Kay Brellend 3-Book Collection: The Street, The Family, Coronation Day

Alice felt sick at knowing it, and immensely relieved. ‘I’ll do what I can for your family, promise,’ she choked out through the painful lump in her throat. ‘There’s vacancies in Turner’s. I’ll ask the supervisor if you like; put in a word about your dad getting a job. You can earn well on nights.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Me mum’ll do what she can for Margaret too, I know it.’

They passed an alley and Alice’s step faltered. She tugged Geoff towards it and down the narrow path then looked up at him earnestly. ‘Got so much I want to say to you,’ she gasped out. ‘Don’t know how. Don’t know how to say thanks or sorry or anything. I know I’ve not always been fair to you.’ A rosy bloom warmed her cheeks. ‘We could’ve been proper sweethearts sooner. I know that’s what you wanted and it’s not too late.’

‘Thanks for the offer.’ Geoff raised a hand to her face and cupped it tenderly. ‘But I got a train to catch. Ain’t got time for no canoodling with you, Alice Keiver.’

She flung herself at him, hugging him fiercely about the neck.

‘Ain’t risking getting you in the family way, much as I’d like to take you up on it,’ he whispered against her soft hair. ‘I ain’t me brother, remember it. I love you and when I come back for you it’ll be with a wedding ring.’

Alice plunged her mouth against his, trying to show him how much he meant to her and with sweet restraint he kissed her back.

‘Make it up to you when you come back on leave, I will,’ she said with a watery smile.

‘I’m gonna keep you to that … so do you want to change yer mind?’ Geoff asked hoarsely whilst a finger trembled, outlining her lips.

Their eyes locked and Alice felt a thrill ripple through her. She shook her head and went on tiptoe so their faces were close.

‘Love you, I do,’ she whispered, then plunged her mouth firmly on his. ‘You’re the best friend I ever had,’ she murmured against his cheek when their mouths had parted.

Geoff gazed deep into her eyes and a tinge of sadness was in his voice as he croaked, ‘Yeah … I know …’

‘Just come by to see how you’re doing.’

Tilly had cautiously opened the door a fraction, peeped around it, then let Jeannie in.

‘You look better than expected, all things considered,’ was Jeannie’s verdict once she’d given Tilly the once-over.

Tilly grunted a humourless laugh and instinctively probed at her tender cheek with her finger. ‘Just brewed. Want one?’

Jeannie nodded and took the tea. ‘People are gonna be asking why you’re in the state you are. Best give ’em an answer rather than let them find their own.’

It was sensible advice. Tilly knew that she and Fran couldn’t hide indoors for many weeks till their faces healed.

‘It’s well-known round here that I done a runner a while back. Well-known too that you was well ‘n’ truly narked about it. Good enough reason for a fight between us, I reckon.’

Tilly chuckled faintly. ‘So how come you got off so light? I’m known as a bruiser and you ain’t got a mark on you.’

‘Caught you at a bad time, didn’t I?’ Jeannie replied. ‘On an evening when you was legless.’

Tilly’s smile faded and she looked away. She knew if she hadn’t been drunk when Jimmy turned up things might have turned out differently. She’d not been able to think straight or defend herself when he’d crept up to her door. Yet Jimmy was dead now and she couldn’t but be thankful for that. ‘I was pissed alright, so we’re halfway there.’

‘When I go I’ll call you a few choice names and make it seem we’re still at loggerheads. A bit of pushing ‘n’ shoving outside might be useful. Old Beattie’s on watch, so let’s give her something to look at. Your sister will need her own story. How’s she look?’ Jeannie tacked on the end.

‘Bad; nose is broke and her belly needs to be stitched. She won’t go to hospital. Best not to anyhow. Doctors’ll be suspicious.’

‘I know a quack who’ll take a look at her. No questions.’

‘Why you doin’ all this for us?’ Tilly’s fierce demand flew through her fat lips. ‘I let you have a poxy blouse, that’s all. Weren’t nuthin’ special.’

‘Were at the time,’ Jeannie said succinctly and sipped from her tea. ‘Where I come from we return favours best we can.’

‘I take it your bloke got the body took away.’ Having received a nod Tilly muttered with a frown, ‘How d’you persuade him to get involved in something as bad as that?’

‘Usual way,’ Jeannie returned dryly.

Tilly chuckled until her cuts smarted.

‘We was sweethearts way back, when we was little more’n school kids,’ Jeannie explained. ‘Then I chose the wrong bloke and married Gordon Robertson instead of Johnny. Regretted it ever since. Johnny seemed a rough handful and Gordon seemed a charmer, but he turned nasty early on. By then Johnny had gone away. I hadn’t seen him in fifteen years when we run into each other and hooked up again. Lucky it was that he never married.’

‘Sounds like he never got over you. You must have him right round yer finger for him to do what he done that night.’

‘Nah; weren’t nuthin’ for someone like him. Getting corpses shifted … just another day at the office for Johnny Blake.’

‘You know what it’s like to take a beating, don’t you,’ Tilly stated quietly.

Without a word Jeannie took off her smart jacket and opened her silk blouse. She moved her camisole aside exposing a breast … or what remained of it.

Tilly stared at the shrivelled scarlet skin and then raised sorrowful eyes to Jeannie.

‘Me husband. Used an iron on me. Reckoned I’d been flirting … showin’ off me tits.’ She buttoned herself up again. ‘I’d took it all up till then. Left with the boys the same day though I was fainting in pain. Kept going though till I got here.’ She finished her tea and put the cup down on the table. ‘Fuckin’ good job actually that Johnny’s an arse man.’

Chapter Twenty-One (#ulink_5ecf9df5-19a0-556e-83da-fde8886034dc)

‘So you can’t suggest where your husband is or what might have happened to him in his absence?’

‘Already said, ain’t I, he’d left me. We’re separated. Don’t know nuthin’ about what he gets up to no more. Don’t care neither. You can ask anyone round here if you don’t believe me. They all knew he’d cleared off to that tart Nellie Tucker.’

‘Why wouldn’t I believe you, Mrs Wild?’ Constable Bickerstaff tapped his pencil on his notebook. Swiftly he started writing. He flicked a look up at Fran just as she cast an appealing look towards her sister.

Tilly was sitting at the table, nursing a cup of tea.

‘You heard what she said. If you want to know about Jimmy, best get yourself down Finsbury Park and question Nellie,’ Tilly suggested harshly.

‘We intend to,’ Constable Franks said. ‘We’ve come first to inform next of kin.’

‘You just said you ain’t sure it’s him you’ve found. Me sister might not be next of kin in that case.’

Ralph Franks coloured slightly beneath his colleagues’ withering look. He’d jumped the gun on that one and he knew it. He coughed. ‘That’s right. We’re not sure. It’s a headless corpse …’ He hesitated as he saw Mrs Wild gag. He received another glare from Bickerstaff.

‘The man had obviously been in a fight and had been stabbed. He looks to have been your husband’s size and height. He had a distinctive tattoo on his left arm that’s still visible,’ Constable Bickerstaff interjected. ‘A snake … your husband had a tattoo like that as I recall, Mrs Wild.’

‘Lots of men got snake tattoos,’ Tilly butted in and put an arm about her sister’s heaving shoulders. ‘Get going, will you. You’ve upset her now and it might not even be for a good reason.’

Twitch stared thoughtfully at his notes while he pondered on making the request. The body wasn’t a pretty sight. It had obviously been in the water for weeks. He knew too that what the women had said about Jimmy Wild and the tart was true. He could recall the street fight that had gone on between these two women and Nellie Tucker when Jimmy had first started knocking about with the prostitute. He decided to ask the question. ‘Would you be able to identify your husband’s body from that snake tattoo, Mrs Wild?’