Comet

by Andie J Fessey

  A door loudly banged shut from further up the street and they saw the figure of Maureen walking towards them.

  “You alright Wal?” Robert asked quietly, rolling another marble at the ones amassing near the wall underneath the front window.

  “Yeah,” he replied, equally quietly.

  “I mean, yer dah hasn’t you know, again has he?” Robert asked concerned.

  Casting a glance back towards his house, Wally returned his stare to the game in front of him, shuffling to become more comfortable.

  “No, for once. He stayed out again last night and only came in this morning to get his work stuff,” he replied, “he’s a few day’s work this week with the man who runs the metal yard.”

  “At least it keeps him away from the house for a while, though doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah, until he comes back though,” Wally replied sadly.

  Robert’s heart went out to his friend, but apart from being there for him and talking about it, he felt lost, not knowing what else to do.

  It appeared nobody could do anything to stop Wally’s Father from giving either him, or his Mother, a belt whenever he felt like it.

  Robert did not understand why a man would want to hit a woman, or why a parent would want to hit a child, especially their own.

  He knew he nearly received a clip around his ear when he gave his Mother a bit of backchat the previous year, but he felt really upset at the time because his own Father was no longer there.

  But what Wally’s Father did, to both him and his Mother, made him sick to the pit of his stomach.

  “Here comes legs eleven,” they heard their neighbour Joyce say, walking passed them towards Maureen, “never goes out without her face on.”

  They knew Joyce meant Maureen, hearing the older lads in the street mentioning, how long and nice her ‘pins’ were on several occasions.

  After speaking with Joyce for a few minutes, Maureen walked to the children.

  “Alright all,” she said, approaching them, her perfume reaching them yards before she did.

  “Hiya Mo,” Robert replied, the others exchanging their own greetings, the boys amounting to little more than grunts.

  Barbara and Maisie were slightly livelier in their greeting, but to Maureen there appeared a dark cloud over the children.

  “Is your Iris in, Rob?” She asked.

  “Yeah, go straight in, I think she’s in the kitchen,” he answered, waving his hand to their door.

  Maisie and Barbara edged to each side of the step to give her access.

  She stared at them, noticing their glum expressions.

  “Aww, c’mon,” she said kneeling, her pin-dress clinging to her thighs, “tell Mo. What’s up with you lot, you have faces which’d make paint flake?”

  They looked up at her, sadly.

  “It’s,” Maisie replied, staring at the floor in front of her.

  “It’s what love?” Maureen asked.

  “It’s…we’re sad about Archie,” she answered, continuing to stare downwards.

  Maureen stared at them in silence for a moment.

  She knew Archie was well liked by most, but her heart went out to these children, seeing how affected they were by the old man’s passing.

  “Hey, it’s alright to be sad you know,” she said softly, “he was a lovely old bloke.”

  The front door, until then only slightly ajar, opened fully as Iris appeared.

  “Thought I could hear your voice Mo,” she said, before noticing Jimmy sat on the kerb.

  “I think I need a quiet word with you Jimmy Leatherbarrow,” she said.

  Jimmy turned his head slightly to her, sadness spread upon his young face.

  “Not now Iris, they’re upset over old Archie” Maureen said, with a softness and kindness rare to escape her lips.

  Continuing to stare at Jimmy, Iris’s heart broke for the children, knowing how much Archie and Comet meant to them.

  Smiling fondly at Jimmy she turned, leading her friend into the house, the children continuing to sit around the outside of the front of the house, watching the life of Harrowby Street slowly passing by.

  “Yer mam at work then?” Maureen asked, as they entered the kitchen.

  “Yeah, she’s down at the sausage factory today.”

  “I don’t know how she manages to do it, I have enough problems doing one job me. She’s a trooper yer mam is.”

  “She is that Mo,” Iris replied, once again thinking of how hard her Mother strived, to ensure their life was as good as possible throughout these times.

  “So, are you going to go courting with that Welsh lad, or what?” Maureen asked her bluntly.

  “How did the conversation turn so quickly, from my Mother to David?” Iris asked, making her way to the kettle.

  “Oh, come on Iris! Nowt exciting ever happens around here these days and now my best friend is umming and arrring over whether to go courting.”

  “It’s not courting Mo, it’s only a trip to the pictures,” Iris said, before realising her mistake.

  “So, you’re going out with him!” Maureen exclaimed.

  “Shush Mo please, I don’t want the whole street to know!” Iris replied admonishingly.

  Laughing gently, Maureen jiggled on her seat.

  “Sorry Iris love, it’s just so exciting! It’ll be the first time you’ve stepped out with a feller since, well the first time!”

  Finishing the task of making their drinks, Iris sat at the table next to her friend, inwardly dreading the topic of conversation she knew would continue, until Maureen’s curiosity was sated.

  “So, tell me all about him,” Maureen asked, “where’s he from again? What’s he do again? How old is he? Does he have a friend?”

  Iris answered the barrage of questions patiently, sighing gently.

  “Enough now Mo please,” Iris pleaded, “can we change the subject?”

  “Alright Iris. Well, there’s something I overheard that nasty sod Henry saying to Mi...” Maureen said, before being interrupted by a noise from behind her.

  “I’m just getting a mug of water if it’s okay Iris?” Robert said, entering the kitchen.

  “Of course, it is Rob,” she replied, smiling.

  Robert walked to the sink, retrieving one of the large mugs from the cupboard nearby.

  “What were you saying?” Iris asked Maureen.

  “Oh, it’s just I overhead Henry McCluskie saying something last night to Mick Metcalfe as they staggered past ours,” Maureen replied, “something about Corey O’Leary now having a big horse or something at his yard. Probably just the ale talking.”

  The mug of water, never reached Roberts lips.

  Chapter Twenty

  Making their way quickly through the dark streets, the evening sky above them loomed dark with clouds, ominously threatening to turn into a downpour.

  “Have you got the rug thing?” Robert asked, leading the way.

  “What do think we’re carrying?” Wally replied, struggling to hold the large blanket, the other end held aloft by Frank.

  “Did anybody remember to bring the meat?”

  “Oh, do you mean this?” Jimmy asked, raising a large paper bag above his head, “I thought this was my packed lunch or something.”

  “Har dee har,” Robert replied, “at least it’s not far away now. I’ve our Dad’s jemmy bar and bolt cutters.”

  “A jemmy bar and bolt cutters? Do we have some sort of a plan then?” Jimmy enquired.

  “Of course, we’ve a plan,” Frank retorted, before continuing, quieter, “if it works or not is another thing.”

  “Nice that we have a plan, but do we have our stories covered?”

  “I’m staying over at yours,” Wally replied.

  “Same here,” Jimmy added.

  “And we’re staying at yours,” Robert added.

  “You don’t think Danny will say anything by accident do yer?” Jimmy asked.

  “No, he’s acting as our rear guard against the enemy,”
Robert replied.

  “What enemy?”

  “Your mams, if they find out!” Robert replied with a laugh.

  “Very funny,” Jimmy replied.

  They turned the corner onto Derby Road, once or twice seeing the headlights of wagons, managing to hide behind gates and walls to avoid being seen.

  “What if there’s a cocky watchman there?” Wally asked.

  “Well, we’ll think of something when we get there.”

  “A diversion?” Jimmy asked.

  “A diversion would be good, but we’ll need to plan one.” Robert replied smiling, walking slightly ahead of them.

  “I think I have one,” Jimmy replied.

  “What is it?”

  “Let’s wait until we get there, then we’ll see if we have to put Operation Ting into action.”

  “Operation Ting?”

  “Yeah, all good plans have an Operation name.”

  “If it’s one of your plans, then it shouldn’t have a name then,” Frank said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because they’re never any good, that’s why!”

  “Get lost Frank.” Jimmy replied, unable to stop himself from laughing quietly.

  “This is it, this is the road,” Robert said, “We’re almost there.”

  “What’s that noise? Is it dogs?”

  “More important, is that a horse’s whinny? Hurry lads!”

  Hurrying along the road, they sprinted to the large building taking up the whole of the length of one of the streets running parallel between Derby Road and the Dock Road.

  “There’s the gates,” Frank said, pointing at the front of the building, facing onto Archer Street.

  “Put the blanket down here Jimmy, then go see if there’s a watchman at the front,” Robert said, “Wally, Jack stay here and watch the stuff, Frank come with me and we’ll see where they have Comet.”

  “He’s sure to be close by, I can hear his whinnies.”

  “And those bloody barks,” Robert replied, a grim expression set upon his face.

  An alleyway wide enough to drive a van along, stood to their left, running nearly the whole depth of the building.

  “Let’s try down here our Robert, it must be where they take deliveries or something.”

  “Make sure you’re careful Jimmy, don’t get seen.”

  “Oh, I won’t,” he replied, walking to the entrance gates, stealthily placing his back against the wall.

  “Don’t take the Mickey Jimmy,” Robert whispered.

  “I’m not Rob, this is how they do it in the movies.”

  Sighing, Robert walked slowly along the alleyway alongside his younger brother.

  Approaching a set of gates near the end of the alleyway, the noise of the whinnies and incessant, fearsome barking increased.

  Nearing closer to the gates, they saw a couple of vans parked to their left.

  “This must be where they park the vans up for the night Rob,” Frank whispered.

  “Looks that way Frank, but why is Comet whinnying like that?”

  Reaching the gates and peering through the gaps in-between the metal bars, they discovered the answer to his question.

  “Go and grab the others Frank!”

  Whilst Frank ran the length of the alley, to where Wally and Jack sat purposely from view of the main road, Robert stared back helplessly through the bars of the gates.

  To his right, a few yards away, Comet stood tied by a thick rope to a large metallic hook embedded into the wall, threatening to come away as the huge horse attempted to rear up.

  The reasons why, both stood only a couple of yards away from him.

  Two large ferocious dogs, sporting thickly matted dark fur, strained at their chains, barking at the animal in front of them.

  Their teeth bore through snarling, snapping mouths, white froths of spittle spraying forth whilst they barked loudly.

  “Comet”, Robert whispered, his voice unheard over the din of the barking.

  “Comet!” he repeated louder, but the horse was more concerned with the dogs attempting to reach him, than to acknowledge him with any gesture.

  Raising his front legs, he managed to rear, the rope straining to near breaking point against his herculean strength.

  Pushing his arm through one of the gaps, Robert franticly waved it.

  “Comet!”

  The dogs, distracted upon seeing his waving arm, barked savagely in his direction.

  “Shut up you nasty mutts!” He hissed at them.

  At the front of the building, within the confines of the front yard, stood Ray Williams, rolling a piece of paper around flakes of tobacco held in his hand.

  “Bloody dogs should just be let off their leads and finish the job,” he muttered.

  He hawked a large piece of phlegm through the gaps between the bars of the front gate. The dark, thick liquid landed on the pavement outside as he coughed, placing the hand rolled cigarette in between his lips, leaning forward to light it with a match.

  Dirty old bugger.

  The phlegm landed near Jimmy’s shoes, as he stood on the pavement, his back against the wall.

  He smelt the acrid aroma of the roll up cigarette from his hiding place, along with the sounds of the old man’s coughing.

  The noise of coughing moved away, so he took the chance to steal a glance around the wall.

  He watched the figure of the old man walking to the side of the building located within the yard, housing the offices of O’Leary’s business.

  Ray stopped at the brickwork, fumbling with the front of his trousers.

  He’s going to pee, the dirty old sod.

  Whilst Ray relieved himself against the side of the building, Jimmy took the opportunity to get a better view of the depot.

  An ugly, battleship grey two storey edifice, a couple of well-worn steps leading up to the main entrance comprised of two large wooden doors.

  Though there appeared no windows on the ground floor, he saw the floor above held a large row of windows, spread across its length.

  “Jimmy,” hissed a voice behind him.

  Turning around, he spied the figure of Wally beckoning him over. Stealing another glance at the building, he made his way to his friend.

  “What is it?”

  “Quickly, Rob wants us!”

  Making their way to where the others waited near the gates, they looked through the openings to be met by the sight of the two dogs, now confused as to who to be barking at, them or Comet.

  “That O’Leary’s a nasty bastard,” Robert said.

  Normally, the other children would have been surprised by Robert’s profanity, but staring at the scene before them, they nodded in agreement.

  “What are we going to do, our Rob?” Frank asked.

  “I have a plan,” Jimmy said, taking in the scene before him.

  They turned to look at him moving towards them, whispering his plan upon reaching their circle.

  A few minutes passed, whilst he relayed the details of what he proposed to embark upon.

  “As good a plan as any,” Robert said, “let’s go for it.”

  Robert busied himself with retrieving his late Father’s tools from the bag he carried, whilst Frank and Wally retrieved the pieces of off cut meat from a large bag they managed to procure from Barbara’s Fathers butchers shop.

  Walking to the front of the building, Jimmy walked stealthily, though knowing Ray would likely not be able to hear his movements over the noise of both the nearby dockyards and the persistent barking of the dogs.

  Reaching the entrance gates, he slowly turned his head to peer through their gaps.

  Inside, he located the figure of the old man sat on a ramshackle chair next to a wooden hut, near the entrance.

  In his outstretched arms, he held a copy of the evening’s paper, concentrating on the sports pages.

  Crouching, Jimmy walked passed the entrance, careful not to make any noise to alert the old man to his presence.

  Succeeding
in passing unseen, he walked further along the pavement in the direction of the Dock Road.

  Constantly looking for a gap or lower section of the wall, he came across a recess, containing a single wooden gate.

  Peering through the gaps, he discovered from this position, he now possessed a clear view of the windows.

  Reaching carefully into his back pocket, he produced a sophistically hand-made catapult.

  It took him months to construct his pride and joy into its present form.

  Instead of the wooden pieces, his friends and the other children in the neighbourhood made theirs from, he spent long hours bending and moulding his from metal.

  Two long prongs connected by a strap, now rested over the top of his forearm.

  Large rubber bands he acquired from the tannery in Litherland, were attached to the metal ‘Y’-shaped front he held in his hand.

  These in turn, sat attached to a thick piece of leather he procured from the same tannery’s rubbish bins.

  Rummaging in his front pocket, he produced a handful of large marbles, before kneeling on the floor, placing one of them into the piece of leather held within his fingers.

  Unnecessarily, he licked the thumb of his left hand, raising it to the air in front of him.

  Taking close aim, he held his breath, as he learnt from the movies all the best snipers did, before taking their shots.

  He let go of the catapult, watching as the marble ricocheted harmlessly from the wall of the ground floor, close to the window he was aiming for.

  Bugger.

  Picking up another marble from the floor in front of him, he placed it into the piece of leather and took aim again, this time raising his arm higher and his aim surer.

  Letting go of the piece of leather, he watched the marble soar through the air, smiling in satisfaction as it penetrated the glass of one of the windows, erupting in a loud crashing sound.

  Ting.

  Dropping the newspaper into his lap, Ray did not manage to make it to his feet, before the sound of another window being smashed, echoed from further along the building.

  “What the bloody hell?”

  Another smash of a window brought him quickly up, the paper falling to the ground next to him, before rushing to the location of the breaking windows.