by Rosie Harris
‘I’m talking about a young chap to replace me.’
‘You don’t want to give up work, surely!’ Vera said in surprise. ‘I thought you were enjoying being back in the harness.’
‘I did at first,’ he admitted, ‘but I’m beginning to realise why you have to retire. I’m knocking seventy and I can’t put in the hours like I used to do. I can’t do the work the same, either,’ he said sadly.
‘You seem to be doing all right to me,’ Vera told him loyally.
‘You know that’s not true. I’ve heard the complaints being fired at you over the past weeks. You’ve never said anything to me, but it’s not good for your business. Your father has worked hard to build up a reputation for good service, now you don’t want me to go and ruin all that, do you?’
‘I’m sure you won’t …’
‘No!’ Sam Dowty took off his leather apron and rolled it up into a ball. ‘This needs to go back into the cupboard under the stairs. My wife said I was a silly old fool when I told her I was going back to work. I don’t like having to admit she was right, but there you are, she seems to have been. You women!’ He shook his head in mock dismay. ‘You’re always right, aren’t you?’
Vera knew he was trying to break the news to her gently that he was leaving, but even though his work wasn’t as good as she would have liked it was better having him here than no one.
She had to keep the business going until Benny was through with his schooling. She’d promised him she would and she didn’t intend to let him down.
‘Stay on for just a few more weeks, until I can find someone,’ she begged.
‘I’ve already told you that I know of a young chap,’ he reminded her. ‘I can recommend him because I trained him. That was in the days when my eyesight was as good as yours is, young lady, and I was able to take pride in my work,’ he added with a wry smile.
Chapter Twenty-eight
It wasn’t until after Sam Dowty had gone home that Vera realised he hadn’t told her the name of the young man he’d suggested might come and work for her.
She wondered if he would remember and come back in the morning with the details. Or, because of her lack of enthusiasm, would he assume that she wasn’t interested?
As she locked the shop door and went through into the living room, she decided she was too tired to worry about it any more. She wasn’t too sure if it was the right thing to do, so it might be better if she slept on it anyway and made up her mind in the morning.
She prepared their evening meal, took her father’s upstairs on a tray and then called Benny down from his bedroom where he’d gone to study the moment he got home from school.
As they ate their meal she talked to Benny about the day’s happenings and the problem over the ruined boots. She also told him about Sam Dowty’s decision to pack in work and his advice that they should hire a full-time younger cobbler.
‘If you know where this Sam Dowty lives then I’ll nip round and ask him the name of the chap,’ Benny offered.
‘I don’t know where he lives, though,’ Vera confessed. ‘Mr Brown sent him along.’
‘Then you’ll have to wait and see if he comes back tomorrow.’
Vera sighed. ‘I’m not too sure he will. I wasn’t very keen on the idea when he mentioned it so he may think I’m not interested. I did tell him later on that I thought it was a good idea,’ she added quickly as Benny raised his eyebrows questioningly.
A noise from upstairs distracted them. Vera rushed up to her father’s bedroom to find that he was once again in the throes of an attack.
As she walked in through the door he hurled the plate of food she had brought up for him at her, then cowered down under the bedclothes, screaming at her to go away.
Wearily she picked up the broken plate and went to fetch a cloth to clean up the mess.
‘We’ll have to call in a doctor to take a look at him,’ Benny told her. ‘He needs something to quieten him down when he has one of these attacks. We can’t go on like this any longer.’
‘Perhaps we can persuade him to go and see the doctor at his surgery.’
‘Don’t talk daft, Vee! You know he won’t do that. You’ll have to get in touch with the doctor, explain what is happening, and ask him to call here.’
Benny sounded so determined that this was the right course of action to take that Vera accepted his decision. She felt too drained to argue.
In bed that night, her brain spinning like a top, she thought back over the things that had happened lately.
Sometimes she felt as if other people were taking over her life. There always seemed to be someone deciding what she should do. Leonard Brown had told her she couldn’t work for his company any more; a man she didn’t even know had told her that the standard of work she was providing at the shop was not good enough; Sam Dowty had told her she needed a younger man to work in the business; and now Benny was telling her that she must call in a doctor to see her father.
Did they all know better than her? Or was she so tired out with looking after her father, and trying to keep their home and business together, that she could no longer think for herself?
As she opened up the shop next morning she toyed with the idea of not taking in any more work until she’d had a chance to talk to Sam Dowty. Perhaps he was right and the only way forward was to take on the young chap he had recommended.
She was still mulling over the problem when the shop door opened and a youngish man came in. He was tall and thin and his mid-brown hair flopped down over his hazel eyes. As he raised a hand and pushed it back there was something familiar about the gesture. Vera stared at him in disbelief. It was as though she was seeing a ghost from the past.
An older version; the same, yet not the same. There was a big difference between the physique of a very young schoolboy and a man in his twenties. Yet, though the face was more mature, the expression on it was one she would never forget.
‘Jack … Jack Winter?’
‘Vera Quinn?’
They spoke in unison and both of them answered ‘Yes’ at the same time.
He reached out and grabbed her hand. ‘It must be twelve years?’
‘No, it’s much longer than that!’
‘Yes, you’re quite right! It was at the end of the war!’
‘It was in 1919!’
He shook his head in disbelief. ‘What happened? You suddenly vanished!’
‘We moved here,’ she explained, freeing her hand from his grasp.
‘Yeah! Without even saying goodbye.’
‘I didn’t know you cared,’ she quipped.
‘Of course I did!’ He pushed back his hair. ‘You were my first and only heartthrob. Black hair, big blue eyes and such a special smile … In fact, that’s why I recognised you the moment I walked through the door.’
Vera laughed and shook her head. ‘You don’t change, do you!’
Jack Winter’s hazel eyes twinkled. ‘Didn’t you have a couple of big brothers?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ Vera nodded. ‘There was Charlie. He was six years older than me, but he died from flu …’
‘At the same time as your grandparents, Mr and Mrs Simmonds. I was only about nine, but I can remember what a dreadful time it was. People were dying within days of being taken ill.’
‘Yes, it was dreadful.’ Her face clouded for a moment. ‘It happened at the same time as my dad came home from the army.’
Jack nodded understandingly. ‘And what about Eddy?’
‘He’s at sea now. I have a younger brother, too, called Benny. He was born after we left Wallasey.’
‘So he must be about thirteen …’
‘Fifteen, actually.’
‘Fifteen years and I’ve never forgotten you.’ He smiled. ‘In fact, I’ve thought about you a lot. You took my heart with you when you disappeared.’
‘You always could tell whoppers, Jack Winter,’ Vera laughed. ‘It’s great to see you again, though.’
It certainly was, she though
t. It brought back so many memories of happier days. Of her dear grandparents and of Charlie. Her recollections of those long-ago times in Wallasey had a magical golden glow to them. In those days they had been such a happy family.
She’d loved her dad so much, then. He had seemed such a kindly, loving giant who had treated her like a princess. She could remember riding high on his shoulders as he chased after Charlie and Eddy. He would play all sorts of games with her and read her a story after she was tucked up in bed at night.
Most of all, she remembered her mother. In those days she’d been plump, cuddly and so very kind and cheerful. She’d been so brave and dependable all the time her dad had been away in the army. She’d carried on as though nothing was the matter, yet she must have been dreadfully lonely without him, as well as worried about all the danger he might be in.
It was true that they’d had Gran and Granddad Simmonds popping in every day to see how they were, but her mother must still have been scared that something bad might happen to their father.
Vera had been too young at the time to understand why he had been so different when he’d come back from the war. Looking back, though, she now realised how much the change in him must have distressed her mother, especially when so many other things had gone wrong at the same time.
Almost overnight, or so it seemed, her grandparents and Charlie were gone and absolutely everything had altered. Within a matter of weeks they’d moved away from Wallasey to Liverpool. They’d exchanged their comfortable home in Exeter Road to the barrack-like rooms behind the shop in Scotland Road.
Her mam had done her best to make it into a home, but it had always remained bare. So much of their furniture had been sold that it was never as comfortable or cosy as the home they’d grown up in.
School hadn’t been as friendly, either, Vera thought with a shiver. When she’d attended Manor Road with Jack Winter and all the other friends she and her brothers had then, it had been like one big, happy family. They’d all walked to and from school with each other and played together afterwards.
‘Yes, they were great days when we were both at Manor Road School, weren’t they,’ Jack commented as if reading her mind.
‘It was a long time ago. Another life, almost,’ she agreed sadly.
‘And now we’re both grown up.’ He looked at her speculatively. ‘Are you married, Vera?’
She shook her head emphatically. Colour drained from her face as she remembered Bill Martin.
‘I seemed to have touched a raw nerve,’ Jack said hastily.
‘No, it’s all right.’ She bit down on her bottom lip and held her head high. ‘How about you?’ she asked quickly.
‘Me, married! I could never find a girl who came anywhere near the one with black shining hair and big blue eyes who’d stolen my heart when I was so young,’ he quipped.
Vera laughed. ‘Still the same old Jack, you always could talk your way out of anything! Anyway, what are you doing in Liverpool?’
The smile went and was replaced by a puzzled look. ‘An old chap called Sam Dowty came to see me last night and told me there was possibly an opening for a manager at a snob shop in Scotland Road.’ He looked at a crumpled scrap of paper he took from his pocket. ‘This was the number he gave me …’
Vera nodded. ‘That’s right, but I had no idea who Mr Dowty was thinking of as he forgot to tell me your name. I was hoping that he would come by this morning and let me know who it was.’
‘Instead of which, I turn up! Well,’ he looked round the shop and work area, ‘all very business-like. Plenty of customers?’
Vera shrugged. ‘We did have, but since my dad’s been ill trade has dropped off a bit. It picked up again when Mr Dowty began helping out, but I’m afraid …’
‘His eyesight isn’t what it should be and his work wasn’t up to standard. Don’t worry, he explained it all to me. And about the owner’s illness, so there’s no need for us to talk about that either. The only thing Sam Dowty didn’t tell me was the name over the shop!’
‘So does this mean you are interested in coming to work here?’
‘Well, I’m anxious to change my job. I want to be a manager and I’ll never get the chance where I am now. There’s two blokes older than me already waiting for the boss to retire. When old Sam told me about this place I was in two minds as to whether I wanted to work in Liverpool or not. Now I know I’m going to see you every day then I’m quite sure that I do.’
Vera smiled. ‘I remember you were always one for cheeky answers.’
‘It’s my smile that charms everybody,’ he laughed. ‘Well, do you want me to get started so that you can check out the standard of my work before we do a deal?’
‘I suppose that is the right way to do things, but somehow I don’t think it will be necessary. I know all about you and by the sound of it you haven’t changed very much. If Sam Dowty recommends you and says you’re a good worker then I’m sure he’s right.’
‘What about your dad? Won’t he want to have a say in all this?’
Vera frowned. ‘To tell you the truth, I’m rather hoping that he might not remember that it was Sam and not you who was working here.’
‘Whew!’ Jack puffed out his cheeks. ‘I know I’m a lot older than I was when we last met, but I didn’t think I’d aged that much! I could wear a white wig and a false beard, I suppose!’
Vera shook her head. ‘Oh, come on, Jack. You know what I mean.’
‘Of course I do. I was only trying to lighten what looks to be a very serious situation. I haven’t seen your dad since you lived in Wallasey …’
Vera held up a hand to silence him as the door between the living room and the shop opened and Michael Quinn was suddenly standing there.
He looked tired and dishevelled, but his bloodshot blue eyes were alert and wary.
‘So who is this, then?’ he rasped.
‘Jack Winter. We knew him when we lived in Wallasey. I … I went to school the same time as he did.’
‘Hello, Mr Quinn.’ Jack held out a hand, which Michael ignored.
‘Sam Dowty sent Jack along to take his place,’ Vera said quickly. ‘He’s only this minute arrived. He was just going to start work.’
‘That’s right!’ Jack took down her father’s leather apron from its hook and began to put it on.
‘That’s my bloody apron you’ve got there,’ Michael Quinn roared. ‘Haven’t you got one of your own?’
‘I most certainly have, but I didn’t bring it with me this morning. You don’t mind if I wear yours for today, do you?’
Michael didn’t answer. He turned and shuffled back into the living room and slammed the door behind him.
Jack raised his eyebrows as his gaze locked with Vera’s. ‘What does that mean? Have I said or done the wrong thing?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not too sure, Jack,’ she said uneasily. ‘I’ll try and explain the situation to him while I make a cup of tea for us all. Perhaps I can get him to talk things over with you while we’re drinking it.’
Chapter Twenty-nine
The next few months were some of the busiest, as well as the happiest, that Vera had ever known. Sometimes she had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
Jack Winter had achieved wonders in the shop. His work was impeccable, and in next to no time word had spread and most of their old customers came back. Not only that, but they were so delighted with the results of his handiwork, and so fulsome in their praise, that they were recommending Quinn’s as the best cobbler’s in Liverpool.
‘The last pair of boots I brought in here were well past it, but you’ve given them a new lease of life,’ were remarks Vera heard over and over again.
Jack had also found time to give the shop a complete overhaul. He’d even given the walls a new coat of paint so that everything looked fresh and clean.
‘The spring sunshine shows up dingy corners,’ he laughed, when Vera tried to thank him.
‘I know that, but it isn’t r
eally part of your job to do the decorating.’
‘I did it for my own benefit, really. I like to work in bright, clean surroundings,’ he added as an afterthought.
Vera nodded understandingly. She’d noticed how meticulous he was in the way he arranged everything. Soles were all segregated in their correct sizes and stacked ‘left’ and ‘right’ the way her father had always insisted they should be.
She smiled to herself as she remembered the terrible rows there had been over this when her brothers had been told to sort them out.
‘My dad used to get into a right rage with Eddy and Benny because they could never tell a right sole from a left one,’ she told Jack. ‘It used to scare me so much that I would creep in and sort the soles out for them when Dad wasn’t looking.’
‘Keeping things in order is the easy part,’ Jack grinned. ‘It’s keeping tabs on the pricing of each job and making sure that all the money tallies that I find hard work.’
Vera looked at him in surprise. ‘Really? You’ve not made any mistakes as far as I am aware since you’ve been working here.’
‘Only because I’ve checked everything half a dozen times. I even wake up in the middle of the night wondering if I’ve made any mistakes. It bugs me like hell. Figures were never my strong point, not even when we were at school.’
‘So that was why you were always leaning over my shoulder,’ Vera mocked. ‘I thought you were being friendly, but what you were really doing was copying my work.’
‘Now you know the truth,’ Jack groaned. ‘So what are you going to do about it? Send me packing?’
‘No, you’re too good a workman for that,’ she told him. Her tone became serious. ‘I tell you what, Jack, why don’t I write out all the tags, do the pricing up, and then check that when the work is paid for the money is totalled up correctly?’
‘You mean as well as ordering all the materials we need and checking all the invoices, and paying the bills as they come in?’
She nodded. ‘That will give you more time to concentrate on doing the repairs.’
‘Do you think your dad will settle for that? I don’t want him to think that I’m only doing half a job.’