On Friday 2 March, Rosie collected Danny from school. All the way home he chatted about how he had: ‘Got two stars for helping to put the ink-pots away.’ He related how he and Bob Marcus had made friends again, after having several tiffs over the last few days, and Rosie told him how pleased she was at his good news.
She, however, had some good news of her own, and found it really hard to keep the secret. When they got off the bus, she almost ran him all the way home. ‘How much coal did you sell today, Mam?’ he asked, puffing and panting as they went at a fast pace up the street.
‘More than yesterday,’ she answered, with a twinkle in her brown eyes. ‘And a lot more than the day before.’ She too was puffing and panting. After having been at work all day, and now with a surprisingly warm sun beating down on her back, she suddenly felt exhausted. At the same time she was exhilarated by what had taken place only two hours earlier.
As they neared the house, Rosie slowed the pace. Glancing down, she watched the boy’s expression turn from astonishment to curiosity. ‘Look, Mam!’ he cried. ‘Somebody’s left a hand-cart outside our house.’ Breaking free from her, he ran towards it. The cart was quite small, not much longer than a pram in fact. But it was deep and cavernous, with sturdy wooden sides and huge spoked wheels. Painted white, with blue along the carved rim, it was a thing of joy. The shaft was not too long, but, being sturdy and wide, was big enough to house a small horse or donkey. But the most exciting thing of all was the name emblazoned on the side in large gold lettering… ‘ROSIE AND SON’ it read ‘COAL MERCHANTS’.
‘It’s ours, sweetheart,’ Rosie murmured, watching her son’s eyes widen with disbelief as he carefully read the letters out loud.
‘Ours?’ Swinging round, he stared at her, his whole face open with surprise. ‘Where’d you get it, Mam?’
‘Well, you know the wheel on the pram was beginning to wobble?’ He nodded so she went on, ‘I took it down to the rag’a’bone man, to see if I could buy some other wheels.’ She pointed to the handcart. ‘I saw this and fell in love with it.’
‘Did it cost all the money we’ve earned?’
‘Not quite. It’s made a great hole in it, but we’re still in profit, and we’re getting more customers every day. And I got half back on the pram what I’d paid for it.’ She chuckled. ‘That’s not bad, especially when we’ve had the best out of it.’
‘Can I play with the cart?’ His chubby hand roved lovingly over the wheels which were taller even than he was.
‘It’s not a plaything.’
‘Can I polish it then?’
‘I don’t see why not.’ She had already washed and polished the cart, especially where the lettering showed. But she didn’t want to dampen his enthusiasm, so told him it was a wonderful idea. ‘Tea first though,’ she declared. ‘Then into your old togs.’ Before she finished speaking, he was waiting at the door. When she turned the key in the lock he was gone, along the passage, up the stairs two steps at a time, and down a minute later, changed out of his school-clothes and into his play-things. ‘Ready, Mam!’ he called as he ran into the living-room where she was waiting at table for him; the fish pie had been left gently baking while she went to the school, and now it was done to a turn.
‘Wash your hands,’ she told him, glancing at the dust he had gathered from the cart wheels.
Several times through the meal Rosie had to caution him. ‘You’ll choke yourself eating as quickly as that, my boy!’ Danny sighed and took his time. But it was plain he couldn’t wait to get out and into that cart. ‘Go on then,’ Rosie agreed. ‘There’s a tin of polish in the kitchen drawer, and a box of polishing rags under the sink.’ Before she could draw breath he was out of the front door, with the articles held firmly in his arms. When she looked out of the front room window a minute later, he was proudly showing the cart to Peggy’s younger brother and sister. ‘That’s me there,’ he said, pointing to the word ‘Son’. ‘And that’s my mam… “Rosie”.’
The big lad shoved him playfully. ‘We know that, you little squirt. Here, let me polish the wheels.’ At first Danny resisted when the lad picked up a polishing cloth. But then the lad’s pretty sister smiled at him, and he went all silly. ‘Do you want a polishing rag?’ he asked shyly. She shook her head and hurried away. ‘Take no notice of her,’ the lad said. ‘She’s a pain in the arse.’
An hour later, Danny came back in. He was covered in polishing wax and smelled like a perfume counter. ‘Can I pull the cart tomorrow, Mam?’ he asked, standing at the door with the polish in one hand and a clutch of rags in the other.
‘I don’t think so, sweetheart.’ Taking the rags and polish from him, she drew him into the kitchen where she proceeded to take off his shirt. She had already run a bowl of hot soapy water for his wash.
‘Why not? I nearly come up to your shoulder, don’t I?’
‘I’m afraid you’ll need to grow just a bit more,’ she explained. ‘The cart is different from the pram, sweetheart. You see, it was much easier with the pram, because you pushed it along. But the cart has to be pulled, and besides, it will be carrying nearly three times as much coal.’
‘I want to help though,’ he insisted, a frown darkening his face.
‘And you will, I promise. Anyway, I don’t know if I could manage without you,’ she said, humouring him.
‘When I’m at school, you’ll have to,’ he solemnly reminded her.
‘Well, then, I won’t put so much coal in the cart, eh?’ she fibbed. That seemed to satisfy him. ‘Now then, get yourself washed and into your pyjamas, and we’ll spend an hour on your jigsaw before bedtime.
They were halfway through the jigsaw when Danny suggested they should bring the cart into the house. ‘In case somebody pinches it.’
‘Now, who on earth would want to pinch our cart?’ The idea was unthinkable.
‘If I can’t pull the cart, can I sit on it then? When it’s not too heavy,’ he quickly added.
‘’Course you can,’ Rosie assured him.
‘I love you, Mam,’ he said, planting a sloppy kiss on her face. ‘And I love our new cart.’ A look of seriousness came over him. Are we rich yet?’ he asked.
‘Not yet,’ she said, laughing. ‘But we’re doing all right.’
‘When will we have enough money to buy a horse?’
‘When we’ve sold a good few cartloads of coal, I should think.’ With that they finished the jigsaw, each of them preoccupied with their own thoughts and growing more bone tired by the minute.
At half-past eight, Danny went to his bed. Rosie went to hers an hour later. ‘It’s up with the lark for us tomorrow,’ she muttered, climbing into bed. But she wasn’t daunted by the thought. In fact, she was happier than she had been in many years.
It was the dark hours when Rosie woke with a start. The circle of light travelled over the bedroom, sweeping from wall to wall and over the ceiling. At first she couldn’t make out what the light was. Then she realised. It was a torch. Someone outside was shining a torch into the bedroom.
Scrambling out of bed, she turned on the overhead light and rushed across the room to open the window. Down below in the street, she could just make out the dark shapes of two men standing in front of the steps. There was another figure at the door, and a fourth one standing beside a car. It was a police car, and the men were uniformed. ‘Sorry to wake you, Mrs Selby,’ said the officer nearest the door. ‘But we need to talk with you.’
Trembling in the cold air, Rosie put on her dressing-gown and went down to open the door. Afraid even to wonder why they were here, she merely stepped aside to let them in. The one who had first spoken to her removed his helmet and stepped inside; his colleague, a tall fellow with a round friendly face, accompanied him. The other two remained posted outside.
Once they were inside the living-room, the round-faced officer addressed Rosie in quiet, considerate tones. ‘Mrs Selby, isn’t it? Husband by the name of Douglas Selby?’
‘That’s right.’ Rosie trembled as she clutched her dressing- gown about her. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself from shivering though the room was still quite warm, and the fire had not altogether died down in the grate. ‘What’s happened?’ she asked nervously, looking from one to the other. Her stomach was churning over. She felt physically sick.
‘Sit down, luv.’ The round-faced officer gestured for her to sit in the armchair. ‘It’s not what you think.’
As Rosie sank into the chair, she wondered how he could possibly know what she was thinking. All sorts of terrible possibilities assailed her mind. Was it Ned… had something happened to him? Or Adam? Oh, dear God above! She couldn’t bear to think on it. Suddenly, her instincts came into play, and every muscle in her body seemed to relax. ‘It’s Doug, isn’t it?’ Yes. She was sure now. But why were they here? Had he got into a fight and been killed? Her thoughts flew to Danny. He would suffer too. Not now, but later, when the truth came out about his daddy, he was bound to suffer.
‘Yes, Mrs Selby. It is. I’m afraid your husband has escaped.’ Unaware that she wasn’t listening beyond those words, he went on to explain how, following an accident some weeks back, when Doug lost most of the toes on his right foot, he had been confined to hospital. ‘Of course there were men posted outside, and he was regularly checked. But somehow he fooled the night duty constable, and managed to get out of the hospital unseen.’
Rosie had not heard a single word, other than that Doug was on the run. Would he try and get right away from this area? Or would he head for home? The idea that he should come here terrified her.
‘Mrs Selby?’ Seeing how the colour had drained from Rosie’s face, the constable sat in the chair beside her, his quiet voice betraying his concern. ‘Are you all right?’
Rosie mentally shook herself. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you were saying?’
Patiently, he repeated everything he had told her. ‘We found a trail of blood along the corridors,’ he revealed. ‘Your husband is obviously in urgent need of medical attention. According to the doctor, he’s lost a great deal of blood, and can only get steadily weaker.’
‘What do you want from me?’
‘If he turns up here, or if you hear from him, we want to know. Will you do that?’
‘Yes.’
‘You haven’t had news of him already, have you? I mean… he hasn’t been in touch?’
‘No.’
‘Do you mind if we look around?’
‘I don’t know. My son’s asleep upstairs. I don’t want him frightened.’
‘It’s all right.’ His face beamed. ‘We may look like big hulking lumps, but you’d be surprised how quiet we can be.’ He jerked a thumb at his colleague who went softly out of the room and up the stairs. A few minutes later he returned, went into the front room, and finally came back to report, ‘Nothing, Sarge.’
‘Right.’ The senior officer nodded at Rosie. ‘We’ll leave you in peace then. Thank you for your time.’ He turned to go, but looked round to instruct her. ‘Lock the doors behind us, and be careful when you go about your business.’
‘What do you mean?’ Fear clutched at Rosie’s heart.
‘I don’t want to worry you unduly. But, well, he did make a threat in court, didn’t he?’
Rosie hadn’t forgotten. ‘Thank you, officer,’ she said, following him to the door. ‘If I hear anything… anything at all, I’ll let you know. And don’t worry, I’ll be careful.’ And she would. Normally she left the kitchen door unlocked of an evening. But from now on, when she and Danny were in the house alone, all the doors would be locked and bolted.
Rosie didn’t go back to her bed. She wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway. So she made herself a cup of tea and piled a few more coals on the fire. ‘You’ll have to get past me to get to him,’ she muttered. If it came to it, she would gladly lay her life on the line for that innocent little boy upstairs.
When the dawn broke through, Rosie was curled up in the chair fast asleep. Tiredness had overtaken her. But when the sun came filtering into the room she opened her eyes. The events of the night came back to her, bringing a new and strange kind of fear.
Her waking instinct was to run upstairs to see if Danny was all right. He was stirring as she came into the room. ‘All right, sweetheart?’ Sitting on the edge of his bed, she stroked the tumble of hair from his forehead.
‘I dreamed about our cart, Mam,’ he yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. ‘Can we fill it right to the brim?’
‘You see if we don’t!’ Rosie was thankful that his dreams had been much happier than her own.
Fed, washed and dressed for carting coal in worn old clothes that had seen better days, Rosie and her son emerged to a new morning. The mantelpiece clock struck seven as they went out the front door. Peggy’s mam was just collecting her milk bottles from the step. ‘Morning, dear,’ she called. With thin straggly skeins of hair wrapped round numerous flat tin curlers, and her feet clad in enormous red slippers, she made a frightening sight. ‘Saw your new cart last night. It’ll do you a good turn, will that.’ Taking Danny with her, Rosie went to the other woman. ‘Any news from Peggy?’
‘Only the usual… telling me how she’s going on.’ She looked downcast. ‘I’m sorry, lass, but there’s no word for you.’
‘Oh, it’s not your fault,’ Rosie comforted. ‘Besides, that’s not the only reason I came to see you.’
‘Oh?’
‘I wonder if you’d do something for me?’
‘You’ve only to ask, you know that.’
‘Did you hear anything untoward last night? In the early hours to be exact?’
She shook her head, sending a tin curler clattering to the ground. Bending to retrieve it, she grunted, ‘Can’t say I did. But then, I’ve always slept like a log.’ Hugging the milk bottles she asked, ‘Why? Was there a disturbance?’
Rosie was glad she didn’t need to go into any detail. ‘I just thought I heard something,’ she said. ‘It’s made me a bit nervous, leaving the house empty all day an’ all. Could you maybe keep an eye on things?’
‘Goes without saying, dear.’
Rosie put on her brightest smile. ‘Right then, I’d better make tracks or the best coal will be all gone.’ She hurried Danny away, sat him on the cart with his little legs dangling over the side, and trundled off down the street, dragging the cart behind her.
Peggy’s mam watched until Rosie and son had turned the corner. Shaking her head, she muttered harshly, ‘By! It’s coming to summat when a lovely young woman like that has to fit ’atween the shafts of a cart, like a bloody donkey!’ With that, she thanked her lucky stars, and went indoors to write Peggy a stinging letter.
If Peggy’s mam had stayed on the doorstep a few minutes longer, she would have seen a crouched bedraggled figure sneak out of a doorway some short distance down the street. She would have seen him go, in a slow painful gait, after Rosie and the boy. And never in a million years would she have believed that Rosie’s pursuer was none other than her own husband, now an escaped convict. His injuries had become badly re-infected and his blood was carrying the poison to his heart. He was dying. And he meant to take Rosie and the boy with him.
A short time after Rosie left Castle Street at one end, the dark saloon drew in from the other. Ned was in the passenger seat. Adam was driving. ‘I’m not sure about this, Ned,’ he protested. ‘I’d much rather have gone straight to the hotel. You could have come back on your own once we’d made all our other calls.’
‘That’s an empty argument, and you know it,’ Ned chastised. ‘Castle Street is on our way in to town. It makes more sense to see her now. You said yourself we’ve enough appointments to keep us going ’til dark, and what with everything else, and the pair of us having to get back the day after tomorrow, it won’t leave that much time for visiting.’ Consulting the address on a slip of paper in his hand, he stretched forward to read the number on the door. ‘This is it,’ he said. ‘Pull over.’
Edging the car into the kerbside outside Rosie’s front door, Adam was thrilled yet nervous, his knuckles chalk white as he gripped the steering wheel. ‘I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this,’ he groaned.
‘Like I said, it makes sense to call in. We’re practically passing the front door anyway.’
‘I doubt if she’s up at this hour of a morning.’ Adam looked at his watch. ‘Good God, man! It’s not yet eight o’clock. And it’s Saturday. If she’s got any sense she’ll still be abed.’
‘It’s no good you using that as an excuse to drive away. Rosie was never one for staying in bed of a morning, and I can’t see why she’d change the habit of a lifetime now.’ He glanced at Adam and was moved by his plight. There was no doubt that Adam adored Rosie. ‘I wish you’d come in,’ Ned pleaded.
Adam groaned. ‘I can’t, Ned. There’s bad feeling between us, and if I barge in without being asked, it will only make matters worse. Her last letter made it very clear she wanted no contact with me whatsoever.’ The memory of that cold short letter cut through him. ‘I have to respect her wishes. You must know that.’
‘I’m sorry, son.’ Ned still made no move to get out of the car.
‘If you’re going, you’d best get a move on.’ Leaning over, Adam unlocked the door and pushed it open. ‘I know you mean well, Ned, but you’re only prolonging the agony. You go. I’ll wait here.’ He thought it strange he could sound so calm when his insides were in turmoil. It was all he could do not to leap from the car and bang on that front door. To see Rosie again, to feel the warmth of her radiant smile, would be the most wonderful thing.
‘All right. But I’d like to bet that once she knows you’re here, she’ll be straight out to see you.’ He climbed out of the car and poked his head back in to say, ‘Our Rosie was never one for bearing grudges.’
‘It’s not a matter of bearing grudges and you know it.’ Slowly winding the window up, he urged, ‘Go on, Ned. And look, it might be best if you don’t let her know I’m here.’
‘Whatever you say.’
Twice he knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Turning to look at Adam, who was peering from the car window, he stretched out his arms in a gesture of helplessness. ‘Seems like there’s nobody in,’ he said, expression downcast.
Peggy’s mam was just putting out the empties. ‘It’s no good you knocking on that door,’ she told him sharply, ‘because Mrs Selby ain’t there.’ Regarding Ned through suspicious eyes, she came a step closer. ‘What’s your business with her anyway?’ She hadn’t forgotten how Rosie had asked her to keep an eye on the house.
‘I’m her father-in-law… Ned Selby.’ As he came towards her his face was wreathed in a friendly smile. ‘It’s been a while since I’ve seen Rosie. We’re in the area and, to be honest, I thought it was time I mended a few broken bridges between me and mine.’
‘Hmh! Ned Selby, you say?’ Retreating up the steps, she eyed him up and down. ‘As far as I’m concerned, you could be Jack the bleedin’ Ripper, ’cause I ain’t never seen you in my life afore.’ Oddly enough, though she knew of Ned Selby, and Peggy had mentioned him umpteen times, Peggy’s mam had never clapped eyes on him.
Ned was faintly amused. Out of the corner of his eye he could that Adam also appreciated the situation. ‘I’ve never been accused of being Jack the Ripper before,’ he told her. ‘Honest, luv, I really am Ned Selby, and if our Rosie was here, she’d vouch for me right enough.’
‘Well, she ain’t here, is she? What’s more, if she was here, you wouldn’t need vouching for, would you?’
‘You’re right, I wouldn’t.’ Reaching into his waistcoat pocket, he withdrew a pen. Fishing out a scrap of paper from his jacket pocket, he asked, ‘I don’t suppose you’ll tell me where I could find her.’
‘Nope!’
‘But you won’t refuse to give her a message?’
‘I suppose I could do that all right.’
Pressing the scrap of paper to the wall, he scribbled:
Rosie,
I’m sorry I missed you today, but I’ll call round later tonight. Hope that’s all right? I need to explain why I stayed away. I hadn’t realised how much I’d miss you both. I’m here for only a couple of days, and there’s so much to tell you. Look forward to seeing you and Danny.
Love,
Ned
He folded the note and gave it to Peggy’s mam. ‘It’s important,’ he said, and there was a strange kind of sadness in his voice. The exchange ended, he climbed back into the car. When he saw her crumple the note into her pinnie pocket, he muttered, ‘I hope she remembers to give it to Rosie.’ Pushing himself down into the seat, he wondered how his daughter-in-law might welcome him.
Adam gave no answer. He was engrossed in his own thoughts and, as always, Rosie was at the heart of them.
The guv’nor of the sidings had stopped being astonished at Rosie’s fever for work. Every morning, six days a week, she would arrive at the yard at seven-thirty on the dot. There was always a smile and a cheery greeting as he came to help her fill her pram. This morning, however, even with her new cart and the prospect of earning more, there was no cheery greeting, and her face was serious as she paid over her money. ‘I don’t know what time I’ll be back,’ she said. ‘There’s enough in the cart to take me twice as far as usual on the first round.’
‘If you had a horse to pull it, you could fill the cart right to the top,’ he declared, trying to bring a smile to her face.
‘Well, seeing as it’s me that’s doing the pulling, I’ll settle for what’s in it now.’ While she and the guv’nor were talking, Danny had wandered away. Suddenly she caught sight of him and her heart froze inside her. ‘DANNY, NO!’ Her voice sailed across the yard as she took to her heels and headed towards the railway tracks; the coal-filled wagons were silently shunting towards the bays where they would off-shoot their loads. Danny was close to the tracks. Too close for safety.
‘Jesus Christ!’ The guv’nor saw Danny only seconds after Rosie spotted him, and now she was running like the wind, terror in her eyes as she realised that Danny was unaware of the wagons creeping up on him.
Rosie heard the guv’nor calling out way behind her, fearing that she too was in danger of slipping beneath the wagons. But there was no stopping her now. All she could see was Danny, and he was in terrible danger. ‘DANNY, COME AWAY!’ Her voice sounded like that of a stranger, and her chest was so tight she could hardly breathe.
Before the big man could catch up, she had grabbed Danny and swung him out of the way. Clutching him to her, she watched the big iron wheels trundle by, and gave up a prayer of thanks. ‘Cut a man in two them wheels would.’ The guv’nor leaned forward, hands on his knees, gasping for breath. His small eyes were fierce with anger. ‘How many times have I told you to keep away from this part of the yard?’ he croaked.
‘I think he’s learned his lesson,’ Rosie replied protectively. She could feel the boy trembling in her arms.
Staring at her, the guv’nor snapped, ‘I shouldn’t really let you in here at all, bugger it!’ He had been frightened out of his wits. His fear made him angry, and the fact that he hadn’t been able to catch up with a slip of a woman like Rosie irked him down deep. ‘It’d be my bloody job on the line if they knew I let you in here.’ Having regained his breath enough to stand up, he breathed hard through his nose. The next rebuke came out on a rush of air. ‘What have you got to say for yourself, young fella?’ he demanded stonily.
‘It won’t happen again,’ Rosie promised. Holding Danny away from her, she looked into his white face. ‘Isn’t that so?’ Her voice was hard, chastising, and he knew she had been terrified. ‘You will never come near this part of the yard again, will you?’ He shook his head and she was satisfied.
‘I don’t know.’ The guv’nor scratched his head and thought. He had a great sympathy for Rosie. She was a woman with a man’s heart, a fighter he couldn’t help but admire. Yet, when she looked at him now, it was through the soft, pleading eyes of a mother. He couldn’t turn her away. ‘All right,’ he conceded. ‘But he’s not to leave your side.’ Glaring at the boy, he asked, ‘D’you understand?’
Danny nodded. ‘I’m sorry.’
The guv’nor studied him awhile. He studied Rosie, and told them both, ‘I must be stark staring mad!’ Then he ushered them back to the far end of the yard, where the cart was ready for off.
Only when they had gone with Rosie between the shafts and the boy pushing the cart from behind, did he go into his office.
Always too far behind to grab her, and wanting to be sure that the moment was right and she could not escape him, Doug Selby had followed Rosie to the yard. Exhausted and in crippling pain, he dropped behind one of the railway bays. His weakness and the altercation between Rosie and the guv’nor were enough to keep him there, with the intention of recouping his strength. ‘So’re coming back, are you?’ he sneered, settling deeper into the coal pile. ‘Well, you can be sure I’ll be waiting, Rosie my lovely.’ He laughed softly and it was a chilling sound. ‘How could I think of leaving without you?’
He rolled his agonised eyes to the heavens, but it was Hell he was contemplating.
The guv’nor put the kettle on. ‘Need a brew to calm my nerves,’ he muttered. Taking out a whisky bottle from the filing cabinet, he poured a measure of the golden liquid into a cup. ‘And a bit of fire to drive away the cold,’ he chuckled.
An hour later, he sat down to sort the mail. It was three days old, and he still hadn’t got round to dealing with it. ‘Best get this lot out of the way before the postman arrives with another bag full,’ he grumbled, slitting open the envelopes one after the other. There were two bills, a catalogue for shovels and equipment, a reminder that the holiday periods had to be entered, and a letter. ‘Hello, what’s this then?’ Normally there were no letters as such, only official documents and trade brochures.
The letter was from Adam Roach, advising the guv’nor that he would be calling in at the sidings Saturday at midday: ‘to discuss business’. ‘Bloody Hell!’ He glanced up at the clock in horror. ‘That’s today.’
The clerk, who up to now had made himself scarce in the back office, poked his head round the door. ‘What’s that, guv?’ A small thin man with a flat face and a great shock of black hair, he resembled a floor mop.
‘You should have checked this mail, bugger you. Am I expected to do everything round here?’ Like all men in high places, he knew how to delegate the blame.
‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘I’m talking about this.’ He threw the letter down. ‘I’ve a meeting with Adam Roach, you daft sod, and thanks to you, I knew nothing at all about it.’
‘I don’t see how you can blame me.’ Collecting the letter from the floor the clerk read it and replaced it on the desk. ‘Especially when I’m not even allowed to open the mail.’
‘’Course it’s your bloody fault! Keeping tabs on things like that is what you’re paid for.’
‘If he’s not due ’til midday, there’s plenty of time yet,’ came the cheeky reply. ‘I don’t know why you’re panicking.’
‘He’s one of the biggest coal-merchants in the North… he’s built up Ned Selby’s old round into a huge concern, and now he’s looking to expand,’ gabbled the guv’nor. ‘Happen that’s why I’m panicking.’ Growing thoughtful, he rubbed the flat of his hand over the stubble on his chin. Eyeing the other fellow with a grim face, he murmured, ‘The word is, Roach has bought Sutcliffe out. If that’s the case, he’ll be looking for a supplier. Happen he’s coming here to talk terms.’ The prospect brought a smile to his face.
‘We could do with a few big contracts an’ all.’
‘’Course we could. We’ve not yet found a market for all the tons we normally supply to Sutcliffe. You know yourself how that contract has been falling away these past months. Why do you think I’m letting such folk as Rosie Selby come in here with a bloody hand cart, eh? Because we need all the help we can get, that’s why! What’s more, Roach won’t just be coming here, you can bet on that. There are other suppliers beside me, and with a man like that, you can depend on it he means to see every one of ’em.’
‘Then we’d best get this pig-sty cleaned up, eh? First impressions count, or so they say.’
‘Not so much of the we. You can get on and clean the place up while I attend to the more important part. He won’t be looking for a tidy office. He’ll be looking at the quality of what we can offer. And that’s out there… in the yard.’ That said, he grabbed a clipboard and pen, and stormed out. He wasn’t seen again until gone ten-thirty.
In the time between, he calculated the amount of stock on the ground, and assessed the different grades of coal readily available. ‘Anybody’d think it were royalty coming, instead of Adam Roach,’ he declared sullenly, striding across the railway tracks to examine the stock on the other side. He muttered and moaned, and checked his watch every few minutes. At half-past ten he reminded himself, ‘If the bugger’s coming here at midday, that gives me just over an hour to work out my best figures. By! And they’d best be favourable, unless I want him to take his money elsewhere.’ With a greater sense of urgency, he pushed the pen behind his ear and went at a smart pace back to the office which was now clean and tidy as a new pin.
Fearing every minute he might be discovered, the bedraggled creature pressed down into the dark coals; covered in a thick film of dust, he was barely detectable. ‘Seems it’s my lucky day,’ he chuckled wickedly. ‘Rosie and the boy, and now Roach… and all I have to do is be patient.’ Taking the crudely made gun from his trouser belt, he stroked it lovingly as a man might stroke a woman. In prison he had made many friends, all of his own devious kind and all from different walks of life. The man who had made the gun was a blacksmith. The one who had smuggled it out was a trustee, working in the prison library. ‘Nice to have friends in high places,’ he laughed. It was good to laugh out loud, and know that for the moment he could not be heard. Soon though the laughter turned to whimpers of agony. One glance at his leg told him it was beyond redemption. ‘Rotten,’ he observed without regret. ‘Like me.’
Hearing the rumble of trucks, rolling into the yard for their second load of the day, he slunk deeper, lying silent, hoping he would not be exposed to curious eyes. When the trucks went by, he breathed a sigh of relief. Already that morning the loaders had dipped into the bay where he was hiding. Now they were here to load only slack and top quality coal.
An hour later, when the trucks had left and all was quiet again in the yard, Rosie came through the gate. Danny was helping her to push the empty cart. He was also complaining that he was ‘starving hungry’.
Rosie had heard it all before. ‘You’re always hungry. You had two helpings of porridge and both my sausages for breakfast,’ she reminded him good-naturedly. ‘I’m beginning to think you’ve got hollow legs.’ She was not unaware how hard he had worked that morning, and thanked the Lord for such a plucky little chap. ‘What about that apple Brenda Watson gave me? Will that keep you going for a while? On the way to Whalley Banks, I’ll stop at the bakers on King Street, and you can get us each a meat and potato pie.’ She now realised just how hungry she was too.
‘All right, Mam.’ He held out his hand for the apple, then groaned when Rosie produced a small damp towel from beneath the cart instead. ‘Oh, Mam, you’re always washing me.’ He wrinkled his face while she rubbed it with the corner of the towel.
‘Just because we sell coal don’t mean to say we have to look like chimney-sweeps,’ she scolded. She then wiped her own face and hands, and gave him the apple from her pocket, first taking a bite herself. ‘That should keep you going,’ she said. When he ate it in two great bites, she was afraid he might eat his arm into the bargain. ‘Anybody would think you were starving,’ she laughed. Pushing against the wagon, she started it moving forward. ‘Come on. We’ll pay for the next load and be off. We’ll have to look sharp because we’ve still got four streets to do, and I don’t want us making our way home in the dark.’
‘Mam?’
‘What now?’ Every bone in her body ached and she could hardly put one foot before the other.
‘Are we rich yet?’
Rosie laughed out loud. ‘Not yet, but we’re getting there.’ She jangled the coins in her pocket. ‘We’ve made more money this morning than we normally make in a full day.’
His face lit up. ‘Can we do six streets before we go home?’
Rosie frowned at him. ‘Are you trying to kill your poor mam off?’
Danny was horrified. ‘I don’t care if we’re never rich!’ he declared, and she hugged him until it hurt.
Rosie was halfway between the office and the gate when he saw her. His eyes lit up. ‘At last,’ he whispered. Edging himself out of the bay, he stalked her as far as the railway tracks. Summoning every ounce of strength left in him, he got in front of her to hide behind the tall shuttering. From here they could not be seen from the office. It was a perfect place for an ambush, he thought. He watched through an open knot in the planks, chuckling to himself as Rosie and the boy came nearer. He could hear them talking and laughing, and the hatred in him grew until he was out of his mind.
Rosie stopped to shake the dust from her skirt. ‘It’ll be nice to get a bath,’ she said.
‘When we’re rich we can have a bathroom each, can’t we, Mam?’
Rosie smiled her approval. ‘And gold taps.’
‘And big silky towels with swans on?’
And a deep soft carpet that shows your footprints after you’ve walked on it.’
‘I’d like that, Mam.’
‘Oh, I expect by the time we’re rich, you’ll have a wife and a home of your own. And you can share all these things with her.’
‘I won’t.’
Rosie stopped the cart and looked at him. ‘Oh, and why not?’
‘’Cause when I grow up, I’m going to marry you!’
There was no answer to that. Instead, Rosie started forward again.
She was humorously mulling over what Danny had said when a furtive movement in the bays made her swing round. Like a fiend from Hell he was on her. In his blackened face his eyes were stark white, almost luminous. As the twining coiled round her neck, Rosie’s first thought was for her son. In a strangled cry she told him, ‘RUN, DANNY! FOR GOD’S SAKE, GET HELP. RUN! RUN!’
‘That was a stupid thing to do, my lovely.’ Doug’s voice reached her through the fear. ‘Be careful, this twining can cut through your throat like a wire through cheese.’ But Rosie’s fear was not for herself, because even while he was speaking another, even greater fear rippled through her. Her eyes were on Danny as he ran away, stumbling and crying. Rosie’s prayers went with him. In his haste, Danny fell over again, and Rosie was frozen in horror as Doug tightened his hold on the twining, almost throttling her. He then raised his free arm and took aim, deliberately taking his time as Danny struggled to get himself upright.
In sheer desperation, and without a single thought for her own life, Rosie began violently struggling, desperately trying to knock Doug sideways. But the twining was embedded in her throat, stifling her breath and slowly killing her. Suddenly there was an explosion. Danny was lifted off his feet and hurled forward, lying where he fell, silent and twisted, his small white face turned towards Rosie. In that moment it was as though all the life drained out of her. She felt the heat of her tears as they flowed down her face. She heard Doug’s sinister chuckle, but it held no fear for her. Not now. Not any more. All she wanted was to be with Danny.
The two men in the office ran to the window. ‘That was a gunshot, I’m telling you!’ The clerk pressed his nose to the pane, but he made no move to go outside.
‘Gunshot!’ the guv’nor scoffed. ‘What in blazes would you know about a gunshot?’
‘There!’ The younger man pointed to the small twisted bundle lying halfway across yard. ‘What’s that?’
He came to the window, straining to see. ‘God Almighty! It’s Rosie’s lad.’ Running across the office, he flung open the door and raced down the steps. The clerk, a self-confessed coward, remained in the safety of the office. Watching from the window, he saw the other man run towards the boy. Before he could reach Danny, another shot rang out, forcing the older man to take cover. ‘Come back, you bloody fool!’ yelled the clerk.
But there was no way back without crossing the gunman’s sights. ‘Call the police… and an ambulance,’ came the reply.
As the clerk grabbed the telephone receiver, Adam’s car turned into the yard. The guv’nor saw him and ran round the back, approaching the car from another direction. ‘Go back!’ he cried, frantically waving his arms. ‘GO BACK!’
‘What the Hell’s the matter with him?’ Ned was the first to see him. But Adam was quick to slam on the brakes.
‘You’d best get out of here,’ the guv’nor told them. ‘There’s a bloody maniac out there. He’s got a gun, and he’s already shot the lad…’ His eyes grew wide with shock as he realised who he was talking to. ‘Ned Selby!’ He had expected Adam Roach, but not Rosie’s father-in-law. There was talk that he’d either gone abroad or died long since.
‘Anybody’d think you’d seen a ghost,’ Ned exclaimed as he and Adam climbed out of the car.
Adam glanced about the yard. ‘What’s going on in there, you say?’ he asked impatiently. ‘Spit it out, man, spit it out.’
He hesitated. Sweat was pouring down his temples as he looked from Adam to Ned and back again. ‘It ain’t your problem. It’ll be taken care of,’ he promised. ‘Police and ambulance are on their way.’ How could he reveal that it was Ned’s own grandson who was lying there shot, probably dead? His nerve failed him. ‘Get back in your car and turn it round. Get out of here, I’m telling you.’
Adam placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. ‘Calm down. We might be able to help. Now then… tell us exactly what happened here?’
It took only a moment for him to spill out the details of how he and his clerk had heard what sounded like a gunshot. They had looked through the window and seen a child lying in the yard.
Sensing there was more to it than that, Adam insisted he should show them. ‘And what was a child doing in the yard? You should have had more sense than to allow it.’ He knew the rules, and he was angry.
Ned and Adam were taken to a safe spot from where they could see what had taken place. The man pointed to the bundle. He looked at Ned, saying in a small frightened voice, ‘I don’t know how to tell you this but… it’s your grandson.’
Ned stared at him, a look of sheer horror crossing his features. It was Adam who spoke. ‘What are you saying? The child out there is Danny?’
When he nodded, Ned would have charged out. It was only Adam’s restraining hand that stopped him. ‘Easy, Ned. If the boy’s alive, we want him to stay that way.’ Incredibly calm but thinking fast, he addressed the guv’nor in a solemn voice. ‘You say the police and ambulance are on their way?’
‘Yes, I’ve told you.’
‘Who’s out there?’
‘I don’t know.’ With the flat of his hand he wiped the sweat from his face.
Now the question that Adam was afraid to ask. ‘And Rosie? Where is Rosie?’
Again, the man shook his head. ‘She and the lad came in for a load this morning, and I saw them leave the yard myself. I didn’t see them come back, and I don’t know what’s happened here. All I know is what you know.’
‘Came in for a load?’ Adam couldn’t believe his ears. ‘I think you’d better explain,’ he said in a hard voice.
The other man gave a sigh of relief when he heard the sound of sirens piercing the air. ‘They’re here,’ he cried, racing to meet them. ‘The police are here.’
‘I’m going out there.’ Adam moved forward. ‘I’ve got to get the boy… got to know that Rosie’s all right.’ Before Ned could stop him, he was already walking out, arms in the air as he went towards Danny. ‘I’M GETTING THE BOY,’ he called. There was no answer, so he kept walking, nearer and nearer, until now he was standing over the child. ‘Alright, son,’ he murmured as he took the limp figure into his arms. His heart lurched when the boy’s head dropped. There seemed no life at all.
‘STAY WHERE YOU ARE.’ Doug’s voice sailed across the yard. ‘I’VE GOT ROSIE. IF YOU WANT HER, YOU’D BEST COME AND GET HER.’ He laughed then, and it was the laugh of a maniac.
Adam was astounded to recognise the voice. ‘DOUG!’ He brought his arms up to give the boy more protection. All manner of emotions went through him. What was Doug doing here? Shouldn’t he be in prison? Why had he shot his own son? And why was he holding Rosie in terror? It was obvious he had lost his mind. ‘WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?’
Laughter again. Then: ‘YOU SHOULD KNOW, YOU BASTARD.’ His voice fell away. ‘You and her… cheating on me behind my back. I’m glad the boy’s dead. You’re next. Then her.’
‘You’re so wrong, Doug. Rosie has always been faithful to you. Let me take the boy, and I swear I’ll come back. It isn’t Rosie you want. It’s me. Don’t hurt her, Doug. Alright, I’m taking the boy now.’
‘MOVE ONE INCH AND I’LL CUT YOU DOWN.’ The shot rang out, hitting the ground before him. When Adam looked up, he was horrified to see Doug standing before him. Rosie was pressed to his side, with a length of twining round her throat, and a look of sheer terror in her brown eyes. Where the twining had cut deep, there was a smudged trail of blood. Weak now, she could hardly stand. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move. But through those lovely stricken eyes she told Adam everything he wanted to know. ‘Let her go, Doug,’ he pleaded softly. ‘She’s done you no harm. Neither has the boy. It’s me you want. You have to let them go.’ It broke his heart to see her like that. Now her eyes were on Danny, and she was softly crying.
‘Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ Doug sneered, tightening his hold on Rosie and making her wince. ‘You think I’m mad, don’t you?’ He took a step forward and cried out with pain. Neglect and rough living had turned his leg gangrenous. He knew he had nothing to lose. ‘I can’t let her go. She has to die.’ He aimed his gun at Adam’s temple. ‘But first she can see you and the bastard lying at my feet. It’s only right.’ His eyes narrowed as he prepared to pull the trigger.
Not far away, the police were closing in, ready to move. But the situation was fraught with danger, and one wrong move could end in tragedy. Adam saw them creeping forward. ‘Think what you’re doing, man,’ he said sternly, ‘Rosie and the boy, you have to let them go.’ If it wasn’t for them, Adam would have launched himself at Doug and taken his chances.
‘Say your prayers,’ Doug advised, grinning. ‘Are you watching, Rosie?’ Tugging on the twining, he made her cry out.
Incensed by her pain, Adam twisted sideways and kicked out with the intention of knocking Doug off balance. He caught Doug on the shin, causing him to double up in pain. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Ned’s burly figure crunched against Doug, sending him back with such force that Rosie was thrown sideways. Everything happened at once.
Gently taking the twining from round her throat, Adam cradled Rosie in his arms. ‘You’re safe now,’ he whispered. ‘You’re safe, sweetheart.’ Her smile was full of pain.
‘Danny?’ she whispered hoarsely. When Adam told her that her son was in good hands, her eyes closed in relief.
Behind them was chaos. Police emerged from every direction. Ned’s formidable weight had driven his son to the railway tracks, and now he was holding him down, pressing his back to the iron tracks.
Warnings were being shouted that the wagons were bearing down on top of them. He wasn’t listening. Instead, he was cursing his son for being the despicable person he was. ‘I can’t altogether blame you for what you are,’ he said finally, his voice and heart broken. ‘Happen if I’d been more of a father to you, none of this would ever have happened.’
Crippled with pain, Doug told him wickedly, ‘I never wanted you. It was my mother I loved, not you.’
Ned shook his head in despair. ‘And I hated her,’ he said simply. ‘Like you, she was a wicked creature. Never happier than when she was hurting others.’ The memory of all those wasted years with Martha was more than he could bear. Now the evil in her had been perpetuated in her son. Something inside him opened out to swallow him up. And, at long last, he knew what he must do.
The police were helpless. They saw Ned pin his son flat with the weight of his own body. As the laden wagons sliced through the two squirming figures, there was an odd murmuring sound, almost like a prayer, and then a shocking, deathly silence.
Adam was devastated and yet, in some strange way, he understood. Then he turned and went to Rosie. That was where his future lay. If only she would have him.