Midnight on Lime Street

by Ruth Hamilton

  ‘One hand can manage a tray with a few mugs on it, Eve. He rests the other end of the tray on his stump. You should see him working with tiny watches. He uses a hook with attachments in place of his left hand. The stuff he can do without it – he never fails to amaze me.’

  ‘You’re happy. I can tell you’re both happy. You look about twenty-five, tops.’

  Belle smiled. ‘I never thought it would happen to me.’

  ‘I’ve seen loads of girls married,’ Eve told her. ‘Some happily, some not. Your Tom might be short of a hand, but he’s a good man. He was very lonely, and I’m glad he found you.’

  Belle launched into an account of Tom’s interview panel. ‘It wasn’t so much a panel as the whole Spanish Inquisition housed inside my daughter. Lisa’s my mother all over again.’ She told Eve about the scullery being a laundry room and the middle room having been turned into a kitchen and living room. ‘So I was right next door while she interrogated him in the best room, the one her granny calls a parlour. I don’t know how he got through without laughing or busting a gut. I was in pain – honest, Eve.’

  Tom placed the tray on the table. ‘Your teas, ladies.’

  ‘I’m just telling Eve about Lisa interviewing you in your own house.’

  ‘Nightmare,’ he pronounced before sitting down. ‘And it’s our house now, love. I felt like giving name, rank and number and refusing to make any further disclosures to the Gestapo.’ He picked up a mug. ‘She asked me did dads buy things for their children. It was as if I’d gone for a job as head of ICI. I had the distinct feeling that she found me wanting. I’m surprised she didn’t turn up with a load of broken clocks and a written list of questions.’

  Belle giggled. ‘She’s been raised by my mam and dad, so she talks and acts like an old woman sometimes. And the way she stands, arms folded, chin stuck out a bit, just like my mother when she’s having a word with the window cleaner or the milkman. Then she brought me into it.’

  It was Tom’s turn to laugh. ‘She wanted to see the hand that wasn’t there, so I told her it wasn’t there, and she set her mother on me.’

  Eve was doubled over. ‘Stop,’ she begged. Any laughter had to be undertaken with care because of corsetry and ill-placed deposits of fat. ‘God, I’m dying here.’ This joke might not be a joke, because she felt terrible.

  ‘That’s not the end of it,’ Belle said. ‘Amelia-across-the-way has a swing fixed in the back doorway, one you can hang there on a nice day and take down when it’s cold or raining. So little madam came back the next day and said she wants one in both houses. Tom and my dad are run ragged fulfilling her orders. Her Christmas list is longer than the Bible, and she’s done a birthday list on the other side. She might be only three, but she’s already polishing her manipulation skills. Tom was over a barrel, weren’t you?’

  ‘Blackmail,’ Tom said, his face poker-straight.

  Eve smiled. ‘I think that’s what I’ve missed most – children and grandchildren. Kate’s the only family I’ve got, and we’re not even related.’

  ‘You’ve got us, Eve.’ Belle reached out and patted Eve’s arm. ‘I’d never have met my Tom if you hadn’t given me a place.’

  ‘I’d better go.’ Yet again, tears threatened, and Eve needed to leave the cafe before she showed herself up. ‘Thank you so much, both of you. And it’s nice to know I have some friends.’ She tried to struggle out of her seat until Tom helped her up.

  He sat down again when Eve had left. ‘She has regrets, Belle, and she doesn’t look too well. I wonder if regrets can make you ill?’

  ‘We all regret some things.’ She sipped her tea.

  ‘What do you regret?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, I wish I’d been there for my daughter and I wish I’d met you years ago. I wish I were young enough to carry and bear your child, and I’d like to have learned to drive when I was in my teens or twenties. The instructor isn’t impressed with me, and I’m not too keen on him. I’m sure he thinks we’re both going to end up in the river.’

  ‘Go to a different driving school, then.’

  ‘What? And frighten another man to death?’

  ‘You’ll be OK. It takes time. And I know a very good undertaker . . .’

  They left the cafe, both howling with laughter. He dragged her into the Odeon and bought two tickets.

  ‘What’s the film?’ Belle asked.

  ‘No bloody idea. We’re going courting on the back row.’

  So while Dustin Hoffman and his Mrs Robinson cavorted and worried their way through The Graduate, a pair of naughty and superannuated teenagers made the best of a double seat in the back row. ‘I’ve never done this before,’ Belle whispered.

  ‘Never?’ he asked.

  She shook her head and had a brief view of the graduate’s dilemma. ‘He was married,’ she mouthed. ‘And he knew what I’d done for a living before I met him. If he hadn’t died, he might have tried to say Lisa was somebody else’s.’

  ‘So you went to Eve’s to save up for Lisa?’

  ‘Yes.’

  A couple in front turned, and the man told them to shush.

  So they shushed, and a good time was had by both. When they left the cinema, it occurred to Belle that once again, she was living her life back to front. Most people courted before they got married, but she was different, as usual. She was arse over tip again, and she’d laddered one of her stockings.

  They rode home on the bus, sitting hand in hand like a couple of kids. ‘Tom?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t think I loved Lisa’s dad. This must be the first time I’ve been in love.’

  ‘And you’re how old?’

  ‘Thirty-five.’

  He put his mouth close to her ear. ‘My mother was over forty when I was born,’ he informed her.

  ‘So?’

  ‘So we should try for a baby.’

  She looked round the bus. ‘All right. But don’t you think it’d be a good idea to wait till we get home?’

  ‘Spoilsport,’ he chuckled. ‘By the way, what was that film about?’

  ‘No bloody idea, love. Dustin Hoffman jumping some old woman, I think.’

  ‘Bugger,’ he said. ‘I should have watched it; I might have picked up some tips. Still, never mind. I’m sure I’ll manage.’

  She placed her head on his shoulder. In that moment, she felt completely happy and fulfilled. She was on the right side of the law with the right man, and everything was . . . just right. ‘I love you,’ she whispered.

  ‘I should bloody hope so. These driving lessons are costing me a bomb.’

  DC Eddie Barnes, in the company of a female detective, knocked sharply on the front door. Bill Tyler opened it. ‘Oh, hello,’ he said, his voice rather shaky. What did the cops want? Did they think he might have stolen some of the scout hut stash? Or was this visit about keeping the family safe? God, he hoped so.

  ‘Are your parents in, Bill?’ Eddie asked.

  ‘No. They’ve gone to the pictures. It’s just me and our Danny. Come in and sit down.’

  Our Danny was mending a puncture on the bike. ‘Hiya,’ he said before continuing with the job on the hearthrug. ‘I never done nothing,’ he said, winking cheekily.

  The woman detective smiled – she was finally used to the cheek of Liverpool’s teenagers. Most of the time they meant no harm, although when they were bad, they were horrid, as the nursery rhyme said.

  ‘There’s no easy way to tell you this, Bill,’ Eddie began, ‘so I’ll just spit it out. Boss has scarpered, buggered off, left the stage, broken out of prison.’

  Bill’s jaw dropped. ‘But he was stuck in Walton Jail waiting for the wotsit – the trial, wasn’t he? Didn’t they say from the start he was dangerous enough to need top security instead of a cell in a cop shop?’

  ‘Definitely,’ the young woman answered. ‘The number of kids he’s given drugs to and . . . oh, shut me up, DC Barnes.’

  ‘Shut up, Sandra.’ He continued, ‘They did inde
ed say Boss needed locking up. He got out in a delivery van. He has money and friends, he’s under arrest for murder or manslaughter and he’s charged with drug dealing in Halewood, so he’s desperate.’ He spoke to the brother. ‘Danny?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You all need to move, and not necessarily together. We have a place for Bill. Now, we’re not sure that Boss will send somebody here, but neither are we sure that he won’t.’ He turned to Bill again. ‘Remember the three runaways?’

  Bill, white as a sheet, nodded.

  ‘We put in the paper that they are in a hostel in a place well away from Liverpool, but we never said where exactly. You’ll be with them.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Bill leaned against the door for support.

  Eddie went on, ‘Boss might think they stole his drugs and sold the lot. Or maybe he knows the police are involved and that his stash was confiscated. It’s amazing what they can find out in prison. All we published was the discovery of the runaways. The gang does know we found the stuff in Halewood, but the scout hut is officially just the place where the three boys lived; we never had an account in print of the police raiding the hut. Actually, when found, the lads had been in a coal cellar. It’s hard to predict what will happen, but you and the three runaway lads might be targeted. We never know which way Shuttleworth will turn, because he’s one slimy creep, and he just lashes out.’

  ‘OK.’ Terrified, Bill swallowed, but his throat was dry.

  Eddie spoke to Danny. ‘Your mother, your father, your other brother and yourself must stay with friends or relatives. Split into at least two groups. If you can’t, ask for me at the station and we’ll find you a safe house.’

  Bill fled upstairs to pack. What would happen to his job at Dad’s firm? Would Boss and his men come here at all? They might. They might come if they guessed that Bill had made a certain phone call which had put the cops on the scent of boys hiding in a scout hut. They might even go to Roy’s house, though that was unlikely, since Roy had died before getting the chance to grass on the growers and dealers.

  What would Mam and Dad do? ‘Detective Barnes?’ he shouted down the stairwell.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Doesn’t Boss know you found his drugs in the hut?’

  ‘Not sure.’ Eddie climbed the stairs and found Bill. ‘We’ve been waiting for the rest of his so-called staff to come looking for them, so the drugs are just a rumour up to now, because we’ve made no official statement to the press. If the men we haven’t caught yet think there’s a chance of retrieving the contents of that shed, they’ll walk straight into our honey trap. We have to get you away, lad.’

  The policewoman was talking to Danny in the sitting room. It was important to emphasize that as many people as possible should try to avoid the subject of drugs in the scout hut. ‘Do your best, Danny,’ she begged. ‘Shuttleworth’s gang has a few members still on the loose. He grassed them all, but we’ve at least six still missing and they might well be recruiting. Now, there’ll be a discreet police presence as near as possible to that hut twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week for a while. If the guys get desperate and come for the drugs, we’ll have them. But gossip spreads like flu, so keep quiet.’

  Danny nodded. ‘My dad was as mad as hell with our Bill when he found out what had happened. Mam and Dad told him for years to stay away from Roy Foley.’ He shrugged. ‘We all went to the funeral, though. Who killed him?’

  ‘We don’t know yet. But Bill’s been easily led in the past, you see. Yet he’s turned out to be a very brave lad. He alerted us with an anonymous phone call, and he went back on his own to see if he could save the boys who’d escaped from that school. After all, Roy had been murdered, and the three others might have met the same fate. Please don’t blame your brother. Be proud of him – he’s a brave young man.’ She smiled hopefully at Danny.

  Danny knelt on the rug and sat back on his heels. ‘Do we really have to move out?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sorry. Shuttleworth has power in the criminal world, and his temper’s never been under control. It’s all about him, you see. He will punish anyone he decides has betrayed him, and he won’t necessarily dish out the beatings or killings himself. I’ll stay with you till they get back from the cinema and till your other brother comes home. DC Barnes can take Bill away to safety. We’ll get Boss. For a start, you could hardly miss him, because he’s built like a brick outhouse.’

  Eddie entered the room with Bill. ‘Right, Sandra – we’ll be off. I’ll call back if I can after dropping this one off.’ He spoke to Danny. ‘This is serious, lad. Make sure your family knows how serious. Take good care of one another.’ After nodding at Sandra, he led Bill outside to an unmarked car.

  Bill stashed his belongings on the rear seat. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘To the three boys from the hut. Southport.’

  ‘OK.’ Bill paused. ‘But that’s only about twelve miles from Liverpool. I’ve biked it there many a time.’

  ‘Double bluff,’ Eddie told him. ‘They won’t be found. They’re on a private estate and now, with Shuttleworth on the loose, they can’t even go to school. We’ll have to get a tutor in.’

  Bill sat back and kept quiet for the rest of the journey. All this had been started by Roy with a few seedlings and a guy with knowledge about stealing electricity. Roy was dead, but the repercussions continued. It was like dominoes, he decided. You stood them up on the table and pushed the first, which hit the second, which hit the third . . . and they all came tumbling down.

  We were a bit snowed under at work, so I was out driving a van and collecting mail from post boxes. I was feeling pleased, because this could be a step towards promotion – well, you never can tell, since the fact is that I know every angle of this job. So I did the run in quick sticks and was just locking the back doors of the van after my last pick-up when I saw them.

  They were sitting and chatting in Jenkinson’s. Everybody knows Jenkinson’s. It’s that chip shop where you can buy your meal to take away, or you can sit at a table and eat in comfort. It’s a great place; they have the sense to make sure the fat’s boiling before they start chucking things into it, so the food’s not soggy and soaked in grease.

  And there they were, bold as brass and like a proper family, drinking tea near the window. Fat Mamma needed help to stand up, and she waddled away up the street as if she were made of jelly, great fat legs and a backside as wide as a dual carriageway, she has. She didn’t look well. Her face was grey and I could see that walking was hard work for her.

  So I pretended to have a bit of trouble with the lock. The other two came out. One was the chap with the missing hand, and I remember travelling with him on one of Fat Mamma’s runs. With him was the one called Belle. As far as I know, she does massage up on the second floor of Meadowbank. Leaving the van (we’re not supposed to do that), I followed them. They walked into the Odeon, and I rushed away to complete the job. By half past five, I was back at the depot, and by six I was out, deadline beaten, smiles all round.

  Joseph Turton and I have been allowed to swap shifts when we need to because of his mother. Everybody knows now that I’ve left Laura, and I don’t seem to mind them knowing, because that’s the least of my problems. Joseph’s at home until quarter to ten tonight, so I thought I’d go and watch that film, The Graduate. Mrs Turton’s usually no bother in the night as long as she doesn’t fall when trying to get to her commode.

  Well, I didn’t bother going into the cinema. The Odeon’s a big place, and it’s dark, of course, and I might not find them, so I just hung round in the street imitating a spare part until they came out holding hands like a couple of school kids on a first date. I followed them. On the bus, they sat joking and giggling – it’s enough to turn a man’s stomach. When they got off the bus, I got off. So now I have their address. Nice houses with little front gardens all neat and tidy. A big dog greeted them as soon as they opened the door. Wavertree.

  Neat? Tidy? How neat and tidy can the man be if
he’s living with a whore? She’s from Meadowbank Farm, and she’s quite a looker, too. According to Angela, Belle is good for anyone in pain, because she’s done a course in massage. Has she left Fat Mamma? They seemed very close on the bus, almost like newly-weds.

  I’ll have to go home soon and think about this. Joseph will be worried, so I’ll give him a quick ring from a call box before he gets that neighbour in, the one who wants paying. I like looking after Joseph’s mum. When she’s well enough to sit at her table, we play cards and dominoes. I’m making her a big tray with legs so she can sit up in bed and play games or do a jigsaw. I must remember to buy her a couple more pillows.

  My hand’s healing well. I wound the wire round a couple of boxes, told Joseph I’d cut myself on it. The police are busy round the docks again, but they’ve no idea how or where to find me. I no longer shout in my sleep. I think that all stopped when I was living in Greasy Chair Hell. But I do miss the kids. Oh, and I must find out what Laura’s up to with her powder and lipstick.

  After phoning Joseph, I talk to Fat Mamma.

  ‘Is Belle there?’ I ask. ‘I usually see Angela, but I think I need Belle.’

  ‘We’re shut,’ she says. She doesn’t like me, and the feeling’s mutual.

  ‘I was hoping for a back massage,’ I moan. ‘I hurt myself at work.’

  There’s a pause. ‘She left,’ she pronounces. ‘I’ll get another masseuse in time, but not yet, because we’re closed.’

  ‘Right,’ I say. ‘Why did she leave?’

  Another pause. ‘She left to get married if you must know.’

  ‘That’s nice, Miss Mellor. I hope she’s happy.’ I replace the receiver. Now, there’s an interesting challenge; Belle’s away from the docks, married, probably no longer on the game. She’ll think she’s fallen on her feet. Oh no, Belle. You’re going to drop to your knees like a stone when I get round to you. I can guarantee that.

  Eve suspected that she was supposed to feel grateful, since Detective Constable Barnes had been kindness itself. He and a friend called Dave had helped in their spare time, removing the massage table, Angela’s range of fixed equipment and just about anything else that might have betrayed the secrets of Meadowbank. It was now a genuine-looking refuge for ill-treated women. The decor was loud, but Eve told other cops who used the house that it had been like this when she bought it.