Live the Dream Page 16

  'I know that now,' Roy said. 'She's better than I deserve, and I'll try never to let her down again.'

  'Oh no, that won't do!' Jack cautioned him. 'If you want to keep her, you'll need to do more than "try".'

  For a while, the two of them walked along, their heavy boots clattering against the flagstones and their minds filled with private thoughts.

  'What about Amy?' Roy asked presently. 'It looked to me as though you were making a good impression there.' He grinned mischievously. 'Fond of her, are yer?'

  'More

  than fond,' Jack replied, his voice dropping to a whisper. 'To tell you the truth, I reckon I'm falling in love.'

  Roy whistled. 'Bloody hell, Jack. Steady on!'

  Reluctant to discuss Amy any further, Jack skilfully changed the subject. 'So? You really want to make a go of it with Daisy then?'

  "Yes, I'm hoping so. What's wrong with that, eh?'

  'So you're determined to mend your ways, are you?'

  Taking offence at Jack's comment, Roy brought himself and Jack to a halt. 'What's the matter with you? What are you getting at?' Though he already had an idea of what Jack was referring to.

  'You've some shady friends, that's all,' he said.

  'What about 'em?'

  'D'you intend to carry on seeing them?'

  'Not all of 'em, no. I'll admit I've met some devious devils,' he confessed, 'and I know they got me in more trouble than I could handle, but they're long gone. I don't hear from them, and I don't want to.'

  'But what about the one who lives down your street?' Jack persisted.

  'mean Don Carson?'

  Jack nodded. 'Will you go on seeing him?' Roy almost always confided in him, so he knew Roy still paid him a visit now and then. He also knew that the fella was a close pal of Arnold Stratton, the man who had been gaoled for badly beating Luke Hammond's wife.

  'I know what yer thinking: that I might get Daisy involved in summat bad, and that Don Carson is every bit as evil as Stratton. Well, he's not all bad. He's a rough diamond, sure enough, with an eye for dodgy deals and fast women, but he's tried to go straight so many times. Trouble is, he's easily tempted. One time he was even going to settle down and get married. I don't know what went wrong, but I reckon Don just couldn't manage the responsibility. But he's been a good friend to me, helped me when I was down, and I'll not snub him now.'

  The irony of mentioning Don's former fiancee to Jack in this way did not escape Roy, but it wasn't Amy he was defending.

  Always wary, Jack warned, 'I know it's none of my business, Roy, but if you're as serious about Daisy as you claim, then you need to think long and hard about this: the truth is, the company you keep might well turn out to be the company Daisy will keep. Don't forget that.'

  Given food for thought, Roy remained silent until he and Jack parted company at the bottom of Penny Street. 'Are you seeing Amy tonight?' he asked of Jack.

  'I'd like to,'Jack answered, 'but she and Daisy are doing "girlie" things—and don't ask me what that might be, 'cos I don't know.'

  Roy suggested it might be something to do with Daisy telling him she was having her hair trimmed. 'I told her I liked it the way it was,' he said, 'but it didn't seem to matter what I thought.'

  Jack laughed. 'Never interfere with a woman and her hair,' he advised. 'It's one of those mysterious things men are supposed to know nothing about.'

  'See you in the morning then?'

  'You will.'

  'Good night then.'

  'Good night,' Jack called after him. 'And don't be late!'

  While Jack's journey home to the top end of Penny Street was a mere ten minutes or so, it took twice that long for Roy to get to Johnson Street.

  By the time he closed the door to his bedsit, it was already going on for seven o'clock.

  A sparsely furnished part of a large Victorian house, his living accommodation consisted of one long, wide room, the bottom of which was curtained off as a bedroom.

  In the bedroom part was a narrow bed, a sturdy if unattractive chest of drawers, which also served as a dressing table, and a chair that, with well-worn, dipped seat and sagging upholstery, had seen better days.

  The rest of the room was furnished with a grubby old sofa, a small table with drop-down leaves and barley-twist legs and, standing proud on top of a tall slim cupboard, a handsome wireless.

  There was also a horsehair-stuffed armchair, from which a multitude of black bristles protruded, and a green rug covering a greater part of the linoleum floor.

  To one side of the room was a makeshift kitchen, consisting of a gas stove and a cupboard. There was a small wooden pantry containing a packet of tea, a half-used bag of sugar, a small uncut loaf and a pat of butter. The hinged drop-down lid served as a worktop. The bathroom, which was situated out on the landing, was shared with four other tenants.

  The flat wasn't much, but it was his home and, sparse though it was, Roy considered it to be far more welcoming than the one he had shared with his parents. But that was a long time ago. He had always intended to better himself, but as yet he had not encountered the fortune he believed was waiting for him round every corner.

  After washing and shaving, he devoured a cheese sandwich with a mug of tea, then he sat on the chair with his feet up on the table and, eyes closed, listened to the evening music on the wireless.

  He was tired yet excited. He thought of Daisy and he couldn't sit still, so he put on his coat and departed the building.

  Don Carson lived on the same street, just a few doors away. Roy visited him often, but had not seen him since he met Daisy again. Tonight he could hardly wait to tell him about his new girlfriend.

  After Roy's three knocks on the front door of Don Carson's humble abode, Don answered the door.

  Unshaven and wearing only his vest and trousers, he looked as if he'd just got out of bed. 'Oh, it's you!' Running his hand through his tousled hair, he stepped back to let Roy shove past. 'You'd best come inside,' he invited wearily.

  Having followed Don along the passage and into the back parlour, Roy threw himself into a chair. 'What's up with you?' He observed how tired the older man looked, and how he was neither shaved nor properly dressed. 'I've never seen yer look such a mess!'

  'Well, thanks, that's all I need!' Taking a long, noisy sigh, Don explained, 'I've been out all day, looking for work, but soonever I mention I've been in gaol, they don't want to know.'

  'Why don't yer lie to 'em?'

  'What's the use o' doing that?' the other man asked. 'They'd find out sooner or later.'

  'Work for yersel' then.'

  The other man sat down, his sharp eyes trained on Roy. 'Oh, yeah, doing what?'

  'Don't ask me,' Roy shrugged. 'You've allus found summat in the past. Rob a bank or summat.' He laughed at his own suggestion. 'That's it,' he cried jubilantly. 'Rob a bank, why don't yer?'

  'Don't be so daft, man!' Don snapped. 'I wouldn't know the first thing about robbing a bank. That's right out of my league. Besides, the last thing I need is to get thrown back inside. I've had enough of gaol to last me a lifetime.'

  'D'yer want me to keep my eyes and ears open?' Roy was eager to make amends. 'They sometimes take folk on at building sites with no questions asked. I'll mek a few enquiries if yer like?'

  'Thanks all the same, but I don't fancy working outdoors…' Don chuckled. 'Being in the nick seems to have spoiled me. Still, I'm not destitute yet,' he claimed. 'I do a bit here and there—buying and selling and such—but it won't last for ever. And lately it hasn't brought in the money, so I will need to get permanent work. I know that.'

  Thinking about gaol, Roy asked, 'Do you still visit Arnold Stratum?'

  'Course I do!' Don answered angrily. 'I'm not one to abandon a mate in trouble.'

  Ready to change the subject,he regarded Roy with a degree of curiosity. 'Talking about Hammonds—as we kind of were—you seem to be settling down really well there.'

  'Aye, an' I'm doing all right,' Roy revealed. 'I reckon if I
stay on the straight and narrow, I might even be up for supervisor afore too long.'

  Don laughed. 'Bugger me! You really are knuckling down.' He wagged a finger. 'There's got to be a girl involved somewhere,' he declared with a grin. 'That's it! You've got tangled up with some girl and gone all broody.'

  Blushing to the roots of his hair, Roy said, 'All right, don't get too clever.' His face creased in a smile. 'Her name's Daisy and she's a good sort.'

  'Daisy, eh?' Don made an expression of approval. 'And do you intend settling down with this Daisy? Is that the reason for your sudden enthusiasm in working for a living?'

  'And what if it is?' Roy asked sharply.

  The other man apologised. 'Don't tek it so serious,' he said kindly. 'I were only joshing. Matter o' fact, I'm interested in a certain woman meself. Smart as a tack and twice as handsome.' His grin widened. 'The name's Helen…' he laughed again, '…or so she says, but I've a feeling she's lying, for whatever reason.'

  'What! You mean you don't know her real name?'

  'It's not her name I'm interested in,' Don replied with a wink. 'Besides, it's not a serious thing…not like you and this Daisy. We're just having a bit o' fun, if you know what I mean?"

  From his friend's manner and the way he was looking at him, Roy sensed there was more. 'Have I met her?'

  'Nope.'

  'Am I going to?'

  'Not if I can help it, no.'

  Roy began to understand. 'She's wed, isn't she?'

  'She hasn't said, and I'm not asking,' came the reply. 'All we want is a good time. Like I said, we're not looking to settle down. It makes no difference to me one way or the other. She arrives, we play around, and then she goes. And that's the way I like it.'

  Roy was curious. 'Can I ask you summat?'

  'You might as well. You've done nowt else since you got here. So, what else do you want to know?'

  Roy took a deep breath. 'D'you know a young woman by the name of Amy Atkinson?' He had been curious ever since Daisy told him that Carson was Amy's ex-fiancé.

  There was a long, unsettling pause, during which Roy thought he should never have mentioned it, because now the other man was staring at the floor as if he'd gone into some sort of trance.

  Eventually Don looked up, his expression surprisingly soft. 'Yes,' he nodded. 'Amy and me were once engaged to be wed. How do you know her?' he asked sharply. And before Roy could answer he added quietly, 'You're not messing with her, are you?"

  'No, I'm not messing with her, as you put it,' Roy was quick to explain. 'And neither is Jack.'

  Carson was suddenly alert. 'And who might Jack be?'

  Roy thought he might have touched on a jealous streak. 'Jack and Amy are seeing each other,' he said. 'I don't know how serious it is, but I have to say, they do seem to have hit it off together.'

  There was another moment of silence, before the other man remarked softly, 'As long as he looks after her, it's none of my business.' Looking Roy straight in the eyes, he explained, 'Like I say, we were engaged to be wed. In fact, we got as far as booking the church and all that stuff.'

  'I see. And what happened then? Why did you never get wed?'

  'I hadn't told her I'd been in prison, and it got as I couldn't tell her. I was trying so hard to go straight when I met Amy, and she was part of that—something good to aim for and live up to. But I set my sights too high. I got to realising I could never keep it up, and one day my grubby little past would all come out, or I'd let her down and fall into my bad old ways. I'll allus be a drinker and a two-timer and a ruffian—I know that now. I liked her mam and dad too. I couldn't hurt them all. I kept putting off mekking the break. Then suddenly the wedding was just a few days away and I had to do it before it was too late.

  'Luckily they all work long hours so I know they're not around Blackburn much during the week, but I've been very careful to avoid anywhere I might bump into them.'

  'Crikey!' Roy thought it must have taken some guts to back out of a wedding as close as that. 'And have you no regrets?'

  'Well, of course I have! Amy's a lovely person, as good and kind as the day's long. I hurt her bad by trying to avoid hurting her even worse.' He took a minute to remember.'That's what I regret most.'

  Suddenly he was on his feet, and demanding in a harsh voice, 'So what's this Jack like?'

  'He's all right,' Roy told him. 'He won't hurt her. You've no need to worry on that score.'

  Roy's answer seemed to calm him. 'How did they meet?'

  The and Jack were out on the town when we just sorta met up with Amy and Daisy. Then another time, we met up again.' He wisely made no mention of his own shameful part in that first meeting. The and Daisy get on like a house on fire. In fact, we're even talking about getting wed.'

  Don laughed at that. 'You didn't mention me to Amy, did you?' he asked then.

  'Nope.'

  'Don't!'

  'Why not?'

  'Because there's no point. When I left her in the lurch it was a cruel thing. I'm not proud of what I did. What's done is done and can't be undone, so keep your mouth shut.'

  'Don't worry, my lips are sealed.' And he meant it.

  Carson glanced at the clock. 'You'd best soon make tracks,' he said. 'I need to get washed and changed.'

  Roy understood. 'Got a woman coming, have yer?'

  'I might have,' Carson admitted, 'so you can bugger off and make yourself scarce.'

  'Helen, is it?' Roy licked his lips teasingly. 'I might like to introduce myself.'

  Carson laughed. 'I thought you were already gone, on your new girlfriend?'

  'I am. I've met the one I want, and she's more than enough.'

  'Just as well then, because Helen's a different kettle of fish altogether. I doubt if you could even move in her circles.'

  'Oh, I see…a rich bitch, is she?'

  Smugly, Carson nodded. 'Rich, handsome, and needing to be satisfied on a regular basis, if you understand my meaning?'

  Coming across the room he threatened to manhandle Roy out of the door. 'I've told you, I need to get washed and changed. Sometimes she gets here too early and catches me in the rough. I don't like that. I have my pride like any man.'

  'All right, keep your shirt on. I'm leaving, I'm leaving.'

  As he went he told Carson from a safe distance, 'Enjoy yourselves, and don't worry about me. I'll call round tomorrow and you can give me a full account.'

  'Sod off!' Carson gave him a final shove out the door. 'Get and find your own entertainment,' he suggested with a sly little chuckle.

  As Roy crossed the street he was almost run down by a cab in a hurry. 'Watch where you're going!' Roy yelled as the taxi passed by. 'You nearly 'ad my bloody feet off then!'

  When the taxi slowed down, Roy considered tackling the driver for his carelessness. Instead his curiosity was aroused when the taxi came to a halt outside Carson's place.

  The woman who stepped out of it was exactly as Carson had described: well-dressed and well-built in all the right places, she was more than a cut above the rest.

  But there was something else about her that intrigued him, yet for the life of him, he couldn't think what it was.

  He watched her walk up the path, and he saw her knock on the door, and now, as she seemed to sense him there, she turned and smiled at him.

  It was then that he realised who she was, and he could hardly believe it.

  'My God!' Excitement coursed through him. 'It's Luke Hammond's sister-in-law?

  He had seen her twice; once when she came to bring Hammond some documents from the house, and once when she came to collect her sister, Sylvia, who had come looking for her husband and thrown a tantrum when he was out on business.

  He continued to watch her. Even before she had turned back towards the door, Carson was there to usher her inside.

  Still reeling from the shock, Roy hurried away. 'It's just as well Carson doesn't know who she is,' he decided. This rich bitch really was roughing it.

  He gave a whistle. 'I wonde
r what Arnold Stratton would say if he knew Carson was mixing with a Hammond?'

  As he walked on, shock soon turned to amusement. 'Luke Hammond's sister-in-law, roughing it with a man like Carson!' He rolled his eyes. 'By! It's a turn-up for the books, and no mistake!'

  Unable to contain himself, he made his way straight to Jack's place. The small house in Penny Street was furnished better than he himself could afford, a step up from his own humble abode.

  'I thought I'd seen the last of you till tomorrow.' Jack was just beginning to settle down for an hour of music on the wireless, before getting an early night. 'Tea or coffee?' he asked, inviting him inside.

  'Ain't you got nothing stronger?'

  'No.'

  'Coffee then. I can't abide tea…especially not when you make it. I put up with enough dish-water at the factory,' he grumbled, 'I don't see why I should put up with it in my own free time.'

  'That's where we differ, you and me,' Jack informed him.

  'Is that so?' Always at home in Jack's place, Roy sat himself down. 'And how d'you mek that out?'

  Turning to answer, Jack paused at the kitchen door, 'Because you tend to see your time at the factory as being forced on you, in order to earn a living.'

  'Too bloody right I do!'

  Understanding Roy's point of view, Jack admitted, 'There was a time early on, when I felt like you…hated getting up in the morning and seeing it as precious time wasted, but now I see it in a different way.'

  Roy had always known there was more to Jack than met the eye, so he wasn't surprised to learn he had a plan. 'So, what changed?' he wanted to know. 'How d'you see it now?'

  Jack answered in simple terms, 'I used to see it as me working for somebody else and making them well-off. Now though, I look on it as all good experience…it's learning time, in preparation for my own business. The more I learn, the better I'll be, and the better I am, the quicker I'll get somebody to believe in me…say a bank manager, or a backer who'll take a risk on me.'

  Roy nodded in agreement. 'By! If I had the money,' he declared boldly, 'I'd back you myself.'

  'Honest? Would you?' Knowing Roy's wicked sense of humour, Jack never knew when to believe what he said. 'Or are you just having me on?'