by Joan Jonker
There were fewer people on the road now, and Cynthia, afraid of one of them turning, moved in closer to the wall. They wouldn’t recognise her as the well made-up, fashionable girl they knew, but if they noticed a lone woman walking behind them for too long, they just might get curious. They’d covered some distance by now, and Cynthia’s toes were so sore every step was an effort. It was sheer willpower that kept her going. Then the two men were no longer in front of her, and she hurried to the spot where she’d lost them to find it was a corner pub. That meant she’d have at least half an hour’s wait, but even though her nose and eyes were running with the cold, she told herself she couldn’t give up now, not after coming so far. So she looked for a safe place to hide, one where she’d be sheltered from the wind. There was a block of shops opposite and she quickly made up her mind that in the shelter of one of the doorways she’d be out of the wind and have a good vantage point.
When Larry and Jeff came out of the pub they were closely followed by a woman. They were all laughing as the woman linked their arms and the trio set off, not in the direction the men had come from, but towards Liverpool centre. Cynthia’s instincts told her that if the men ran true to form, they wouldn’t be walking very far. As she waited for them to cover a safe distance, she made a mental note of the woman’s appearance. Probably about twenty years of age, slim figure, reddish hair, and dressed in a dark green swagger coat. This information would be written down when she got home, under the details of the two girls she’d last seen them with. Times, dates and places were also noted.
When she saw them stop at the top of an entry, Cynthia held back. She was thinking how easy it was for Larry and Jeff to pick girls up, when she heard the woman’s raised voice and saw her struggling. Then to her horror, she saw the men pull the same trick they’d pulled on her. She saw them grab the woman’s arms, and just before they were lost to view, Jeff’s hand was muffling her screams. Cynthia couldn’t move, she felt as though she’d been turned to stone. Then memories came flooding back, memories of pain, horror and humiliation. This had the effect of setting her in motion. They’d not get away with putting some other poor woman through what she had suffered. Galvanised into action, Cynthia flew across the road and made for the entry. She didn’t know what she could do, but she couldn’t stand by and do nothing.
‘Oh, thank God,’ Cynthia cried with relief when two men rounded the corner of a side street. ‘Please mister, will yer help? I’ve just seen two men dragging a woman down that entry. She was crying and struggling but they wouldn’t stop. Yer’ve got to help her, please.’
The two men didn’t even stop to think, they moved like greased lightning. And as they ran down the dark entry, one shouted, ‘The bastards, I’ll kill them.’
Cynthia knew if she had any sense she’d make herself scarce, but she couldn’t go, not until she knew what happened. She moved closer to the entry and could hear roars of anger, then Jeff’s voice, shouting, ‘What the hell’s it got to do with you?’
‘I’ll show yer what it’s got to do with me.’ This came from one of the men Cynthia had asked to help. ‘Yer dirty buggers, I’ll flay yer alive.’ There was the sound of scuffling and cries of pain as fists landed on their target. After a minute, the same voice shouted, ‘You make a run for it, love. We’ll sort these two out, they’ll not bother yer again.’
Cynthia flattened herself against the wall as the woman rounded the corner. Her hair and clothes were dishevelled, and her eyes red-rimmed with tears. ‘Are yer all right, love?’ Cynthia stepped from the shadows. ‘I saw what happened and asked those two men to help.’
‘Thank God yer did.’ The woman ran the back of her hand across her eyes. ‘They’re beasts, those two are. If you hadn’t got help for me, I don’t know what they’d have done to me. I honestly thought I was a goner.’
‘D’yer know them?’ Cynthia asked.
‘I’ve never seen them in me life before.’ The woman was shaking like a leaf. ‘They came in the pub I go to, and they seemed nice and friendly. So when they asked me if I’d like to go to another pub they know, I didn’t think anything of it.’
‘I think yer should go on home, love, before they come out.’ Cynthia was thinking that she too should put a distance between them and herself. Heaven alone knew what was going on in the entry, there were still sounds of fighting. ‘Go on, love, take my advice and scarper.’
The woman took a few steps, then turned. ‘I don’t know how to thank you; yer saved me life.’
‘That’s all right, love. I might need help meself some time, yer never know.’ As she watched the woman running as quickly as her high-heeled shoes would allow, Cynthia was glad she’d been able to get help for her before she was put through the nightmare she herself had endured. And she was taking great satisfaction from knowing she’d upset the apple-cart for Larry and Jeff. But what was happening in that dark entry? Were Larry and Jeff getting their just deserts, or were the Good Samaritans being punished for their act of kindness? She couldn’t go home without knowing.
Ten minutes passed, then the two strange men who would forever be heroes in her mind, came out of the entry dusting their hands as though they’d touched something unpleasant. And Cynthia, huddled in the shop doorway opposite, gave a sigh of relief. They didn’t appear to be hurt, in fact just the opposite. She could hear them talking and they seemed in high spirits.
‘That sorted the dirty buggers out.’
‘Aye, they’ll not be going down an entry for a very long time. Serves the sods right.’
‘Let’s hope it’s taught that young woman a lesson. As my old ma used to say, “Never trust a man until yer’ve met his family”.’
Their voices faded as they walked away, and Cynthia was left to consider her position. Nothing would drag her away until she’d seen Larry and Jeff and satisfied herself that they’d been taught a lesson. But after that, what should she do? Go home and put the whole thing out of her mind? Going home would be the sensible thing to do because she was so cold her teeth were chattering. But in the darkness of the doorway, she shook her head. She didn’t want to be sensible; she wanted to accomplish what she’d set out to do. Those two evil devils might have got a hammering tonight, but it would be nothing to the terrible things they’d done to her. Acts so terrible, she’d never tell anyone, not even Laura.
Cynthia felt her body stiffen. A man had emerged from the entry and she could tell by the colour of his hair that it was Larry. Her precious Larry, who was forever telling her he loved her. And she’d been fool enough to believe him. He was doubled up, with one arm across his tummy and the hand of his other arm holding his face. And she could hear his groans from where she stood. A grim smile came to her face. It serves you right, she thought, you dirty, wicked, evil monster. I hope you’re in agony, and that it lasts a hell of a sight longer than mine will.
Thinking she couldn’t be seen, Cynthia had edged herself forward, but when Jeff appeared she stepped back sharply. He too was holding his tummy and his face as he staggered to where his friend was. In the stillness of the night, their voices carried across the road.
‘Where the bleedin’ hell did they come from?’
‘I dunno, but one of them has broke me flaming nose.’ This came from Larry. ‘I’m in agony and I’m covered in blood.’
‘I think my nose is bust, too, I can’t bear to touch it. And I feel as though the bastards have kicked the inside out of me. They wouldn’t have got away with it if they hadn’t taken us by surprise. Someone must have tipped them off.’
‘Grow up, will yer, Jeff? The bitch was making enough noise to wake the neighbourhood. The stupid cow.’ Larry was a very unhappy man. ‘We can’t go home like this, so what shall we do?’
‘We’ve got to go home, there’s nowhere else we can go. Unless we go to the hospital to get seen to. We can say a gang of drunks set about us and we didn’t stand a chance.’ Jeff put a hand to his head and groaned. ‘I don’t know which hurts the most, me nose or me insides.�
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‘I’m not going to no hospital,’ Larry said, ‘I’m going home and getting it over with. I’ll tell Doreen the one about a gang of drunks. She won’t believe me, but she can’t prove otherwise.’
‘I’ll tell Iris the same, and I don’t care whether she believes me or not. The way I feel, she can sod off for all I care. We’ll walk to the tram stop and catch a twenty-two.’
‘Are you crazy? We can’t get on a tram looking like this, we’re both covered in blood!’ When Larry tried to straighten up, he groaned and fell back against the wall. ‘Even if I have to crawl home, I’m not getting on no tram.’
‘Have it yer own way,’ Jeff growled. ‘But we’ll have to take it easy because I feel as though every bone in me body’s been broken.’
Cynthia stepped from the shadows on to the pavement. There went two men who didn’t like getting a dose of their own medicine. And if she had her way, there was a worse fate in store for them.
As she was passing a pub, Cynthia glanced at her watch. She was surprised to see it was only ten to ten. So much had happened she thought it was much later. She’d been trailing Larry and Jeff for miles, crossing from one side of the road to the other, so as not to arouse their suspicions. They’d started out in Scotland Road, and were now halfway along County Road. They certainly didn’t play in their own neck of the woods, that was for sure. It was no wonder they’d never been caught out; they went far afield for their pleasures. They were walking one in front of the other, with their heads turned towards the shops and pubs so they wouldn’t be recognised by passers-by. And it was plain to see they were in great discomfort.
Cynthia pretended to be looking in a shop window when the two men came to a halt. They began talking, looking around furtively as they did so. They must be nearly home, she thought, and were getting their story ready to tell. Her excitement mounted at the thought of being so near her goal. And when the men turned the corner of the next street, her footsteps quickened. It was crucial she didn’t lose sight of them at this point. Pretending to be arranging her scarf, she stood at the corner of the street and saw Larry mount the step of a house about five dwellings down, while Jeff crossed to a house opposite. Keeping her eyes fixed on the spot, Cynthia took a chance and began to walk slowly towards it, giving Larry time to let himself in. She appeared to be looking straight ahead, but her eyes swiveled towards the front door and noted the brass plate with the number fifteen outlined in black. Then she calmly turned and walked to the main road, to catch a tram that would take her home.
Jenny opened the door with the key her mother kept in case Lizzie ever took bad and they needed to gain entrance. ‘You stay here,’ she said to Janet and the two boys, ‘while I tell Auntie Lizzie she’s got the four of us again.’
However, Lizzie had sharp ears. ‘Don’t leave them standing in the cold, let them come in. I knew yer were all coming, ’cos yer mam told me.’ Her eyes were bright with pleasure when the four of them trooped in, one after the other. ‘I’ve been sitting here waiting for yer.’
Each of them gave her a kiss before making for the fireplace. ‘It’s not half cold out, Auntie Lizzie,’ Mick said, rubbing his hands together in front of the fire. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if we had snow.’
‘Ooh, I hope so.’ Jenny’s cheeks were a rosy red, matching the beret she was wearing at a saucy angle on top of her long blonde hair. ‘It would be lovely to wake up on Christmas morning and see everywhere white.’
‘Yeah, like last Christmas,’ John said. ‘It was the gear.’
‘It’s very pretty to look at through the window, son, but not very nice if yer have to walk far in it.’
Mick, warmed through now, moved away from the fire and pulled out a chair. ‘If there’s snow on the ground on Christmas Day, Auntie Lizzie, I’ll give yer a piggy-back over to the Nightingales’.’
John wasn’t to be left out. ‘And I’ll give yer one back. Even if it’s not snowing I’ll carry yer, just in case yer have too many bottles of stout and yer get a bit tipsy.’
‘The day has yet to come when Lizzie Marshall gets tipsy, son.’ The old lady giggled at the thought. ‘But it’s a very kind offer and I’ll bear it in mind.’
Mick pouted his lips. ‘Wasn’t my offer as kind as his?’
‘Of course it was, son. Ye’re two very kind lads.’
Jenny tutted as she placed her mother’s basket on the table. ‘Don’t start that lark. We came here to make decorations, remember?’
‘I was only putting the record straight.’ Mick winked at Lizzie. ‘It doesn’t take much for Jenny to get on her high horse, does it? Best thing to do is humour her, that’s what I’ve found.’
‘And I’ve found the best way to deal with you and John is to ignore yer.’ Jenny delved in the basket and brought out some packets of crêpe paper. ‘We bought a packet each, Auntie Lizzie, so there’s two red and two green. We’re going to cut them into strips and make paper chains to go around the picture rail.’ Once again her hand went into the basket. ‘Me mam mixed some flour and water for us to stick them together with, and she put it in this basin so we can all reach it to dip our fingers in.’
Janet pulled a face. ‘I don’t fancy putting me fingers in that. Haven’t yer got any brushes we can use?’
‘No, we haven’t, so it’s no good yer pulling faces. We used to make them in school and I never heard yer moaning to Miss Harrison about getting yer fingers sticky. If yer had, it would have been three strokes of the cane.’
‘I’m not pulling faces, Miss Nightingale, and I don’t mind getting me fingers sticky at all.’ Even Jenny had to laugh at the look of innocence on John’s face as he held his hands out, palms upward. ‘I’ll do anything yer say, Miss, but I don’t want no cane.’
Mick guffawed. ‘He used to do that in school. Proper crawler, he was.’
John glared. ‘How do you know? Yer weren’t in my class.’
‘Well, I just happened to be passing your classroom one afternoon and I saw yer on yer knees in front of the teacher’s desk, begging for mercy. I remember thinking what a pathetic little creep yer were.’
‘Isn’t it funny how things come back to yer?’ John’s face was one big grin. ‘I remember that afternoon, I saw yer go past. One of the lads told me afterwards that yer’d been to the headmaster’s office for six strokes of the cane. If my memory serves me right, it was for giving cheek to Mr Johnston.’
‘No, no, yer’ve got it all wrong,’ Mick said. ‘I didn’t get the cane for giving Mr Johnston cheek, I got it for tripping him up.’
While the others roared with laughter, Janet’s face was serious. ‘Did yer trip Mr Johnston up on purpose?’
The laughter increased with her words, until Jenny called a halt. ‘Auntie Lizzie wants these decorations for this Christmas, not next.’
‘Your word is our command, Jenny,’ Mick said. ‘Just tell me and John what to do and we’ll start.’
‘Yer cut the paper in two-inch strips, first. Then yer cut those strips into four inch ones. We’ve only got two pairs of scissors between us, so I’ll cut a couple of strips first and me and Jan can start making the chains.’
Lizzie sat back watching, her cheeks stiff with laughing so much. It was like something out of a comedy picture. The two boys were hilarious, they talked incessantly.
‘That’s not two inches, mate,’ John said. ‘More like three.’
‘That is dead on two inches, pal,’ Mick answered. ‘Why didn’t yer bring yer flaming specs with yer? If yer had, yer’d know that those strips you’re cutting are nowhere near four inches.’
Lizzie’s eyes went to the girls. Jenny was quick and efficient. All the time she was geeing the boys up if they kept her waiting. Janet, on the other hand, was taking the job very seriously. With her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth, she weighed each piece of paper up carefully before linking it through the last piece. And the look of distaste on her face when she stuck her finger in the basin was a picture no artist could paint.
‘Have yer brought the drawing pins, Mick?’ Jenny asked as she eyed the long paper chain she was working on. ‘I think this strip will do one of the walls.’
‘Now, would I let yer down?’ Mick brought a box out of his pocket. Then, with a look of pretend concern on his handsome face, he passed them over the table and said, ‘Yer’ll have to be careful, Jenny, it’s very high.’
‘I’m not putting it up, yer daft nit!’ Jenny’s voice was indignant. ‘That’s your job, or John’s.’
The expression that came to John’s face was pure bliss. ‘I’ll do it for yer, Jenny. As long as you hold the chair and catch me if I fall off.’
Mick pushed his friend down in his chair. ‘This is a private conversation, pal, so keep yer nose out before I put it out of joint.’
‘I think I’m an inch taller than you, mate, and that inch might make all the difference.’
‘Are you heck! Anyway, I can always stand on me toes.’
Janet studied them both before coming out with one of her gems. ‘Isn’t it funny, I’ve never noticed yer were an inch taller, John. Yer both look the same height to me. Stand back-to-back and let’s see.’
Jenny banged a fist on the table. ‘Don’t you dare! Don’t you flamingwell dare! Ye’re both so big-headed it’s a wonder yer can get through the door. I bet as soon as yer get home yer’ll have a tape-measure out. And I bet ye’re vain enough to stand in front of a mirror while yer measure yerself. But yer came here to do a job, and if yer don’t want to do it, then yer can both scram. Me and Janet will make the chains on our own, and I’ll ask Bill if he’ll put them up for us tomorrow night.’
