Three Letters (29 page)

Bob gave a sigh of relief. ‘Just be sure not to take any wrong turns.’

When, a short time later,
Patrick turned the wagon into Addison Street, Bob was able to relax. ‘Yer did well, Patrick.’ But his relief turned to frustration as the engine began spitting and groaning. When the wagon came to a full stop in the middle of the street, Patrick informed them, ‘You’ll need to get out and push, so ye will.’

Seeing how they were stranded at one end of the street and his house was at the other,
Bob knew they had little choice. He was not best pleased, but he was sensible enough to know that the engine packing up could not altogether be Patrick’s fault; that is, until Patrick grumbled, ‘I thought I’d put enough petrol in the tank to get us all the way back, so I did …’

One look at his old friend’s disbelieving expression, and Patrick wisely turned away. ‘Casey, lad. D’ye think you could
steer the wagon, while I get behind and help the others push it along to the house?’

‘Yes, Patrick, I can do that, if you show me how.’

So, after Patrick showed him how to steer, Casey was confident enough, though he was so low down, he could hardly see above the steering wheel.

‘Sit still a minute. I’ll soon ’ave ye comfortable, so I will.’

Patrick climbed into the back of the wagon and began
throwing things about.

‘What the devil are you doing in there?’ Bob was horrified to see all his carefully packed boxes being ravaged one by one.

A few minutes later Patrick emerged, triumphantly brandishing a pillow. ‘This’ll do the trick!’ he told them. He folded the pillow, placed it on the driving seat, and Casey sat atop it. ‘Now then, are ye able to see above the steering wheel?’

When
Casey sat up straight, his view of the road ahead was perfect. ‘Yes, I can see right down to our granddad’s house.’

Patrick was proud of himself. ‘All it takes is a bit o’ common sense and a clear head, an’ a man can solve all the problems in the world, so he can!’

He went on to give Casey a quick résumé of the next steps. ‘Now then, young ’un, all ye need to do is steer the wagon to the house.
Ye must keep as near the kerb as possible, but make sure ye don’t run over it. D’ye understand?’

‘Yes, Patrick, I understand.’ He repeated the instructions to Patrick’s satisfaction.

‘Good! Now then, I’m going back to help push the wagon. We’re all relying on you to do a proper job, so we are. Oh, and don’t forget what I told ye. When we’re getting closer to the house, me or your granddad will
shout for you to stamp your foot hard on the brake.’ He pointed. ‘That’s the one, right there. And don’t you worry, ’cause we’ll give ye plenty o’ warning.’

‘I can’t do it, Patrick.’

‘What d’ye mean, ye can’t do it? Course ye can!’

‘Patrick Riley, yer dafter than I thought.’ Bob’s voice rang out from behind. ‘Look at where the boy is! How the devil can he be expected to slam his foot on the
brakes from where he is?’

Patrick followed his old friend’s gaze. When he saw the boy’s little legs dangling in mid-air, he was shocked. ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What’s happened to his legs?’

Bob burst out laughing, ‘
You’ve
happened, that’s what! You’ve hoisted him up with the pillow. Now he can see above the steering wheel all right, only his legs are hanging in mid-air. In order to slam his
foot on the brake, he’ll need to climb down, but if he climbs down, he won’t be able to see where he’s going.’

Patrick was taking it all in. ‘Well, I never!’

Hearing the fracas, Dolly came to see, and she tried hard not to laugh. ‘Trust a man to get it wrong,’ she murmured.

Embarrassed, Patrick reviewed the situation. When he took note of how Casey was sitting atop the doubled pillow, with
his legs swinging back and forth, he started to titter, then he was chuckling, and now the three of them were roaring with laughter.

The raucous laughter echoed down the street, and in a matter of minutes, the windows and doors were being thrown open for neighbours to see what was going on.

‘Want a hand, do you?’ That was Mr Barnes from number fourteen. ‘Looks like you’ve got trouble.’

Having
watched their progress from the window, he couldn’t imagine why they were laughing. Now though, having got the gist of it, he was impatient to get down to the pub that night and relay the comical tale to his mates. He had never met Patrick before, but he instantly warmed to him.

‘I can help to push the wagon forward, or we can get the boy down, and I’ll steer the wagon. Just tell me where to
go. Like I say, I’ll do whatever helps most.’

‘Ah, now, wouldn’t that be grand. Thank you kindly.’ Patrick promptly recruited him to help push the wagon from behind. Patrick then helped Casey down and climbed into the cab, while Casey was assigned the job of walking along the pavement and keeping an eye on progress.

Unaware that he was just being kept safe, he felt really proud to be helping.

Mr Barnes and Bob positioned themselves at the rear of the wagon, taking the weight at the corners, while Dolly was in the middle, helping as best she could, without unduly straining herself.

It was a good plan in the circumstances and though they were going downhill, the wagon and its heavy load made the short journey somewhat painful.

‘I’ve a petrol can in the back.’ Patrick was thinking ahead,
‘Youse can make a start if ye like, while I make my way to the garage.’

‘No need for that.’ Mr Barnes was puffing and blowing as he bent his back to the wagon. ‘It’s a long walk to the nearest garage. When you’re ready I’ll run you down to King Street garage.’

‘You’d best ask my mate Bob. He’s the boss – on this occasion, anyway.’

Bob was grateful for Mr Barnes’ further offer of help. ‘That
would be much appreciated. Also, we’ve a pile o’ furniture and a load of heavy boxes to carry into the house. Another pair o’ helping hands would get the job done in a quicker time, if you’re sure yer don’t mind?’ He was conscious of how everyone in this street knew what had happened to his son, and that each and every one of them had been genuine in their sympathy.

When they drew up at the house
Patrick flung open the wagon doors. ‘Right then, mateys, let’s get started.’

No sooner were the doors opened and the first items of furniture brought to the lip of the wagon, than seemingly out of nowhere, people appeared to offer help in their droves.

‘All right, are you, Bob?’

‘We’ll give you a hand, Bob.’

Soon, there were more curious people than was comfortable, everyone barging one into
the other.

‘What ’ave you got in there … enough bricks and concrete to build a couple of houses I shouldn’t wonder?’ That was Frances Armitage, a sour-faced but big-hearted woman who was never happy unless grumbling.

Bob explained how he’d had to empty Tom’s place, and that he’d brought all the furniture and stuff from inside.

‘It’s got to be sold,’ he said. ‘I haven’t got room to keep it all
in my house for too long.’

Mr Barnes asked if he had a double bed to sell.

‘Sorry.’ Bob apologised. ‘The landlord took it back, but there’s a single bed, and a wardrobe from the boy’s bedroom. Casey won’t need it at mine, ’cause his room’s already fitted out.’

‘How much are you asking for the two?’

‘I haven’t really thought about it yet.’ Bob put his thinking cap on. ‘Well, they’re in good
condition. I can’t afford to let them go for … what …’ he was careful not to let his excitement show, ‘say, er, fifteen quid the pair, and that’s a bargain …’

‘Done!’ Mr Barnes was delighted. They shook hands on it, the furniture was removed from the wagon, and promptly delivered to Mr Barnes’ spare bedroom.

The crowd of neighbours were curious as to what other bargains might be tucked inside
that old wagon, and they were prepared to part with a shilling or two.

Patrick helped out and got so excited that he sold all his own stuff at the same time. Within the hour, the wagon was empty.

‘Well, now, wasn’t that a turn-up for the book, eh?’ Patrick counted his own earnings, while his old friend counted the rest.

‘Well, I never!’ Bob was delighted. ‘I thought I might be lucky to get
half that amount, and I expected it might tek a month or so, afore it were all gone.’

He gave Casey and Dolly a cuddle. ‘Half the battle is won.’ He was pleased at the transaction, but then immediately swamped by a rush of sadness at the reason for the selling.

Casey, too, was very quiet. ‘Well, lad,’ Granddad Bob slid an arm round the boy’s neck, ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m glad that’s
over and done with.’

‘Me too, Granddad.’ Even so, he could not imagine never seeing Henry Street again.

Henry Street and the Blakewater would always be there.

‘Granddad?’

‘Yes, lad?’

‘Do you think we could go back sometime, Granddad?

Suppressing emotion at the boy’s question, the old man answered softly, ‘Whenever you’re ready to go back there, just tell me, lad, and we’ll be off like a
shot.’ When Casey’s eyes lit up, the old man reached down to ruffle his mop of hair. ‘Can I ask yer summat, lad? And if yer not happy about it, then we’ll just forget I ever said it.’

‘What is it?’ Casey could see how uncomfortable his granddad was. ‘Go on, Granddad, ask me.’

‘Well, I were just … I mean,’ quickly glancing about, he lowered his voice, ‘I were wondering if yer might want to bring
Dolly along as well. I know she’d like that.’

Casey did not hesitate, ‘Course we can, Granddad. I’d like it too.’

‘Oh, that’s grand! I’m right pleased. And now that’s been settled, I reckon we’d best get on.’

As he went away, the old man wiped his eyes with the cuff of his shirt.

That brief exchange with his grandson had touched him deeply, and he suddenly felt incredibly lonely. He had lost
his son, Tom, and as for Ruth, he didn’t even know where she was, or if she would ever again show her face round these parts. If that turned out to be the case, then the lad had no parents at all, and that was the saddest thing.

Just then, seeing Dolly and Patrick arguing about something and nothing, he was made to smile. Then, the two of them were laughing, and a moment later Dolly made her
way to where young Casey was examining an item he’d picked up from the ground.

Casey handed it to Dolly and she turned it over in her hands. Then she brushed it clean with the hem of her dress, and the two of them chatted about it, as they made their way to the house, Dolly with her hand on the boy’s shoulders, and the boy looking up at her, seemingly happy.

Engrossed in each other, they did
not realise that Granddad Bob was watching them. With a full heart and a smile on his face, he turned away. ‘Yer get days when it never stops raining, and your heart weighs heavy, he murmured. ‘Then yer get days when the skies are clear and yer can’t help but smile.’

Pausing on the doorstep, he stole another glance at the two of them approaching. ‘Yesterday it were raining, Lord, and today we’ve
got sunshine. ’Cause we’ve got each other – me and the boy – an’ now we’ve got this lovely lady who’s come into our lives, just when we need her the most.’ He chuckled aloud. ‘The Three Musketeers. That’s what we are.’

Later that evening, while Dolly was happily getting their tea, Granddad Bob made Casey a promise.

‘Tomorrow morning, you and me – and Dolly, too, if she’s a
mind – we’ll make our way into Blackburn town.’

‘Are we going shopping, Granddad?’

‘In a way, yes. We’re going to see Frank, the pawnshop man. I’ve heard that he knows a thing or two about guitars. So, we’ll show him what needs doing, and if he can’t do it, we’ll find somebody who can. Does that idea please you, lad?’

From the excitement in Casey’s face and the way he threw his arms round his
granddad’s leathery old neck, he was delighted with the news.

‘I can’t wait to play Daddy’s guitar again,’ he said. ‘I think it will make him really happy.’

‘Aye, lad. So do I.’

That night as he lay in bed with the broken guitar beside him, Casey could hardly believe it. ‘Did you hear where we’re going in the morning, Daddy?’ His gaze was drawn to the window. ‘Granddad’s getting the guitar
fixed, and I’ll be able to play again.’

He was so excited, he could hardly wait for morning. When he thought of the guitar being mended, his heart beat faster, and several times he got out of bed and looked out of the window at the darkening skies.

‘I love you so much, Daddy. I miss you.’

Somewhere deep inside he loved his mammy too. But he didn’t know her like he knew his daddy, and she didn’t
love him like his daddy loved him.

And, try as he might, he could not think of what he had done that was so very bad that she didn’t want him.

Some time later, when he was sleeping, his granddad and Dolly looked in on him on the way to the bedrooms. After a long day, Dolly was staying over.

The old fella was saddened to notice the stain of tears down Casey’s face. ‘He’s been through so much,’
he whispered to Dolly as they left the small bedroom. ‘Getting that guitar mended will be the turning point for him, I know it!’

‘And will it be the turning point for you as well?’ Dolly had seen how strong Bob had been for the boy. ‘I’ve caught you crying when you think no one’s looking. I know how brave and generous you’ve been with Casey … always there for him, always ready to hold and advise
him. But what about you, my dear? Who have
you
been able to turn to?’