‘I’ll find a means of slowing the buggers down a bit,’ she whispered to herself. In her seventies, she remained alert in the brain department, and that was the main thing. Also, there was no hurry. She must give them time to come to terms with today’s events. Then she would strike back.
Thirteen
The clothes dried quickly enough, though Elsie Stewart’s anger continued to ooze until it contaminated every drop of blood, every cell, in her slight, furious body. Ian Collins, a fellow trader during Elsie’s years on Smithdown Road, had tried to drown her like some feral alley cat. Madam Helen Browne would be all right, because Madam-usually-Nellie was younger, fitter – especially just lately – and she lived close by, but . . .
What had happened to the other Nellie, the quiet, stupid Nellie, who today had turned into a virago reminiscent of Marie and Alice, those two beautiful, impossible daughters so full of cheek, disobedience, and sheer bloody-mindedness? Damn them. ‘I might have been better off if they’d all copped it with that bomb, all seven of them.’ She’d been a waitress, an usherette in a cinema, a cleaner. She had toiled to feed and clothe the younger ones after Chippy’s death, and she had worked her fingers through to the bone. ‘Mostly for the special one,’ she muttered, ‘the ungrateful little bitch.’
Elsie threw her soggy shopping basket across the room. ‘Martin bloody Browne,’ she hissed. She would have to be especially cunning, because damaging him was one thing, but Nellie, too, knew about the so-called fraud, which meant that direct action was out of the question. How, then? How was she going to administer punishment?
Sideways, she decided. A different target in a different place . . . The kettle boiled. While dunking biscuits and drinking a welcome cup of tea, Elsie began to formulate her plans. The three musketeers were inseparable. Hurt one, hurt all. Today hadn’t been the end of something, oh no. It was just the beginning.
Frank, after stealing and eating Alice’s ice cream cone, was now running about with what looked like half a tree. His owner sat on a bench and watched her dog and his antics, her mind still filled by the almost incredible knowledge that her husband could walk again. He had gone to town with Peter; he wanted a new shirt and tie for the reception this evening. And he was doing too much by far.
‘Hello, beautiful.’
She looked up at Harry; he was the beautiful one. ‘Oh, it’s you.’
‘What a miserable way to say hello. Shall I go away?’ he asked.
She sighed dramatically. ‘Just don’t get too friendly. Any one of our neighbours might come along and I don’t want to—’
‘Don’t want to be the talk of the bagwash?’
‘Something like that.’
He placed himself at the opposite end of the bench. Her mad dog was dashing about with the bough of a tree, while Alice was looking gorgeous as usual. ‘Did the doctor confirm your pregnancy?’
‘A gentleman wouldn’t ask that sort of question,’ was her swift reply.
‘I’ve never claimed to be a gentleman. You were getting the results today.’
Slowly, she turned her head and stared at him. ‘True. And yes, I’m expecting a baby boy next spring. I have to call him Callum.’
‘Who says?’
‘Callum, of course. Our ghost, my father’s older brother. You have met him – remember? Harry?’
‘That’s me.’
‘Dan’s dashing about too much. He could have another stroke if he doesn’t watch out.’
Harry thought about that for a few seconds before delivering his opinion. ‘He’s probably excited, Alice. I’m sure he’ll slow down sooner rather than later. It’s his life, so let him live it. What else can you do? Lock him up?’
She burst out laughing, raised a hand and pointed. Her puzzled boxer was trying to walk between two trees, but the timber he was carrying proved larger than the space available. ‘Mad husband, mad dog,’ was her delivered judgement. ‘I suppose they make a good pair. I just wish my Dan would slow down.’
‘I don’t want him to die,’ Harry said quietly. ‘I’ve got used to him. He’s a good bloke and an ace poker player, damn him. Two quid he’s had out of me so far. Mind, he’s got Peter coaching him. Pete’s teaching Olga now, and she is bloody lethal. In fact, if she went to Monte Carlo, we’d have to contact all the casinos with a warning – “the Russians are coming”.’
‘She will be a devil at poker,’ Alice laughed. ‘I wonder if her name means grim determination in Russian? She doesn’t do anything by halves – it’s all or nothing.’
‘Good marriage, that one,’ he said. ‘Why are you still giggling?’
‘Oh, Harry, you don’t know the half of it.’
‘Tell me.’
She turned and looked at him; he was a handsome devil. ‘Don’t go jangling to anybody. If you do, I’ll get Callum to put a curse on you.’
‘Trust me. Well, trust me unless you’re up a ladder hanging curtains.’
Alice took a deep breath. ‘Before they were engaged, she talked to me, asked me would I buy a hat or a pair of shoes without trying them on for size. So I told her I wouldn’t. Then she said she was going to try on Peter.’
‘For size?’
She shrugged. ‘He was her first, and she’s forty-seven. She probably gave him marks out of ten. Anyway, she told me he was all right, so she was going to marry him. The butcher was after her, you know.’
‘With a meat cleaver?’
‘No, you daft beggar. With two pork chops and a few sausages. Bribery.’ Alice scanned the field for her dog. Frank must have turned sideways to get his branch through the row of trees, but he was now imprisoned and trying to get back out without turning sideways. ‘Go and get the damned fool for me, Harry. He’s stuck again.’
‘OK.’
Alice watched as the man who might well become her second husband strode across the grass. Loose grey slacks and blue shirt failed to disguise toned muscle that expanded and contracted as he moved. Oh, and he had a very good bum. This was a sin, she advised herself inwardly. Was she willing Dan to die, or was she simply admiring the scenery? Well, a cat could look at a king, and Harry was no king. He was a plumber.
He returned with dog and tree part. ‘I grabbed it off him, but he went back for it. I think he’s for taking it home. Don’t worry – I’ll see to it when he gets fed up with it. I’m dismantling the loft, so what’s one more tree on top of that lot?’
She chuckled. ‘Vera’s face when you said you were going to poison them.’
‘Your face was the same when I told you.’
‘Told me what?’
‘That I was going to do away with the pigeons.’
‘All right, all right.’ She changed the subject. ‘Olga’s giving her money away before she’s got it.’
‘I know.’
‘Are you on her list?’
‘I am.’ He lowered his voice. ‘You have a lovely face.’
‘And you’ve got good muscles. I was watching you when you went for Frank. And I’m wondering is it just lust, or do I love two men? Then there’s this baby, and—’
‘And I’ll be there if and when . . . well, I’ll be there. Dan’s asked me to look after you if anything happens to him. Alice, it was love at first sight for me. Or maybe first sound, when you spoke to me. I can’t lose you.’
‘Don’t talk soft – I’m going nowhere.’
Frank stood by with his treasure at his feet. He was taking it home and would brook no argument.
A breathless Neil arrived on the scene. He threw himself at the bench and sat between the woman who had helped Mam come back to life and the man who had found apprenticeships for him and his brother.
‘Are you all right?’ Alice asked.
He shook his head and waited for his breathing to settle. ‘I went for spuds and cabbage,’ he managed after a few seconds. ‘Cheaper down Smithy Road. And she had the wotsit – that thing you use to pull the cover down over the window when the sun shines.’ He gulped more air.
&
nbsp; ‘Who did?’ Harry asked.
‘Mrs Quigley’s sister.’
‘My sister? Our Nellie?’ Alice was flummoxed. Nellie with a weapon?
‘Calm down, Alice – let him speak.’
She glared at Harry. ‘Shut up.’
Neil picked up his thread. ‘Yes – Mrs Browne from the paper shop. And she shoved the end with the hook against this thin old woman – I think it was your mother. It was frightening; I nearly dropped the spuds.’
Alice closed her eyes for a few moments. Old Elsie wasn’t flavour of the month in Nellie’s book these days.
‘Take it easy,’ Harry advised her.
‘I’m all right,’ she snapped. ‘Sorry, Harry. I will be OK.’
Neil continued with his story. ‘Somebody took the pole thing off her, then she had her fingers round the old woman’s throat, and the old woman was scratching her. Anyway, somebody chucked a bucket of water over them and the old woman went away.’
The colour drained from Alice’s face. ‘When?’ she asked.
‘Er . . . about half an hour ago. When it had all stopped, I took the shopping to Mam, then knocked at yours, but there was nobody in, and Frank didn’t bark, so I thought I’d try here.’
‘Bugger,’ Alice breathed. ‘You two go home. Take Frank and his tree. I’ll have to go and check our Nellie.’ What the hell was going on now? She nursed the strong suspicion that it was her own fault for inviting Muth to Sunday dinner.
Leaving the pair to look after Frank and his sacred wood, Alice made her way up Penny Lane, turning when she reached Smithdown Road. In the newsagent shop, she found Claire, but no Janet. Janet had gone to tell their husbands that Olga would be putting money into the business. ‘It all kicked off,’ Claire told her. ‘Our Janet only missed it by a few minutes, but she left through the back door, so she saw nothing. Mam used the awning pole from here, from this shop. She came to tell us about Olga’s money, and then—’
‘Where’s your mother now?’
‘She ran in when it was all over, got dried and changed upstairs because somebody threw—’
‘I know about the water, love.’
‘She’ll be with Dad and the babies.’
‘The other shop?’
‘Yes. Mam’s upset.’
‘Don’t you worry, love.’
‘I’ll try, Auntie Alice.’
Alice took herself down to the new shop. Just before she reached it, Callum spoke. ‘I told you it would be better if I kept her away. I was right.’
‘Bog off,’ she whispered from the corner of her mouth. He had better leave everything alone until April, because she had a developing baby to think about as well as a daft husband. Dan probably had delusions of immortality after the miracle performed by God via Uncle Callum, while she needed to be calm and . . . normal. Normal? Living in a haunted house? That wasn’t going to help towards calm, was it?
She walked into the new shop. Nellie was seated on a dining chair, one of a refurbished set on sale, while her husband stood behind a small counter. ‘Hello, Alice,’ he said.
Nellie waved a finger. ‘This is your fault,’ she told her sister.
‘I never told Muth to come here, Nellie. She’s having her Sunday dinner with us next week, that’s all.’
‘Go away,’ Nellie whispered. ‘Go before I get that pole again.’
Alice straightened her stance. ‘So you want to kill my baby, do you?’
The older woman’s jaw dropped. ‘I didn’t—’
‘You didn’t know? Do you deserve to know? Because you are turning into Muth. Remember the strap and the slipper? What’s the difference between them and an awning pole, eh? What’s the difference between my baby and whatever’s going on in the stomach of a seventy-odd-year-old woman?’
‘Hang on,’ Martin shouted. ‘Don’t be saying stuff like that to her – she’s had enough stress for one day, thanks.’
‘No, I won’t hang on. Muth could have cancer, an ulcerated bowel – anything. Bodies start to wear out after nearly three-quarters of a bloody century. Don’t be surprised if she has you up in court over this, because she was walking down a public street, a shopping area, and you saw red. I don’t like her, but Nellie committed a crime by assaulting her.’
‘She was standing and staring,’ Martin managed to say. ‘Giving us the evil eye, she was. And she won’t sue, because I told her I knew she stole from the till for years.’
Alice put her hands on her hips. ‘What do you want? To sell tickets? To charge people for standing and looking in shop windows? Because you’ll be bloody lucky to get that past Parliament.’ She returned her attention to Nellie. ‘Why didn’t you see red when she made your family’s life hell, eh? Can you only see red when you have a man to guard your back?’
Nellie, stunned by her little sister’s ire, offered no reply.
Martin came to stand beside his wife. ‘It’s nothing to do with having me here. Nellie’s got a cob on because she’s a grandma who doesn’t want your evil mother coming near the babies. Elsie got rid of our daughters, and we had to find them. We missed the first part of our little grandsons’ lives. And you expected us to say yes to your invitation? Did you really think we’d sit all nice and tidy after dinner drinking tea with a witch?’
Alice had no more to say. She turned on her heel and marched out of the shop. Dashing tears from her cheeks, she walked homeward.
‘Alice?’ Callum whispered.
‘And you can piss off,’ she mouthed. Until the eighth of April next year, she needed to keep Muth onside. That was when Callum planned to do the big reveal, after which everything would get back to normal. She wondered about normal. Was normal shy, unassuming Nellie making war on Smithdown Road? Was it Marie having baby lions in the house and a llama in the back garden?
She entered her own house, closed the door and leaned on it. ‘Or is it me with a ghost, Dad’s tobacco smoke, and a husband who suddenly jumped to his feet as if Jesus had told him to take up his bed and walk?’ And Harry, who occupied too much space in her head, especially when she was asleep. ‘Hormones,’ she told the empty house.
It wasn’t empty for long. As soon as the kettle was on, Vera arrived. ‘Did our Neil tell you? I wish I’d gone for me own veg now.’
Frank and Harry arrived.
‘Where’s his tree?’ Alice asked.
‘My garden. It’ll do for firewood when he’s fed up with it.’
Vera was keen to get to the bottom of things, but she couldn’t be heard, because Frank was barking.
‘He says he wants his timber in his own garden,’ Alice said.
‘What happened and why?’ Vera asked when the noise stopped.
Harry took Vera to one side while Alice brewed tea. ‘Don’t ask, love. Look at her face – she’s been crying. Nellie lost her rag with their mother. Leave it.’
So it was an awkward trio sitting at the table drinking tea. ‘Your blouse is on our bed, Vera.’
‘Thanks, love. Harry, you never poisoned them pigeons, did you?’
‘No.’ A heavy silence descended on the kitchen. Harry stood up. ‘I’d better leave you two to get painted and decorated for tonight. I’ve a spare tin of undercoat if you need it.’
‘You cheeky devil,’ Vera said. ‘We’re natural beauties, me and Alice. Aren’t we, love?’
Alice nodded.
‘Course, there’s me wig and me teeth, I suppose.’ Vera grinned and left, picking up her blouse on the way. ‘See yous later,’ was her parting shot.
They were alone. He pulled a chair towards her and sat down again. Folding her in his arms, he licked the evidence of tears from her face before kissing her gently on the mouth. ‘My girl,’ he whispered, ‘my beautiful girl.’
Alice shivered. The cleaning of her face had provided some of the most intimate seconds in her whole life. She wanted more, of something for which she found few words. Dan was a wonderful man, though she was beginning to realize that he lacked something in the imagination department. T
he way Harry looked at her, the words he used in rare moments like this one, his smile, the tiny corner missing from an incisor ever since, as a young boy, he had pinched a bike and crashed. She swallowed.
‘All right?’ he asked.
She wasn’t. She wanted him, and she couldn’t have him, because Dan’s baby was in her belly and . . . and she wouldn’t allow herself to become adulterous. Catholicism was a heavy burden to carry. ‘I wish . . .’
‘You wish what, angel?’
‘That I had no morals. That Moses had never found the ten commandments up that mountain.’
Harry’s smile was rueful. ‘No. I wouldn’t change a thing about you. Even if we’re still waiting in our dotage, there’ll be nobody else for me. I love you just as you are, stubborn, too pretty for words, funny, unpredictable and a good cook. What more could a man ask for in a beloved neighbour?’
She giggled. ‘You only want me for my scouse, right?’
He nodded.
‘The secret is to use lean mince with your stewing steak.’
They both jumped when Callum spoke. ‘Go now, Harry. Back door, quick as you can.’
As the back door closed, the front opened to admit Dan and Peter. Sometimes, though not often, a ghost could be useful, Alice thought. Now she had to tell her husband and Olga’s about Nellie and Muth.
A clatter in the rear garden announced the arrival of Frank’s dead piece of tree; Harry must have heaved it over the wall. Alice opened the kitchen door, allowing the dog to be reunited with the current object of his affections. No doubt he would reduce the fallen limb to sawdust, which would probably be spread the length and breadth of her beautifully kept home.
Dan and Peter entered the kitchen, and she began to tell the tale all over again. ‘With the mood our Nellie’s in, she might not be at the reception tonight, Peter, and I don’t think Martin would come without her.’
Sawdust, Harry and Nellie had made for a very odd day, but Alice would cope. When it came to coping, women had precious little choice . . .
‘They’ve only known one another for five minutes,’ a surprised Peter told his wife when he returned from his outing with Dan. ‘Vera and Yuri? Never in this world.’
Daughters of Penny Lane Page 26
