The Girl from the Docklands Café

by June Tate

  ‘My plans changed so I’ll be upstairs. Goodnight.’ She entered the lift, pressed the button and entered her flat.

  Undressing, she ran a bath and soaked in the hot water, letting her body relax. Conor could have moved in with her and enjoyed this luxury, she thought, but no. Not him! It would have meant a fall from grace in his mind, sharing accommodation she’d earned with her new position and not his. Well, let him carry on living alone because it would be a very long time before she again walked over the doorstep of the house they called home.

  The following evening, Conor filled the tin bath and cleaned off the grime of the day, then changed into his good suit. He picked up a huge bunch of flowers he’d bought at the local florist’s and made his way to the Grosvenor Hotel. He stood outside smoking a cigarette, trying to calm himself, not knowing what kind of reception he’d receive from his wife after her outburst. Jessie’s temper was legendary when raised and he wondered if she’d calmed down by now. Throwing his butt end down, he stepped on it, putting it out, and walked into the foyer. He could see people at the bar and others walking into the dining room, but there was no sign of Jessie. He walked up to the reception desk.

  ‘Good evening, sir,’ said Frances Gates. ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘Is Mrs McGonigall available?’

  ‘I’ll find out for you. Who shall I say is asking for her?’

  ‘Her husband.’

  The receptionist’s expression didn’t change. ‘I won’t be a moment, sir,’ she said and disappeared into the office behind the counter, pulling the door closed behind her.

  ‘There’s a gentleman at reception asking for you, madam.’

  Jessie looked up from her books. ‘Did he say who he was?’

  ‘It’s your husband, Mrs McGonigall.’

  Jessie looked surprised and hesitated for a moment. ‘You’d better bring him in here, Frances.’

  Returning to the desk, Frances looked at Conor. ‘Come this way, sir.’ She lifted the flap at the end of the counter to let him through and led him to the office door, opened it and closed it behind him once he’d entered.

  Jessie looked at her husband, noted his suit and the flowers, but didn’t smile. ‘You wanted to see me?’ She looked coldly at him, waiting for his reply.

  ‘I’ve come to apologise for my behaviour last night. You didn’t deserve that and I’m really sorry.’

  ‘No, I didn’t deserve to be treated like that, you’re right. You think an apology and a bunch of flowers is all it takes to put matters right?’

  ‘Probably not, but it is a beginning, isn’t it? What do you want me to do, get down on my knees and beg?’

  She gave a derisory laugh. ‘That’d be a first!’

  He pointed to a chair beside her desk. ‘May I sit down?’

  She nodded. ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘Look, Jessie, nothing I can say will remove the scene last night, but I’m truly sorry. I let my pride get in the way. It’s not that I’m not proud of your achievements, I am, and you deserve to get on. But this living separately is awful. I miss you being there. It’s not the cooking for me, that’s not it at all. I just feel we’re no longer married; it’s like we’ve parted company. I hate it!’

  ‘You could have moved in here with me. I asked you to.’

  ‘Yes, you did, but can you imagine how I would feel coming in here in my working clothes covered in dirt. That’s not good for your image and I would feel I was letting you down.’

  ‘You could always come in the back entrance.’ She saw the anger in his eyes at her suggestion. ‘But that wouldn’t suit your image, would it?’

  ‘If I’m honest, I couldn’t do it!’ He tried to explain. ‘You have your position to live up to and so do I. In the docks, I’m looked up to because of my work and my ability. I worked hard for that, coming in the back way of the hotel in my working clothes would strip me of my dignity. Is that so wrong?’

  She smiled softly, understanding his point of view and, knowing him as she did, she knew it would be impossible for him. ‘I understand, Conor.’

  He looked relieved. ‘I’m happy that you do.’

  ‘But you, too, must understand, it isn’t easy for me to slip away from the hotel whenever I feel like it. Once we are up and running for a while, it will be easier; at the moment it’s not. Do you think I don’t miss you? When I get into bed at night, I feel so alone and I long for you to be beside me, but you chose to stay in the house. So, there you are, that’s how it is.’

  ‘Ah, Jessie darlin’, what a situation. It’s taking some getting used to, I can tell you, and I’m finding it real hard. I realise it isn’t easy for you too.’ He leant forward, took her hand and kissed it. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m sorry for that.’

  ‘Best we put it behind us, then.’

  He breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’

  ‘No, carry on.’ She pushed an ashtray over to him. ‘Do you fancy a beer?’

  ‘To be honest, I could murder one.’

  Jessie went to the door. ‘Frances, will you ask James for a pint of bitter and a gin and tonic please. I’ll pay him later.’ She came back and sat down.

  ‘So, tell me, how are the neighbours and the two Williams boys? I’ve missed all the gossip being here.’

  They sat chatting and drinking together in the privacy of the office, but Conor didn’t tell her of his run-in with Jennings – that, she didn’t need to know. Eventually, he rose from his chair. ‘I’d best be off, then. Am I forgiven, Jessie?’

  Jessie got up and walked over to him. Putting her arms around him, she said, ‘Yes, you are, but just don’t push your luck! I’ll try and get home in a couple of days’ time, I promise.’

  He drew her into his arms and kissed her. ‘Don’t leave it too long or else everything will stop working and that would be a terrible sin!’

  She opened the office door. ‘That’s most unlikely!’

  He leant forward and whispered in her ear. ‘I love you, you crazy woman. I swear too long away from me, I’m liable to come in here and drag you out by the hair. That’s a promise, so it is!’

  ‘Away with you now. I’ll see you soon.’

  When she was alone, Jessie went over their conversation. She understood Conor so well, but he had to learn to accept the situation or their marriage was in deep trouble. Her next problem would be Christmas, which was only three weeks away. Last year, their neighbours joined them. It was on Boxing Day she’d found poor old Iris cold in her chair. This year there was a Christmas dinner here at the hotel and the bookings were good. No way could she go home until the evening. How would Conor react to that?

  The next morning, Jessie left the hotel, walked to Union Street and knocked on Daisy Brown’s door. The look of surprise on her neighbour’s face when she opened the door made Jessie laugh.

  ‘Yes, it’s me. Can I come in?’

  ‘Of course, come on. I’ll make a pot of tea. Oh, Jessie, it’s so good to see you.’

  ‘I’ve missed you too,’ she answered as she sat down, ‘but I have a problem and I’m wondering if you can do me a favour?’

  ‘Of course, if it’s possible, you know I will.’

  Jessie explained the Christmas dilemma and her concerns, without telling her about the row she’d had with her husband.

  ‘That’s no problem,’ Daisy exclaimed. ‘I was going to ask you and Conor to spend this Christmas with us anyway. He can come and have dinner with us and you can come when you can get away. I’ll keep a plate of food ready for you and we can warm it in the oven.’ She pulled a face. ‘God, I hope we don’t find anyone dead again!’

  The two women sat chatting for a while until Jessie had to go.

  ‘Thanks, Daisy. If you don’t mind, I’d like to tell Conor about the arrangements myself.’

  ‘That’s fine. I’ll see you soon.’ The two women hugged each other, and Jessie left.

  She had planned how she was going to tell her husband and she was sure he’d
be amenable.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It was two nights after Conor’s visit and the hotel had settled for the night. The dining room was closed and there was just another hour for the bar to be open when Jessie put on her coat. She had a word with the night porter, then she left and made her way to Union Street. As she expected, the house was in darkness, so she let herself in quietly and crept up the stairs.

  The bedroom door was ajar and she pushed it open. Conor was fast asleep, lying on his side, one arm across the empty pillow next to him. Jessie stood and looked at her husband. God how she loved this wild Irishman and how much she’d missed him.

  Slowly, she undressed, then she lifted the sheet and climbed into bed, putting her head across his arm and moving her naked body close to his. She stroked his face, then she kissed him gently, moving her mouth over his. He stirred.

  ‘Jessie, is that you?’ he muttered, half-asleep.

  She answered quietly in his ear. ‘If you were expecting someone else then, Conor, you are in real trouble!’

  He opened his eyes. She put one leg over his.

  ‘Jessie! I thought I was dreaming.’

  She took his hand and placed it on her breast. ‘Is this real enough for you?’

  He caressed her gently. ‘I need convincing,’ he said as he moved his hand to her thighs, then parted her legs. ‘Oh my, welcome home, darlin’.’

  Their lovemaking was slow and languid, neither wanting to rush the intimacy they’d had to do without. They explored each other’s bodies, knowing of old where to give the other pleasure. It was a delicious coupling and eventually they lay together, satisfied and happy.

  ‘Oh, sweet Jesus! I’d forgotten just how good that could be,’ Conor said as he kissed his wife and held her close.

  Jessie let out a sigh of contentment. ‘I’ve missed it too. I’ve longed to be in your arms and loved. I promise to come home as often as I can. Soon it will be easier, you’ll see.’

  ‘Can you stay the night?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, but I’ll have to leave early in the morning.’

  ‘Then let’s get some sleep and then after a while, I’ll wake you.’

  Laughing, she said, ‘You’re insatiable!’

  ‘No, darlin’, just making up for lost time.’ He pulled the sheet over them both and snuggled into her. ‘Get some sleep, you’re going to need it.’

  It was six in the morning when Jessie returned to the hotel. She went to her rooms and took a quick bath, dressed, went to the kitchen and made some toast and coffee, which she took to her office. Pouring the coffee, she sat back in the chair, smiling softly as she thought about last night. How good it had been to be with Conor, the closeness, the sex. The sleeping next to him, able to feel his body close to hers. How she had missed it! Last night had healed the cross words they’d exchanged; once again they were a couple. Now she felt content.

  There was a bounce in Conor’s steps as he walked to the docks. He was a happy man after last night in the arms of his wife. No longer did he feel they were drifting apart. Jessie felt it too, he knew that. He also realised that she was doing her best and he was just feeling aggrieved – but no longer. Their marriage was as solid as ever and now he knew she’d come to him whenever she could and that made him happy.

  His change of mood was soon noticed by the men working with him.

  ‘You come into a fortune or what?’ asked one.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you’re full of piss and vinegar this morning, what’s changed?’

  ‘The love of a good woman, that’s what. You should try it, my friend, then you wouldn’t be such a miserable old git!’

  The others laughed. And so the day began.

  It was a long day. The vessel that they were working on was shipping out at midnight and the cargo had to be loaded. The men worked on overtime to achieve this until, eventually, the job was finished.

  ‘Well done, you men,’ said Conor. ‘You earned your overtime, now away to your families. I’ll just finish up here. See you in the morning – and don’t be late!’

  Conor did a final check and when he was satisfied, climbed out of the hold, down the gangway and sat on a bollard to have a quiet cigarette. He gazed out over the docks, looking at the vessels tied up, waiting to sail eventually. It was quiet now apart from one or two members of the crew, making their way to the nearest pub for a few drinks with their mates before sailing.

  The December night was cold, but the sky was clear and the moon shone on the water. Conor was at peace with the world. He loved his job, he had a wife he adored, never had a man been more fortunate he mused as he sat there, lost in his thoughts.

  He thought back to the day he first walked into the workman’s cafe where Jessie was, rushing around, joshing with her customers. How sparky she was as she took his first order. There had been something about her from the first minute he saw her. The way she tilted her head, tossed her hair, the green eyes that could twinkle with amusement and flash when angered. He loved her attitude, her determination. Look at her now! No longer serving great food that she’d cooked, dressed with a long white apron, but a sophisticated woman, manageress of a fine hotel. Mixing with the toffs as if she were born to do so. What a woman!

  A sudden noise made him turn. Silhouetted against the sky was a figure, holding something aloft. He automatically ducked as the man was about to strike, but he was hit on the side of the head. The force of the blow sent him flying across the dock. Although dazed, he recognised the figure.

  ‘Jennings!’ Conor gasped.

  Jennings lifted his arm to aim another blow, but Conor rolled out of the way, shook his head trying to clear his mind and got to his feet. His opponent was unbalanced, having missed his target, which allowed Conor to push him. The man staggered but regained his balance. He held a large spade ready to strike.

  ‘I’m going to kill you, you bastard! You’ve ruined my life.’

  Conor moved and the spade caught his shoulder, making him cry out with pain. But he aimed a punch at Jennings, who staggered a few feet away. The men struggled as Conor tried to hold on to the spade and take it away from the man intent on ending his life.

  As they grappled, they were closer to the edge of the dock, but were unaware of the danger, engrossed in this desperate battle. Conor was now weakened by his injured shoulder and Jennings fought like a madman, fuelled with the thought that at last he was going to make this man pay.

  Conor managed to twist the handle of the spade, making Jennings lose his hold, then Conor swung it at Jennings’ head. The man staggered backwards but, as he did so, he grabbed the front of Conor’s jacket and held on. The two of them toppled over the edge of the dock into the water, Conor bumping his head on the concrete as he fell.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The next morning in the docks, the men stood waiting for Conor to show. The fact that he was late was most unusual as normally he would be stood waiting for them.

  Bill Brown was worried. Had he been taken ill? ‘I’ll go home and see if he’s there,’ he said.

  ‘Take my bike,’ suggested one, ‘it’ll be quicker.’

  Bill set off, peddling furiously until he arrived at Conor’s front door. He banged loudly on it, but there was no answer. He peered through the window, but the room was empty. He walked around the back but couldn’t see anyone. He quickly went and asked his wife if she’d seen Conor, but she hadn’t. He then went across the road to the pub and asked the landlord to ring the Grosvenor Hotel and ask for Jessie. When she came to the phone he took the receiver.

  ‘Jessie, it’s Bill. Conor hasn’t shown up for work. Is he with you?’

  Jessie’s heart missed a beat. ‘No, Bill. I stayed with him the night before last, but I’ve not seen him since. Please let me know when you find him.’ He promised he would.

  When he returned and saw that his friend was still missing, he called the office from a phone box and the man there said he’d send someone to take his plac
e. Bill then went to the police on the gate and told them what had happened and how concerned he was. He explained that they’d worked late the previous night and had left Conor to finish checking up.

  Conor was well known in the docks and the man on duty knew that this was, indeed, unusual.

  ‘I’ll report it,’ he told Bill. ‘I’ll get some men to search the area in case he’s had an accident. At night in the dark with so much machinery about it can be hazardous.’

  The men were on a short shift that morning and when it was over, they joined the police searching the docks.

  It was late in the afternoon when there was a cry from one of the policemen from the far end and the others ran along the dockside. There in the water, caught up in a couple of fenders, were two bodies. It took a while before they could be hauled out of the water onto solid ground. There was no doubt about their identity, despite them being bloated from their time in the water.

  Conor’s men were stunned. This was the last thing they expected. Bill Brown’s face drained of colour as he gazed upon his old friend and tears filled his eyes. This was no way such a vibrant man should meet his end. He had no doubt that Jennings had been the cause of this tragedy and he cursed the man under his breath. But how was he going to tell Jessie?

  In time, a van arrived to take the bodies to the morgue to be examined. The dockers and policemen stood around talking quietly. A police sergeant approached Bill.

  ‘Have you any idea what could have happened here?’

  Bill told him about the bad feeling between the two men and the reason behind it.

  ‘You’d best come down to the station tomorrow and make a statement,’ he said.

  Bill said he would. ‘But now I’ve got to go and give the bad news to Jessie, his wife, and I’m not sure how I’m going to do that.’

  The sergeant looked at him. ‘Ah yes, Jessie McGonigall. Well, she’s a strong woman and she’ll need to be now. Good luck, my friend. Do you want one of my men to come with you?’