The Midwives of Lark Lane

by Pam Howes

  ‘Did you speak to Eloisa?’ Cathy asked, following him over to the caravan, where Maria was sitting on the steps with a delicate china cup in her hands. She was turning it this way and that and frowning, tutting every few seconds.

  ‘Reading the tea leaves?’ Gianni said, making her jump.

  ‘Oh, Gianni, I had no idea you were there. I’m just seeing if there’s anything good about to happen today but all I can see is—’

  ‘Danger,’ Luca said for her as he appeared at the top of the steps, and rolled his eyes.

  ‘You should not mock me,’ Maria scolded.

  ‘But you see danger in everything you look at, love,’ Luca said as Gianni and Cathy hid their smiles. ‘You always have done.’

  ‘And I am always right. Is that not so?’

  ‘Well it depends on who you’re doing readings for. I mean, you told Lenny’s wife he was seriously ill the other week when he said he’d got a pain in his foot. She’d all but got him dead and buried and was dusting off the policies. Turns out he had an ingrown toenail.’

  ‘Yes and it was turning septic. If he hadn’t come to me, he might have died before he’d got help. You mock me but we’ll see. There is something not good in the air right now. Mark my words.’

  ‘Yes, dear,’ Luca said. ‘I’m listening. Anyway, here’s my little nurse, Lucy. Come to Grandpa, my darling.’

  He held out his arms and Gianni lifted Lucy down and passed her to his dad.

  ‘Is Eloisa around?’ Gianni asked. ‘I need a quick word with her.’

  Maria looked at her watch. ‘She should be on her stall now getting ready for opening.’

  ‘Thanks. Can we just leave Lucy with you for a few minutes?’

  ‘Of course. I’ll take her on one of the little rides. I’ll call out for one of you if I’m needed in my tent for fortune-telling.’

  ‘We won’t be long, and then Cathy will take her from you.’ Gianni grasped Cathy’s hand as they walked across to Eloisa’s stall.

  She was busy with a customer, so Gianni and Cathy stood close by watching. Her assistant Tony nudged her as she finished and she looked across, her cheeks pinking slightly. She swept her long hair back over her shoulders and came out from behind the stall with a swish of floaty skirts, her low-cut top revealing her deep cleavage. Eloisa looked at Gianni, her heavy-lidded eyes roving up and down his body. Cathy held his hand tightly, aware of how sexy her handsome husband looked in his show outfit of tight black leather trousers and red satin shirt. His dad and Marco wore the same, but Gianni looked the best, she thought.

  ‘What can I do for you, Gianni?’ Eloisa said with a smirk. She deliberately ignored Cathy and licked her glossy red lips as she continued to stare at him.

  ‘You can tell me what you did with my sketchbook,’ he began. ‘It’s missing from my cupboard.’

  She shrugged. ‘Sketchbook? No idea what you mean. I’ve not clapped eyes on any sketchbook.’ She turned to walk away but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

  She looked at his hand holding on to her and smirked. ‘See, he just can’t keep his hands off me, Cathy.’

  Cathy gritted her teeth and took a step forward but Gianni held up his hand to stop her coming any closer. ‘You do know what I mean,’ he said, raising his voice. ‘You’re the only one who knows where I keep my art stuff in the caravan. Now tell me what you’ve done with that sketchbook, or I’ll…’

  Eloisa raised an eyebrow. ‘Or you’ll what? I haven’t got it and I don’t bloody well know where it is. Now if you’ll kindly let go of me, I have customers to see to.’

  He let her go and stepped back, a look of fury on his face.

  ‘I’ll see to the customers,’ Tony called. ‘Sounds like you need to sort things out with Gianni.’

  ‘There’s nothing to sort out.’ Eloisa turned to Cathy. ‘I don’t know what you’re looking so smug about. Think you can trust him, don’t you? Well I know better. He’s always making passes at me.’ She flounced away, leaving Cathy staring after her.

  ‘Take absolutely no notice of her,’ Gianni said, holding Cathy’s hand tight and leading the way back to the caravan. ‘She’s totally insane. I wouldn’t go near her for all the money in the world.’

  ‘She’s horrible,’ Cathy said. ‘I can’t believe she’s Maria’s daughter.’ She glanced back over her shoulder to see Eloisa standing with a tall, bearded man who had his arm around her waist and was leering down her top. ‘Who’s that she’s with? Looks old enough to be her father.’

  Gianni glanced back. ‘Some fella called Dougie that joined us in York. She dumped Ronnie for him.’

  ‘She’s actually seeing him? Bloody hell. Is she desperate? I’m so glad you’re leaving this fair. I want you all to myself.’

  ‘Can’t be done,’ he said, a teasing look in his eyes. ‘What will the other lady in my life say to that?’

  ‘Other lady? Oh, you mean little madam,’ she said as Lucy came hurtling towards them and flung herself at Gianni’s legs.

  ‘I rode a motorbike like your one, Daddy,’ she announced as Maria came into view, panting behind her.

  ‘I couldn’t get her off the little ride,’ Maria said. ‘She wouldn’t come off the bike. She had three goes on it. It was the only bike on there as well; the other vehicles were cars and a bus. She made a beeline for the bike.’

  ‘A boy was crying. He wanted a go,’ Lucy said. ‘But I told him, “no you can’t, it’s my bike” and he went back to his mammy and cried. What a big baby.’

  Cathy hid her smile. ‘Now that’s not very nice, Lucy. Poor little boy. You have to be kind to people and learn to share.’

  ‘It’s okay, he’s having a go now,’ Maria said. ‘It’s nearly showtime for you,’ she directed at Gianni. ‘Did you find Eloisa?’

  ‘We did, for what it was worth. Right, I’ll get off and join my dad and Marco. Catch up with you later.’ He kissed Cathy lips, ruffled Lucy’s hair and strode away.

  ‘Be careful,’ Cathy called after him.

  He turned, waved and mouthed, ‘I will.’

  Eloisa’s stomach twisted in a knot of jealousy as she watched Gianni and Cathy walk away hand-in-hand. She jumped as a hand fell on her shoulder.

  ‘Hope that’s not a wistful look you’re giving him,’ Jack whispered in her ear.

  ‘Oh, Dougie, you scared the life out of me. You daft thing, of course it’s not a wistful look. But you can guess what he’s been asking me about, can’t you?’

  He nodded. ‘I’ve been thinking about that and how best to go about it. To be honest, I reckon it’s best if we burn it, don’t you?’

  ‘No, we can’t do that. It needs to go back and I’ll have to do it when no one is around. You’ll have to give it to me later and I’ll put it in the cupboard when Mum and Luca are sleeping. When Gianni comes back to the fair for good after this stint in Liverpool he’s got to put his stuff away in those cupboards anyway and he’ll find it then. With a bit of luck he won’t ask any questions.’

  Jack raised an eyebrow. ‘Hmm, let me have a think about it. Right, I’d better get to work. I’m on ghost train duties. See you later.’ He gave her a squeeze around the waist and dropped a kiss on her lips – after taking an eyeful of her cleavage.

  Sandra and Ben walked hand-in-hand up Lark Lane and made their way to Sefton Park. Her mam and Johnny and the kids were just in front. Sandra felt so excited. She was dying to watch Cathy’s husband ride the bikes. Cathy hated him doing it but it sounded so exciting to Sandra. She wished she and Ben could swap places with her sister and Gianni and do all that travelling in a caravan. So much more exciting than being stuck in Liverpool all week. At the park, they wandered around. Ben bought her some fluffy pink candyfloss and she shared it with him.

  She loved this, the smell of frying onions, the noise and fumes from the generators and the music blasting over the tannoy system. She did a little wiggle to the Everly Brothers’ song ‘Cathy’s Clown’ and then Ben led her over to the waltzer. The operator s
pun them round and round, Sandra clinging onto the bar across their laps and then screaming as she was thrown across Ben. She felt dizzy when they got off. At the hook-a-duck stall Ben won her a white pottery duck. She glanced sideways at the girl who took Ben’s money and handed him his prize, and pulled on his arm.

  ‘Think that’s the girl that fancies our Gianni,’ she whispered. ‘Cathy was always moaning about her.’

  Ben laughed and led her away from the stall. ‘What do you want to do now?’

  ‘Let’s just stroll around a bit more. Then we’ll have a ride on the ghost train. Also, I want to find a fortune-teller but I don’t know if I’m brave enough to get my palm read or see the future in a crystal ball.’

  Ben laughed. ‘I don’t believe in all that sort of stuff, but my mam does.’

  Sandra smiled. ‘Well I know what my future will be anyway. I’m gonna be a nurse like our Cathy. Just gotta pass my exams and I’m off.’

  ‘I want to join the police force,’ Ben said. ‘Me and you would be set up for life with good jobs.’

  Sandra smiled at him and they stopped at the fortune-telling tent and read the posters pinned up outside.

  Maybe she’d have a go later. But for now Ben was calling her name and heading for the ghost train.

  Jack walked away from Eloisa, his mind in a whirl. He’d spotted Cathy with Gianni earlier and she was as beautiful in the flesh as Gianni had made her look in his drawings. She was as slim as she used to be, but curvy in the right places. Glossy dark hair that swung freely down her back and moved around her face as the gentle wind lifted it. He couldn’t part with that sketchbook, but had no idea how to stop Eloisa having a hysterical fit on him and snatching it from his hands. He took his seat in the ghost train kiosk and prepared himself for the onslaught. There was already a queue of kids and teenagers beginning to form.

  ‘Hey, Sandra, over here, gel. Let’s go on the ghost train,’ a young lad was yelling at his girlfriend, who was busy eyeing up the fortune-telling tent. The girl turned and ran towards him, her neat white skirt showing off her shapely legs and her long dark hair streaming out behind her.

  Jack frowned. The girl looked vaguely familiar. And then as the couple drew nearer he realised with shock that it was Sandra, his eldest daughter. Fuck, she’d grown up. He hoped she wouldn’t recognise him. ‘Yes, son,’ he mumbled in as strong an accent as he could manage. After giving him the once-over, but showing no signs of recognition, Sandra was now looking over towards the fortune-teller’s tent again. Good.

  ‘Two please.’ The lad handed over a two-shilling piece and Jack gave him his change. Keeping his head as low as he could, Jack pointed them in the direction of the platform, where the operator showed them which car to get into. He was just getting over the shock of that when he spotted the rest of his estranged family in the distance. Alice, his other two kids, Rosie and young Rodney, along with Millie from next door and her little lad, and with them were Johnny and Jimmy, the brothers. Jack felt genuinely sick and thought he might throw up any minute. He had to get out of there before anyone recognised him.

  What on earth had he been thinking, staying with the fair once it arrived here? His whole past was standing around in this park. All he needed now was for bloody Sheila or Lorraine to come strolling in and that would be that. No matter how much he’d disguised himself, they weren’t all daft. So far he’d been with folk who wouldn’t know him from Adam, but this was dangerous. He called to the bloke doing the operating. ‘Frankie, mate, I can’t do this. My stomach’s playing me up something shocking. Must have eaten something dodgy. I’m gonna have to go back to the van for a while before I throw up.’

  ‘Okay, Dougie. I’ll ask Lenny to pull someone off another ride. Hope you feel better later.’

  ‘Ta.’ Jack hurried back to his caravan. He needed to get away from here. Though God only knew where. He packed his belongings in his rucksack and then decided it wasn’t big enough for all the stuff he’d accumulated over the past few weeks, so had a root through Ronnie’s cupboards and found a small suitcase. Just the job. And that bloody sketchbook would fit at the bottom.

  Or should he leave it behind and let one of the lads find it and give it to Luca? It had Gianni’s name on the cover, so whoever found it would surely hand it over right away. Even if they had a bit of an ogle at Cathy first, he was pretty sure it would end up back with its rightful owner. He lay down on his bed, trying to think what to do next. He’d best leave it here. It was one less thing to identify him by if the police picked him up. He decided to stay put for a few hours, and pretend to be really ill if anyone came to look for him. If Eloisa came knocking, he wouldn’t answer the door. Once the crowds started to thin out and darkness fell, he’d make his escape, but to God only knew where. He had a few quid saved, but it wouldn’t last him long.

  Running away was not going to help him get his hands on Cathy. He’d need to think this out carefully while he had a bit of time. He’d have a rifle round the clothes lying around in a minute or two. See if anyone had left any cash in their pockets.

  Nineteen

  By the time it was starting to get really dark and the remaining punters were leaving, Jack had managed to accumulate a fair few quid. He’d snuck into nearly all the unlocked caravans close by and rooted through pockets, bags and jam jars left on shelves with handfuls of loose change in them. He’d also got his hands on a set of car keys.

  Gianni had left a jacket hanging over the back of a chair in Luca and Maria’s caravan. He knew Luca had lent him his Ford Consul and that it would likely be parked outside Alice’s place on Lucerne Street or even Ma Lomax’s bungalow. Absolutely perfect; neither place was far. He’d wait until the family was all in bed and head over to Alice’s first. He couldn’t see them being up much beyond midnight with the kids. Tomorrow was Sunday and they would no doubt have a lie-in, so he could be well away by the time anyone realised the car had gone. He hadn’t driven for a long time and he hoped he could still manage it with his bloody wooden foot.

  He wondered how long it would take for anyone to realise they’d been robbed. Probably ages because they were a very trusting community who never locked their doors. He looked through the window as he heard voices outside getting closer. The stall and ride owners were slowly making their way back to their caravans. It would be a while before Ronnie and the other lad showed up here as they usually sat around outside, sharing a few bottles of ale. That was good because they would be three sheets to the wind, fall asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow, and he’d be able to slip away unnoticed.

  He made a mug of coffee and a sandwich; it might be a while before he ate again. Although if he headed for the Dock Road in the morning, there used to be a café down there that did a good breakfast for next to nothing. He’d have the car by then, so getting to it wouldn’t be a problem. He couldn’t chance getting on a bus for fear of being recognised. Then he’d head to North Wales or the Isle of Man on a ferry; but for now he needed to focus on getting out of Liverpool until he had a proper plan. Stupid of him to come here in the first place. Getting revenge on Cathy was hardly worth going back to prison for. But then again, it was very tempting to hang around and take his chances – but it seemed like she was never alone. There was always someone with her.

  Eloisa took a lengthy drag on her cigarette and frowned as she watched a shadowy figure moving stealthily between the copse of trees at the side of the caravans. The person had their back to her, so she couldn’t tell in the half-moonlight if it was male or female, but from the height and build she’d guess at male. She’d been unable to sleep, tossing and turning long after everyone else had gone to bed, and had decided to sit on the steps of the caravan. The night was stifling but it had clouded over and there’d been rumblings of thunder. She was feeling a bit fed up because Dougie hadn’t let her in when she’d gone to see if he was okay. She’d been told he was unwell and had gone to his caravan to rest. It had been all in darkness when she’d last knocked on the door,
giving up after calling his name twice and getting no response. If he’d been poorly, he was probably sleeping it off.

  She stared at the person for a few seconds longer and then as they turned sideways on she thought she saw a beard. Dougie? Hard to tell really. At least four other hands had beards of varying lengths. He had a large rucksack on his back that made him look like a hunchback in this half-light and she was sure now that she saw him limping. If it was Dougie, where the heck was he going? She dashed back inside and quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a lightweight sweater, thrust her feet into shoes and left the caravan, keeping her distance, creeping stealthily behind him.

  The trees thickened after a few more yards and Eloisa shivered as the branches took on sinister shapes. The moon was behind the clouds now and every shadow spooked her. She almost jumped out of her skin as she trod on a twig and it cracked loudly. She was aware of whoever it was stopping ahead of her. They stayed quiet but she thought she could hear them breathing.

  An owl hooted above her head, and she jumped and gave a stifled squeal. She lost sight of the figure and didn’t know which way to go. Straight ahead probably led towards the park entrance. Taking a deep breath as thunder rumbled in the distance, she crept forward, glancing from left to right as she walked. She felt really scared now. Maybe she should turn back. As she concentrated on finding her way back, keeping her head down to make sure she didn’t trip, a hand shot out from behind a tree and grabbed her. The owner of the hand spun her around so that she couldn’t see him and, before she could scream, had clamped a hand across her mouth.

  ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ a rough Scouse voice growled in her ear. ‘Why are you following me?’

  Eloisa couldn’t see the man but from his familiar smell, sweaty body mingled with Old Spice and nicotine, she knew it was Dougie. But that wasn’t his voice. She wriggled and tried to kick out at him – if she could get him on the knee he wouldn’t be able to hold on to her with his bad foot as he would wobble and lose his footing. But he spun her around and held on to her. He slapped her across the face and split her lip, swearing at her in that strange guttural accent. He knocked her to the floor and sat astride her.