by June Francis
‘OK,’ she said. ‘D’you want your tea topped up?’
‘Thanks.’ He pushed his cup and saucer towards her.
‘So have you heard anything from your journalist friend Isabella?’ Lucia asked as she refilled his teacup.
‘Yeah, she phoned this afternoon to ask how I was after my fall downstairs. I told her about the car accident and she was hell-bent on coming round to see how I was; offered to cook a meal for Jerry and me.’
‘Did you tell her that you recognized the men in the car?’
‘Not yet.’
‘But you plan on doing so?’
‘I’m thinking about it. She asked what was I thinking of, going out in such weather when I wasn’t fit even to climb stairs safely. I reminded her that I’d told her I was going to visit our Marty and, as you were visiting your aunt and uncle, we had decided to walk along together for safety’s sake.’
‘So did that shut her up?’
‘She said that she’d forgotten and apologized and offered again to cook me a meal.’
‘So when is that happening?’ Lucia asked, feeling a twinge of jealousy.
‘This evening. We’ll be working on the book.’
‘So if you tell her about the business with the car in more detail, including recognizing the two men, do you think she’ll suggest putting it in your book?’
‘Maybe! Especially as I’ve remembered who the passenger was. He was a right bright spark. We knew each other when I was about seventeen and ripe for anything that looked exciting. I remember he was amongst a gang of us who went to watch Bill Haley and His Comets at the pictures. We rocked in the aisles, and when we left the picture house we were still rocking in the street and a fight broke out. Some of us were arrested for disturbing the peace.’
‘Perhaps he has learnt you’re writing a book and is worried it might affect his chances of promotion if it came to light that he was once in prison.’
‘The police let us off with just a caution,’ said Tim. ‘Isabella could be right and I did let my imagination run away with me in believing the driver was aiming for me. Probably down to when I was hit by that car, after pushing little Johnny to safety.’
‘Could be,’ said Lucia and, lowering her voice, she added, ‘so he was never involved with the gang of crooks you got involved with later?’
‘Fred knew them better than I did because he lived in the same street as Will Donahue, the gang leader, so warned me to stay clear of them, but I was a fool and didn’t take any notice. I was in need of a few friends as Dad had chucked me out of the house. Now, the driver, I’ve a feeling he was a cousin of Will Donahue, who was a right bully at times. Fred went out with the cousin’s sister.’ A shadow crossed his face. ‘Let’s change the subject? Have you any news about the music group that lad Nick is part of?’
‘I saw him today. He and Chris came into the coffee bar. There’s a rehearsal at my aunt’s house on Friday. You’re welcome to come along. Jerry can come too. He’ll be able to play with my younger cousins.’
‘What about your lot? Who’ll look after them?’
‘Michael and Theresa, of course,’ said Lucia, wondering what her aunt would make of Tim.
‘Anyway, I’d best be going,’ he said. ‘You’ll be wanting to take things easy after working all day.’
‘I only work part-time,’ said Lucia.
‘That’s useful to know,’ he said, smiling.
As she saw him and Jerry out, she wondered what Tim meant by that last remark.
Only after she and Theresa had served out the evening meal did Lucia remember what Michael had said about Tim using her. Could that be what was on Tim’s mind? She tried to dismiss the thought but it still lingered. Well, she only had herself to blame if Tim was using her; after all, she had gone out of her way to be of help to him. And if the truth was known, she was only too pleased to do so. It was a way of getting to know him better. Even if he only wanted her or Theresa to keep an eye on Jerry, it was no skin off their noses because Jerry and Joseph got on so well.
It was only later that evening – Lucia heard a car pull up outside as she was drawing the parlour curtains – that she noticed a woman walking up to the neighbouring front door, and questioned whether she should rethink her decision to be there for Tim if he needed her help. It had to be Isabella who was heading up the path. She watched as the older woman patted Tim’s cheek as he stepped down on to the step after opening the door to her. You’re jealous of her, said a voice in Lucia’s head. You’ve gone and let Tim get under your skin, despite all the warnings Maggie gave you. If you don’t step back now, you’re going to get really hurt.
Lucia did not sleep well that night, and when morning came and Jerry appeared on their doorstep just after nine o’clock, she didn’t have the heart to turn him away. She decided that she would wait until after she and Tim went to her aunt’s to listen to the music group before making an attempt to cut Tim out of her life. Nellie and her Italian husband Michelangelo were bound to let Lucia know what they thought of her neighbour. Lucia respected their opinions, so would consider deeply what they had to say about him.
Fortunately there had been a thaw, so they would have no difficulty getting there by bus. Lucia had made use of the cosmetics that Babs had sent her for Christmas and she thought she looked so different she could only hope she hadn’t overdone it. She remembered her mother referring to Babs as ‘a painted hussy’ once or twice, and thought that her mother would have probably told Lucia to go and wash her face if she had still been alive. But Lucia liked the way the mascara and eye shadow made her eyes look larger, so she was glad to be able to please herself. She only wished she had a new outfit to wear, but just had to make do with the clothes she had worn on Christmas Day.
When she opened the front door to Tim, she was expecting to see Jerry with him, but Tim was alone. Before she could ask after his son, Tim told her that Mrs Hudson was home and had volunteered to listen out for Jerry.
‘That’s good of her.’
‘Yeah, I suggested that she might be too tired, after the journey home from her brother’s, but she said that she was glad to rest in front of her own fire in peace and quiet, knowing she was not completely alone but that there was someone else in the house. She doubted Jerry would disturb her.’
‘Did she have a good time in the south?’ Lucia asked.
‘Yes, said it was lovely seeing her brother, nieces and nephews. Anyway, if you’re ready, let’s be on our way. I told Mrs Hudson I wouldn’t be late back.’
Lucia switched off the lobby light and accepted Tim’s helping hand down the steps. ‘So how is the book coming along?’ she asked.
‘I had to remove Freddie’s name from the manuscript. In fact, Isabella has told me that it’s probably best if I delete a lot of the names I’ve mentioned, otherwise I might end up facing a libel charge.’
‘What did you say to that? Surely she should have told you to do that earlier?’
‘I said that to her – and also that people have got to have names.’
‘Perhaps you should put somewhere that “names have been changed to protect the innocent”.’
‘She said that too. But honestly, if I change the names they’re no longer the people I’m referring to – and why should they be protected? They’re no innocents.’
‘Maybe because they’re trying to turn over a new leaf? Just the same as you are. After all, you’ve changed your name.’ The words were out before she could think what effect they might have on Tim.
‘So you still regard me as a criminal?’ he said.
‘I don’t regard you like that at all, but you have to face up to the fact that you were once a criminal and it’s something you regret. You’ve been given a second chance to make good, and perhaps they want the same opportunity and see a need to protect their families.’
‘But where does that leave my story if I can’t be honest about those involved in the bad times in my life?’
‘Couldn’t you turn yo
ur book into a novel?’
‘No! Isabella reckons a true-life story will make more money.’
‘I presume she’s going to get a percentage of what the book earns?’
‘Of course, she’s helped me a lot and has already found a publisher.’
‘And I suppose they must agree with her? Have they read any of your story yet?’
‘The first few chapters, which they wanted me to scrap or work in later in flashback.’
‘What’s flashback?’
‘The character thinking back to an earlier event in his life. They want me to start the book at a more exciting point, just before the robbery. So I’m now actually starting with me just having dropped the gang off. I’m sitting in the car, tense with nerves and excitement, waiting and thinking.’
‘Gosh, there’s more to this writing game than I realized. Wouldn’t it be easier to start at the beginning of your life and carry on from there?’
‘Yeah, but apparently that would mean the reader wading through stuff that isn’t that exciting to get to the part of my life that is really challenging. Later I can include the things that brought me to that point and made me a person prepared to risk going to jail and bringing disgrace on my family.’
‘I see their point and, what with it being a true story, there will be readers who’ll want to know what happened next.’
‘She’s not considering you robbing a bank, is she?’ Lucia joked.
‘She should know me well enough to know I wouldn’t do it.’
‘So does she have anything else in mind? Such as what happened with the car on Boxing Day?’
‘I asked her about using that near the ending as she was not happy with my suggestion for an uplifting finish. I’d told her it was my story and I wanted a happy ending. I didn’t want her thinking of me having a shoot-out with the police or the gang and leaving it on a cliff-hanger with me lying bleeding in the gutter filled with regret for having let so many people down.’
‘Surely she wouldn’t do that? Although, if she thinks up that kind of stuff, it could be that she should be writing thrillers or scripts for American cops-and-robbers movies.’
‘You could have something there. Anyway, enough about Isabella and writing. We’re having a night out and I can’t wait to hear the music and to do some interviewing.’
Lucia linked her arm through Tim’s, slowing her pace to match his as they headed for the bus stop. They huddled together against the chilly wind blowing in from the Mersey and talked music and films. It was a relief when the bus arrived and they could sit down in the warmth. In no time at all they were getting off the bus opposite the library, passing the Red Lion pub and crossing the bridge over the Leeds–Liverpool canal. They turned right past the nursery school where Irene worked and then past the post office on the corner; it was not far from there to Litherland Park, a crescent of large houses with big gardens to the rear.
Lucia paused at a gate with sandstone pillars either side; on one was painted ‘The Chestnuts’. ‘This is it,’ she said, opening the gate.
Tim followed her up the drive and gave a low whistle as the house came into view.
‘I know,’ said Lucia. ‘It’s a fair size. I think it was built in Victorian times when lots of people had large families.’
The door was opened to them by Nellie’s stepson, Tony. ‘Welcome,’ he said, bowing and waving them in. He kissed Lucia on both cheeks and shook hands with Tim. ‘You’re just in time. We’re about to start. Lucia, could you see to your coats?’
She nodded, and because they were damp hung them over the banister instead of taking them upstairs. Then she led Tim into the front room, where a welcoming coal fire burned brightly. Several people were sitting facing the five young men, who were arranged with their musical instruments and amplifiers and mike at the far end of the rectangular room.
Lucia waved to her aunt and Irene who were seated together on a huge squashy sofa. They signalled her over so, taking Tim by the hand, she led him across. After introducing Tim to her aunt, they managed to squeeze on to the sofa. As soon as they were seated, the music started with ‘Big Bad John’. Then Tony sang Cliff Richard’s hit ‘When the Girl in Your Arms Is the Girl in Your Heart’. After that came Bobby Vee’s ‘Take Good Care of My Baby’, sung by Nick, who then sang Helen Shapiro’s popular bouncy song, ‘Walking Back to Happiness’. There was also a rendition of the instrumental, ‘Midnight in Moscow’, which had been a hit for Kenny Ball and His Jazzmen, which pleased Tim.
Then there was a break for refreshments, during which Lucia offered her help to Nellie and later introduced Tim to a few people and was reacquainted with Nick’s girlfriend. A petite young woman with curves in all the right places, blue-eyed with full lips and short black curly hair. She also had a light voice that was pleasant to the ear. Lucia could not help wondering what Nick’s stepsister, Bobby, thought of her, because she and Nick had been very close since they had first met in the coffee bar in the mid-fifties. Of course, Nick had already been friends with Chris, so he had known Grace before he met Bobby.
She thought about how many of her acquaintances had been through the mill. Nick had lost both his first adoptive parents early in his teens. Bobby had never known her father as he had died before she was born during the war. Tony had lost his Italian mother as a baby and been put in an orphanage. Fortunately his father had gone in search of him and traced him. Then there was Tim, whose father had hit him so hard in his youth that he had ended up in hospital. How had his mother felt? It must have torn her apart. Lucia hated violence of any sort. She remembered Nellie’s father hitting his second wife, an Italian woman, much younger than him, whom he had met just after the war in Italy. Nellie had gone to her defence, only to be threatened by her father. But having to face two angry, defiant women had caused him to back off. Not long after he had died, and not one member of the family had mourned his passing. A sad end to a life.
After refreshments, the second half of the evening began with Tony’s rendering of Elvis’s ‘Wooden Heart’. Lucia had been conscious of Tim having gone over to the group earlier and getting into a huddle in a corner with Nick and Tony. She hoped Tim now had enough information to write a decent article for the Mersey Beat newspaper.
She would ask him about it on the bus on the way home, she decided, but before then she’d give Nellie a hand in the kitchen, and find out what she thought of Tim.
‘He’s pretty well how I expected him to be,’ Nellie replied.
‘That doesn’t help me,’ said Lucia. ‘Have you been listening to Irene? I know she has no time for him.’
‘Can you blame her? He might have saved that little boy’s life at the risk of his own, but he was quick enough in the past to dump his son on his brother and Irene.’
‘He didn’t know that Marty and Irene were together then; he believed his sister Peggy was still sharing a house with Marty – as she had been when Tim left for London with his wife and Jerry.’
‘All right, you have a point there,’ said Nellie.
‘And before you say it, I know he lied to Maggie about who was looking after Jerry for him while he worked at building up his car repair business. She hardly ever stops warning me about him.’
‘You obviously haven’t taken her words to heart, though.’
‘I listened, but decided he needed a second chance to prove he had changed – and he has taken responsibility for Jerry now. But it’s not easy for a man on his own to bring up a child.’
‘A lot of women are having to do it since the war.’
‘I know that – but somehow women seem to cope better – and you have to admit we’re glad of someone to relieve us of the responsibility at times.’
‘I wouldn’t argue, love.’
‘I really appreciate knowing you’re nearby if I need help,’ said Lucia.
‘I know you do. But getting back to Tim – where do you see your relationship going?’
‘I don’t think too far ahead. I have enough to occupy m
y thoughts with the present. But it is good having a man friend close by who I can talk to and go out with occasionally.’
‘That mightn’t be enough for him, though.’
‘He’s not going to want to marry me!’ Lucia said, a quiver in her voice.
‘But he may want something from you without marriage,’ said Nellie hesitantly, in an undertone. ‘You’re an attractive young woman – and men have needs.’
‘You mean sex,’ said Lucia, blushing slightly.
‘Yes. I see you’ve thought about it.’
‘Not really.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean? You either have or haven’t.’
They both fell silent as Irene entered the kitchen. She stared at the pair of them. ‘Am I interrupting something?’
‘No, we were just talking,’ said Nellie. ‘Can I help you, Irene?’
‘That’s what I was going to ask you,’ said Irene. ‘Is there anything you want me to do?’
Lucia handed her a tea towel.
Irene said, ‘I bet you were talking about Tommy – or Tim, as he calls himself now.’
‘If we are, it’s none of your business,’ Lucia said.
‘There’s none so blind as those who won’t see,’ said Irene. ‘Open your eyes, Lucia. Falling in love with him will only end in tears.’
‘So speaks someone who fell in love with a man she believed to be married at the time,’ snapped Lucia.
‘Lucia, enough!’ said Nellie.
‘Why? I’m only speaking the truth.’
‘Yes, and it was a very painful journey at the time,’ said Irene.
‘But it all came right in the end,’ Lucia said, folding her arms across her chest. ‘I came in here just wanting to know what my aunt thought of Tim once she met him for herself – but obviously she can’t help but bring all she’s heard about him from those who knew him from the past into the equation. The person she hasn’t mentioned is Uncle Francis. He visited Tim in prison and has known him from a boy. He could see some good in him and thinks he deserves a second chance.’
‘He’s a priest, so he’s supposed to think like that,’ said Irene.