‘I shouldn’t think there’s any danger of that,’ he assured her. ‘Their kind take great pleasure in knocking women about… but they’ve no stomach when it comes to trading fists with other men.’ Examining the tear on her chin, he thought it wasn’t too bad considering. But she was shocked and bruised.
‘What’s your address? I’d best see you home before you get into any more trouble.’
‘No address. Sorry.’
‘What do you mean? You’ve got a home, haven’t you?’
‘Nope.’ The bruise on her face was beginning to swell. Beneath those wonderful dark eyes, she grew embarrassed. ‘It’s not your problem, and I’m sorry you were caught up in mine.’ She made an effort to stand but almost fell over. ‘Don’t worry. I can look after myself.’
‘Hmph! Looks like it.’ Cupping her elbow with his hand, he helped her across the room. Outside, he told her, ‘Wait there. I’ll get us a taxi.’ Stepping off the kerb, he peered up and down the street. It was only minutes before he’d hailed a cab and they were on their way to Dell Place.
As he helped her up the stairs to his room, she wondered what a man like this was doing in such a rundown place. ‘How long have you lived here?’ she wanted to know.
‘Too long. And I know what you’re thinking.’ Recalling how the thief had turned the place upside down, he half smiled. ‘When you see inside, you might wish I’d left you in the street.’
When the door was opened to reveal the mess the thief had made, she was open-mouthed. ‘God Almighty! It’s a bloody pig-sty!’
Depositing her in the nearest chair, he confessed, ‘I should have cleaned the place up. Truth is, I was burgled, and I was so bloody mad, I couldn’t think straight.’
‘So you thought you’d go out and get drunk?’
‘Something like that.’ Going to the sink, he swilled a corner of the towel with water from the tap. ‘The bastard took two weeks’ hard-earned wages and a handsome bonus. On top of that I’ve lost my job.’ He dabbed so hard at her face that she cried out. ‘Hey! It weren’t me that robbed you.’
Shamefaced, he apologised. Dabbing more gently at her face with the cloth, he explained, ‘It’s just that the money was for starting up my own business.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘So am I.’ Lifting her fair hair, he examined the side of her temple. ‘You’re lucky he didn’t split your skull open.’
‘Serves me right. I thought it would be easy. I was wrong.’
‘You mean you haven’t… done it… before?’
‘Solicited, you mean?’ She smiled and he was astonished at her beauty. ‘No, I’ve never done it before. I only arrived in Liverpool this morning… it’s taken me years to summon the courage to leave my old man… another coward who likes to knock women about.’ She stood up then. ‘I’ve taken enough of your time and you’ve got your own troubles. I’ll be on my way.’
‘Oh, and where will you go?’ He had taken a liking to her.
‘I’ll find somewhere.’
‘You could stay here.’
Feigning shock, she teased, ‘And here was I thinking you couldn’t get me out of the door fast enough, when all the time you can’t wait to get me in bed!’
‘I should throw you out the door,’ he said with a grin, ‘but you’re welcome to stay, at least for tonight. Tomorrow you’ll feel better able to find yourself a place.’ Pointing to the settee, he explained, ‘As for getting you into bed, that’s where I’ll be sleeping.’
Without a word she got out of her chair and began clearing the mess up. ‘You don’t have to do that,’ he protested. Going to the sink, he washed her blood from the corner of the towel and hung it over the rail. Then he flung his coat off, hung it on the hook behind the door and set about tidying up with her. ‘I’d like to get my hands on the bastard who did this,’ he muttered.
Replacing a drawer, she paused to look at him. ‘Judging by the leathering you gave the man in the bar, I reckon the burglar can count his lucky stars you didn’t get your hands on him.’
He smiled wryly, but remained silent all the while they were clearing up. Later, when the room was ship-shape, Adam insisted she sat down while he made her a cup of tea. ‘Nothing stronger, I’m afraid,’ he apologised. ‘As a rule I’m not a drinking man… one with my mates on a Friday night and that suits me fine.’ Handing her a mug of tea, he stretched himself out in the chair beside her, wondering how he would ever get started in business now, with no job and a good chunk of his money gone.
Connie had been secretly watching him. It occurred to her that such a man ought to have a woman sharing his life. ‘Do you have a family?’
‘No.’
‘Parents? Wife? You must have somebody?’
‘No.’
‘But that’s terrible!’
‘There are worse things.’ His smile was cynical.
‘I can’t think of any.’
‘Oh, I can.’
‘Such as?’
‘Never knowing where you are. Being brought up in a succession of children’s homes. Going into the forces and being afraid to come out in case you’re lost again. Coming home early to be told your sweetheart is expecting your best friend’s child and they’re to be wed. Working yourself to the bone with the dream of someday being your own boss. And then having your hard-earned wages pinched by some lazy bugger who’s probably never done a hard day’s work in his life, and never intends to!’
Sensing the frustration in him, she simply said, ‘I see what you mean.’
There followed an uncomfortable silence until she asked, ‘What will you do now? I mean, what with all your money stolen and no job. Fresh air won’t pay the rent.’
Collecting her cup he went to the sink where he swilled the crockery under the tap. ‘I’m not broke,’ he answered, at once wondering why he should confide in a complete stranger. ‘I have money put by… money I’ve been saving for a business venture.’ ‘What kind of business venture?’ She came to stand beside him. Taking up the kitchen cloth, she wiped the cups and placed them on the drainer.
‘I had visions of being a coal-merchant.’ Seeing the surprise in her face, he added with a chuckle, ‘Oh, it’s not glamorous, and happen it won’t make me a millionaire, but it’s all I know, apart from Army life. And it’s good honest work. What’s more, there is money in it, if you think on a big enough scale.’
‘And you meant to do that?’
‘The thinking’s already done. I meant to have a fleet of my own coal-wagons.’ He chuckled. ‘They’d all be sign-written in big bold letters: ADAM ROACH, COAL-MERCHANT. In time I would have bought out every small merchant for miles around.’
‘And now?’
The smile fell from his face and was replaced with a resolute expression. ‘I haven’t altogether given up. Not yet.’
She half smiled. ‘Somehow I can’t see you as a loser.’
Laughing, he pinched his finger and thumb together. ‘I’m that close,’ he admitted. But, after talking it through, he knew he could never give up his ambitions. ‘You’re right,’ he said finally, recalling what she had told him in the bar.
‘Oh?’
‘You are a good listener.’
She gazed up at him, her face suddenly serious. ‘I’m a good lover too,’ she whispered boldly.
To Connie he was just a man, though not quite like any other she had met, and she needed a man. Men were like a magnet to her, but there could be no in between; they were either friends or lovers. She didn’t want a full relationship, and the thought of being committed to one man frightened her like nothing else. Now that she had won her freedom, she meant to keep it. All the same, in this instance she was sorely tempted. ‘What I said at the bar,’ she reminded him softly. ‘The offer’s still open.’
For a long moment he continued to gaze at her. There was no denying he was attracted to her and God alone knew how much he needed someone, but not anyone, he reminded himself. His heart was too full of Rosie. Just as he had not al
together given up on his ambitions, neither had he given up on her; though for the life of him he couldn’t see a happy ending to it all. ‘It’s nothing personal, Connie, but the answer’s still the same. No thanks.’
She didn’t answer. Instead, she nodded her head wisely and returned to the settee where she spread herself out. Taking a box of matches and a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, she lit one up and all the while her pretty blue eyes followed his every move. When he went to the window, she saw how he stared out, as though expecting someone to walk up the street towards him. ‘Want a cigarette?’ she asked, holding out the pack of Woodbines. He shook his head but didn’t look round. ‘Okay. Suit yourself,’ she said, thrusting them back into her pocket.
Adam was shocked to see how the night had closed in. He and Connie had talked for so long that the time had flown by without his realising. ‘It’s late,’ he said abruptly. Striding into the bedroom area, he could be heard moving about until a few minutes later he returned, carrying crumpled sheets. ‘I’m allowed only one set of clean sheets a week,’ he explained. ‘I’ve stripped the bed.’ Indicating the laundry in his arms, he went on, ‘These will do me. You’ll find clean ones at the foot of the bed.’
‘Won’t you need a blanket?’ She was on her feet now, stubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray.
‘I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.’
‘We could cuddle up together? Or we could talk, if you’d rather. I’m not ready to go to bed yet.’
‘Goodnight, Connie,’ he said firmly. To tell the truth he wouldn’t have minded sitting up a while and talking. She was easy company, and he hadn’t talked to a woman in that way for so long. But he felt he had disclosed enough of his life to her. Somehow she had managed to get under his skin. That troubled him.
‘Okay,’ she said, peeking through the curtains. ‘It’s just that where I come from, one good turn deserves another, and if it hadn’t been for you, I’d probably be dossing out there on the streets.’
He turned to smile on her and she felt cheated. He was so handsome. ‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ he promised.
‘Well, you know where I am if you want me.’ When he didn’t answer, she closed the curtains and undressed. The act of sliding off her clothes felt sensuous. Sighing, she roved her hands over her warm firm breasts. ‘You’re sure you won’t share the bed with me?’ she asked hopefully. ‘I promise not to pinch all the blankets.’ When he laughed, she was encouraged to open the curtains and look out, making certain that one of her breasts was exposed. He was stripped to the waist, his broad chest tanned and muscular. His beauty took her breath away. ‘We could keep each other warm,’ she said invitingly.
‘Goodnight, Connie,’ he told her determinedly, quietly chuckling when she sighed longingly and closed the curtains.
Taking off his trousers, he lay on the settee and covered himself with the sheets. Connie was right, he thought, shivering, it did get chilly of a night. All the same it wasn’t long before he was deep in sleep. The booze still lay heavy on him. Since ploughing all his wages into the bank, he wasn’t used to upending the number of pints he’d sunk tonight.
* * *
He dreamed of Rosie, but she was always out of reach. Yet tonight in his deepest dreams, he felt her touch him. She was warm and soft, and his passions were roused. Half-asleep, he got off the settee and into the bed. ‘I thought you’d never find your way in here,’ Connie told him. Seeing him now in all his glory, she knew the wait had been worth it.
Hungry for the love of a woman, he played with her awhile, enjoying the velvet texture of her flesh and exploring her until she gasped with pleasure. When, thrilled and impatient, she cried out for him, he pushed himself into her. Their mating was fiery, almost angry. When it was over they fell away from each other, exhausted and immensely satisfied.
In the morning, he could hardly look at her. ‘It won’t happen again,’ he said grimly. The muscles in his face were like chiselled stone.
She too realised it had been a mistake. Not because she hadn’t enjoyed it, because she had. Making love with Adam was something beautiful. But she knew he was not making love to her. Even in the throes of ecstasy, she sensed that he was somewhere else. His mind was on the sweetheart he had lost to his best friend. ‘I’m sorry,’ she told him now, ‘I’ll get out.’
He stopped her then. ‘The fault was mine.’ He was at the sink shaving. When he turned, the blade nicked his chin and a trickle of blood ran down his chest, but he appeared not to notice. ‘You don’t have to go.’
She smiled. ‘Oh, I see. I’m welcome in your room, but not in your bed?’
Returning her smile, he agreed. ‘That’s about the size of it, but you can stay until you find somewhere else. I don’t want to be responsible for you walking the streets.’
‘But we can’t be lovers?’
‘Not wise.’
‘Because you still love your sweetheart?’
He looked away, and for a moment she thought she had gone too far. But then he said softly, ‘You’re a very perceptive woman, Connie Wilson.’
‘Friends then?’
‘I think so, yes… friends.’ Giving her a quizzical look, he asked, ‘Have you given any thought to what I said before? About giving up the idea of soliciting?’
‘Yeah. I’ve thought about it. But to be honest, I can’t see myself washing up dishes in some hotel kitchen, and believe me, there isn’t much else.’
‘Perhaps you haven’t tried hard enough?’
‘Look. I won’t try and run your life, if you don’t try and run mine.’
Laying the razor on the edge of the sink, he splashed his face with cold tapwater and towelled it dry. ‘Two conditions then. You don’t bring your “clients” back here, and I’ll expect you to pay a full share of the rent.’
Laughing, she stretched out her arms. ‘A deal!’ With that she waited her turn at the sink. A few minutes later, she threw on her jacket and went jauntily out of the room. ‘See you later,’ she called. And he couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d made a rod for his own back.
* * *
During the following week, while Adam trudged miles looking for work, Connie proved her worth. She kept to their agreement, and though she soon became popular with the many men she canvassed, she never brought them home. When Adam returned, footsore and weary, she would have a meal waiting for him, and a big smile that lightened his heart. ‘You don’t have to cook for me,’ he told her, but she insisted, and so it became a regular pattern. They dined together, and laughed together; they discussed their fears and hopes, and soon became firm friends. She paid her way and even bought odd items of furniture for the flat.
One Friday night she proudly showed him the new floral curtains that decorated the windows. ‘What do you think?’ she asked, beaming from ear to ear.
‘You know what I think,’ he remarked, ‘I object to you spending your money on this place.’
‘But it’s our home, and I want it to look nice.’
‘Aw, Connie! If it belonged to us it would be a different matter. But it doesn’t, so as far as I’m concerned, it’s as good as money down the drain.’ An unpleasant thought crossed his mind. Glancing furtively at the door, he warned her, ‘For God’s sake don’t let the landlord see how you’re tarting this place up, or he’ll want extra rent.’
She laughed at him. ‘Don’t you worry about him,’ she said winking knowingly. ‘He and I have an understanding.’
Groaning, Adam told her that was the worst thing she could have done. ‘Never on your own doorstep, isn’t that what they say?’
‘Oh, it’s all right. I’ve got him eating out of my hand. In fact, I’m tempted to ask for a reduction in the rent.’
‘No! The rent is my department. Look, Connie, are you sure you know what you’re doing?’
‘Of course I’m sure. You don’t think I’d do anything to cause you trouble, do you?’ She began to explain her relationship with the landlord, saying how he was “a good soul at h
eart”.
Groaning, he pleaded, ‘That’s enough, Connie. I don’t want to know any more. Our landlord isn’t the angel you make him out to be, and if you’d been around this neighbourhood longer, you’d realise he’s a bad lot. To be honest, I think you’re making a grave mistake getting involved with him, but it’s your life, and I’ve never pretended to be your keeper.’
‘Quite right,’ she answered cheekily, ‘I’m done with having keepers. And my life is my own.’ Her mood had changed. ‘I’ll get your meal,’ she said sharply, beginning to make her way to the oven. ‘And don’t tell me I shouldn’t cook for you because I like to!’ she snapped. ‘So you’d better bloody well enjoy it!’
Taking a steaming meat pie from the oven, she placed it on top. The gravy ran down the sides as she sliced a huge chunk off and placed it on a large white plate; to this she added a helping of cabbage and a scoop of roasted potatoes from the tin. That done, she enacted the same procedure for herself, with a smaller slice of pie and fewer vegetables. ‘I’m a good cook if nothing else,’ she declared, carefully setting the plates on the table. ‘It’s your favourite.’ That was something she had soon discovered. She also knew he had a large birthmark on his thigh, and he was ticklish just under his right rib. ‘Aw, look, I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘We’re good mates. I don’t want to have bad feelings between us.’
‘Neither do I,’ he confessed. ‘And, like I say, you do what you like. It’s no business of mine… unless it threatens the very roof over our heads.’
‘Surely you don’t think that?’
‘I don’t know what to think. All I know is, you’re playing a dangerous game.’
Smiling, she told him, ‘Ain’t that what makes life interesting?’ He couldn’t help but return her smile. She was like a child. ‘I worry about you,’ he confessed.
‘Well, don’t! I can take care of myself.’ During the meal she admitted, ‘Perhaps you’re right and I shouldn’t have struck up a relationship with the landlord. But, honest to God, he’s not as bad as people make him out to be.’
More Than Riches Page 11