by Cathy Sharp
‘Bloody gents, are we?’ one of the thugs laughed and spat in Billy’s direction. ‘You must be orf your bleedin’ ’ead, mate. We’re ’ere to do a job and we ain’t leavin’ until we’ve got what we want.’
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Billy said, clasping his club firmly as he moved towards them. ‘You can go nice and quiet or you can put up a fight – but you’re goin’ one way or the other … Sam and me are fed up with bein’ ripped off by your lot …’
‘Who’s goin’ ter make me leave then?’ the first man said and moved forward aggressively.
‘That would be me,’ Billy glared at him. ‘You’re goin’ to be very sorry if you don’t just turn round and leave nicely …’
‘Who the bleedin’ ’ell do yer think yer are?’
‘I’m the bloke who is goin’ to teach you a lesson …’
‘Try me …’ the man invited furiously, squaring up, an iron jemmy clutched in his hand. ‘Come on, you bleeder, I’ll show you who’s goin’ ter get a lesson, and it ain’t me.’
‘Nah, Ricky.’ Stevie laid a hand on his arm. ‘Don’t yer know who he is? We’d better do as he says and leave.’
‘I ain’t lettin’ ’im push me around. He’s only one and there’re three of us … What are yer, bleedin’ cowards?’
‘He’s Connolly’s minder …’ Stevie spoke in a low voice. ‘We can come back if he says so but I ain’t goin’ against the boss.’
The man addressed as Ricky froze, his face a picture of indecision. Billy thought it might have been funny if he hadn’t been in such a dangerous situation. He clutched his wooden club, lifting his arm suggestively as if to invite the intruders to come on to him.
‘Are you Connolly’s bleedin’ man?’ Ricky demanded.
‘I don’t see what it has to do with you,’ Billy said, ‘but as it happens I do work for him …’
‘What you bleedin’ doin’ ’ere then?’
‘I live here,’ Billy said and grinned, ‘and you disturbed my beauty sleep, mate – so are you leavin’?’
At that moment they heard voices outside and then a police whistle a little distance away. The intruders looked at each other uneasily and then Stevie bolted for the window and scrambled through; a second followed sharply, but Ricky lingered, clearly unwilling to retreat.
He took a step forward as if he would fight, but Billy squared up to him and his mates called to him to hurry. He hesitated and then retreated to the window, still looking threateningly at Billy.
‘This ain’t the bleedin’ finish,’ he muttered. ‘We’ll be back and next time you’ll be wishin’ you’d never been born …’
Billy lunged at him then, but he shot through the window and after that all hell seemed to let loose, shouting, police whistles and then banging at the back door.
‘You in there! You’d better come out quietly or we’ll come in and get you …’
Billy hesitated and then unbolted the door and let the police enter. Three burst in and another two climbed through the broken window. Billy dropped his club and one of the police constables approached him, a look of glee on his face.
‘Caught you in the act, did we? Two of yer mates got away, but we’ll have the rest of yer behind bars before we’re finished – and the charge won’t just be breakin’ and enterin’. One of our officers has been hurt …’
‘Not by me, Officer,’ Billy protested as his arm was grabbed. ‘I’m the night watchman here and I was trying to stop them stealing Sam’s goods. It was lucky that you turned up – how did you know?’
‘Likely tale,’ the police constable said. ‘Think up a better one for the magistrate in the mornin’, mate, or you’ll be facin’ a long stretch behind bars …’
‘What’s goin’ on here?’ a voice Billy recognised with relief asked. ‘Billy, are you all right, lad?’
‘Sam, thank goodness you’re here,’ Billy said. ‘This officer was just about to arrest me. They scared some rogues off though – three of them broke in a short time ago and I was tryin’ to persuade them to leave when suddenly whistles started blowing and they scarpered.’
‘Are you the owner here?’ the police constable asked. ‘This man claims he’s your night watchman.’
‘Yes, he is; he started tonight. He’s goin’ to live over the top and try to keep us safe from thieves breakin’ in …’
‘Started tonight, did he? That explains it,’ the police officer said. ‘We got a telephone call to say there was a light on upstairs in empty rooms and we thought we’d investigate, and then we saw a light down here and a broken window …’ He removed his hand from Billy’s shoulder. ‘Apologies, but it seemed odd to us seeing as no one knew you were living here.’
‘I’m just doing it up,’ Billy said, ‘but I shall be living here in future – and once Sam gets the phone on we’ll be able to ring you ourselves.’ He paused, then, ‘I might have been in a spot of bother if you hadn’t turned up – so thanks for your help.’
‘Everything all right here then?’
‘Yes thank you, Officer,’ Sam said and drew a sigh of relief as the police constable withdrew. ‘You’re sure you’re not hurt, Billy?’
‘I’m fine,’ Billy assured him, ‘but the man they called Ricky says he’ll be back and we can’t rely on the coppers turning up next time. It was only because someone in the street became suspicious over my light that they were here when I needed a bit of help …’
‘Nosy neighbours?’ Sam grinned wryly and nodded. ‘We’ll fix something up, Billy; we’ll be ready next time …’
‘Good idea,’ Billy said but didn’t smile. ‘One of them said something … he told Ricky not to fight me because I was Connolly’s man …’ He left Stevie’s name out of it, though he wasn’t sure why – maybe because they’d been mates at school, or because Stevie had got the thugs to leave when the police arrived.
‘I knew it,’ Sam said. ‘I thought it had to be him. Oh, Connolly would never get his hands dirty, but he has a lot of men working for him who would …’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Don’t worry, Billy. I knew you weren’t involved and I wasn’t sure … but I’m sure now.’
‘Yes, they called him “the boss” – at least one of them did, and I’m sure the fact that I worked for him is the only reason that Ricky didn’t go for me before the police got here.’
‘I’m sorry, Billy. I know it was a good job for you.’
‘No!’ Billy said and his mouth had gone hard. ‘I’m not my brother. I don’t steal and I don’t work for a crook … even if he does get other people to do his dirty work …’
‘What are you goin’ to do then?’ Sam asked, looking thoughtful.
‘I’ll give in my notice. I’ve got a bit of savings so I’ll manage until I can find something else.’
‘What will you tell Connolly?’ Sam frowned. ‘If he thinks you’re suspicious of him, he won’t let you just walk off …’
‘I’ll think of somethin’,’ Billy said. ‘I’m not sure what yet but I’ll come up with some excuse …’
‘Why not just tell him you’ve found a better job?’ Sam said and smiled. ‘I could do with someone like you about the place, Billy … I’ll find some work for you, in the showroom and deliverin’ … You can help Herbie and Bert and be around when you’re needed, because I don’t think we’ve seen the end of this rotten lot yet …’
In the end Billy didn’t need to find an excuse for leaving Mr Connolly. When he turned up the next day, his boss gave him a look that would have sent shivers down the spine of a lesser man.
‘So you weren’t satisfied with the wage I paid you,’ he said coldly. ‘I don’t like traitors, Billy, and I don’t employ men I can’t trust.’
Billy was about to retort angrily but thought better of it. ‘I’ve done what you asked of me, Mr Connolly, but Sam offered me somewhere to live and in return I look after his place. I didn’t think it would bother you, sir. I’m sorry if you think I let you down, but I’m ge
ttin’ married soon and my girlfriend didn’t much like the idea of me bein’ out at nights …’
‘You owe me twenty quid for the stuff I let you have on the market,’ Connolly said. ‘I’ll give you a week to find the money … now get out. I don’t want to see you again, unless you’ve got my money.’
‘I can pay you now, sir,’ Billy said and took a small bundle of notes from inside his jacket. He placed the money on Mr Connolly’s desk. ‘I’d still like to say thank you for the offer of work. Goodbye …’
As he walked away, Billy was conscious of Connolly’s eyes on his back and he knew that next time he came face to face with the infamous Ricky, he wouldn’t stay his hand. In Connolly’s mind he’d chosen the wrong side and he wouldn’t be forgiven.
He was glad to have broken away from a man he’d thought respectable, if a bit on the hard side, but now knew to be a rogue and a bully. Billy wasn’t sure why Mr Connolly had been attacked that night, but in his business he must make enemies and no doubt they’d thought to find him vulnerable. He’d taken Billy on not out of the kindness of his heart, but because he knew he might be attacked again – and he would need another protector, but he already had a suitable man in his employ. Ricky would step into Billy’s shoes easily enough.
He was thoughtful as he made his way home; pausing to purchase paint and various bits he needed to use for restoring the rooms above the workshop. Most of Billy’s hard-earned savings had gone on paying Mr Connolly the money he owed and now he was stuck with a load of market goods he had no way of shifting, unless … A smile touched his mouth as he thought about an idea that had just come to him. Sam might not agree, but to Billy’s mind it would tackle two problems in one throw …
Mary Ellen walked into Rose’s bathroom and stopped in surprise as she saw Marion standing there in just her petticoat. She had blood on her mouth and bruises all over her upper arms, and was obviously crying. Seeing Mary Ellen, she turned away quickly and applied a flannel to her mouth.
‘What happened?’ Mary Ellen said. ‘Who did this to you, love?’
Marion shook her head, but when Mary Ellen put her arm round her she started to sob, and it gradually came out. Stevie had started hitting her a few weeks back, because she wouldn’t do what he wanted.
‘What do you mean?’ Mary Ellen stared at her in horror as the story came out bit by bit. Stevie had bought Marion lots of little presents and she’d slept with him at his flat, but then he’d started demanding that she slept with other men in return for all he’d given her. Marion had refused and told him she didn’t want to see him again, and so he’d beaten her and left her lying on the street hurt.
‘He’s evil,’ Mary Ellen cried and ran some cold water into the basin. She took the flannel from Marion and began to bathe her arms in the cooling water and then gently dried her flesh. ‘Why don’t you go to the police? I’ll come with you …’
‘I care about him,’ Marion said brokenly. ‘Oh, I know I flirt with Billy, but that was only to annoy you. I was envious because he’s so good to you – but I loved Stevie.’
‘You can’t love him now,’ Mary Ellen told her. ‘You’re not the only girl he’s hurt, Marion. He’s been forcing a girl at work to steal things for him …’ She saw the look in her friend’s eyes. ‘What?’
‘He was always askin’ me things about you and Sam, how much stuff you sold and whether Sam kept his money at the workshops …’
‘You didn’t tell him?’
‘I didn’t know anything, except that you were busy. I told him you’d had some pilferin’ and you’d put mirrors up … but that’s all …’
‘You would’ve though, if you’d known …’ Mary Ellen looked at her sadly. ‘I thought we were friends.’
‘You only care about Billy,’ Marion said and looked at her, eyes brilliant with spite. ‘Well, he kissed me the other night after the youth club when you went home early because you were too busy. You think Billy’s yours and you neglect him – but one of these days you’ll lose him, even if it isn’t to me … and I’ve had enough of you poking your nose in my business. You can tell Rose I’m leavin’. I’ve got somewhere else to stay …’
Marion pushed past her and went running into her bedroom, slamming the door shut and locking it. Mary Ellen stared after her, her throat tight. Had Billy really met Marion and kissed her the night they’d had a bit of a tiff because she couldn’t stay late at the club? She didn’t want to believe her, but Billy had been a bit odd with her the next day. She thought they’d made it up … but was he getting fed up because she had so much studying to do?
‘Buy a market stall so that you can sell the cabbage for us and stop selling it in the workshops?’ Sam stared at him for several seconds in silence and Billy thought he was going to dismiss the idea out of hand. ‘We could certainly cut out the pilfering that way …’ he said at last. ‘And how are you going to run the stall? I’ll need you here for at least part of the day.’
‘I’ve got some ideas,’ Billy smiled. ‘It’s only a Saturday site. Ted Hastings was telling me that the pitch next to him was being sold and he has first offer, but I think he might let us go in partnership with him. I’d take on young Archie Miller and there’s another boy I know who used to be at St Saviour’s. He’s looking for work and I could give him a few hours. I’d oversee the stall, get set up and make sure they were settled for the day and then come back here. Ted would keep an eye on them … and if he’s gettin’ a share and exclusive rights to your cabbage, I reckon it will go like a bomb.’
Sam thought about it and then nodded, ‘I think it could work, Billy. We don’t get that much cabbage really, and I could cut out some of the traders and make it easier to serve the best ones. I’ve thought for a long time that I’d prefer to work for our better-class customers full time …’
‘Yeah, why not?’ Billy grinned. ‘Why not make your customers ring to gain entrance, Sam? Like the jewellery manufacturers do? That shop across the road where they make gold chains, rings and stuff – you don’t see people just walking in and out there. They make them ring a bell and only admit the customers they want …’
Sam nodded, looking thoughtful again. ‘Nolly Rivers is an old friend of mine. He had to tighten his security a year or so back when raiders broke in during opening hours and threatened them all with guns and knives. He lost thousands that day and says he’d rather pack it up than have it happen again, so now he only deals with the customers he trusts.’
‘He told me the same when I asked if he would design a wedding ring set for Mary Ellen.’ Billy sighed. ‘I can’t afford it now for a while, because I had to pay Connolly twenty pounds for the stuff he told me to sell on his stall … and I have no way of selling it now …’
Sam frowned, then, ‘Show me what he sold you, Billy?’
‘Oh, I’ve got it in boxes upstairs; there’s a few bits and pieces, but nothing from here … at least I don’t think so …’
‘It wouldn’t matter if there was, because it will all go on the stall and get sold over time. No, don’t you see, Billy? If he made his stallholders sell the stuff his rogues stole from here, he probably sold you stolen stuff from somewhere else – and if we could trace it and prove it was stolen …’
‘We might be able to prove Connolly is behind the thefts …’
Sam nodded approvingly. ‘I know most of the workshops round here, Billy, and I’ll recognise their labels or their style.’
‘You’d better come and have a look then,’ Billy said. ‘Because the last thing I need is to be selling stolen goods …’
‘I’m sorry, Mary Ellen,’ Billy said when he saw her on that Friday evening. ‘You remember the jumper I sold you that you were going to give Rose for her birthday?’ She nodded, her eyes widening. ‘Well, it was stolen, along with about two hundred more …’
‘Oh no,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘It was Rose’s birthday yesterday and I’ve already given the jumper to her as well as a skirt I bought from Sam’s – she’s wearing them to
go out in this evening. I shall have to tell her and get her another one …’
‘No, it’s all right,’ Billy said. ‘I’ve returned what I had left to their rightful owner and he was grateful, said it didn’t matter about the few I’d sold – and thanked me for being so honest. He’d had his suspicions about who had broken in and stolen his stuff, but he’s had more locks put on since then and says there’s not much he can do about it, except be more careful in future.’
‘So I don’t have to tell Rose she’s wearing a pinched jumper,’ Mary Ellen said and gave a sigh of relief. ‘Thank goodness … but you’ve lost money, Billy. It’s a rotten shame.’
‘It doesn’t matter, because I’m working for Sam now and soon I’ll have a nice surprise for you,’ Billy smiled and kissed her. ‘I’d much rather lose a few quid than be labelled a thief like my brother …’
‘You’re not a bit like Arthur,’ she said and seemed hesitant, then, ‘You know, I think Rose is softening up a bit. I asked her if we could get engaged on my birthday and she sort of said maybe. She’s been in a much better mood lately.’
‘She must have a new man,’ Billy teased and Mary Ellen looked thoughtful. ‘I may not be able to afford the ring I was going to get you by your birthday …’
‘I don’t have to have an expensive ring. One of those little silver ones with the clasped hands would be fine.’
‘They’re friendship rings, aren’t they?’ Billy frowned. ‘Maybe I’ll get that then if it’s all I can afford, but it isn’t what I’d planned for us.’
‘Are you sure you still want to marry me?’
‘What do you mean?’ Billy was puzzled. ‘Is something wrong, Ellie? What’ve I done?’
She looked at the ground as she answered, ‘Marion was crying last night. Stevie beat her up because she wouldn’t go on the game for him – and I told her she should go to the police. She got spiteful and told me you kissed her … she said you were fed up with me studying all the time …’
Billy took a deep breath. ‘It was the night you said you had to leave the youth club early. I found Marion crying on the street when I walked home. She’d had a row with her boyfriend and I tried to comfort her, because she was frightened … and she threw her arms around me and kissed me …’
