by Rosie Harris
One man, more resourceful than the others, brought out a bucket of garden soil and tipped it over the remains of the glowing heart.
‘That should keep it doused down; it should be safe enough now,’ he commented with such satisfaction in his voice that the firemen and other bystanders laughed.
‘No point in blaming the bonnie for what happened, whacker,’ one of the firemen observed. ‘The lads were probably doing a bit of pushing and shoving, you know what they’re like.’
‘I don’t think so. We were all watching to make sure there was no rough stuff.’
‘Then the stupid young bugger must have tripped, or else he was trying to warm his hands and got too damn close.’
‘Bad luck that it was young Percy Carter; you know what his old man is like and a lot of us depend on him for our living,’ someone muttered.
‘Don’t know what the young idiot was doing here, anyway, since he doesn’t live in this street, for a start.’
‘Got his eye on young Lucy Collins, hasn’t he? That’s why he was lurking around.’
‘Wasting his time, then; she’s given her heart to Robert Tanner; they’ve been sweet on each other since their schooldays.’
‘Young Sam Collins is the one I’m worried about,’ another remarked. ‘Did you get a chance to see how bad his hands were before he went off in the ambulance, Bill?’ he asked looking over at Sam’s father.
‘Brave young devil, and no mistake,’ someone commented admiringly. ‘He didn’t hesitate for a second. No, he went straight in there, regardless of all the heat or the danger to himself.’
‘It was in his interest to do so, wasn’t it? Don’t forget Carter is his boss.’
‘Get some good Brownie points for rescuing his son,’ another commented with a cynical guffaw.
‘He’d probably have been made foreman next week if he’d finished his apprenticeship,’ someone else laughed.
‘Doubt it. More likely to get blamed for what’s happened. It’s to be hoped that Percy isn’t too badly hurt or there will be hell to pay. Mark my words, if he is, then his dad will most certainly blame it all on those two young lads.’
‘Talk sense, whacker. Why should Carter do that when they were the ones who helped him?’
‘They’ll have a job to convince him of that. Sure as eggs he’ll hold them responsible.’
‘Well, that’s a load of nonsense and I’ll be one of the first to stand up and tell him so if I hear him say anything like that,’ a mild-looking man defended.
‘You and whose army, John Edwards? You can’t even say boo to that nagging wife of yours so I don’t see you facing Mr Carter and telling him he’s a lying bastard.’
‘No, I wouldn’t put it to him quite like that,’ John Edwards admitted, ignoring the comment about his wife. ‘There are other ways of telling a man he’s wrong.’
‘Instead of standing around here in the cold arguing the toss about it all, why don’t we all go for a jar down at the boozer?’ someone suggested.
There was a universal murmur of agreement and, putting up their coat collars and turning their backs on the sodden remains of the bonfire, they began to wend their way down the road to the nearest pub.
A few looked guiltily towards their homes, knowing that they were leaving their wives to console the children who were both dismayed by what had happened to the bonfire and fireworks they had been looking forward to and also excited by all the things that had gone on there that night. For most of them the most thrilling moment had been the arrival of the fire engine and when the box of fireworks had exploded with such an almighty bang.
Chapter Two
The minute Lucy Collins arrived at Carter’s Cars on Saturday morning she went straight to her seat at the switchboard at the far end of the general office.
A tall, slim girl with neatly styled dark brown hair, she had an air of efficiency about her and she wanted to ask Mr Carter how Percy was the moment he arrived. She also wanted to tell him that Sam would not be coming in to work that morning.
There had been a heated discussion at breakfast about whether he should do so or not.
‘There’s no point in you coming in to work, not with your hands all bound up like that,’ she’d told him firmly as she finished her bowl of porridge and reached for her hat and coat. ‘Don’t worry, Mr Carter knows what happened last night and all about your hands, so I’ll let him know how bad they are.’
‘No, he might think I was pulling a fast one,’ Sam argued. ‘You heard what he said to me and Robert about making sure we were at work on time this morning.’
‘Yes, but he didn’t know how badly burned your hands were, now did he?’
‘Well, he won’t know now, not unless I go in to work and he can see for himself.’ Sam scowled.
‘Yes he will, I’ve already said that I’ll tell him the minute he arrives.’
‘After the way you spoke to him last night you might find you haven’t even got a job when you get there,’ Sam pointed out gloomily.
‘Don’t talk daft. Of course I’ll have a job. There are only two of us on the telephone switchboard and if one of us is off, then the other is unable to handle all the calls and he knows that perfectly well.’
‘Well, I’m coming to work whatever you say, so help me put my coat on,’ Sam stated firmly.
‘I’ll help you, luv,’ his mother said. She had let them argue it out but she had a worried frown on her face as she tried to slide one of his bandaged hands into the armhole of his coat and found it was impossible to do so.
‘You know, I think our Lucy’s right, Sam; it would be better if you stayed at home. You don’t want to get the cold into those sore hands or you’ll be in real trouble.’
‘Get the cold in them?’ Sam laughed. ‘I’d have a job to do that the way they’re bandaged up. Look, if you can’t get my hands into the sleeves, then help me put the coat around my shoulders and just fasten a button or something to keep it on.’
‘And let you go out of the house looking like a scarecrow?’ Margaret Collins scolded.
‘Either that or I’ll go to work without putting on a coat at all,’ Sam mumbled.
‘You’ll do no such thing. Heavens above, you’d catch pneumonia. It’s cold and damp out there. Look at the way our Lucy is wrapped up. Underneath her coat she’s got on a cardigan as well as a jumper and she’s even put on a thick scarf.’
‘I’m going into work whether you two like it or not. When I’ve seen Mr Carter, if he says it’s all right for me to have some time off, then I’ll come home again.’
‘You know he won’t say that,’ Lucy protested. ‘He always says that no matter what’s wrong with you, if you concentrate on what you should be doing, then you’ll soon forget about it. He even says that when it means you’ll end up passing a heavy cold or the influenza to everyone else you’re working alongside.’
‘Well, if you’re going, then you’d better get a move on or else both of you will be late,’ their mother told them. ‘Your dad left well over half an hour ago.’
Lucy and Sam exchanged smiles. They both knew that their father, Bill Collins, who was in charge of the Stores at Carter’s Cars, was a stickler for punctuality.
As they reached the front door Sam turned round to say goodbye to his mother and as he did so he accidentally caught one of his hands against the door frame and let out a sharp yelp of pain. The colour drained from his face and for a moment he leaned against the wall as if he was feeling faint.
‘That settles it,’ his mother said firmly, her mouth set in a tight line. ‘Our Lucy is right; you’re not fit to go in to work. Come on, Sam, come back inside and settle down in front of the fire. Take the morning off and by Monday you’ll have had a good rest and your hands will be feeling much better.’
Lucy could see that Mr Carter was not in a good mood when he arrived half an hour after she did. A short, squarely built man, he strode through the general office to his own private office without acknowledging anyone.
His face was like a grim mask, his hard, dark eyes staring straight ahead. The clerks whispered amongst themselves after he’d gone into his office and shut the door.
‘The boss looks as though he’s been up half the night.’
‘Yes, young Percy must be in a bad way.’
‘Do you think someone should ask him how his lad is this morning?’
‘Mr Carter would probably prefer it if you kept your heads down and got on with your work,’ Miss Yorke, who was Mr Carter’s secretary and also in charge of the general office, ordered. ‘If Mr Carter has anything at all to tell us about his son, then he will do it in his own good time,’ she added officiously.
A thin angular woman in her mid-forties, her thin mousy hair always in a tight roll in the nape of her neck, she had worked at Carter’s Cars since the day she left school and took a proprietary interest in guarding her boss’s privacy and well-being.
Lucy said nothing but the moment there was a lull on the switchboard she walked quickly down the room to Mr Carter’s office and tapped on the door.
‘Lucy Collins, whatever do you think you are doing?’ Miss Yorke demanded, staring over the top of her gold-rimmed glasses in stark disapproval.
Lucy ignored her. Her heart was thumping because she knew she had a nerve to approach Mr Carter without asking Miss Yorke for permission, so the moment she heard him say ‘Enter’, Lucy nipped inside and quickly closed the door behind her.
Mr Carter was seated at his massive mahogany desk concentrating on a ledger that was open in front of him. Lucy stood in front of his desk for such a long time waiting for him to look up that she wondered if he knew she was in the room.
When he did glance up, Mr Carter frowned heavily when he saw who it was standing there.
‘Well, Lucy Collins, what is it you want? I am extremely busy.’
‘I wanted to ask you how Percy was,’ Lucy stuttered, the colour rushing to her face.
‘Very badly burned and if I find out who it was who pushed him on to that bonfire, I will make sure that they are severely punished. You are quite sure that your brother wasn’t one of them?’
‘No, Sam most certainly wasn’t,’ Lucy said heatedly. ‘Sam was the one who pulled him off the bonfire, and his hands are now so badly burned that he isn’t able to come to work today.’
For several minutes Mr Carter said nothing as he studied her angry face.
‘Did Robert Tanner have anything to do with what happened?’ he asked.
‘Only in so far as he helped Sam to lay Percy down on the ground and then went with them in the ambulance to the hospital.’
‘You were there as well,’ Mr Carter said tetchily. ‘I suppose it could have been you who pushed Percy.’ His sharp dark eyes studied her face as he waited for her to reply.
‘You know quite well that I wouldn’t do anything like that,’ Lucy said flatly. ‘None of us know how Percy fell on to the bonfire. He wasn’t even supposed to be that close to it. Robert was in charge of the fireworks and Sam was making sure that all the younger kids kept well back so that no one would be hurt.’
‘Well, he didn’t do a very good job, did he, or Percy wouldn’t have ended up getting half burned to death,’ Mr Carter snapped. ‘He’s quite badly blistered, especially his forehead and the sides of his face, that it’s a mercy he hasn’t been disfigured for life.’
‘I’m very sorry to hear that, Mr Carter. I can well imagine how much discomfort Percy must be in because Sam is in terrible pain with his hands.’
‘A mere detail compared to what my son is suffering,’ Mr Carter stated bitterly.
Lucy bit her lip and remained silent. She could see that Mr Carter was very upset and she was aware that anything she did say he would manage to turn round so that she was the one in the wrong.
‘You’d better get back to the switchboard,’ he said dismissively. ‘Even if your brother isn’t fit to work I trust you are.’
‘Yes, Mr Carter.’
Lucy felt angry and humiliated as she made her way back to her seat. She could feel all eyes were on her as she walked through the general office and she knew Miss Yorke was waiting for an explanation but she was too choked to speak.
Once she was sitting down with her headphones on she tried to shut out the rest of the world as she dealt almost mechanically with the incoming and outgoing calls.
Half an hour later, when she put through a call from Mr Carter to Mr Fitzpatrick, who was in charge of the apprentice mechanics, she deliberately listened in and her heart sank as she heard Mr Carter tell him to send Robert Tanner to his office right away.
Robert was in Mr Carter’s office for well over twenty minutes and to Lucy it seemed to be an interminable time. When he emerged he was white faced and looked extremely upset. Lucy longed to know what had been said but it was impossible to ask him at that moment.
As she watched Robert stride out of the office, his head held high, she knew she would have to contain her curiosity until they finished work at midday.
He was still looking very perturbed when she arrived at their usual meeting place about a hundred yards away from the showroom. As he fell into step alongside her he said nothing but as she slipped her hand into his he gave it a companionable squeeze, and when she looked up at him he returned her smile.
Even so she knew something was wrong and was impatient for him to tell her all that had gone on. She understood that he didn’t want to do so until they were away from all the other apprentices and clerks who had left Carter’s Cars at the same time and who were still within earshot.
‘How was Sam this morning?’ he asked.
‘He wanted to come in to work but Mam persuaded him he’d be better off at home. He agreed with her after he banged one of his hands as he was coming through the door.’
‘You told Mr Carter about it?’
‘Yes, but he said it was nothing to what Percy was suffering. He said Percy was in considerable pain because he was so badly blistered.’
‘He’d probably have been burned to a cinder if Sam hadn’t acted so quickly,’ Robert pointed out. ‘What gets me so mad is that instead of being grateful for what we did, Mr Carter more or less accused Sam of pushing Percy on to the fire.’
‘Or you! He asked me if you’d done it and when I said no, he had the nerve to ask if it was me,’ Lucy added with a mirthless laugh.
‘When he started accusing me I nearly told him that if his son wasn’t such a stupid bugger then he wouldn’t have been so close to the fire in the first place,’ Robert muttered.
‘I don’t suppose we’ll ever know why he was that close, not unless he tells us and, by the sound of things, he’s not well enough to do that at the moment.’
‘Even when he is feeling better he’s hardly likely to admit that he was in the wrong because he knows how mad that would make his old man,’ Robert said gloomily.
In this Robert was wrong.
Percy had always been something of a loner. When he’d first started school the other children had teased him and called him ‘four-eyes’ because he wore glasses and was afraid to join in any of the rougher games for fear of breaking them. Sam and Robert had befriended him. When he was about twelve and his father paid for him to attend a private school they still considered him a friend and let him go around with them at the weekends.
Although she had been Sam’s girlfriend since their schooldays, Patsy, with her long blonde hair, hour-glass figure and wide smile that made heads turn, was giggly and a born flirt and often led Percy on when they all went out together, even though she confided in Lucy that he was pretty dumb.
Nevertheless, it was Lucy whom Percy appeared to be attracted to, not Patsy. The two girls were the exact opposite of each other. Lucy was quiet and sensible, v
ery slim with dark hair and eyes and a shy smile. Even though she made it quite clear that she wasn’t interested in him other than as a friend, it had been because he wanted to be in Lucy’s company that Percy had come to the bonfire night in Priory Terrace.
Patsy and Lucy had been working at Carter’s Cars more or less the same length of time. Patsy’s father, though, had paid for her to have shorthand and typing lessons so as well as occasionally helping out on the switchboard whenever they were short-staffed, Patsy also worked directly under Miss Yorke. Occasionally, when Miss Yorke was away, Patsy even acted as secretary to Mr Carter.
As soon as Percy realised that his father was blaming Sam and Robert for his accident he explained to his father that what had happened was his own fault.
‘I wanted to see what fireworks Robert had in the box and when I bent down to look at them my glasses came off and as I reached out to pick them up, I tripped over something lying on the ground and I fell forward on to the fire.’
It was a couple of days, though, before he told his father this and in the meantime Robert and Sam were regarded as the young villains responsible for the terrible accident by most of the staff at Carter’s Cars. Some people even went as far as to say that Sam deserved to suffer and that his badly burned hands were his punishment.
Once the true events came out into the open, then everyone was full of praise as well as sympathy for Sam and even Mr Carter said how brave he’d been.
Although Sam was fit enough to be back at work the following week, he wasn’t able to carry out his duties as an apprentice mechanic in the workshop. Instead, he was filling in his time running errands for Mr Fitzpatrick the engineering foreman and doing odd jobs around the car showroom that didn’t require any practical skills.
‘I might just as well stay home,’ he complained when his father commented about it one evening.
‘You make the best of it, son,’ his father advised. ‘Seeing that you’re not fit to do your job, Mr Carter could have stood you off with no pay, remember. As it is, he’s paying your wages in full even though you’ve had two days off this week to go to the hospital to have your dressings changed, so think yourself lucky.’