The Cuckoo Child (30 page)
Dick and Alan stared at their mother resentfully. ‘Dad’s not there – in the parlour, I mean,’ Dick said sulkily. ‘He went out, oh, ages ago. He sent Li round to Morris’s on Heyworth Street for eighteen penn’orth of chips and a couple o’ pieces o’ battered cod.’ He sighed reminiscently, licking his lips. ‘It were grand, to have fish ’n’ chips for us dinners. Our dad said he needed a decent meal to gerris courage up – he were real cross you’d gone out, Mam – and as soon as he ate all the grub and drunk a big mug o’ tea, he went off.’
‘Oh my Gawd,’ Aunt Myrtle said, dropping her head into her hands. ‘Don’t say he’s gone to the boozer!’
Little Alan, who had not spoken so far, trundled across the room and patted his mother’s hand consolingly. ‘He ain’t gone to the boozer. He said he were going to the rope works to see if he could get his bleedin’ job back, an’ then he were goin’ to the butcher’s, ’cos he said he felt well enough to work tonight if he took it slow an’ easy. So don’t cry, our Mam.’
Aunt Myrtle raised her head from her hands, blew her nose resoundingly on a piece of rag produced from her sleeve, and gave her youngest a trembly smile. ‘You’re a good little feller,’ she said huskily. She turned to Dot. ‘Get scrubbin’ them spuds, queen, while I find up something to go with ’em. Scrag’s all very well but it needs to be cooked for hours. Tell you what, Rupert lashed out at dinnertime so I’ll take some cash from the tea caddy on the mantel and when Sammy’s made up the fire he can go an’ buy some bacon and half a dozen eggs from the Co-op. Though why I should give the boys bacon and eggs when they’ve already fed their faces wi’ fish ’n’ chips, I can’t imagine,’ she ended, a trifle bitterly.
As soon as Sammy returned, he made up the fire, using the poker to lift the glowing coals so that a draught might hasten the process. Then he took the money his mother offered and set off. Dot, scrubbing potatoes at the sink, thought wistfully that it would be nice if her aunt always made the boys do their share, and though she said nothing Aunt Myrtle appeared to have divined her thoughts, for she said abruptly: ‘Me lads is gettin’ a taste of what’s to come, because when the twins is born they’re goin’ to take up all my time and almost all of yours, as well. That means the boys are going to have to change their ways, like it or not.’
Dot grinned but vouchsafed no reply, secretly doubting that her aunt would really make the boys do their share. But when she had scrubbed the last potato and peeled the last carrot, and put them all into the big iron pan, her aunt bade Lionel carry it over to the fire for her. ‘You’ve twice the strength of a girl, Lionel Brewster, and it’s time you learned to use it on something beside your own pleasure,’ she said, rather obscurely. ‘When the twins come . . .’
Lionel turned to stare at her. ‘Twins? What twins?’ he said aggressively. ‘You’re always talkin’ about having too many mouths to feed an’ now you’re takin’ in twins. Honest to God, Mam, have you gone mad?’
Aunt Myrtle’s eyes widened. ‘I am expectin’ twin babies,’ she said, speaking very slowly and clearly. ‘Surely you must have realised that, Lionel?’
It appeared that Lionel had not and nor had the other boys. ‘Twins! So that’s what our dad were on about,’ Lionel said. ‘I knew there were a baby comin’ because you’d gone so fat, but I didn’t know it were twins.’ He sighed deeply. ‘No wonder Dad’s takin’ to drinkin’ again. One baby’s bad enough, but two . . .’
‘That’s quite enough of that,’ Dot said briskly, terrified that her aunt would burst into tears once more. She got on quite well with Lionel, who was only a year older than herself, though he was both taller and broader. ‘Lay the table, will you, Li? Your mam’s going to need a good deal of help till she can use her leg again.’
Chapter TenNick had been delighted when he got back to his lodgings to find himself being introduced to Corky, though for some reason the lad had decided to use a different name: he was calling himself Kenny Johnson. Kenny was sufficiently like Corky for his young friend to answer when he was so addressed, though after such a considerable lapse of time, Nick privately thought the change to be unnecessary. The authorities would scarcely look for him in Liverpool anyway, since he had no connection with the city.
Usually, Nick avoided Mrs Cartwright’s evening meal, but tonight he and Corky had agreed to ‘eat in’, so to speak, in order that they might get to know one another officially. The meal was poor and plain, as usual – a meat and potato pie with only faint traces of meat and pastry so hard that you could have paved the street with it – but Corky gobbled his portion cheerfully, ate his share of the spotted potatoes and watery cabbage, and finished up with Mrs Cartwright’s rice pudding: a treat which Nick usually managed to avoid by claiming to be unable to eat another mouthful.
During the meal, which was shared with the Cartwrights and their other two lodgers, Mr Cartwright questioned Corky closely without getting very much satisfaction, though Corky did tell him that he was working for the Co-op on Heyworth Street as delivery boy and stockroom assistant. When Mr Cartwright questioned him further, however, he simply said he had only arrived in the city from London early that morning, and knew almost nothing about the area he would be covering. ‘But they’ve give me a plan what I’m to learn by heart, so’s I can deliver without making a muck of it,’ he said glibly. ‘I’ll be all right; I were a delivery boy in central London for two years, and there weren’t no complaints from me boss. When I telled him I wanted to come up north, he wrote me a grand reference, so I ’spect that’s how I got the job. I were in the Co-op in London too,’ he added.
Nick hoped his young friend was not over-egging the pudding, but the reply seemed to satisfy Mr Cartwright, though he looked rather suspiciously at Corky, saying belligerently: ‘How old is you, then? If you’ve been workin’ two years . . .’
‘Oh, I’m goin’ on sixteen, but I’m small for me age, like me dad,’ Corky said promptly. ‘Me dad’s only five foot two, but he’s rare powerful. He’s been all sorts, a seaman, a navvy . . .’
Nick saw Mr Cartwright’s mouth open and feared that he was about to ask why Corky should have left home to work in Liverpool since he had family in London, but at this point one of the lodgers broke in with a story about what had happened at his workplace that day and Nick pushed back his chair and got to his feet. ‘I’m off for a walk down to the docks. There’s a ship down there which only came in today. I like to chat to the seamen because they’ve always got a story or two to tell, and you never know . . .’ He turned to Corky. ‘Want to come along, Kenny?’
Corky agreed, and two minutes later the pair of them were walking briskly down towards the docks. ‘We’d better go and take a look at the shipping, since old Cartwright is so nosy – and so afraid of missing something – that he’ll likely follow us,’ Nick remarked. ‘But he won’t get near enough to hear what we’re saying so you might as well tell me: are you really working at the Co-op?’
‘I am, but only three days a week,’ Corky said. ‘As for stockroom assistant . . . well, I may be asked to help out in the stockroom but it’s not a permanent job, like. And since there’s no evening work, I’ll still be able to keep an eye on Rathbone’s. I tried for a job there too, but the old tartar wouldn’t give me the time of day.’
‘I’m hoping it won’t be necessary for very much longer,’ Nick said. ‘I may have to hire some sort of equipment to prevent the wall coming down when I start tunnelling underneath it, but if we can get the necklace we may be able to use it to lure Rathbone’s accomplice into the open. Or of course, we may see this Ollie for ourselves whilst we’re watching the premises after closing time.’
‘I’m not sure as I see why it’s so important to know this Ollie feller,’ Corky said, after a thoughtful pause. ‘After all, you and Emma both believe Dot’s story, and you know the necklace is where we say it is, so why shouldn’t someone else?’
‘Because we can’t prove anything as matters stand and because Ollie could be the brains behind the robberies, and not old Rathbone; he might be a person of considerable authority, someone whose word might be preferred to that of a stranger like myself, and a young girl like Emma, to say nothing of two kids. Why, even Mr Rathbone is a respected member of the Chamber of Trade. There are a great many people who are going to find it difficult to believe he’s a crook.’
Corky nodded. ‘I see what you mean,’ he said. ‘Then shouldn’t we be making our way to Heyworth Street right now? Oh, I haven’t told you, but I met Dot earlier . . .’
He told Dot’s story of her visit to the butcher’s yard, and Nick nodded. ‘I see; then if the door’s unlocked, we’ll know Rathbone’s expecting a visitor, and if it isn’t we can go home. And from what you say, Dot won’t be able to watch this evening, not if her aunt’s on crutches. So we’ll “skip a lecky” as they say in these parts and go and check on the gate right now. Since we don’t want to be seen together too much, I’ll hang around there for a bit, and you take yourself off back to Virgil Street.’
‘I think you ought to go and see Emma and let her know what’s been happening; see if anyone suspicious has been hanging round that antique place,’ Corky said. ‘I’ll go and try Rathbone’s back gate. Remember, now I’m workin’ at the Co-op, I’ll be up and down Heyworth Street and in and out the jiggers, and they won’t take no more notice of me than if I were a fly on the wall.’
Nick had been longing for an excuse to go back and see Emma again, and seized upon this suggestion eagerly. He and Corky walked to the nearest tram stop and he gave Corky his penny fare before striding off towards Church Street. He told himself, severely, that his desire to be with Emma had nothing to do with her pretty looks, nor even with her bright intelligence. No, it was because they were the only two adults involved in this affair and, as such, needed to talk occasionally without the youngsters being present.
He reached Church Street, more anxious than ever to see Emma once more.
Emma heard the bell and hurried downstairs. She opened the door cautiously and was delighted to see Nick’s friendly face beaming at her. He followed her up the stairs and into the kitchen, where she had been piling the dishes from her evening meal into the sink. Now, she told him to sit down and put the kettle on the stove. She was about to light the flame and to offer Nick a cup of tea when he spoke.
‘Look, Emma, we’ve got an awful lot to talk about but quite frankly, on such a hot evening, I’d rather do it in the open air. You see, Corky told me Dot made a discovery last evening which may make things easier. Is there a park round here or somewhere we might go and talk? Only you’ve been stuck in the shop all day and it can’t be good for you. I know you said you’d watch for anyone acting suspiciously, but you can’t spend your life peering out through the window. Anyway, once it’s dusk and the street lamps come on, a lurker would be too obvious.’
The wireless had been playing softly, but Emma turned it off at once and smiled at him. ‘I’d absolutely love to get away for an hour or two, if you think it’s all right,’ she admitted. ‘And what’s more, I’m on quite good terms with several of the constables on the beat. If one of the nice ones is on duty, I could just mention that I’d noticed someone acting suspiciously last night, hovering in the doorway of Venables’ toy shop.’ She frowned thoughtfully, then her face cleared. ‘Tell you what, why don’t we have a real outing? We could go to Prince’s Park on the tram and have a look at the aviary. There’s a café there where we can get a cup of tea, if it’s open, and it’s just like the country there, honest it is. Then you can tell me what’s been happening and we can get as much fresh air as you like because the park’s so huge.’
Nick agreed enthusiastically to this and presently the two of them were strolling along Church Street in the direction of the tram stop. Nick, highly daring, had just taken Emma’s arm when she suddenly broke away from him. ‘There’s Mr McNamara – Constable McNamara I mean – about to turn the corner ahead,’ she said rapidly. ‘I’ll just nip over and have a word. You go on; I’ll catch you up.’
Emma flitted ahead and caught Constable McNamara up without too much difficulty, for the policeman was moving ponderously. She began to tell him about the stranger in the doorway opposite her shop. The policeman listened to what she had to say, then nodded his large round head gravely, though with a lurking twinkle in his bright little eyes. ‘Don’t you worry yourself, Miss Grieves, I’ll keep an eye on anyone loitering near your premises,’ he said earnestly, giving her a fatherly smile as he spoke. ‘But I doubt if you’re in danger of being robbed again ’cos that ain’t the way the criminal mind works, by and large. And, you know, it’s not only lovers who lurk in doorways; policemen do as well. I weren’t on duty meself last night, but one of my colleagues might have been keeping an eye on someone and a doorway is easy to dodge into if you keep well to the back. You can see without being seen, if you understand me.’
Emma thanked the constable, bade him good night, and rejoined Nick, a trifle breathless but well satisfied with the encounter. She tucked her arm into Nick’s as they reached the tram stop. ‘That’s relieved my mind quite a lot,’ she said. ‘Mr McNamara assured me that he’d keep an eye on the shop, though he wasn’t particularly worried about the fellow in the doorway; actually said it might have been a policeman! Apparently, they dodge into doorways when they’re keeping an eye out for trouble, so we were probably anxious for no real reason. Now, if there is anything going on, anything planned I mean, then at least I’ve alerted the local scuffers. I’d hate to think of Mr Dibden being badly hurt, perhaps even killed, the way my grandfather was.’
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