Comet

by Andie J Fessey

  “Oi!” He shouted, stopping in his tracks, as another window shattered before him.

  Back at the rear gates, Robert raised the bolt cutters to the chain wrapped around the two gates, attached by a huge padlock.

  “Help me somebody,” he said, “this thing is harder than it looks.”

  Wally approached him and they both pushed, until they heard the satisfying clunk of the pieces of metal breaking away.

  The chain unravelled.

  “We done it!” Wally shouted.

  “Shush!” Robert instructed.

  “Frank, do you have the meat?”

  Walking to them, Frank withdrew a handful of various parts of meat and entrails, from the bag he carried.

  “Yeah and they stink.”

  “Don’t worry, you can have a wash later, let’s go.”

  Unravelling the rest of the chain, they carefully placed it upon the ground.

  Opening the gates, they were grateful to find they were well oiled, not squealing.

  However, the noise of the dogs barking increased, straining at their leashes to reach the intruders trespassing into their home.

  Though scared witless, Frank slowly approached the dogs.

  “Hello boys,” he said, greeted with fantastic barks as the pair of huge dogs fought between themselves to reach them, turning in circles and barking indiscriminately at both the boys and Comet.

  Frank tossed a piece of meat in their direction.

  They barked at him, before the scent of the meat reached their nostrils and they made their way to the offering, lay on the ground in front of them.

  They ravished the meat, staring at the boys and growling.

  “Quickly, let’s get Comet.” Robert instructed.

  The others followed him with the same alacrity, rushing to Comet, keeping as close to the wall as possible, trying to keep a safe distance between them and the dogs.

  Frank threw more chunks of the meat in their direction, watching them fight each other to get at the various bloody parts, landing in front of them.

  “Quickly, let’s get him out of here.”

  “Is he okay?” Wally asked.

  “In what way?”

  “I mean, does he bite or anything?”

  “No idea, but we have to get him out of here, that’s all I know, okay?”

  “Just saying, I don’t fancy getting my hand bitten off, or my head kicked in by him.”

  “He’ll be okay,” Robert said nearing to Comet, his hand held out in front of him.

  Turning his gaze from the dogs to the humans approaching him, Comet sensed nervousness, anxiety and fear, but no sense of threat from them.

  He stared closely at the hand of the nearest human, nearing his neck.

  Flinching, at the dogs, preoccupied devouring the scraps of meat in front of them.

  Robert stared up at him, following his gaze to the savage looking beasts.

  “It’s okay Comet, we’re here now,” he said, raising his hand, to touch the huge horse’s neck.

  Comet turned in the direction of his voice.

  “Have a look around and see if you can find anything of his, we can take,” he instructed the others.

  Searching around the yard, the others ensured they kept a fair distance away from the reach of the dogs, regardless of whether they were busy eating the meat or not.

  “It’s okay,” Robert said, continuing to stroke Comet, “I think I can see some of his things in that pile, on the other side of him.”

  The others returned to where he stood, Wally shaking his head.

  “If we go around the front of him, then those things will be able to reach us.”

  They stared at Comet, now slightly calmer, understanding they were there to help him, though his own stare returned to the two savage large dogs.

  “Then, we’ll have to go under him then.” Robert said firmly, staring at the large gap underneath Comet.

  “If we’re going to do it, then it must be now,” Frank interrupted, “’cos we’re running out of meat.”

  Robert stole a swift glance at the nearly empty bag his brother carried, now in the process of pulling out one of the last remaining handfuls of offal and throwing it at the ravenous beasts with the voracious appetites.

  Robert thought quickly, knowing time was shorter and more precious, if they were to free Comet from the clutches of O’Leary.

  His thoughts, quickly returned to Jimmy.

  “Jack, see if you can find Jimmy and tell him to get around here. Don’t let anybody see you. Frank, split the meat into smaller pieces, Wally grab the collar thing on Comets head.”

  “You what?” Wally asked, Jack hurrying passed him, through the open gates.

  “Wal, you’ll have to hold onto him, while I get under him to grab his things.”

  “But, he may bite!”

  “You’ve a choice then, but make it quick Wal, hold his head, or get under him and try and carry his stuff back. But make your choice now!”

  The sense of urgency in his friend’s voice, caused him to stare around quickly.

  He glanced at the barking dogs, as Frank tore another slice of offal, hurling it in their direction.

  Kneeling, he looked at Comets tack, lay on the other side of the magnificent but startled animal.

  “His things look too heavy for me to lift Rob, I’ll, I’ll hold his head,” he said nervously.

  He slowly approached Comet, startled to find the horse appeared to stand much taller than he normally appeared, whenever he and Archie visited their street.

  Archie.

  The image appearing in his mind of Archie and Comet arriving in Harrowby Street, with nothing more than kind words, waves of the hand and good memories stirred him into action.

  “I’ve got him,” he said, confidentially holding onto the bridle, with a sureness and competency he did not realise he possessed.

  Glancing at him Robert smiled, before working his way under Comet, to retrieve the tack lain mere yards away.

  Flipping hell, it’s heavy!

  His years of training paid dividends, managing to drag the tack through Comets legs, without knocking into them or startling him.

  “Here,” he said between gasps, realising Jimmy was now standing amidst them, Frank panting at his side, “you lot grab these, while I grab Comet.”

  “You what?” Jimmy asked.

  “Those things are really heavy. I’d rather a couple of you take them and carry them while I lead Comet, than the other way around.”

  The other boys stared up at the massive horse.

  “But, the choice is yours,” Robert continued.

  Quickly, making their way to the tack lay on the ground scattered before them and with a great deal of struggle, the other boys managed to carry it in a certain fashion.

  “We’d better make tracks before the watchman gets here,” Jimmy said.

  Robert stared at the rope holding Comet securely to the wall.

  He took a huge breath, leaning forward to grab it.

  Here goes nothing.

  The others ensured they were stood at a safe distance, whilst he undid the rope, half expecting Comet to panic and rear.

  Feeling apprehensive, Robert realised the only thing securing Comet, was the rope he held.

  “Rob, hurry mate,” Wally said, “the watchman will be here in a second.”

  Robert stared at him for a moment, a bemused expression upon his face.

  Doesn’t he realise, what’s at the other end of this rope?

  He looked up at Comets face towering high above him, eyes affixed at the sight of the two dogs, who nearly finished devouring the meat.

  Please don’t panic and kill us!

  He tugged gently at the rope, but Comet continued to stare at the other animals.

  He turned to look at the others, now stood at the gate.

  “Pull it harder,” Jimmy half-whispered.

  He pulled on the rope harder and Comet slowly tuned his gaze from the dogs, to the figu
re holding the rope beneath him.

  He’s going to kill me.

  “C’mon boy,” he said, his voice steady despite the nerves wracking his body.

  Comet slowly pulled his head away from the wall, Robert gingerly taking a step back, the rope held tightly within the grasp of his shaking hands.

  Upon realising he could move, Comet instinctively turned away from the ferocious dogs in his midst, nearly breaking into a gallop, until he heard a grunt from beside him and a mild tug on his neck.

  Looking downwards, he saw the figure of the young boy next to him, holding onto the end of the rope, pleading and fear in his eyes, as he looked up into his face.

  “Please, c’mon boy,” Robert said, his voice quivering.

  Comet stared at him for several seconds, before turning, obeying the light tug of the rope.

  His instincts told him this child meant him no harm, so obediently, he followed the boys pull on the rope, sensing it would lead him away from the dogs.

  “Bloody hell,” Wally exclaimed, “he’s doing it.”

  “C’mon boy,” Robert continued, “that’s a boy, c’mon, follow me.”

  Comet followed closely behind Robert through the open gates.

  “Grab his things and let’s get out of here,” Robert instructed, his voice low, so not to startle the huge animal at the end of the rope.

  They walked along the wide alleyway and out into the street, Jack and Frank stood at the corner keeping watch.

  “What if we are seen?” Wally asked, walking alongside Robert.

  “Then we’ll make a run for it.”

  “Where to?”

  “I don’t know Wal, Timbuktu if we have to. Let’s just try and get him to the plots first.”

  “Okay,” Wally replied, turning to see Jack and Frank behind them, Comet’s tack held within their grips.

  Jimmy tried his best to keep up with them, dragging a weight of tack behind him.

  “This is really heavy Rob,” Frank exclaimed, between gasps.

  “Tell me about it,” Jimmy remarked.

  Robert stopped walking, Comet immediately coming to a stop beside him.

  He thought for a moment, before an idea occurred to him.

  “Carefully,” he said, “and I mean carefully, let’s see if we can get the stuff onto Comet’s back.”

  It took them several minutes hoisting the various bits of heavy tack onto Comet’s back, stood stock still, though uncertain of what the children were attempting to achieve.

  Eventually, apart from a few smaller pieces each boy held, the tack was balanced onto Comet and their journey continued.

  Several occasions occurred where they had to stop, spying headlights approaching.

  But apart from looks of bemusement from the drivers, nobody challenged or stopped them.

  “Lucky for us the police must be busy tonight, as I haven’t seen one at all!” Wally exclaimed.

  They were unaware, most of the local force were currently dealing with a fracas outside of one of the many pubs lining Stanley Road, in addition to attending to reports of the theft of half of the roof of a local church.

  They slowed their pace, passing one of the pubs on Seaforth Road, watching as Micky Lamb, one of their neighbours, staggered from the doorway onto the pavement.

  His hands clutched tightly around a paper bag, containing his carry out bottle.

  He glanced at them walking by, his eyes widening at the sight befallen him.

  The boys waved in his direction, continuing their journey.

  He stood watching them walk away, unsteady on his feet, as his hand instinctively reached for the cap of the bottle.

  “Excuse me,” a voice spoke, from not only behind him, but above him, “may I get passed please?”

  He moved to one side and let the huge man he saw standing at the bar earlier, step passed him into the evening air.

  “Ere, Sa, Sam, Sampson,” Micky said, inebriated, “did yer, did, did yer see that thing der?”

  He pointed in the direction of the children and horse.

  Arne glanced in their direction, not believing the sight his eyes found themselves gazing upon, before erupting in laughter, deep and uproarious.

  He patted Micky on the shoulder, nearly causing him to drop his precious package, wiping a tear of laughter from his cheek.

  “I did not see a thing my friend,” he said, “I did not see a thing.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Walking next to one and other, they slowly headed northwards along the sea-front.

  He held the wrap of newspaper in his hands, containing a couple of pieces of fish, across to her.

  Dipping her hand into the wrapping, she tore off a piece of fish as they headed along the promenade, in the direction of one of the wooden benches facing the Mersey.

  Taking a nibble, she savoured the taste on her lips, continuing to gently nibble at the white meat.

  “This tastes wonderful,” she said, patting at her lips with a cotton handkerchief, produced from her handbag.

  “It’s cod, a lot better than that snoek stuff the government keeps trying to get us to eat,” he said, taking a piece of the meat from the wrap and placing it into his mouth.

  The government previously embarked upon a campaign to popularise snoek, an inexpensive South African variety of fish.

  Their campaign however, was largely unsuccessful, as the British public found the fish extremely unpalatable and the vast stocks of it were eventually turned into cat food.

  “A shame we could not get any chips to go with it, but potatoes are scarce at the moment sorry,” David said.

  “Oh, don’t be silly David, the fish is really nice and you’ve really treated me this evening.”

  He smiled at her before placing another piece of fish into his mouth, recalling the evening they spent watching the film.

  He wanted to take her somewhere more extravagant, but she insisted a trip to watch a film would suffice.

  Several minutes of silence passed them by, until they reached the unoccupied bench. The other benches along the promenade, already held other couples of various ages.

  Leaning downwards and using a handkerchief he produced from his breast pocket, David wiped the wooden slats clean of any detritus, settled upon the bench.

  “My Lady,” he said, bowing theatrically, his arm outstretched in front of him.

  “Why thank you my Lord,” she said, trying her best to suppress a grin, to accompany the laugh she felt sure would escape from within her.

  She sat on the bench, David waiting until she was comfortable, before seating himself.

  “So,” he said, “what do you do for a living? I mean assuming you work?”

  “And why wouldn’t I work?” She replied.

  “Oh, I, I,” he stuttered, “I didn’t mean anything rude by it, forgive me.”

  She looked at him and he noticed the light curl of her lips, suppressing a grin.

  “Yes, David, I work.”

  “So, is it with kiddies then?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean Iris, do you work with kiddies or something?”

  “No, I work at Jacobs,” she replied, “why did you think it was with children?”

  “Because you’re so good with them.”

  “I’ve no choice really,” she replied.

  “Oh, why’s that?”

  “My Father, did not come back from the war,” she said, “and it’s only been me and my Mother to look after them. I learnt quickly.”

  “I had no idea, I’m sorry.”

  “He was on anti-submarine patrols near Italy when he was killed. The man from the Ministry, came to our house to tell my Mother himself.”

  “Iris, you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t wish to.”

  “No David, it’s okay,” she replied, her hands either side of her on the bench, “we’re all proud of my Dad,”

  She felt a tingle of excitement, as he placed one of his own atop of hers.

 
Instinctively, she turned her hand over and her excitement grew, as his fingers entwined with her own.

  “He served aboard HMS Laforey,” she said, looking across the waters of the Mersey.

  “He was one of the first crew assigned to her, when she was commissioned. That was in August of 1941. His name was Alfred, he was what they call an able seaman.”

  “His first posting was to Malta. My Mother cried after he’d left,” she continued, “she wouldn’t cry in front of him, but I remember hearing her weep, from inside of the front room whilst I played in the hall.”

  “We didn’t see him for almost a year. When he returned on leave, you should have seen how brown he was!”

  Smiling, listening to her recollections, David clearly heard both the joy and sadness in her voice, talking of her Father.

  “He brought the lot of us presents,” she continued, “my Mother even had a big ‘Welcome Home Alfred’ sign made for the occasion.”

  “It must have been lovely.”

  “It was,” she replied, “the lads were overjoyed at having our Father back. Mother was in heaven and even managed to get some time off from work, to spend with him.”

  “He took us on a lovely day trip to New Brighton baths. We’d never been there before, so it was really exciting for the lot of us.”

  “Maybe, you’d like to go again one day?”

  She turned her gaze from the river to him.

  “Maybe,” she said, staring into his eyes.

  They were interrupted, by the sound of a ships horn in the distance.

  “Anyway,” she said, returning her gaze to the waves of the Mersey, “where was I?”

  “New Brighton baths I believe,” he replied smiling, watching the contours of her face, silhouetted by the moon light.

  “Our Daniel, was only a tiny thing at the time. He’s still a bit short for his age, but the doctors said it’s to be expected.”

  “I noticed the brace,” he said.

  “Poliomyelitis,” she said, without turning her gaze.

  “Is it like Polio?” he asked.

  “It is Polio,” she replied, “I learnt a lot about it, because of our little Daniel, half of the reason why I wanted to be a nurse.”

  “If you want to be a nurse, then why are you working in Jacobs?” he asked.

  “Because, we need the money.”