Live the Dream

by Josephine Cox

  Maureen was shocked. 'What d'you mean, "finish it"?' 'What d'you think I mean?' he asked impatiently. 'String myself up, o' course, an' have done with it!'

  Maureen was angry. 'That's a dreadful thing to say!' she chided. 'May God forgive you.'

  He seemed to be deep in thought for a minute, but when he looked up he shocked her again with his next statement. 'I've been thinking,' he grunted. 'God knows there's not much else you can do in a place like this.' Leaning forward he lowered his voice so it was almost inaudible. '/reckon it were her husband—Luke Hammond. For years she's carried on with one bloke after another…they say Luke Hammond were the only one who didn't know. Happen he found out about us, and went for her—meant to kill her mebbe, only it all went wrong and now he's lumbered with a mad woman.'

  Maureen was afraid. 'Keep your voice down, Arnie. You're saying a dangerous thing, and you never know who's listening.'

  'No, no, lass. I mean it!' He gave a deep groan. 'Mind you, since I've been in this damned place, I've blamed everybody that ever knew her. This time, though, I'm almost certain. Look, lass, if I were guilty, I'd serve the time and be done with it, same as I did afore. But I'm damned well innocent of this one! I'm telling you, there's somebody out there as knows who did the crime. And why was I fitted up—that's what I'd like to know? Who did it to me? What reason had they?'

  Maureen didn't want to be dragged into this conversation. She knew her husband's tendency to overdramatize. Sometimes it could be fun; now, though, it was self-pitying. 'I'm sorry, Arnie,' she said. 'It's time to go. They're coming to show us out.' And sure enough the two officers were already descending on them.

  As the guard led him away, Arnie blew her a kiss. 'See you next time, lass.'

  'Keep your chin up,' she told him. In a minute he was gone and she was being given her umbrella, which had been confiscated on entering. Without fuss or favour, she was then ushered outside.

  Feeling low as always whenever she came to see him, Maureen stood by the gates for a time, her mind full of the conversation she had shared with her husband.

  'It must be hell,' she muttered, 'to be locked away.' As a husband Arnie had been less than a success, especially when his temper was on him. Clumsy, often tired, late with his tea, losing things and sometimes nagging…she listed her faults. He'd always had an eye for other women but perhaps he had needed to look elsewhere because of her. If she'd just tried a bit harder…

  She looked up and down the street as though expecting someone to leap out and march her back inside to share her husband's punishment.

  'Where to, lady?' A cabbie drew up alongside her, seizing his opportunity.

  'I don't need a cab, thank you very much,' Maureen told him, 'not when there's a perfectly good tram service.'

  'How much is the tram compared to my cab?' he asked. 'Not much more than the price of a cuppa tea, I'll bet.'

  'So, how much will it cost me to Derwent Street?' she enquired.

  The cabbie looked her up and down. He saw how she was down at heel and straight out from visiting some poor sod in gaol. 'Go on then,' he answered.I'll run you there for a tanner. How's that?' i Maureen did a mental calculation and realised he was doing her a good enough deal. 'All right, Derwent Street it is.' Taking a great gulp of fresh air she climbed in.

  All the way there he talked: about the state of the nation and how, unless the heads of government got their thinking together sooner rather than later, they'd all be heading for a second world war. He talked about a recent visit to London, and how horses and carriages were becoming rarer and rarer. 'Soon, there won't be a horse on the streets, and that'll be a proper shame,' he complained.

  'There are still horses and carriages round here,' Maureen observed. 'And we still have the milk brought round by horse and cart.'

  He had an answer for that too. 'Ah, well,' he commented smugly, 'this is the North, and they do say as the North is allus lagging behind. But I'm glad of it, and so should you be. Things are changing too damned fast, if you ask me.'

  Before they reached Derwent Street, Maureen was informed of the 'crippling, rising prices'. 'These days, if you want a smart suit for going out somewhere special, you've to pay as much as two pounds. And look at the picture house. Only last year, you could sit through a three-hour picture for sixpence. Now you've to pay eightpence. Prices never go down, they allus bloody well go up, if you'll excuse the language…'

  By the time he dropped her off, Maureen would have 'excused' him anything to let her out of his cab. 'I don't suppose you can afford a tip as well,' he griped, holding out the fare in the palm of his hand.

  'Sorry,' she said. 'I can't afford tips.'

  'Well, then, good luck to you, and mind how you go.'

  'You too.' She waved him off with a smile on her face. 'It was a good try, I'll give you that,' she told the rear end of his cab as he went away up the street. Then she hurried into the shop.

  'Hello, Maureen.' Marie was at the till, serving a customer. 'Our Amy's in the back, if you want to go through?'

  After thanking Marie and enquiring about her busy day, Maureen made her way to the living quarters.

  'Mammy, Mammy!' On seeing her in the doorway, little Johnny ran to her. The and Amy went to see Daisy, and the man who got me out of the road was there and he told me about his friend…'

  He would have gone on, but Maureen quietened him down. 'Not so fast,' she laughed. 'What's all this about the man "getting you out of the road"?' That was the one remark that registered. 'What were you doing in the road in the first place?' She raised a quizzical gaze to Amy, who quickly _ explained.

  Once she was armed with the facts of the matter, Maureen could see that it was no one's fault really. 'It's a good job this man was there,' she said. 'And as for you, lad,' she wagged a finger at her son, 'you'd best do as you're told in future and stay close to Amy.'

  Uncomfortable, the boy looked from one to the other. 'I won't run out again,' he promised.

  'Now then, what's all this about a friend?' Maureen gave him a hug.

  Growing excited, Johnny explained, 'She's called Velvet, and one day me and Amy are going to see her. You can come too if you like?'

  'I should think the poor man has seen enough of you, without taking you to meet his friend,' Maureen said. 'And here you are,, inviting me and Amy into the bargain.'

  'The man won't mind,' Johnny assured her. 'He's nice.' He then returned to his toy train and Amy made Maureen a cup of tea.

  They had just settled down for a long chat, and Amy was coming round to ask Maureen if she'd found suitable work, when Marie came rushing in. 'The shop's getting busy,' she told Amy. I'm sorry, love, I know I gave you the day off, but I'd appreciate your help just for an hour or so.'

  Amy leaped up. 'Aw, Mam, you should have called me earlier.'

  Marie sighed with relief. 'Thanks, love. Oh, I nearly forgot, Maureen,' she added. 'There's a man in the shop to see you. I think he said he were a cabbie.'

  Leaving Johnny to his playing, both women followed Marie out to the shop, Amy to help serve the customers, and Maureen to see who wanted her.

  On seeing Maureen come across the room, the taxi driver stepped forward. 'I found this. I knew it must be yours 'cos you were the last fare I picked up.' Handing her the umbrella, which she had not missed, he went on, 'It was caught up in the offside door…'

  Shifting his gaze to Amy, who had just dropped a packet of sugar, he told her with a grin, 'Your mate here were in a right state when I picked her up from outside the prison. All white and shocked she were, as if she might faint any minute. No wonder she weren't thinking right when she climbed into the cab.'

  Deeply shamed, Maureen none the less had to thank him. 'Do I owe you anything?' All she wanted was to be rid of him. She propelled him towards the door. 'I mean, what with you having to come back and all…how much d'you want?' All she had in her pocket were two small coins, but he could have them if only he'd bugger off, she thought angrily.

  'Keep your copper
s in yer pocket, it's all right,' he answered. 'I were in this neck o' the woods anyway. Got a fare to collect from Penny Street.' With that he bade her goodbye and hurried off 'to earn a crust or two', as he put it.

  It wasn't only Amy who had been in the vicinity when he mentioned how Maureen had been to the prison; it was also Marie and the customer she was serving—though Mr Wagner was deaf as a post, his hearing destroyed by a shell explosion in the war, and he wouldn't hear the ceiling come down, not even if it fell right on top of him.

  After the customers had all gone, Amy saw that Maureen was close to tears.

  'Is it all right if we go into the back, Mam?' she asked, her arm round Maureen's shoulders.

  Marie could see the turn of events and her heart went out to the other woman. 'Aye, lass, you two go on. It's quieter now. Yer can send Johnny out to help me sweep up the sugar, if yer like.' It was Marie's way of letting Amy and Maureen have the little chat they obviously needed.

  A short time later, with her son out in the shop, Maureen apologised to Amy. 'I should have told you the truth before,' she said tearfully, 'only I were that ashamed, I couldn't bring myself to speak of it. I thought if you knew my Arnie was in prison, you would never want me or Johnny anywhere near you again.'

  Amy was mortified. 'I would never turn you and little Johnny away,' she said. 'I love you both, like my own family. And if you don't want to tell me your troubles even now, it's all right. You don't have to.'

  Maureen took Amy's hand into her own. 'You're a lovely lass,' she said, wiping her tears away with her free hand. 'I reckon you've known all along there was summat I had to hide, but you've never pressed me, and I'm grateful for that.'

  Amy could see how this whole sorry business was too painful for Maureen, and she didn't really know how to help her. But she could listen, and she could offer support. 'Like I say, Maureen, if you feel it's something you're not able to discuss, then don't. But if you can trust me, you know I'll keep your confidence and I'd like to help, if I can.'

  'I know you would,' Maureen acknowledged, 'but it's not summat anybody can help with.'

  'Try me,' Amy urged. 'You never know.'

  Nervously, Maureen confessed how she had been deceiving everyone. 'When I told you Arnie was working away,' she began, 'I was lying. He isn't working at all. He's serving ten years in gaol, for attempted murder.' Glancing about, she lowered her voice. 'His name is Arnold Stratton; the man who was convicted of attacking Sylvia Hammond.'

  'Good God!' Amy could hardly believe her ears. 'No wonder you've had to move from place to place. No wonder you didn't want anybody to know.' She began to understand now.

  'Langdon is my maiden name,' Maureen explained. 'I don't want people making the connection with Arnold Stratton, particularly for Johnny's sake. We've come to like living round here, and Johnny thinks the world of you,' she went on. 'You and Marie are the first friends we've had in a long time. It would break his heart, and mine too, if we were thrown out of Derwent Street.'

  Taking both of Amy's hands in hers, Maureen clutched them tightly. 'That's why you mustn't say anything,' she pleaded. 'I know Marie heard just now, and I know I can trust her like I can trust you, but don't tell nobody else. Promise me that much, Amy. Please? For Johnny's sake, if not for mine.'

  'Your secret's safe with us,' Amy promised. 'Does Johnny know about his daddy?'

  'No, and I don't want him to. Arnie has a terrible temper on him—but he can't help himself. His imprisonment has brought shame on us both. I'm terrified that me and Johnny will be tarred with the same brush.' She wiped away a tear. 'It would hurt the lad too much if he found out. So far, thank God, he doesn't know the truth of why we've had to keep moving on, and I pray he never will.'

  'He won't learn it from me or Mam,' Amy declared. 'You need have no fear on that score.'

  Maureen took her friend's hand and squeezed it in silent gratitude.

  'You say he's known to be violent?' said Amy.

  That's right! He'll think nothing of lashing out with fists and feet, and anything else that comes to hand. He threw a vase at me once and cut my forehead, look!' Shifting her hair aside, she displayed a crooked scar across the top of her hairline. 'A couple of inches nearer and he would have blinded me for sure!'

  Amy shook her head in disbelief. This was the kind of thing she heard about Daisy's parents. 'And he's confessed to having had an affair with Sylvia Hammond?'

  'Aye, that's right enough, lass—her and several other women that I know of!'

  She saw what Amy was getting at and now she could see it herself. 'Why! The bugger's led me a merry dance these years.' She gave a harsh laugh. 'An' there's me half believing his self-pitying and his moaning, instead of him taking his punishment like a man. He's bullying me even from inside prison.'

  When a moment later Johnny came back into the room, Amy took it as a sign that her mammy was waiting for help in closing up the shop for lunch.

  'Thank you, Amy.' Maureen was grateful for Amy's sympathetic ear. 'You'll not breathe a word of what we've discussed, will you…except to your mammy o' course?'

  'You know I won't.' Amy saw her and the boy out to the doorstep. 'Mind how you go,' she gave them each a hug, 'and remember, I'm here if you need me.'

  When they were gone, and Marie's curiosity was satisfied, she came to the same conclusion as Amy. 'It seems the man's a bully and a brute and, if you ask me, he's in the right place.'

  What Maureen had told Amy was still playing on her mind after she went to her bed that night.

  Poor Maureen. Amy tried to imagine what it might be like to be married to a violent man—a man who had been in prison—to live in fear of violence and bullying.

  Then her mind ran to the other victim of Arnold Stratton's violence: Sylvia Hammond. Why had she turned to this dreadful fella when she was married to someone so widely admired? Amy's father, and others, had firsthand experience of Luke Hammond and had only praise for him. She could not believe a man like that would ever deserve to be betrayed. If his reputation for fair-mindedness, even generosity, for sympathy and humanity, even despite his sharp business mind, were anything to go by, he sounded like the kind of man any woman would be glad to spend her life with.

  PART THREE

  •• •• •• ••

  November 1933

  •• •• •• ••

  TWIST OF FATE

  Chapter Eleven

  Well done, Jack. You've done a good job.' Trusting his own judgement, Luke Hammond had given Jack more responsibility than usual, and as always, the lad had not let him down. 'I wanted the buyers to get a good impression when they came to look round. They went away more than satisfied, and now I'm hopeful we'll get that big contract.'

  Jack appreciated the praise. 'If there's any chance of them using us to store and deliver their merchandise, we can't let them slip through our fingers.'

  That was Luke's thinking also. 'You never cease to amaze me, Jack,' he said thoughtfully. 'You're a born businessman, if ever I saw one. I wouldn't be at all surprised if one of these fine days, you'll be up and away to start your own company. Am I right?'

  'I won't deny it, Mr Hammond,'Jack answered cautiously. 'It's allus been my ambition to have my own factory. But I reckon it's a long time away yet.'

  'I wouldn't be too sure of that if I were you. You're not a man to sit on his backside while the competition takes over,' he told Jack. 'You'll want to be up there with the best of them. I've no doubt about that.'

  Suspicious that Luke Hammond was preparing to be rid of him, Jack assured him, 'It all teks money, as you well know, so I dare say you'll not see the back of me for some time yet.'

  Luke nodded. 'You're right about the money. You'll get nowhere without it, that's for certain, but it isn't everything. If a man's got drive and commitment enough, he'll always find a way. That's why I know you'll do it, and when that day comes, it'll be a bad one for me, I'm aware of that.' He smiled warmly. 'Happen the customers will move over to you. Then ag
ain, happen they'll stay loyal to me. We'll have to see who's the better man, won't we, eh?'

  Made nervous by Luke's last remark, Jack asked pointedly, 'Now that you know I mean to have my own business one day, I expect you'll be wanting me out now.'

  Luke looked him in the eye. 'The fact that you have a mind to be your own boss has only strengthened my faith in you. If I were to get rid of a man like you, I'd be the biggest fool this side of London town.'

  Jack was astonished. 'How's that, Mr Hammond?'

  Luke took a moment to observe the younger man: that tall, confident stance and the aura of conviction. 'You remind me of myself when I was that bit younger.' He laid a hand on Jack's shoulder. 'You know what you want and you'll not rest until you get it. You work hard and plan hard, and head towards your dream until it becomes hard reality.' His face crinkled into a deep smile. 'I admire that in a man.'

  'You've got me bang to rights,' Jack admitted. 'I've allus known what I want. And even if you were to send me on my way now, I'll never lose sight of my ambition, nor will I ever give up!'

  'Do you think I don't know that?' Luke went on to explain his thinking. 'I've no intentions of sending you on your way. I want you here with me, where I can keep an eye on you.' He took a deep breath. 'Think about it, Jack. I'd be sending you straight to the competition, and that would be the act of a very naive and stupid man…which I hope I'm not.'

  Jack nodded. 'I see what you're getting at.'

  'Good man! But that's not the only reason I want you here.' He paused to formulate his words. 'I'm sure you've already realised how fast we're expanding. Work is taking off at such a rate; the orders are pouring in and it seems before too long, I'll have need of another warehouse and a couple more wagons. That means I'll have more management work than a man can handle on his own, and that's where you come in.'