MB08 - I’ll Be Your Sweetheart Page 17

  ‘You certainly hit the nail on the head, Molly, for that is exactly what Nellie is about. She’s entertained us for years, and can you imagine one of our parties without her?’

  Ruthie had finished washing the dishes and they were stacked neatly on the shelf. She glanced around to make sure there was nothing she’d overlooked, then, after satisfying herself, she made her way into the living room. ‘Hello, Uncle Corker.’ She gave him a kiss and wrinkled her nose when his moustache tickled her cheeks. ‘I love my Auntie Nellie, she is the funniest person I know, and she always makes me laugh. But she wouldn’t be as funny without me mam. Where me mam is the straight one, Auntie Nellie is the comic, and they both need each other.’

  ‘I couldn’t have put it better meself, darlin’. Yer have a very astute mind for your age.’

  ‘Oh, I listen carefully, Uncle Corker, and I tell Bella everything. Yer see, me and her are going to be like me mam and Auntie Nellie when we’re older. We often practise in Bella’s bedroom and I think we’re very good.’

  Molly and Jack looked at each other in astonishment. ‘That’s the first I’ve heard of this. I can’t imagine Bella doing a turn, she’s far too shy.’

  ‘That’s what you think, Mam, but she’s not a bit shy when there’s just the two of us. And she can do a good impersonation of you, considering she doesn’t see as much of you and Auntie Nellie as I do. With more practice, we’ll give yer a run for yer money, Mam.’

  ‘You cheeky little monkey! Me and Nellie have got a long way to go yet before we retire, so don’t get any big ideas of knocking us off the top spot at parties. Auntie Nellie would have yer guts for garters if yer tried to steal her thunder.’

  ‘Yer won’t be the only one seeking to take over from Nellie, me darlin’,’ Corker told Ruthie. ‘Her daughter Lily is coming up on the rails fast. And another contender is yer own sister, Doreen. She does a very good impression of both Nellie and yer mam. So we’ve got years of wonderful, lively parties to look forward to. And at the very next one, I’ll bring you on to show how good you are. It will be yer very first time on stage in front of an audience.’

  Ruthie shook her head and bottom at the same time. ‘Sorry, Uncle Corker, but you won’t be having the pleasure at the very next party. There’s no adults coming to that ’cos there isn’t enough room for everyone. It’s a double birthday celebration for me and Bella, and we’ll be sixteen. But your Gordon and Peter will be here, and they can report back to you on our performance.’

  Molly pulled a face. ‘I think I’ll live to regret telling you all the tricks me and Nellie get up to. And don’t you dare try using today’s events in the police station as one of your acts. I’d be ashamed to show me face in the street if the whole neighbourhood learned what we’d been up to. Yer’d only need to tell one person and it would spread like wildfire. I know it was very funny, and nothing came of it because we were lucky enough to have a detective with a sense of humour. None the less, I don’t want it broadcast.’

  ‘We won’t be doing that, Mam, ’cos it only happened today and we haven’t rehearsed it. We’ve chosen, or should I say I chose, one where Auntie Nellie plays a trick on Tony, in the butcher’s. You remember, Mam, the one with the chickens.’

  Molly chuckled. ‘For the life of me, sunshine, and with the best will in the world, I can’t see Bella standing in the butcher’s with her hands on her hips, squinting out of half-closed eyes, and turning the air blue with her language.’

  Corker was grinning from ear to ear as he winked at Jack. He loved every member of the Bennett family. He’d known Molly and Jack since they moved into the street as newly-weds. They were soon friends. And the big man had seen the children grow from babies to adults. He’d lived at the top end of the street then, with his widowed mother Lizzie, although most of the time he was away at sea. When he docked in Seaforth Docks after a short or long trip, his first call was to his mother’s, then the Bennetts’. To him they weren’t just a friend or neighbour, they were more like family.

  ‘It looks as though your youngest is going to be a chip off the old block, Jack. In fact all your children are. The girls are just like their mam, in looks and nature. And Tommy is the spit of you. They are a credit to you and Molly, you’ve done a good job and are loved for it.’

  ‘Ay, what about yerself, Corker?’ Molly said. ‘You’ve got four smashing children who love the bones of yer. I know ye’re not their real father, but you’ve given them something they never had before, and that’s love and respect.’

  Ruthie had been following the conversation with interest, and she now joined in. ‘The children do love yer, Uncle Corker, and they’re not half proud of yer. Gordon says he wants to be like you when he’s older, but he’ll never be as big as you.’ She began to giggle. ‘I told him he better hadn’t grow a moustache and beard, or I’ll not be going dancing with him.’

  Molly leaned forward. ‘Ay, young lady, it’s manners to wait until ye’re asked. I bet there’s a line of girls at the church hall waiting and hoping Gordon or Peter ask them up for a dance. They’re both presentable young men.’

  ‘Oh, I think Gordon already has a girl in mind,’ Corker said in an off-hand manner. ‘He spends so much time on his appearance, I’d say there was something in the wind. Hair slicked down with Brylcreem, clothes brushed religiously, white hankie in his pocket and shoes so highly polished yer can see yer face in them. He wouldn’t spend so much time on his appearance if there wasn’t a girl involved.’

  Ruthie pursed her lips. Gordon couldn’t have a girlfriend, could he? She could feel her heart sinking, for if he did it would mean the end of their gang. And it would change everything. ‘I don’t think Gordon has a girlfriend, Uncle Corker, or he would have told us. When I said me and Bella were having a party here for our birthdays, he said right away that he’d love to come. Peter is coming as well, and Jeff and Ken. Besides all that, in our gang we tell each other everything, so if Gordon has got a girlfriend and not told us, then I think it’s mean of him.’

  Corker was sorry he’d spoken now, for the only girl Gordon had his eye on was Ruthie herself. He was even talking in his sleep about her, so he must be dead serious. However, it wasn’t up to his father to discuss his affairs of the heart. A young lad wanted to do his own wooing.

  ‘I think you are right, me darlin’, for he’s never mentioned any names. And if he did have a girl, Peter would know and spill the beans. He’d pull his brother’s leg soft.’

  ‘This time next year everyone in the gang will be courting,’ Molly said. ‘The lads will be turned eighteen and most lads that age are courting.’

  Corker nodded his agreement. ‘Ye’re right, Molly. I just hope none of mine stray far from home. Like yours, I hope they stay local so me and Ellen see them often.’

  Ruthie decided not to say any more. After all, actions speak louder then words. And just wait until the night of the party. She would make sure Gordon noticed her in earnest, for she intended to dress herself up to the nines. The same with Bella, who had eyes for no one but Peter. Her situation was easier than Ruthie’s, though, because for ages Peter had been telling everyone that Bella was his girlfriend. Suddenly a thought came into her head and she lowered her eyes so the laughter shining in them couldn’t be seen. A picture had flashed into her mind of Auntie Nellie standing in front of Gordon with her hands on her hips, telling him, ‘Ye’re too bloody slow to catch a cold, you are, lad. Yer need a kick up the backside.’ Corker getting to his feet brought Ruthie back to reality. ‘Are yer going, Uncle Corker?’

  ‘I’ve got a couple of calls to make, me darlin’, and if I don’t put a move on I’ll miss them. I only intended to stay ten minutes, but I always make meself so comfortable here, I never want to move.’ When he stretched his arms over his head, his fingers touched the ceiling. ‘I’ll be on me way now, and leave yer in peace. I’ll see meself out, Molly, you’ve had a busy day and must be tired. I’ll close the door, and likely as not I’ll see yer tomorrow.’

&
nbsp; Ruthie jumped to her feet. ‘What! No kiss, Uncle Corker?’

  He slapped his forehead with an open palm. ‘It’s forgetful I’m getting in me old age. Fancy me saying goodbye to two of the prettiest girls in the street, and not taking advantage of the situation. So if Jack has no objection, I’ll kiss you both and then take my leave.’

  Corker covered the ground to the main road quickly. He hadn’t intended staying so long in the Bennetts’, but it was one house he could never run in and out of. He’d have to make up for lost time now, for he’d promised Ellen he wouldn’t be late home. She liked to go to bed at a reasonable time after being on her feet in the shop all day, and then coming home to make a dinner for six people. That was hard going, and Corker was always telling her to pack in the job at the butcher’s. He had a good job, and the four children were working, so they could manage without her wages. But no amount of coaxing could change Ellen’s mind. Money didn’t come into the equation, it was the job she enjoyed.

  There was a pub at the end of nearly every one of the narrow streets, and it was into the second pub that Corker turned. The saloon was noisy and smoke-filled, crowded with men who would stand talking to their mates and making the pint of beer in their hands last them until closing time, for it was all they could afford. Corker was welcomed by the landlord, who pulled a pint of bitter and carried it to the end of the bar where the big man was standing. ‘Wasn’t expecting you tonight, Corker, but it’s always a pleasure to see yer.’

  ‘I wanted a word with yer, Bill.’ Corker raised the glass to his lips, and with two gulps emptied half of it. He ran the back of his hand across his moustache to wipe away the froth. Then he gave the landlord a sign to move closer, so their conversation couldn’t be overheard. ‘It’s about the robbery I told yer about last week, when an old lady was broken into. You said yer’d keep yer ears open for any leads on the robber.’

  ‘Not a peep, Corker. I did mention it to a couple of me regulars, but they didn’t know anything. And I’ve kept me eyes open, but no one has tried to flog a watch in here.’

  ‘I’ve got a description of the bloke now,’ Corker told him. ‘One of the old lady’s neighbours saw a man coming out of her house, but she didn’t twig anything was wrong, she just thought he was a visitor. And it wasn’t until Sunday she heard about the robbery. I’ve written the description down, ’cos I think it’s likely someone will know who he is.’ He took a slip of paper from his pocket. ‘A bloke about twenty, tall, slim, sallow complexion, dirty cap pulled down to cover his eyes, and a knee-length scruffy coat.’

  The landlord reached out and took the slip of paper from between Corker’s fingers. His eyes scanned the few lines of writing, then he looked up. ‘I know who this is, Corker. I barred him from this pub about two months ago for flogging stolen goods. He’s a rotter through and through. Twenty-one years of age, and he’s never worked since the day he left school. He’s crafty, and earns his money by stealing. He’s pig ignorant, can’t read or spell properly, but he’s never without money. Other people’s money. And he’s a loner, works on his own. If yer’d given me this description when yer were in last, I could have told yer right away who he is. He’ll pinch anything that’s not screwed down, and flogs it in pubs. I know he still goes in the pub on the next block, Les Simpson’s place, but it’s no good me telling yer to go and see Les, for I’d be sending yer on a wild goose chase, ’cos he’s as bent as the thieves. He lets stolen goods be sold in his pub, and he pockets a percentage of the money the lad gets.’

  ‘What’s the lad’s name, Bill? And does he live local?’

  The landlord nodded. ‘He’s the son of Ted and Flo Blakesley, and his name’s Sid. They live four streets away across the main road, and the whole family are rotten. They’d steal the eyes out of yer head if they thought they’d get a few coppers for them. They’re a bad lot. Wouldn’t trust them as far as I could throw them.’

  Corker frowned. ‘Ted Blakesley. Did he work on the docks a few years back?’

  There was sarcasm in the landlord’s voice. ‘I wouldn’t say he worked there, Corker. He got taken on there, but he only lasted a couple of weeks. They sacked him for stealing and taking too much time off. He’s a lazy sod, won’t do a hand’s turn. There’s hundreds of men round here who would have given anything for that job, men who would have worked their fingers to the bone for a job that put a wage packet in their hands every week. But not Ted Blakesley. He prefers to sit on his backside all day, then get his beer money from selling stolen stuff. And his wife is the same, a real fishwife, with a filthy mouth, and so fat she waddles from side to side. They never clean the windows or the step, so yer can imagine their house must be like a pigsty. The neighbours haven’t got a good word for them, ’cos the state of their house spoils the others.’

  The barman had been left to serve, and was run off his feet. Now he called for help. ‘Can yer give us a hand, Bill? I can’t serve and wash glasses as well.’

  ‘Be with yer in two seconds, Dan.’ Bill shrugged his shoulders at Corker. ‘I can’t leave him any longer, it’s bad for business. Men don’t like to be kept waiting. But let’s know if yer find out anything, Corker.’

  ‘I’ll do that, Bill, and yer’ve been a great help.’ He tapped his forehead. ‘Me mind has been ticking over as I’ve listened to what yer were saying. I’ve got half an idea in me head, which is a good start.’ Corker began to edge his way through the group of men standing near. His progress was slow, for everyone knew him and he was highly respected. Comments and greetings were exchanged with humour, and their laughter was still in his ears as he reached the door. He turned to wave a hand to Bill, who was pulling pints for the men leaning on the bar counter, and trying to make up for lost time.

  Once out in the fresh air, Corker stood for a while deciding what his next move should be. He didn’t have any reason for visiting the other pubs on his list, for Bill had supplied him with enough information to begin the task he’d set himself. And that was to find the rotter who had broken into Flora Parker’s house. He knew there was no possibility of getting her money back; that would have been spent over the counter in a pub the night it was stolen. It was the fob watch she treasured that was in his mind. It may be an impossible task to get that back now, after the lapse of time, but it was a task he was determined to take on.

  Corker’s eyes looked across the main road to the streets opposite. Bill had said the Blakesleys lived four streets away, but hadn’t given the name of the street. Besides, this wasn’t the time of night to seek out a family who could be sitting boozing in any of the dozens of pubs in the area. And approaching them in a crowded pub wasn’t the way to go about it. He needed a bit more information on the family first.

  A smile crossed Corker’s face, and he turned his steps in the direction of home. Ellen wasn’t expecting him back so soon, so he would have time to visit the two people who were the most likely to be able to help him out. This was right up their street; they liked nothing better than putting their detecting skills to the test. He’d give Molly a knock, and she could bring Nellie down. He’d tell them what he’d found out, and ask for their help. Not anything that would get them into trouble, just the exact address and sort of people the family were. The two friends excelled at that, and they’d be only too glad to do what they could seeing as it was for Flora. They might even know people who lived in the Blakesleys’ street, and that would be a help.

  Corker was aware that he really should report his findings to the police, but he was of the opinion that he would move quicker than the police could, and time was important in the case of the watch. If it had been sold to someone in a pub, or to an unscrupulous pawnbroker, there was a chance the thief could be frightened into giving the name of the buyer. And Molly and Nellie were his best bet when it came to getting information for him. A man asking questions would draw attention, but not two local women. Especially two women who were good at detective work. Turning the corner into his street, Corker chuckled softly. He could
see Nellie’s face in his mind’s eye, saying to Molly, ‘This is a case for the McDonough and Bennett Private Detective Agency, girl.’ And Molly answering, ‘How many times do I have to tell yer, sunshine, it’s Bennett and McDonough. I’m the senior partner.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Doreen saw her mother and Auntie Nellie come out of the house opposite, and she hurried to open the front door before they had time to knock. ‘I’ve just put Bobby down on the couch, Mam, and I was afraid you’d waken him up.’

  ‘How is he, sunshine?’

  ‘He slept a few hours through the night, which was a godsend, ’cos Phil got a good night’s sleep. And after I fed and bathed him this morning, he dropped off again. He’s still irritable and cries a lot, but his temperature doesn’t seem as high. I won’t ask yer in, if yer don’t mind, ’cos he’d only wake up, and I’m hoping he sleeps long enough for me to get some washing done.’

  Molly tutted. ‘I don’t know why yer won’t let me do some washing for yer. It would give yer less to worry about, and I could have it washed and out on the line in no time.’

  ‘I can manage, Mam. I’ve got to get used to being a mother and coping with all the baby ailments Bobby’s bound to get. I won’t say no to yer doing me shopping, though, ’cos I wouldn’t leave the baby with Aunt Vicky, it wouldn’t be fair to her. So I’ve made a list out, and I’ve put enough down to last me two days. Hang on till I get the list for yer.’ Doreen was gone for a matter of seconds, and when she came back she passed a piece of paper over to her mother, and a ten shilling note. ‘Aunt Vicky said to give yer her love. We both miss yer, ’cos we haven’t had a good laugh for days.’