Baker's Dozen Page 5

  “Why didn’t I meet you first, a year ago?” Jimmy murmured. A year made such a difference.

  “Do you love her?” Kathleen had to know.

  “No. I thought I did once, but I never knew what love was before tonight.”

  “Why did you marry her?”

  “The baby was coming and she said he was mine.”

  “Can you bear to leave your child?”

  “Lizzie’s a better mother than she is a wife. We’ll send her money to look after him. She has a little of her own, so she won’t go short. She might have to give up having permanent waves for a while, that’s all." Jimmy grinned. There wasn’t enough money to buy him a winter coat, but Lizzie’d had to have her hair curled. "Little Jimmy hardly knows me. I’m always out at work.” As he said the words, Jimmy saw the baby’s face. He would miss the little scrap. He’d imagined them playing cricket when he was older, just like every other father. Now Little Jimmy would grow up without knowing him. For a moment Jimmy hesitated. The old life battled with the new, but the end of the contest was never in doubt.

  “Will you come away with me now, this evening?”

  “Yes.” He took her in his arms. All her life she would remember the sweetness of his first kiss.

  “What's the time?” Jimmy asked a little while later.

  Kathleen looked at her watch. “Almost nine o’clock.”

  “Too early to go for the boat. We’ll be missed and I need your father to pay me, so I can buy our tickets. I’ll have to sing again.”

  “You go back in. I’ll slip out and fetch a few things from home. What about you? Do you need anything?”

  “There’s nothing I value, but I don’t like the thought of you leaving me.”

  “Silly. I live around the corner. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  “You’ll hurry, won’t you?”

  “I will.”

  “We’ll have to leave by half eleven at the latest to catch the boat.”

  “The party will be breaking up then. I’ll get lost in the crowd and everyone will think I'm with someone else.”

  The house was dim and Kathleen did not bother to light the gas. She carried a candle from room to room, searching for the things that she could not bear to leave behind. Her own room first. Her mother’s picture and the rosary beads she had been given for her First Communion. How Father Stacey would frown when he found out. She giggled, picturing his face. A shopping bag, a few clothes, an unfinished piece of embroidery, her scissors, a book - “Gone with the Wind.” Then she sat down at the table, took out her pen and wrote a short note,

  Dadda,

  When you read this, I will have gone away. Tonight has been the happiest night of my life. Thank you for giving me such a wonderful party and enabling me to meet the man I love. Now I know how you felt about Mamma. If you love Cora half as much, both of you will be happy together. I’ll write again when I am settled.

  I love you,

  Kathleen.

  She propped up the envelope on the mantelpiece. The she slowly walked around her home. How strange to be seeing the old house for the last time by candlelight. Everything was so familiar, yet changed by the shadows. “Like me,” Kathleen thought, “I’m changed too.” She stood at the door of her parents’ room. She had been born in that bed and so had her sister. Her mother had died in it. The green coverlet was rumpled where her father had sat down to put on his socks. She would miss him and he would miss her, when he stopped being angry.

  She shuddered a little and hurried back into her own room to say goodbye. She had been so happy when her sister married and it became hers alone. She ran a hand over her bed. She would never sleep there again. She wouldn’t wash up at the kitchen sink or peel the potatoes. Someone else would clean those fiddly bits on the stairs. Would this new life be better than the old? Perhaps. She had been happy enough before her mother died, but she would have gone with Jimmy even if she had still been alive. Kathleen shut the door behind her for the last time. Her hand caressed the brass doorknob which she had polished ever since she was tall enough to reach. Cora could polish it now.

  The song finished. Jimmy held the last notes lingeringly. His eyes searched the crowd and widened in relief as Kathleen slipped into the room. Time started to race. Two more songs, a few bows, money jingling in his hand. He stood outside in the darkness while people streamed out of the pub around him.

  “Where’s she got to?” Jack Daley’s voice had an edge of anger. The blowsy woman, who had been sitting beside him, linked his arm.

  “She was with Susan last time I saw her. Probably gone off with them...”

  Their footsteps echoed and died away. He started to panic. Where was she? Perhaps she was not coming? For a short time he had been deliciously, deliriously happy. He did not think he could bear it if she did not come.

  Then a hand slipped into his and a soft voice said, “Are you ready?”

  “I am, are you?”

  “Take me away to fairyland.” Kathleen laughed and Jimmy bowed to her.

  “This way, my lady.”He picked up her case and led her down the street.

  The midnight boat left the landing stage and proceeded up the river. Behind them the lights of the city faded into the darkness. The ship turned in the channel, heading straight for the Bar Light. The night was peaceful and the waves lapped gently against the sides of the boat.

  Kathleen and Jimmy stood together on the stern, watching their old lives fade away behind them. They clung to each other, from time to time exchanging kisses. Kathleen pulled off her hat and let the wind tousle her long dark hair. She had never wanted to have it shingled. Her father always said that her hair was her greatest beauty and Jimmy seemed to think so too. He ran his hands through the strands and Kathleen laughed for sheer joy.

  After a while they found a seat out of the wind and cuddled up together. Kathleen was dozing against Jimmy’s shoulder when someone said,

  “Jimmy McNeil! What are you doing here?” The man wore a seaman’s navy jersey and cap.

  “Coming home, Charlie.” Jimmy got up shook the man’s hand.

  "Not before time. Glad you've come to your senses at last. And who's this?"

  “My girl, Kathleen," Jimmy said proudly. "She’s coming home with me and she’s never been to the island before.”

  “Well she won’t see anything from where you’re sitting. You come with me.”

  Kathleen stood on the upper deck looking out across the moonlit sea, as the island rose out of the dark waters calling them home.

  “Do you want another cup of tea, Mam? Mrs Kelly’s called and I’ve just put the kettle on.”

  The island and the dream faded into darkness. Kathleen returned to the stuffy parlour with Jimmy lying so still beside her. Eileen was peering around the door. Her eyes were red and puffy with weeping but she was trying hard to be brave and helpful, just like Ronnie. Kathleen pulled herself together. She had lived in her fairytale for a long time but now it had ended. She was richer than most women for she had memories which would never fade away. Now she must come back to reality. Time enough to dream and to remember, when no one could see her tears.

  “Yes, please. I’m just coming,” she answered.

  Everyday Terror

  It was a routine Friday morning when terror came into my life. Alice and I were alone in the Careers Office, paying Social Security Benefit. On the old oak desk before us, a tin box held almost £1,000 in cash. We had over 250 young people signing on. Nothing separated us from our clients. Screens were years in the future. In 1971, no one considered that we were at risk and neither did we. We were wrong.

  Most of our clients were harmless, although they would not thank me for saying so. But there were one or two who were evil. Certain families were notorious in the area, with very good reason. One family were the offspring of an American sailor and a Liverpool prostitute. Their eldest son was already in Walton Prison, serving time for Grievous Bodily Harm. Alvin and Peter, the two youngest, were unemployed an
d our clients.

  Everyone had lined up, chatting and laughing as they waited for their turn. We had paid about a dozen when the line went silent. I looked up from the claim unit I was working on, to see Alvin strutting to the head of the queue, carrying a shotgun. Oh my God. Suddenly, with no warning, I wondered if I would survive. I was twenty-five, newly married and very happy. Did I have time to dive into the foot well beneath my desk before he opened fire? I started to shake but I could not move. Terror held me rigid.

  Alice, who is so much braver than I, raised her hands and said, “Don’t shoot, Al. I’ll give you your £3.45.”

  Alvin swung the gun towards her. Then he suddenly grinned.

  “I’m selling the bloody thing, aren’t I?” he said and suddenly my life was given back to me.

  Don’t Mess With Meadowside!

  “What’s up, Glad?”

  “You’re all covered in mud.” The residents crowded round, expressing their concern in loud cries.

  “It’s those little fiends from the estate,” Gladys said, holding out the dripping skirts of her new spring coat. “They nearly ran into me again. I had to jump out of the way and I fell in the muddy puddle.”

  “That’s the third time they’ve nearly got one of us this month.”

  “You’re hobbling too.” Reg took her arm and led her to a seat.

  “I lost the heel of my shoe.”

  “Someone ought to do something about those little flamers,” Larry said.

  “Their parents won’t that’s for sure,” lamented Florrie.

  “Parents have no control over their children.”

  “Not like us, I would have got a good thrashing from my dad if I’d done half the things they get away with nowadays.”

  “Mine too. He’d have taken his belt to me.”

  “Why don’t you call the police, Glad, and report them?” Sid asked.

  “What would they do? They’d only talk to them and those kids don’t listen.” Gladys replied.

  “Someone’s going to be badly hurt one of these days. They ride on those bikes like maniacs.”

  “I wish I could put a spoke in their wheels, I really do!”

  “Why don’t we do it then?” All eyes swivelled to Fred.

  “What can we do? Don’t talk nonsense.”

  “You’re new here, Fred. You don’t know what they’re like.”

  “It doesn’t matter what they’re like,” Fred said forcefully. “If they need a lesson, why don’t we give them one?”

  “If only we could...” Dot sounded wistful.

  “We can.”

  “How?”

  “When I was in the SAS...”

  Gladys groaned. She saw some of the other residents rolling their eyes in frustration. Fred hadn’t been in Meadowside very long, but he had been there long enough to tell his stories over and over again. They were great the first time you heard them but it was hard to be polite after the seventh repetition. Here we go again, Gladys thought and switched off.

  “Oh! What a shame, your lovely coat.” Rose, one of the carers, came into the lounge and saw the wreckage. She helped Gladys take it off. “I’ll take it to the cleaners for you on my way home. You can’t possibly wear it like that.”

  “Oh would you? Thank you.”

  “I’ll bring you a nice cup of tea, to calm your nerves,” Rose offered.

  Gladys settled back in her favourite chair. Then she heard someone say,

  “...it might work.”

  “We can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “What are they talking about now?” she asked Florrie.

  “Fred’s just been telling us a way to get our own back on those little brats.”

  “Has he?”

  “Tell her, Fred.”

  So Fred described his plan over again for her benefit and everyone looked interested. Gladys saw the speculation in their eyes.

  “We’d never get away with it. None of us can walk fast, never mind run away.”

  Fred chortled. “We don’t need to run away, that’s the beauty of it. It’s one of the few good things about getting old. We can sit on park benches and watch it all happen and no one would suspect.”

  The residents looked at each other again and a certain degree of gleeful hope shone on every face.

  “I’m game,” Sid said.

  “Me too.” Larry was enthusiastic.

  “I’m sick of being pushed around...”

  “I think Fred’s got the right idea,” said Annie.

  “What about you, Stan? You’ve had trouble with them before.”

  “Count me in,” answered Stan.

  “Glad?”

  “Me? After today, I’m ready for anything. My beautiful yellow coat! I’ve only worn it twice and I’ll be lucky if it isn’t ruined with all the mud.”

  “That’s the lot of us then.” Fred looked around the group in the lounge.

  “What about the staff? They don’t like them either.”

  “We can do this ourselves. If we tell them, they’ll try to stop us or take over and do it all themselves.”

  “Too true!”

  “So this is what we’ll do...”

  Fred ran Exercise Retribution like a military operation. He had to be the leader, everyone agreed, because it was his idea. He had a reminiscent gleam in his eyes as he issued crisp orders. He felt just like he had used to do, so long ago, before the sniper’s bullet had put an end to his career. All the residents of Meadowside Residential Home seemed to have taken new heart. They walked taller, straightened their shoulders and smiled a lot. There was an excited buzz of conversation in the lounge and the corridors, whenever the carers weren’t around.

  Everyone had their part to play. Stan, Dot and Annie were assigned to reconnaissance. Sid was in charge of supply. Reg was logistics. Florrie wasn’t able to walk very far but, since she owned a vital piece of equipment, she said she wasn’t going to be left out. She’d start early and be in position before any of the others arrived. Larry and Ted, who were the most active of all the residents, were the Action Squad who would carry out the operation and Gladys had volunteered to set the trap. In fact she insisted on it and no one had the heart to deny her. Everything was set up. Now to put the plan into action.

  Every day, the reconnaissance squad went out, rain or shine. Several days later, Stan came back from scouting duty hugging himself with glee.

  “The worst one of the lot’s Darren,” he reported to the group. “He’s the tall one who has the flashy new mountain bike. He always comes the same way home from school, down the main road and through the park. I’ve watched him every day this week. He rides like a demon and speeds up if he sees someone he can scare, then he rides right at them. Doesn’t matter who they are, kids, mothers with prams or people like us.”

  “He’s the one who got me the other day,” said Gladys.

  “Any cover on the path he uses?” Fred asked.

  “Lots of bushes and enough shade to hide what we want to keep hidden,” replied Stan.

  “So it’s a go?” Fred asked, looking round the group. They were all eager.

  Stan nodded. “I say go!”

  “Dot? Annie?”

  “Go!”

  “Go!”

  “Sid, you’re supply. Ready to go?”

  “Got it, Fred.”

  “Reg?”

  “All planned out.”

  “Larry, Ted, Gladys?”

  “Just give us the word, Fred, we’re go,” said Larry and the others nodded their heads.”

  “Let’s get on with it.” Gladys rubbed her hands together. “The sooner the better.”

  Fred beamed and spread out his hands as if he would embrace them all. “Ladies and gentlemen, then the word is ‘go’. Tomorrow is the day we’ve all been waiting for. You all know what you have to do. Let’s go and do it. Good luck to you all.”

  That Friday was a nice warm spring day, just right for Operation Retribution. So the residents of Meado
wside prepared themselves for action, not without a few secret misgivings, but with a steely determination not to let their comrades down. Gladys put on her yellow coat, which had just come back from the cleaners with only a faint trace of staining on the hem. Florrie carefully stuffed her shopping bag on wheels with assorted items to deter any search, although Fred had assured her no one in their right mind would even think of searching someone like her. She hoped it was true.

  “Are you sure it’ll be all right?” Gladys asked Fred, as she left.

  “Nothing will happen to you or your coat, I promise,” Fred answered with a grin. “You look smashing. That coat’s like a red rag to a bull, they won’t be able to resist it.”

  Gladys nodded but she had her fingers firmly crossed.

  “Geronimo!”

  “Attagirl, Glad. Go get them.”

  A surprising number of Meadowside residents were out in the park on Friday afternoon. Reg and Gladys were sitting on one of the benches, enticingly near to the large muddy puddle. Reg didn’t actually need to be there but Glad didn’t want to wait alone in case her nerves got the better of her. Florrie was on the bench by the rose garden. She had her shopping bag with her and was gripping the handle more tightly than usual. Stan was at his relay post where he could see Fred standing by the park gates and where he could be seen by Gladys and Stan. Larry and Ted were already in their assigned places. Larry was trying not to worry for the success or failure of the plan rested firmly on their shoulders.

  Stan, Dot and Annie, who all had mobile phones and even knew how to use them, were on watch at strategic points. Stan was outside the school, Dot was on the main road and Annie stood at the corner where you had to turn to get to the park.