The Long Walk Home

by Valerie Wood

  ‘That’s it,’ he muttered. ‘I’m off.’

  He shuffled on his stomach towards the place where he had climbed up; peered over, saw it was all clear and swiftly climbed down and walked, not hurriedly but as if he was out on business, towards the top road and safety.

  Then he began to hurry towards the lodging house to collect his few belongings, fearful that the constables might also come knocking on that door. He was sure that Manners and Gilby, if cornered, would implicate him too. He pushed open the door and Bridget was there.

  ‘What ’you doing back at this time?’ she said, yawning. She was sitting in the chair with her feet in the hearth even though there wasn’t a fire lit.

  ‘Why does everybody question what I’m doing?’ Mikey said irritably.

  ‘Cos you’re a creature of habit,’ Bridget shrugged. ‘You’re allus so predictable. You turn up when you say you will, allus on time for work; things like that. Everybody knows you’ll not do owt out of ’ordinary.’

  ‘Really!’ he said, picking up his knapsack. He crossed the room to the battered chest of drawers where he and Simon kept things like socks, and took out his other pair. Then he noticed that Simon had left a pair behind so he picked those up too and put them in his bag. He wished he still had Mrs Turner’s old blanket, but that had disintegrated long ago.

  ‘What ’you doing?’ Bridget sat up. ‘Are you off somewhere? Can I come?’

  Mikey took a breath. Now here was a dilemma. Should he tell her and if he did would she want to go home to Hull with him, or would she stay here and tell Manners and Tully where he’d gone? He saw that she was watching him and waiting for an answer.

  ‘Where you going?’ she repeated. ‘Tell me.’

  He hesitated, and then took a chance. ‘What if I said I was going home? To Hull.’

  She laughed, loudly and coarsely. ‘Home? On your own? Not likely.’ She yawned again and drew her arms above her head, lifting up her long dark hair. ‘You’d never make it. Hah,’ she snorted. ‘You’d never have got to London but for me.’ She leaned forward to catch his eye. ‘Never told you, did I?’

  ‘What?’ he said sullenly, wanting to get away and yet somehow reluctant to leave her. How would she cope on her own? How would she deal with Manners and Tully?

  She smiled, cunning and worldly; then she winked. ‘How do you think I got ’money for ’ferry fare, or for ’journey? Who bought ’food for them first days?’

  ‘We managed,’ he said, but then remembered that Bridget’s money had lasted longer than his did.

  She rose from the chair and put her arms round his waist. ‘Managed?’ she whispered, her mouth close to his cheek. ‘No, Mikey, it was me that managed. It was me who earned ’money so that we didn’t starve afore we got halfway across Lincolnshire.’ She ran her hands down his back. ‘And who soft-soaped Manners to get us these lodgings?’

  Mikey pushed her away. ‘Tully got us these rooms. He said so.’

  ‘That was because Tony Manners told him to,’ she said. ‘Tully’s onny small fry even though he acts as if he is boss. He’s not.’ She turned her back on Mikey. ‘Manners is.’

  He took hold of her by the shoulder and turned her round to face him, and he saw her defiance crumble.

  ‘But it didn’t matter what I did for you, Mikey,’ she whispered. ‘It didn’t matter cos you never even noticed. I was nothing to you.’

  ‘We were friends, Bridget,’ he answered, unnerved by what she was saying. ‘Are friends. I never asked you to do owt you’d be ashamed of.’

  She shook her head; her eyes were bright. ‘Who said I was ashamed? I’ll do what I have to to get out of this pit of poverty. Not like you, Mikey.’ She sneered. ‘You’ll never make owt of yourself. You haven’t got ’backbone. Not like Simon or Manners.’

  ‘Like Simon!’ he taunted. ‘Well at least I’m telling you that I’m leaving. I’m not disappearing and letting somebody else do my dirty work. And I’m onny tekking what’s mine,’ he added. ‘I’m not thieving like Simon and Manners. Tek care, Bridget. There’s all sorts going on wi’ Tully and Manners and you shouldn’t get mixed up wi’ it.’

  Her eyes opened wide as he put the knapsack on his back.

  ‘You’re really going?’ she said. ‘Sure, you’re kidding me!’ She caught his arm. ‘Don’t go, Mikey. I didn’t mean what I said. Honest I didn’t.’

  He sighed. ‘Yes, you did. And mebbe I haven’t got what it takes to make summat of myself. Mebbe that’s why I’m going back. I’m not like you, that’s true. You’ve allus looked out for yourself. Nobody else. You’re a bit like Simon really. Anyway,’ he added, ‘you wouldn’t want to go back to Hull, to how you lived afore wi’ your ma and da.’

  She stared at him as if he was speaking a foreign language that she couldn’t understand. Then, with her lips parted, she shook her head. ‘No, I wouldn’t,’ she said softly. ‘Not to my da, anyway. I’d get ’flat of his hand if I did go back.’ She swallowed. ‘But if you should see my ma, you could tell her – tell her that I’m doing all right. Tell her that I’ve got a job, and – and some friends wi’ plenty o’ money.’

  He smiled. ‘Yeh, I’ll do that. When I get there.’ He leaned towards her and planted a kiss on her cheek. ‘Listen to what I say, Bridget. Manners and Tully could be in trouble. Especially Manners.’

  Bridget nodded and touched her cheek with her fingers. ‘I’m listening, Mikey,’ she said. ‘I’m listening to what you’re saying.’

  And to what you’re not saying, she thought as he opened the door and took one last look back. I’m listening to you saying that you don’t want me. She fought back tears. Have never wanted me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Mikey strode purposefully out of the lodging house. He had pangs of guilt over leaving Bridget, and yet he knew in his heart she wouldn’t have wanted to go home. But she wanted me to ask her, he thought. She wanted to be given the chance to refuse. Perhaps I should have granted her that. But I was scared, he pondered. Scared that she might have said yes.

  But now his concern was with Sam. He hadn’t come back to the lodgings last night. Perhaps he’s decided to stay another day with William and the Goodharts as he had no job to come back to. But I can’t leave without telling him.

  He walked to the end of the street and, turning on to the main road, continued for a while and then sat down on a low wall to consider. Tate, one of the casual labourers whom he had laid off this morning, came towards him.

  ‘Now then, Quinn,’ the fellow greeted him. ‘Have you been laid off as well?’

  ‘Yeh,’ Mikey lied. ‘There’s no work for a bit.’

  ‘What? None tomorrow neither? I was thinking of going back tomorrow.’

  Mikey shook his head. ‘Nah! I’d leave it a day or two if I was you.’

  The fellow grinned. ‘You don’t half talk funny, Quinn; has anybody ever told you?’

  The man was a bit gormless, Mikey thought, but meant no harm. ‘Do I?’ he said seriously. ‘I was just thinking ’same thing about you. You haven’t seen Sam about, have you?’

  Tate shook his head. ‘No. So you don’t think I should apply for work yet? I need the money.’

  ‘If I were you I’d try another company. It’s a bit slow at Manners at ’minute.’ He tipped a wink at Tate and hoped he’d take the hint, but the man only nodded, not understanding.

  ‘I will then. Where do you think I should try?’

  Mikey mentioned another company a fair distance away from Manners’s present site, adding, ‘If you should see Sam, will you tell him I was looking for him?’

  Tate said he would and slouched off. Mikey gazed after him. Tate was someone who wouldn’t ever better himself, he hadn’t the ability to, but that was not his fault. It was what Bridget had intimated about him, though, and that hurt, for he knew it wasn’t true.

  He glanced down the road past the turning for the lodging house and heaved a breath of relief when he recognized the familiar figure of Sam. But his bearing
was disconsolate. His head and shoulders were lowered and he was kicking desultorily at stones.

  ‘Sam! Sam!’ Mikey jumped off the wall and ran towards him, wanting to catch him before he turned the corner.

  Sam looked up and stopped, but he didn’t wave or grin as he normally would.

  ‘What’s up?’ Mikey said. ‘Didn’t you have a good Christmas? Are you missing William?’

  Sam shrugged. He seemed very melancholy. ‘Yeh. Mrs Goodhart give me this scarf.’ A bright canary-yellow muffler was round his neck. ‘She give me an orange as well. She give one to all the lads.’ He pulled a wry face. ‘They were sour.’

  ‘You didn’t come back last night,’ Mikey probed. ‘Did they ask you to stop?’

  Sam nodded. ‘Parson Goodhart brought me back this morning. He took me into London.’

  ‘Oh? London? What for?’

  ‘He said he’d take me to see about joining the London Shoe-Black Brigade. He dropped me off early cos he had to get back for a service, but when I found the office where you enrol, it was closed.’ He pouted. ‘They take two days off at Christmas, not like us with just Christmas Day.’

  ‘Oh, hard luck. But you’ll be able to go again.’

  ‘I know, but I’d got all worked up about it.’

  ‘Sam,’ Mikey said. ‘I want to tell you summat. I’m not working for Manners and Tully now. I’ve left.’

  ‘Why?’ Sam asked. ‘Have you got another job?’

  ‘No. There’s trouble brewing and I decided to get out. There were loads of police about earlier, all heading down to ’warehouses.’

  ‘I knew it!’ Sam was jubilant. ‘I knew they was up to somefink. Them and Simon, they’ve all been on the make.’

  ‘Thing is, Sam,’ Mikey said diffidently, ‘I’m not stopping here. I’ve decided to go back to my home town.’

  Sam’s mouth dropped open. ‘Where’s that?’

  ‘Hull. It’s up north. In Yorkshire.’

  ‘But what about me?’ Sam gasped. ‘You said we’d always be pals; and what about Miss Kendall? And what about Bridget?’

  Odd that Sam should call Ellie Miss Kendall, Mikey thought, and Bridget by her first name. Could he tell the difference in their status, or was it because he had known Bridget right from the beginning of their life here?

  Sam pressed his lips together and blinked hard. ‘It’s not fair!’

  ‘But you were thinking of being a shoe-black boy,’ Mikey said quietly. ‘You’d have been going off to live somewhere else.’

  ‘Yes, but,’ Sam stammered and huffed out a breath, ‘I’d still be in London and if you’d got another job you could’ve come to see me; and – and I’d even have done your boots for free.’

  Mikey considered that it sounded so simple the way Sam put it, but he knew that it wouldn’t have worked like that. Life was much more complicated.

  ‘Miss Kendall – Ellie wants to go home too. She’s from ’same town as me. But Bridget doesn’t want to come. She wants to stay here.’

  Sam nodded, but his bottom lip stuck out petulantly. ‘She’s thick wiv Manners, that’s why. She stops over at his place sometimes.’

  Mikey’s spirits sank. What would Bridget do if Manners went to prison? Should I go back and warn her? He’d no sooner voiced his worries to Sam than they were disturbed by the sound of hooves and carriage wheels and a Black Maria passed them, turning in the direction of the warehouses and wharves.

  Sam grabbed Mikey’s arm. ‘Come on,’ he said urgently. ‘They might have got wind of something and be going to pick up Manners and Tully, and if them two beggars see us here, they’ll tell on us.’

  ‘But what about Bridget?’ Mikey suddenly panicked. ‘Mebbe ’police will go to ’lodging house. I should warn her. They might be looking for goods.’

  ‘There is none,’ Sam said. ‘Not at our place. But there is at Manners’s lodgings. I’ve seen it.’

  ‘When?’ Mikey asked, amazed as always by Sam’s knowledge. ‘When have you been there?’

  Sam grimaced and pulled Mikey off the wall. ‘Come on, let’s be going. Bridget’ll be all right,’ he said as Mikey protested. ‘I followed her one night to see where she was going and she went to Manners’s place. I looked through the window and it was stacked with crates and boxes. Tony Manners opened one and Bridget took out some bottles, brandy or somefink, and put them in a shopping basket. Then he opened another and brought out packets of baccy and she took some of them as well. She catches a horse bus.’ He pulled on Mikey’s arm. ‘I’ve seen her, and she goes into London to sell it in the markets or somewhere.’

  Mikey caught his breath. I can’t believe she would do such a thing. What if she got caught? He felt sick. Still, she’ll manage, he thought, hastening his steps to keep up with a fleeing Sam. Her wits are much sharper than mine.

  They speeded up until they considered that they were far enough out of the area to be safe. They found another wall to sit on and Sam turned to Mikey to say, ‘I’d give up the shoe-black job and come wiv you if it wasn’t for William. I know I don’t often see him, but he is my brother and I wouldn’t like to leave him.’

  ‘I understand, Sam,’ Mikey said. ‘When I came to London I left my brothers and sister behind. But I knew I couldn’t earn enough money to keep us all, and they were probably better off in ’workhouse. Well,’ he added disconsolately, ‘not better off, but they’d get fed at least once a day.’

  Sam had shuddered at the mention of the workhouse. ‘That’s what my uncle kept threatening us wiv. He said he’d send us there if we were any trouble.’

  ‘We could go and see William and ask him what he thinks about you going with me to Hull,’ Mikey suggested. ‘Ask ’Goodharts too, see what they think.’

  ‘Mebbe William’d come wiv us!’ Sam brightened up. ‘That would be good. We’d be like a proper family then.’

  Mikey thought of the responsibility of looking after William as well as Sam, but he nodded. ‘So we would. Will you come with me to see Ellie? She wants to come but I’m worried about her.’ He took a breath. ‘I don’t know what we’ll do for money,’ he said. ‘I’m practically on my beam-ends.’

  It was then that he recalled that Tully had given him some money for Sam and he dug into his pocket. ‘Your wages, Sam,’ he said, dividing all he had with the boy. ‘Tully sent them.’

  ‘Did he?’ Sam was amazed. ‘Crikey. I thought I’d have to whistle for ’em.’

  Mikey laughed. ‘Life is full o’ surprises, Sam.’ He jumped off the wall. ‘Come on. Let’s be off and see what’s round ’next corner.’

  After Mikey had left, Bridget put on her boots and wrapped a shawl round her head and shoulders. She waited a couple of minutes and then went out. She stopped at the end of the street and looked up and down the main road. Mikey was talking to one of the casual labourers that Manners employed so she slipped back into a doorway, huddling into her shawl. Is he really leaving, she wondered, or will he come back?

  She looked out again after a moment and saw Sam walking towards Mikey, and took the opportunity to steal out and dash towards the warehouses. I’ll be stopped if anybody sees me, she thought. They don’t like women being down here. I’ll have to have an excuse ready. She stepped back into the shelter of a gap as a Black Maria came trundling along the road, and hoped the driver hadn’t seen her.

  ‘Summat’s going on,’ she breathed. ‘Mikey’s right about that.’ She peered down the road towards the wharves. ‘Is it Tully or Manners they’re after?’

  Furtively she crept further and further down towards the warehouse, which she already knew was about to be emptied and the goods transferred elsewhere. Manners had told her, although he hadn’t said where the new warehouse was to be. He kept a lot close to his chest, did Manners, unlike Tully who would tell her most things if she was artful enough.

  She saw the Black Maria stop and a sudden flurry of police appeared from all directions. Then she almost held her breath as two men with their hands shackled were pushed into
the carriage by two constables. Who were they? From this safe distance she couldn’t quite make out.

  There was a sudden movement behind her and a clammy breath on her cheek. Bridget froze and gave a small gasp as someone put a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Looks like ’law caught up with ’em,’ a voice rasped and she turned her head.

  ‘Tully! How—’

  Tully’s black stubble creased into a grin. ‘How did I know? I didn’t, not till your pal Quinn gave ’game away.’

  ‘Mikey? He wouldn’t,’ she protested.

  ‘He didn’t mean to.’ Tully pulled her back into the gap as the police carriage rolled by. ‘I saw him down here early this morning and it slipped out that he was meeting Manners. I knew nowt about any consignment arriving so I kept my eyes peeled.’

  ‘And you tipped off ’police,’ Bridget said softly. ‘What a clever chap you are, Tully! But why? They’ll tell on you, you know. Manners and Gilby. They’ll be sure to drop you in it.’

  Tully slowly shook his head. ‘There’s nowt wi’ my name on it, darlin’. I’ve got all I wanted out of there. Just a few crates o’ baccy and some bottles o’ cognac. I didn’t want to be dealing in marble and all them luxury goods like Manners and Gilby wanted. There’s a bigger price to be paid for them and I’ve already had a trip to warmer climes. But Manners got greedy; you’ll know about that,’ he said, his eyes narrowing and his black eyebrows beetling. ‘And he might tell on you, as well,’ he added.

  Bridget shrugged, but uneasily. Tully was so sharp, so astute. The chances he took were well planned, whereas Manners with his swaggering brashness was inclined to take a risk. ‘I onny did what I was told,’ she said.

  ‘What about his lodgings?’ Tully said quickly.

  ‘What about ’em?’

  ‘Was there much kept there?’

  ‘Some,’ she admitted. ‘Why? Are you interested?’

  He winked. ‘Now there’s a gel after my own heart,’ he wheezed. ‘Shall we just tek a peek? Bobbies won’t be there yet. He won’t tell ’em where he lodges. But we know, don’t we, gel?’