“If that’s OK I’d like to stay, and then I’ll get moving as soon as the all clear sounds.”
Andrew left the room and came back with some pillows and blankets.
“The box room is through there, next to the bathroom.”
He picked up the whisky bottle to examine it and then poured more into the two glasses,
“Might as well finish this one off.”
Then he produced another bottle from the drink’s cabinet.
“I’ll get some food. Bread, cheese and pickles, is that o.k. for you?”
“Excellent, thanks. I must admit to feeling a bit hungry now.”
“Help yourself to more drink if you want.”
Andrew left the room and prepared the food. Harry poured another whisky and scanned a local newspaper without really absorbing anything he read.
Andrew returned with one plate.
“You not eating?”
“No, too much excitement for one evening, I might try some later but you carry on.”
After the food was consumed they continued talking for about an hour on subjects ranging from the lack of British pre-war rearmament, the raid that was still continuing in the distance and the latest film releases. After a long pause Andrew yawned loudly,
“I’m sorry Harry but it’s time for my bed I think; it’s been an eventful day. You’ll find towels in the press cupboard in the bathroom. Would you switch the lights off as you go through? - Give me a shout if I’m not awake when you’re ready to go and I’ll help you look for that ring of yours. I’ll see you later.”
“Yes, OK, and thanks again Andrew.”
Harry felt utterly at ease as he scanned the room again. This is the kind of place I’d like one day, he thought. There were two settees, one facing the fire and the other at ninety degrees to it. A walnut dining table and six chairs were positioned by one of the windows, together with a matching drinks cabinet and radiogram. An old, highly polished partners’ desk was arranged at an angle by the second window together with various cupboards and side tables with ornate lamps stationed around the walls. The whole effect was completed by a display of mirrors, book cases, pictures and heavy curtaining.
“One day Harry boy, one day you’ll have a place like this,”
he thought. He poured another drink and decided to find the box room. As he left he turned all of the room lights out as instructed. He paused and switched them on and off again and smiled.
“Bloody marvellous!” He whispered to himself.
Harry went to his room and peered through the curtains. It was now raining heavily and far away he could still see flashes lighting the horizon as bombs and incendiaries continued falling. The white fingers of three, sometimes four, searchlights arched across the distant dark, cloudy sky. After taking off his shirt and trousers he made a comfy nest with the blankets and pillows and downed the last of his drink and settled into a deep spirit induced sleep.
He didn’t hear the ‘All Clear’ sounding but later in the night he awoke and lay there drifting slowly back into consciousness. He became aware of something, a soft noise in the room. Breathing perhaps, or was it the rain and the wind rattling on the windows? He didn’t move, his mind became more focused as he remembered the events of the evening before and where he was. He turned over abruptly to see a shadow of something - now someone - in front of him.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
He shouted in the darkness.
“I’m sorry Harry, it’s me Andrew. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Harry turned the table lamp on to see Andrew, naked except for a blanket wrapped around him, sitting on a chair directly in front of him. Andrew tried to shield the light from his eyes,
“I’m sorry - ” he said rather pathetically,
“ - I seem to have been caught out.”
Harry sat up,
“What are you doing here like this?”
Andrew began his apologies again, but Harry interrupted him.
“I get it now. Jesus what a fool I’ve been. I know your story, all these kind invitations to help me out, the drinks, and the food. You’re nothing but a…”
He stopped, a long pause followed.
“Say it Harry, go on say it!”
Harry couldn’t speak, he was angry at the situation he had allowed himself to be drawn into.
“I should never have stayed.”
“No, that’s not true and you know it, I didn’t entice you at all. It was just the circumstances of the evening brought you here. Besides nothing has happened.”
“Nothing has happened! - listen mate I don’t usually give myself up to be viewed at close quarters by some…”
“Say it Harry, say it, go on, ‘some nance, some ponce, whatever!”
Harry couldn’t make eye contact with Andrew; now he felt embarrassed. Perhaps he had overreacted somewhat?
Andrew continued, speaking quietly,
“I’ll admit to you …yes…I am - but it never entered my head to try anything with you I promise. I woke up and came in to see if you had gone or whether you wanted to look for the ring you lost. It’s just getting light now. The all clear has sounded.”
“Go on.”
“I came into the room but felt dizzy, the drink, the fight or something. I didn’t eat properly yesterday so I sat down here. I thought you would have heard me come in. I’ve not been here for long. Again, I’m sorry if you’ve taken offence.”
Harry’s face showed that he was angry but he said nothing. Andrew continued,
“It’s probably best you go now, my life is complicated enough without all this. I really did just come in to help you, that’s all.” Andrew stood up and left the room.
Harry quickly dressed and checked his pockets again. He picked up his coat and went to the apartment door. Andrew was waiting there in his dressing gown, he opened the door for Harry.
“Look.”
He said,
“If you can detach yourself from what occurred just now my offer of a possible job could be yours, here’s my phone number.”
“We’ll see.”
Harry stuffed the card in his pocket and walked quickly down the stairs and out into the street.
Andrew called after him,
“What about the ring can I help you search for it?”
Harry didn’t hear him.
The heavy rain had stopped; Harry lit a cigarette and retraced his steps to where the attack on Andrew had occurred. A few of the small shops had opened and the owners were busy carrying produce outside to display. Only a handful of people were walking by and all were wrapped up against the icy wind now gusting from the east. He searched for some time without finding the ring, as Andrew watched him, unseen, from the window of his apartment above.
“Bugger it!”
Harry said under his breath.
A half empty double decker bus squelched by, its tyres noisily slapping over the cobbles as it travelled towards the centre of town. Harry decided to return to his digs; the ring was gone: he had to accept that, but his mood became increasingly gloomy as he was forced to negotiate an alternative route home because of an unexploded bomb. Eventually he turned into his road from the far end and peered down towards the house only to discover that an incendiary bomb had burst through the tiles and destroyed much of the roof of the property. Two nearby houses had also suffered a similar fate,
“This is turning out to be one fucker of a day!”
He negotiated his way through the rubble and broken glass strewn across the road and passed by a group of men who were sawing up a tree that had been blown over.
“Harry, thank God you’re alright, we weren’t sure whether you were in the house or not?”
His landlady, a slight thin woman with greying hair, was standing by the gate. She was holdin
g onto a rope attached to the collar of a timid black mongrel that the rescue team had found abandoned. Before Harry had an opportunity to reply their attention was diverted by a Fireman emerging from the rubble.
“It’s safe to go in and collect things but we need to tarpaulin the roof before you can stay. We’ll get one of the council teams to get on to it later this afternoon. Then, when it’s dried out in a few days you should be able to move back in again.”
“That’s a relief to know, thank you.”
She turned to Harry.
“You see, I knew that Georgie, my other lodger, was away working nights and as I was staying at my sister’s house last night we had to make sure that you weren’t inside. Oh thank God you’re OK.”
Harry had calmed down now,
“I’m sorry if I caused you any distress, but there was no way I could let you know what I was doing; because of the raid I had to alter my plans.”
As the Firemen cleared away their equipment the senior officer came back to talk with the landlady,
“Right, we’re off now. The street wardens are fully aware of your situation and they’ll keep an eye out for looters whilst you’re away. You know what the procedure is don’t you?”
“Yes, I’ll be OK. thank you for all your help.”
She turned to Harry,
“I’ve got to go down to the Council to register the loss of the property and damage. But where will you go tonight? I might be able to find an address for you when I’m down there?”
“No it’s alright thanks, I’ll find somewhere else, don’t worry about me.”
Harry went inside and salvaged a few of his belongings that he stuffed into an old suitcase. When he came out he went across to his landlady, who was talking to her neighbour,
“Well that’s everything I need. I’ll be on my way now.”
Harry bent down to stroke the dog that was now shivering. The animal initially tried to hide but quickly became appreciative of the attention on offer.
The landlady looked down at him,
“He’s bewildered, poor thing.”
“Like all of us.”
Harry said.
The two talked for a few more minutes before he left to walk to a local café. ‘Poor sod’ he thought, ‘I’ve only stayed there a week, I’ve lost a few clothes but she’s almost lost her entire home.’
He ordered some tea and toast and sat down at the only vacant table by a window that was misted with condensation. A wireless fixed to a bracket high on the wall behind the counter was providing some cheery background music.
His mood had now changed from the pronounced blackness of earlier. He began tapping his fingers to the rhythm.
‘My ol’ man said follow the van
and don’t dilly dally on the way,
off went the van with my ‘ome packed in it
and I followed on with my old cock linnet…’
“Dilly,” Harry repeated to himself, “Dilly!”
No one had heard him.
Dilly would surely know what to do he thought?’
The song had brought back a childhood memory, about his imaginary friend called Dilly.
He couldn’t remember how or why he had named her and he couldn’t recall when he had last thought about her.
‘It must be over twenty years’ he thought.
He was about six, maybe seven when he first chanced upon her. It was during a difficult time at home, his father had left his mother and she had to somehow cope in bringing up his younger brother David and him. Divorce, which was rarer then, was made more burdensome because they were a Catholic family. But his mother did manage to get by. She established a small kindergarten in the house during the mornings, as well as running an afternoon taxi service with her small car. Harry smiled to himself upon remembering the small St Christopher statue that his mother had stuck to the dashboard.
‘Great innocent memories’ he thought.
And now here he was, much older, with a decision to make.
‘Dilly’ would know what to do he thought and smiled again. Whilst waiting for his food, he reviewed the options now available to him. The separate events of the last evening had now forced him to re-evaluate his situation. Could he carry on with some minor black market activities? He had had some success after all. Should he return to his brother and sister-in-law in London? They would know he had stolen the ring, so perhaps it wouldn’t be appropriate to return; especially now that he had lost it!
Should he travel to Ireland? There was no conscription in the north, so he could blend in and find some work there perhaps? Or he could make his way south to the Free State; that was another consideration. Or should he simply go back to Andrew to find out what job he was offering?
By the time his food had arrived he had already tossed a coin in his mind and whilst it was spinning in the air he already knew which way he wanted it to land!
Chapter 2
“Do you dress to the right usually sir?”
“As is.”
Harry said becoming more irritated with the tailor who was double checking his measurements.
“Inside leg thirty…two inches…yes. Remember we can’t offer turn ups now, you know shortages and…”
“Yes, I understand, how much longer will you be?”
“Finished now Mr Davies. Now let’s quickly recheck the original …” He called across to his assistant.
“George, bring the pad over. Let’s do a resume.”
The tailor continued,
“Yes… here we are…height just below six foot, forty four chest, thirty six waist and thirty two inside leg. Now sleeve and button detail…yes I have those already, that’s it then sir, we’re all finished.”
Harry put his own jacket back on, retrieved his mac and threw it over one shoulder whilst reaching for his wallet.
“It’s OK, Mr Davies, the deposit has been paid by Mr Kirkland; he’s a regular customer here. I don’t suppose you’ve any clothing coupons though?”
The tailor looked up at Harry’s face that remained stony and unsmiling.
“Thought not, well we’ll just do the usual arrangement.
“What are the usual arrangements?”
Harry asked still feeling ill-humoured.
“Well Andrew…Mr Kirkland…will pay cash and we just keep things quiet between us. I won’t put any labels in the suit so it can’t be traced back here. We just keep things on a friendly basis and barter a bit if we can. Mr Kirkland said I could explain this to you.”
“Oh did he?”
“Now what about a hat, a nice trilby…over here look, they’re still very much in fashion?” The tailor smiled eagerly.
“No thanks, I don’t wear hats.”
The tailor’s optimism weakened; he contemplated offering Harry a different style but quickly thought better of it.
“Yes well, thank you for your custom, we’ll have everything ready for you in about two weeks. I’ll telephone Mr Kirkland.”
Harry put his mac on, said his farewells and left the building, grateful to breathe fresh air again and to get away from the intense scrutiny of the tailor and his assistant.
‘Haircut next.’
Harry thought to himself.
His hair was longer than was usual at the time; he decided to have it cut shorter so as to blend in with the ubiquitous military styles. He walked away from the narrow back streets and made his way towards the centre of the city. On route he came across a small barber’s shop and within twenty minutes his full dark curly hair was shorn away. He emerged with a fixed brilliantined lustre that he immediately tussled up to resemble something of his previous style.
‘Now back to base.’ He thought.
He decided to walk back to Andrew’s flat. The sky was clear blue and bright, the low wintry sun illuminating the build
ings in a burnished gold light. For the first time in several weeks of uncertainty he felt relaxed and at ease. He had a job on offer, cash in his wallet and new clothes on order.
“Things are on the up.” He thought.
However, his mood shifted abruptly as he passed by some recently bombed out shops and houses. The adjacent cinema had also received a direct hit. He stopped under its canopy and recalled the pre-war excitement of a trip to the pictures with a girlfriend; the carpet of light shining over the wet pavements outside; the smell and the warmth of the foyer; people mingling around looking forward to the prospect of a night out, sitting in luxurious surroundings.
“Magical palaces.” He thought as he walked on, trying to recall in his mind some of his favourite films he had seen before the war.
Harry used the key that Andrew had loaned him and entered his flat. As he climbed the stairs he could hear classical music drifting down from above. He found Andrew sprawled out on one of the settees listening to gramophone records and reading the newspapers. Andrew looked up,
“Well look at you!” He said inspecting the new hairstyle.
“That’s enough of that, the sooner I get my own place the better.”
“You’ve only been here three days.”
Harry ignored the remark.
“We need to talk Andrew; I want to know a bit more about this job you’re offering.”
Andrew stretched his arms and yawned,
“I’ll tell you what, let me get dressed then we can go down the club for a chat. It’ll be easier there, less formal than sitting face to face here.”
“As long as this ‘club’ is not one of your usual haunts!”
“That’s a deal, I suppose. I’ll get dressed. Help yourself to a drink if you want.”
Andrew walked across the room and switched the gramophone off. He emerged from the bedroom ten minutes later dressed in slacks and blazer, white shirt and blue spotted tie.
“We’re only going to a pub aren’t we?”
Andrew pretended not to have heard the comment as he put on the shabby overcoat, his ‘disguise’ to blend in with the neighbourhood. As they walked to the ‘Royal Stuart Club’ about a mile away Harry began questioning Andrew.
Shadows of Deceit Page 2
