The Girl from the Corner Shop

by Alrene Hughes

  ‘Can I come in and speak to you? I’ll not make a fuss.’

  ‘Why would I let you into my house after the way you treated my friend Laurence that night when he brought me home?’

  ‘I was in the wrong, but—’

  ‘And what about Gwen? You finished with her, but not before you got her pregnant and, when I told you, you washed your hands of her.’

  ‘I’m so sorry about everything, but I need to talk to you. Please. Helen, I’ve no one else.’

  He looked so upset and she thought about that day on the moors when he cried at the loss of Jim. ‘All right, come inside.’ In the kitchen she opened the blackout curtains and turned off the gas under the saucepans. Her bath would have to wait. ‘How long have you been standing out there?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ve been here since nine.’

  ‘But it’s nearly twelve. Why didn’t you knock on the door?’

  ‘I could see all the curtains were closed and I didn’t want to wake you.’

  ‘Well, I’m up now and you must be starving. I’ll make us some breakfast.’

  Frank watched her in silence and she said nothing either, even though it was awkward. But she would leave it to him to explain why he was here. They sat at the table and ate the tea and toast; a couple of times he seemed about to say something, then changed his mind. In the end she prompted him. ‘Frank, do you want to speak to me, or not?’ He nodded, she waited…

  ‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about me and Jim. We were mates, all right, but it was more than that… When the bombs are falling you know you could be snuffed out like a candle but, when there’s two of you looking out for each other, you know you’ve got a better chance of coming through the devastation. He had my back and I had his and I swear to God, Helen, I would have given my life to save him and he would have done the same for me.’ He closed his eyes and when he spoke again it was in a whisper. ‘I’d been watching Jim on the ladder but I turned away – believe me – it was only a second, but when I looked again, he was gone.’

  ‘I know that, Frank, but it was an accident, you couldn’t have saved him.’

  ‘Maybe not, but I’ll have to live with that.’ He opened his eyes and looked at her. ‘But then there was you.’

  She was immediately wary of his words. ‘Me?’ she asked. Surely, he wasn’t going to bring up all that nonsense about marrying her?

  He went on. ‘You know I promised Jim I’d look after you if the worst happened and that’s what I tried to do. But somewhere along the line, it all got out of hand. I was terrified something awful would happen to you and that would be my fault too and I’d have let Jim down all over again.’ His voice was rising. ‘I kept coming to your house with all sorts of excuses to see you, to make sure you were safe, but it wasn’t enough. That’s why I wanted to marry you, so I could take proper care of you.’

  She held up her hand. ‘Frank, don’t say any more. I’ve told you I’m not marrying you.’

  ‘No, no, listen. I know that and I…’ He struggled to explain. ‘In a way I do love you, Helen, but I’m not asking you to marry me. It wouldn’t be right for either of us, I know that now, but I don’t want to lose touch with you. You’re still my best mate’s wife, and I want you to know I’ll be here whenever you need me.’

  She sighed. ‘All right, I won’t fall out with you; Jim wouldn’t have wanted that.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  She stood up. ‘Well, I’ll need to get on, I’ve a lot of cleaning to do.’

  He didn’t move. ‘I need to talk to you about something else.’

  She sat down again. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I can’t get Gwen out of my mind. I let her down so badly; I’ll never forgive myself.’ He hesitated. ‘Do you think I should go and see her? I mean, would she speak to me?’

  Helen raised an eyebrow and it was a moment before she could speak. ‘Why would you do that? You made it quite clear to her that you didn’t want to be with her.’

  ‘I know, I know, I was a fool. I thought I didn’t want to get tied down, but now I want to do the right thing. The baby is lost, but we could still have children.’

  She was tempted to tell him Gwen was still carrying the baby, but it wasn’t for her to speak for Gwen. ‘I don’t know what she would say.’

  ‘Could you not speak to her, ask her if she would meet me?’

  A part of her thought she could do that – a go-between. On the other hand, it might not be a good idea to meddle in other people’s lives. If Frank was serious, and he might well be, he was the one who should be making the running and Gwen should make up her own mind whether to believe him or not.

  ‘If you truly love her, Frank, you’ll find your own way to get her back.’

  Chapter 35

  A week passed and Helen had met Sergeant Duffy in the Hidden Gem every day before going to work at the Calico Club, but still she had no conclusive evidence of illegal activity, beyond Anna’s certainty that the bedrooms were in constant use. Helen had tried to see beyond the suspected gaming room door, but a burly man was on duty outside when it was in use.

  Sergeant Duffy was worried. ‘CID won’t want to wait much longer, Helen. They’re talking about a raid and hope that they get lucky.’

  ‘They need to wait. Anna says there’s always something going on at the end of every month. She doesn’t know what, but I’m going to try and find out. It’s all connected with Henry Carter and his cronies from London. Have they dug up anything on him yet?’

  ‘They’ve been in touch with Scotland Yard and they say there’s no one of that name with a criminal record.’

  ‘Maybe he’s kept his nose clean. He’s a smooth character, sounds like a gentleman – looks like a matinee idol in his Savile Row suits.’

  ‘Watch yourself with him, Helen. Didn’t he say he had a special job for you?’

  ‘Yes, and I’m hoping it might give me the chance to find out what Henry Carter is really up to.’

  *

  Helen arrived at the club early but, instead of going in, she stood on the other side of the road and looked at the building. There was something odd about it. Inside, she knew there was the bar, the games’ room, and four bedrooms upstairs. Add to that: office, toilets, storage behind the bar and that was the extent of the Calico Club. She crossed the road and walked down the narrow street at the side of the building and round to the back. There was a loading bay with large doors, heavily padlocked, and high enough for lorries to drive inside. And then it hit her. The back-end of the building was a warehouse.

  She went inside and sat down at the bar where Gerry was replacing the empty optics.

  ‘How was your first week then?’ he said.

  ‘I’ve enjoyed it and it’ll be even better when I get my pay packet.’

  ‘You’ll be surprised at the tips you’ll get; the men are generous.’

  ‘It’s a good bar, better stocked than most I’ve seen.’

  Gerry hesitated. ‘Mr Carter has his contacts.’

  Yes, she thought, no shortage of cigarettes and spirits here.

  ‘He said he might have a different job for me when he comes back.’

  ‘He didn’t mention it to me.’

  ‘I thought it might have been in the other room across the way?’

  ‘I don’t think so, women aren’t allowed in there.’

  ‘What, not at all?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Oh, that’s intriguing.’

  He turned his back and carried on with the optics. She’d get nothing out of him.

  ‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘I’ll go and get the warpaint on. See you later.’

  In the ladies’ toilet Helen laid out her make-up, such as it was. She never wore any when she was in uniform, but even so her stock had diminished. Maybe she could afford some more with her tips. She was about to apply her foundation when something in the mirror caught her eye and she turned to look at the door behind her. If she had noticed it at all in the week she had work
ed here, she would have assumed it was a broom cupboard and naturally it would be closed but, seeing it slightly open, she went to look inside. It was full of everything needed for a really good clean, and there was the cleaner’s pinny hanging on the back of the door. She shook it and couldn’t help but smile.

  The following morning, she was waiting outside the club when a stout, middle-aged woman in an ancient overcoat and headscarf came down the street. Helen greeted her. ‘Hello, are you the cleaner?’ she asked.

  ‘I am, cock, what can I do for you?’

  ‘I’m one of the waitresses and I think I lost my watch here last night; the clasp wasn’t that good, to be honest.’

  ‘Oh dear, do you want to have a look around?’

  ‘Oh, could I?’

  The woman opened the door and they went in together. ‘I’ve a set of keys to the rooms in my cupboard. Where do you want to look?’

  ‘Oh, to be honest, I was here, there and everywhere.’

  The woman took her pinny from behind the broom cupboard door and felt in the front pocket. She took out a bunch of keys and handed them to her. ‘Take your time, love, see if you can find it. I’ll be cleaning in the bar a good while.’

  Helen couldn’t believe her luck. For all the talk of locked rooms, the cleaning woman had all the keys to the castle. She went straight across the hall to the double doors and after a few tries she found the right key. The room was the same size as the bar, with maroon flocked wallpaper and maroon upholstered chairs arranged round various tables. Over the two largest tables there were black dust-covers. She raised one and smiled. There was the roulette wheel. The other revealed a blackjack cloth, and the various smaller tables had decks of cards, probably for poker and other games. She had seen the gaming tables with her own eyes, maybe now there could be a raid.

  It had taken no more than a few minutes, leaving her plenty of time to look around upstairs. There were five doors in total. The first four rooms were similar and decorated in the style of some sort of French boudoir as imagined by a man. The bedclothes were dishevelled and there were full ashtrays, empty bottles and glasses lying about. The final door was set in a roughly plastered wall at the end of the corridor and the lock and key were much heavier. She knew at once it was the dividing wall between the front and back of the building. She turned the key, pulled open the heavy door and stepped out on to the top of a wooden stairway. Half a dozen skylights illuminated the vast open warehouse space below. She went quickly down and found stacked boxes of whisky, gin and cigarettes. Not a huge amount, but maybe there was more to come. She had seen enough.

  She found the cleaner and returned the keys. ‘It was upstairs, thank goodness. Don’t tell the boss, will you? I get in enough trouble.’

  ‘Don’t worry, love. I’m glad you found it.’

  *

  That afternoon Helen sat with Sergeant Duffy in the Hidden Gem. ‘I’m certain the four rooms upstairs are being used as a brothel. I’ve also seen the gaming room with roulette, blackjack, poker tables. There’s no doubt that’s what goes on in there every night.’

  ‘I’ll tell CID, chances are they’ll raid it tonight or tomorrow.’

  ‘No, they mustn’t do that, not yet. There’s something else, something bigger. The back end of the building is a warehouse; I’ve been in it – there are some boxes of spirits and cigarettes, but it’s nearly empty. This club sells so much drink and cigarettes, I can’t imagine where they get it all from. Do you think it could be tied up with all the black-market activity?’

  ‘It could be. There have been rumours of London gangs in Manchester for months.’

  ‘It’s like they’re building up to something in the club. Remember I told you Anna said every month there’s something big goes on. She said the atmosphere changes and, you know, I can feel a tension in the air. Henry Carter and his men are Londoners and they’re due back in Manchester any day now. I wouldn’t be surprised if stolen goods were due to be shipped to the Calico Club warehouse.’

  ‘The DI is desperate for some success, but I’m not sure they’ll hang fire when the gambling would be easy meat.’

  ‘But you have to convince them. If they wait, they could crack a black-market syndicate and that’ll be a far bigger catch than they ever imagined.’

  ‘You’re right, girl. I’ll make them listen. Now keep your ear to the ground, stay in contact and, as soon as you get wind of anything, we’ll pull you out and send in the constables.’

  They stood to go and, to Helen’s surprise, Sergeant Duffy hugged her. ‘You’re doing great work, Harrison, but keep your wits about you. These men are dangerous.’

  That night there was a singer and pianist and the club was packed. They were run off their feet at the bar and several girls had been upstairs in the bedrooms. Helen was taking an order of drinks for a noisy table of four men when she felt an arm around her waist. ‘It’s Helen, isn’t it? Do you remember me?’ She turned and her heart stopped as she looked into the face of Charles Brownlow – the man who wanted to make her his mistress. For one awful moment she thought Fenner might be with him, but she didn’t recognise anyone else. She brazened it out. ‘Sorry, sir, I don’t think so,’ and she turned away.

  She asked another waitress to take the drinks to their table. An hour later she was standing at the bar watching some of the customers dancing with girls when he sought her out. ‘Did you think I’m that stupid that I wouldn’t recognise you? I spotted you as soon as I came in. Your deportment, your striking features, you’re even wearing the same dress, for God’s sake.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Brownlow, I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that I’m a bit embarrassed, doing a job like this.’

  ‘I’m not surprised, you could do so much better, if you’d let me help you.’ And what he said next almost stopped her heart.

  ‘I heard you’d left Fenner’s and, maybe I’m mistaken, but I thought he said you were working for the police?’

  She lowered her eyes, hiding the panic in her face. Then she felt his finger on her chin as he tilted her face upwards.

  ‘You’re not doing two jobs, are you?’

  She looked him in the eye. ‘Of course not. I did think about the police, but the wages were poor. Anyway, I’d rather be doing this and earning twice as much.’

  He gave her a quizzical look, but she couldn’t be sure whether it was because he didn’t believe her or he was just weighing her up. Then he smiled. ‘I’m sure you’ll want to dance with an old friend.’

  He held her close and let his hand slip lower and lower over her curves. Then he kissed her neck and whispered, ‘I know it must be so hard for you, being a widow, and now you’ve ended up waitressing and no doubt have other duties.’

  She ignored the innuendo. ‘The thing is, I didn’t tell my godmother Pearl or Mr Fenner that I’d ended up doing this. I don’t think they’d approve, so, could I ask you not to mention it to anyone?’

  ‘I’d need to think about that.’ He danced her around the floor before he spoke again. ‘I’ve heard that you girls sometimes go upstairs with the customers? Maybe we could do that?’

  She was horrified at the thought and was tempted to slap his face, but she held her nerve. She had to get through these next few days before the raid without drawing attention to herself. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Brownlow, I’ve been told that I’m not allowed to do that yet. I have to serve my time getting to know how the waitressing works first.’

  ‘That’s a pity,’ he said. ‘But maybe I could be first on the list when the time comes.’

  Helen managed a smile.

  Chapter 36

  Pearl slipped away from her desk into the showroom and stood looking out over Stevenson’s Square. There was Harold on the opposite pavement looking agitated. He had been waiting there for a good twenty minutes. She knew that, because she had made Rita file a fistful of invoices before she allowed her to go for her dinner. There she was now, running across the road, and Pearl winced to see her kiss him right there
in public. But they had long since stopped being discreet. He was besotted with the hussy, buying her gifts and renting hotel rooms; she could see that from the business cheque book. Now, they were laughing together as they walked arm in arm to the taxi rank. She couldn’t take much more of this.

  An hour later Rita appeared at the office door, the cocky look gone from her face.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting you back for another two hours. Had a fall-out, have you?’

  ‘Mr Fenner’s taken ill.’ She looked close to tears. ‘I’m to tell you, you’ve to go and help him right away.’

  Pearl was already reaching for her coat and scarf. ‘Where is he?’

  Rita looked terrified.

  ‘Tell me where he is!’

  ‘He’s at your house.’

  ‘What the hell is he doing in my—’ And then she knew. ‘He took you to my house? How long have you been going there? No, don’t answer that, just get out of here and never come back!’

  ‘But Mr Fenner said—’

  ‘Just get out. Get out!’

  On the bus to Ardwick, the rage grew inside her. I’ll give him a piece of my mind, sick or not sick, the bastard. This can’t go on; I’ll have it out with him. I’ve a good mind to tell his wife. She’s known about me for years, but she’ll be furious to hear he’s found himself yet another woman, not even a woman, a girl.

  She put the key in the lock and opened the door. ‘Harold, where are you?’ No answer. She went through to the kitchen. Everything was just as she had left it. He must be upstairs. ‘Harold!’

  The bedroom curtains were drawn, but she could just see him lying naked on the bed, his back to her. ‘For God’s sake, Harold.’ She switched on the light and walked round the bed. Her heart stopped at the sight of the blood on his face, his chest, and the bedclothes sodden with it. He was dead.

  She stood where she was: didn’t touch him; didn’t cover him; didn’t cry. Time passed. She shivered. Then she went out of the house to the telephone box on the corner and rang for an ambulance.