Part 33 (1/2)

'An only child gets spoilt, 'specially if it's a gel,' the old man commented. 'Yer wanna 'ave a few boys. It shouldn't be no trouble fer Bella, she's wide in the girth.'

Frank nodded, thinking that the old man was getting her mixed up with one of his horses. 'She'll be wanting to get back to the stage as soon as she can,' he told his father.

'I wouldn't be in too much of an 'urry ter let 'er get back if I was you, Frank,' George said sternly. 'She'll 'ave ovver responsibilities now. Yer muvver never left you an' young Geoff. She was a good woman.'

Frank nodded sadly and clenched his hands under the table. It was always the same when his father had too much drink inside him. He pushed back his chair. 'I'd better be off if I'm going to get the last train,' he said quickly.

George did not look up as his son bade him goodnight. The whisky was beginning to depress him and his mind was already dwelling on an unpleasant matter.

Christmas came and went. There was little festivity in the Tanner household. Nellie had been very quiet and moody. As she sat in the parlour her eyes would constantly stray to the photograph of James, which she had shrouded with a piece of black velvet, and the Christmas card which Danny had sent from his rest camp. William had gone to the Kings Arms on Christmas morning to sit with Daniel Sullivan and Fred Dougall, their thoughts far removed from Yuletide revelry. The piano player sipped his beer and played in subdued fas.h.i.+on, while around the bar eyes glanced furtively in the direction of the three sad men. Alec and Grace Crossley served up pints and chatted quietly with their customers, aware of the silent grief prevailing in the little bar. There was no bawdy laughter, and unlike other Christmas mornings no one stood beside the piano and sang in a strident voice.

Carrie felt it had been the most miserable Christmas she had ever known and was glad to get to work once more. She had been hoping that Charlie would be home in time for Christmas but he had been too ill, and with her vivacious younger brother away as well the house had seemed deathly quiet. Her mother's strange behaviour had been puzzling her, and as she served teas and took the orders for food on her first morning back Carrie was lost in thought. She continually served up the wrong food and forgot to relay orders to Fred, receiving more than a few frosty looks from the impatient customers. Fred had not failed to notice how distracted she was, and when the cafe emptied took her quietly to one side.

'Yer seem miles away, Carrie. Is everyfing all right?' he asked her gently.

She nodded and forced a smile. 'It's jus' bin a miserable Christmas,' she said. 'I'll be all right termorrer.'

William was busy in the newly built small stable, replacing a bandage on one of the Clydesdales. The ma.s.sive horse had kicked out while in the shafts the previous day and had damaged a back tendon, causing the yard foreman an awkward problem. The two Clydesdales pulled a heavy dray which hauled rum kegs from the London Dock to Tooley Street, and they always worked as a team. He had to choose whether to pair the other horse with one of the Welsh cobs or else send it out with a single-horse cart. William had decided that it might be wiser to give it a rest from heavy hauling until its partner had recovered and so the Clydesdale was harnessed into the small van.

All day long the ma.s.sive horse trudged around unfamiliar streets, driven by a carman who was more used to the sprightly cob and who became increasingly impatient with the heavy horse's constant plod. Neither the whip nor the carman's blasphemous tongue intimidated the animal which trudged on in its usual way, missing its partner and the smell of rum as the dray was loaded on the quay. The small cart it was tethered to now was hired daily to transport treated leather from a Long Lane tannery to various leather workers, and the ma.s.sive horse was hardly aware of the two-ton load it was pulling. The impatient carman did not appreciate that the Clydesdale was built for power and not speed. Normally he would hurry around his regular deliveries, picking up a few coppers in tips on the way, and then spend a spare hour in a local coffee shop before returning to the yard. With the Clydesdale there was no spare time left at the end of the day, and it was almost five o'clock by the time he drove the van into Jamaica Road.

There was one more stop the carman always made before driving into the yard and that was to buy a paper from Solly Green and exchange a few words with the grizzled ex-boxer who always stood at the top end of Page Street. The carman normally slung the reins across the back of the Welsh cob, and it would not set off until it felt him stepping on to the shafts as he climbed into the d.i.c.ky-seat. He had never used the wheel-chain with the cob, and did not think to anchor the wheel on this occasion. The Clydesdale was not used to waiting with slack reins and it leaned forward to test the resistance from the chain. The carman realised his mistake too late. The horse had smelt the stable and it set off, eager to dip its nose into the water trough and settle down in fresh straw.

William had finished parking the carts and as he crossed the yard he suddenly saw the Clydesdale clopping down the turning with its reins trailing on the cobbles and the carman running behind, trying to catch it up. The yard foreman's first thought was to grab hold of the reins and slow the animal in case anyone got in its way. He raced from the yard and reached the beast just as the carman grabbed at the reins, making the horse veer towards the kerb. The nearside shaft caught William full in the chest and he was thrown violently on to the pavement. The carman quickly managed to stop the cart and rushed over to the gasping foreman.

'I'm sorry, Will. It took off on its own,' he said fearfully as he bent over him.

Florrie Axford had heard the commotion and was outside in a flash. 'Don't touch 'im!' she shouted at the frightened carman. 'I fink 'e's broke 'is ribs.'

William was ashen-faced as he staggered to his feet, holding his chest. 'I'm all right,' he gasped, racked with a knife-like pain as he breathed. ''Elp me indoors, Flo.'

The carman was sent to fetch Doctor Kelly. Meanwhile Nellie and Florrie eased the injured foreman into a chair and removed his s.h.i.+rt with difficulty. The elderly doctor soon arrived and looked stern as he gently prodded and pushed.

'You're a lucky man, Tanner,' he announced as he finally stood up straight. 'You've got a couple of cracked ribs. It could have been much worse. I'll put a tight strapping on. It'll ease the pain, but you'll need to lie up for a couple of weeks.'

That evening Frank Galloway looked in on his way home and seemed sympathetic as he chatted with William. 'Don't worry, we'll get Mitch.e.l.l to take over for a couple of weeks. You just take it easy,' he said as he left.

The fire had burned low and the ticking of the clock sounded loudly in the quiet room. William had been helped up to bed earlier and was sleeping fitfully, propped up with pillows. Carrie had finished the ironing, cleared out the copper grate and laid it ready for the morning before going off to bed herself, leaving her mother sitting beside the dying fire. Nellie frowned and chewed her lip as she stared at the glowing embers. It seemed strange seeing Galloway in the house, she thought. In all the years her husband had worked at the yard, this was only the second occasion a Galloway had graced the house with his presence. The first time had been many years ago now and it was the memory of that visit which filled Nellie with loathing for George Galloway. Fate had decreed that the lives of the two families would be interwoven from the very beginning, and now the threatened union between Charlie and the Galloway girl felt like a cord tightening around her neck to choke the life out of her. She could never allow it to happen, whatever the cost.

At eleven o'clock the following morning George Galloway made his second visit to the Tanner household. He looked tense in his heavy worsted overcoat with the astrakhan collar pulled up close around his ears. His face was flushed, and he leaned on a cane walking-stick as he removed his trilby and ran a hand over his grey sleeked-back hair. He refused the offer of a seat and stood beside the table instead, looking down at William as he reclined in an armchair.

''Ow's the ribs?' he asked, frowning.

'Painful,' William replied, knowing instinctively that the time had come.

'I'm sorry ter 'ave ter tell yer, Will, but I've got ter put yer off,' Galloway said. 'We're finally gettin' the lorries, an' the 'orses'll 'ave ter go. I'm givin' yer two weeks' wages an' a little bonus.' He put a sealed envelope down on the table.

Nellie looked at her husband and saw the blank expression on his pale face, then she stared up at Galloway, her eyes hardening. 'Couldn't yer wait till Will was on 'is feet before tellin' 'im?' she said cuttingly.

Galloway returned her hard stare. 'I would 'ave done, Nell, but I need the 'ouse. I've got a motor mechanic startin' in two weeks' time an' 'e'll need a place ter live.'

William looked up dejectedly at the bulky figure which seemed to fill the tiny room. 'Yer not givin' us much time,' he said.

Nellie was shocked by her husband's quiet manner and felt cold anger rising in her own stomach. 'Is that all yer've got ter say, Will?' she complained. 'Yer've bin a good servant fer more than firty years an' now yer bein' chucked out o' yer job an' yer ouse, an' all yer can say is, ”Yer not givin' us much time.” Christ, I can't believe yer can be so calm!'

William looked appealingly at his wife. 'We knew it was gonna come,' he told her. 'What d'yer expect me ter do, beg fer me job?'

Nellie turned her back on her husband and glared at Galloway. 'Two weeks. Two weeks ter clear orf after 'e's done a lifetime's work fer yer,' she said bitterly. 'Years of lookin' after those 'orses an' keepin' yer business goin', an' that's all the time 'e gets. Yer a cruel, unfeelin' man, Galloway. Yer jus' use people. Yer taint everyfing yer come near. I'll be glad ter be done wiv yer, by Christ, an' I'm glad my Will won't 'ave ter be at yer beck an' call any longer. Yer not welcome 'ere, so I'd be obliged if yer left.'

Galloway walked to the door and turned suddenly. 'It'll be fer the best,' he said, a dark glitter in his eye. 'I wish yer good luck, Will.'

Nellie turned away as Galloway walked out, and closed the front door behind him. She flopped down in the chair facing her husband and lowered her head, covering her falling tears with her hands.

'It's not fair,' she groaned. 'Yer should 'ave told 'im, Will. It's jus' not fair.'

'Life's not fair, Nell,' he said quietly. 'I've always done me best an' I couldn't do more. I wasn't goin' ter plead fer me job, it'd make no difference anyway. 'E's always bin 'ard. I dunno, p'raps it's the life 'e's 'ad. There's jus' no compa.s.sion in the man.'

'But yer 'ad no start in life yerself,' she reminded him. 'Yer was a waif the same as 'e was. At least yer didn't turn out like 'im, fank Gawd.'

Her body shook as she sobbed bitterly. She knelt down by her husband's chair and dropped her head into his lap. 'What'll we do now, Will? Where can we go?' she sobbed.

He winced as the pain started up again in his chest. 'Don't worry, gel. We'll get a place,' he said softly. 'I'll go an' see 'em at the estate office in Jamaica Road in a day or two. They'll 'ave somefink fer us, I'm certain.'

'What's Carrie gonna say?' Nellie asked, looking up at him. 'An' what about the boys? Charlie's gonna be 'ome soon, an' young Danny, please Gawd. This is the only place they've ever known.'

William did not answer. He stroked his wife's head as he looked around the tiny room, feeling as though the floor had fallen away from him. It wouldn't be easy to get a job at his age, he realised, and there wouldn't be many empty houses like the one they were living in at the moment. The alternative was too bad to think about. He sighed deeply as he stroked Nellie's long fair hair, unaware of the secret anguish she was suffering.

Chapter Thirty-seven.

Ten days later William Tanner walked slowly back along Page Street, his chest still heavily strapped and his head hanging down. He had tried all the local estate offices and the only choice he had been given was a two-bedroomed flat in Bacon Street Buildings. It would have to do for the time being, he told himself. Nellie and Carrie were not going to be very pleased but the only alternative was the workhouse and that was unthinkable. It might not be too bad once the women put some curtains up and cleaned the place. Nellie knew a few of the people who lived in the buildings and it was only around the corner from Page Street. It could be worse, he thought.

Nellie was standing at the door, and as he approached her knew by the look on his face that her worst fears had been realised. Her eyes met his and his answering nod needed no clarification. She could see how dejected and tired he was and her heart went out to him.

'Sit yerself down, Will. I'll get yer a nice cuppa,' she said consolingly. 'It won't be so bad. It'll do us fer a while, anyway. We'll get somewhere better before long, you'll see.'

She had just poured the tea when there was a loud knock. She heard a deep chuckle as William opened the door and then Sharkey Morris walked into the room.

''Ello, gel. 'Ow the b.l.o.o.d.y 'ell are yer?' he asked, his thin, mournful face breaking into a wide grin.

Nellie poured him a cup of tea as he made himself comfortable. The irrepressible carman looked enquiringly from one to the other. 'I 'eard the news from one o' Galloway's carmen,' he told them. 'What a b.l.o.o.d.y dirty trick! I 'ope the 'oreson chokes on 'is dinner ternight. After all those years yer bin wiv 'im. I'm glad I got out when I did.'

William smiled and stretched out his legs in front of the fire. 'It's nice o' yer ter call round,' he said.

'I was pa.s.sin' by an' thought I'd drop in. I've gotta pick up a load o' corned beef from Chambers Wharf so I left the cart at the top o' the turnin',' Sharkey explained. He paused for a moment. 'I was very sorry ter 'ear about Jimmy. I understand young Charlie's on the mend though,' he added quickly, seeing the sad look on both their faces. 'I expect Danny'll be 'ome soon as well, please Gawd. Anyway, the reason I called round was, I thought yer might like a bit of 'elp wiv yer removals. I can use the cart, long as I let ole Sammy Sparrer know.'

'Well, that's very nice of yer, Sharkey,' Nellie said, patting his shoulder fondly. 'We're movin' inter Bacon Street Buildin's on Friday.'