“I know Winnie never had any living relatives,” Patty said, watching the last of the procession pass.
“No idea what will happen to the poor thing then,” Ron said, noticing the children there and casting a knowing glance at his wife.
Knackers yard probably.
Making their way into the grounds of the church, Ron and Pam walked to where Albert and a dishevelled looking Bob stood, his wife Flo adjusting his suit, whilst Patty and her children entered the confines of the church itself.
“Alright Albert, Bob,” Ron said, shaking their hands, before giving Flo a hug, “and you Flo love.”
“Aye, as well as can be Ron,” Albert replied sadly.
“It’s heart-breaking,” Pam said, “we still can’t find out if he’d any living relatives.”
“I knew Archie for most of my life,” Albert remarked, “and as far as I am aware, there’s nobody left.”
“He didn’t have any children, did he?” Bob asked, staring at the people entering the church, whilst Flo adjusted the knot in his tie.
“No,” Albert replied, “Archie mentioned to me he and Winnie always wanted children, but it didn’t happen. Sad really, considering how much they both loved kids.”
“That he did,” Pam said, “he always had a lot of time for them, the children in our street loved the bones of him.”
“It’s a wonder he made any money at all, the amount of treats he used to give them,” Ron added.
Looked for somewhere to discard her cigarette, Pam was unable to locate anywhere to place it.
Ron, seeing his wife’s predicament, took it from her hand and dropped it to the floor, placing his foot on it, grinding it into the patch of soil underneath.
Pam, looking at him disapprovingly, received a smile and a shrug of his shoulders in return.
“Just thinking,” her husband said.
“That makes a change love,” she interrupted with a smile.
“Har de har,” he replied, “I was just thinking, that carriage must have cost a fair few bob. I thought Archie’s will hasn’t turned up yet?”
“As far as I’m aware, it hasn’t,” Albert replied.
“God help you when it does Albert,” Bob said, receiving a nudge from his wife’s elbow, for his profanity in the grounds of the church.
“Why’s that?” Pam asked, wrapping her jacket tighter around her shoulders, to keep off the chill of the afternoon breeze.
“You must have heard him go on about it?” Bob asked.
“I heard him enough times,” Ron replied, “said the church could have his house and Albert here, could have his old boat and Comet.”
“I told him enough times,” Albert said, “what am I supposed to do with a horse?”
“You could always ride him to work, instead of that auld bike of yours,” Ron replied, giggling.
“Ronnie, it’s neither the time nor place for joking,” Pam said, gently nudging his side.
“Archie would have appreciated that one,” Albert said with a smile.
“That he would,” Bob agreed, looking to the sky, “probably sat up there right now next to Winnie, having a good old laugh at the thought of watching poor Albert, trying to take the boat out on the Mersey with Comet setting the sails.”
The men laughed together whilst Pam and Flo tutted at them, though sporting their own smiles.
“Still,” Albert said, “no chance of that until somebody finds the will. Archie didn’t leave it with any legal type, as he always said he didn’t trust them as far as he could throw them”.
“’Ere,” Bob interrupted, pointing to a car pulling up nearby, “who’s that bloke?”
They watched, as a man stepped from the front of the vehicle, walking to one of its rear doors, before opening it to allow his passenger to step outside.
“It must be some bigwig or other, if he’s got a driver,” Ron said.
“Bigwig or not, let’s get inside before we miss the service,” Pam said, placing her arm under her husbands, leading them to the church entrance.
The service itself was a sombre affair, as funeral services are, though lasting a lot longer than most of the congregation had anticipated when they awoke that morning.
“It is with great sadness, we are gathered here today to say goodbye to our beloved friend Archibald…”
It was agreed with the vicar beforehand, Albert would read out messages from people who knew Archie best. The vicar also read out a heartfelt eulogy of his own in respect of Archie, knowing him for many years.
“We have to check on Comet,” Robert said, as they left the building afterwards.
“One of his neighbours is popping in each day to keep an eye on him, until they can figure out where he’s going.” A voice said from behind him.
They turned and met the gaze of the vicar.
“I do believe, it is usual in these cases if the deceased leaves behind them a cherished pet, then it’s down to the family or those he knew best to arrange a home for them. But I must admit this is a more sorry different case entirely,” he said with genuine sadness.
“Why is that Father?” Patty asked.
“Well my child, as far as we are aware, Archibald left behind no kin whatsoever and after all, Comet is not the usual sort of pet people leave behind.”
“Pardon me for interrupting, that was a wonderful service Father,” the man who arrived by the chauffeured car, interrupted, “Archie will be looking down with a smile on his face, that’s for sure.”
“Why, thank you Tommy and thank you for attending. No need to apologise, I’m sure Archibald appreciates you being here, he often spoke fondly of you.” The vicar replied.
“Well, we went way back old Archie and I. Missing him already,” Tommy said, with genuine tenderness.
“I think we all do Tommy, but we’ll always carry him in our hearts wherever we go.”
The other man smiled, placing his hand in his pocket to retrieve his wallet.
“Oh, please don’t bother yourself Tommy, you’ve contributed enough to our church over the years and I know it’s you who paid for the funeral arrangements. So please, no more is needed my son,” the vicar pleaded.
“It is the least I could do for my old friend. Take this please Father, call it a gift from old Archie,” Tommy replied, taking a handful of notes from his wallet, before placing them into the vicar’s hand.
“Thank you, Tommy, God bless you.”
“God bless you too Father, now if you’d please forgive me, I have to drive back down to London.”
The two men exchanged hand-shakes, before Tommy placed his hat on top of his head, quickly taking it off again to nod at the ladies present.
He hurried across the road to the car, where the driver stood patiently waiting and holding the rear door open.
“That wasn’t…was it?” Patty said, watching him depart.
“It couldn’t have been,” Pam added.
“Couldn’t have been who?” The vicar asked.
“He looked like, it couldn’t be, but he looked like Tommy Handley.”
“That is because it is Mister Handley,” the vicar replied, “an old friend of Archie’s. I let Tommy know as soon as I received the sad news of Archie’s passing as I knew they were good friends and Tommy would want to know right away.”
They watched, as Liverpool’s own famous star of radio and screen climbed into the back of the car, giving them a wave as the car drove off towards Queens Drive.
“Once he found out there was no money set aside for what he deemed ‘a right decent send of’ and the fact the will has not been found, he made the arrangements for the carriage himself,” the vicar said, “he’s always been a good person, has Tommy.”
They stood watching the car disappear into the distance, before making their ways home.
“Wait until I tell Peggy,” Patty said, whilst they walked along the pavement, “she will never believe it!”
Chapter Fifteen
Eventually, after following Bob�
�s vague directions, David found himself standing outside of the Anchor pub in Waterloo.
From the inside, he heard laughter and singing, in addition to music emitting from a poorly played piano.
Hesitating a few moments, he pondered whether to enter.
I only know Bob in there and I didn’t even know old Archie that well.
Looking up, at the dark clouds filling the evening sky overhead, he sighed, opening the door to the pub and stepping inside.
The inside of the pub appeared packed out, cigarette smoke filling the air, whilst aromas of cheap aftershaves and perfumes pervaded his nostrils.
Excusing himself politely, traversing the gathered throng of people, he walked to the bar.
“David!” Bob’s voice bellowed above the noise of the chatter and impromptu singing, within the confines of the pub lounge.
Glancing around the room, he caught sight of Bob standing at the bar and waved his arm in response.
Making his way through the busy throng, he caught sight of a girl standing in the corner of the room, surrounded by a flock of children.
She chatted with them, patting and ruffling their hair, with an enigmatic smile upon her beautiful lips.
Momentarily to David, all the other voices in the bustling pub disappeared completely. Ushered away into an ethereal plane of nonexistence, he found himself entranced by the girl in the corner.
“Oi, Boyo!” Bob called, “get your backside over here, so I can introduce you to some of the local gentry.”
Shaking himself from his trance, he walked to the bar, finding it difficult to keep himself from staring at the girl.
“How do Bob,” he said, reaching the bar.
“What are you having?” Bob asked.
“Oh, only a small bitter for me please Bob.”
After ordering the drinks, Bob turned to the men stood near him.
“Gentleman,” he said hiccupping, having personally enjoyed a large proportion of the free bar, “I’d like to introduce you to my apprentice Dafyyd, or David as we call him, ‘cos that is proper English isn’t it my boy?”
The men stood near Bob at the bar, one by one shook David’s hand.
“Pleased to meet you lad,” Ron said.
Shaking his hand, Albert suggested they find a table to sit at.
Having watched Bob imbue several drinks during the last couple of hours, he saw clearly how unsteady on his feet his friend was becoming.
“Are you sitting down Ron?” Albert asked.
“No, he’s standing up. See? On his feet and everything,” Bob said, laughing.
“Oh, I’m fine stood here Albert cheers, just waiting for Pam to finish yakking with Jackie and Joyce then I’ll grab somewhere.”
Albert and David, helped Bob walk to one of the tables set to one side in the Pub lounge.
Making their away across the lounge, David looked to where the girl stood earlier, but she was gone.
Disappointed, he sat on the seat next to his friend, endeavouring to cope with his poor attempts at humour.
Finding Albert to be both amiable and interesting, he listened intently as he spoke fondly of his late friend, his stories becoming interspersed with Bob’s inebriated voice.
“He was a good un was Archie, one of the best,” Bob said.
“Daniel!” A voice called, from the opposite end of the room.
David heard her, even over the noise of the chatter and the piano playing, having improved immensely now Abraham Filländer had stepped in place of Arthur Fagan, partaken of far too much stout and currently snoozing on a seat in the back of the pub.
“Don’t be running around after your brothers, you may hurt yourself Love!” She called.
Glancing in the direction of where she was staring, he saw a slight, waiflike boy, chasing after a couple of larger boys, but prevented from achieving this quickly due to the cumbersome brace he sported around his right leg.
Turning and waving, giving her a broad grin, the boy came to a stop at one of the tables piled high with food.
Smiling, David looked in the direction of the girl, finding she was staring at him.
She looked uncertain, before returning her own smile, making her way across the crowded lounge to the bar.
The man seated at the piano began playing his own rendition of ‘When the lights go on again’, the voices in the lounge quieting to a hush as the beautifully played tune carried through the air.
“Since when did old Fagan learn ‘ow ter play the piano?” Bob slurred, staring at his near empty glass.
“That’s not Arthur,” Albert replied, “it’s Abraham Filländer.”
“Ahh,” Bob mumbled, “that’d explain it then.”
“He certainly can carry a tune old Abe,” Albert remarked.
“It seems like it,” David said, glancing at the glasses on their table, then to the bar where the girl stood.
Though normally of a shy nature, a feeling stirred inside of him and he not wish to miss this opportunity to get a chance to speak to her.
“Err, do you two want another drink?” He said, turning to his companions and indicating to the glasses on the table.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Albert answered, “thank you son.”
“’Ere, let me get ‘em in,” Bob said, struggling to his feet before falling back into his seat, “actually, you get ‘em in David lad.”
“Here, take this,” he said, fumbling in his breast pocket, attempting to retrieve his money.
“There’s a free bar tonight Bob,” Albert said, “we all chipped in remember?”
Bob stared into space for a moment before smiling.
“That’s right we did. In that case…”
“And we all agreed remember, spirits aren’t free,” Albert interrupted, Bob looking disappointed and deflated.
“Stout, it is then,” he muttered.
David walked through the throng in the lounge to where she stood at the bar, her back to him as the barmaid placed glasses onto the tray in front of her.
The land lord of the pub stood nearby and smiled at David, approaching the bar.
“What can I do yer for mate?” He asked.
“Three stouts please,” David replied, standing alongside Iris.
She turned at the sound of his soft melodic voice, and looked at the man stood alongside her.
He was smiling, as the Landlord asked where he was from, not possessing a Liverpudlian accent.
He certainly doesn’t.
She heard his melodious voice, but not the words he spoke, being too preoccupied with gazing at his face.
His features were neither strong nor striking, certainly he did not look like any movie star she saw on the silver screen, but his face held a somewhat boyish look, a soft look, a countenance she found pleasing to her eyes.
She was unaware she was staring so intently, until realising he now stared into her own eyes, with green eyes, speckled and sparkling with corn flower blue, catching the glint of the light behind the bar.
Quickly, she turned away, staring at the tray on the wooden counter.
“Sorry,” she uttered, “I didn’t mean to be rude and stare.”
He laughed gently, causing her to return her look to him, were she discovered him smiling.
“No reason to be sorry,” he said, “here, please let me help you with the tray.”
Before she had a chance to say she would be alright, he picked the tray in his hands and looked at her, awaiting an indication of where he should carry it.
“Oh, err, we’re sat over there,” she indicated to where her Mother sat with Pam, Jackie, Robert and Daniel.
Jack and Frank were currently running around the tables at the far end of the room, chased by Wally and Jimmy.
They passed through the throng until they reached the table.
Patty looked at the smiling young man stood alongside her daughter, brandishing the tray holding their drinks.
“Just here will be fine,” Iris said, indicating to a space on
the table.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Her Mother asked.
Iris felt embarrassed, taking up the offer of the man to carry her tray, but neglecting to ask his name.
Still, I’ve only just met him myself!
“Hello there, I’m David,” he said, placing the tray on the table, before offering Patty his outstretched hand.
“Pleased to meet you David,” Patty replied, “I’m Patty, Iris’s Mother and this here is Robert and Daniel, the eldest and youngest of my boys.”
Leaning forward, David shook Roberts hand before holding out his hand to Daniel, who grinned widely before shaking his outstretched hand.
“A pleasure to meet you all,” David said, smiling before turning to face Iris.
“Well, sorry to be rude,” he said, “but I’d best get back to the bar and grab the drinks for Bob and Albert, before they send a search party after me.”
“Like in a cowboy movie!” Daniel exclaimed.
David smiled at the sweet boy sat next to his Mother.
He already noticed in his peripheral vision the child wore a brace, but was not so inconsiderate to stare at it.
“Yes, like a cowboy movie,” he replied, smiling broadly, “I’d best go hoezzy on down and grab those there supplies before them injuns come a chasing me down the trail, a whooping and a hollering!”
Daniel laughed and Robert smiled at the young man with the strange accent.
Returning the smiles, David returned through the crowd to the bar where the glasses awaited.
Retrieving them he returned to Bob and Albert.
“Alright Davey Boy!” Bob said loudly, “where you been? Thought you’d ended up getting lost or summat?”
“Just running an errand Bob, that’s all.”
“Well, you’re back now and that’s what matters,” Albert said smiling, taking a glass from the table.
“Probably been counting a flock of sheep,” Bob slurred, smiling.
“Here we go again,” David sighed, picking up his glass and bringing it up to his lips.
“I saw another Welshman counting his sheep once,” Bob began.
Albert looked at David, smiling back with a look indicating he was accustomed to Bob’s attempts at humour.
“Is that right?” Albert asked.
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