The Boy With the Latchkey

by Cathy Sharp

  He saw the blood seeping through Mr Connolly’s jacket halfway up his arm and thought quickly, removing his tie and tying it tightly over the wound to prevent him losing too much blood. Busy with his act of mercy, Billy wasn’t aware of what was going on until the ambulance drew up, and then both he and Mr Connolly were taken in and were on their way to the London Hospital in minutes.

  Billy knew that he was covered in blood, his shirt soaked and smears over his face and hands, though most of it was Mr Connolly’s. Once they got to the hospital the man he’d tried to help was swiftly wheeled away and Billy was taken into a cubicle and patched up. His own wounds were slight, even though one eye felt sore and his hand needed a bandage round it.

  ‘Take a few days off from work,’ the nurse told him. ‘I’m sure if you explain your boss will understand.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Billy said. ‘Sister Beatrice isn’t going to be pleased. She’s the Warden of St Saviour’s and doesn’t approve of fighting.’

  ‘If it hadn’t been for you a man would almost certainly have died tonight,’ the nurse said. ‘The police told our men about your quick actions – protecting him and then that bandage to stop the blood. You’re a brave man, Mr Baggins.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Billy grinned at her as he got ready to leave. ‘Can I see him – Mr Connolly?’

  ‘I’m sorry. He will have been in surgery, but I’m sure he will be fine now. You can visit tomorrow if you wish.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Billy said and left, trying hard to look as brave and nonchalant as she thought him, even though his eye hurt like hell and so did his hand.

  As he left the hospital he saw a nurse walking towards him and groaned. Rose O’Hanran! Why did she have to see him leaving in this condition at this hour? She would be sure to get the wrong idea.

  Rose didn’t speak but the look she gave him spoke volumes and he knew what she was going to say to Mary Ellen when she got home.

  ‘Billy! How could you?’ Sister Beatrice said as she saw him the next morning after he’d been into breakfast. ‘What have you been doing with yourself? I knew I shouldn’t have permitted you to work at that place – brawling like a prize fighter!’

  ‘It wasn’t like that, Sister,’ Billy protested. ‘Believe me, it happened after I left work …’

  ‘That makes it even worse. No, Billy, I don’t think I want to know what happened. I cannot condone fighting wherever it took place …’

  Billy stared after her in exasperation. She’d jumped to conclusions just as Rose had. Goodness knows what Rose would have said to her sister. He’d better go round there and try to explain, even though his head felt as if a thousand drums were beating inside.

  Mary Ellen worked every day apart from Saturday and Sunday, so that meant she would be at home. It would’ve been better if she’d been at work, because then he might have been allowed to see her and explain properly, but he could just imagine what Rose was going to say when she saw him. If anything, he looked worse than he had the previous night when Rose had spotted him leaving the London.

  It was Rose who opened the door of her flat. She stood there barring his way and looking furious. ‘If you think you’re coming in here looking like that, Billy Baggins, you’ve got another thing coming. I don’t hold with fighting …’

  ‘It wasn’t my fault,’ Billy said. ‘I don’t have to come in, can I just see Mary Ellen and explain to her please?’

  ‘She’s gone to the shops,’ Rose said. ‘I’ve told her what you are enough times. When she sees you like this she might take notice of me. You’ll find her down the market – if she wants to be seen with the likes of you …’

  Billy backed away from her fury. Rose was getting worse. He’d hoped that she would come round and begin to understand that he was really trying to make something of himself. If she would just let him explain – but she probably wouldn’t believe him anyway. He headed down to the market, determined to tell at least one person the truth.

  Mary Ellen was shopping with Marion. She gave a little scream when she saw Billy and ran to him instantly.

  ‘I didn’t believe Rose when she said she saw you leaving hospital after you’d been fighting, but I can see she was telling the truth. How could you, Billy? I wish you wouldn’t go to that horrid place …’

  ‘Why does everyone think I got into a fight at the club?’ Billy asked, exasperated.

  ‘You must have, unless you had an accident?’

  ‘I stopped a man being beaten up and killed,’ Billy said. ‘He’d been drinking at the club and left just before I finished. When I saw those thugs attacking him I had to stop them – didn’t I?’

  ‘’Course you did,’ Marion said and looked at him flirtatiously under her lashes. ‘I think you’re ever so brave, Billy. You shouldn’t nag him, Mary Ellen …’

  Mary Ellen hesitated and then inclined her head. ‘Yes, you did right,’ she agreed, ‘but if you hadn’t been there you wouldn’t have been involved …’

  ‘In which case Mr Connolly might have died; he probably would have, because they were after more than money …’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’m not sure why they were intent on killing him,’ Billy said, ‘but the vicious way they went at him was more than just a robbery – I’m sure of it …’

  ‘Oh, Billy …’ Mary Ellen gave a little sob. ‘You did the right thing; it’s just that I don’t want you to be hurt like this.’

  ‘It isn’t likely to happen again,’ Billy replied and shrugged. ‘Besides, I’m only working extra hours because I want to earn money for us, Mary Ellen. If we had our own home, I could support you while you go to college …’

  ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t even be thinking of it,’ she said doubtfully. ‘I’m doing well at work and Sam is really good to me. I think we could manage on what we both earn if I gave up my idea of being a teacher …’

  ‘It’s your dream,’ Billy said and smiled as she reached up to place a tender kiss on his cheek. ‘I don’t want you to give it up, Ellie love. I want you to be happy, and when we do have children of our own you’ll be ready and you won’t feel that you missed out …’

  ‘I’ll see you later,’ Marion said, turning away in disgust from the tender scene. ‘See you, Billy …’ She winked at him and walked off, her hips swaying. Billy laughed and shook his head.

  Mary Ellen put her arm through his possessively. ‘No one else is like you, Billy,’ she said. ‘You’re so good to me and I love you.’

  ‘I love you, too,’ Billy said. ‘Shall I see you this afternoon? We could go to the early house at the flicks if you like? It’s James Dean in East of Eden; I’ve seen it twice already but I want to see it again.’

  ‘Yes, all right,’ she smiled, knowing he was a big fan of James Dean. ‘Are you working tonight? Surely you’d be better in bed?’

  ‘I shall go in, but if Mr Marshall sends me home I’ll go,’ he promised. ‘Now what about the flicks?’

  ‘We’ll go to the matinee,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘I’ve got some reading to do but I can do that later.’

  ‘All right. I’ll meet you at two outside the Odeon and we’ll have a fish and chip tea afterwards.’

  ‘Lovely.’ Mary Ellen’s smile lit up her face and Billy felt the familiar lurch in his stomach. He’d loved her for so long now and he didn’t know what he’d do if he lost her. He’d be an idiot if he didn’t know Marion was making a play for him, but why would he look at anyone else when he’d got his own Mary Ellen?

  Billy got in at around half past seven that evening. He intended to wash and change and get ready for his stint at the club. Mr Marshall wanted him on at ten that evening so he had plenty of time. Just as he was about to mount the stairs, Sister Beatrice came out into the hall.

  ‘Ah, Billy,’ she said. ‘I’m glad I caught you. I wanted to talk to you in private. Would you come to my office please?’

  Billy’s heart sank. Was she going to tell him he either had to give up the job at the nightclub or move? He wasn’t r
eady to move out yet and Mr Marshall paid him decent money for a few hours’ work; he wouldn’t find another job like that easily.

  However, he followed obediently and was asked to sit down. Sister sat behind her desk, removed her glasses and looked at him. ‘Well, Billy, it seems I owe you an apology. I had a visit from Sergeant Sallis today. He told me that you’re quite a hero. Apparently, you saved a man’s life …’

  ‘I stopped him getting a worse beating,’ Billy said. ‘He’s all right, the nurse said when I asked this morning, but they’re keeping him in for another day or so to make sure …’

  ‘Yes, well, I’m glad to hear that. If I misjudged you this morning, I’m sorry, but you must admit you looked terrible.’

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ Billy grinned at her. ‘I was in trouble with Mary Ellen too until I told her what happened – and her sister thinks I’m like my brother.’

  ‘No, I can safely say you’re not in the least like Arthur – and nor are you one of those dreadful Teddy boys that keep smashing up cinemas and making trouble,’ Sister Beatrice said and smiled slightly. ‘I can’t say that I approve of your working at that nightclub but I do understand that you need to earn more money …’

  ‘I shan’t do it any longer than I need,’ Billy said. He was about to get up and leave when he saw that she hadn’t finished. ‘Is there something I can do for you, Sister Beatrice?’

  ‘There may be,’ she said hesitantly. ‘I dare say you remember Archie Miller?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I thought he’d been moved to the new home?’

  ‘He was but he ran away and came here. His sister was taken into care and he blames us at St Saviour’s. I told him I would try to help him and his family, and I shall. Indeed, I’ve already taken steps to find out as much as I can about the foster family – and it is my intention to visit Sandra Miller in prison as soon as Sergeant Sallis manages to get me a visiting order …’

  ‘But you want me to do something?’

  ‘Archie ran off again and I’m worried about him. I don’t want to report it to the police just yet, because I know that would alienate him immediately – but I wondered if you might make a few inquiries. He mentioned a Saturday job on the market. Could you make inquiries for me please?’

  ‘I know the man he worked for,’ Billy said, his frown lifting. ‘Yes, I’ll ask around and I’ll take a look down the Docks. A lot of kids and vagrants hang about there, and under the arches.’

  ‘I know you’re busy, but if you do discover something it could help us to find him. If he doesn’t turn up I shall have to report it to the police officially. Sergeant Sallis knows but I’ve asked him to keep it to himself for the moment …’

  Billy nodded and promised to do what he could. He was thoughtful as he went to his room. Once upon a time Sister Beatrice would have reported the boy’s absence immediately, but she was being careful, and Billy wasn’t sure why. No one knew better than he did how cold and dangerous the streets of London were for a young lad like Archie Miller. He was big enough to stand up for himself these days, but against a couple of thugs like those he’d found beating Mr Connolly, the boy wouldn’t stand a chance …

  CHAPTER 11

  Archie shivered and pulled his jacket collar up about his ears. He wished he’d brought a big coat with him when he’d run away from Halfpenny House, but it had been early summer and the evening warm. It was summer now but you wouldn’t think so that night, because the wind was cool and it was damp with the rain that had been drizzling all day, wetting the grimy pavements so they were slippery beneath his feet. He’d huddled up in this shop doorway once the streets had gone quiet, hugging his knees to try and keep out the chill that seemed to seep into his bones. All he’d got to sit on was a newspaper he’d picked up earlier and he envied some of the tramps he’d seen on the streets, with their layers of old coats and blankets, and their cardboard boxes that kept off some of the wind and rain.

  He’d only been on the streets a few nights, because after leaving Halfpenny House he’d gone back to his old home, only to find that the doors and windows had been boarded up. He’d managed to wrench the wooden slats from a window and had broken in, but the house was empty and cold, as cold as the streets. Archie had searched the house in case anything was left behind, but all their belongings had been removed. He felt resentful of the way his family had been treated and wondered where all his mum’s stuff had gone; she’d had one or two nice things his dad had bought her.

  Remembering that his mother had a secret place for her valuables, Archie felt his way upstairs in the dark. On the landing it was a bit lighter, because one small window hadn’t been boarded over. He entered his mother’s room and waited until his eyes became adjusted to the gloom, then started to pace it out until he came to the loose board next to where her wardrobe had stood. She’d kept a rug over the loose board, but that had gone with all the rest. Kneeling down, Archie felt around and then tipped the loose board up. He thrust his hand into the space beneath it and came up with a couple of objects and what felt like a little drawstring purse. He felt all round the opening and then replaced the board, thrusting the objects he’d found into his jacket pocket.

  On the landing, he sought the faint light of the window and looked at what he’d found – a pocket watch he knew had belonged to his father, a pretty silver brooch that his mother loved and the purse. Opening the drawstrings, he tipped the money into his hand and discovered that he had several half-crowns, a few florins and a couple of shillings, but also two pound notes. Tears stung his eyes as he thought of his mother painstakingly saving her few coins for something she thought her family needed. If she’d stolen those cheques and the ten pounds from the cash box the money would be here and it wasn’t. Archie hadn’t needed proof, but felt that he had it, because his mum would definitely have put the money here if she’d got it.

  Archie had spent four nights in the house, leaving it only to purchase a few chips or a bottle of drink during the day, hoarding his money carefully, knowing it had to last if he was going to save enough to go in search of June. On the fifth day he went out to buy something to eat and when he got back, he saw two men replacing the boards he’d torn down. This time they’d made a proper job of it and Archie knew he wouldn’t be able to tear them off with his bare hands. Since then he’d been on the streets and already he was dreading the onset of darkness, because on his first night sleeping rough, he’d tried to take shelter with some other vagrants and they’d told him to clear off, threatening him with their fists. Archie had been eyeing their fire in an old oil can with envy, wondering if he could creep closer and perhaps beg a cup of tea from their billycan, but they’d made it clear he wasn’t welcome. Since then he’d been looking for shop doorways to shelter in, but quite a few of them were already in use and Archie just wandered from street to street, looking for somewhere he could camp until he worked out what to do.

  His money was running low, because he’d bought drinks and buns from cafés at the start, but today he’d joined a queue of vagrants at a stall giving out cardboard cups of hot soup and bread, because he dared not spend any more of his precious hoard, which was fastened inside his shirt. The man serving behind the stall was a vicar; he wore his back-to-front collar and a dark vest under his jacket and dispensed the free drinks with a smile, but when he saw Archie he’d looked concerned.

  ‘What are you doing here, lad?’ he’d asked. ‘You shouldn’t be on the streets at your age. I’ll give you the address of a hostel you can go to if you wait a moment …’

  Archie had taken his soup and walked off. He didn’t want people like that interfering in his life. No doubt the vicar meant well and would try to help him if he let him, but Archie knew what would happen the moment he entered the hostel. The police would be called and he’d be taken back to St Saviour’s or that other place … unless they arrested him for theft and put him in a remand home for bad boys.

  Archie felt a surge of anger against the people who had ruined his life, sendin
g his mother to prison when she was innocent and then taking his sister away, just because she’d got into bad company. He hunched his knees to his chest as he pondered what to do for the best. He’d been counting on help from Sister Beatrice, but she’d denied her involvement in what happened to June, and that meant she was a liar and not to be trusted. If he got sent back to Halfpenny House, he would be shut in that cupboard again … and he might end up being sent to a remand home.

  Archie sat with his knees hunched and his head bent forward. For a moment tears wetted his cheeks, because he was hungry, cold and tired and felt defeated. How could he get June back when he didn’t even have the money for shelter and food? Where would they go even if he did? No doubt as soon as the authorities learned that she’d run away from her foster home they would put them both in a secure place where punishment was handed out for the merest infringement – like that rotten cupboard Archie had been shut in just for speaking up for his rights.

  ‘Something the matter, lad?’ The soft voice startled Archie and he looked up in alarm. He’d thought he was safe here, because no one had bothered him for two consecutive nights. ‘Want to tell me about it? Perhaps I can help?’

  Archie rose warily to his feet. The man didn’t look like a tramp that wanted his spot back, nor was he a do-gooder like the vicar who had been handing out soup earlier. In the light of the street lamp it was possible to see that he was slightly balding, plump in the face and wearing a good suit and shoes.

  ‘I’m not doing any harm,’ Archie said defensively. ‘If this is your shop I can move on …’

  ‘No, this isn’t my business,’ the man said softly, his voice rather like the purring of a cat. ‘I just thought perhaps you were in trouble. I should like to help you if I can. Would you like to come back to my place and tell me what happened to you? I could get you something hot to eat and you can stay the night if you want …’

  Archie was tempted, but something told him not to trust the man. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he didn’t like the way he was looking at him … as if expectant, eager; his narrow-set eyes unnaturally bright.