Comet

by Andie J Fessey

  “Aye, he was lookin’ at ‘em all and he was counting,” Bob slurred, leaning forwards to take his own drink, “he was going and he went, one, two, three, four, five, six, hello darling, eight, nine.”

  David nearly spat out his drink, this was certainly one he never heard before from Bob.

  “You’ve to admit, that was funny enough,” Albert remarked, smiling.

  “It was indeed,” David replied, returning a smile of his own.

  “I thought it was,” Bob said, accompanied with a belch.

  “You would,” David said.

  “Aye, it was funny like,” Bob said.

  “Scousers, always looking for similes,” David remarked.

  “What do you mean like?”

  “Exactly,” David said with a wry grin, bringing the glass to his mouth.

  “Did you know him well?” David asked, turning his gaze to Albert.

  “Aye, I did son,” Albert replied, “I guess we were as close as can be, without being either related or married.”

  Bob stared over the rim of his glass, smiling sadly and nodding at the man sat across from him.

  “We went back years son, almost as far back as I can remember,” Albert continued, staring into space, “Archie had been there at the end of the first great war and we met each other for the first time when he returned. I was waiting for my older brother at the train station and Archie stepped off with him. We sort of hit if off from the start”

  David smiled at him, but his gaze returned to where Iris sat talking to her Mother, casting a glance in his direction.

  He sat with his companions for over an hour, listening to their tales of Archie, though his eyes constantly drew to Iris, regardless of how hard he tried to not stare.

  The pianist now played a haunting melody, as the children played near the tables of food.

  Iris refilled her Mothers plate, as David took the opportunity to walk across to her.

  “We meet again,” he said smiling.

  “Oh,” Iris exclaimed, “I didn’t notice you there. Please help yourself to some food.”

  “Thanks, I will,” he replied.

  Taking an empty plate from the table, Iris handed it to him, a tingle running through her body as their fingers touched.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” Iris replied.

  They helped themselves to the differing variety of fare along the length of the table, until reaching the end of the row.

  “Well, that’s more than enough for my Mother,” Iris said, smiling “thank you for escorting me along the table.”

  David giggled.

  Before he could engage his brain, his mouth opened.

  “Err, would it be alright if I asked you if I can escort you again?” He asked her, not believing he found the courage to do so.

  “Along the food table?” Iris asked, confused.

  “Err, no, I mean,” David stuttered, “would I, I mean could I err, I mean.”

  Iris, the plate of food held in her hands, stood directly in front of him.

  His head held low, he shook it before finding the courage within himself again to gaze into her eyes and find the words.

  “I mean, could I escort you to the pictures or something?”

  Iris stared into the eyes of the man with the melodic voice, taken aback by both his request and her reaction, her voice finding the answer to his question immediately.

  “Yes David,” she replied, “yes, that’d be lovely.”

  Whilst they stood silently, staring into each other’s eyes and watching the smiles form on each other’s faces, they failed to notice the crouched figure of Jimmy underneath the table, a sandwich held to his mouth as his mind processed what he accidently eavesdropped upon.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The corridor inside the council chambers stood vast, with walls lined with veneers of oak. It was fortunate to have escaped the bombardment of shells cascaded onto the city during the blitz.

  The large building itself stood for nearly a century. It’s outer brickwork, originally a grey so pale as to be white, now stood darkened, sullied by years of being subject to the smoke and grime of a thriving, industrious city.

  The council already put in place a plan to restore it to its former glory, but the withholding of key government funding meant the restoration was placed on hold, until the country pulled through its current austerity.

  It was along one of its long, wide hallways where the short, balding man in a sheepskin jacket and flat cap now strode, reaching the end of the corridor and pushing open the door leading to the annex inside.

  At the opposite end of the room sat a lady in her fifties.

  She stood up, as soon as the door was pushed open.

  “Mr O’Leary, how nice to see you again, do you have an appointment?”

  “I don’t need an appointment sweetheart, is he in?” The diminutive man replied, brushing the collars of his sheepskin jacket, the antithesis of Archie in his brusque mannerisms.

  “I’m sorry Mr O’Leary, but you really can’t see the councillor without an appointment,” the woman persisted.

  “Again sweetheart,” he said, still brushing at his jacket, “I don’t need an appointment.”

  “I’m sorry Mr O’Leary, but he’s in a meeting at the moment with a government gentleman.”

  Pausing a moment, O’Leary pondered whether to walk straight through into the councillor’s office when the doors to the office opened, the councillor popping his head through the gap.

  “Oh, hello Corey,” he said, “I thought I could hear you, you’re quite a bit early for our scheduled meeting.”

  “I’m a busy man, a lot like yourself and anyway as they say, time is money Roger.”

  Roger staredat O’Leary, through eyes set amid porcine features.

  “I meant Councillor,” O’Leary said, smirking.

  The other man sighed, before pushing the door open, standing in the doorway as O’Leary passed by him into his office.

  “And Mrs Peel please, no more interruptions if you’d be so kind.”

  Walking into his office, the councillor closed the large door behind him.

  Inside, the expansive room was dominated by a large table, occupied by six other men.

  “Gentlemen, I believe you are acquainted with Mr O’Leary?” He said, walking to the large chair located at the far end of the table, whilst O’Leary walked to a vacant chair.

  All except one of the men nodded their heads, staring at O’Leary.

  “I do not believe we have been introduced,” the man directly opposite O’Leary said, turning to cast a glance at the councillor.

  “Oh, I do apologise. Mr Anderson, this is Corey O’Leary, he owns the Metal Merchant business you mentioned, Corey this gentleman is Tobias Anderson, from the Civil Service.”

  Standing, O’Leary leant across the table with his hand outstretched, the other man doing likewise.

  “Corey O’Leary,” he said, shaking the other man’s hand, “the councillor must be getting absent minded in regard to introductions.”

  Tobias gave a light, polite laugh.

  “Tobias Anderson, a pleasure to make your acquaintance Mister O’Leary and I do believe you and I have some business to discuss whilst I am up here?”

  “That’s right,” O’Leary replied, “we have some business over the old place at the Bootle end of the docks.”

  “That’s correct Mister O’Leary, I am led to believe also, there has been an unfortunate tragedy there of late.”

  “You could say that,” O’Leary replied with a grin, removing his large sheepskin jacket and placing it over the back of his seat.

  Tobias noticed he wore garish garters on the sleeves of his shirt.

  He did not possess any arm garters himself as all of his shirts were tailored but, looking at the diminutive stature of the man, he surmised it was less to do with whether the man’s shirts were tailored and more to do with the fact his arms were so short.

 
Reclining in his seat, O’Leary listened as the meeting progressed for a couple of hours.

  Though Roger was not keen on his attendance, his presence was tolerable. O’Leary after all, ensured Roger was able to afford the new kitchen in his house in Calderstones Park.

  Casting a quick glance around the table, Roger was certain, with the exception of Tobias, all the men in attendance at some point received a ‘thank you’ from O’Leary for services rendered.

  Eventually, the main business orders of the day dealt with, the majority of the men bade their farewells before exiting the room, leaving the councillor, O’Leary, Tobias and Gerald Doyle, holding the position of being in charge of environmental issues for Liverpool Corporation.

  Upon escorting the last of the men to the door, Roger ordered fresh beverages from his beleaguered receptionist, before returning to his seat.

  “Now, let’s get to your business Corey,” Roger said, then realising Tobias was in the room continued, “I thank you for your patience in remaining throughout our earlier meeting.”

  “My pleasure Roger,” O’Leary said, a knowing smirk upon his face, “it’s nice to see where the tax payers hard earned money goes after all.”

  “Quite,” Roger replied, shuffling the papers lain in front of him.

  “I do believe we have a couple of items to discuss Mr O’Leary?” Tobias asked, reclining into his seat.

  “That we do,” O’Leary replied, “obviously the work my company was scheduled to do at the old warehouses up at Seaforth, has been delayed by the ‘unfortunate incident’ as you mentioned earlier, whilst the army blokes make sure there are no other nasty surprises left behind by the Germans for us.”

  “I believe our ordnance chaps will be busy for many years to come unfortunately,” Tobias concurred, “heaven knows how many UXBs are still out there around the country.”

  “We could always send the Rag and Bone brigade out there to find them all, they seem good at it.” O’Leary said, accompanied with a chuckle.

  “That is in extremely poor taste Corey,” Roger remarked, concerned O’Leary’s coarseness and total disregard for decorum, would reflect poorly on Tobias’s view of the people of Liverpool.

  “My apologies Roger,” O’Leary said, grinning.

  “I am led to believe you wish to move your business closer to the river onto the land owned by the harbour company.” Tobias said, more a statement than a question.

  “That’s right,” O’Leary replied, “my premises are on the doorstep of the docks as it is, but with the amount of business coming our way, it’d be a damn sight easier if I was closer to the shipping.”

  “Seems ridiculous, I can only keep a certain amount of metal in my yard when there’s a lot of dockside land going to waste.”

  “So, as my report reads, business is looking good?” Tobias asked.

  “Oh, it’s better than good,” O’Leary replied, “we’re on the verge of signing off on a shed load of government and commercial deals, which will ensure I can move completely away from the domestic scrap side of things.”

  “That is indeed excellent news Mr O’Leary,” Tobias said, “it is so refreshing to hear optimistic news, in this day and age.”

  “Cheers Mr Anderson and hopefully you lot down there, may sling some more work our way once we’ve cleared this first lot for you.”

  Roger cringed inside at O’Leary’s forth-righteousness.

  Doesn’t the imbecile have any sense of manners?

  “I am sure we can arrange something Mr O’Leary once the initial contract is concluded in a satisfactory manner,” Tobias said, “but as you are aware, we only own the buildings, the harbour board owns the land.”

  “Oh, that’s fine and it will be, I can promise you. And once the harbour company has pulled their fingers out in regard to letting me open shop on the dockside, then we can handle as much work as you can throw at us.”

  “I have arranged a meeting with one of the senior members of the board, as you well know Corey,” Roger retorted, “as soon as they inform me of their decision in the matter, then you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Well, the sooner the better,” O’Leary said, “so whilst that bit of red tape is going on…”

  A knock at the door interrupted him.

  Roger, arising from his seat, walked across to it. Opening it he discovered his secretary, stood with a large tray in her hands, containing their beverages.

  Taking the tray from her hand without thanks, he returned to the table, placing it upon it.

  “Here we are gentlemen,” he said, “some refreshing beverages.”

  “Haven’t you anything stronger?” O’Leary asked, smirking.

  “A bit early in the afternoon for that, don’t you think Corey?” Roger asked.

  “My, is that the correct time?” Tobias exclaimed, interrupting him, staring at the large clock on the wall.

  He retrieved a pocket watch from his jacket, opening it to affirm the time on the clock was correct.

  “It certainly is Mr Anderson, my apologies the meeting went on far longer than anticipated.”

  “No apologies necessary I can assure you,” Tobias replied, “but I really must be off. I have a meeting with the managerial staff of Littlewoods in little under an hour and I do not wish to be late.”

  “Having a bit of a flutter, are you?” O’Leary asked with a chuckle.

  “Nothing of the sort Mr O’Leary,” Tobias replied, giving a polite smile, “I have meetings with several businesses over the coming week or so. I am seeing the sterling work the people of your great city are doing, even whilst we are all suffering from the hardships of this time. I hope to have a lot of positive reports to write up before I get back to Whitehall.”

  Standing, he shook hands with the other men.

  “I have an engagement arranged with you already in a couple of days hence Mr O’Leary, it will be my pleasure to spend a lot more time with you then. Now, if I may bid you gentlemen goodbye, I shall excuse myself and make my way to Littlewoods.”

  He left the room and the three remaining men seated themselves, placing their cups in front of them.

  “Next order of the day,” O’Leary said, “is my request for that animal.”

  Sighing, Roger took a sip from his cup before speaking.

  “In situations such as these Corey, we’d contact the abattoir and in any case, from what I’ve been able to ascertain, the will has yet to be found to ascertain what the deceased wishes were in regard to all of his property, including the horse.”

  “I do realise that Roger,” O’Leary replied, “but I also realise I’ve made you a generous offer for the thing and it’d be a poor reflection on the behalf of the Chambers, if it became known you turned your nose up at decent money for something which is going to be destroyed anyways.”

  “Again Corey, nobody knows what the deceased wishes were,” Roger replied, staring at him through narrow eyes, at what sounded to him like a veiled threat.

  “In any case, I wouldn’t have thought you’d have much interest in employing the services of an animal such as a horse?”

  “I have no interest whatsoever in putting that thing into employment!” O’Leary replied, laughing.

  “So, what’s the big deal with the horse?” Gerald asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean Corey, why are you so interested in him if you’re not going to put him to work.”

  “Let’s just say it’s personal,” O’Leary replied, “in my mind, there’s no place in this world for bloody horses, apart from putting bets on them.”

  “Oh, come on Corey, you’re joking aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m not! What bloody use are they in this day and age? I don’t mind placing a bet on them, but tell me what good are they otherwise eh? Good for nothing that’s what.”

  “Oh, come Corey don’t be so abstruse,” Roger said, “you can’t just dismiss all horses, because of your dislike of one for crying out loud.”

  �
�Who said I disliked the horse?” O’Leary asked, “I maybe buying him out of the goodness of my heart. Will or no will, wouldn’t you say it’s not exactly humane for the beast to be stuck there in the backyard of that house, until the will, if it bloody exists at all, appears.”

  “By all accounts, the deceased told several different people on several different occasions of its existence.”

  “That may be so, but again, it’d not do you any favours if it came to light, you turned down a reasonable offer to protect the horse’s welfare.”

  The room lay in silence for several moments before O’Leary added.

  “After all, who’s to say somebody doesn’t just break in and set the thing free to roam the streets and cause an accident? Dangerous beasts by all accounts as it were.”

  Roger sat back, mulling O’Leary’s words and suggestion over in his mind.

  It’s only a horse after all and I’m blessed if I can see why Corey is making a fuss over it.

  “Well,” he said, “I don’t see any cause not to go through with it.”

  “So,” O’Leary said, “I gain possession of the thing?”

  “Do you mean the horse?”

  “Horse, thing, whatever you want to call it. Do I get to own the bloody thing or not?”

  Gerald was reading notes set out in front of him.

  It would be nearly another twenty years, before the Animal Welfare Rights Act would be passed in England, so the guidance he possessed was scant.

  “In light of the absence of a will as the councillor says,,” he said, “I see no reason why not, if it is in the animal’s welfare, but to echo the councillor’s concerns, what are your intentions with the beast?”

  “Does it matter what my intentions are? If the thing belongs to me, then I can do with it what I want to can’t I?”

  “Well, I suppose so Corey,” Roger said, “but I don’t wish to have any poor publicity coming the way of the Chambers. Do you understand that caveat completely?”

  Slowly nodding his head, O’Leary stared directly into the eyes of the councillor.

  “Fine, you may have him then.”

  O’Leary leant across the table and shook Roger’s hand.

  “Cheers Roger, appreciate it.”

  “Are you going to be using him for anything in particular?” Gerald asked, raising his cup to his lips.