by Anna King
Immediately Grace pulled her hand away.
‘Now hang on, Vi. I said I’d help in any way I could, but that’s asking a bit much. Bloody hell! I think I’d rather come face to face with Hitler than tell Nan you’re off to the other side of the world… Well, it’ll seem like it to her.’
‘Please, Grace,’ Vi pleaded, the tears now running unchecked down her cheeks. ‘I know it’s a lot to ask, and I know you’ve your own worries, what with not knowing what’s happened to Stanley and then there’s you and Nobby… Oh, Lord, Grace, don’t look at me like that. It’s obvious you’re in love with the man, and he’s mad about you too! But there’s no one else I can ask… Please…’
And Grace, looking into the tear-stained face, the face she was going to miss more than she had ever imagined, shook her head.
‘All right, Vi. I don’t know how I’m going to break the news, but it’d better be after you’ve gone. Oh, Vi, I’m going to miss you…!’
As of one accord the two women rose and held each other close. And the more they hugged the more they cried, because even with all the talk about having holidays every year, they both knew that after Vi left, they might never see each other again.
* * *
‘Look, Aggie, I’ll have to go. I’ve gotta be up by five,’ Nobby protested as Aggie poured him another good measure of whisky from one of two bottles he had brought with him that evening. Though to be truthful Aggie had been more delighted at the two bars of soap he’d also brought. You couldn’t get the stuff for love or money these days, unless you knew the right people, of course.
‘Don’t be daft, lad. I’ve never known you not to be able to hold your drink. An’ I could do with a bit of company, seeing as how everyone seems ter have decided ter have an early night. Now, get that down yer before yer leave.’
Knowing it was useless to argue, Nobby took the drink.
He’d have to go careful tonight on the way home. The last thing he needed was to be stopped for drunk driving – and asked awkward questions about how he happened to have a full tank of petrol. Then again, it would get him out of tomorrow’s escapade.
The thought of the morning brought a nervous quiver to his stomach and he took a large gulp of the amber liquid. All those years he had flown, been shot at and finally brought down, never in all that time had he felt as scared as he did right now. So much for the local hero, he thought scathingly.
All of a sudden he felt faint. Shaking his head he sat up straighter. That was funny, he’d never felt like this before after a drink. Downing the last drop he thought, It’s probably nerves, thinking about tomorrow. But still, he did feel a bit odd, like he was going to pass out. He shook his head again, trying to clear his vision, and a suspicion dawned on him. The way everyone had suddenly become sleepy and headed off for an early night just after nine o’clock. With tremendous willpower he turned his head to where Aggie was standing by the wireless. The news had just finished, and Sincerely Yours – Vera Lynn, the sentimental half-hour linking the men in the forces with their wives back home, was just starting.
‘How about another one fer the road, lad?’
Aggie was standing over him, and in a flash he knew.
‘Aggie, what’d yer put in me drink? Aggie, yer silly cow, yer bl… bloody, si… silly…’
The glass dropped from his hand and Aggie smiled triumphantly. She’d slipped him enough sleeping pills to keep him out for at least 24 hours, by which time it would all be over and hopefully the Davidsons would be under lock and key. Humming to herself she replaced the sleeping pills in the kitchen cabinet, pills the doctor had prescribed for Polly during her bad period. She’d meant to chuck them, but was glad now that she hadn’t, for not only had she slipped them into Nobby’s drink, but also into the rest of the family’s nightly mug of cocoa. Not as many as she’d given Nobby, of course, just enough to ensure they were out of the way, while she put Nobby out of action. Going back to the sitting room she lifted Nobby’s feet up on to the settee and covered him over with a thick blanket, then, impulsively, she leant over and kissed him tenderly on the forehead.
‘Sleep well, lad. By the time you wake up, it’ll all be over. I’ve got it all worked out, don’t you worry. You was with me on the night of that first hijack, and I’ll swear on God and the Holy Bible itself if I have to. I’ll look after yer, lad, ’cos let’s face it, what would we all do without yer!’
She sank down into the armchair opposite Nobby, humming along to the wireless until the music ended.
Turning out the light Aggie went up to bed, singing softly, ‘We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again, some sunny day.’ And there would be plenty of sunny days now she had made sure her lad was safe.
Before she turned in, she checked on her girls, who were all fast asleep, then she went happily to her own bed, sure in her mind she had done the right thing.
* * *
On a dark, lonely stretch of road between Dover and the Kent borderline, seven men sat huddled in their cars, their faces covered with woollen balaclavas, not only to avoid recognition, but also to help keep out the penetrating October cold that was seeping deeper into their bones with each minute that passed.
In the first car sat the Davidsons; behind them, in a black Ford, sat four well-known villains, all of them awaiting the arrival of the two lorries that would make their fortunes. But there was one man missing, and the absence of that man was making the others very uneasy.
‘He ain’t coming, is he, Phil? The bastard ain’t coming. I told yer yer shouldn’t ’ave trusted him. What if he’s squealed to the coppers? Yer should’ve got someone else, he—’
‘Shut yer gob, Pete, before I shut it for yer,’ Phil Davidson growled menacingly. ‘I’ll deal with Clark, don’t you worry about that.’
‘And what about yer mate Arthur,’ Pete persisted. ‘Those lorries should’ve been ’ere half an hour ago. If we’ve been had fer mugs I’ll…’
His words were cut off by the sound of a heavy vehicle approaching. In the darkness, Phil smiled grimly.
‘Yeah, Pete. Yer was saying?’
‘All right, all right. This ain’t the time fer arguments. Now yer know what ter do, George. Yer should do. We’ve been over it enough times.’
Crouched behind the wheel, George Davidson grinned.
Phil climbed out of the car and clicked his torch twice to the men sitting in the vehicle behind before getting back in. Their hearts pounding with excitement and fear, the men waited. Then, as the masked headlights of the first lorry appeared in sight, Pete Davidson shouted, ‘Now, George. Now!’
Immediately, George Davidson started the car, swinging it across the lorry’s path. Almost simultaneously, the Ford roared forward to form a complete roadblock.
Within seconds all seven men were out of the cars, the Davidsons moving towards the first lorry, the other four men racing to intercept the second lorry before the drivers realised something was wrong. All seven men were carrying guns, confident that the mere sight of the weapons would stop any heroics on the drivers’ part.
But no sooner had the hapless drivers been pulled from their seats than a strong voice, amplified by a loud hailer, called out, ‘This is the police. Throw down your weapons, and lie face down on the ground. I repeat, this is the police. We are armed and have you completely surrounded.’
The seven men stood transfixed as the light from dozens of torches flickered on and off all around them as the police moved in.
‘Come on, Davidson. Don’t try anything stupid. There’s no way out. Give yourselves up quietly. It’ll go easier on you if you do.’ The voice from the loud hailer was speaking again as swarms of uniformed policemen moved in on the stunned men.
Then George, his eyes glittering wildly behind the mask, screamed, ‘Yer ain’t taking me in, copper!’ before opening fire, his gun spewing out bullets indiscriminately. The very second the first bullet was fired, the police marksmen returned fire.
&
nbsp; ‘Fucking hell!’ Phil and Pete Davidson spoke almost as one, then dropped to the cold ground, their guns aimed at the uniformed officers.
George Davidson was the first to fall, still screaming his defiance. Pete and Phil Davidson continued shooting, knowing they had no chance of surviving the merciless hail of bullets coming at them from all sides. Pete Davidson died with a single gunshot to his head, while Phil, deciding to make a run for it, was shot twice in the chest. The other four men had already thrown down their guns and were lying stretched out on the ground screaming, ‘Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!’
Two senior officers moved in, their faces impassive as they stared down at the dead bodies of the Davidson clan.
‘Well, at least it’s spared the country the expense of a trial,’ commented the elder officer. Then, barking out orders to his men, he and his fellow officer returned to the warmth of their car to await the arrival of the ambulances and the press.
* * *
In those first few seconds between sleep and awakening, Nobby licked his dry lips, turned over and promptly fell off the settee on to the floor. Still drowsy from the sleeping pills and whisky, he lay stupefied, his face a comical mixture of surprise and bewilderment. Then he remembered. With a loud oath he peered at his watch, his mouth falling open at the time displayed. Stumbling to his feet, he was about to run from the room when Aggie entered with a tray containing a mug of tea and a plate of spam and chips, the very smell of which made Nobby want to retch.
‘Afternoon, lad. I was beginning ter worry yer might have popped yer clogs yer slept that long, but I didn’t want ter disturb yer. There yer are, lad, get that down yer. You’ll feel a lot better with a hot meal inside of yer. Grace and Polly are both at work, Vi’s out shopping, an’ that other one has taken herself off somewhere, so we’ve got the place ter ourselves.’
Nobby slumped back on the settee, his mouth gaping wide. Then, in a voice only a little more than a whisper, he groaned, ‘Aggie! Oh, Aggie, yer don’t know what you’ve done. I don’t care what happens ter me, but you and the girls… I told yer, Aggie. I bloody well told yer…’
‘Yeah, yer did,’ Aggie replied cheerfully, putting the tray down on the coffee table in front of him. ‘And I told you I’d think of something ter get yer outta it, an’ I did… Look!’
Triumphantly she handed him the midday edition of The Standard. There, splashed all over the front page was a picture of the Davidsons, with the headline screaming, GANGLAND SHOOTING – THREE KILLED, FIVE POLICE OFFICERS INJURED IN SHOOT-OUT.
Wide awake now, Nobby hungrily devoured the rest of the story, and when he had finished he lay back, a look of total bemusement on his face, then he lifted his eyes to where Aggie was standing over him like a guardian angel and said hoarsely, ‘Dead! All of them. Dead! I can’t take it in. It was you, wasn’t it, Aggie? You tipped the coppers off, didn’t yer? Otherwise they’d never have known about—’
‘Yeah, it was me,’ Aggie interrupted sharply. ‘And I ain’t apologising fer it neither. ’Cos the way I saw it, it was either them or you, an’ that being the case, there was no contest.’
Shaking his head in disbelief, Nobby said, ‘You daft old cow. But I’m grateful ter you, Aggie, because I don’t think I could’ve gone through with it, not when the time came. Then it would’ve been me lying on a slab in the morgue with a bullet in me back. And it wouldn’t have been a police bullet that hit me either.’
Without thinking, Nobby began to eat the meal Aggie had prepared for him, talking between mouthfuls.
‘I’ll still have ter do time fer the first job I did with them, an’ I ain’t gonna wait ’til the law comes fer me. I’ll give meself up an’—’
‘What job?’ Aggie cut in, her eyes wide with feigned surprise.
After he had shovelled another forkful of food into his mouth, Nobby said wearily, ‘Now don’t start that lark, Aggie. You know fine well what I’m talking about.’
‘And who’s gonna tell the coppers about that, eh? The Davidsons are dead, remember! But if one of their mob does try an’ put the finger on yer, well then, it’ll be their word against ours. As a matter of fact I remember that night well, ’cos we was all out celebrating me birthday, weren’t we? Now who’s gonna take the word of a known villain against that of a decorated hero and a family of law-abiding citizens?’
The food on the plate suddenly appeared unappetising to Nobby, and he was having to swallow hard to keep down what he had eaten. How on earth could he have eaten at a time like this? He sat quietly, humbled to the very core of his being by the sheer enormity of what this proud woman had already done on his behalf, and what she was further prepared to do if need be.
Aggie, realising Nobby needed time to think, waited silently.
Then Nobby lifted his head and looked at Aggie through red-rimmed eyes and said almost angrily, ‘Aggie, I was in it up ter me neck. Oh, I didn’t do any of the dirty work, at least only that once, but I made a packet out of the Davidsons. I ain’t the decent bloke yer think I am. I’m a crook, Aggie, plain and simple. I want yer to know the truth before yer think about perjuring yourself on my behalf.’
Coming to sit beside him, Aggie put a fat comforting arm around his shoulders and pulled his head into her ample breasts as if he were a child in need of comfort.
‘You ain’t no crook, Nobby, love. Just a decent fellow trying ter get by as best yer could in hard times. You saved us from going short many a time – and plenty of others as well. All right, so what yer did was illegal, so what? There’s worse than you walking the streets. But listen, lad, I want yer to promise that after today you’ll have no more to do with the black market. I know it’ll be hard on yer, but there’s always a bed here for yer, and a plate of food, even if it is only tinned spam or tripe and onions. Yer won’t go hungry or be out of a home, not while you’ve got us.’
Nobby couldn’t raise his head to meet Aggie’s eyes. He had enough supplies stashed away to see him comfortably off for at least another couple of years. But he’d be careful. There’d be no more selling from underneath the stall to special customers – well, maybe to a few of his regulars. After all, a leopard couldn’t change his spots overnight, now could he? And he’d make sure Aggie and the family didn’t go short either. Once this ordeal was over, he’d be straight with Aggie and tell her about his secret hoard. He smiled at the thought, then felt a stab of alarm as he felt tears spring to his eyes.
Patting Aggie’s hand he attempted to rise, muttering shakily, ‘I’ve gotta go, Aggie. There’s things I gotta see to an…’
But Aggie pulled him back down, saying soothingly, ‘There’s no shame in crying, lad. Not even for a hero. So you let it all out, there’s no one here to see but me, and I won’t be telling anyone. Go on, lad, let it all go. You’re safe now. You’ll always be safe in this house.’
Nobby swallowed and cleared his throat and tried in vain to stem the rising flood of tears of relief. But it was no good. So, like a child, he laid his head on Aggie’s comforting breasts and let all his bottled-up emotions out.
Chapter Twenty-six
During the following week, the normally implacable Aggie was in a state of nervous strain, waiting for a knock on the door that would herald the arrival of the police and the subsequent arrest of her dear Nobby. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied, she would have noticed the unusual tension among the women of the house, but with other matters on her mind, the preparations Vi and Beryl were frantically making went unnoticed.
The convoy ship Vi and Beryl were due to sail on was set to leave port in two days, and while Beryl couldn’t wait to be gone, Vi was still having second thoughts. Not about seeing Chuck again – that she was deeply in love with the man she had no doubt – it was the sneaky way in which she was planning to leave that was racking her with guilt.
The last day at home was spent packing, with Vi’s nerves on edge at every sound in the house, fearing her nan would suddenly appear and discover what she was up to. Then it was the last ni
ght. Her cases packed, the house silent, Vi looked at the bedside clock. It was one o’clock. In four hours she would be gone, maybe never to return. Her eyes burnt through lack of sleep, but she couldn’t rest.
She moved slowly around the room, touching each item of furniture poignantly. Then, quietly, she went downstairs, wandering around the silent house, remembering all the times she had spent in these rooms during her lifetime. Finally coming to rest in the sitting room, she curled up on the settee, her eyes drawn to the old piano at the far side of the room. Making sure the blackout curtains were firmly closed, she switched on a lamp and stared at the piano. How many times had her dad sat there quietly playing some classical tune after a hard day’s work or initiated a knees-up after a night out at the club? She remembered, too, how she had never joined in the jollifications, thinking herself too grand for such common behaviour.
Tears of shame stung her eyes at the memory. Then another memory sprang to her mind, bringing a smile to her quivering lips. She had been about seventeen at the time, and they’d been having a bit of a party. As usual, she had stood in a corner, her eyes scornful, boredom oozing out of every pore in her adolescent body. Then Sam had passed the piano over to Hetty and advanced on the scowling teenager skulking in the corner. Vi could remember clearly the devilment in his eyes as he’d approached her. Then she was being twirled and flung this way and that; at one point her father had thrown her over his shoulder, revealing her knickers to the loud amusement of the onlookers. And that was before the jitterbug dance had ever been heard of! Oh, she had been mortified, fleeing to her room in a paroxysm of angry tears at being so humiliated. A short time later, Sam had come into her room and taken her in his arms, saying over and over again how sorry he was for upsetting her. But she had been in too much of a temper to accept his apologies. Before he had left the room he had looked at the weeping form on the bed and said softly, ‘Oh, my darling, I wouldn’t hurt you for the world, not intentionally. I love you, Vi. Always remember that, even when you’re hating me, like now, I love you, and always will.’