The Liverpool Rose (44 page)

It was at this point that Clem broke in. ‘We’re searchin’ for a pal of mine who might well be aboard the Trelawneys’ boat,’ he said, trying to keep his voice steady and matter-of-fact though the information the two men had given had struck yet another chill into his heart. ‘That’s why we’re on the canal making for Leeds and not enjoying our Christmas back at the ‘Pool. We’re wanting to get my pal away from those Trelawneys before they get her involved as deeply as themselves.’

‘Her? D’ya mean it’s a gal?’ Freddie said, his eyes widening. ‘Dear God, you want to get a move on, ’cos their reputation wi’ women is as bad as their reputation for stealin’ other men’s goods. What’s a gal doin’ wi’ the likes of them anyroad?’

‘She may not even be with ’em,’ Jake struck in. ‘But the more I hear, the more I suspicion the lad’s right. Look, we’re goin’ to stick to the Leeds and Liverpool ’cos it’s what we know, but we’ll set off right now, ’stead o’ waitin’ for the light. If they’re headin’ for Leeds, they’ll be slower than us at locks and swing bridges ’cos Lizzie’s norra canal woman and she won’t be as fast as an experienced gal would be. What’s more, their old Boxer ain’t a patch on our Hal where pullin’ and endurance is concerned. So seein’ as a tug is a good deal faster than horse-drawn, perhaps it might pay us to join forces, with us stickin’ to the Leeds and Liverpool and you tryin’ all the cuts and side canals along the way. If we do that, one of us is bound to catch up with them. You’ll take Lizzie
aboard the tug and bring her to us, if she’s with them?’

‘Aye, surely we will,’ agreed Alf. ‘Well, if we’re going to retrace our steps and search the side canals, young Freddie, we’d best get a move on.’

At this point, Priddy joined Jake on the deck of
The Liverpool Rose
. She had clearly been listening to their conversation as she dressed herself in her outdoor gear for she said briskly: ‘But how’s we to keep in touch, so’s we know if one or other of us finds
The Singing Lark
? And we can’t arrest them two big blokes, ’cos we ain’t the scuffers, and besides we’d be no match for Abe and Reuben.’

‘You’ve gorra point, Mrs Pridmore,’ Alf admitted. ‘Tell you what, if you catch up with ’em first, get your gal off and then make for the nearest police station. We’ll do the same. The scuffers will ring around and we’ll check as we go along. When we reach Leeds we’ll wait for you down by the wool wharf, so’s we know where we stand.’

It wasn’t the best plan in the world but it seemed to cover most eventualities, Clem thought as he waved goodbye to the tug and went to fetch Hal from his stable. With the two boats searching, he was actually beginning to feel that one or other of them might catch up with the Trelawneys before the worst – whatever that might be – had occurred. He realised, of course, that there was no guarantee Lizzie would be aboard – indeed, he prayed she was not – but he was becoming more and more convinced that there could be no other explanation.

By the time he returned to the canalside with Hal geared up for pulling, Priddy was handing out steaming mugs of cocoa and great doorsteps of bread with fried egg and bacon sandwiched between them.
‘We won’t stop for our midday,’ she said grimly, handing out the food. ‘It were a good idea to send the tug to search other routes, but it’s my belief we’ll catch up with them first, either today or tomorrer. I don’t believe those two fools will be able to keep their noses out of the ale jug for longer’n a couple o’ days, and once they get to drinkin’ they’ll want to moor up so’s they can do the job proper. So come along, young Clem, get Hal moving and we’ll be on our way.’

‘If only the bleedin’ snow would stop and we get along faster,’ he muttered as he took his place beside Hal’s head. ‘Still, what’s bad for us is worse for them. Poor old Lizzie, though. I reckon this will put her off canals for life!’

‘Are you goin’ to be long in there?’

Geoff was shaving, half his face still thickly covered in lather, the other half clean and smooth. He grinned as Reggie popped his head round the door, replying soothingly: ‘No, I shan’t be two ticks. I’m meeting Sally after breakfast and we’re going down to the canal to see if there’s been any news from Clem. Why?’

‘Because it’s bacon and egg for breakfast and I thought we might do something together, if you’d nothing better planned,’ Reggie said, a trifle disconsolately. ‘Boxing Day’s always a bit flat, somehow, but there’s the panto at the Empire Theatre – we could go along there, see if there’s any seats still unsold.’

‘I think you’d better count me out, old feller,’ Geoff said, trying to sound regretful. ‘As you know, I had me Christmas dinner with Mr and Mrs Bradshaw and they’ve invited me back to finish up the cold meat today.’

‘For a feller who started off sweet on Lizzie and then swapped to Evie Evans, you’re showin’ a remarkable interest in Sally Bradshaw,’ Reggie grumbled. ‘Ain’t one girl enough for you?’

‘Sally and me’s very worried about Lizzie,’ Geoff replied with dignity. ‘Well, we’re not as worried as we were, truth to tell. Clem’s a trustable sort of feller and he was sure enough that she’s aboard a canal boat to go chasing off in pursuit of her, so Sally and I
reckon she’ll be safe and sound aboard
The Liverpool Rose
by now and probably tucking into as good a dinner as you’ll get anywhere. One of the canal people – a gal called Jenny Finnigan – told us that, since they’re laden, they’ll pick Lizzie up and continue on to Leeds. They’ll probably send a telegram tomorrow, when the Post Office is open again, letting us know all’s well.’

‘And what about Evie Evans?’ Reggie asked suspiciously. ‘You’ve forgot all about her, I daresay?’

Geoff, who did feel rather guilty about Evie, drew his razor so sharply down the side of his face that he nicked the skin and yelped as blood began to pump out. ‘Now look what you’ve done!’ he said crossly, pressing a tuft of cotton wool to the wound, then snatching if off again and splashing off the last of the shaving soap with handfuls of cold water. ‘You’d best go and find yourself someone else to play with because I’m going to be busy all day. And furthermore,’ he added frostily, ‘I
haven’t
forgotten Evie Evans, whatever you may think. Sally says she reckons I’ve been searching in the wrong places, so this afternoon we’re going to take a look round an area I’ve not searched.’

Reggie sighed, but agreed he’d best go and find Steve Jones, who was also at a loose end, and presently Geoff, dressed in his best, set off for Burlington Street and Cranberry Court.

As soon as Geoff arrived in Cranberry Court he asked Sally whether Uncle Perce had yet put in an appearance, but she shook her head. ‘The house is quiet as a grave. No one’s visited, no one’s gone in or out – unless they did it in the middle of the night – since the day Aunt Annie died,’ she said positively.
‘Mr Grey’s never been popular – in fact he were well hated – and there’s more than one who’s suspicious about how Aunt Annie came to slip on ice when everyone had been so careful not to tip water when they carried it back from the tap. The trouble is, everything stops for Christmas so I suppose the scuffers are leavin’ their investigations until the holiday’s over. Of course, when Lizzie comes home . . .’

But at this point Mrs Bradshaw announced that dinner was on the table and very soon the family were tucking in to cold goose, ham and baked potatoes, and the subject of Uncle Perce and his whereabouts was dropped, for the time being at least.

Later that afternoon, Sally and Geoff set off through the whirling snow which still continued to fall for a wander around the places of entertainment which were open on Boxing Day. ‘You tried all the dance halls, picture houses and big stores when you were looking for Evie,’ Sally had observed earlier. ‘I know you said she was smartly dressed and seemed to know her way around, and I imagine Sid would go for a sophisticated sort of girl rather than a quiet, studious one. So this afternoon we’ll go to the theatres and concert halls, and see whether we can run her to earth there.’

Geoff was doubtful, but did not say so. The more he got to know Sally, the more he liked her, and the more reliance he placed on her practical common sense and knowledge of people. She had not seen Evie, however, with her smart little hat perched at an angle on her glossy black hair, those tottering high-heeled shoes and that straight tight black skirt. She had not looked the sort of girl to waste her time on either carol services or concerts, but Geoff had to agree that these were the sort of places he had never previously considered, and they were worth a try at least.

Accordingly, they visited some theatres where the crowds were gathering before a performance, then went to St George’s Hall where ‘The Christmas Oratorio’ was being performed. They saw a great many smartly dressed men and women, but though Geoff scanned their faces eagerly he saw no sign of Evie Evans.

They were about to turn away, Geoff actually suggesting that they might try the Philharmonic Hall, when a crocodile of school children, all dressed alike in navy overcoats, with felt hats pulled well down over their brows, began to file past. Geoff was not looking at them, but suddenly got the feeling that someone was looking at him. Glancing at the nearest girl, he saw that she was smiling at him. She looked vaguely familiar and he supposed she must have come into the bank at sometime or possibly have lived near him when he was at the Branny. In fact, he was about to turn away when something in those dark, almond-shaped eyes touched a chord in his memory and he realised that, incredibly, this was Evie Evans!

There was no opportunity to speak to her, of course. One girl in a long line can scarcely be winkled out for private conversation with a young man, no matter how respectable, and Geoff had enough sense to realise that to try would put him in a bad light and probably get Evie into awful trouble. Sally, however, was a different kettle of fish. Geoff seized her arm and muttered in her ear: ‘Sally! That girl, the one with the long black plait, it’s her! Pretend you recognised her and go and have a word. Try to arrange a meeting – I’ve gorra know what’s being going on. See if the school will let her out to have tea . . . say anything, but don’t let her go and disappear again!’

Sally was nothing if not quick off the mark. She
took in Geoff’s words and without waiting to argue or question him further dashed across to the girl with the long plait and caught her by the arm. Geoff could not hear what passed between them, but he saw an older woman in a nun’s flowing habit, who had been at the back of the line, walk briskly forward and fall into step with Sally who was walking alongside Evie, talking earnestly. The nun clearly asked her what was happening, but Sally’s answer seemed to satisfy her for the three of them continued to talk for a further five minutes while he kept well back, wondering anxiously what was going on.

Presently Sally broke away from the line, bobbing a little curtsey to the nun, and came towards Geoff, not rejoining him, however, until the crocodile of school children was out of sight. Then she grabbed his arm and began to hurry him towards St John’s Gardens. ‘I’m not sayin’ nothing till we’re somewhere quiet,’ she hissed. ‘I tell you what, though, it’s a good thing that Evie’s quick on the uptake or I could have been in an awful mess.’

Geoff longed to ask her why but did not say a word until they were brushing the snow off one of the slatted wooden seats under the bare-branched trees in the Gardens. Only then did he turn to Sally, agog to hear what had happened.

She took a deep breath and began to speak. ‘Evie’s in the top form at that Convent school and talking about taking up a musical career. Apparently she’s an awfully good pianist,’ she said bluntly. ‘She remembers you, all right, and your pal from the YMCA, but she said she’d been in such trouble over Sid Ryder that she’d nearly been slung out. I asked her what happened that night – the one you met her – but the nun came up before she could tell me. Anyway, I did
what you said and suggested a meeting – oh, I forgot to say I pretended to recognise her from when she lived in the courts – but she didn’t think it could be arranged. I dunno what happened that night, but it were pretty clear the nun didn’t trust her and were keeping a close watch on her. In the end, she said I could go round to the orphanage and Evie and I could have a bit of a crack about old times in the common room.’ She smiled up at Geoff. ‘Sorry, la’, but it were the best I could do.’

‘I think you did marvels,’ he said frankly. ‘D’you mind going round there for me, Sally, and seeing what you can find out? I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to tell help her, and having seen her again . . . well, she’s only a kid, isn’t she? And from what you say, that evening at Sid’s place was a one off. I reckon she’s learnt her lesson and won’t want to meet up with fellers again.’ He thought back to that evening in Sid’s flat, to the sophisticated and beautiful girl in her smart clothes and high-heeled shoes. ‘Little Evie, a nun!’ he said wonderingly. ‘What kind of life is that for a beautiful, lively gal, though, Sally?’

‘If it’s what she wants, then it’s what she wants,’ Sally said baldly. ‘Look, Geoff, there’s no point talking about it. I’ll go up to the orphanage around teatime – you can walk me up if you want and hang about until I come out. I shan’t be long. Then we’ll know what’s what, okay?’

He thought her voice a trifle tart, her glance a little chilly, but realising that he was asking a lot of her, said humbly that he would be glad to go with her and keep out of sight until she emerged. Having made their arrangements the two of them went into Lime Street Station and killed time in the railway buffet
while wondering aloud whether Clem had yet caught up with the other runaway.

‘But he and the Pridmores know the canal and the folk who work on it like you know your own family,’ Geoff told Sally confidently. ‘He’s sweet on Lizzie and always has been so I reckon he’ll take better care of her than you or I could. We’ll sort this Evie out and then see whether we can get any news from the canal people.’

Lizzie’s Christmas Day was different from any she had ever imagined for most of it consisted of either leading Boxer along towpaths so thick with snow that several times one or other of the brothers had to dig his way through a particularly deep drift, or steering the boat in the teeth of a howling gale which blew the whirling flakes so thickly against her face that a wall of it built up on her muffler, making it almost impossible to see more than a few yards ahead. Despite this, however, she actually managed to enjoy the work, and since the brothers insisted that she had regular tots of what they called ‘our Christmas spirit’, she soon felt quite jolly and warm from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.