It's Now or Never

by June Francis

  Sam watched him, fascinated. ‘You’re double-jointed, aren’t you, Nick?’

  The youth didn’t appear to hear him, saying only, ‘I knew there wouldn’t be any money there. I’d already worked out that a rotten murdering swine had broken in and robbed us and killed Dad!’ His eyes were suddenly wet and he wiped them with the back of his hand.

  ‘I think the boy’s had enough,’ said Chris’s mother hesitantly. ‘He must be exhausted.’

  The inspector nodded. ‘Can he stay here until we sort matters out for him?’

  She nodded.

  Sam stood up and he and the inspector thanked her and Nick and left. Sam felt wide-awake despite the hour. What a day it had been! A wonderful one for his sister and her new husband but a lousy one for the victim and his orphaned son. A bright lad who noticed things. Not everyone would have spotted that the door had been made to look as if it had been forced. Whoever had done this had gained free access to the shop. Posing as a last-minute customer perhaps? Sam hoped they’d catch the bugger who’d done this soon.

  As he sat in the police car his mind went back over his day. It had been a peculiar day what with the wedding and then a murder. Interesting and fun meeting up with Lynne Donegan and Lenny Colman. Who’d have ever thought he’d have ended up owning a coffee bar? He had exchanged a few words with Dorothy and Lenny on his way out, explaining that there had been a murder. Lenny had said it had come as no surprise to him that Sam had joined the police force or that Dorothy had become an actress as she had always been good at pretending to be someone else – a comment which had surprised Sam, causing him to wonder just how well the two had known each other when they were kids.

  Nineteen

  ‘So, have you caught your murderer yet?’ asked Dorothy, hoping to persuade Sam that she was really interested in his work.

  It was one o’clock on Wednesday afternoon and they had little time to spend together. Dorothy had phoned the Walker household earlier that day to inform Sam that she had to leave Liverpool that evening after receiving a phone call from the film company. She had been fortunate to be able to speak to him. After the wedding, he had worked most of Easter Sunday and the bank holiday and ever since. Apparently there had been another break-in yesterday.

  ‘We’ve arrested a couple of youths,’ said Sam, opening the vestibule door of the hotel for her to go out. ‘One of the neighbours noticed something suspicious when he was adjusting his television aerial and so had his wife phone the police straightaway.’

  ‘So have they confessed?’ asked Dorothy.

  Sam shook his head. ‘They completely deny having anything to do with the break-in and murder on Saturday and I believe them.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked, as they stood on the pavement.

  ‘They don’t seem the sort. I think they’re new to the game. One was full of bluster but it was obvious that underneath he was terrified at being caught and about what his parents would say. The other admitted straightaway that it was his first time when I mentioned the other break-ins.’

  ‘The son of the murdered man, what’s happened to him?’ asked Dorothy.

  ‘His uncle came and took him back to his house in Flintshire,’ murmured Sam, frowning.

  ‘What’s the frown for? Thinking it’s a bit of a way to go if you have to question either of them again?’

  ‘Something like that,’ said Sam, although he was not thinking that at all but of Nick Rogers’ expression when he saw his uncle. Despite Dennis Rogers’ show of affection, Sam had sensed there was no love lost between the two. The couple who had been looking after Nick had been willing to have him continue living with them, but the uncle had been adamant that the boy should go with him as he was his legal guardian.

  Sam changed the subject. ‘What d’you want to eat? Chinese?’

  ‘That’s fine with me.’

  She linked her arm through his and they crossed the cobbled road and took a short cut through into Renshaw Street where there was a Chinese restaurant not far from Sam’s favourite bookshop. It was not until they were seated at a table and a waiter had taken their order that Dorothy said, ‘So what was all that about, you dancing with the dressmaker in that peculiar way?’

  Sam smiled faintly. ‘I didn’t know you saw us.’

  Dorothy rested her elbows on the table and laced her hands together. ‘I didn’t but someone told me about it.’

  ‘Who told you?’

  ‘Hester’s friend Wendy. I don’t think she likes me.’

  ‘You’re imagining it.’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ she said crossly. ‘Hester’s told me that she’s always had a soft spot for you. Thinks you’re the bee’s knees and you do seem to be putting yourself out for Lynne Donegan. What did you talk about?’

  Sam’s smile vanished. ‘We scarcely spoke. I danced with Lynne in that peculiar way as you point out because it saved me from getting my toes trodden on. I think she enjoyed herself. I forgot to ask whether you gave Lenny your autograph?’

  ‘He asked but I forgot because after he apologized for upsetting me, we got talking about the old street and when we were kids. I asked him about Lynne Donegan but he said he’d only just met her.’

  ‘Betty Booth introduced them.’

  ‘I know that now! It was a relief, I must admit,’ she murmured absently, taking out her cigarette case and putting a cigarette between her painted lips without offering him one.

  ‘Why was it a relief?’ asked Sam.

  His question seemed to fluster her because she dropped her cigarette. ‘Damn!’ she exclaimed, bending to pick it up. ‘I’m all fingers and thumbs this afternoon.’

  ‘Excitement, I suppose,’ drawled Sam, lighting her cigarette for her from his pocket lighter. ‘Soon you’ll be away from Liverpool and enjoying doing what you like best.’

  ‘It’s my job, Sam.’ Her hand trembled slightly as she put away her cigarette case. ‘The money’s good and I’ve got to seize my chances while I can.’ She smoked jerkily. ‘Did she mention that I volunteered to go and visit her grandmother to make up for my rudeness?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Lynne Donegan, of course!’

  ‘No, I told you we hardly spoke.’

  ‘I’m surprised. I thought the pair of you might have had lots to talk about. You were so friendly with her in the church.’

  Sam tapped his fingers on the tablecloth. ‘I was being polite. She was all on her own. I thought you might have been kind to her.’

  Dorothy sighed. ‘So you didn’t talk about me?’

  ‘You mean because you’re famous?’

  Dorothy flushed. ‘I didn’t mean that.’

  ‘So what did you mean?’ asked Sam. ‘You’ve got me wondering what this is all about.’

  She reached for the ashtray on the table and stubbed out her cigarette and sighed heavily, thinking she would have been better keeping quiet about him dancing with Lynne. She should have had more sense because if Lynne had said anything, he would have asked her straight out if it was true. She only knew that the other woman presented her with a threat and she did not enjoy the feeling of dread that came over her just thinking about her.

  ‘What’s the big sigh for?’ said Sam with obvious patience. ‘I can’t believe you’re jealous of her.’

  Dorothy sat up straight. ‘I’m not jealous of her and that’s the truth. I don’t envy the life she leads. I like my life!’

  ‘As it is, I suppose. You doing what you want and having me on a string,’ said Sam grimly.

  ‘You had your mind set on buying a car before Christmas and that’s what you did!’ Dorothy flung the words at him.

  ‘I’d have bought you an engagement ring and set a date for our wedding but you didn’t want that. Perhaps we should call it a day,’ muttered Sam. ‘You could be free to do whatever you wanted then and so could I.’

  His words scared her because although she’d imagined what it would be like to be completely free of him, she didn’t want to let him go. ‘I can’t be
lieve you said that just because I mentioned you dancing in that peculiar way with our little dressmaker.’

  ‘It’s more than that and you know it,’ said Sam heatedly. ‘You’re going to be away for I don’t know how long and when you come back I bet you’ll change your mind and decide you have to make that documentary. That’s if you’re not asked to star in another film and you decide it would be crazy to refuse,’ he said, tracing a pattern on the tablecloth with his fork.

  She almost blurted out, How did you know? But, of course, he couldn’t possibly know that there was a chance of that. He was only guessing. Even so she began to have doubts about whether he had told her the truth about Lynne. ‘It’s her, isn’t it? She criticized me, didn’t she?’

  Sam stared at her incredulously. ‘Are you calling me a liar?’

  ‘I want you to promise not to see her while I’m away!’

  ‘So now you don’t trust me. I’m making no such promises.’

  ‘Why not? Because you’d break them? I’ve a good mind to leave right now.’

  ‘Don’t let me stop you,’ said Sam coldly.

  She had not really intended walking out on him but pride and anger caused her to reach for her coat and handbag and, getting up from the table, she walked out of the restaurant without a backward glance. She half-expected him to come after her, to say sorry and that they mustn’t part in such a way.

  But he didn’t.

  She kept on walking, up Renshaw Street until she reached Lycee Street. She continued on up there, thinking to turn left at Roscoe Street or Rodney Street which would take her into Mount Pleasant where the hotel was but suddenly she remembered Lenny and his coffee bar. Why shouldn’t she go in there and have a coffee and a snack?

  As she pushed open the door she realized immediately that the place was full of teenagers; all appearing to be talking at once and from the jukebox came music that she recognized as Alma Coggan. She could not see an available table – or Lenny for that matter – and was about to leave when a voice said, ‘It’s Dorothy Wilson, isn’t it?’

  Oh no! she thought, having forgotten that Betty Booth worked here when she wasn’t at college.

  ‘Hello,’ said Dorothy, clutching her handbag tightly. ‘I see you’re full up.’

  ‘Pretty much! Didn’t expect to see you here.’ Betty smiled. ‘Were you wanting to have a word with Lenny? He was telling me that you knew each other from yonks ago. You can go in the back if you like. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to see you and I’ll bring you in a coffee, shall I?’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Dorothy, thinking she couldn’t very well refuse. It would appear unfriendly and she didn’t have to stay long.

  She followed Betty, squeezing between tables and chairs and went through a door that led into a kitchen. It was welcomingly warm in there and the smell of cooking reminded her that she had left Sam to deal with her chicken chow mein. She felt a twinge of guilt.

  ‘Hello, Dot! What are you doing here?’ asked Lenny, placing two bacon butties on plates. ‘Slumming it?’

  ‘Why d’you have to say that as if I’m some kind of snob?’ she retorted, her eyes flashing with annoyance.

  ‘It was a bad joke. Why are you here?’ he said mildly.

  ‘I was just passing and thought I’d look in. I’m leaving Liverpool this evening.’

  ‘So you came to say goodbye?’ He sounded amused.

  ‘You don’t believe me?’

  ‘No.’

  She spotted a chair and sat down. ‘You’d be right not to do so.’

  He walked past her and, opening the door, shouted to Betty who came running, tore a page from her order pad and placed it down before carrying out the plates of bacon butties.

  ‘My feet are killing me,’ said Dorothy, easing off a black patent leather shoe decorated with a leather bow at the front. ‘It’s a bit of a climb up here.’ She wriggled her toes.

  ‘So why make the effort?’ asked Lenny, gazing at her legs before glancing at the order. He took sausages from a refrigerator and placed several in a frying pan on a hot plate.

  ‘I had an argument with Sam and walked out on him.’

  ‘Hah! Had a feeling it would be something like that. Didn’t argue over me, did you?’

  ‘You flatter yourself!’

  He grinned. ‘Then go back to him and make up.’

  ‘I should, I suppose. I left him in the Chinese with a beef curry and a chicken chow mein to eat.’

  ‘That’s mean. I know he’s a big fella but even so …’

  She got up from the chair. ‘I’ll see you then.’

  ‘Yeah, see yer. Hope everything goes well with the filming. Get me some autographs of the rich and famous if you will?’

  ‘Will do,’ said Dorothy, and left.

  As she made her way through the packed coffee bar to the outside door, Betty caught up with her. ‘You going already?’

  ‘Yes! I’m leaving Liverpool this evening to begin filming.’

  ‘Good luck!’ said Betty.

  Dorothy thanked her and went outside and stood a moment, breathing deeply of air that was a little fresher since the new Clean Air Act had been passed. Italy! she thought with a rising excitement. Then she began to make her way back to Renshaw Street, hoping to find Sam still at the restaurant.

  To her relief he was at the table where she had left him, drinking coffee. He raised his eyebrows when he saw her. ‘Women! Always changing their minds,’ he said in an emotionless voice. ‘You’re too late. I’ve eaten yours.’

  Dorothy sat down opposite him. ‘I’m sorry. I deserve that.’ It took her a lot to say what she said next. ‘If you want to see our little dressmaker, feel free. I know I can trust you. Just remember that you’re a very attractive man and she’s probably desperate for a husband.’

  Sam’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I have any intention of seeing her?’

  Dorothy could not disguise her relief. ‘I also have to ask you a favour. Would you mind popping a note through her door apologizing for me, saying I won’t be able to visit her grandmother for a chat about the theatre after all.’

  ‘I’ll see it’s done.’

  She paused and looked about her. ‘Now where’s that waiter? I need to order another chicken chow mein, knowing that my boyfriend is a pig having eaten mine.’

  ‘I lied. I didn’t eat your chow mein because I cancelled it. Now tell me, where did you go when you left here?’

  ‘I just walked round the block, looking in the shop windows,’ said Dorothy, reluctant to tell him the truth about having dropped in on Lenny.

  ‘I don’t suppose you saw anything that you wanted to buy that matched up to Bond Street?’ He lit up a cigarette.

  ‘I’ve packed all I need,’ she said.

  Their parting was less strained than she thought it might be. At least he kissed her and told her not to work too hard on set and enjoy herself in Italy.

  It was only as the train pulled out of Lime Street station that Dorothy thought of Lynne again and wondered if Sam would deliver her apology in person.

  Twenty

  Lynne looked up from embroidering a patch pocket on a skirt and glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and saw that it had gone eight o’clock. For a moment her eyes rested on the corner of the envelope stuck behind the clock and then her thoughts returned to the guest they had been expecting. She doubted Dorothy was going to turn up now and had mixed feelings about her failure to do so. Part of her was relieved but she knew that Nan would be disappointed. There were few things her grandmother enjoyed more than reminiscing about the old days in the theatre.

  ‘She isn’t coming, is she?’ wheezed Nan, shifting restlessly in her chair.

  ‘She might yet,’ said Lynne.

  ‘I bet she’s forgotten. Too busy to give an old woman some of her time.’ She paused. ‘And where’s our Bobby?’

  ‘She’s gone on a message and should be back soon,’ said Lynne.

  No sooner had she spoken than there
came a rat-a-tat-tat at the front door. Lynne wasted no time going to answer its summons and was surprised to see Betty standing on the doorstep.

  ‘I hope I’m not too late?’ said Betty hastily. ‘Only I’ve a message for you. Dorothy Wilson had a phone call this morning and had to go to London.’

  ‘How did you get to know?’ asked Lynne.

  ‘She came into the coffee bar to give her autograph to Lenny and mentioned that she was supposed to be coming here to talk to your Nan.’

  ‘That’s right. Thanks for letting me know. Come on in.’

  The two went into the kitchen and Lynne introduced Betty to her grandmother. ‘Nice to meet you, girl,’ said Nan, shaking hands. ‘We were expecting that actress, Dorothy Wilson. I was looking forward to talking to her about the theatre.’

  ‘I know. What a shame!’ Betty sat down opposite the old lady and glanced up at Lynne. ‘I thought you’d be interested to know that after listening to the fellas play at the wedding, Lenny’s giving serious thought to getting a licence and hiring them to play a couple of evenings a week.’

  ‘Good for him and good for the group,’ said Lynne, smiling.

  ‘That’s what I said,’ said Betty.

  There was a pause and then Lynne said, ‘How about a cup of tea and a jam tart? Our Bobby made them this afternoon.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Betty. ‘And while I’m waiting, perhaps your gran would like to talk to me in place of Dorothy about her memories of the theatre.’

  Lynne beamed at her and turned to the old woman. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Nan?’

  Instantly the old woman nodded and shifted in the chair and eased back her shoulders. Earlier the lines of her face had drooped, but now her eyes were bright and she was looking so much more cheerful. ‘If you’re sure, girl?’

  ‘Of course, I’m sure. My mum loved the theatre and worked behind the scenes and used to play the odd minor role. You might even remember her.’

  Nan was about to ask her name when there was a sound at the door.