‘She looks like a bat,’ whispered little Paddy to Harry and both boys put their hands over their mouths to stifle their giggles.
‘I know what you’re doing here is illegal,’ she said. ‘Is Eric down there? Because if he is, I’m calling the police.’
Jerry’s head jerked back in surprise. ‘If he is?’
‘Aye, you heard me, is he?’
Jerry’s brow furrowed and, lifting his cap, he rubbed his hand across his hair. ‘What if he isn’t? Will you be calling the police then?’
Gladys snorted. ‘No, what you do is your affair. I’m not interested in you but if he’s helping, you’ll all cop it because if I have to walk into Whitechapel myself to do it, I’ll be fetching the police.’
Tommy looked over from the other side of the street. Everyone knew Gladys was trouble but no one really wanted to have to face her.
‘See that,’ said Tommy to Eugene, ‘that’s why Jerry will get the gaffer’s job; he’s a natural leader. He’d face Hitler, that man would.’
Eugene looked across to where Tommy was indicating. ‘To be honest, Tommy, I think most would rather face Hitler than Gladys – she’s a scold, that one.’
Jerry spoke to Gladys in his softest tone, his most conciliatory manner. ‘Gladys, honestly, I’ve no idea where Eric is. Is he not at home? Have you tried the Anchor?’
Jerry did not want to say that he had seen Eric in the Anchor earlier, that was a line men did not cross. No man had ever seen another in the pub when questioned.
‘I’ve been in there and that whore behind the bar with the ton of make-up on her face says she’s never seen him, so he must be here.’
Little Paddy shot out from round the back of Jerry’s legs. Harry grabbed his sleeve to try and stop him, but he was too late. ‘I’ve seen him,’ little Paddy called out. ‘He was kissing Mrs Trott in the entry.’
Harry’s statement stunned the onlookers.
‘Fecking hell,’ Tommy whispered.
‘That kid has a death wish,’ said Eugene.
‘And Eric is a dead man walking,’ said Seamus.
The air trembled as they all stared at Gladys.
‘You what?’ she roared at little Paddy, who no longer felt as confident as he had only seconds before and he said again, with a little less volume, ‘We saw him, didn’t we, Harry?’ He pulled Harry out from behind Jerry to stand next to him. ‘We saw him and he was kissing Mrs Trott.’
It looked to Paddy as though Gladys’s eyes were going to explode and then she said five words before she turned her back on all of them and marched back down the street. ‘He. Is. Dead. To. Me.’
*
Eric stood naked, peeping through the net curtains of Maggie Trott’s bedroom down into the street below. Maggie came and stood at his side and slipped under his arm.
‘If you are regretting this, Eric… don’t,’ she whispered. ‘I understand, you are a married man and one night really was enough for you.’
Eric pulled her into his side. ‘Good job you didn’t say just the once was enough,’ he said as he grinned down at her, ‘for you would already be a liar.’
Maggie laid her head on his shoulder. ‘But it’s an impossible situation, isn’t it?’
Eric took in a deep breath. ‘No, it isn’t. I’m not going to go back to my old life ever again. Even if you don’t want me, Maggie, I have to walk a new path. The old one was destroying me and I can’t go back.’
Eric led her back to the bed. ‘I’ll have to go,’ he said. ‘I have to collect the milk and load up the float and I have to face Gladys. I’m going to tell her everything and my guess is she will pack her bags and move to her sister’s on the Wirral. She’s been looking for an excuse to do that for years, anyway; all she wants is the money. I’ll tell her to take every penny we have and I’ll start over again.’ He tucked the covers in over Maggie’s shoulders.
‘Eric, if she doesn’t, put your bag on the float as well as the milk. You can move in here.’ Her heart raced; she had broken the spell of loneliness and she didn’t want to return to that life ever again. This big giant of a soft and gentle man was the one she wanted to be with.
‘What will they say on the street? I couldn’t bear to ruin your good name,’ he said.
Maggie smiled. ‘Eric, you were married to Gladys – they will be relieved for you, ’tis only the priest who will make life difficult. It’s not like I had to fight for my honour, is it?’
Eric looked down on her and smiled. ‘Maggie, as far as I am concerned, I was never married before God; according to the Holy Catholic Church, I’m probably still a single man.’
Maggie smiled, and freeing her arms from the bedclothes, reached up. ‘It just gets better and better,’ she said in the moment before his lips came down on hers.
*
Dr Cole left Kathleen’s house, smiling. The midwife had called him to check on mother and baby and little was said about the birth. The midwife, no stranger to the acts of desperation mothers were driven into in the face of extreme poverty, was just relieved that Peggy and the baby were still alive.
‘It’s grand to see you back home, Mrs Doherty,’ Dr Cole had said. ‘Mammy said she saw you in the hospital in Galway.’
Maura preened; having the doctor speak to you in the way Dr Cole just had was on a par with being a favourite of the Mother Superior. Her pleasure was heightened by imagining the peevish look on Deirdre’s face had she been there to witness it.
‘Are you staying here tonight?’ Dr Cole asked Peggy, but Maura answered for her. ‘She’s a bit overwhelmed, doctor. There are women now, down at her house, giving it a good clean and getting it ready for the baby. She was a bit of a surprise, that baby, so we’re having to beg, borrow and steal around the streets for a crib and clothes and nappies, but another hour and Peggy will be tucked up in her own bed, won’t you, Peg?’
There was no reply. Peggy was laid back on a pillow Alice had tucked in behind her on the day bed, her eyes closed. She was wearing Kathleen’s clean clothes and Maura and Alice had given her a bed bath, during which Peggy had not spoken a word. Dr Cole fastened the clasps on his bag. ‘I’ll be off, then,’ he said. ‘I saw some… er, activity, as I came up the street so I left the car at the bottom and walked up the entry. I didn’t want to disturb anything.’ He winked at Maura as he spoke.
‘Well, don’t be surprised to find a nice bottle of rum at the surgery tomorrow,’ said Maura and she winked back.
‘What I don’t understand,’ he said as he placed his hat on his head, ‘is why a good Irishman who sails the seven seas like Conor, can’t bring in a nice haul of Irish whiskey, in the name of God, why does it have to be rum?’ They both laughed as he walked through the door and back out into the entry. ‘Goodnight, Mrs Doherty, I’m relieved you are back on the four streets, it’s a better place for you being here.’
Maura watched him retreat until he was swallowed by the darkness. She looked up to the sky before she closed the door. So much had happened since she had arrived home, it was already beginning to feel as though she had never left.
*
It was Conor who saw the torchlight, who let out the short burst whistle, followed by the long, low return and everyone stopped dead. Blinks crept up the gangway to the hold door.
‘What is it?’ he whispered.
Conor was standing in the dark shadow at the side of the deck. ‘There’s torchlight in the administration building, I just saw it sweep across the back. Something’s up. It could be an ambush, it’s not safe, so it’s not.’
Blinks looked out along the dock and towards the long, low hut. ‘Fecking hell. That’s all we need. Conor, we can’t be caught on our first night home, you’ll have a mutiny on your hands. This lot will string you up. They think you risk too much for this lot as it is; you know this cargo should have been dumped.’ Blinks had tipped his head first towards the crew, who were in the hold, and the men on the four streets who were in the dock.
Conor held up his hand. ‘O
ur men needn’t worry. We can hide on the ship and on the first bore we can sail out – they can’t. Every one of them would be in a cell tonight and up before the magistrate tomorrow if there is someone out there.’
Callum appeared at the top of the gangway. ‘What’s going on? Why have we stopped?’
Blinks sounded rattled. ‘Because Conor saw a torchlight in the administration building. It seems our plan of getting rid of Frank the Skank hasn’t worked.’
‘What shall we do then?’ said Callum, who was more afraid of being sent back to prison than he was willing to see the load make it to the top of the steps. He would never be able to win Mary over if that happened. He wanted to get away from the dockside as fast as he could. ‘Shall I go and fetch Jerry? Maura told me she had a message for him when we were pushing Peggy back up. She said they had a visit at the house from Frank the Skank and Heartfelt. They didn’t see her, but she wanted me to tell him.’
‘Good lad, Callum,’ Conor said. ‘There’s something going on down here and I don’t like it. The coast is supposed to be clear and it isn’t. I’m half-expecting to see a fleet of Black Marias coming along the docks. Run as fast as you can, lad.’
Callum grinned. ‘That’s what I do best, Conor.’
*
Tommy and Jerry ran down the steps together, giving instructions to each man as they passed him. ‘Don’t light up your ciggie until we tell you. Don’t move or talk, just wait.’
Jerry gave Conor the whistle once they reached the bottom of the steps. Both men crouched down onto their haunches and made their way like crabs until they were on a level with the administration building. They both stared until their eyes watered, but they saw nothing.
‘Conor is seeing things,’ whispered Tommy, ‘there’s no one there.’
Jerry agreed. ‘I think you’re right but let’s just give it one more minute.’
Just as they were about to leave, their legs aching from crouching in one place, they both saw the dim sweep of torchlight.
‘Feck, right,’ Jerry said, ‘let’s get on our bellies and crawl under the window to where that light came from and see if we can take a gander and find out what is going on.’
In seconds, they were crossing the moonlit slab of concrete that exposed them, aware that all eyes up on the top and all eyes on the ship were watching them. They stopped and, with stealthy moves, shifted into place and then rested their backs against the wall. The two men froze as they heard voices coming from inside. The two men winked at each other in the moonlight as they silently turned and pressed their ears against the wall of the wooden hut.
‘How much is it?’ said Frank the Skank.
‘Nearly two thousand pounds. The dock board don’t even know it’s here. They have a separate account for the rents and trust me to look after it – I just haven’t banked it for a while.’
‘That’s no heart-at-all-felt,’ mouthed Jerry to Tommy.
‘What are you going to do with your share?’ Frank’s voice again.
‘Same as you, matey. I’m going to hold my nerve and tough it out. You can settle your Margaret in once the bailiffs have done their job on Nelson Street and I can help the police with their enquiries. Christ, the return of Tommy Doherty is a godsend, he’s a sitting duck. We were obviously meant to have this and when the coast is clear, I’m off to New Zealand. I’ll wave to you in Australia.’
The two men laughed. ‘How are you going to get it out, Frank? It’s a bit obvious, walking along the dock with a bag that size full of one-pound and ten-shilling notes.’
‘I’m going to drop it out here at the back on the dock. Don’t want to be seen walking out of the front door with it over my shoulder like a bag of swag.’ Frank the Skank began to chuckle. ‘There’s a trolley tucked at the side and I’m going to wheel it to the cutting. Anyone who notices me from on top will think it’s a dead dog from the dock. And when I get there, I have the police car waiting which I got for the week. I said to them, if there’s only me on two docks, I can’t police them properly on foot and they fell for it. I’m going to drive it to our house and store it in the coalhouse. Margaret doesn’t like to get her hands dirty so she never goes down there. But first I’ll plant a small bundle of notes down the back of the Dohertys’ boiler and I’ll find them there myself tomorrow, once the alarm is raised. They didn’t get him for the murder of the priest, but they’ll have him for this.’
Heartfelt let out a long whistle and Jerry and Tommy looked at each other, eyes wide. They heard the sound of wood on wood as a sash window slid open above them and then, as if an angel had appeared and delivered them a heavenly gift, a sack landed in their laps. Both men looked to the left and saw the trolley Frank had talked about. ‘That’ll do nicely, thanks, Frank,’ whispered Tommy with a grin. Their eyes met as the window closed above them. They heard the front door on the street side of the administration building open and close and the sound of footsteps which they assumed to be Heartfelt retreating.
*
When Frank the Skank turned the corner, he visibly jumped as his torch lit up the two men with his sack at their feet. He looked down at the sack then up at the men and licked his thin, tight lips as his hand went to his truncheon.
‘Don’t even try it,’ said Jerry. ‘We know everything. We know you were in the Doherty kitchen and you were heard. It’s the end of the road, Skank.’
Tommy felt his blood boil with anger. ‘You scumbag! You were going to try and nail me, put me down, separate me from my family because of your thieving ways.’
Jerry looked sideways at Tommy; the thought that they were up to no good themselves was lost on his friend. Then he spoke. ‘You can take your money – we are better off without the likes of you two around here, but take this message to Heartfelt…’
Tommy swallowed; he couldn’t believe Jerry was going to let the Skank walk and with the money too.
‘Tell Heartfelt I’ve taken five hundred pounds. You two can have the rest. I’ll be using this to help the people up there who, due to Heartfelt’s mismanagement of the docks, are on half-pay most of the time. There are families who are suffering, kids who aren’t being fed properly because of him, men who do a day’s work on near-empty bellies. You can also tell him that if there are any rent arrears on the four streets, he’s to wipe the slate clean from today – have you got that?’
Frank the Skank didn’t speak.
‘Oh, and tell your wife, never to walk down the four streets again telling us what we can and cannot do, and that goes for you too. Watch my back,’ he said to Tommy as he bent to untie the sack. Then he counted notes until he had what he wanted and handed the money to Tommy. Jerry tied the sack up again and threw it at Frank’s feet. ‘There you go, there’s enough left to do your runner to Australia, but you had better be quick, before one of us pops in to see your Margaret and tell her what you were up to’ – Frank’s mouth dropped and even in the torchlight, Jerry saw the blood leave his face – ‘Oh, aye, we know everything, don’t we Tommy? And just in case you were thinking of bluffing this one out and think you can still blame us…’ He let out a long whistle and looked up the steps. ‘See that there?’ he said.
Frank looked over to the steps and along the ridge. One by one fifty orange flames illuminated the steps and the ridge along the top at the all-clear to light up. ‘They are all our witnesses – they’ve seen everything.’
Frank the Skank looked as though he were in shock. A rat ran along the dock and stopped, sniffing his boot. ‘See, you even smell like shite! Go – go now,’ said Jerry and, picking up the sack, Frank shuffled off and didn’t look over his shoulder once.
Chapter Thirty
The operation ran for three hours by the time they had finished and almost everything was stored neatly and filled Maura’s wash house and backyard. The rest, despite Malcolm’s protestations, was stored in the Seaman’s Stop.
‘If I end up in prison because of this I will never forgive you. I said so, Biddy, didn’t I? I would not h
ave a drop stored in my establishment.’
‘You did, Malcolm, but you would also hate to see the carnival cancelled because there was nothing to hold it on the back of, wouldn’t you? Now stop your moaning and help stack these crates.’
Malcolm, defeated, did as he was told and grumbled all the way through until the call went out for everyone to assemble at the top of the steps, to break open a crate. Callum passed around the bottles, one to each man who had passed the crates up the steps and helped with the operation.
‘One for now, fellas,’ Jerry said. ‘And would you look at this, the best haul ever and a carnival in just over a week.’
Those who had been unable to help and had bided their time in the Anchor, sauntered across the road to hear Jerry speak.
‘Give a bottle to everyone here, Eugene, we have plenty to go around.’
‘Eh, don’t be giving it away for free, Jerry Deane! You’ll be putting me out of business,’ came the call from Babs, there to collect her own bottle, while Malcolm nursed his close to his chest and, looking sideways, saw Biddy grinning.
‘What are you laughing at?’ he said.
‘You,’ said Biddy. ‘You and all your moans and groans and look at you, can’t wait to open that and see what it tastes like, can you?’ Malcolm looked affronted and, not for the first time, wondered was Biddy a mind reader.
Callum saw Mary standing alone. She was tired, but she didn’t care. When the streets suffered, they were all in pain. The good times were few and far between and, when one arrived, she was happy to be in the middle of it. Callum moved across the back of the crowd and stood next to her.
‘You’ve worked hard tonight,’ he said.
Mary suppressed her desire to laugh. ‘All women work hard,’ she said.
Callum looked hurt. ‘Aye, but not many work like you do. I’ve watched you for a long time and I’ve always liked you, Mary, but you were always working.’
Mary turned to look at him. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘It’s been my lot but I’m going to change something, Callum, I’m going to choose myself what work it is I do from now on. Someone else has always decided for me.’ She smiled, to reassure him that she meant no offence.
Coming Home to the Four Streets Page 29