Thomas Jenkins was finding the build-up to Christmas very busy. The pub was full and people were shouting their orders. At times he worried that all of his demons might return and he wouldn’t be able to cope, but he knew he had to for his children’s sake. Since working he had managed to keep them at bay, but he knew they were never far away.
George was up one end of the bar serving drinks as fast as he could. This pub didn’t have a snug where old ladies could sit on their own; if any came in they had to share the bar with all the others. The thought of trouble like the first night he’d started work was never far from Thomas’s mind, but fortunately only a few times since then had they had any bother. Usually it was all over by the time he was ready to go home. He was pleased with himself at being able to hold down this job. At first he had felt so insecure, but he had Beth to thank for getting him started. Working at the Royal Albert had been a big step for him.
Thomas’s face lit up when he caught sight of Mrs Bell and her lady friend walking in. Mrs Bell certainly was a handsome woman.
He smiled at her and the woman she was with; he hoped she hadn’t told her friend what had happened on last Saturday afternoon. George had asked him to work the lunchtime shift and Thomas’d been pleased to see Mrs Bell walk in. After he’d finished work he’d offered to walk her home. He remembered what Ruby had told them about her lovely flat but was still taken aback by the beautiful things she had.
‘Sit down, Thomas,’ she said, smiling.
He sat on the velvet-covered sofa.
‘There’s an ashtray there if you fancy a smoke. I’ll just get us a drink.’
He had watched the way she moved when she left the room. He knew she would have long slim legs under that hobble skirt. He did wonder why she lived in these terrible buildings, but she must have a reason.
She came back and sat next to him. ‘Here’s your drink. You’re a very handsome man, Thomas Jenkins.’
‘You have a lovely place here,’ he said, sheepishly looking around. ‘I can remember our Ruby telling us about it. She said it was like a palace, and she’s right.’
‘Why thank you. I do rather a lot of entertaining.’
‘Thomas! For Christ’s sake, wake up.’ One of the customers was waving a glass under his nose. ‘Twice I’ve asked you for a pint.’
‘Sorry, Bill. I was carried away.’
‘You will be if I don’t get me beer.’
Tom was trembling. Tears were stinging his eyes. He had run his fingers along the rough concrete ledge a dozen times till they were sore, but his money had gone. Who could have taken it? Mr Cox was the only name that came into his head. ‘I’ll kill him. I will.’ But how could he accuse him of pinching his money when it wasn’t really his? ‘But I need it more than him,’ said Tom to himself. He suddenly felt sick as he began to realise how those poor women must have felt when they found their purses missing. Did any of ’em get a beating from their old men? But the moment of insight didn’t last long. Tom was soon thinking about the money, again. He couldn’t give it back. He had to get it off Cox. Tom knew he was up the pub as he had seen him go out earlier. He would have to wait till tomorrow to ask him. But what if he wouldn’t give it back? And what if it wasn’t him? If it had been his dad or Ruby, they would have been full of it; no, it had to be old man Cox. Anger filled him. He must have seen me bring the box in here, he thought.
The banging on the door frightened him. ‘Tom? Tom, are you all right?’ Ruby was outside the door.
‘Yes. I’ll be out in a minute.’
‘You’ll freeze to death out here. So hurry up.’
‘All right.’ He heard Ruby running back indoors and shutting the washhouse door. He took his box outside and threw it in the corner of the yard.
Towards the end of the evening Thomas’s heart sank when he saw Mrs Bell and her friend walk out with two strapping blokes, who, with their docker’s hooks in their wide belts, looked very frightening. The women were laughing and giggling like a couple of schoolgirls.
She hadn’t even bothered to say goodnight.
He began collecting the glasses.
‘Cheer up, Thomas,’ said George.
‘I’m a bit tired, that’s all.’
‘It has been a bit of a night. Still, next week you’ll be with your family round a cosy fire.’ George began wiping down the tables.
‘Won’t be much of a Christmas this year, not without Mary.’
‘Yer, it’ll be hard for you. Chuck me another cloth, this one’s soaked.’
As he washed the glasses, Thomas’s thoughts drifted back once more to that Saturday afternoon. After Mrs Bell had given him his drink she had asked him if he was comfortable. He had just nodded.
‘Thomas. If you feel the need for a woman, I will always be of service, that’s my job.’
He laughed. ‘I couldn’t afford you.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you could, but sometimes I can be, shall we say, very accommodating.’
It was then he suddenly realised he didn’t want to rush things. He stood up. ‘I think you are a very handsome woman, and I could get very fond of you.’
That was when she had laughed at him and made him feel a fool. ‘Oh, come off it. I ain’t the type you take home to your family, now am I?’
He picked up his hat. ‘I’m sorry. I only wanted to see you home, just to make sure you got here safe.’
She lit a cigarette and blew the smoke high in the air. ‘Thomas, I’ve been looking after meself since I was nine years old. I know all the wrinkles and how to get what you want out of life. The reason that I live in this block, this glory hole’ - she pointed to the front door - ‘is because I get it free from a punter. That way all the money I earn goes on the things I want and not on rent.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Thomas.
‘No, it’s me that should be sorry. I should have guessed that you would still be in mourning. But you see, I like you, and I thought I could help cheer you up.’
He smiled. ‘Perhaps some other time.’
‘Yes,’ she said, opening the door.
As he walked home he thought of Ruby. What would she say if she knew her father had been to Mrs Bell’s place? This was something he would have to keep to himself.
Tom tossed and turned all night.
‘I shan’t be sorry when you’re in Dad’s room,’ said Ruby the following morning. ‘You’ve been a right fidget all night. What’s the matter with you?’
‘Nothing. A bit excited, I suppose. It’s Christmas Eve!’
Ruby felt her heart sink. ‘Tom, I’m so sorry. I don’t think there’s anything to get excited about. We’ve only got the pork chops Mr Cox gave us for Christmas. We ain’t got a pudding or anything fancy.’
‘It’s all right. I’ve got you a little present.’
She couldn’t bear to puncture his enthusiasm. ‘Look, I’ve got to get ready for work. Make Dad a cuppa, will you?’
As soon as he’d finished chopping the wood and doing the errands for Milly, Tom raced to the coal yard. The thought of bringing home a chicken was uppermost in his mind and he didn’t want to miss the gang. He was relieved to see they were still sitting talking.
‘Yer late,’ said Freddie.
‘I had some other things to do.’
‘Are they more important than the gang?’
Tom looked at his boots and shook his head.
‘Right,’ said Freddie. ‘After last night I think we’d better move on ter new territory. I thought we might give the market round by the Blue Anchor a go.’
Ginger took a quick intake of breath. ‘That’s Alfie Anderson’s patch.’
‘So what?’ said Freddie.
‘He can be very nasty,’ said Ginger.
‘I know. So can I when I need to.’
Tom knew he must be visibly shaking. He couldn’t tell them that he didn’t want to go. He was terrified of Alfie Anderson.
Freddie stood up. ‘OK. It’ll be the same as we always work.’
‘When we gonner get these chickens?’ asked Tom.
‘Not till ternight. We’ve got ter wait till the blokes come out the pub stoned out their minds and all the old dears are hanging about waiting fer their old men and somefink cheap. That way the butcher and his boy will be so busy pulling the birds down ’e won’t notice when a few of ’em go missing.’
‘Is it safe?’ asked Harry.
Freddie grinned. ‘’As been all the years me and me dad’s been doing it. Now ’e’s inside I told me mum I’d take over.’
Tom felt sick. He didn’t want to be here. All the money he’d had had gone. He knew now that it wasn’t worth it. He felt guilty. He had let Ruby and his dad down. He had to get away from Freddie Porter and his gang, but how? Would they beat him up now he knew about their gang? How could he get away?
As they were marching out of the coal yard somebody called to them, ‘Oi, you lot. What you up to?’
Tom looked round and then realised the others were running away.
‘Come back ’ere, yer little buggers.’
Tom took this opportunity to run in the opposite direction to the gang.
‘Look where you’re going, Tom!’ said Beth as he rounded the corner and almost fell over the pram. ‘What’s wrong, you’re as white as a ghost.’
He burst into tears.
Beth quickly put her arm round his shoulders and pulled him close to her. ‘What is it?’
He couldn’t speak. All the exhilaration at his exploits over the last weeks left him. He was angry, upset and full of guilt.
‘I’d better walk home with you. Is your dad home?’
Tom shook his head.
‘In that case you’d better come back to the pub with me. It’ll be opening time soon.’
Slowly they walked along. Beth was wondering what had happened to upset him like this. She wouldn’t question him in the street, but his sobs were pitiful to hear.
When they reached the pub she went from the back out to the bar. ‘Can you manage for a while without me?’ she asked Mr Thompson.
‘What’s up?’
‘I’ll tell you later.’
‘Don’t be too long.’
‘No, I won’t.’
Beth hurried back to Tom who was sitting playing with Danny.
‘Now, young man. I want you to tell me what’s the matter. I haven’t got a lot of time as I’ve got to go into the bar.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Tom stood up.
‘Sit down.’ Beth’s voice was forceful.
Tom did as he was told.
‘Well?’
Tears sprang to his eyes as he told her everything that had happened. Beth didn’t interrupt till he had finished. Tom blew his nose. ‘I wanted to give the money to Ruby. I wanted her to have nice things. I wanted to buy her a frock so she can go to her mate’s wedding in something nice, not always wearing other people’s left-offs. And I wanted us to have a nice Christmas even though we ain’t got Mum.’
Beth thought her heart would break. She went to him and held him close against her.
‘Beth. Beth! Hurry up!’ Mr Thompson was shouting from the bar.
‘Look, I’ve got to go. Stay here and look after Danny for me. We’ll try and sort this out, don’t worry. We’ll find out who took your money, but remember, you stole it in the first place, so . . .’ Beth shrugged. ‘Don’t worry,’ she repeated. She kissed the top of his head and left the room.
Tom sat on the floor and looked round the room. They had decorations, plenty of them. He looked at Danny’s toys. ‘You’re a lucky little boy, you’ve got lots of nice things. I was gonner buy you a bar of chocolate for Christmas.’
Danny toddled over to Tom and gave him a small horse. ‘Horse. Horse,’ he said, and fell on his bottom.
‘Have you got a cart we can fill up?’
He gave Tom a cart but said, ‘Horse. Horse.’
‘This is a cart. Say “cart”.’
‘Horse. Horse.’
Tom laughed, then stopped. He hadn’t laughed in a long, long while.
Chapter 23
Beth had told Mr Thompson that Tom was looking after Danny, as she knew he worried about him when she was behind the bar. The thing that had been uppermost in her mind lately was that soon she wouldn’t be able to leave her son in his pram, he was getting too big. Although he was just in the passage, she spent a lot of time looking out of the door to make sure he was all right. He was usually very noisy and restless, and although he was strapped in he could tip the pram over. She needed someone to keep an eye on him; she didn’t know what she’d do if anything happened to him. He was more than the apple of her eye, he was her life. She had nobody but him. Her family was something she would rather forget. When she and Len sat quietly together in the afternoons she had gradually told him the truth about her past and her fears. She’d admitted that she’d run away from home when she was very young, and that she hadn’t been married to Danny’s father.
‘So you’re not a widow,’ Len had said.
‘No,’ she’d whispered. She’d been worried he would hold it against her, but he’d told her he wasn’t interested in her past. Perhaps on New Year’s Eve she could get Tom to come and look after him during the lunchtime shift. Evenings weren’t a problem as Danny was in bed and fast asleep before she went down. In fact she could do with Tom every Saturday and Sundays: they were the only lunchtimes she was in the bar. She would ask Tom. She knew he could do with the money.
Beth’s thoughts went back to Tom and why he was here. She was confident he had told her everything and suspected he was right that Mr Cox had taken his money. It was going to be difficult to accuse him though, with the money being stolen in the first place; Mr Cox was no fool and was probably aware of that. Tom must have been desperate to do a thing like that. She knew how easy it was to get in with the wrong crowd; she had been born into it, and she didn’t want her son to finish up the same way. Would Mr Cox go to the police? When he walked into the bar, it took Beth all her energy to be polite to him. Her smile was fixed on her face like a mask.
‘Looking forward to Christmas?’ she asked him.
‘Not really,’ he said, taking the froth off the top of his glass and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Young Ruby does her best but it ain’t the same since her mother went. I told her she should find herself a rich bloke, then we would all have decent meals.’