Page 20

Chapter 19

Rory stepped down from the railway carriage onto the thronged platform at Lime Street in Liverpool, his breath fogging in the evening air. Mr McGovern had disembarked before him, and Alfie followed after, clutching a covered basket that contained three jars of what he had declared to be the best soup he had ever tasted. Steam hissed from the train as they made their way along the platform, jostled by the other passengers hurrying past them.

A day had passed since Alfie had turned up at Bewley Hall, and he was now dressed in sturdy boots and warm clothing appropriate for the winter season. Jack, of course, had been more than eager to help and had also pressed Alfie to take an extra pair of gloves. Not to be outdone, Gus had supplied a pair of his own gloves for Frankie, and together the boys had extracted a thick scarf from Emily’s belongings, which they knew she would be only too delighted to gift to May. Alfie had accepted these offerings in silent bewilderment.

Mrs Hawkins had fashioned a sling for him out of a strip of cloth, allowing his sprained right arm to rest against his ribs. He was carrying the basket with his left hand, but Rory noticed him struggling to keep it upright in the midst of the heaving crowd and hastened to relieve him of it. He checked beneath the cover to make sure the soup jars and woollen garments were still nestled safely inside, and then he and Alfie followed Mr McGovern to the railway station’s exit.

Beyond the exit, the smell of horse manure hit them, wafting from the row of hackneys that had lined up to take the train’s passengers onwards to their next destination. However, Mr McGovern had already determined that it would not be advisable to hire one of these. Penny Close was within reasonable walking distance and a vehicle like that would only attract unwanted attention in the neighbourhood.

Alfie knew the twists and turns of Liverpool best, so he scurried forwards to take the lead and they set off along the street. Darkness had fully fallen, though it was scarcely five o’clock, and a soft mist began to drift down around them, glistening in the glow of the gas lamps. Rory glanced at Mr McGovern as they passed through a pool of light – his shoulders were rigid and his mouth was set in an angry line. He had been incensed when Rory had divulged the reason behind Alfie’s unexpected presence at Bewley Hall.

‘Being a husband doesn’t grant a man leave to treat his wife like an animal,’ he had fumed, his fists clenched and wrath seething in his blue eyes.

He and Rory had agreed that it was vital to intervene, for Maud and her three children were otherwise defenceless. They couldn’t involve the authorities, who would only turn a blind eye to affairs of a domestic nature, and yet neither of them could stand idly by while Tommy’s violence reigned unchecked. Whatever the law might say, that family did not deserve to live under the heel of a brute.

When they neared the vicinity of Penny Close, Alfie’s pace slowed and he hunched his shoulders, peering about him covertly.

‘His shift shouldn’t finish until six,’ he muttered to Rory, ‘but sometimes the machinery breaks down so there’s no telling when he might get let off early.’ He cast a meaningful look down at his injured arm.

‘We’ll keep a watchful eye,’ Rory said, remaining vigilant for any sight of a short, stocky figure looming out of the mist.

Thankfully, they proceeded without incident. Just as they reached the entrance to Penny Close, Mr McGovern gave a low whistle behind Rory and Alfie, bringing them to a halt.

‘I’ll go first to check whether it’s clear,’ he said. ‘If Tommy happens to be in the street, he won’t recognise me.’

He sidled past them and around the corner into the top of the alley, then ducked his head back out. ‘It’s completely empty. Everyone’s probably staying inside out of this weather.’

They joined him and the three of them hurried down the narrow alley with its two lines of terraced houses. They didn’t approach Number 5, however; instead, they made for Number 4 on the opposite side of the alleyway. Its facade was identical, apart from the numerous scratches that marred the lower portion of its door. Alfie shot a furtive glance over his shoulder before rapping his knuckles on the wood. As they waited, Rory became aware that the mist, deceptive in its softness, had stealthily saturated their caps and coats.

The door opened, revealing a woman with silver-streaked hair escaping its pins in wild wisps and a faded shawl festooned with short, ginger-coloured hairs.

‘Alfie?’ she said in a reedy voice that contained astonishment and suspicion wrapped in a thick Liverpool accent.

‘Can I come in, Elsie?’ Alfie asked nervously. ‘And these fellas too? They’re decent people, I promise.’

Elsie emitted a ‘humph’ of scepticism, but she stood back and let them enter, shutting the door behind them. They found themselves in a room very similar to Maud’s, apart from one stark difference: a high-backed chair was situated in front of the fireplace and a ginger cat perched upon its backrest, glaring at them with unblinking yellow eyes.

‘Your ma’s been worried sick about you,’ Elsie said reproachfully.

Alfie winced. ‘I’m sorry—I didn’t want her to worry. But I had to go get help.’

‘Humph,’ Elsie said again. ‘And help comes in the form of this pair?’

She eyed them, letting her gaze drop to the floor where water was dripping from the ends of their coats and gathering in little puddles.

‘It does,’ Alfie said firmly.

‘Then why are you here and not across the way?’

‘We need to wait until we’re sure Tommy’s out of the house. Will you let us stay here for an hour or two so we can keep watch for him?’

‘Humph,’ she said for a third time. She tilted her head and frowned as though listening hard. ‘Fine, then. The admiral will allow it.’

Rory blinked, but Alfie seemed to accept this statement without question.

‘All we’ve got to do is stand guard at the window until he arrives,’ he said, ‘and be careful that he doesn’t spot us. Right?’ He glanced up at Mr McGovern.

‘That’s right,’ Mr McGovern said. ‘We’ll stick to our plan. I’ll take the first watch.’

He strode over to the single window by the front door and took up a position next to its peeling frame, twitching the thin curtain back just a sliver so that he could observe Number 5 across the alley. Knowing they might have to wait for some time, Rory set the basket on the floor, careful to avoid the puddles they had created. Meanwhile, Elsie shuffled over to the chair by the hearth and sank onto it, facing the fire. The cat immediately jumped down into her lap and she stroked its ginger fur.

‘That Tommy Jones is a bad man,’ she said. ‘But Maud married him, the poor wretch, and the law’s clear when it comes to a wife’s obedience. Even the admiral thinks there’s nothing you can do.’

‘We’re going to act outside the law,’ Alfie said in a valiant display of confidence.

‘Like your da?’ Elsie said tartly, without looking over her shoulder.

Alfie blanched.

Elsie tutted. ‘She’s a dear friend, but God knows that woman has chosen her men poorly.’

This time, Alfie bristled. He opened his mouth as though preparing to retort, but Rory shook his head at him. Their plan required Elsie’s cooperation – it made no sense to antagonise her. Moreover, the cat was staring at them from her lap, exuding a palpable air of malevolence.

Alfie gave a reluctant nod and instead said, ‘How’s Ma been faring since I left? I mean, apart from worrying about me. Has she tried to get up out of bed more?’

‘Not really,’ Elsie said with a sigh. ‘There’s been no further bleeding, but she’s still very tired and weak.’

‘And Tommy?’ Alfie asked, his tone uneasy. ‘What did he say about my disappearance?’

‘Oh, apparently he effed and blinded for a few hours, and then swore you’d better not darken his doorstep ever again or you’d get a hiding that would have you begging the grave digger for an early plot. He reckons you’ve followed in your da’s footsteps and gone to sea. He ordered Frankie to go to the printer’s and take over your newspaper deliveries.’

Alfie chewed on his lip. ‘And are Frankie and May—’

‘He’s here,’ came Mr McGovern’s low voice from the window. ‘Or, at least, a man fitting his description is approaching Number 5.’

Rory hastened over to the window and Mr McGovern stood aside to let him take his place. Peering past the small gap in the curtain, he discerned a figure stumping up to the door of Maud’s house through the misty gloom. He’d only met the man once but he recognised his stocky form.

‘That’s him,’ he muttered. Anger sizzled in his veins as Tommy disappeared inside the house – he itched to confront the brute and make him answer for his abuse. But they had formulated a sensible plan and, for the sake of Maud and her children, they needed to keep to it. ‘I’ll stand watch now,’ he said firmly.

Mr McGovern didn’t demur. He crossed back over the room to the basket and crouched to retrieve one of the soup jars from beneath its damp cover. Rising, he approached the hearth and held the jar out to Elsie.

‘Parsnip soup,’ he said. ‘A token of our thanks. It just needs to be heated up over the fire.’

‘You won’t believe how good it tastes, Elsie,’ Alfie said earnestly.

Rory couldn’t see the woman’s face but her wild hair was just visible above the back of her chair – it quivered like she was nodding, and Mr McGovern turned to place the jar on the mantelpiece. Rory returned his gaze to his slim view of the now-empty alley.

‘You reckon he’ll be about twenty minutes, Alfie?’ he said.

‘Yes,’ the boy replied. ‘He won’t care that Ma isn’t well. He’ll expect her to be up out of bed ready to put his supper on the table. As soon as he’s scoffed it down, he’ll head back out to meet his mates at the pub.’

‘And you believe he’s unlikely to return for a couple of hours?’ Mr McGovern asked.

‘At the very least,’ Alfie said. ‘There’s been plenty of nights when he hasn’t come back until near midnight.’

‘Well, we won’t gamble as far as that.’ Mr McGovern’s voice was grim. ‘The quicker we can accomplish this, the better.’

The cat let out a soft hiss and after that the room fell silent. Rory kept his eyes trained on the closed door of Number 5, imagining the scene within – Tommy wolfing down his supper while Frankie and May endeavoured to stay out of his way, a pale Maud hovering nearby to wait on him when she was the one who really needed looking after.

He tried not to think too closely about the fact that this was the woman his father had had the gall to wed while he was still married to Rory’s mother. There was no point in overcomplicating the situation. Maud was just a woman in distress, desperate for help that he was in a position to give. His mother would surely understand.

He continued to stand motionless by the window, the musty smell of wet wool rising from his coat and his collar clammy against the back of his neck. Outside, the mist thickened into a heavier drizzle and rivulets of water began to trickle down the window panes. What if the bad weather deterred Tommy from going out to the pub as usual? Would they be obliged to wait until he left the following morning to start his next shift at the foundry? Rory doubted whether Elsie or her cat would be eager to tolerate three house guests for the night.

A glimmer of light suddenly bloomed across the alley and he snapped to attention as a hunched shape emerged through the doorway of Number 5, silhouetted by the candlelight within. Rory breathed a sigh of relief as Tommy plodded away up the alley. The door closed after him and the light vanished.

‘He’s left the house,’ Rory reported to the others without taking his gaze from the window.

‘Very good,’ Mr McGovern said. ‘As discussed, we’ll wait at least ten minutes to make sure he doesn’t return for some unexpected reason.’

Rory heard a quiet click and guessed that Mr McGovern had pulled out his pocket watch to check the time.

‘Well, well, it looks like we have a toff in our midst, Admiral,’ Elsie murmured.

Rory felt offended on Mr McGovern’s behalf – the man didn’t deserve such an unwarranted insult. But he said nothing and so Rory didn’t either, although he found himself wondering whether Elsie took advantage of her eccentric facade to get away with saying whatever she pleased.

The next few minutes crawled by, punctuated only by the faint ticking of the pocket watch and an occasional disgruntled meow. Nothing stirred out in the alleyway, boosting Rory’s confidence that Tommy had by now settled himself at the pub with a pint in front of him.

‘Ten minutes,’ Mr McGovern said at last. ‘Shall we proceed?’

‘Good luck with your unlawful scheme,’ Elsie said cheerfully, and Rory glanced over to spot her wispy hair disappearing from sight as she nestled deeper into her chair.

Mr McGovern snapped his pocket watch shut and tucked it away, while Alfie scurried to pick up the basket. Rory joined them at the door and caught one final glimpse of the cat’s baleful glare before they slipped out into the alley.