falling out of two thieves, and each one trying to put the blame on the other. Best of pals when all is going well and the money from stealing is rolling in. Now yer can’t stand the sight of each other. And it serves yer right, for the pair of yer should rot in hell.’

  The
door now open, Corker gave his last warning. ‘If the watch is not here at one o’clock tomorrow, in my hands, then the police will be here at two.’

  As Corker neared his house, he could see Ellen standing on the top step with her arms folded, and Molly leaning back against the wall. ‘I’m sorry, love, I know I promised to be home an hour ago, but I got held up.’

  It wasn’t often Ellen argued with her husband, but her nerves were taut with worry, and she took off on him. ‘Yer got held up! I’ve been worrying meself sick, and all you can say is yer got held up.’

  Molly, ever the peacemaker, patted Ellen’s arm. ‘All right, sunshine, I know yer’ve been worried sick, but Corker’s here now, and I’m sure he’s got a good reason for being late. I’ve been trying to tell you that, but yer’d got yerself in a right state.’

  Corker held his arms out and Ellen jumped into them. ‘Yer big daft ha’p’orth, I’ve been imagining all sorts of things happening to yer. When you weren’t home by ten o’clock I gave Molly a knock, ’cos I was a nervous wreck sitting on me own.’

  ‘You should have more faith in yer husband, me darlin’. I’ll not put meself in any danger when I’ve got you and the children to think of. Are all the children home?’

  ‘The boys are. Phoebe and Dorothy won’t be in before eleven.’

  Corker set his wife down gently and kissed her forehead. ‘I’ve got a lot to tell you and Molly, but I don’t want the kids to hear, in case they let anything slip out by accident.’

  ‘You can come in mine, if yer like,’ Molly said. ‘Ruthie will have gone up to bed by now, so there’s only Jack there.’

  ‘That’s a good idea, Molly, ’cos Jack will be interested when he knows what I’ve been up to. But you’d better tell the boys we’ll be next door, Ellen, in case the girls wonder what’s up. They take after you for worrying.’