by Joan Jonker
‘Do you mean to say that me and me mate have been entertaining you for nearly twenty years! Well, if we’d known, we would have been selling tickets! Tuppence for a matinee and threepence for the first house in the front row of the stalls. And that would have been dirt cheap considering yer were sitting in the comfort of yer own home, no tram fares to pay, and no shoe leather used either!’
The sounds coming from the kitchen were of laughter mixed with the rattle of cups and spoons being placed on saucers. As he listened and smiled, Geoff Bridgewater was wishing all his calls were as pleasant as this. More often than not when he knocked on a door it was to tell some poor family that there’d been an accident and someone they loved was seriously ill in hospital. Or, worse still, had died. How he hated his job when he had to do that! Even though he told himself a hundred times that it was a service that had to be done, and someone had to do it, well, he wouldn’t be human if it didn’t get to him sometimes, would he?
Maggie came bustling in carrying a tray, her face wreathed in smiles. ‘I’m not going to tell lies and say I haven’t often watched you two through me window, but that’s as far as I’ll go ’cos I’ve got a feeling Monica’s going to ask for back payments on the street entertainment.’
‘She would if she was let,’ Kate said, following up with a plate of arrowroot biscuits. ‘But the officer hasn’t got time to waste, so let’s give him a chance to tell us what he came for.’ She took a cup and saucer from the tray and handed it to him. ‘Help yerself to sugar and milk.’
The four women made themselves comfortable before looking at him with eager anticipation. When he’d taken several sips of the hot tea, he placed the saucer carefully back on the tray and took out his notebook. ‘The prisoner’s name is Richard Willis, and he’s not from this area. I can’t give you his address, but I can say he lives on the other side of Liverpool. He’s known at several police stations there, and has served one prison sentence of two years for burglary. That doesn’t mean he’s only offended the once, far from it. It’s his livelihood, he makes a damn’ good living out of it, but the police have not been able to catch him a second time until now as he never leaves any clues. He’s known as Tricky Dicky ’cos he’s very crafty. Never works in his own area where he’d soon be recognized, and always gets the lay of the land before attempting to break into a house. He’ll pick on someone he thinks lives alone and is vulnerable. Someone like Miss Parkinson. He’ll pick them out at the shops and follow them home, watch the house for hours to see how many live there.’
When the officer leaned forward to pick up his cup again, Kate said, ‘Well, the crafty beggar! But if yer know all this, why hasn’t he been caught before?’
There was a deep chuckle from the policeman. ‘Because he’s never had four women waiting for him to come out of a house before! He only robs elderly people because they can’t hang on to him or give a very good description. If you had searched him a bit more yesterday, you’d have found a pair of gloves tucked down the front of his trousers. That’s why he never gets caught, he never leaves a fingerprint for the police to go on. In police stations around the city, they know about a string of robberies they suspect are down to him because of what we call his MO – that means his method of operation – but you can’t charge a person with a crime if you have no concrete proof.’
‘Do you think he’s been watching me, then?’ Miss Parkinson’s voice was shaky. She found the thought of someone following her every movement terrifying. ‘I’m sure I would have noticed if I was being followed.’
‘Not with Tricky Dicky you wouldn’t. He’s a professional, been doing it since he left school. He wouldn’t have got away with it for so long otherwise. Crooks don’t very often go on for years without being caught.’
‘People who buy from robbers are as bad as those who actually do the stealing,’ Miss Parkinson said. ‘They must know how upset people are when anything precious is taken from them. Apart from it being a sin.’
‘Oh, Tricky Dicky hasn’t been selling around the pubs like most petty thieves. We managed to get quite a lot out of him, the Inspector and myself. He was under the impression that if he cooperated it would serve him well when the case comes up in court, and we didn’t tell him otherwise. He told us where the other items of jewellery were stolen from so we’ll get them back to the owners today. And one man, who he called a “fence”, took everything he had to offer. Nothing ever went to his home, nor did he try to sell it to neighbours. But no amount of coaxing would get him to tell us who that “fence” is. Perhaps when our man’s in court he might change his mind and spill the beans. Anyway, officers will be out in force now, visiting jewellers and pawnshops, to see if they have any of the items we have listed as stolen.’
‘When is this bloke, this Tricky Dicky, going to court?’ Kate asked. ‘I wouldn’t mind being there to hear what his punishment is to be.’
‘He’ll be going before a magistrates’ court tomorrow, but that is only a formality, to set a date for the trial. Until then he’ll be kept in custody. If you wish I’ll let you know the date of the hearing and you can sit in court to hear what his fate will be. But I can assure you he’ll be going to prison for a long spell, probably four or five years.’
‘He deserves more than that for what he’s done,’ Maggie said. ‘All those people he’s robbed over the years, I haven’t got no sympathy for him.’
‘I’d like to go to the court, just to pull faces at him to let him know what we think of him. I’m good at curling me lip and sneering when I put me mind to it.’ Monica gave a demonstration. ‘I’ve never been in a court in me life, so it would be interesting.’
‘I believe ye’re not allowed to speak in court,’ Kate told her. ‘At least from what I’ve seen at the pictures. D’yer think yer could keep quiet for a couple of hours, sunshine?’
‘Ay, ye’re asking for it, you are, girl! Getting a little bit too big for yer boots and being sarky. If the police officer wasn’t here, I’d say yer were bleeding well showing off. But seeing as he is, I won’t say it until he’s gone.’
Sergeant Bridgewater gave a rumbling laugh. ‘I’m well used to choice words, ladies, and have often used them myself. Not at home, mind you, because my wife disapproves. But in my job, with the things we see, well, we’d have to be saints not to come out with the odd swear word. It helps to relieve the tension, let off a bit of steam.’
Monica gave Kate a dig in the ribs. ‘Did yer hear that, girl, what the officer said? That it does yer good to let off steam? Well then, perhaps yer’ll understand why I sometimes say a word that makes yer look down yer nose at me. I do it to relieve the tension.’
‘If you say so, sunshine, but how come, before the officer mentioned the word tension, I’d never heard yer use it before? And I bet after a night’s sleep yer’ll have forgotten it when yer wake up in the morning.’
‘Oh, no, I won’t, girl, ’cos I’m going to write it down as soon as I get in the house. I may get more sympathy from my feller if I tell him I’m suffering from tension.’ Monica was laughing inside at what she was going to say next. She knew her mate had a tendency to blush at the least thing, so she said, ‘I won’t tell him I’m suffering from tension on one of Robin Hood’s nights, though, I’m not going to cut off me nose to spite me face.’
Kate left her chair so quickly it would have fallen backwards if Maggie hadn’t caught it in time. ‘Monica, I think it’s time we left, so Miss Parkinson can have some peace.’ She patted the old lady’s hand. ‘We’ll be back later to sit with yer. Try and have some sleep before then, ’cos yer won’t get much rest when me mate here starts. Once she opens her mouth, she forgets how to close it.’
‘No, I don’t, girl, not any more.’ Monica knew Kate would start on her when they got outside, and was dying to laugh. ‘My feller showed me how to close me mouth last night. All I have to do is put me hand under me chin, press up, and hey, presto! I was as quiet as a mouse all night, honest!’
Kate grinned. ‘T
hen who was it I heard shouting that the kettle was boiling and would someone please see to it?’
‘Ah, yer can’t count that, girl, ’cos if I hadn’t yelled, there’d have been no arse left in the ruddy kettle.’
‘That does it!’ Kate said. ‘Up yer get, and home we go. And no messing either.’ She gave the sergeant a wink and a smile. ‘Sometimes I don’t know what to do with her. She’s worse than a child that’s out of control. At least with a child yer can smack them, but if I smacked me mate, she’d smack me back, twice as hard.’ She pulled Monica from her chair, saying, ‘Be a good girl and say ta-ra to everyone.’
Monica went into her little girl act, with her head hanging down and her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth. ‘Ta-ta, everyone, I’m going out with me mam now. She taking me to the park so I can have a go on the swings and roundabout.’ Sucking her thumb now, she waved. ‘Ta-ta.’
Kate was laughing when she said, ‘I could take yer to the park and leave yer there! Come on now, sunshine, and stop acting daft.’ She was pushing Monica towards the door when Miss Parkinson spoke.
‘Kate, if you’re going to the shops, would you be kind enough to post a letter for me?’
‘Yes, of course I would. Have yer got it ready?’
‘Yes, but I haven’t got a penny stamp. The letter’s to a niece of mine in Essex whom I haven’t seen in twenty years because of the distance. But we keep in touch with Christmas and birthday cards.’ The old lady ran a veined hand across her forehead as she sighed. ‘After what happened yesterday, and the fact that I’ve now turned eighty, I have decided it’s time to put my affairs in order. As Celia is my only living relative, there are things I would like to discuss with her.’
All three neighbours showed surprise because Miss Parkinson had never mentioned a relative. But no one voiced their thoughts. ‘I’ll put a stamp on, sunshine, and pop it in the pillar box. It will catch the one o’clock post so she should get it in the morning.’
‘Thank you, you are very kind. The letter is on the sideboard. And if you’ll pass me my purse out of the drawer, I’ll give you the penny for the stamp.’
Kate waved a hand in the air. ‘Don’t worry about the penny, for heaven’s sake! I’m not so hard-up.’ She picked up the envelope from the sideboard. ‘It will be on its way to her this afternoon, and with a bit of luck she’ll be reading it this time tomorrow.’ She bent down and kissed her neighbour’s wrinkled cheek. ‘Me and Monica have some shopping to do so we’ll love yer and leave yer. But we’ll be back later.’
After more farewells, the friends pulled the front door shut behind them, then linked arms to cross the street. ‘I was real surprised when she said she had a niece, she’s never mentioned it before. I always thought she was alone in the world.’
‘She might as well be if she only sees the niece every twenty years,’ Monica said. ‘Mind you, I haven’t a clue where Essex is, only that it’s a long way away.’
‘It must be, or they wouldn’t have left it so long to see each other.’ Kate inserted the key in the lock and pushed the door open. ‘Now let’s get cracking with that list of shopping we need or the morning will be over before we know it.’ She saw an expression on her friend’s face which she recognized straight away. ‘Oh, no, sunshine, we haven’t got time for a cuppa now so don’t be asking.’
Monica muttered under her breath, ‘Miserable bitch.’
Kate spun around. ‘What did yer just say?’
Her friend raised her brows. ‘I didn’t say nothing, girl!’
‘Oh, yes, yer did, I heard yer! Yer called me a miserable bitch!’
Monica’s face was a picture of innocence. Pressing a hand to her side and looking really put out, she said, ‘I said I had a stitch! Stitch, girl, not bitch! Yer want yer ears washing out, yer bad-minded so-and-so.’
Kate stood with her head tilted. She managed to keep the laughter from her face, but not from those deep brown eyes which were shining with mirth. ‘You must think I came over on the banana boat, sunshine. I may be hard-up but I’m not ruddy well hard of hearing, so don’t be telling lies.’ Her hands went on her hips. ‘When yer go to confession, do yer tell the priest about all the lies yer tell? I don’t think yer do or yer’d be in the church till they closed, saying all the prayers he’d given yer as penance.’
‘Nah, me and Father Kelly are like this.’ Monica crossed two fingers of her right hand. ‘He understands me and we get on fine. I never get any more than three Hail Marys.’
‘That’s because yer tell him ye’re as pure as the driven snow, that’s why.’
Monica held up one hand in surrender. ‘D’yer know what, girl? In the time yer’ve taken to tell me what a heathen I am, yer could have had the kettle on and boiled.’
Then, as though there hadn’t been a word spoken since they entered the house, Kate said, ‘That’s a good idea, sunshine! You see to the tea while I find a piece of paper and a pencil.’
‘I can’t wait for the party tomorrow,’ Nancy said, wriggling on the wooden chair because she couldn’t sit still. ‘Or to see what I’ve got for me birthday.’
‘It’s not really a party, sunshine, more of a tea. And although circumstances don’t allow for big expensive presents, I think yer’ll be quite happy with what yer get.’
‘Yeah, I know I will. It doesn’t matter what it is, it’s the thought of opening it up that I like, it’s exciting.’ Nancy had little appetite for her dinner tonight. All she could think of was that after tomorrow she’d be in her teens. And this time next year she’d be looking for a job. ‘Is Dolly getting the same as me?’
‘Well, me and yer Auntie Monica thought that if yer didn’t both get the same, there’d either be a crying match or blue murder. So we settled for a quiet life.’
Billy tried to curl his lip into a sneer, but although he thought he looked like James Cagney, he actually looked as though there was a bad smell under his nose. ‘I don’t want no party for my birthday. It’s daft sitting around a table eating jelly creams and fairy cakes, and pretending to be enjoying yerself. That’s more for little kids, and I’ll be eleven! I’d rather have the money so me and Pete can go to a matinee and see a cowboy film.’
‘Oh, well, you’re easily satisfied, sunshine!’ Kate said. ‘Instead of costing me and yer dad about five bob, it’ll only cost us coppers. Tuppence to get into the pictures, and a penny for a bag of sweets. That’s a load off me mind.’
Billy’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. ‘I didn’t mean I didn’t want presents, Mam,’ he spluttered, ‘only no party. Or tea, as yer call it. But I want me presents, same as our Nancy, or it wouldn’t be fair.’
Kate shook her head and tutted. ‘I thought it was too good to be true. It’s just a pity your birthday is two weeks away, or we could have had the one party for both of yer. Nancy and Dolly, and you and Pete.’
‘Ah, ay, Mam! I’m not sitting at the table with two girls!’ Billy couldn’t find the right words to say how disgusted he was that his mam would even think of it. ‘And if I told Pete, he’d think I’d gone doolally. He’d run a mile from a girl, he can’t stand them.’
‘Yer don’t know how lucky yer are, son, to get presents and have the chance of going to a party,’ John said. ‘When I was your age, there was no such thing because me ma couldn’t afford it. We were lucky if we got one decent meal a day. And when me dad died, and there was no money coming in, me ma took in washing to help with the rent money. She also scrubbed steps and cleaned windows, all to fetch in a few bob. She had it hard, did my ma, until our Alan left school and got a job. Then the year after I left school, and I’ll never forget how proud I felt on the day I gave me ma me first wage packet. I’d seen the way she’d had to struggle to bring me and our Alan up, and even though we were only earning buttons, we were both glad we could help her out. I thought the world of my ma. If I could, I would have given her the world.’
Nancy kicked sideways and caught her brother on his shin. ‘Yer see how lucky we are?
So stop yer moaning and think of someone else for a change.’ For good measure, she added, ‘Me and Dolly don’t want yer at the party anyway ’cos ye’re a misery guts and would spoil everything.’
‘All right, let’s not have an argument at the dinner table.’ Kate turned to her husband and changed the subject. ‘It’s a pity your Alan lives so far away, it would be nice if the families could meet up more often.’
‘Where is it Uncle Alan lives?’ Nancy asked. ‘I know I’ve asked yer loads of times but I keep forgetting ’cos it’s a funny name.’
‘I don’t think the people who live in Ormskirk think it’s a funny name, sunshine. We’re used to the areas of Liverpool ’cos we were born here,’ Kate said. ‘But a stranger to the city might think Bootle a funny name. Or the Dingle, Seaforth, Orrell Park, Fazakerley or Vauxhall! They’d all sound strange to someone who doesn’t live here. They’re built-up areas ’cos we live in the city. Yer Uncle Alan and Auntie Rose live in the country surrounded by farms and green fields.’
‘D’yer think we’ll ever go there one day, Mam?’ Billy asked. ‘I mean, when we’ve got the money. I’ve never seen what it’s like in the country.’
‘Ye’re not the only one, sunshine, ’cos neither have me or yer dad. It’s not for want of being asked, either, ’cos yer Uncle Alan always asks in his letters. And when we’ve got a few bob to spare, we’ll surprise him and Rose one day, and turn up on their doorstep.’
‘I’ll be working next year, Mam, so yer’ll be a bit better off then.’ Nancy’s eyes slid sideways to where her brother sat. ‘And I know it’s a long way off, but in a couple of years our Billy will be working as well, and yer’ll never be hard-up then.’