‘You’ll regret this, I promise you.’
‘I’m already regretting it.’ With that she opened the front door and pointed to the cold black night. ‘Like I said… don’t ever come round here again.’
As he brushed past her, he murmured, ‘You’re a fool, Rosie!’
‘No,’ she corrected him, ‘I’ve been a fool. Not any more though.’ That said, she physically pushed him out of the door and closed it against him.
While Rosie returned to her cosy parlour, Robert climbed into his car, his face like thunder and his heart as black as night. ‘You’ll be sorry, Rosie.’ He smiled, his white teeth shining in the moonlight. ‘You will be sorry!’ He started the engine, and was still smiling wickedly as he turned out of the street.
Rosie had made a bad enemy. The consequences of this night would turn her world upside down.
Chapter Nineteen
Adam had interviewed at least twelve suitable men since Monday. It was now six o’clock on Friday evening and he was facing the final candidate. The man seated before him was in his early-thirties, broad of back and experienced in the coal-business. ‘You’ll have no cause to complain about me,’ he promised now. ‘Like I said, Mr Roach, I can lift a full sack of coal better than any man. I use a shovel like it were part of my own arm, and I’m trustworthy as they come.’
‘Do you have a family?’ Almost the minute this man had walked through the door, Adam had taken to him. Over the years he had learned to trust his instincts. He trusted them now, believing Roger Leyton to be the kind of fellow he was looking for. Built like a bull elephant, he was also likeable and intelligent.
A flicker of doubt crossed the man’s face. ‘I have a woman,’ he said. ‘Hopefully, the family will come later.’
‘I see.’ Adam had sensed the man’s change of mood, and realised there was something painful there. Never one to pry where he wasn’t wanted, he stood up to shake the man’s hand. ‘I’m glad you responded to the advert,’ he said.
The man looked disappointed. ‘Will I hear from you?’
Adam walked him to the door. As the man passed to leave, he told him, ‘Report to me at six o’clock four weeks from Monday. The job’s yours if you want it.’
Relief appeared on the man’s face. ‘How can I thank you?’
‘By proving I’ve done the right thing in taking you on.’
‘I’ll do that right enough, don’t you worry,’ he said. Then he crossed the yard at a run and went down the street whistling a merry tune.
Ned looked up as Adam approached. ‘By the look of it, you’ve given him the job.’
‘He were the best man for it, that’s why.’ Slapping Ned on the back, Adam invited him inside. The yard was empty now. As usual, Ned was the last to leave.
Dropping his shovel into the bay, he shook the coal-dust from his clothes and followed Adam through to the office. ‘Now then, happen you’ll tell me what you’re up to?’ he suggested, pointing his thumb to the outer yard. ‘There’s no vacancy out there, yet you’ve taken on four new men to start in a month’s time. There’s summat up, ain’t there, you artful bugger?’
While Ned talked, Adam brewed a strong pot of coffee. He poured the dark liquid into the mugs, adding milk and sugar as he pondered on Ned’s words. ‘You’re right,’ he began. ‘There is summat up, as you put it.’ Handing Ned one of the mugs, he took his own and sat on the edge of the desk. ‘I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know when I remind you how a man by the name of Len Sutcliffe has carved quite a business for himself. To tell you the truth, Ned, if I hadn’t nipped in there when I did, he’d have snapped up many of the big contracts.’
‘Len Sutcliffe?’ Ned’s expression hardened. ‘By! He spreads his wings, don’t he, eh? That bugger has a habit o’ moving in on the lame, and sucking at their blood, and I should know. Thanks to you, though, he got his nose pushed well out of joint, I’m happy to say.’
Adam took a long warming gulp of his coffee, his dark eyes regarding Ned over the brim of his mug. Presently, he put the mug on the table before saying, ‘Well now, you might be happy to know that he’s got his own comeuppance, because I’ve just bought him out, lock, stock and barrel.’ He grinned widely, cocking his head at Ned, and taking delight in the look that came over the other man’s face.
Ned was on his feet in an instant. ‘You sly bugger, and you never said a word!’ he cried jubilantly. Wrapping his two huge hands over Adam’s, he shook it up and down. ‘By! But you’re a canny businessman, Adam Roach, that you are!’
‘There’s still a lot to sort out. And I’m keeping the name Sutcliffe’s,’ Adam informed him. ‘At least until I’ve got it running on the straight and narrow. It’s a well-respected name, and there are still those who are fiercely protective of Sutcliffe himself. There are debts to settle and bridges to cross before I’ll risk putting my own name on the trucks and letter-heads.’
Ned was back in his seat now, his brow furrowed as he listened to Adam’s plans. ‘I think you’re right,’ he agreed. ‘Sutcliffe is a powerful name in coal-merchanting, and there are still those who haven’t forgiven you for snatching my contracts from under his nose.’ Leaning forward, he asked in a low voice, ‘But what of Sutcliffe himself? You must know he’s the kind of man who wouldn’t hesitate to spread the poison about. It wouldn’t matter a jot to him that you’d saved his bacon. He’s a spiteful nasty bugger when all’s said and done.’
‘You’ve no need to worry on that score,’ Adam told him confidentially. ‘I’m one step ahead of him there. It’s all written into the contract of sale. One false move from him, one malicious word in the wrong quarter, and it’ll cost him every penny he’s got.’ Adam levelled his gaze at the other man. There was something more important he had to say. ‘As far as I understand, Sutcliffe intends to move right away. However, we do have another problem, and I’m hoping you can help me there, Ned.’ Since the deal was done, Adam had agonised over a particular quandary. To his mind, there was only one man besides himself who could turn Sutcliffe’s business around. That man was Ned. But, for various reasons, Adam was reluctant to broach the subject. But broach it he must, so taking a deep breath, he declared confidently, ‘I want you to run the Sutcliffe contracts.’
Ned was shocked silent. He stared at Adam with quizzical eyes, then dropped his gaze to the floor. ‘I can’t do it,’ he said.
Adam couldn’t hide his disappointment. ‘I understand,’ he replied. ‘I had to ask though, but I don’t want you to fret on it.’ Ned shook his head. ‘I’d like to help you out, son,’ he said sorrowfully, ‘because God knows you’ve done enough for me. But it’s memories, you see? I honestly don’t think I could go back.’
‘Then it’s enough said, and I’m sorry I asked you. It was wrong of me to put you in that position.’ Secretly, Adam still hoped Ned would reconsider. He felt it would be good for him to face the things that haunted him still, and he could only do that if he went back to where it had all taken place. Besides, with Doug in prison, it would be comforting for Rosie to have Ned close at hand.
Still, he respected and loved the older man, and right now, he half regretted ever raising the subject. ‘Tell you what,’ he said, his mind racing ahead with an idea, ‘why don’t you and I meet in the pub later, have a pint or two, and you can give me the benefit of your experience? After all, I’ve a mountain of decisions to make in the next month.’
Ned shook his head. ‘I’ve already decided to have a night in,’ he apologised. ‘But I’m here now, so if you’ve any other ideas to bounce off me, I’m in no hurry.’
Adam laid out his plans then for how he meant to build up Sutcliffe’s round and eventually merge it with his own. He told Ned he intended to send four of his most trusted and able men to get it off the ground. ‘I’ve yet to approach them about it, but none of them has a family, and as far as I can tell, they’d have no objection to a spell away. The four new recruits will come here in their place.’
‘And who will you se
nd to manage?’ In spite of himself, Ned was curious. Not realising that Adam had counted on that, he fell headfirst into the trap.
‘If you didn’t want it, I thought maybe Jack Rutherford. He’s been with me from the start, and he knows the business inside out. He’s good with figures, and seems to get on with everybody.’
‘That’s just it, son.’ Ned shook his head.
‘You’re saying you’ve got reservations about him?’
‘Like you say, he’s a good man. But I work with him on the ground, and I reckon he falls short of what makes a good manager.’
‘Oh?’ In fact, Adam already knew what Ned was getting at. Though Jack was an excellent man in many ways, he was not managerial material. Suggesting him for the job was Adam’s way of drawing Ned out. ‘I reckon he’d be ideal.’
Ned shook his head again. ‘You’re wrong, son,’ he insisted, standing up to make the point. ‘He’s too pally. A manager has to raise himself above that, while at the same time being accessible to the workers. It’s all a matter of balance… discipline with respect.’ He groaned. ‘I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that?’
‘I’m sorry, Ned, I don’t agree,’ Adam fibbed. ‘As far as I’m concerned, Jack’s the only other man for the job. I intend to put it to him at the first opportunity.’ Walking to the door, he thanked Ned. ‘I hear what you say, but this time we’ll have to agree to differ,’ he remarked craftily. He then repeated his invitation for Ned to join him in the pub later.
‘No. Like I said, I’m in for an early night.’ Ned’s voice was sharp and he didn’t look up when he spoke.
Adam saw that as a good sign. ‘Goodnight then. See you Monday,’ he said. When Ned had gone, he closed the office and went through to the living-room where April was waiting for him.
‘Daddy kiss,’ she said, wrapping her arms round his neck when he picked her up.
‘There’s a man waiting to see you,’ Mrs Jessup told him as she lifted the child from his arms. ‘I’ve put him in the library.’
The man was the private detective hired by Adam to trace Connie. ‘I’ve found her,’ he said, ‘but it’s not good news, I’m afraid.’
‘You mean she won’t co-operate?’ Adam was at the end of his patience where Connie was concerned.
‘I mean she can’t co-operate.’ He explained, ‘She’s in a bad way. According to the doctors, it’s only a matter of days, hours even.’
Adam was frantic. ‘Why in God’s name didn’t you phone me?’
‘Because I thought it more appropriate to bring that kind of news personally. Besides, there’s no time wasted. I only just found out myself, and I’ve come straight here.’
‘Which hospital?’ Reaching for the telephone, Adam began dialling. ‘How long has she been there? Dear God! What happened?’
‘She’s in the Liverpool General… been there about three days, according to the pub landlord.’ He could have told Adam that Connie had been earning a living as a prostitute, but in the circumstances he thought better of it. ‘Run over she was, that’s all I could find out.’
Just as suddenly as Adam had snatched the phone up, he slammed it down again. ‘No answer!’ He groaned. ‘Look, get yourself off to this address.’ Feverishly scribbling into a notepad, he read out the name and address of Connie’s husband. ‘Give him this note.’ Handing the scrap of paper to the little man, he ordered, ‘Be as quick as you can.’
Even before the other man was out of the door, Adam had informed Mrs Jessup that he didn’t know when he would be back. In another minute he was in his car and heading towards Liverpool General. Being Friday night, the workers were pouring out of the factories and many of the roads out of town were busy with traffic. The journey seemed never-ending, and he knew he would not forget it for as long as he lived. He had sent for Connie’s husband, but he wasn’t too hopeful that the man would have either the decency or the inclination to come. There was too much hatred there, too much water had flowed under the bridge.
He prayed all the way there, and when he was taken to see the doctor in charge, felt physically sick when told, ‘I’m sorry, Mr Roach, but there is nothing else we can do.’ As he walked towards the side ward, the doctor’s words rang in his mind… Nothing else we can do… nothing else we can do. Try as he might, he couldn’t believe that Connie was on her deathbed. Connie, that wild vibrant creature who could always laugh in the face of adversity; Connie, unfettered and free, madly infuriating, the waif who could never cope with responsibility; alive and laughing, forever young and devil-may-care. ‘Dying?’ The word fell from his lips. ‘No!’ His protest was lost in the clatter all about him. Nurses going about their daily work, doctors rushing back and forth, the lady down the corridor pushing a tea-trolley and humming a merry melody. And Adam, striding towards the room where Connie was, afraid and angry all at the same time. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be!
Everything the doctor had said played over and over in his mind. According to their information, Connie had been drunk and dazed when she wandered into the road. ‘There are several witnesses who all say that she didn’t even look where she was going… could hardly stand up, said one.’ The doctor went on to explain how, when the lorry hit her, Connie’s internal organs were crushed beyond repair, ‘I’m so sorry,’ he finished. And the sorrow showed in his face.
Coming into the side ward, Adam was taken aback by the sight that met his eyes. A frail bruised figure lay buried beneath swathes of bandages. ‘Gently does it,’ warned the nurse, ‘We’ve given her the strongest painkillers, but I’m afraid she’s still in great discomfort.’
While the nurses discreetly withdrew, Adam came closer. There were tears in his eyes as he gazed down on what had been the prettiest face, now swollen almost beyond recognition. ‘Oh, Connie… CONNIE!’ Raising his face to the ceiling, he swallowed the choking tears. Inside he was all churned up. All this time he had been trying to find her, to lay all manner of guilt and shame at her door. Well, now it was he who felt guilty. He who was ashamed.
Desolate, he sat in the chair beside her, and held her hand. Somehow the warmth of his touch alerted her, and she opened sad eyes to look at him. ‘Adam.’ The voice was soft and loving, the very same, it had not changed. ‘I knew you’d come to me.’ Squeezing his fingers with surprising strength, she gave the merest glimmer of a smile. It cut him in two.
Returning her smile, he wanted to speak but the words wouldn’t come. His eyes burned with threatened tears. But he knew he must not show them. It was when she said, ‘I don’t mind if you cry,’ that they trickled down his face. ‘What am I going to do with you, eh?’ he asked softly.
‘Hold me,’ she said. And he did, ever so gently.
Taking her in his arms was like gathering a fragment of the past to himself. Like the past she felt brittle and delicate, yet she clung to him ferociously, flesh and blood, memories and regrets, touching his heart and breaking it.
For what seemed a lifetime he held her there, his free hand tenderly stroking her hair and his face close to hers. Suddenly she shivered in his arms and softly laughed. ‘Some women always find the rotters, don’t they?’
‘Don’t think about that now,’ he begged.
Closing her eyes, she smiled. In the smallest whisper she pleaded, ‘Look after her for me.’ Then, before he could answer, she gave a shuddering sigh. When he looked into her quiet contented face, he knew Connie’s suffering was ended for all time. ‘I’ll look after her,’ he promised. And it was a promise from the heart.
‘She left this for you.’ The nurse gave him a note which Connie had dictated. In it she gave Adam all legal rights over her daughter April. ‘Who else could be her father but you?’ she wrote ambiguously. It was plain that she was taking the truth with her to the grave. But, whatever the truth, Connie had secured the child’s future. It was her legacy to Adam, a great big thank you for all he had been to her. More than that, she knew the girl would be safe with this gentle giant, the kindest, strongest man she had ever known.
She would rest now. And he would never forget her.
During the following week, Adam took it on himself to arrange the finest funeral for her. His own work took second place, and everything he had planned was postponed. ‘It can wait,’ he told Ned. ‘Some things are more important than work.’ The hardest thing was how to tell April about her mother.
‘The truth, son,’ Ned advised. ‘You must tell the truth.’ And that was what he did. Two days after Connie died, Adam broke the news to the child, telling her that her mother had been a warm and lovely creature who had placed her only child in his care before going to stay in Heaven. But the child was too young to understand the full impact of what he was saying. She thought on his words, and looked at him with worried eyes, then she threw her arms round his neck and asked in a tearful voice, ‘You’re still my daddy, aren’t you?’
His answer was to hold her close and reassure her, ‘I’ll always be your daddy.’ A moment later she was laughing, and it was as though he had said nothing of Connie to her. But that was the best way, he decided. In the future, he would only talk about Connie if the girl asked. In his heart he was content, and so was she.
It was a bright cold day when Connie was laid to her rest. The mourners numbered two: Ned and Adam. Connie’s husband never came to the hospital. Nor did he turn up for the funeral. And, as far as Adam was concerned, it was just as well. In his heart he knew Connie would not have wanted him there.
Afterwards, when it was all over, Ned told Adam he had made up his mind. ‘Whenever you’re ready,’ he agreed. ‘I feel a need to be near Rosie and the young ’un.’ Something about the events of the past week had raised a great longing in him.
Adam was both delighted and sad. ‘It would help us both to lose ourselves in our work,’ he said. But now he regretted ever asking Ned to take on the new acquisition. For the moment he had a temporary manager running the new contracts, so he would have Ned with him for at least another month. All the same, the thought of losing his friend brought on a great feeling of loneliness. More than that, the idea that Ned would be so near to Rosie, and he so far away, was almost unbearable.
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