by June Francis
Ten minutes later, he and Jerry saw a smartly dressed middle-aged woman approach the car, unlock it and climb into the driving seat. She sat there for a few minutes, having opened a compact and taken out a lipstick, she applied it. There was something about the way the woman performed that act that reminded Tim of someone, although he would have sworn he had never seen the woman before. But then it was some time since he had visited the area, and people he had known years ago would have changed, just as he had done. He decided to follow the car and see where it went. As it was, the chase took him all the way to an area of new housing close to West Derby village.
He could only think that the woman had once lived in St Anthony’s parish but had since moved away. She must have returned to visit family or friends and her car had been borrowed for a short while without her knowledge. He decided to inform Inspector Walker immediately and, having remembered passing a telephone booth a short while ago, he drove back and phoned from there.
Sam was impressed with what Tim told him, and sent a constable to visit the woman. ‘Leave this to us now, and go home, Tim,’ he said. ‘I’ll keep you informed if we find out anything.’
‘I’ll be at Lucia’s,’ said Tim.
Fifteen
So, feeling dejected, father and son made their way to Lucia’s. Tim felt even worse when he confronted her with his suspicion that Joseph had been mistaken for Jerry and abducted.
He watched with pity and guilt as her face crumpled, thinking her family was right and that she should never have got involved with a man like him, but when she appeared to be about to faint, he could not resist reaching out and putting his arms around her. ‘There, there,’ he murmured. ‘All isn’t lost,’ and, as he told her what was being done to find Joseph, he felt her body start to relax.
She lifted her head and gazed up at him through tear-drenched eyelashes. ‘He must be so frightened.’
‘I doubt they’ll hurt him,’ said Tim. ‘If Donahue is after a ransom, that would be stupid.’
‘I bet he’s heard about the book and thinks it’s going to make a fortune and they want a share. You’ll have the perfect ending for the book if Joseph is rescued, and you won’t have to give the swine a penny in that case.’ Lucia’s head drooped against Tim’s chest again. ‘I wonder if Uncle Francis could help us? His parish is not far from St Anthony’s and he knows a lot of the families in the area.’
Tim decided to mention this to Inspector Walker when he telephoned with news that evening. As it happened, the inspector sent his son Nick to call on Tim and Lucia. Apparently fingerprints had been discovered on the car door and steering wheel and elsewhere, which the car owner told them most likely belonged to her brother. Nevertheless, the police checked their files and found that they matched William Donahue’s. When the police informed her that the car had been used in a kidnapping, she was furious, saying her brother had borrowed it while she was in church. She wasted no time providing them with an address on Everton Brow where he was most likely staying.
A few hours later, the tense and anxious Tim, Lucia, Jerry and Theresa heard the doorbell ring. Rushing to get to the front door first, they managed to block the kitchen door in their haste. Eventually Tim held his son and Theresa back so Lucia could get through and open the door.
Sam and Joseph stood on the step. Lucia swiftly drew her brother into the house and hugged him fiercely. Then she thanked Sam who had followed them inside.
Having reassured herself that Joseph appeared unharmed but for a slightly swollen face, she asked him was he hungry. He nodded and said, ‘I’ve lots to tell you. Is Jerry here?’
She nodded. ‘And his dad.’
‘Good. Inspector Walker told me that Jerry saw me being kidnapped and it was thanks to him and his dad that I was found so quickly. I nearly managed to escape but the inspector said it was best that I didn’t.’
‘Why is that?’ asked Lucia.
‘Because it was better my being found in the apartment with that horrible man,’ said Joseph. ‘It meant he was caught red-handed. The lady who was there was told she was an accessory after the fact.’ Joseph glanced up at Sam, as if he wanted reassurance that he had the words right, and received a nod.
Then Sam said, ‘As it was, she told us she knew nothing about it, and Joseph backed her up because he heard them arguing. Donahue also hit her for allowing Joseph to almost escape.’
‘Her name is Bella,’ said Joseph, ‘and she was kind to me.’
‘Well, all’s well that ends well,’ said Lucia, sitting next to Tim on the sofa.
‘I can’t help feeling partly to blame,’ said Theresa. ‘If I’d kept a closer eye on the boys it might not have happened.’
‘You can’t watch boys all the time,’ said Sam. ‘They have a way of going off looking for an adventure in the normal way of things.’
‘I want to know what’s to happen to Will Donahue,’ growled Tim.
‘He’ll be charged with kidnap,’ said Sam. ‘Which means a long prison sentence if found guilty. It’s not going to be too difficult to prove he did kidnap Joseph, and had it in mind to demand a ransom for his release, believing him to be Jerry. I’m pretty sure that this woman, Bella, will turn Queen’s evidence, as it will go easier for her, so hopefully the boys won’t have to appear in court.’
Tim nodded, wondering aloud if the Bella in question could possibly be the journalist, Isabella.
Sam provided him with a positive answer. ‘Yes, I recognized her from the times she asked questions for the Echo at police press conferences.’
‘Her involvement with Donahue explains a lot,’ Tim said in a tight voice.
‘It proves what a devious woman she is,’ Lucia could not resist saying.
‘But how did she get to know Donahue?’ asked Tim, glancing at Sam.
‘She knows him from way back, found him attractive and exciting, then lost touch, but when he was arrested after the robbery, she went to the trial. She later visited him in prison and her youthful feelings for him were rekindled, apparently. When you reappeared on the scene, Tim, he told her that he wanted revenge. He came up with the idea that she approach you and find out what was behind you and Sid making a getaway. Apparently he had never quite trusted the cousin.’
By that time Joseph and Jerry were drooping with weariness, and Lucia went up to the bedroom with them.
‘So what next, Tim?’ asked Sam.
‘I finish my book and take some time out to decide what steps to take to keep us all safe. My moving away obviously didn’t solve the problem. Even though I didn’t let Isabella know I’d moved. She must have been keeping Donahue informed of my movements until then. I remembered too late that I told her about my plans for the garage.’
‘She used to go and visit Donahue in Walton jail monthly,’ said Sam.
‘Obviously she enjoyed flirting with danger,’ said Tim, standing up and stretching. ‘I’d better make a move.’
‘You going back to Crosby?’ asked Lucia.
‘Not right now. My landlady wouldn’t care to be disturbed at this hour. But you need to get some sleep. I thought I’d sleep in the van outside. Keep Fang company and my eye on this house and think things over.’
Lucia recalled the night after the car incident when he had slept under her roof, but she kept silent. Too much had happened that day for her to be thinking clearly about her feelings towards Tim.
The following morning Jerry and Joseph could be heard discussing their adventures of yesterday. As Lucia listened to them, she thought that – on the face of it – it seemed that they had come through the kidnapping unscathed, regarding it as a big adventure. Yet in the days that followed she came to realize that she was mistaken. They stuck to playing in the back garden, and during that time Joseph would often come inside to see where she was and Jerry would go out to the van that was still parked in front of Lucia’s house. It had moved several times and she had thought Tim was returning to Crosby, but so far he kept coming back, as if he felt the need to keep his eye on the h
ouse, despite it being highly unlikely they would be bothered by Donahue and his gang ever again.
Deciding that both boys needed to be taken out of themselves, Tim made up his mind to ask for their assistance in renovating the van. He had already enlisted Marty and Michael’s help in making the interior more comfortable. Now Tim wanted a completely new look outside, and for that purpose he had bought several tins of paint in a variety of colours and asked the boys to come up with a design that was bright and cheerful. They decided on a scene with animals and birds and lots of bright green grass and blue skies, so after removing a couple of side panels and putting in windows, Tim and the boys set to work painting the outside of the van. He talked to them and Lucia about going out on trips in the van. She welcomed the idea but was not overly keen to his face. After all, she had not been invited to see the interior of the van yet, although she had found pleasure in watching its outer transformation take place. Besides, he had said nothing more about them getting married.
As the leaves on the trees changed to russet, gold and red, floating to the ground and forming rustling carpets for hurrying feet, and the geese flew in from the Mersey estuary on their way to the bird sanctuary at Marten Mere, not only was the van finished to Tim’s satisfaction, but Michael’s eighteenth birthday approached and so did Donahue’s day in court. He had already admitted his guilt, though, so it was only a matter of sentencing.
So that morning Tim knocked on Lucia’s front door and asked if she would like to come and see what he had done to the inside of the van.
She accepted his helping hand to climb into the back via the rear doors where there was a space for baggage. She gasped in amazement when she saw the seating and how light the interior was. ‘You and Marty and Michael did all this yourselves?’
‘Yes, I thought we needed plenty of seating if we wanted to take the kids out before winter sets in, and if anyone else wanted to come as well.’
She stared at him, speechlessly.
His face fell. ‘Don’t you like the idea? Is it that you’re still annoyed with me over what happened to you, Michael and Joseph and feel you can’t trust me?’
‘It’s none of those things,’ Lucia said. ‘It’s just that I’m amazed that you’ve gone to all this trouble.’ She almost added for me, but he hadn’t said anything anew that would cause her to believe that was the case. She guessed he was doing his best to make up for what had happened to Michael and Joseph and she liked him for that. But surely if he had anything intimate to say to her, then he would have suggested them having a day out, just the two of them, again? ‘When did you have in mind to take the children out?’ she asked.
He suggested that they check out the weather forecast before making a decision. Once this was done, they decided on the coming Saturday if she could get time off again. Tim suggested going to Thurstaston on the Wirral. ‘It’s years since I’ve been there but I remember having fun. There’s a beach, but it’s not the least bit like Seaforth or even Formby. There are sandstone cliffs where the boys can look for fossils, and there’s plenty of grassy places and rocks and gorse bushes where they can play hide and seek and we can picnic.’
‘It sounds great and I’m really looking forward to it and so will the boys,’ Lucia said.
‘But first I’d like to know that Will Donahue is going to be put away for a long time,’ she added in a tight voice.
Nick came to give them the news that Donahue would be an old man by the time he came out of prison. Nick also handed Tim an envelope. After reading the contents he handed it to Lucia. She saw that the letter was typewritten and was from Isabella. Lucia soon realized it was an apology of sorts to Tim concerning the journalist’s involvement in Donahue’s scheme to bring down Tim. After reading it, Lucia handed the letter back to Tim. ‘The things a woman will do for love,’ she said.
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that there was a lot a man would do for the love of a good woman, but decided now was not the right time.
The day of the outing dawned and, although the sky was overcast and they moaned about the weather forecasters getting it wrong again, they decided to go out, knowing how disappointed the boys would be if they cancelled the trip. Fortunately, by the time they left the Mersey tunnel behind in Birkenhead, the clouds were starting to disperse and shafts of sunlight brightened the road ahead. Lucia glanced sidelong at Tim and thought he looked pleased and her happiness soared.
She began to sing the counting song, ‘Ten Green Bottles’. Within minutes Tim and the boys had joined in, and following on from that she sang ‘The Teddy Bear’s Picnic’. It was Joseph and Jerry who piped up with ‘We’re off, we’re off, we’re off in a motor car.’ Even Fang – curled up at the boys’ feet – woofed.
Lucia shot Tim a questioning glance to see how he felt about this song, of which the following lines were: ‘sixty coppers are after us and we don’t know where we are’.
But he joined in, saying, ‘I remember singing this when I was a kid and the mothers in the street collected money weekly so as to hire a charabanc to take us to Blackpool to see the illuminations.’
‘Happy days,’ said Lucia. ‘I remember that as well. I don’t think it happens as often these days.’
‘Most likely because more people have their own transport, and maybe because a lot of those kids who are adults now aren’t so keen on giving up their time and money to see the illuminations. They seemed magical to those of us who lived in houses lit by gas.’
‘I’ve never thought of that being a reason for the magic,’ Lucia said. ‘Do you remember when electricity came to your old street?’
‘Yeah, everybody was dead excited. I remember there was a cocky watchman who stayed in the street overnight keeping his eye on the trenches where the cables were laid and the like. He had a sort of tent and a brazier to keep him warm. Us kids loved that brazier; we’d go and warm ourselves by it when we were playing out in the dark.’
‘I like it that we both have similar memories to share despite the age difference between us,’ she said.
‘Does the age gap still bother you?’
‘It never has that much, except for knowing it bothered other people.’
‘Then let’s set it aside and make memories together that will bring a sparkle to your eyes,’ said Tim.
She blushed, remembering that evening on the shore after visiting Nellie’s. Unexpectedly Michael and Marjorie popped into her head. ‘I wonder whether Marjorie will have a boy or a girl.’
‘I doubt they’ll care with it being their first.’
‘I remember Dad saying “as long as it’s healthy and you’re all right, love”, to Mam after each baby was born,’ Lucia said.
‘I think my dad preferred the girls to Marty and me.’ There was a tension about Tim’s mouth that caused Lucia to say, ‘But your mam, I bet she loved the bones of you and Marty?’
‘Oh yeah, I was her darling boy and Dad hated that. Thinking about it now, it wouldn’t surprise me if that was the reason why he was so hard on me.’
‘He was jealous of the attention your mother gave you?’
‘I suppose there could have been that, but I was thinking more that he thought she was making a sissy out of me and he believed that to make a man of me he had to beat me to toughen me up.’
‘That’s ridiculous! He sounds a right bully, and you could have ended up like him – a child-beater.’
‘He wasn’t a child-beater altogether, though. I was the only one he hit.’
‘How was your mam with your sisters?’
‘She loved the girls; enjoyed going shopping with them and talking about clothes and cooking, as well as churchy things. Of course, she likes babies and is made up because our Lil, her husband and the baby still live with her. Lil hates me and thinks I’m a disgrace to the family. She told me so to my face.’
‘So no sense of family loyalty then?’ Lucia thought how his sister’s actions must have really hurt him, because he had mentioned that to her several tim
es.
‘She blames me for Dad’s death; said if I hadn’t gone to the bad he wouldn’t have died. She just won’t accept that Dad fell in the canal because he was blind drunk. There was no way Dad would have committed suicide: he loved himself too much. Can we change the subject now?’
‘That’s fine with me.’ Lucia gazed out of the window at the hedgerows.
‘Where are we?’
Tim peered through the windscreen at the road ahead. ‘I think we’re near Irby, so we shouldn’t be long now. I’ve never driven to Thurstaston before; it’s on the opposite side of the Wirral from New Brighton, near the river Dee, below Hoylake and West Kirby.’
‘I see,’ said Lucia, although she didn’t. Living in Seaforth in Lancashire meant that, unlike Tim, who had grown up in Liverpool, she had seldom crossed the Mersey on the ferry to visit places in the Wirral, but rather had been taken to Formby, Ainsdale or Southport and Ormskirk as a child. ‘Have you been further afield locally in Lancashire?’
‘Yeah! Us kids used to go on the tram on our own to the bluebell wood in Kirkby, and then if Mam couldn’t afford the fare we’d walk to Stanley Park near Anfield football ground, or to the Pierhead to watch the boats coming and going.’
It was not until they arrived at Thurstaston that Lucia realized just how wide the Dee was at that point because the distant coast seemed miles away. She asked Tim if he knew how far away the Welsh coast was.
‘About five miles, but the Dee gets narrower and narrower the further upstream you go. It’s tidal, just like the Mersey. Chester was once a more important port than Liverpool, then the Dee silted up, most likely due to the monks – who lived in the abbey in Chester where the cathedral is now – building a weir. In fact the river used to come up as far as the walls of Chester Castle in medieval times, but now you can cross the Dee by bridge at several points in Chester. It was due to the Dee silting up that Liverpool grew as a port and King John gave it a charter, using the port to transfer troops to Ireland when necessary.’
‘How do you know all this?’ asked Lucia, impressed.