Live the Dream Read online

  Daisy was not impressed. There! See! You're taking the mickey now.' She thrust him aside. 'Get off! Go on, get off.' With only the trickle of moonlight through the window to light her way, she searched for the door. 'Which way is it?'

  'For God's sake, stop nagging.' Roy brushed himself down. 'This is the big man's office,' he imparted proudly. 'It's where he does all his business.'

  Taking her hand he led her quietly past the large, neatly ordered desk. 'He may look quiet, and a proper gentleman,' he muttered, 'but there's no denying he can make things happen when he wants. One minute we're running short of work and the next we're flush with new contracts.'

  Creeping along beside him, her hand fast in his, Daisy teased, 'D'yer reckon you can make things happen?'

  He chuckled. 'Give me a chance an' you'll soon find out.'

  'Be'ave yerself, yer randy dog.' She gave him a playful push. 'I didn't mean like that. I meant, d'yer think you could be as clever as he is?'

  Roy shook his head. 'Happen not. Y'see, there are them as were born to lead, and them as were born to follow, and I'm one o' the followers.' A serious note marbled his voice. 'But d'you know what? Lately, I've learned that if a man works hard and keeps his eyes and ears open long enough, he'll find summat worth going for…that extra mile, if yer know what I mean?'

  Daisy followed him through the door, and down the iron steps to the lower floor. 'No, I don't know what you mean.'

  Pausing on the step, he turned to her, his voice soft and his homely face creased in thought. 'It's like this,' he began. 'A man can slave all his life and not care to better himself. But if he finds a woman and a purpose, he might just discover that extra strength to lift himself above the rest.'

  Daisy was impressed. 'Are you saying you 'we found a purpose…and a woman?' she asked wonderingly.

  He smiled a quiet, sincere smile that touched her deeply. 'You know I have,' he answered. 'I've found you, and now I've got plans and ambitions that I never had afore. I want to be with the best. I want to be the one that men look up to.' He paused, his eyes shining into hers. 'Don't you understand, Daisy?' he asked. 'I need to make you proud of me.'

  Without a word she slid her arms round his neck and kissed him—not the passionate, wild kiss he was used to, but a softer, gentle kiss that meant more to him than she could ever hope to know. 'I am proud of you,' she whispered.

  For a long, beautiful minute he kept her there in his embrace, wanting never to let her go. Then he held her at arm's length and, with his usual cheeky grin, told her, 'Go careful down these steps, and keep hold o' me, or there's no telling where you'll end up.'

  Hand in hand, finding their way through the maze of boxes and pallets and piles of merchandise, they emerged towards the back of the building, where the brushes were assembled.

  'This is where you'll be,' Roy explained. 'Look!' Manoeuvring her, he positioned her in front of the machine. 'See them wooden bases?' He drew her attention to a dozen curved wooden brush-heads, ready for the bristles to be inserted. 'D'you know what they are?'

  Peering hard in the dimness, Daisy thought she recognised the familiar curving of the shapes. 'They look like the tops of scrubbing brushes,' she said, 'and I should know, 'cos there's never a day passed when old Ma Tooley didn't have me down on my knees scrubbing the damned floor.'

  'Yer right!' Roy laughed, but quietly, because they must not alert the night-watchman. 'Somebody's already put the shapes in place, but that'll be your job when you start. You take the shapes out of the boxes and fit them into the slots on the back panel, then you pack the bristles into the arm.' He pointed to a long metal arm open all the way along, but with short sides to keep the bristles in place. 'Then you work the machine and punch the bristles into the shapes…d'yer see?'

  He now drew her attention to the many small holes in the shapes. 'When you've done that lot, you take them out and pack them neatly into a box, until you've filled the box with six dozen scrubbing brushes, all smart and ready for the customer. Now then, Daisy, me darling, 'ave you got that all straight in your head?'

  Daisy took a moment to consider the workings of it all, before she gave her indignant reply. 'Course I have! I might not be the brainiest woman on God's earth, but I'm not the thickest neither!'

  Roy agreed. 'Right! So, yer well pleased then? You reckon you'd be happy standing here nine hours a day, punching bristles into holes? Mind! You'll get a fifteen-minute break morning and afternoon, and an hour between.'

  Daisy clapped her hands. 'I'm gonna love it,' she said. 'Better than working for that miserly, moaning old Tooley. Honest to God, I'm glad to see the back of her.'

  Having done what he promised, Roy now wanted what Daisy had promised him. 'Off with 'em!' he chuckled.

  Daisy played the innocent. 'Off with what?'

  'You know what,' he whispered.

  'No, I don't!' Stifling her laughter, she told him sternly, 'Anyway, we'd best get out of here, before somebody finds us.'

  'Why, yer little sod…' Playfully struggling her to the ground, he looked into her twinkling eyes, and gave a groan. 'Are you playing games with me?'

  She winked. 'I might be.'

  He kissed her tenderly. 'You know how much I love you, don't you, Daisy?'

  Her answer was to climb away from him, and when she had his full attention, she began to strip off, first her top, then her skirt and now her undies one after the other, slowly, teasingly.

  'I'm yours, if you want me.' Naked as the day she was born, she slid to the ground and, wrapping herself round him, began taking off his clothes, only this time there was an urgency that neither of them could contain.

  A moment later, with their clothes strewn about, they made love fiercely, possessively.

  There followed a few intimate moments when they held each other; they talked of their dreams, and their plans, and discovered a kinship they had never known before and oh, the contentment of being together.

  Then a moment of wonderful silence, before their passions overwhelmed them, and they began making love for a second time.

  It was Roy who noticed it. 'There's a burning smell!' He sat bolt upright. 'Bloody hell, Daisy, I reckon there's summat on fire.' Getting to his feet, he made a grab for his trousers. 'Can you smell that?' He sniffed the air. 'Stay here!'

  As he went forward, Daisy made a playful grab for his leg. 'Don't be daft,' she coaxed. I can't smell anything. If there's summat on fire, it must be you.'

  'Quiet, Daisy!' Her laughter disturbed him.

  For a moment he stood perfectly still, sniffing at the air, his ears cocked for any sound. Suddenly he was frantic. 'Get dressed!' She hesitated, preferring to tease him. 'Daisy! Get dressed NOW! There's a fire somewhere. I can smell it in the air.' Making a grab for Daisy's clothes he threw them at her. 'Hurry up!'

  While he quickly drew on his trousers, he glanced about. There was no sign of smoke, but he could taste it. He knew there was a fire somewhere and it wasn't too far away. 'I've an idea it might be that new boiler; we've had nothing but trouble with it. Look, Daisy, I want you to go back the way we came. Keep to the right as you go. Then up the steps to the office. Wait for me there. I'll just go and take a quick look.'

  Daisy was terrified. 'Don't leave me here,' she pleaded. 'I need to be with you. I'll stay close. Just don't leave me?' Having realised the urgency, she was now dressed and ready to follow him.

  With Daisy tagging on, Roy headed straight for the back area, where the boiler was housed.

  By now, the intruder was almost done. Because the boiler was too hot to get close to throw the petrol over, the rope was a means of allowing time to get out.

  With one end of the long rope tied to the handle of the boiler door, the other end was stretched out as far as it would go. Tipping the petrol can upside down, the arsonist doused this end of the rope until it was thoroughly saturated. With the rope being a simple soft twine, it would soon suck the petrol along its entire length, until it reached the boiler.

  Stepping back, t
he intruder gave a grim, satisfied smile. 'That should do the trick.' A lit match, dropped to the rope end, and a moment to make sure the flames were licking along the twists and turns, and then the intruder was fleeing.

  'Hey!' Roy rounded the corner just as the shadowy figure ran out of sight. 'Oh Jesus!' Seeing what was about to happen, he stamped at the flames with his feet. 'GET BACK, DAISY! GET AWAY FROM HERE!' Grasping the rope with both hands, he tugged at it with all his might, but it wouldn't budge and now there was no more time. 'RUN, DAISY! FOR GOD'S SAKE, RUN!'

  As they ran, the flames licked at everything around. The boxes of bristles were set alight; the billowing smoke was like a grey fog all around, hampering their getaway.

  'I can't see where I'm going!' Daisy began to panic.

  Roy called out, 'Stay calm. I'm right here. Keep to your right, Daisy…along the wall. Then up the steps. Daisy, are you all right? Take my hand…oh God! DAISY, WHERE ARE YOU?'

  Having already strayed from the path, Daisy had no idea where she was. She couldn't keep to the right, because she could feel no wall beside her; neither could she see more than a few inches ahead. So while Roy fled one way searching for her, she fled another until, stumbling against a steel contraption, she was flung headlong to the ground, and the contraption was toppled. As it fell, it caught the side of a stack of wooden boxes and sent the entire load tumbling down.

  Unwittingly, Daisy lay straight underneath and by the time she realised the danger, it was too late. She screamed once and no more, for the crates were tumbling down on her one after the other, until she was buried deep beneath.

  She did not hear the sound of the explosion; nor did she see the flames licking at the wooden crates. By this time, Daisy knew nothing of what was happening.

  Inside was mayhem; outside was panic.

  'I sent for the fire brigade as soon as I saw the flames.' The night-watchman was frantic as he and a passer-by tried hard to keep Roy from going back inside. 'They'll be here any minute.'

  Fighting like a tiger to free himself, Roy was frantic, 'I've got to find her!' Though suffering badly from the effects of smoke and fumes and with the flesh of one arm torn from top to bottom, his only thought was for Daisy. 'I couldn't find her,' he sobbed. 'All hell was let loose. I looked everywhere…oh, God! She ran the wrong way. I couldn't see her.' He tore at the two men. 'LET ME GO, YOU BASTARDS!'

  'What's happening?' Leaping from the fire engine, the first fireman came running towards them. 'Is there anyone inside?'

  'The lass!' The night-watchman and his helper kept a tight hold on Roy. 'He says there's a lass in there.'

  Just then, Roy broke free but was quickly hauled back by the fireman. 'Leave it to us, son,' he warned. 'It looks to me like the whole bally lot is about to come down.'

  Roy was beside himself. 'You've got to save her.' He was distraught. 'She's all I've got. Get her out. Please God…get my Daisy out of there!'

  The fireman understood. Already the hoses had been unrolled and the men were dashing towards the building. 'Listen to me.' He gave Roy a gentle shake of the shoulders. 'Trust me, son. We're trained for this sort of thing. If she's inside, then we're her best bet. We'll get her out. I can promise you that.'

  And then he was running after his men towards the building, which by now was like an inferno.

  Though the next few minutes stretched away like a lifetime to Roy and the others who watched, the first fireman kept his promise and soon emerged with Daisy's limp body.

  'DAISY!' Sick with relief, Roy ran to her.

  He ran beside the stretcher as they carried her to a waiting ambulance, and while he held her seemingly lifeless hand, he talked to her. But she did not answer.

  He could see her blackened face and burned clothes, and his heart sank like a stone inside him.

  He dared not believe what his eyes were telling him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  In the month following the fire, Luke Hammond had to fight tooth and nail to hold his business together. Today, the fourth of January 1934, brought yet another meeting. Luke needed to persuade an old colleague to help him through what was proving to be one of the most difficult times of his life.

  With Luke's help in the early days, Leonard Wrightson had climbed the ladder of success, but now, when the boot was on the other foot, he was not an easy man to deal with.

  'You know you can trust me.' Luke felt he had bandied words long enough with the portly man seated behind the desk. 'Christ Almighty, Leonard! Have you forgotten how I kept you going when others wouldn't even give you the time of day? I carried you when money was short. There were times when I had to wait weeks for my payment, and I bent my own rules to store your goods when the warehouse was already full to bursting!' Angry at being doubted, he paced the floor. 'There's no risk,' he reaffirmed, 'so why the hell you're hesitating I don't know!'

  The older man took out a cigar and, having lit it, he sucked hard on it while he studied Luke. 'You're not in danger of losing it all, are you?' he asked suspiciously. 'Don't tell me you were not insured?' Luke was not a man to neglect such an essential, but he did seem unusually keen to have him in his corner, Wrightson thought.

  Luke's anger burst. 'Well, of course I was bloody insured. You know what a stickler I am for things like that.'

  'In that case, you'll survive without my help.'

  'Maybe I will. Maybe I won't!' Striding forward, Luke pressed his point. With his hands spread out on the desk and his face so close that the other man instinctively shifted back in his seat, he explained, 'It's nothing to do with insurance or how much money I've got in the bank. That is not my main concern.'

  The fellow took another leisurely drag on his cigar. 'If it's not money, what is it then?'

  'It's my business we're talking about. Thankfully, I've got most of my customers behind me now, but there are others, much like yourself, who forget too easily and need more convincing.'

  Leonard was growing nervous. 'I hope you're not about to get nasty. If you are, then there's the door and you'd best leave right now, because I will not be bullied!'

  Realising he might appear menacing, Luke stepped back. I'm no bully,' he protested. I'm a man who's spent years of hard work building a business I'm proud of, and if I don't fight my corner now, there'll be nobody else to fight it.'

  Seeing how Luke was genuinely distressed, he had to admire his restraint, because if it had been himself that was in this position, he'd have smacked someone in the mouth. 'I can spare you a few minutes,' he said, 'but I'll promise nothing. So, if you're prepared to accept that, then I'm prepared to hear you out.' In fact, he was enjoying every minute of it.

  Encouraged, Luke went on. 'Like I say, the insurers have paid out, so there's no problems in that direction. If I can only keep my customers happy, I'll soon be on top again.

  On the practical side, I'm renting a sizeable warehouse while mine is rebuilt, and, thank God, three of the wagons went unscathed as they were out on deliveries, so as you can see, I'm just one wagon down, but I'll soon rectify that. You know me, Leonard,' he declared confidently. 'I never hang about.'

  'It's true,' he grudgingly admitted. 'You're one of the few men I know who can keep one step ahead of the competition.'

  'Oh, is that right?' Agitated, Luke banged his fist on the desk. 'So, if you know that, why the devil are you playing games with me?'

  Leonard Wrightson took another, longer drag on his cigar. 'The thing is…" he blew the smoke out of his nostrils, '…I've got strict deadlines to meet, and my own customers to satisfy. I'm sorry you've had this setback, but you'll come up smelling of roses.' He could not disguise his envy. 'You always do.'

  'I asked you what game you were playing, and now I'm beginning to see just what you're up to.' Luke snorted with indignation. 'You mean to set up against me, is that it?'

  Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, the older man answered hesitantly, 'I've been offered a large, empty warehouse at a fraction of its value. It's made me wonder whether I might b
e best off storing my own goods…and happen poaching a few o' your customers into the bargain. I could even go into the delivery side of it. After all,.I'm doing well in my own field, and I've got spare money enough to buy a couple o' wagons. Matter o' fact, I might even make you an offer for your three, if you're looking to sell.' He took another drag on his cigar. 'You started out small. What's to stop me from doing the same?' His smile was evil. 'You know what they say…all's fair in love and war.'

  As if he had been smacked between the eyes, Luke reeled backwards. He stared at Wrightson for a long minute thinking deeply on the other man's words. Then he saw what to do. Nodding his approval, he surprised Leonard. 'Why, there's not a thing in the world to stop you,' he answered. 'You're entitled to do what you please, and good luck to you, Leonard. I hope you do well.' He nodded in a friendly fashion. 'As there's nothing else to discuss, I'll bid you good day.'

  In an instant the other man was on his feet and chasing after Luke, who had already started his way towards the door. 'Hang on a minute. There's no rush, is there? I mean…we haven't finished our conversation.'

  Luke turned with a smile. 'Oh, I'm sorry, I thought we had.'

  Realising he might have just made a formidable enemy, Wrightson invited hurriedly, 'Look here, Luke. Come back and sit down.'

  'Thanks all the same,' Luke replied, 'but I've got things to do.' Smiling quietly to himself, he turned to leave.

  Puzzled and a little afraid, the other man asked, 'What are you up to?'

  'I'm not "up to" anything.'

  'So you're not intending to turn the tables on me and poach my customers, are you?' He was well aware of Luke's respected standing among the local businessmen. Also, the very fact that most of them had vowed to stand by him was proof enough of the influence he carried.

  Luke could almost read the other man's mind and he was delighted, yet when he answered, it was in a calm, cool manner. 'Like yourself, I cannot promise anything,' he said. 'I've already explained how I've worked long and hard to build up my business, and you know it isn't altogether the money. It's keeping alive what my father started many years ago…keeping it alive and building on it. I've always meant Hammonds to be the biggest company in this part of the world, and I mean to see it through…with or without you.' He paused before finishing, I'm not a devious man, but having said that, you can depend on me to do what I have to do, in order to get the business up and running full swing.'