Wedding Bells for Woolworths

by Elaine Everest

  ‘Ruby’s right,’ Bob said. ‘I’d not like anything to happen to the poor dog. It was bad enough when we lost our Nelson, and he was an old boy – why, if his offspring hadn’t been dumped on our doorstep we’d still have been mourning him now.’ One look at Ruby and he could see he’d hit a raw nerve. ‘I still miss the old bugger,’ he said sadly, patting her hand. She gripped his and squeezed tightly.

  ‘What say I look into all this and let you know what I find out? Perhaps take a bit of time and do it right, if we want to own a champion racer?’

  ‘I’d go along with that,’ Bob said, giving Mike a grateful glance.

  ‘Me too. We can still go to watch the racing and have a dabble, can’t we? I’ve not been dog racing in ages,’ Ruby said, knowing that for now the question of them having a second dog had been put to bed. ‘Now we’ve agreed on that, what brings you over here this afternoon? It couldn’t just have been my baking.’

  Mike chuckled. ‘I don’t need a reason to visit you both. It was Dad I came to see. I thought you might be interested in some gardening items I’ve been offered. Old Joe down at the nurseries in Lower Road is retiring, and he said I could have first pick of his equipment. If you aren’t doing anything at the moment, I could give you a lift in the car to take a look?’

  Ruby frowned. ‘Should you be using the police car for such goings-on?’ she asked, slightly shocked that Mike would do such a thing.

  Mike guffawed. ‘There’s no need to worry, Ruby. I’m there on official work, so to speak.’

  Ruby wasn’t so sure what he was saying was the whole truth. ‘If it’s official business, why would you be taking your dad with you? What’s going on?’

  ‘Joe’s got a box of old crocks that he’s offered to the police station from when his wife used to run a cafe. They’re odds and sods, so no one else is likely to use them. They can’t be any more chipped than the ones we use at the station, so I’ve been delegated to drive down and collect them.’

  ‘That’s all right then. What are you waiting for, Bob? Be off with you while I get on with repairing these socks,’ Ruby said, giving her son-in-law a wink. Bob didn’t need any second bidding, and was reaching for his coat before she picked up the wooden darning mushroom.

  Mike kissed her cheek. ‘Don’t overdo things,’ he said, making a mental note to ask his dad about Ruby’s aches and pains.

  Freda took a step back as Frank Unthank watched her.

  ‘I’m not here to play your games,’ she said, sounding braver than she felt. Why oh why had she come here? She should have known better, and now she needed to think fast. ‘I have some money to give you, but please – can you not ask for so much interest on top? You may not know this, but Alan Gilbert served this country in the war. He flew Spitfires and was shot down by the enemy, and just missed being taken prisoner. He’s doing his best to run a business to keep a roof over the heads of his wife and young children. Can’t you see your way clear to be just a little lenient, if only for a war hero?’

  Frank Unthank watched Freda as she stopped to draw breath. His eyes never left hers and she held his look, not wanting to be the one to give in. Slowly a smile formed, showing his yellowing teeth. ‘You’ve got some pluck, girl, I’ll give you that. I like a bit of sport, and taming you would please me.’

  Freda gasped. She had to get out of here. Why the hell had she stood up to this creep? Alan would be so angry with her when she told him what had happened – that’s if she ever saw him again. She feared Unthank and his gang didn’t take to people like her giving them trouble. She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Oh well, it was worth asking you. I’ll bid you good day and be on my way,’ she said, giving what she hoped was a smile and not the fearful look she was fighting to suppress.

  ‘Not so fast, missy,’ he said, getting to his feet and walking towards her from behind the desk.

  It was the first time Freda had seen his full height, and her eyes widened in surprise. He was only six inches taller than her – if that – although he was almost as wide, and looked quite menacing with his black overcoat and greased-back hair that was a dark as the night. His appearance gave Freda renewed strength to stand up to him; somehow she didn’t feel intimidated any more, even though she knew his henchmen were just through the door in the outer office. ‘My friends will be expecting me,’ she said, looking pointedly at her wristwatch. ‘They will be concerned if I don’t show up soon. It’s been nice to meet you, but as you aren’t prepared to help me, I’ll be on my way.’

  Her mistake was to hold out her hand to shake his. In a flash he had grabbed her arm, twisting it behind her back until he had her in a vice-like grip. ‘Not so fast, my love,’ he breathed into her ear as he pushed her against the wall face first, slamming his body against hers.

  ‘Get off! You’re hurting me,’ she yelped in pain, her voice muffled by the wood cladding on the partition wall. Although she could feel the blood pulsing through her head, she tried to calm down and do her best to think clearly. Alan had once told her how vulnerable men could be in certain positions, and she had once had cause to make use of his advice. Could it work again now? She would need a few inches to be able to raise her knee, so shuffled back a little, her body getting closer to the man’s.

  ‘That’s more like it. Decided to become a bit more friendly, have you?’ he grunted in her ear.

  Freda did her utmost not to shudder as the stench of stale cigarettes wafted in her face. It was now or never, she thought to herself. She raised her knee and bent it forward before kicking back and catching him with the heel of her shoe where it would hurt most. He groaned in shock and staggered backwards, giving her time to reach for the door handle. Bolting through the door, she crashed into the arms of a tall man who caught hold of her tightly. Was there no escape? She felt a wave of oblivion wash over her, and her knees buckled.

  ‘Hey, Freda,’ she heard a distant voice call to her as she shook her head and tried to pull away. How did they know her name?

  ‘Leave me alone – let me go,’ she cried, trying to fight against the person holding her close.

  ‘It’s all right, Freda – it’s me, Mike Jackson. Calm down, love,’ he said. ‘No one’s going to harm you.’

  Freda looked up into the friendly face she knew so well. ‘How did you find me?’

  ‘You can thank Bessie for that. We spotted her parked up against the wall, and came in to look for Alan. Shall we go outside?’

  She nodded as Mike led her by the arm from the building. He muttered civil goodbyes in an authoritative tone that made it clear he didn’t expect any answers. Outside, she blinked in the bright sunlight and took a deep breath. ‘Thanks, Mike,’ was all she could manage.

  ‘So the kids were right – she was in there,’ Bob said, giving Freda a quizzical look. ‘Do you want to tell us about it?’

  ‘Not here, eh, Dad?’ Mike nodded towards Frank Unthank’s office. ‘I don’t trust the chap to stay in there and behave himself. There’s a cafe down the road a bit. Are you all right to push Bessie down there?’ he asked Freda. ‘I’ll follow you in the car.’

  ‘I’ll stay with Freda,’ Bob said as he tossed a coin to the crowd of boys, who’d been watching all agog for something to happen.

  ‘I’ll be fine, Bob,’ Freda said as she swung a leg over the bike and prepared to push off. ‘I’ll see you down there.’

  ‘Well, go slow, because I’m not leaving your side in case that mob comes after you – and I’m not so good at running,’ he said, stepping beside her. Freda threw him a grateful look, and instead of turning on the engine she freewheeled alongside him towards the cafe.

  After parking up the motorbike they joined Mike in the steamy cafe, where he’d already placed an order at the counter. ‘It’ll be with us shortly,’ he said as he joined them at a table by the window where they could keep an eye on Bessie and the police vehicle. ‘Now, what’s this all about? The last place I’d have expected to see you was in Unthank’s office. You know what he does for a living
, don’t you?’

  Freda looked glum. ‘Yes, he’s a moneylender.’ And now he has all the money I’m supposed to hand over to pay for the motorbike parts, she thought to herself.

  ‘He’s got his fingers in all kinds of pies – moneylending is just one thing he dabbles in,’ Mike said. ‘He’s a nasty bit of work, and could have hurt you.’

  ‘Why were you there?’ Bob asked, as a waitress wearing a none-too-clean apron approached with a tray containing three large mugs of tea and three bacon rolls. ‘Bacon and decent rolls?’ he added, forgetting Freda for a moment as he licked his lips. ‘You don’t see those every day of the week.’

  ‘It’s a perk of the job,’ Mike winked before his expression grew serious once more. ‘Yes, why were you in there, Freda?’

  Freda looked suitably ashamed, but as much as she loved these two men and thought of them both as family, she couldn’t give away Alan’s secret. With Bob being married to Ruby and her being Sarah’s grandmother, the secret would soon be out and Alan’s problems would become common knowledge.

  ‘I’d borrowed some money from them, and was paying it back,’ she said, crossing her fingers under the flowery tablecloth and feeling worse than she’d ever felt in her life for telling such fibs. She pushed the plate away, feeling sick to her stomach. ‘I’m not hungry, thanks all the same,’ she said. ‘I need to get off as I’ve got something to collect for Alan. Thanks for the tea and for rescuing me,’ she added before getting up and leaving the two men to their thoughts. Outside, she could just see to climb onto the motorbike as her tears flowed unchecked.

  ‘Well, that was rather queer,’ Bob said as he tore the remaining bacon roll in two and placed half on Mike’s plate. ‘I’ve not known the girl to be in debt before. I’d best have Ruby speak to her.’

  ‘Would you mind keeping this to yourself for the time being, Dad? I don’t think our Freda is telling the whole truth. And for her to lie to us like that means she’s covering for someone.’

  ‘Could it be Alan? She’s always hanging about his workshop.’

  Mike nodded his head thoughtfully. ‘Something doesn’t add up.’

  ‘Then let’s keep it between the two of us for the time being until it does,’ Bob said, biting into his roll. ‘Eat up, before your bacon gets cold.’

  Freda fired up Bessie’s engine and headed back towards Erith. Alan would be wondering where she’d got to, and she wasn’t sure how to tell him she’d paid off part of his debt, furthermore annoying the owner of the motorbike spares shop when she cancelled the items they didn’t need. At the time she had been thinking only of the cash that could be saved, but now she wasn’t sure if she’d lost Alan a supplier.

  After leaving Mike and Bob in the cafe, Freda had popped back to her house to collect her post office savings book. She’d withdrawn the same amount of money she’d given to Frank Unthank, before hurrying to collect and pay for the spares. What a mess she’d made of everything! And Alan still owed Frank Unthank a vast sum of money.

  She powered up Bessie and turned down Pier Road, knowing she had to get back to the workshop as quickly as possible. The street was almost empty due to early closing, and despite her worries she enjoyed the warm sun on her face, wishing only that she’d worn goggles to shade her eyes. The next moment she heard a cry and, blinded by the bright light, found herself being propelled over the handlebars and landing on something soft that began to protest loudly.

  ‘Damn you, woman! Why don’t you look where you’re going?’ a voice exclaimed before groaning loudly. ‘Arrgghh – my leg!’

  Freda scrambled to her feet, looking to where Bessie lay on the pavement by the main Woolworths entrance. She stretched her arms and legs, surprised that nothing seemed to hurt – Alan’s motorbike jacket had helped to protect her – before turning to look in bewilderment at the man on the ground, who was still protesting loudly. His bicycle lay crumpled against the kerb. ‘Where did you come from?’ she asked, shading her eyes from the sun.

  ‘I was turning to come out of the alley beside Woolworths, and you appeared from nowhere.’

  Freda frowned. She knew that voice. ‘Aren’t you that rude trainee manager?’ she asked without thinking. Perhaps it was the shock, but she felt oddly detached from the situation and wished he’d get to his feet and go away, as she really should be back at Alan’s workshop. What if Mike or Bob should say something to Alan before she’d managed to explain what had happened at Frank Unthank’s office? He would be furious.

  ‘Yes, I am a trainee manager. Are you going to help me up, or let me stay here on the road until someone else tries to run me over?’

  ‘You are a most disagreeable person,’ Freda muttered as she took his arm and hauled upwards, expecting him to get onto his feet. Instead he rolled on the ground, groaning loudly.

  ‘My leg is buggered,’ he managed, before falling into a dead faint.

  ‘Oh, good gracious! Whatever has happened here? We heard the noise from the office,’ Betty Billington said as she rushed from the staff door of Woolworths, closely followed by Sarah.

  ‘It was an accident,’ Freda said. Her bottom lip started to quiver. ‘I was blinded by the sunlight, and he came out of the alleyway and I didn’t see him.’

  ‘Did you fall off Bessie?’ Sarah looked to where the bike still lay.

  George Jones hurried over from Misson’s. ‘I saw it happen,’ he puffed. ‘He came out of nowhere. Freda didn’t stand a chance. I’ve sent the lad up to get the doctor – although I think we need an ambulance, looking at the state of his leg.’

  ‘It’s on its way,’ a woman called from an upstairs window of the Hedley Mitchell store. ‘If you want a witness, I saw it happen. She ran straight into him.’

  Betty tried not to smile at the conflicting witness observations. It didn’t seem right when both involved were staff of F. W. Woolworths. ‘Should we make Anthony more comfortable, do you think? We have some blankets in the first aid room.’

  ‘I’m fine, apart from my leg,’ Anthony said weakly as his eyes opened. He tried to prop himself up on an elbow.

  ‘I’ll get the bike stood upright,’ Sarah said, backing away. She had never been very good at coping with the sight of blood, and felt quite faint.

  ‘I’ll help you, love,’ George said as she struggled to lift the motorbike. ‘Why, you’d hardly know it had been in an accident. Just a few scratches and a small dent. It’s certainly a sturdy old motorbike. Your husband’s, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, it was Alan’s dad’s. It’s his pride and joy.’ Sarah felt quite weepy, thinking how much Alan loved the bike and how easily Freda could have been killed. That girl must have more lives than a cat, the scrapes she’s been in, she thought as she gave Bessie a look over.

  George just nodded, then coughed to clear his throat. He liked young Freda, and she could have killed herself today rather than just ending up with a small cut on her chin that she’d yet to notice.

  ‘I’m going to walk the bike back to Alan’s workshop,’ Sarah called out to Betty, who was kneeling beside Anthony. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Can you lock the side door for me before you leave please, Sarah? I’m going to accompany Anthony to the hospital.’

  ‘There’s no need,’ the lad protested. ‘Can someone take care of my bicycle until I can collect it?’

  ‘I’m going with you, and that’s final,’ Betty said, dismissing his protests. ‘If I recall from my staff records, you live around here in lodgings. Do you have family I can contact?’

  ‘There’s no one,’ he muttered, looking embarrassed.

  ‘I’ll take the bicycle up to Alan’s workshop. Perhaps he can fix it,’ Freda said, feeling she should offer to help.

  ‘Thank you, but it could be past repairing,’ Anthony said sullenly as he glared in her direction. Freda blushed.

  ‘I truly didn’t see you,’ she said. ‘But if it helps, I’ll chip in with the cost of the repairs,’ she added, thinking how her savings had taken a
nosedive today.

  ‘Here, I’ll push the bike and you take Bessie,’ Sarah said, relieved that she didn’t have to handle the motorbike. ‘Don’t forget your duffel bag,’ she added, nodding to the bag full of motorbike parts which lay on the pavement.

  Freda grabbed the bag and hurried over to where Bessie stood, hardly any the worse for wear. ‘I’ll ride Bessie up to the workshop to check she’s not suffering after the crash,’ she said to Sarah, and hopped on without waiting for an answer. She needed to speak to Alan urgently, before his wife appeared on the scene.

  Alan was deep in thought as he swept the floor of the empty workshop. Why he’d stopped to write a list of paying jobs, he had no idea, as he knew there were only two small repairs outstanding and they’d bring just a few pounds to the kitty. If he didn’t have to wait for Freda to return, he’d have locked up and gone home early – and possibly stopped at the Prince of Wales for a pint on the way.

  A loud bang on the wooden door had him almost jump out of his skin. It was too loud a knock for it to be Freda, even though she was late coming back, he thought as he looked at the clock hanging on the wall. Perhaps it was Unthank’s men, come back to complete their unfinished business. Picking up a crowbar, he approached the door with caution. He’d not go down without a fight. ‘Who are you and what do you want?’ he shouted as he flung back the door, raising his weapon for protection.

  ‘Whoa, man – I come in peace,’ a familiar voice called out in alarm.

  The late afternoon sun flooded in through the open door, and for a moment Alan was blinded. Surely it wasn’t . . .? Could it be . . .? ‘Lemuel, is that you?’

  ‘The one and only,’ said the tall, well-built man as he stepped into the workshop. ‘Would you mind putting that down, man? It’s making me nervous.’

  Alan looked at the crowbar in his hand, then dropped it before leaping onto his friend and hugging him in delight. ‘Well, blow me down. What are you doing in this neck of the woods? I thought you’d gone home to Trinidad after we were demobbed. What are you doing here, when you could be living in the sun?’