Untitled Josephine Cox 4

by Josephine Cox

  Without a doubt Ronnie would confront her husband, and Mike would no doubt retaliate violently, as he always did when rattled, which was often.

  And so, for that reason alone she must keep her silence for at least a while longer.

  Her voice trembled, as she chided herself, ‘Oh, Ronnie … I am such a coward! I wish I had the strength to tell you the truth … to ask for your help and find a way to escape this prison of a house, and get far away as fast as I can, from the monster I foolishly married!’

  With a deep sigh, she turned around, when in that crazy moment she told herself that she should be running after her brother … pleading with him to take her along, to wherever he might be going.

  Now she had no choice but to hurry back inside, before Mike came out, ranting and raving. She took a deep breath, and turned away from the street, while holding in her heart the image of her brother’s loving smile as he waved to her.

  On entering the house, she softly closed the door behind her, and made her way along the corridor to the sitting room, where Mike was knocking back a generous glass of whisky.

  From the dark scowl on his face Beth realised with a sinking heart that he was not in the best of moods. ‘Oh, you’re back, are you?’ he snapped at her. ‘I can see now that you’d rather spend time with your brother than be with your husband. Well, I don’t want him in my house ever again, d’you hear?’

  When she was slow to answer, he began pacing back and forth, faster and faster, muttering under his breath. ‘That cocky brother of yours has got a damned cheek coming here again expecting us to put him up. I’ve told you before, I have no time for the likes of him.’ He stopped pacing to glower at her. ‘Did you hear what I said?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And what were the two of you whispering about outside, eh? I hope you weren’t talking about me behind my back, were you?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘I’m about to ask you and you had best give me a truthful answer because I won’t like it if you lie to me. No, I won’t like it at all!’ Beth did not reply because she did not know what he wanted from her. For what seemed an age she waited for him to ask his question, but he remained silent, which unnerved her especially as she could see from the bottle that he had drunk a lot of whisky. He was angry, and when he was both drunk and angry he was like a madman.

  Fearing his temper, she gave a small, nervous smile. ‘Please, don’t drink any more whisky, sweetheart,’ she pleaded with him.

  ‘Don’t tell me what to do! So, what were you and that brother of yours talking about just now outside?’

  ‘We were just saying goodbye, that’s all.’

  ‘You had better be telling me the truth!’

  When he now took a menacing step forward, Beth recognised he was in one of his dark moods, and she instinctively inched away.

  Enraged at her silence, Mike began ranting. ‘Huh! Took you long enough to say goodbye, didn’t it? Forgot your husband was waiting inside, did you? Rather be with your precious brother instead of spending time with your husband – the man who clothes and feeds you, and puts a roof over your head – something that your precious brother would probably never be able to do!’

  His rampage made her nervous.

  ‘So, tell me then! Why did you linger outside with him instead of getting back in here to spend time with me, your husband, who by the way, is not impressed at your behaviour. Not impressed at all!’

  He sauntered unsteadily towards her. Recognising the look in his eye as he approached, Beth felt threatened. As always, he went straight for her. Grabbing handfuls of her long thick hair with his strong hands. He ignored her cries and forced her up the stairs and onto the bed, where he climbed on top of her.

  As always, he also ignored her pitiful pleas for him to let her go.

  He loved her, and he hated her at the same time. To the sound of her cries for him to stop, he took her when and how he wanted. He was never gentle, nor loving, and not once did he think of her fear or pain.

  To Beth at such moments, he was the devil in disguise, a monster gone mad. And when it was over, he simply walked away, satisfied and smiling wickedly.

  She was too afraid and too weak to fight him, and she would never dare betray him, or reject him.

  She knew him well enough to fear the consequences if she did.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  RONNIE WAS FAST losing hope. It was two days later and he’d had no success in finding a job. The problem at first was that he was on foot and so his options were limited. He’d found a very cheap bed-and-breakfast place to stay but he soon exhausted all the possibilities of employment as far as he could go in every direction.

  He risked a bus fare and went further afield, towards Manchester. Sometimes he spoke to the boss, sometimes he met workers coming off shift, but at every place he was told there was nothing for him.

  There was one office job at a print works, but Ronnie had no skills for that and was turned down flat when the manager enquired as to his education. At another place, a clothing factory, he thought there was a real chance of some work, but he hung around for over two hours and then was told that the job had gone to someone already known to the boss.

  His hopes were raised at a canning factory, where there was a vacancy on the production line, but as he waited outside the office above the factory floor to see if he was to be taken on, he overheard an argument between a shop steward and the manager, and it was plain that the factory was a hotbed of dissent and strikes were commonplace. Ronnie knew he would never be able to save up for a home for Cathy if his pay was continually docked because he’d been called out on strike so he upped and left without being interviewed.

  There was nothing for it but to move on and keep trying. Shouldering his bag again, he set off on foot. The scenery grew more rural as he traipsed further north. He held out hope of maybe finding a job on a farm, inexperienced though he was at that kind of work.

  Feeling bone weary, he decided to take a quick break to catch his breath and think things through before making any rash decision, but he needed to get away from the main road where there was no footpath on which to stop safely. He glanced about and was relieved when he spied a turning not too far away. It seemed to be a lane of sorts, cutting away from the major road, and partially hidden amongst a chaotic mess of what looked like a natural growth of bracken and trees.

  He made for that, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he would find a mobile snack bar, or a café. His throat felt parched and his whole body was aching from tip to toe.

  After only a few steps into the narrow lane, he was relieved to find a rickety snack-wagon, a shack of a café, tucked away in a sheltered spot, yet set forward just enough to catch the eye. The trees either side had been stripped of their branches where the passing traffic had squeezed by, trimming and slicing the overhanging boughs and creating a kind of archway and a clear path for incoming and outgoing vehicles.

  Eventually over time, the volume of traffic had created a deep, wide area in which to park. Ronnie saw that there were four parked vehicles: two cars, a big white van, and a lorry loaded with huge wooden crates.

  Ronnie found himself a small, level corner beside the parked van to put down his knapsack. Thankfully, the area was clean underfoot.

  For the first time in many a long hour, he began to unwind. Lazily stretching his weary arms above his head he felt a surge of contentment and, as always, he took a moment to think of Cathy. He missed her like crazy. When trekking his way along the highways and byways, he had felt so lonely without her.

  Behind him, the constant drone of traffic noise along the main road could still be heard, but the heavy overhanging tree branches and wild growth all around reduced the noise

  He gave a great, weary sigh. Here, at least, he would be able to think straight. He had to get himself together, rework his plans, and consider what to do now.

  The thought of trudging along that road again was a troubling one. ‘Like it or not, I have to push on,’ he m
umbled. ‘The thing is, do I carry on in the same direction, or do I call defeat and find my way back to Cathy?’ That particular option had its appeal, but also made him feel like a failure.

  Either way, he reminded himself, there was no time to waste. The dark would be closing in soon and he hadn’t arranged anywhere to stay yet.

  He decided to continue on his chosen journey north. He thought it wiser to see it through, whatever the consequences. If he had not found work within a few days, he would still have the option to turn around and make his way back south to his beloved Cathy.

  Thinking of her, he decided to find a phone box and call her up the minute he got the chance. He would ask her opinion as to whether to head back south as soon as possible … or to persevere up north, at least for a week or so.

  After all, he had only ever embarked on this journey to secure a life for the two of them together. The very thought of living a life with Cathy by his side, building a family and making a home together was all he had wanted, from the moment he had first set eyes on her.

  Ronnie ached in every bone of his body. His shoulders had gone numb from the weight of the heavy knapsack, and his feet were hot and sore, as was the inside of his throat. The man at the food-van appeared to be packing up, so Ronnie decided he’d better get over there to see if there was any chance of a drink and maybe a sandwich.

  ‘Hey, young man!’

  Ronnie was just fumbling in his knapsack for some money when he heard someone calling.

  ‘Hey! Are you deaf or what?’ The person shouting was a mountainous lump of a man, but with a kindly face beneath a mess of thick, black hair, which was tied in a raggedy pigtail with a piece of bright pink twisted cord.

  He sauntered over to Ronnie, who belatedly realised that the man was talking to him.

  ‘I’m sorry … I didn’t realise you were calling to me,’ said Ronnie, standing up.

  ‘That’s all right.’ The man towered over Ronnie, his great, tattooed arms folded like two massive sausages across his chest. ‘I’ve brought you a message from Charlie, the van man over there.’ He gestured impatiently to the skinny fellow at the food wagon. ‘He’s about to shut shop and bugger off and he asked me to tell you that if you want a sandwich or a drink you’d best get it now, or what you’ll get is nowt at all! And that’s what he asked me to say to you!’

  His message delivered, he turned about and strode off without another word.

  Ronnie began to panic, unsure if he’d find his money in time. ‘Thanks a lot! I’ll just find some money. Could you please tell him yes, I’ll have a cold drink and a bacon sandwich?’ Grabbing his knapsack, he began turning out the contents.

  ‘You cheeky little sod! I’m not your servant. You can tell him yourself,’ the big fellow shouted gruffly. He sauntered off to the little blue hut down the lane, which was the lay-by lavatory.

  Meantime, Ronnie hurriedly rifled through the jumbled mess from his knapsack, and, thankfully, his little swag of change fell out.

  The waifish snack-wagon man was now yelling at Ronnie, ‘What the hell are you doing, lad? Shift yourself. I’ve got your order ready, and now I need to be away! You might not have a home to go to but I have, and I’ve got a wife who takes no prisoners. So get yourself over here now.’

  Without further ado, Ronnie went at the run to collect his snack, which turned out to be a thick, heavily buttered cheese sandwich, and a cracked cup filled to the brim with lukewarm tea, as strong and thick as Ronnie had ever tasted.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I asked for a bacon butty,’ he meekly informed the sour-faced man.

  ‘Oh, did you now?’ The man was not best pleased. ‘Well, hard luck, ’cos I ain’t got no bacon left. It’s a cheese sandwich or nothing! Make up your mind, lad! Come on, drink the tea. I need the cup, then I’ll be on my way!’ He held out his hand. ‘That’ll be two and six. Come on! Like I said, I’m in a hurry to get away.’

  Ronnie was disappointed because he had really been looking forward to a bacon sandwich. But at the same time, he had to smile at how down-to-earth and straight-talking these Northerners could be.

  He quickly swigged his drink, paid his scant bill, and returned the cracked cup. ‘Thanks a lot.’ He felt better for the drink, despite it not being very hot. ‘I really needed that.’

  ‘Ah, lad, don’t even mention it! You’re very welcome, I’m sure! Although I’m sorry that all the bacon was quickly gone this morning.’ The man continued tidying away. ‘You look absolutely clapped out, lad!’ He noted the dust-covered boots, and the tired lines on Ronnie’s face. ‘Been travelling long, have you?’

  Ronnie nodded. ‘You could say that, yes.’

  ‘Where are you off to then?’

  ‘I’m headed north, have been walking and hitching for miles, looking for work and a place to stay. To tell you the truth, I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve made a mistake coming this far. Maybe I should turn round and head back home. The thing is, though, I’ve not had any luck back there either and, to be honest, I’m getting a bit desperate.’

  ‘Oh aye, we all get like that at times. There’s nobody but yourself who can make such an important decision. But it seems a shame for you to have come all this way for nowt. If it were my choice, I’d carry on in the same direction. It sounds to me like you’ve got nothing to lose. What is it they say – nothing ventured, nothing gained?’

  He had more fatherly advice for Ronnie. ‘Give it your best shot, lad. Do whatever your heart tells you to. If it doesn’t work out, then you can still turn round and head back to where you came from, but if it were me, I’d carry on. You’re already here now, so keep going, persevere, and you never know, you might find what you’re looking for.’

  ‘You might well be right.’ Ronnie thought the older man spoke sense, and being tired and worn from his journey, he was glad of the sound advice.

  ‘I am right, lad! I’ve lived a bit longer than you, young fella, and I reckon I know what I’m talking about. If you look hard enough, there’s always work about.’

  Returning from the blue hut, and having caught the end of the conversation, the big man also offered an opinion. In Ronnie, he recognised a decent young man trying to make his way in the world. ‘He’s right, son. If you want my own advice, you’ll forget about turning back and stick to the route you’re on. You’ve come too far to turn round now. It would be a waste of energy and valuable time.’

  The snack-wagon owner now chipped in again. ‘That’s good advice, lad, from two men who’ve been about a bit.’ He carried on packing up and when he had finished hooking the wagon to the back of his van, he bade the other two a good day and a safe journey. The big man bade him cheerio.

  ‘I should have been long gone by now,’ the little fellow grumbled, manoeuvring the van forward. ‘Good luck, young’un!’ He waved a cheerio to Ronnie and then was off, down the lane and away.

  The big fellow turned his attention on Ronnie. ‘So! I heard you talking to matey there, and from what I understand, you’re looking for work and not afraid of getting your hands dirty, is that right, lad?’

  ‘Yes. That’s true,’ Ronnie answered.

  The big man gave Ronnie the once-over. ‘I must say you seem well put together. I mean, you certainly don’t look like a lazy lad to me, so why was it that you couldn’t find work in your own area?’

  Ronnie hunched his shoulders. ‘That’s exactly what I’ve been asking myself. I think it’s bad luck as well as the economy. There just doesn’t seem to be anything for me, though I’ve tried loads of places.’

  ‘Try not to get too down-hearted, son.’ The big fellow again looked Ronnie up and down, watching him wolf down his cheese sandwich as if he hadn’t eaten in days. It reminded him of himself in harder times. ‘Like I said … you appear to be a strong and able lad. And unlike a lot o’ lads your age, you seem to have a brain in that head of yours. I reckon you’ve done well having got as far as here on Shanks’ pony. Moreover you seem to have the appetite, the build and the heart to ta
ckle any kind of work.’

  Ronnie thanked him. ‘Well, yes, you’re right. I’m fit and I’m willing, and what I don’t know I’m always ready to learn. I’ll take whatever work I can get. Any sort of work – dirty work, heavy work – it won’t bother me, as long as I get paid.’ He thought of Cathy and, in that moment, his loneliness was overwhelming.

  ‘Hmm!’ The big man sensed Ronnie was unhappy. ‘Tell me the truth, lad, are you in trouble of any kind? Is that why you’re running away?’

  ‘No!’ Ronnie was shocked. ‘I’m not running away. I’ve left people behind who love me – family and friends, and my Cathy. She’s the reason I’m doing this. You see, I want us to get married as soon as we have enough money. We’ll need a place of our own. And that’s why I want the work.’

  ‘I see.’ The big man applauded the fact that Ronnie had tackled a long and hard journey. ‘So, you’ve left your girl behind in order to earn enough money to go back and get married? Well, I never! She must be someone very special.’

  Ronnie gave a sorry little smile. ‘Yes, she is.’

  The big man took further stock of this determined young fellow. ‘Right then …’ He began walking away. ‘You’d best pick up your bits and pieces, ’cos I’ll be off any minute, once I’ve checked the ropes to make sure they’re still tight. I’ve a lot of good stuff under that tarpaulin, it’s worth a bob or two and a bit more besides if I can squeeze it out of that tight-fisted bugger I have to deal with.’

  Ronnie felt sad to see him walk away. ‘Thanks for your advice,’ he called out with a wave. ‘It was nice to meet you.’ In that desolate moment, he felt incredibly lonely.

  ‘Hey!’ The big man stopped in his stride. ‘What the devil’s wrong with you, lad? Move yourself. Get your bony arse in the wagon or I might be tempted to go without you.’

  ‘What?’ Ronnie was shocked and so excited he dropped his knapsack twice as he ran to the lorry. Then he dropped it again as he climbed up the high step.