by Irene Carr
Matt was going on in a whisper, ‘I heard a noise and looked out of the office window. There were two of them by the garage. I reckon one of them is inside now. What are you doing here?’
Katy explained, shivering in the night air, and from the tension. She finished, ‘I came to ask you what was going on.
Matt said grimly, ‘That’s what I’m asking myself.’ And then, doubtfully, ‘Will you do something for me, Katy?’
She turned her head to face him and breathed, ‘Yes.’
He pointed, his finger before her face: ‘They’ve opened one side of the gate — and wedged it, or the wind would have closed it.’ Katy nodded. She saw the grey square opening in the wall that marked the open leaf of the gate. Matt kept two wedges there to hold the gates open when needs be. Katy had used them for that purpose on occasion. Matt said, ‘Sneak around in the shadow of the walls so that feller outside the garage won’t see you. Then shut that gate. I’m going around the other way to the garage and I’ll jump on them when I see you close the gate. Then they won’t be able to run for it.’ He gave her a gentle push on her way and was gone.
Katy saw his tall silhouette merge into the shadows to be lost. She moved stealthily around the office to the side wall of the yard and then soft-footed along it to the front wall. Her coat was dark grey and covered her from neck to ankles. She was certain she could not be seen by the man outside the garage but hearing was another matter. She felt her way carefully though blindly in the gloom.
Katy knew that Matt, working his way around the square in the opposite direction, had further to go. She would come to the open gate before he reached the garage so he would not have to wait for her. She was edging along the front wall now and the open gate stood square before her, hiding the gateway. She was almost upon it when her toe stubbed lightly against something solid. She crouched to finger it, thinking it might be a brick but she found it was the wedge for the gate. She rose with it in her hand, was conscious of the breeze at her back and flirting with her hair which hung down below her shoulders. She wondered, What is keeping the gate open with the wind trying to close it? Then it came to her, that there was another man on the other side of the open gate.
That shocked Katy again, but only for a few seconds. She told herself that she had to shut the gate — somehow — because Matt was relying on her. At that moment she had confirmation of her suspicion. Someone moved on the other side of the gate, a soft footfall, then a man appeared. He stopped at the edge of the gate, his bulky figure only partly clear of it, his shoulder still propping it open. She could see him in profile and now, so close he was, barely six feet away, she recognised Arthur Spargo.
Katy still held the wedge. She transferred it from one hand to the other as she slipped out of her coat. She knew that the shadows would not hide her now because her white nightgown would give her away. But there was no help for that, and Arthur would see her anyway if he turned his head. She needed the coat because it would buy her a few seconds grace. Holding it by its collar in her right hand, the wedge in her left, she stepped forward.
Matt paused in the shadows just short of the open garage door and only five or six yards from the skinny little man who stood there. Ernie’s back was turned to Matt and his head swivelled uneasily as he shifted his gaze from the office on the other side of the yard to the inside of the garage. Matt could hear a faint splashing from in there and wondered what was happening. He could just see past Ernie and the open door to the front wall — and the dark grey square showed the gate was still open. Where was that girl? Now he saw another man back out of the garage and pass something to the first. Matt heard a whispered, ‘Hold that and don’t drop it!’ Then the second man turned back to the garage again.
Ivor drew a deep breath compounded of excitement and anticipation. Now for it! He glanced just once towards the gate in the front wall and saw his escape route was open, then he struck the match. It flared for less than a second. He held it, waiting for it to burn steadily, but before that could happen a fist closed over his hand and the match, snuffing it out.
Katy saw the flame flicker by the garage at the instant she lunged at Arthur Spargo. As her slight weight hit the gate it was just enough to send the unprepared Arthur staggering clear of it. Katy swung the coat so it wrapped around his head, muffling and blinding. She released it then and shoved at the gate again. It slammed shut, she shot the bolts across and set her back against it. Arthur fought out of the coat and cast it from him. Katy could see past him to where there was a struggle going on outside the garage and another man running towards the gate. But then Arthur waddled towards her, squeaking, ‘Get out o’ that!’ His voice broke high with panic.
Katy lifted the wedge in both hands, holding it by its thin edge, and skirled, ‘Keep back!’ He hesitated a second but then came on, fear driving him, and she warned again, ‘I will!’ But he still kept on and she lashed out.
Arthur lifted an arm and saved his head but yelped with pain as the thick and heavy wedge hit his elbow. He pulled back, clutching it with his other hand. ‘You’ve broken it!’ Now the other man came running, only to skid to a halt just short of the gate. Arthur whined, ‘Shove her out of it! She’s broken me arm!’
The newcomer took a hesitant step forward but Katy remembered him: ‘Don’t you come near me, Ernie Thompson! You’re in enough trouble already!’ And: ‘I don’t know what your wife will say when she hears what you’ve been up to!’ But Katy had a good idea, and so did Ernie. He shifted from one foot to the other, his gaze slid miserably from Katy to the cursing Arthur and back again. He pleaded, ‘Give me a chance, Katy, lass.’
She was tempted, suspecting that he had been pressed into this action, but then Matt came striding and shoving Ivor ahead of him. After snuffing out the match he had grabbed the neck of the startled Ivor’s jacket and yanked it down. So now the buttoned jacket was gathered about Ivor’s lower arms and they were pinioned to his side.
Matt was breathing hard and in a raging temper. He had a kind, approving word for Katy: ‘Well done, lass!’ She had held Arthur and Ernie at bay, though truth to tell, there was no fight in either of them. Matt had only to deal with Ivor — Ernie had run at the sight of Matt — and took him from behind and by surprise. Ivor was no match for him, anyway. When he turned on the others his voice cracked like a whip: ‘You were trying to burn me out! The garage and lorries stink of petrol! Here’s the can you used, the box of matches you were going to!’ He held both in his free hand. The other was locked on Ivor’s shirt collar. Arthur and Ernie shrank from the angry young giant but he snapped, ‘Stand still! If one o’ you tries to run I’ll flatten him!’ They froze and he held them for a moment, his gaze shifting from one to the other.
Arthur offered. ‘Can’t we forget about it? I’ll make it worth your while.’
Matt answered, ‘Shut up!’ His glare did the rest. Arthur closed his mouth, despairing. Matt said, ‘Up to the office.’ He jerked his head towards it and Arthur and Ernie moved off ahead of him. Ivor followed them, Matt still gripping his shirt collar. Katy had seized the opportunity to pick up her coat and slip into it. She walked alongside Matt and he told her, ‘When I’ve got these beauties inside you can get dressed and fetch a pollis.’
Katy was thinking hard and did not answer that. Ivor gasped, choking, ‘The pollis won’t do owt. I’ll say we came here to offer to buy this place and you turned nasty. It would only be your word against ours. That petrol tin and the matches could ha’ been yours and I’ll swear they are.
Matt replied grimly, ‘We’ll see about that.’ He halted them just outside the office. ‘This is close enough. We don’t want to blister the paint.’ When they stared at him, puzzled and uneasy, he explained, ‘You’re all going to write out what you did here tonight and what you intended. Then you’ll swear to it on the Bible.’ When Ivor shook his head, Matt went on, ‘Or we’re going to have an accident.’ He lifted the petrol can and shook it so they could hear the sloshing of its contents. Eyeing Ivor, h
e said softly, ‘There’s a fair drop left. I’ll pour it over you and set it alight.’
Ivor swallowed and whispered, ‘You wouldn’t dare.’ Then he gasped as the first of the petrol splashed on his head and ran down his face. He shrieked, ‘No! Stop it! I will! I will!
Matt lowered the can, ‘All right, get inside.’ He ranged them against the wall of the office and seated miserably on its floor. Ivor, still shaking and ashen-faced sat nearest the door. Matt lit the gaslight and Ivor jerked as the match spurted. Matt said drily, ‘You’ll come to no harm there —provided you behave yourself.’ Then to Katy, ‘Will you fetch the pollis now.’
Instead of answering, Katy tugged at his sleeve and drew him out of earshot of the gang. Matt asked, ‘What is it?’
Katy whispered, ‘Going to the police would hurt Ernie Thompson badly — he has a wife and children depending on him — and I think they forced him into this.’
Matt protested, ‘I’m sorry about that, but I’m not letting them off just for his sake. They tried to put us out of business!’ His anger was flaring again. He glanced past Katy at the gang and they took no comfort from his expression.
Katy plucked at his sleeve again. Her voice low and urgent, she pleaded, ‘If it goes to court they’ll pay lawyers. They won’t get off and they know that, but it will drag on for months.’
‘So?’ Matt insisted, ‘I’m not letting them go.’ He began to turn away.
Katy put in quickly, ‘No, I’m not saying you should, but listen: They have another yard in Yorkshire with a lot of lorries . . She whispered on and Matt listened, at first opposed but finally approving.
When Katy was done, Matt turned back to the gang and stood over them. ‘There’s paper and pen on the desk.’ He pointed, ‘You’ll take it in turns to write down why you came here tonight and what you did. Then you’ll witness each other’s signatures. We’ll start with you, Ernie.’ That was because he judged the little man to be the weakest member. When Ernie had finished his statement, written in a wavering, childish scrawl, Matt read it out. At one point Ernie had written, ‘They said they were going to settle you. I didn’t want to come with them but they said they would sack me if I didn’t.’ The Spargos listened, they knew, to what would be Ernie’s statement in court. They followed suit.
Matt shuffled the three signed and dated statements together and eyed the Spargos: ‘I’ll keep these in case of further trouble. They’ll be locked in a solicitor’s safe first thing tomorrow. But there’s one thing more. So long as you were around these parts you’d try to make trouble and I won’t have that. So I want you out of it inside of forty-eight hours. This is Thursday morning — just. By Saturday morning you will be gone. You’ll shut down your yard here and move to your place in Yorkshire. In the future, if you need to send a man and a lorry up here with a load, that’s fine. But neither of you, or Mrs Spargo, comes with it.’ Arthur groaned at mention of his wife and Ivor winced. Matt finished flatly, ‘If I see any of you in this town again, I’ll take these to the police.’ He flourished the statements.
Ivor muttered, ‘That’s against the law.’
Matt replied, ‘If you want to stick to the law then we go to the police. D’you want that?’
Arthur shot a frightened glance at his son and ordered, ‘Shut up!’ He looked at Matt and asked meekly, ‘Can we go now?’
Matt stood back to let them pass: ‘Get out.’ He followed them down to the gate, herded them out of it and bolted it behind them. Then he returned to the office and Katy.
She stood in the middle of the floor, her coat still clutched around her over her nightgown, her hair hanging loosely down her back. For the first time he was conscious of her beauty and his blood was still running hot from the recent confrontation. But then he remembered she was another man’s wife, she trusted him and he had virtually promised to protect her when he took her in. Besides, he had a lover and was engaged to be married. There was Fleur who loved and also trusted him. His days as a single man, of easy meetings and partings, were gone.
So he kept his distance, grinned at her and said, Well, we won.’ He laughed but Katy did not join in, only smiled. She said, ‘I think you did the right thing.’
‘So do I,’ he agreed confidently, ‘but it was your idea. We’ll know in a couple of days, but I’m sure now.’ Katy moved towards the stairs and he watched her go, then said, ‘You’re quiet. Are you worried about something?’ Katy hesitated with her foot on the first tread and he urged her, ‘Spit it out.’
She met him eye to eye and asked, ‘Would you have done it? I mean — set him alight?’ Then she waited, fearful, for his answer.
He stared for a moment, disconcerted, then grinned wryly. ‘So you thought I might. Well, Ivor thought I would so that was a good thing. It proves there’s a bit of an actor in me, because — no, I couldn’t do it, not to him or anybody. I once saw a chap caught in a petrol fire—’ He closed his eyes for a second to blot out the memory, then opened them to stare bleakly at Katy and ask, ‘Happier now?’
She smiled at him shakily, relieved. ‘Sorry. Yes, I’m happier. I couldn’t believe you’d do it at first, but you were so — real.’
She started up the stairs again and he called after her, ‘Thank you, and good night, Katy.’
‘Good night, Matt.’ She had the answer she wanted. Otherwise she would have had to admit she had misjudged a man yet again — and would have left this place. Her mind at ease she went to her bed. For a little while she lay listening to the small sounds of movement below as Matt got into his bed under the counter. Then there was silence and despite the excitement of the night, she slept.
When Vera Spargo returned home the following afternoon she found the yard busy but not as she liked it. None of the lorries or steam wagons were out on jobs. Instead they were lined up in the yard. Worried looking men were carrying furniture out of the house and loading it onto the vehicles. Vera could not see Arthur Spargo because he was supervising inside the house but Ivor was out in the yard watching the emptying of the office. As her cab turned in at the gate, Vera shouted at the cabbie, ‘Stop!’ He reined in and she addressed Ivor through the open window, ‘What the hell d’ye think you’re doing?’
He eyed her sulkily, but afraid for the wrath to come. He tried to divert it to his father: ‘Dad will tell you. He’s up at the house.’
‘Don’t try to squirm out of it, you little worm!’ Vera raged at him. ‘You tell me!’
‘I can’t.’ He jerked his head at the men passing back and forth from the office, laden with books and papers they were putting into a van. ‘It’s private. Family.’
Vera was not one to wash the family’s dirty linen in public. She accepted what he said but snapped at him, ‘Leave those fellers to get on with whatever they’re doing and you come along with me.’ Then to the cabbie: ‘Drive on!’ The jingling cab took her up to the house and Ivor followed reluctantly on foot.
A gaping Vera took in that the lower floor of the house was already stripped. Her buttoned boots echoed on bare boards. The walls were bereft of pictures, the windows of curtains. The furniture, including the mahogany sideboard, the pride of her parlour, had gone. Arthur Spargo was descending the now uncarpeted stairs and as he reached the foot of them, she grabbed him: ‘Come in here.’ She dragged him into the parlour, pulled Ivor in after him then shut the door behind them. Now they were alone and she demanded, voice cracking with anger, ‘Tell me what is going on!’
Arthur shrugged. ‘We’re giving this place up and moving down to Yorkshire.’
‘What?’ Vera’s little boot-button eyes flicked from one to the other as she refused to believe what she had heard. ‘Why? What are you talking about? For God’s sake! I go to spend a few days with me sister and leave a comfortable home and a business I’ve built up over the last twenty years. I come home and you tell me I’ve got to leave it all! Why?
Arthur flinched but stood his ground. He now feared something even worse than Vera and he said stubbornly, ‘It’s t
hat or prison.’ As she stared, for once silenced by him, he began, ‘We — that is, Ivor and me — we’d had enough o’ Matt Ballard and that Merrick lass so we decided to finish them . .
Vera listened to their tale, silent through to Arthur’s bitter ending: ‘So we have to go or it’s prison for the pair of us.’ A dreadful calm of acceptance had settle over Vera. Now she looked them over with contempt. ‘You pair of stupid, blundering, useless—’
She broke off then, searching for words strong enough to describe them but failing. ‘You waited till I was out of the way before you tried this. You knew I wouldn’t let you do it because I would ha’ known you’d mess it up between you! I’ve heard of people talking of somebody having a millstone around his neck but I’ve got two of them around mine!’ Her bitterness was increased because she knew she could not let them go to prison. She could do nothing to save the situation. But . . .
Vera strode to the door but paused there to look back at them. ‘This dog’s dinner wasn’t of my making. One of the men can drive me down to the station. I’m going to Yorkshire and I’m staying in a hotel till you get there with all our lorries and furniture and you’ve found a house — one that suits me!’ She walked out, but as her train hissed and clanked away from Sunderland Station she glared back at the town where Matt Ballard and Katy Merrick lived. It was to them she spoke when she whispered, ‘I’ll see my day with you, damn you!’ The threat was repeated by Ivor Spargo as he rode out on the last lorry to leave the yard.
