by PR Hilton
"Yes, you can walk me home after, but remember the hat business and behave yourself."
Harry Royle put his brown trilby against his chest and gave a deep bow. Turning on his heel, he walked in through the open door beyond. Having had his ticket checked, he stood for a moment, once inside the door he allowed his eyes to grow accustomed to the dim light. The bright projector lamp flickered and caught the plumes of cigarette smoke, which curled upwards in wreaths. Harry lit up a Woodbine and scanned the inside of the room. All looked very normal, just people out for a good night, mostly couples, not all young, a good amount of older men and women sitting drinking tea and smoking and odd single people dotted here and there.
Choosing a middle aisle seat he walked across and sat down, just as Pathe news started up loudly on the screen. Then it was all about Robin Hood who promised to be coming soon, but not played by an Englishman, no, the essential English hero of the people was to be portrayed by Captain Blood himself Errol Flynn. Royle rolled his eyes in the darkness and made a promise to avoid that little gem when it came out. Then came the cartoon, which he found very funny and he hoped that like Porky, he too might get the girl and a little romance for a change.
At lights up, before the main feature, he made a point of walking over to the cigarette girl and buying another packet of Woodbines and a box of matches. Taking a little too long to hand her the money, he felt her slim white gloved fingers give his own a slight squeeze and they both exchanged smiles, before parting.
As promised the film was good, not Royle considered in the same league as Thirty-Nine Steps, but good all the same. He waited back for as long as he could and then turning up his collar against the night air, he exited the Regal. Outside he lit yet another cigarette and leaned back against the wall. He was onto his third cigarette when a man's voice disturbed his quiet smoking.
"And what might you be doing?"
A lamp shone in his face and below it, he could make out the uniform sleeve. Looking up at the owner, he could clearly see the police officer's unmistakable helmet. Harry Royle froze in the lamplight, his fingers hesitated above the heavy coat pocket. He decided to bluff it out, this was real life, not the pictures and besides which, he was no Jimmy Cagney, more like Robert Donat, who was a gentleman and would talk his way out.
Handcuffed and on the run, was all Harry could now see, Donat in the 39 Steps.
"Remove your hat, please Sir?"
"Hey love you in trouble for flashing those legs again?"
Both men looked around at the smiling woman in the dark green coat. It was the cigarette, girl. Without another word, she brushed past the officer and kissed Harry full on the lips. She then turned and addressed the policeman directly.
"Honestly officer I can't leave this young man of mine alone for ten minutes without him getting in trouble. The last time it was impersonating a film star, what's this charge?"
The police officer grinned and took a step back. Harry realised the play and moved in.
"You've got me constable, honest I'll come quietly."
With this, he held out both hands ready for handcuffs, in pantomime fashion. The officer waved him away.
"Miss I trust you can vouch for his good character, so I'll leave him to you. Take him home he looks cold."
"Will do constable, I always obey the law."
Harry offered the woman his elbow and she linked his arm. He felt her warmth as she leaned in close. The policeman's noisy footfalls fell away as the couple picked up the pace.
"Susan, by the way, and you are?"
Royle smiled.
"Harry, pleased to meet you. About that kiss?"
She looked at the pavement and he could sense her blush.
"Oh, that. Coppers, you know, they're always annoying folk and I didn't really think, I was just hoping he wasn't going to ask me your name, otherwise what would he have thought? Honestly."
With this they both laughed. They walked and talked for more than half an hour, and Harry was lost in more ways than one when they came to the end of the journey. At the door, Harry kissed Susan goodnight and took the offered telephone number, but held back from being pushy. She was a nice girl and he didn't want to overstep the mark. The faded brown door closed behind her.
Harry turned on his heel and then remembered that he didn't know where he was and didn't even know in which direction the Regal was in. He still had some money and if he could walk through to the main road, he would be able to hail a taxi. He pushed his hands into his coat pockets and suddenly felt the cold steel of the gun. Despite the cool air, he felt warm, too warm, as a hot flush rushed through his body. He knew that the woman's quick thinking had saved him earlier in the evening from yet another copper, but his luck was sure to run out if he kept walking around like an idiot. He had to learn the city and fast.
Having managed to get home without further problems. He slept on and off throughout the night that followed. The next morning Harry washed and dressed quickly. Leaving the house, he headed for Princess Road and the shops.
Later that morning found him eating a good breakfast at Barney's Cafe and enjoying his newly bought treasure, a Kelly's map of Manchester. Royle smiled at Barney, as the man brought a mug of tea.
"You lost then?"
Barney let out a laugh loud enough to send a pair of pigeons near the doorway skyward. Unlike the wildlife, the locals ignored the loud man with the grubby apron. Harry shook his head and looked down at the map sheepishly. He decided that in this instance, honesty might just be the best policy.
"Sick of getting bloody lost, to tell you the truth."
The man roared again, and slapping his hand down on the table, set off back to the counter and his other customers. Harry had just got back to his map, when Welsh Eric appeared, for his usual morning meal.
"Hello stranger, beat me to it have you? Over here Barney, if you please? What have we here then? Wish you'd told me you needed a map, got a couple at my digs, could have had them for free. Know the place well now, but at first I was always ending up down a wrong alley and for a driver that's bad see."
Harry smiled a good morning and began folding the large paper sheet. As he started, Eric put a hand on it.
"Don't put it away just yet, might as well show you something first."
Leaning over the map, Eric ran his finger across it, tracing a slow arc, until he stopped and looking up at Royle, indicated an area on the printed surface.
"There's an ironworks right here, see? Not far from the park there. We'll be looking to get some work at the place one day very soon. Study the map and make sure you go out there a few times, you know, really get used to the area."
Harry looked up at the man, who continued.
"Don't worry about transport, got orders to give you this boy. It's not the best car, but it'll get you there and back."
Eric passed a set of car keys folded in a pound note across to Royle, who pocketed them without a word. Eric leaned back in his seat and gestured to Harry to move the map, as Barney slammed his breakfast down. He quickly folded the map and took a swig of his tea. When Barney had left their side, Eric explained that the car was parked outside the house in Denmark Road and was now Harry's. Breakfast passed with reasonable food and decent company. Harry found that he liked Eric, it was Pete he was unsure about. After the meal, Eric went to find a phone box to check if William Hill had received his cheque, leaving Royle to walk back to Denmark Road.
The short walk home gave him the opportunity to turn recent events over in his mind. The more he thought about things, the less happy he felt. Pete was at the centre of the uneasy feeling clawing at Harry's now full stomach. What kind of man gives out money, guns and cars to strangers? Still Harry was on the run and Pete knew it, he also seemed very pleased to have someone onboard with Harry's training. So maybe the man simply wanted to make certain Royle didn't drift away. The car was a nice surprise. Harry had half expected an old banger, but it was a decent little runner. He decided to take it out and see ho
w it ran.
Sitting behind the wheel, he spread out the map and worked out a very basic route to the ironworks, then set off. The black Austin Ruby coughed into action and obeyed the commands he gave it well enough. The car stepped up to 30mph with ease. This could get up to 40, no problem, he thought. Not knowing a place was annoying and he found himself taking a few wrong turns, pulling over and having to check the map, but he got there in the end. Driving along Lightbowne Road with Monsall Hospital on his left, Harry turned onto Hilda Street and pulled in. The ironworks were just across the way and Royle had a very good view. After a few minutes, he pulled the car out and drove slowly around the block. He eased the small black car down Ethel Street and back onto Lightbowne.
He wanted to try a few routes but thought better of it. He didn't want the locals twitching their net curtains too much. Harry was an experienced driver but decided to avoid the city centre, as he didn't have any papers for the car, or even a driving license he could produce. He took a left onto Thorpe Road and then another right, which brought him to Oldham Road. Driving along Royle found himself moving too close to the city centre. Quickly pulling over, Harry got out of the vehicle and locking it, headed for somewhere to get a hot drink, to get rid of the greasy taste of the breakfast. He had just spotted a decent looking cafe when, passing a call box gave him an idea.
Remembering the goodnight kiss and the phone number which had been pushed into his eager hand the night before. On the second ring, the receiver was lifted. It was an older woman who answered, her mother, Harry imagined. He asked for Susan, a long pause and then a bright, cheerful voice came on the line. Thanks to the newfound knowledge of the map, the he was able to tell her where he was and invite her to meet him. Once a meeting was arranged, Harry walked to the cafe he'd seen and ordered himself a pot of tea. He knew that coming by bus would take her a good 40 minutes or so.
The tea was certainly an improvement on Barney's. Harry looked around at the other diners, There were the odd working men and one or two old folks, but most were those out for a quick bite to eat or a cup of tea. Many had shopping bags and baskets, no doubt halfway through shopping and desperately in need of respite. Looking at them made him wish his life was as normal as theirs. Draining his cup, Royle paid the waitress and left the cafe. Looking up and down the road and seeing no sign of Susan, he thought he'd wait in the car. He decided against opening up the map, as it might bring unwanted curiosity from well-meaning constables and he'd had enough of their attention lately. Harry had been smoking and looking at the ash, as it accumulated on the tip, before flicking his wrist and sending it drifting toward the curb below. He'd been doing this for several minutes when he glanced up and noticed the green coat from the night before standing beside the telephone box.
Dropping the cigarette, he opened the car door and hurried over to join the waiting woman. She saw his approach and flashed a warm smile at him. They kissed their hello and then Royle showed Susan Brown the car. She was suitably impressed and suggested a drive. Harry quickly explained that he had only recently learned to drive and that he was more than a little nervous driving in the city. Royle disliked the fact that telling the lie seem to come all too easy for him. He had always had a very low regard for criminals. In such a short time, his view had turned on a sixpence.
As he smiled at the pretty woman in the green coat, he realised that had things been different, he would have been an officer on leave meeting his sweetheart, not a desperate man on the run. Smiling in return, the woman asked if she might drive instead.
"You drive?"
She grinned.
"Not only do I drive my dear Harold."
Royle winced at hearing his Sunday name used, as she continued.
"Having been taught by my dad three years ago, I drive very well. Just can't afford a car yet. I passed my competence test just after they came in and have my licence here in my bag, I'll show you."
She reached inside her dark brown handbag but felt a gentle restraining hand upon her own.
"I believe you and yes that would be lovely."
They swapped positions and she eased the black car away from the curb. The drive was easy and surprisingly relaxing for Harry. She was a very good driver and had in fact impressed him. The conversation had touched on various subjects and for the most had centred on women drivers at Brooklands, a subject dear to Susan's heart. As they drove through Moss Side, she had asked Harry whereabouts he lived. Without thinking Royle began to reply, and then had second thoughts about the suitability of the run down house where his flat was. He had instead lied once again. He had indicated a very nice property on Moss Lane East as home but had explained that his landlady was having the carpets cleaned and so he couldn't go in until evening. Susan Brown had brushed her nose with the tip of a finger and exclaimed how grand it must be to have one's carpets cleaned, in a mock comic voice. They had both laughed and decided instead to find somewhere to eat.
Susan noticed the cafe where Harry had eaten breakfast that morning, but he put her off it quickly, by telling her rats had been seen nearby. She had shrugged her shoulders and suggested maybe somewhere a little more sanitary. In the end, they had settled on a Lyons house close to where Susan lived. After eating and a stroll to walk off the food, they had parted and Harry had driven home. He spent the rest of the day going over the map. Over and over he checked all the possible routes to and from the ironworks. He also attempted to get to know the city centre in case of needing to drive through it.
This took him hours and he only stopped when he found his head beginning to nod. Putting the maps away, his thoughts turned to Susan and he found himself smiling about the car ride and the meal. He had to admit, she was good to talk to and easy on the eye. Laying back on the bed he wondered what the future might hold for him and if she might just be a part of it.
Chapter 4
The next day was like any other, consisting of breakfast at Barney's with Eric, followed by a walk around the local shops. Royle didn't have the heart to go far, knowing that something big was coming and not wanting to be too far from the flat. He helped Edna change a lightbulb, and she rewarded him with a glass of sweet sherry for his trouble. He disliked the drink but didn't like to refuse. The rest of the day passed slowly. He read the paper and listened to the radio.
That evening was quiet, and he decided to stay in and spend another evening with his map. He had bought two bottles of brown ale and had kicked off his shoes relaxing in the battered armchair, in his small furniture crowded room. A cigarette was held loosely between his fingers as his hands held the map. On the bed, not three feet away was spread an identical copy of the map, but this one had various routes marked on it and a large pencil circle surrounding the ironworks.
It was after eleven when the knock came. The house had gone to bed earlier, and the silence had played on his nerves a little. He had taken the gun out from beneath its mattress hiding place and had placed it on the chair beside his right thigh, beneath the map. Reaching out, he drank the ale straight from the bottle. He was just lighting a Woodbine when the knock came. It was not loud, yet seemed deafening in the silence.
Snatching up the gun, he pushed himself into the corner behind the door. He found his voice, which seemed a pitch higher than normal.
"Who is it?"
The door was pushed open, and four men crowded into the tiny room. They came in fast, but Harry was already behind them and stood with the gun held level at chest height. With a soft kick, he sent the door back to its closed position. He found his voice again but made sure to keep it lower this time.
"Can I help you, gentlemen?"
They turned as one and seeing the gun, raised their hands quickly. Royle now recognised three of them, Pete, Eric and the third man he had met in the pub, Dave. The fourth man was a stranger. Pete with hands still held at shoulder level looked at Harry and took a slow step forward.
"Sorry Harry, we didn't want to be seen lurking on your stairs, didn't mean to startle you."
<
br /> The room's tension eased a degree. The men slowly lowered their hands and Harry lowered the gun. Pete turned swiftly on his heel and addressed the others, and in particular, the stranger.
"See what did I tell you? Impressive, or what?"
The tall stranger in the good quality suit took a step forward and offered Royle, his hand. The two men shook hands and Pete introduced Harry to Mr Green. Harry wasn't impressed with the obvious use of a false name but gave no indication of his feelings on the matter. Pete explained that Mr Green was the money behind the ironworks venture and that he had wanted to see where his hard earned was being spent. Green seemed suitably impressed, and the men spoke for an hour or so, their voices never rising above a murmur. Eric remained standing at the door with his ear pressed against it the whole time Pete explained the plan.
Tomorrow would see the ironworks robbed of its Thursday wages. Green made a point of telling the group that they would have to remember that every single worker at the place would want their pay and so would try anything to stop the men in their tracks if given half a chance. That was why Harry had been brought in, a man used to carrying a weapon, used to giving, as well as obeying orders, and who would see a mission through.
Mr Green explained that he wanted Royle not just to be the wheel man, but also to take the money. He said that the others would act as fend offs, like you'd see at a rugby match. They were to clear the way for Harry. Once clear, the money would go in Harry's car and the others, using a second car would make certain no other vehicles could follow. He was to drive to Great Ancoats Street and hide the vehicle in a lock-up garage there and then go home and wait to be contacted later that day. Once everything was agreed, the men left. On his way out, Pete lightly slapped Harry on the arm, in an almost fatherly gesture.
The night was dark and empty, too dark for Harry to settle and too empty for any sensible thought to come. He walked the floor in his stocking feet, so as to not wake the house, smoking endless cigarettes. Pete had dropped twenty woodbines on the bed, as a parting gift. The ale was by now flat and tasted sour. The other bottle lasted less than five minutes, as it was drunk with nervous contempt for the work ahead.
