Strolling With The One I Love

by Joan Jonker

  ‘Don’t begrudge the man, sunshine, he’s probably worked hard for it.’

  ‘I don’t begrudge him, queen, I’m just bleeding jealous.’

  Charles Coburn looked up and down the street before stepping on to the pavement. Then he peeled off his soft leather gloves before taking a set of keys from his pocket and handing them to Bill. They exchanged a few words before the rent collector gave several sharp raps on the knocker. It was an ornate brass one which Miss Parkinson used to clean religiously every day. Now it was a dark brown colour as it hadn’t had a cloth to it since she left.

  ‘If they’re in, they have no intention of answering,’ Monica said as the collector gave another few raps, harder this time. ‘But Bill’s got the keys, why doesn’t he just go in? After all, Mr Coburn owns the bleeding house!’

  She’d no sooner finished speaking than the landlord gave a nod to tell the collector to use the keys. Then the two men disappeared from sight into the darkness of the house. ‘Go over, Maggie,’ Monica said, ‘find out if yer sheets are in there.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m not going over until they come out. And I’ll have a bet with anyone they’ll both be sick as parrots after they’ve seen what those villians have done to that house. It breaks my heart to think of the way Miss Parkinson kept it like a little palace. But I will go over when they come out and ask about me sheets. I can’t afford to buy new ones, and I’m not getting a Sturla’s cheque, either, and be in debt for months to come. All because of those ruffians and thieves the landlord let the house to. And I’ll tell Mr Coburn I’d have thought he’d be a better judge of character, with him meeting so many people. He should know a rotter when he sees one.’

  It was twenty minutes before the two men came out, and both looked shaken. The women saw Bill nod his head towards Kate’s house and begin to lead his boss across the street. ‘Oh, my God, they’re coming here, and look at the state of the place!’ Kate began to panic. ‘Quick, push the sofa back into place and take those cups into the kitchen. Mr Coburn will wonder what sort of people live in this street.’

  ‘He’ll think yer house is perfect after he’s come out of that hell-hole,’ Maggie said, walking towards the door. ‘I’ll let them in.’

  ‘I don’t want no bad language out of you, Monica.’ Kate was straightening a lace runner on the sideboard that didn’t need straightening. ‘Let’s all act like ladies.’

  ‘It’s too late for me to learn how to act, queen,’ Winnie said with a hint of mischief in her eyes. ‘So they’ll have to take me as I am.’

  When the two men came into the living room, their hats now in their hands, the first person Charles Coburn noticed was Winnie. ‘Well, I’ll be blowed if it isn’t Winnie Cartwright!’ He seemed really surprised and pleased to see the little woman. ‘I never expected to see you, Winnie. It’s years since I last set eyes on you, and I have to say you haven’t changed one little bit.’

  ‘Yes, I have, Charlie. I didn’t have a moustache the last time yer saw me!’

  Five women and one man were standing with their mouths open. The women couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Winnie had never once mentioned that she knew the landlord, let alone well enough to call him Charlie. The rent collector could have kissed the little woman for taking some of the drama out of the situation and putting his boss in a better mood. At least, he was hoping he’d soon be in a better mood.

  Mr Coburn nodded his head to each of the women in acknowledgement. He knew their faces but because he seldom collected the rent himself, couldn’t remember their names. However he would do his best not to let them know this. After all, they were good tenants and their rent money kept him and his family in luxury. So his eyes were alert when he asked for, ‘Mrs Duffy?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Coburn.’ Maggie was sitting on one of the dining chairs and lifted her hand. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve discommoded yer, but it can’t be helped. Those people yer’ve put in Miss Parkinson’s old house are rogues and thieves. They’ll send me to an early grave with their carryings on, and you’ll have no house left ’cos they’ll destroy it.’

  ‘They already have, Mrs Duffy. When Bill told me you’d said they were chopping doors up to make firewood, I didn’t believe him because I thought it was too far-fetched. But you were right! That is precisely what they have done. They have stripped the place bare. I have over a hundred properties in the Liverpool area, and can honestly say I have never seen such wanton destruction in my life. But let me put your mind at rest, Mrs Duffy, and the rest of you ladies – those people will never again set foot in that house. And although I know it’s small consolation after the worry you’ve been put through, your missing sheets are over there. Bill will get them for you before he changes the locks on the property and informs the police.’

  Maggie gave a deep sigh of relief when she knew her bedding was safe, even though she’d have to wash it again. But she still had to say what was in her mind. ‘The whole street knew that was a bad family from the night they turned up with a handcart, a load of rubbish and mouths that churned out the sort of language yer only ever hear from dockers or fishwives. So if we could see they were no good, why couldn’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Winnie said, ‘I’m surprised at you, Charlie, letting them get through the net. Yer must be slipping, lad.’

  ‘I was given no hint that they were anything but a decent respectable family. A man came into the office, in work clothes, and said he was on his way to his job in the rope works in Hawthorne Road. He paid the week’s rent in advance and I saw no reason why I shouldn’t hand him the keys. How was I to know I’d been taken for a sucker? The man wasn’t a member of the Hunt family, he was just someone the husband drank with and asked to do them a favour.’ Charles Coburn glanced at Bill. ‘You can tell them what we’ve found out today.’

  ‘Well, with you ladies complaining about the family, and with me never seeing them, I didn’t know what to think. So I asked one of the rent collectors who works in a different part of the city if he’d ever heard of them. He said the family were troublemakers and a bad lot, but more than that he didn’t say. However, I mentioned this to Mr Coburn when I got back to the office today, and we went in his car to find the other collector to ask if he knew any more than he’d told me.’

  When Bill stopped to take a breath, Kate tried to hurry him up. ‘Come on, Bill, don’t keep us waiting, what did yer find out?’

  ‘That the father of the family, Jack Hunt, known in most quarters as Jacko, is a rag and bone man, hence the handcart you saw them with. They make a habit of moving into houses for short stays, but from what we’ve been told they have a broken-down caravan on a field somewhere and live there like gypsies. What they’ve done to the house opposite is their usual trick. They’ve fooled many a landlord with it. They chop everything up that they can and sell it around the doors for firewood, and they’ll steal anything they can get their hands on. The kids have been taught to steal from the time they are able to walk, don’t see anything wrong with it because they don’t know any different. What they rob, the man sells when he’s out with his handcart. That’s how they make a living. If you hadn’t cottoned on to them, Mrs Duffy, and me and Mr Coburn hadn’t acted so quickly, your sheets would have been on his handcart tomorrow, and sold to some unsuspecting woman.’

  ‘And what about the damage to yer property, Charlie?’ Winnie asked. ‘Can’t yer do nothing about it?’

  ‘Wouldn’t be worth trying, Winnie, I’m afraid. They’re down and out rotters and haven’t the money to pay for the damage, which I can tell you is extensive. Bill will inform the police in case they come back today and try to gain entry. The locks will be changed, but as they don’t seem to have any fear of authority, they may break a window to get in. I don’t think they will, but best not to take chances. They’ve hoodwinked me once, they’ll not find it so easy to do it again.’

  ‘D’yer know why me and me mates are so upset about it, Mr Coburn?’ Kate asked. ‘We were all fond of Miss Parkinso
n who was a good friend and neighbour. She loved that little house and looked after it well. It would break her heart if she knew what a state it was in now. Twenty-five years it was her home, and this lot come along and in three weeks they’ve ruined it. If I could get me hands around their necks, I’d strangle them.’

  ‘Well, I don’t intend to go as far as strangling them,’ Charles Coburn said, ‘but I can assure you I won’t allow them to get off scot-free. I intend to make it my business to find out where the caravan is stationed and I’ll make life very unpleasant for them. I’m not a vindictive man but I strongly believe that men like this Hunt person should not be allowed to go through life without doing an honest day’s work, living on the backs of decent, hardworking people.’

  ‘That’s a man after me own heart,’ Monica said. ‘Whatever yer have in mind to do, Mr Coburn, do it twice. Once for yerself and once for us.’

  Thinking of the rents he still had to collect after he’d made the house opposite safe, Bill put a hand on Maggie’s arm. ‘If yer want to come over with me, Mrs Duffy, I’ll hand the sheets out to you.’

  ‘Yes, okay, lad, I’ll come with yer. I might be able to get them washed again and on the line before the family come home.’ She raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘My old ma used to say that a woman’s work is never done, and I know only too well what she meant.’

  When Maggie had left with the rent collector, Charles Coburn made a move to follow them. But he changed his mind and smiled down at Winnie. ‘We had some good laughs when I was collecting the rents, didn’t we? I remember you used to make the best pot of tea in Liverpool, and I can also remember the taste of your rhubarb pie. I used to look forward to getting to your house, my mouth would be watering while I waited for you to open the door.’

  ‘Ah, well, that’s yer own look out, Charlie! Yer went up in the world, and when yer started to employ men to do the collecting for yer, we only set eyes on yer every blue moon.’ Winnie grinned impishly. ‘Yer can’t have plenty of money, posh clothes and my rhubarb pie.’

  ‘But if I called one day, you wouldn’t refuse me a cup of tea and a slice of pie, would you?’

  ‘Of course I wouldn’t, yer daft nit! But yer’d have to give me advance warning, ’cos I don’t bake every day now I’m on me own. I don’t forget friends, Charlie, and yer’ve done me some favours over the years so I’d be delighted to bake a pie especially for you.’

  Kate pretended to look shocked. ‘Winnie Cartwright, I do believe ye’re flirting with the landlord! What would people think if they heard yer?’

  ‘They’d think I was very enter— enter— oh, what’s the word I’m looking for, Charlie?’

  ‘I think the word you’re looking for is enterprising, Winnie.’

  ‘There yer are, queen, they’d think I was very enterprising.’

  Monica chuckled. ‘And forward, throwing yerself at him.’

  ‘If yer insist, queen, I’ll agree I’m enterprising, forward, and I’m throwing meself at him.’

  Charles was enjoying himself, remembering all the laughs he’d had with this woman who was only the size of sixpennyworth of copper. But what she lacked in size, she made up for in honesty, loyalty, compassion and humour. And she had the courage of her convictions. She would never be afraid to tell you to your face what she thought of you, landlord or no landlord. ‘If you’re going to throw yourself at me, Winnie, can we do it in private, please? Say I call to your house on Friday, around twelve o’clock, so I’m hungry enough to eat a whole pie?’

  ‘That’s fine by me, lad, I’ll look forward to it.’

  Through everything that had been said over the last half-hour, Betty and Margaret had sat like statues. It was like being in the pictures, only this time they were in the best seats. Betty felt really important when as Charles was leaving he said to her, ‘I know your face, you live in the next street, don’t you?’ When she nodded, he added, ‘I’m good with faces but hopeless with names.’

  He was almost out of the door when Monica said, ‘Mr Coburn, we’ll be watching out on Friday, and if ye’re in Mrs Cartwright’s house more than half an hour, we’ll be knocking on her door. After all, it doesn’t take more than that to eat a piece of ruddy pie.’

  Kate gasped. ‘Monica Parry, don’t be so rude!’

  But Charles’s head was thrown back and he roared with laughter. It was a long time since he’d enjoyed himself so much. ‘Ah, a piece of pie, yes, I agree. But I intend to eat more than one piece if Winnie’s baking is as good as it was when I last called. However, as you will be keeping vigil, I’ll make sure I don’t indulge myself too much, and there’ll be a slice left for each of you.’

  When the two women returned to the living room, Winnie was sitting with a look of pure innocence on her face. Kate stood in front of her, hands on hips and head tilted, and said, ‘Well, aren’t you a ruddy dark horse! Yer never mentioned that yer were on friendly terms with the landlord! In all the years I’ve known yer, yer’ve never said a dickie bird.’

  Winnie lifted her open hands. ‘What was there to tell yer, queen? I’ve lived in this street a lot longer than you young ones, so I’m bound to know more people than you do. There was a time when Charlie collected the rents himself every week, and we got on well together. I’d ask him in for a cuppa, and he became very partial to my pies.’

  ‘Oh, come off it, girl, there’s more to it than that!’ Monica forgot herself and sat on the arm of the sofa until she saw the daggers coming her way from Kate, and quickly transferred her bottom to one of the wooden chairs. ‘He was dead friendly with yer, and anyone with half an eye could see he was pleased to see yer.’

  ‘And I was pleased to see him, queen, ’cos he’s a nice bloke.’

  Kate could see the little woman was reluctant to say any more, and she didn’t blame her with Betty and Margaret being there. ‘Well, I don’t know about you ladies, but I’m going to have to get the dinner on the go. I haven’t even peeled the spuds yet.’

  Betty quickly got to her feet. ‘Me and Margaret will have to be going as well. I just hope the stew hasn’t burned the backside out of the pan. But I thank yer for inviting me and Margaret, Kate, ’cos it’s been a real interesting afternoon.’

  Margaret nodded. ‘It certainly has, it’s been an eye opener.’

  ‘Yer must come again, when it’s a bit quieter and we can have a talk.’ Kate couldn’t wait to get Winnie on her own. She felt there was a lot her friend was keeping to herself. While she might be wary with folk she didn’t know very well, she would confide in her and Monica in private. ‘One afternoon next week, perhaps?’

  ‘You come to ours for a change. Say next Monday, and the three of yer are welcome.’

  ‘That’s nice of yer, Betty,’ Monica said. ‘We’ll bring some cream cakes with us.’

  ‘Yer will not! It will be afternoon tea and cakes, courtesy of Mrs Blackmore and her daughter, Mrs Corbett.’

  ‘We’ll look forward to that.’ Kate saw them off before dashing back into the living room. ‘Now, Mrs Cartwright, what’s this about you and our landlord being on such close terms?’

  ‘There was no reason for me to tell yer about him, queen, ’cos I didn’t think I should discuss his business behind his back. But as there’s only you and Monica, and I know anything I say will not be repeated, I’ll tell yer, seeing as ye’re so interested. It all happened a long time ago, I’m not telling yer anything new.

  ‘Charles didn’t own so much property in those days, and he used to do his own collecting. He’d tell me about his family while we were having a cuppa, just friendly chats. He had a wife and four young children who he idolized. Then something terrible happened. I can’t remember how long ago it was, but it was before my Sam died that he lost his wife suddenly. She’d been complaining of headaches and the doctor was giving her pills to ease the pain. Gradually it got so bad, Charles took her straight to the hospital. They found some sort of growth on her brain, I can’t remember what they called it, all I know is she died
within two weeks and he was devastated, a broken man. Left with four young children and a business to run, he was out of his mind. I offered to go down every day and see the children had their breakfast and got off to school all right. Then I’d go back late afternoon for them coming home from school. I’d make them something to eat and stay with them until Charles got home. I did that until he found a daily help who would do everything, see to the children, do the cooking and the washing and ironing.’

  Kate and Monica were both shaking their heads. ‘The poor bugger!’ Monica said, feeling for the man. While Kate asked, ‘Winnie, why have yer never mentioned this to us? The poor man must have been out of his mind.’

  ‘It wasn’t my place to tell yer his business, queen. Besides which, I didn’t know yer very well at that time. He took it very badly, as I did when Sam died, and that’s only natural when yer lose someone yer love. He started to work harder and harder, buying up as many properties as he could lay his hands on. Not because he’s a greedy man, but as he told me, to take his mind off what he had lost.’

  ‘How old are the children?’ Monica asked.

  ‘They were schoolchildren then, quite young, but they’ll all be grown up by now. I wouldn’t be surprised if they weren’t married. I’ve only seen Charlie a few times in the last ten years, and I didn’t like asking in case it still hurt him to talk about it. He came to see me when Sam died, and offered me any help I wanted, but while I appreciated his offer, I was hurting too much inside to want to bother with anyone.’ Winnie’s sigh came from the heart. ‘It’s funny, but when someone yer love dies, yer try to punish yerself because yer feel guilty that you’re alive and they’re not.’

  ‘Didn’t he ever marry again, sunshine?’

  ‘I couldn’t tell yer that, queen, ’cos it’s not the sort of question yer would ask. I wouldn’t anyway.’

  ‘Ooh, I think he will have done,’ Monica said. ‘With his looks and money, he’d have the women running after him. How old was he when his wife died?’