by Pam Howes
Joanie had stayed behind to use an over-locker for a private job. She’d snuck upstairs to the unused second floor on that fateful night. Jack Carter had set fire to rags soaked with lighter fuel on the first floor and, thinking the place empty, locked her in, leaving the place ablaze. Joanie had been pregnant with their first child. She hadn’t stood a chance.
People often told Frank it was time he found another girl, but he was heartbroken. He knew that he’d never find another Joanie and nor did he want to. He’d dedicated his life since to looking after Dora the best he could and caring for Mam, and enjoying seeing his little nieces growing up.
He’d thought about moving abroad a few years ago, to America or Canada, but apart from filling in forms for a passport, he’d done nothing about it. Now Dora was living apart from Joe, and Mam was becoming frailer since the death of his dad, he felt it was his place to be here for them all. He sat on the perimeter wall and looked across to where the remains of the sandstone factory walls still lay. Most of the debris had been cleared away and it had been rumoured in the Echo a while back that houses were to be built on the site, but so far nothing had been confirmed.
Jack Carter and George Kane were arrested soon after the fire and both were now serving life sentences for arson, fraud and involuntary manslaughter. Frank hoped they’d both rot in jail for the pain they’d put him and his family through. Hanging would be too good for them, but they couldn’t be charged with murder as Carter hadn’t killed Joanie deliberately. His shock the following day when he’d found out she was missing in the burnt-out shell of the factory was genuine, and he’d not hesitated, once questioned, to confess all.
Frank felt an overwhelming sadness at his loss; life would never be the same again. He lit a cigarette as a bus drove up the lane and stopped on the opposite side of the road. The passengers alighted and a couple of women with shopping bags crossed over. One of them smiled at him, but the other looked like she was sucking a lemon. Frank smiled back, ignoring the miserable-looking woman. ‘Good morning, ladies.’
‘Good morning to you too, chuck,’ the pleasant woman answered. ‘Are you looking for something? Can I help you?’
‘I was just passing,’ Frank said. ‘Thought I’d stop here for a few minutes. Memories, you know.’
‘Yes, very sad what happened to the old place. I used to work here years ago, before the war. I packed it in when the babbies came along.’
Frank nodded and took a deep drag on his ciggie. He blew a cloud of smoke above his head. ‘My wife worked here too, and my sister.’
The woman nodded and turned to her miserable friend, who was sighing loudly and swapping her bag from hand to hand. ‘Go home, Beryl, and put the kettle on. I’ll join you in a minute or two.’ She rolled her eyes as Beryl shuffled off up the lane. ‘She’s been a right misery all morning. Had stuff pinched from her kitchen earlier, so we’ve had to go into town to do some extra shopping that she wasn’t planning on. But she’d nothing in for tea – it had all gone.’
Frank raised his eyebrows. ‘We’ve had stuff go missing from our house too and so have a lot of our neighbours. I only live up the road on Sugar Lane. Actually, apart from a bit of reminiscing, the reason I’m down this way is to ask around if anyone has seen anything or knows who the thief might be. I mean, it’s a bit odd that all they steal is food. Yesterday my mam was knocked unconscious in our kitchen and two pies were stolen. When it was just a bit of food disappearing it seemed almost like a sketch in a comedy film, but when people get hurt, it stops being something to joke about.’
‘Get away! And is she okay, your mam?’
‘She’s still in hospital, had stitches in a head wound. She’s trying to remember what happened but she’s still a bit foggy. She’s certain someone was standing behind her though, and then that’s it.’
‘Well, I never.’ She looked closely at Frank and sighed. ‘Aren’t you Mary Evans’ lad? Lost your wife in that dreadful fire?’
Frank swallowed hard and nodded that he was.
The woman touched his arm. ‘I’m so sorry, son. Tell you what, leave your bike here and come down to Beryl’s with me and have a cuppa. Wait till I tell her about your mam. I hope Mary’s going to be okay. Beryl had a lucky escape there. She was down the carsey when she was robbed. I’m Joyce, by the way.’
‘Frank,’ he said, and followed her the few yards up the lane.
‘Wait until you hear this young man’s tale, Beryl,’ Joyce began as they let themselves in at the back gate. Beryl had taken off her coat and was sitting on an old wooden bench in the garden.
‘Kettle’s on,’ Beryl said, looking Frank up and down. She managed a half-smile and got one back.
Joyce sat beside her on the bench and told Beryl the tale Frank had just told her. ‘His poor mam. You were lucky you’d gone down the carsey. Florrie over the road had her pan of scouse pinched a few days ago.’
Frank tried to keep a straight face. It was all so bizarre. ‘I know. The police told me.’
‘Police? Are they involved now, then?’ Joyce asked.
‘’Fraid so. Well after Mam was found on the kitchen floor we had to report it. Can I ask you something, ladies? It might sound a bit odd, but no odder than what’s already going on.’
‘Ask away. Let me just go and make the tea first. I’m spitting feathers.’ Joyce got to her feet. She was soon back outside with a tray and three mugs of tea. She rummaged in her shopping bag and produced a packet of Gypsy Creams. ‘Now help yourself,’ she said, opening the packet.
Frank took a swig of tea and then asked if either of them had seen a woman in a long black coat wandering around.
Beryl’s eyes lit up and she almost choked on her Gypsy Cream. ‘I have,’ she said. ‘Don’t you remember, Joyce, last Friday when we were coming back on the bus from Paddy’s market? A woman wearing a black coat stepped out in the road and the driver had to bip his horn proper loud.’
‘Oh yes,’ Joyce said. ‘We thought she must be deaf or a bit simple in that she didn’t notice the bus was almost on top of her.’
‘Where was this?’ Frank asked.
‘Down the bottom of the lane. Just before our stop opposite the factory. Don’t know where she went from there. We looked down as we got off the bus but she’d vanished. God knows where, there’s no houses down that end of the lane.’
‘Well there’s the farm, but she’s not from there, because we know the farmer’s wife and it wasn’t her.’
Frank chewed his lip. ‘Thanks for that. Might be useful, I’ll let the police know.’
He finished his tea and got to his feet. Joyce saw him to the lane. She gave his arm a gentle rub.
‘Hope your mam is better soon. And I’m so sorry about your young wife. It must have been a dreadful time for you all. Take care and let us know what happens.’
‘Here’s Uncle Frank,’ Dora said as her brother pulled up outside Agnes’s house. ‘Put your sandals back on, Jackie, there’s a good girl. Thanks for having her, Agnes, and for letting me use your phone to ring work.’
‘You’re welcome. Any time. Now keep me up to speed with what’s going on. Give your mam my love when you see her later. You can drop Jackie in any time that you need help.’ Agnes gave Dora a hug and patted Jackie on the head. ‘See you soon, sweetheart. And keep doing your dancing and singing. We loved it. She’s kept us entertained,’ she said to Dora. ‘I’ll have to enrol our Patsy in the dancing school at some point.’
Frank helped her with the bags and settled Jackie on the back seat.
‘Did you get any joy from the neighbours?’ Dora asked as they set off for Wright Street.
Frank told her about his encounter with the two ladies on Old Mill Lane.
‘Oh, Frank, it must have been hard going back there. That was brave of you. I know you don’t like to be reminded.’
‘Actually, I feel better for doing it,’ he said. ‘A bit easier in my mind. And it could be that your black-coated woman and the pie thief might be one and t
he same. She certainly gets about in the areas where the food keeps going missing. I’ll let the scuffers know and they can work it out for themselves.’
13
After a quick sarnie and mug of tea, Dora hurried up Homer Street towards Samuel Jacobs’. Frank had taken Jackie down to the docks. He needed to speak to his boss about taking a few days off and he’d promised his niece an ice-cream from Stan’s café if she was a good girl. Dora was going to pick up some work she could do at home. A couple of costumes for a show at the Empire needed finishing and delivering, which she could do while she was off, and she would take Jackie to the theatre with her. She’d enjoy that, especially if there was a rehearsal for the show, which was a musical review.
Since Jackie had started her Saturday morning dance classes at Marjorie Barker’s dancing school, Dora had been surprised by the way she sang in tune to most songs she heard, especially her favourite Shirley Temple songs. She picked up the words without a problem and remembered them, and her tap dancing skills were coming on a treat. She wasn’t as keen on the ballet class as it meant being serious and Jackie was a giggler, but she was persevering. Dora felt proud of her girl. Maybe she had her own little star in the making.
‘Dora, it’s good to see you,’ Esther greeted her from behind the counter. ‘How is your mother, my dear?’
Dora smiled. ‘She was doing okay when I rang the hospital this morning from my friend’s. My brother and I are going to visit again tonight and then hopefully they may let her home in a day or two.’
‘Well, it’s very kind of you to offer to do some work at home for us. It will help us out so much. And then, if you can manage it, will you take the outfits to the Empire for us? Just check they fit okay before you leave.’
Dora nodded as Sammy appeared, his beard covered in bits of thread as usual, and placed a large bag on the counter. He rummaged in the boxes on the shelves and put some beads, white lace and velvet ribbon into a small paper bag, then popped the bag into the larger one. ‘That should do it,’ he said. ‘The instructions about what goes where are inside the big bag with the outfits. How is the wedding dress coming along?’
‘It’s lovely,’ Dora said, ‘though I say it myself. Once I’ve got the theatre costumes out of the way I’ll get the wedding dress finished and bring it in to fit on the model while I turn up the hem. I’ve made it to my size and it fits really well.’
‘And how is your mother?’
‘I was just telling Esther, we’re hoping they’ll let her come home very soon. Not too much damage done. Just a few stitches and mild concussion. She was very lucky, though we’re still trying to find out who’s responsible. I’ll definitely be in work on Wednesday. My brother is going to look after my daughter for me. I don’t want to let you down.’
‘Dora, you’re not letting us down. Family must come first. And that was a nasty thing to happen to your mother. I hope you get to the bottom of how it happened soon. Don’t worry if you can’t make it in on Wednesday. It’s a big help to me that you’re taking the outfits to the Empire.’ Sammy went to the till and took out some coins. He handed them to Dora. ‘Make sure you get a taxi to the theatre.’
‘Thank you. But I’m sure my brother will take me in the car.’
‘Well, just in case he can’t, you keep it for the fare. And we’ll see you soon. Now are you sure you can manage the bag? It’s quite heavy.’
Dora lifted it down. ‘It’s fine, and I haven’t got far to go. Thank you. See you soon.’ She walked towards the door as Esther, who had disappeared into the small kitchen area, reappeared with a tin.
‘Take this for when your mother is allowed home. It’s just a cake and a few biscuits.’ She wrapped the tin in some brown paper from under the counter.
Dora opened the outfits’ bag and Esther sat the tin on top. She gave Dora a hug and opened the door for her.
‘Goodbye and thank you,’ Dora said. ‘You are both so good to me.’
‘Will you stay here with us tonight, Frank? You’ve got to bring me back from Fazakerley, so you might as well. We can pop into Mam’s and make sure everything is okay before we come back over here.’
‘Yes, I’ll stay,’ Frank said, taking the empty plates into the kitchen and putting them on the drainer. He’d brought some fresh plaice back from the fish shop at the docks and Dora had made chips to go with it. Even Jackie had tucked in, enjoying a rare treat mid-week. Fish was usually a Friday tea from the chippy. ‘I’ll sleep on the sofa in the front room. Have you got any spare blankets?’
‘Not really. We’ll have to grab a couple from Mam’s and you’ll need a pillow as well. Right, come on, Jackie, let’s get your nighty on, then I’ll take you over to Aunty Sadie’s for a couple of hours. Be a good girl, because Sadie has a lot to do at night. Just sit and be quiet with your book. We won’t be long.’
As Dora hurried back from Sadie’s, Gloria Smyth, standing on her doorstep, called out, ‘Got yerself another fella, gel?’
‘He’s my brother, actually,’ Dora replied.
‘Ooh get youse, actually,’ Gloria mimicked, flicking ash onto the pavement from her ciggie. ‘Who do yer think you are, the bloody queen?’
Dora ignored her and slammed the door as she went indoors.
‘What’s up? You look a bit narked,’ Frank said, putting on his jacket. ‘I’ve boiled a kettle and put the plates in to soak in the sink.’
‘Thanks, Frank, you’re a good one. It’s that bloody woman across. Gobby cow that she is. Thinks you’re my fancy man. She was the same with Joe the other week. He knows her and her sister from the clubs. Right pair of tramps according to him.’
Frank grinned and rooted in his jacket pocket for his car key. ‘Right, let’s go and see Mam.’
Mam was awake, a bit of colour in her cheeks tonight. She seemed glad to see them and smiled as Frank produced the little bottle of cologne from Maisie. ‘Tell her thanks, love.’
‘I will. How are you feeling?’
‘A bit washed out, but I’m all right.’ She gestured a hand at her surroundings. ‘Be glad to get out of here. Oh, they’re nice enough and it’s very clean, but there are some right miserable beggars around. You can’t have a bit of a laugh and joke. The police came today and Sister pulled the curtains around my bed while they asked me a few questions. They made me laugh out loud. Then all eyes were on them as they left and then all on me afterwards. This lot think I’ve done something wrong, I’ll bet. They haven’t said, but I can tell.’
Dora laughed. The ward was neat and tidy, the pink and white striped curtains pulled back from around the beds in a precise manner with matching cotton counterpanes on each bed. The elderly occupants, white- or grey-haired ladies, attired in their best nighties, like Mam. But not one smile. Too prim for their own good, a bit like her ex mother-in-law in fact. For a fleeting moment she wondered how Joe was getting along with Ivy and Carol in Morecambe, and then pushed the thought away. ‘We’ll speak to Sister before we leave,’ Dora said. ‘She might be able to tell us when you can come home.’
Mam nodded. ‘I’ll be glad to get back in my own bed.’
‘Could you tell the policemen anything you couldn’t tell us yesterday, Mam? Has anything come back to you?’
Mam chewed her lip. ‘Yes, but I’m wondering if I imagined it. There was a smell. Like an unclean sort of smell. I know that I’ve smelt it before and I can’t think where. But I’ll tell you this: whoever came into my house was a dirty beggar. I told the police and they wrote it all down.’
Dora stiffened and caught Frank’s eye. At the street party Mam had mentioned that the woman in the black coat had a bad smell about her. ‘She’s got a bit of an unwashed pong when you stand downwind of her.’ Those were the words she’d used that day. She’d tell Frank when they were outside. But if it was that strange woman who’d hurt her mam, why had she done it? And more to the point, who on earth was she?
The bell sounded for end of visiting and Dora and Frank made their way to Sister Ashton’
s office. She’d been watching out for them and waved them inside, gesturing for them to take a seat.
‘I’m pleased to report that your mother is showing great signs of improvement,’ she began. ‘The police popped in earlier and took a short statement and they asked me to let you know that they’d like you to call in to the station at your earliest convenience. Now, with regards to your mother’s discharge, we’re thinking maybe Thursday. She might appear lively tonight, but she’s been sleeping a lot off and on and that’s a good thing. She’s resting. We’ll get her up tomorrow and sit her in a chair and then on Wednesday we’ll get her walking up and down the ward at intervals. All being well, we’ll let you know at Wednesday night visiting if you can take her home on Thursday. How does that sound?’
Dora breathed a sigh of relief. ‘That sounds just fine. I’ll get everything ready and we’ll make sure she rests. What about her stitches? Who’ll take those out?’
‘Your own doctor or a district nurse. We’ll let you have that information when she leaves here. It will all be done in her own home.’
14
‘So, you can definitely identify them as your mother’s?’ The police officer held up two plates with the remains of pie crust around the edges.
‘Definitely,’ Dora replied. The enamel plates had been in the family as long as she could remember. Mam always made her pies in them. The plates were white with a dark blue rim that was chipped in places. ‘Where did you find them?’