Chapter Sixteen

LIZZIE BRIGHT bit her lip as she sat waiting in the police station for Tommy Gardner to come into the room. It seemed like an eternity as she waited from 9.30 until 10.00 that morning and when Gardner did eventually appear he gave the impression that there was nothing new that young Richard’s mother could tell him to further his enquiries in the case and he looked above Lizzie’s head to see the same NO SMOKING sign there before he put his cigarette lighter away.

“Good morning, Mrs. Bright. I hope I find you well,” he asked and Lizzie Bright nodded. “You have some more information for me then?” he asked and she nodded again without saying a word. “Can I get you a cup of tea or something?” he went on and then it seemed that Lizzie Bright woke up from a trance.

“I don’t know what you lot are trying to do to me and my Richard,” she demanded and her eyes were ablaze with anger. Tommy noted that she mentioned herself before her son... It wasn’t Richard and me, but ME AND MY RICHARD...

“I told you that he spent a fair bit of time with this... this woman; this wretched female,” she went on and her breathing became shallower as she spoke... “but I also told you that he stayed with me at the weekends, as she wouldn’t have him in that time.”

Gardner stared at her in surprise. There was nothing new in what Lizzie Bright had said to him and yet she seemed to think it was some information of the utmost importance.

“Yes, yes, I agree,” said Gardner, “I know that. You did tell me when we last met.”

“But what I didn’t tell you and I’m telling you now, is this... my Richard spent most of his time with this... this female and on the few days he stayed with me at the weekends, he didn’t pay a penny for his keep. Now she must have been taking his money. That’s all I can say and I don’t think that’s at all fair. Do you?”

Again Gardner looked at his lady visitor with surprise. He had no idea if Ricky-Boy paid Maya Thompson for his keep... whilst he was with her and he hardly dare mention to Mrs. Bright that the female that her son was living with for the most part of a week, bought him a violin that cost over £4,000. That was something that Lizzie Bright would certainly not want to hear.

“I am sorry to hear that, Mrs. Bright, but isn’t this something about which you should speak to your son?”

Mrs. Bright fluttered her eyelashes and sighed.

“He keeps telling me that he will give me something... in time, but time is passing by quickly and he hasn’t given me anything to date... well apart from a little bit after the first two weeks.”

“And how much was that, Mrs. Bright? This little bit that he gave you?”

“Well it was a hundred if you must know but that’s nothing to what he must be giving this woman, I’m sure and I want more than that. I am his mother... don’t forget. I carried that boy in my womb for nine months and even then he wasn‘t an easy birth, you know. Nearly died having him... nearly bled to death, I did and this is all the thanks I get now.”

Tommy Gardner raised his eyebrows and groaned. How many times had he heard this story? How many times had some mother’s womb been stretched out of recognition in order to produce the darling fruit of her life and how many nearly died in the effort? He knew the number was interminable and he knew that most woman gave birth with joy in their hearts and never counted the cost, regardless of the obvious pain of which he was well aware... but Mrs. Bright was the lady who made her son; the fruits of her womb, leave school at the early age of fourteen rather than go on for further studies, because she needed the money he could earn in a super market, whilst she carried on night after night with one or other of her fancy men.

“Mrs. Bright,” he said solemnly, “I am afraid I have another interview to do now and I am unable to give you any more time. The constable will see you out. Good day.”

Lizzie Bright was about to hold him back, insisting that he should do something to ensure that her son paid her more money as it was her rights by law, but Tommy Gardner swept past her as he considered again the words of her son when he asked him what his mother called him at home, expecting some pet name or other as he was her one and only son and he had answered that he didn’t have any mother... “Not like a mother would be as you would know a mother,” was Ricky-Boy’s reply and Tommy Gardner left the police station to enjoy a well deserved fag.