Lovers and Liars

by Josephine Cox

  ‘Bid now!’ Archie urged. ‘Go on!’ But John preferred to wait a minute longer.

  At thirty-six guineas, the bidding began to slow down. Then suddenly it picked up again and two of the bidders were the men standing directly behind John. Having made the deal beforehand between themselves, they could afford to go that extra mile, and much to John’s consternation, that was exactly what they did. John could hear other bids coming in, but he was distracted by the murmuring behind him. In the excitement, each man wanted to be the one in control.

  The auctioneer grew nervous. ‘Thirty-nine … I have thirty-nine guineas!’ He paused. ‘Forty, then! The bid stands at forty guineas.’ By now the sweat was running down his face and his eyes were more on the solicitor than on the bidding clients.

  Taking everyone by surprise, there was a sudden and unexpected development.

  Feeling confident, the two men behind John paused to exchange a quick word; and at that moment, four things happened in quick succession: John held up his number, as did another buyer at the far side of the room; Harriet gave the solicitor a dig in the ribs, he lifted his head and the gavel went down with unusual speed. ‘Sold at forty-one guineas!’

  Tilbrook’s voice startled the two men, who couldn’t believe their ears. ‘Number sixteen? Congratulations, sir,’ he said to John. ‘If you’ll make your way to the office, please.’ Then he picked up his gavel and paperwork, and stepped smartly down from his desk. ‘Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, that’s all for today.’

  Behind him the cries went up. ‘Too quick! He brought the hammer down too bloody quick! What the ’ell were Tilbrook playing at? It’s a fishy business, if you ask me. Forty-one guineas for that site! It’s givin’ it away!’

  The loudest protests went up from the two friends, who rushed after the auctioneer, furious at being cheated out of their prize. The other bidder had already stormed out.

  ‘What the devil’s going on, man? You knew we were serious bidders. You brought that damned gavel down without giving us a chance!’

  Bertram Tilbrook was used to such outcries. ‘You know the rules,’ he said firmly. ‘If you don’t keep up with the bidding, you lose out.’

  ‘But we were keeping up!’ one of the farmers objected. ‘Good God! We were the only two bidders left.’

  ‘No, you were not!’ The auctioneer felt worried enough without letting these two get the better of him. ‘You stopped bidding and I thought you were out of it. Another bid came in. I gave you time to respond, and you didn’t. It’s no use blaming anyone but yourselves. The parcel of land is sold and that’s that.’

  Feeling both angry and guilty, he hurried back to his office, unwilling to meet anyone’s eye. ‘Damn and bugger it!’ he muttered as he went. ‘Damn and bugger it!’

  Behind him, the two men got to blaming each other. ‘If you hadn’t stopped me to ask how far I was prepared to go,’ one said nastily, ‘we’d have got it easy!’

  The other farmer gave him a shove. ‘And you, Amos, should have known better than to keep pushing up the price, yer stupid bugger. You could see we were the only two after it.’

  ‘But we weren’t, were we, you blummen bastard. Thanks to you, somebody else sneaked in and took it from under our noses!’

  Oblivious to the furore, John felt stunned by events. ‘I can’t believe it! I just can’t believe it.’ Grabbing Archie by the shoulders, he shook him so hard that the old fellow’s teeth rattled in his head. ‘WE DID IT!’ he cried jubilantly. ‘I don’t know how, but by God, we did it!’

  As the people poured out, they congratulated John and Archie. ‘Well done, lads!’ someone told John, and another chimed in with, ‘Did my heart good, so it did.’ They all knew the two disappointed bidders. ‘They’ve already got more than they need,’ someone else said sagely. ‘It’s time one of us ordinary blokes got the better o’ them.’

  ‘Did you hear that?’ John felt so good he thought he’d have to dance right there and then on the spot – and much to everyone’s delight, that’s exactly what he did. ‘One of us.’ He reminded Archie of what the man had said. ‘We’re one of them now,’ he laughed.

  ‘No, we ain’t,’ Archie answered with a grin. ‘’Cause we’re landowners now.’

  Taken aback by his friend’s rush of arrogance, John corrected him. ‘We’ve been lucky today, Archie. Here in Liverpool, we’ve found our place, and our place is amongst the workers. The hardest part is now. We may be landowners, but that’s only the start. We’ve still got mountains to climb.’

  Sobered by Archie’s unthinking remark, he said quietly, ‘Every man has a dream, but he can’t do it by himself.’ Nodding towards the last few stragglers, he said, ‘They are the kind of men we need. Men who aren’t afraid to work. Men who will never achieve their own dream, but who like to see folks such as you and me do it for them. Do you understand what I’m saying, Archie?’

  The little man nodded. ‘You’re right,’ he said penitently. ‘I should be ashamed.’

  John gave him a friendly slap on the back. ‘You’ve nothing to be ashamed about,’ he said. ‘In fact, you’ve a right to be really proud. Nobody knows better than me how you’ve always done your share and more. But now we’ve got to get busy. Firstly we’ve to hand over my savings and collect the deeds. Then we’ll survey our little kingdom. After that, we’ll go home and wash up, put on our best togs, and take ourselves off to celebrate.’

  He thought of Harriet, of her generosity and her belief in him. ‘If yon Harriet wants to come, we’ll take her as well.’ He gave Archie a cheeky wink. ‘I reckon she’d be glad to come along. She’s taken a real fancy to you.’

  ‘Lord help me then!’ the little man chuckled. ‘I’ve seen prettier horses. Besides, how could I ever get my arms far enough round her to give her a hug?’

  ‘Prettier horses, eh?’ John teased him. ‘And what makes you think you’re such an oil painting?’

  Archie wagged a finger at him. ‘Now, now. There’s no need to get all personal.’ He took on a look of embarrassment. ‘In fact, if the truth were told, I do believe I’ve developed a soft spot for the dear lady.’

  ‘Oh, an’ why’s that, I wonder?’ John retorted with a grin. ‘It wouldn’t be because she’s something of a good cook, would it? Or is it because you’ve found out she’s got a bob or two?’

  Archie feigned indignation. ‘Not at all! She’s a fine lady, is our Miss Witherington … even if she is a better cook than myself. I mean, what do I care if she’s got her own lodging-house?’ He sighed longingly. ‘Mind you, I’ve got to admit, all o’ that does make her just the weeniest bit more attractive, especially to a mature man like meself, who prefers the finer things in life.’

  At that very moment, the woman in question was upstairs in an otherwise empty office, in deep conversation with the solicitor. ‘You’ve caused a bad atmosphere between me and the auctioneer,’ Mr Leatherhead told her worriedly. ‘I don’t know why you couldn’t have just given Hanley the land and be done with it!’

  ‘You know very well why,’ she retaliated. ‘I don’t want anyone finding out that the land belonged to me. Nor do I want Mr Hanley to feel beholden to me. It was best that I had no involvement in it.’ She smiled. ‘It all worked out well, and if for nothing else, I thank you for that much at least.’

  She fastened the buttons of her coat. ‘I’d best be away now,’ she said. ‘I don’t want them getting back to the house afore I do.’ A mischievous grin lifted her face. ‘I shall have to look suitably surprised and delighted when I hear the good news.’

  The moment Harriet had gone, Leatherhead hurried downstairs to the office where the auctioneer was worriedly pacing the floor. When the door opened, Tilbrook immediately vented his anger on the older man. ‘I could lose everything if this ever came out!’ he expostulated. ‘My job, and my good name!’

  ‘There’s no danger of that.’ Releasing the catches on his Gladstone bag, the solicitor removed a bottle of best whisky. He seized two tumblers from the shelf a
nd poured them both a stiff drink. ‘It all came out well in the end, with nobody any the wiser.’ Handing the other man a glass, he urged, ‘Come on, Tilbrook, drink up. Before number sixteen rushes in here, wanting his prize.’

  Swallowing his drink, Tilbrook gasped as the liquid went down. ‘In all the years I’ve worked at this game, I’ve never been known to end a sale before the bidding was finished.’ He looked at the older man with stricken eyes. ‘Maybe we should have called her bluff.’

  Leatherhead shook his head. ‘Nay. Harriet Witherington is no fool.’

  ‘Why didn’t she show her hand before now?’

  The solicitor had wondered the same.

  ‘I can’t work it out myself, and she’s never confided in me on that score,’ he answered. ‘All I know is, after years of living a modest life right under our noses – and I’m quite sure she must have known that her Aunt Amy had left her that land – she came to me with proof of her identity. All her papers were in order, and she knew what had been left to her, better than I did. That were two months ago. She wanted us to sell the job-lot by auction, so she could put the money away for an easy old age. Next thing I know, she’s back in my office, saying we’ve got to let that young pup Hanley acquire the land for a mere forty-one guineas when it’s worth so much more. How could I refuse? She’d known all along that we’d been plundering her inheritance, selling off the contents of that cottage a bit at a time, and she’ll not shrink from exposing us both if we should so much as hint to that young man that she’s had any part in this.’ Leatherhead lifted his glass and drank down the rest of his whisky.

  ‘She’s a sharp one, I know that,’ Tilbrook agreed. ‘Sitting tight while we dug ourselves into a deeper hole, and then coming forward just when we thought we were safe.’ The auctioneer shivered. ‘I’m telling you, all this is beginning to shatter my nerves.’

  ‘Pull yourself together, man!’ The solicitor poured them both another drink.

  His colleague appeared not to be listening. Instead he was thinking of every way she might get at them even now. ‘How can we be certain she still won’t come after us? There were some fine paintings and pieces of Regency silver in storage from that cottage – and we both got a good few quid out of that.’

  ‘Because when she insisted that I make certain the property was knocked down to that young man, she promised to look the other way over our misdemeanours.’

  ‘Is it watertight, that’s what I want to know?’

  Leatherhead gave a sly little grin. ‘We’re both in the clear, that’s all you need to know. And now I’d better be off. Here are the signed documents you’ll need from Miss Witherington.’ With a triumphant flourish, the solicitor withdrew the sheafs of paper from his pocket and threw them on the desk. ‘Signed, sealed and delivered. And now I really must go. A very good day to you, Bertram. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you!’

  The fat man’s laughter had only just died away when John knocked on the door. Feeling more confident after skimreading the documents, the auctioneer sat up straight, put on his best smile, and called John inside.

  ‘I’m here for the deeds to my property.’ John placed his wad of notes and coins nervously on the desk. ‘You’ll find it all there, every penny.’

  Archie stood directly beside him, grinning from ear to ear. ‘You did well, son,’ he kept saying. ‘You did real well.’

  As for John, he was still dazed at the speed of events, and the subsequent outcome. The site was his! He could hardly believe it, even now. It was his future; his wildest dream come true.

  Yet the glory of the day was deeply marred by Emily’s absence. He needed her like he had never needed her before. He wanted her so much to be by his side, to share in this day, and all the days to come.

  But she was content with her new man. She had no more need of John Hanley. It was a stark and lonely realisation.

  ‘John!’ Archie dug him in the ribs. ‘The gentleman’s waiting for your signature.’

  Emerging from his deep thoughts of Emily, John apologised.

  ‘Sorry. I was miles away.’ Leaning forward, John took the gold fountain pen from Tilbrook’s outstretched hand.

  ‘It’s not surprising that you are feeling somewhat bemused,’ the other man remarked condescendingly. ‘You’ve got yourself a valuable commodity there, at a very good price. In fact, you could probably sell it on the open market right now, for a deuced good profit.’

  John signed his name and returned the pen. ‘Not me,’ he replied decidedly. ‘It’s not a quick profit I’m looking for, but somewhere to build a business that I can be proud of.’

  ‘What kind of business would that be, if you don’t mind me asking?’

  Here, John saw his chance. ‘You might put the word out,’ he suggested. ‘I’m a skilled carpenter and joiner. I repair and build wagons, carts and barges. I can bend a piece of wood to any shape or form, so whatever the customer wants, I’ll provide.’

  The auctioneer was not impressed. ‘Not my line of interest,’ he said curtly. ‘But I wish you well.’ In fact, he couldn’t care one way or the other whether John sank or swam. ‘That’s our business concluded.’ He handed John the deeds, and held out his hand for a farewell shake. ‘Good day to you.’

  John swiftly reminded him of the receipt, which Tilbrook scribbled out and shoved across the desk to him.

  A few moments later, with receipt and deeds safely in his possession, John led Archie out of the building. ‘Another surly stuck-up bugger!’ Archie thrust his hands into his pockets and began to sulk.

  Smiling, John waved the deeds under his nose. ‘To tell you the truth, I wouldn’t care if he was the most miserable fellow on God’s earth,’ he joked. ‘Look at me, Archie! One minute I’m standing on the site, wishing and hoping, and the next minute, I’m holding the deeds in my hot little hand.’

  Archie gave him a slap on the back. ‘You’re right, matey! It’s time to celebrate!’

  John agreed, but, ‘First we must make our way back to the lodgings and tell Harriet the good news. Then I’ll ask if she’d like to come out and celebrate with us. She can advise me as to where I might safely deposit the deeds.’

  Archie had his own ideas about that. ‘Go to one o’ them banks that turned you down and shove the deeds under their noses, lad. I dare say this time they’ll fall over themselves to help you.’

  John didn’t care much for that idea and said so. ‘Once I’ve tidied the site and made at least one building good enough to work in, I intend starting the business and making money hand over fist. Why should I put my hard-earned profits in a bank that wouldn’t give me the time o’ day when I needed help?’

  Archie could see the reasoning behind it. ‘I never thought o’ that.’

  John quickened his steps. ‘Harriet will advise me, I’m sure,’ he said hopefully. ‘After all, she’s a businesswoman in her own merit.’

  ‘So she is,’ Archie agreed loyally. ‘So she is.’ In fact, the more he thought about it, the more Harriet went up in his estimation.

  They were entering the alley when Archie sent up a cry. ‘Look there!’ Calling John’s attention to the ragged figure bent over the midden, he declared angrily, ‘Filthy devil! What’s he up to?’

  As they approached, they saw how the man was discarding the contents of the midden, obviously looking for food because now, he snatched at a chunk of what looked like bread and rammed it in his mouth. Intent on filling his belly, the tramp didn’t see how John approached him, while Archie stayed back.

  ‘Don’t eat that filth,’ John said quietly. ‘Go and buy yourself a decent meal.’ Laying a handful of coins on the ground, he stepped away when the man stopped and stared, his mouth stuffed with blackened bread, and his eyes bulbous with fear.

  ‘It’s all right,’ John assured him gently. ‘I don’t mean to frighten you.’

  Now, as the man backed away, John held out his arms in frustration. ‘I only want to help you.’

  The tramp continued to
study him, his face smudged with dirt and his eyes still open wide, fearful and curious – and deep in the scrutiny there flickered a glimmer of recognition.

  Seeing that flicker, which he took to be fear, John said: ‘Have you no work?’

  Suddenly, the tramp snatched up the coins and continued to back off, inching his way down the alley, minute by minute widening the distance between himself and John.

  Watching him retreat, John was curious; in that moment when the tramp stared into his face, there was a reciprocal stirring of recognition; a deep-down feeling that he knew this man from somewhere. It was unnerving.

  There was something about the tramp that made John want to talk with him, to find out more about him.

  Now, as the man clumsily stumbled from the alley, John called after him, ‘I can give you work if you want it. Do you know the derelict site by the canal? You’ll find me there most days from now on.’ His voice echoed off the narrow walls. ‘Don’t forget to come and see us. My name is Hanley. Hanley!’

  ‘He’s gone.’ Archie came up beside him.

  ‘Do you think he heard me?’ John asked worriedly.

  Archie shrugged. ‘Who knows? And even if he did, who can say whether he’s prepared to work? Some o’ these vagabonds are too damned lazy to do anything but scrounge.’

  ‘Did you see how he stared at me?’ John was still disturbed by it.

  Archie had seen, but wasn’t unduly concerned. ‘I expect the poor devil’s mad as a hatter. Most of ’em are.’

  The chance encounter played on John’s mind all the way back to Harriet’s lodging-house. ‘I can’t help feeling I know him from somewhere.’

  Archie had the explanation. ‘Well, o’ course you do!’ he said. ‘He’s the same fella who spoke to us the other day at the Sailor’s Rest Hotel.’

  When John frowned, he went on: ‘We were minding our own business, having a conversation about me not being able to do my work on board ship, when he butted in, said as how the sailors would likely throw me over the side if I didn’t feed ’em.’ He gave a cursory glance up the alley. ‘Cheeky bugger. What’s it got to do with him anyway?’