Beware This Boy

by Maureen Jennings

  “I’m sure we can arrange it. The only activity we’ve had today is Norton’s ram getting out of the field. In search of some ewes, apparently. Eager was instrumental in catching him. I’m sure the lad would be glad of more of a challenge.”

  “Good. Tell him to take the first train he can get.”

  “Yes, sir.” There was a pause, then Gough said, “If you are in need of further help, I myself would be happy to come. I haven’t been in the city since I was a nipper.”

  “What? There’s no excitement going on here, I can tell you. Besides, the entire Shropshire constabulary would collapse without you.”

  Gough coughed. “Not the entire constabulary, sir, but perhaps the Whitchurch division.”

  They hung up, and under the sharp scrutiny of the sour-faced desk sergeant, Tyler wrote down the time.

  “I beg your pardon, Inspector, but there was a message for you from Mr. Mason. He said to inform you he is delayed in Nuneaton overnight.”

  “Good thing you remembered to tell me, Sergeant. I was prepared to wait up for him.”

  The sergeant regarded Tyler suspiciously, not sure if he was being reprimanded or not. “I didn’t forget, sir. I was just waiting for the opportunity to give you the message.”

  Tyler grinned at him. “We have an expression where I come from, Sergeant. ‘If my aunt could piss standing up, she’d be my uncle.’ ”

  The sergeant scowled. “Yes, sir.”

  “In case any other messages come in, you will have the opportunity to give them to me in the common room, where I will be spending the next hour.”

  Tyler left him to contemplate that and went upstairs to the common room. He was tired. He’d been right not to expect a good night’s sleep. But he also felt the need for some company.

  There was only one man in the room, a uniformed constable who was in the middle of a solitary game of darts. When he heard the door open, he turned and his face lit up. Tyler recognized him immediately. They’d been on the beat together years ago.

  “Tommy Tyler, as I live and breathe. Good to see you. The inspector said you were billeted here for a bit. I was hoping our paths would cross. Ben McNaughton here. If you say you don’t remember me, I’ll plough you.”

  Tyler laughed. “Forget you? Wish I could, with all the trouble you got me into.” He held out his hand. “Hello, Ben. How’re you doing? All right?”

  They shook hands heartily.

  McNaughton was heavier than when Tyler had last seen him and, like Alf, he’d lost a lot of his hair, but he was as boisterous as he remembered.

  “Take the weight off your beaters, Tommy. Let me go and rustle up a tot of something from the canteen. We’ve got some catching up to do.”

  He was as good as his word, returning in a few moments with a half a bottle of sherry and two teacups. “Sorry about these, Tom. Couldn’t find the crystal.”

  The sherry was awful, far too sweet for Tyler’s taste, but McNaughton downed it easily. He grinned. “You’d never think I used to be a teetotaller, would you.”

  “You were pretty strict, as I recall.”

  McNaughton said, “See what a lot I missed out on.” He held out the sherry bottle. “Some more?”

  “No, thanks. Save it for the trifle.”

  “You’re right, it is on the sweet side. But beggars can’t be choosers.” He poured another splash into his cup. “My wife says I have to be careful I don’t become a dipsomaniac. She likes fancy words, does my wife, but what she means is that I drink too much. Which is true.” He looked at Tyler. “But you know, Tom, lately I find the world looks slightly better through the gleam of a bottle.”

  Tyler knew what he was talking about but he didn’t feel like getting into a warm tub of melancholy at the moment. McNaughton had a good start on him.

  “I thought you’d retired, Ben, getting a well-deserved rest on a good pension.”

  “Ha. Fat chance of either. My wife has been storing up jobs for me for decades, it feels like. Coming back has been a relief. And as for the pension, well, you know what a joke that is.”

  Tyler grinned. Police wages and pensions were nothing to boast about. “How long have you been back on the job?”

  “Since January. They were trawling for officers and they fished up me. I was a reservist.”

  “How’s it been here? We’re pretty quiet out in the sticks.”

  “Bad. It’s been bad. There were so many fires in Friday’s raid we almost drained the canal.”

  “No guff!”

  “Coventry’s had it even worse than us. I was called over there the day after the really bad raid on the twenty-second. The entire centre was virtually razed to the ground.” McNaughton downed the last of the sherry. “My mum and dad took me to see Coventry Cathedral when I was a nipper. It was quite a revelation to me. We were chapel, you see, and not given to stained glass windows and such, but even I could tell it was a beauty.” He paused. “I remember looking up and the columns seemed to sway like trees reaching up to heaven. I had quite a religious moment. Scared my parents half to death – they thought I might turn papist.” He put down his empty cup with a thud. “It’s nothing but a shell now. Sodding Krauts. I hope they’re getting it as bad.”

  “By all accounts they are,” said Tyler.

  McNaughton stood up. “Darn, I’d better get going. I’m on duty in five minutes. Listen, Tommy, let’s make sure we have a long chinwag before you have to leave. Go over old times, that sort of thing.” He indicated the darts he had placed on the table. “Why don’t you get in some practice? I’ll take you on tomorrow. I bet I can still beat you.”

  “You’re on. Two quid says you won’t.”

  McNaughton left and Tyler picked up one of the darts. Truth was, he was relieved they had avoided the catch-up. Ben was a good chap in his own way but Tyler had no desire to rake over the coals of the past summer. He didn’t know if he’d ever want to.

  He aimed the dart and threw it. It missed the mark entirely, hit a wire, and bounced off onto the floor.

  Brian heard the clock in the downstairs hall chime out the quarter-hour. It was almost midnight. A few minutes and he’d see her. Hold her in his arms. He sat up. Should he go down to the shelter now? Better not. He wanted everybody in the house to be completely asleep.

  He could feel his pulse racing and he felt sweaty. The pills. They made it hard for him to sit still. He got off the bed. If he paced too much he risked waking his auntie, whose room was directly below. The house was old and the floors creaked. Maybe he would be better off to go to the shelter now. It would give him something to do. His parents had stayed until seven and, claiming he had a headache, he’d gone up to his room soon after. He’d been lying there ever since, wide awake, mulling over the situation, tight with anxiety. His dad had behaved better than he’d expected but he knew everybody was worried as to whether it would last. Would he go so far as to report his own son? Brian wished he had more confidence that he wouldn’t. Oh, sod it. He’d always been that way.

  He walked over to the window and, as quietly as he could, he pushed up the sash.

  When he was living with his grandparents during those troubled teenage years, he’d found a way to escape the house when he wanted to. Simple: just climb out the window onto the flat roof over the kitchen and slide down the drainpipe. Easy as pie and he’d never been caught, never overused the method. Not that he’d ever got into any serious trouble while he was out on the prowl. Just a bit of minor thievery – sweets, cigarettes mostly, and the occasional tryst with a girlfriend who was willing to keep quiet. Not Vanessa. Not then. She wasn’t that kind of girl. She was a virgin when they married.

  Night had brought back the fog and it came at him in a wave, making him cough. He didn’t mind. It was a blessing. It hid everything.

  His gran had fished out some of his granddad’s old clothes, and he pulled on a heavy jersey and a pair of plimsolls. He climbed out of the window and was down the drainpipe in a flash. At the bottom he waited for a mo
ment, but the night was dense and silent. He could have been at sea for all the sense of life there was around him. But he could make out the lighter colour of the path that led to the back of the garden, where they’d built the shelter. God, the fog was so thick. Vanessa might not be able to make it in this visibility. Should he go and meet her? Better not. He wasn’t sure which way she’d come. He’d just have to trust that she would struggle through.

  The bit of exercise had calmed him slightly. He pushed aside the shelter’s blackout curtain and went into the narrow entryway. He could risk a fag here. He lit up, taking the smoke deep into his lungs. He hadn’t smoked before he’d signed up, but a soldier who didn’t smoke was unheard of, and he wanted desperately to fit in. To be liked by the other men. And he was for the most part, although he had to endure his fair share of teasing. “Girlie” sometimes, because of his fair skin and wavy hair. “Lover boy” when they saw how he pined for Vanessa. “Goody Two-shoes” when he worked hard to obey the rules. What would they think now, he wondered. Probably wouldn’t believe it. What? Walmsley the Worm going AWOL? Not a chance.

  Wait! He could hear the soft crunch of footsteps on the gravel path. He lifted the edge of the curtain and peered out into the darkness. A thin beam from a shaded torch was wavering towards him.

  “Vanessa? Van, is that you?” he whispered.

  The light halted. “Who’s that?” a woman’s voice answered back.

  “Me. It’s me, Brian.”

  The light moved closer and he could make out Vanessa, muffled up against the fog. He jumped out at once and grabbed her in his arms, crushing her against him.

  “Nessa. Oh, my love,” he moaned into the scarf that she’d wrapped around her face, and with one swoop he lifted her up in his arms.

  “Brian—” she protested, but he carried her into the inner room of the shelter and dropped her onto the bunk bed.

  “Ow—”

  He ignored that, found her mouth, and, forcing open her lips, kissed her deeply.

  Finally she managed to break away sufficiently to move her head so she could look at him. “Brian, my God, let me get my breath. What are you doing here?”

  “Didn’t Jack tell you?”

  “Tell me what? He didn’t say anything.”

  “I’ve deserted.”

  She struggled to sit up on the bed. “Deserted? Oh my God, Brian, how could you?”

  He shrugged. “It just happened. I can’t exactly explain it. I was desperate to see you.”

  “Don’t blame me!”

  “I’m not blaming you. I’m just trying to explain. But I’m not going back.”

  “That’s ridiculous. If they catch you they’ll throw you in prison.”

  “I don’t give a shite. We were about to be shipped away to some godforsaken corner of the world and the thought of not seeing you for months and months, maybe years, was more than I could stand. Jesus love us, Ness, take your coat off. I’ve got to do it now.”

  She pushed at his chest. “We can’t do it in the shelter. What if there’s a raid and your grandparents come out?”

  “In this weather? Don’t be ridiculous. There won’t be a raid tonight.”

  He started to shove up her skirts with one hand as he undid his trouser buttons with the other.

  “Oh, my darling, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve dreamed of this, of being inside you again.”

  “Brian, for God’s sake.” But she was more responsive now, slipping out of her coat and pulling down her knickers. He pressed against her but he was too eager, too full, and he spilled himself all over her legs before he could penetrate her. He lay on top of her, panting, and after a minute she pushed him aside, swivelled her hips away, and sat up.

  “God, you’ve messed up my new skirt. Give me my hankie. It’s in my bag.”

  He grabbed her chin and turned her face to him. “I couldn’t help myself. There’s a lot more where that came from. In fact, I could probably go again in a few minutes. Let’s take our clothes off and get under the blankets.”

  “Bri! What if somebody comes?”

  “They won’t, I told you. And besides, we’re married, for God’s sake. Why shouldn’t we?”

  He tugged off his jersey and trousers and slipped under the blanket.

  Vanessa was rubbing at her skirt. “Turn down the light at least. It’ll be more romantic.”

  “No. I want to look at you. I’m starved to see you. Take off your jumper. Good. Now your skirt. Wow, look at you. You did prepare for me.”

  Vanessa was wearing a white lace brassiere and a pair of matching briefs. She shivered. “Course I did, silly. Oh, Bri. Let me get under the covers, I’m freezing.”

  She was about to climb into the bunk when he stopped her with his outstretched arm. “Hold on. Turn sideways.”

  “Bri, come on, it’s perishing in here.”

  “I said turn sideways.”

  Reluctantly she did so.

  “Putting on weight are you, Van?”

  “Yeah, too many cheese rolls. Besides, you were always on at me to put on some flesh. You kept saying I was a beanpole. Shove over, I’m coming in.” She got under the blanket and snuggled up against him. “Oh, Brian. It’s wonderful to see you.”

  He hugged her closer, rubbing her bare arm to warm her up. “I hope so. When you first come in, I wasn’t too sure.”

  “Don’t be such a silly goose. The fog makes everything creepy. I was a bit scared is all.”

  He kissed her. “You don’t need to be scared with me around.”

  She nuzzled into his neck. “It’s all very well to say that, but look at the pickle you’ve got yourself into.”

  “I’ve got plans, Ness. I know a bloke who can get us papers to go to Ireland.”

  “What? What do you mean, go to Ireland?”

  “Shh, shh. Don’t worry. We can wait out the war there. You always said you wanted to go abroad. You’re my wife. I won’t go without you. That’s what you want too, isn’t it?”

  “Course it is.”

  She lifted up her arm so she could look at her watch. “I’ve got to go. Mum and Dad will start to wonder where I am.”

  He caught her wrist. “I haven’t seen that watch before. Where’d you get it?”

  “One of the girls at the factory gave it to me. Little minx has two soldier boyfriends and they both gave her watches.”

  “Looks expensive.”

  “Naw, I doubt it. Just looks like it.”

  “I don’t know if I like you having another bloke’s present.”

  “No skin off your nose, is it. I needed a watch.” She pushed back the blanket and reached for her clothes. “I must go, Bri. I’m supposed to be on fire watch. They’ll be expecting me. I don’t want them to raise no alarm.”

  He took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. “You did miss me, didn’t you?”

  “Of course I did.”

  “I’m sorry I, er, I couldn’t do it properly. I’m too pent up. I’ll be all right when we’re in our own place in Ireland. It’ll be a honeymoon again. Remember how we went at it like rabbits – once, sometimes twice a day? Remember?”

  “I remember.”

  Something had leaked into her voice. He scowled. “I thought you liked it. I thought I satisfied you.”

  She smiled quickly. “Course you did. It was bloody marvellous.”

  “Will you be here tomorrow?” he asked.

  She was pulling on her jersey and her voice was muffled. “Not tomorrow. It’s too risky. Besides I’m too tired, Bri. I work, don’t forget.”

  “While I was away, you didn’t visit Mum and Dad much, did you. She wrote me about that.”

  She wriggled away from him and, sitting on the side of the bed, started to pull on her stockings, carefully so as not to snag them.

  “You know they can’t stand me. Why should I put up with your mother’s looks and secret insults? And your gran’s just as bad, you know. You might think butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but she
can be a right cow sometimes.”

  “Ness, that’s not fair. Why do you say that?”

  Vanessa imitated Beatrice’s voice. “Going out again, Vanessa? Must be nice to have extra money these days. You must have quite a nice bit of savings by now for the house you and our Brian are going to buy.”

  Brian frowned. “So do you?”

  “Do I what?”

  “Go out a lot?”

  “Why shouldn’t I? If you were me you wouldn’t want to sit at home with Mum and Dad arguing all night. And him getting pissed. Talk about savings. We’d be living in a palace if we had all the money he’s spent on booze. So yes, I go to the pictures whenever I can.”

  “Who do you go with?”

  “Girls from work.”

  “Like who?”

  She stood up abruptly. “For Christ’s sake, Bri. You sound like my ma.”

  She was glaring at him and he swallowed his anger quickly.

  “I’m sorry, pet. I know being separated has been hard on you too.” He tried to smile. “We won’t have to be apart much longer. Can you hold on?”

  She moved back a little so she could offer him her lips. “Just about.”

  They kissed, and when she broke away, she giggled. “Now look what’s happened. If you think I’m going to get undressed again, you’ve got another think coming.”

  He grinned at her. “That don’t mean we can’t still do something.” He directed her hand. “See, he’s good and strong now.”

  “Oh, all right, then.” She began to unfasten her skirt. “But promise you won’t shout like you usually do.”

  Donny made his way towards Endicott’s factory, walking at as fast a clip as he could. He loathed this weather. His coat was thin and cheap and the damp penetrated to the bone. He had no gloves. He couldn’t afford them and they were for poufters anyway. He tucked his chin into his muffler but even that wasn’t much help. It was very late but this was the time Comrade Patrick had given him. Personal contact was allowed only in an emergency. You had to mark a certain brick in St. Paul’s Church wall. Just your initial was all that was necessary. The Chief answered by chalking a time on another brick.