Read Winnie of the Waterfront Online
Authors: Rosie Harris
‘Then I think you should be prepared to manage without him. Not only tomorrow, but possibly the day after as well,’ Sergeant Baker told them cryptically.
After the police had taken Sandy away, Winnie and Peg looked at each other in dismay.
‘What on earth are they talking about, saying that Sandy is involved in drugs and smuggling?’
‘I don’t know, and there’s no way we can find out tonight.’
Winnie couldn’t sleep. It was like a repeat of the nightmare of the bonded warehouse break-in. She wondered if it was a trumped-up case because Sergeant Baker hadn’t been able to prove any involvement that time.
‘No, luv, the scuffers wouldn’t do anything as devious as that,’ Peg assured her when she mentioned it the next morning. ‘This is something different altogether.’
‘It’s the same police sergeant,’ Winnie pointed out.
‘Well, he’s probably the one who deals with crime in the Scotland Road area,’ Peg said helplessly.
‘It’s a trumped-up charge, I’m sure of it,’ Winnie insisted. ‘Sandy never goes near Paddy’s Market these days, or sees any of the chaps he used to know when he worked there, does he?’
Peg avoided her eyes.
Winnie was quick to notice this. ‘Do you know something I don’t?’ she pressed.
‘Well, he has been going there quite a lot lately,’ Peg admitted uneasily.
‘What for? We don’t buy from anyone trading there.’
‘He was going to tell you …’ Peg’s voice trailed off and she wished she hadn’t spoken out.
‘You’ve told me half a tale so you may as well tell me the rest,’ Winnie snapped.
‘He was going to tell you himself. A couple of the chaps he knows there have been giving him driving lessons.’
Winnie stared at her, open-mouthed. ‘I don’t believe you! I would have known!’
‘He wanted to surprise you. He only told me recently after a chap from the market told me he had a van going cheap and knew we were looking for one.’
‘So what has all that got to do with the police coming here last night and taking him away for questioning?’ Winnie demanded indignantly.
Peg stood up and began to clear the table. ‘I
don’t
know, luv. Maybe the chaps he knows from there have been arrested as well.’
‘Sandy’s not been arrested,’ Winnie snapped.
‘Well, taken in for questioning, then,’ Peg said uneasily.
‘So who were these chaps he’s been mixing with at the market?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ Peg said evasively. ‘He simply said that a couple of them were teaching him to drive.’
‘So they’ve got a van and they are probably the ones involved in smuggling drugs. The police have possibly spotted Sandy riding in the van with them, and that’s why they are questioning him,’ Winnie pronounced.
‘It’s probably something like that,’ Peg agreed cautiously.
‘Do you think we should go along to Atholl Road and explain all this to Sergeant Baker?’
‘Sandy is quite capable of speaking up for himself,’ Peg told her. ‘If we go along there they’ll only think we’re trying to establish his innocence because we know that he’s involved. Leave it for now. Time enough for us to speak up, if they decide to keep him in.’
Chapter Thirty-three
THERE WERE SO
many reports from different policemen saying Sandy had been seen in the van involved in the drug-smuggling operation, that there was no way Sergeant Baker would release him. Winnie pleaded both with him and several other police officers for Sandy to be given bail, but they all remained adamant.
Peg was beside herself with worry. She sat huddled in her chair, her black shawl pulled tight around her shoulders, rocking backwards and forwards.
‘If I’d never sent him over to Tatlock Street to buy that van then none of this would have happened,’ she kept saying, over and over.
‘That is utter rubbish!’ Winnie told her time and time again. ‘It was all because Sandy got involved with that crowd at Paddy’s Market. They’re the ones to blame. Teaching him to drive, indeed! Making him a scapegoat for what they were up to more likely.’
‘Have they been picked up as well?’ Peg asked.
‘I don’t know, but I suppose Sandy will be able to tell us when he comes home,’ Winnie muttered.
Sandy didn’t come home the next day, or the next. When Winnie went to the police station she wasn’t allowed to see him and her enquiries were evaded. She was told nothing.
‘I’d go to the police and complain about the way this matter is being dealt with if it wasn’t them who’d got him locked up,’ Winnie railed.
When they finally did get some news it was even worse than they had imagined possible. The police had so much incriminating evidence that Sandy had been formally arrested.
‘They say that he’ll have to remain in jail until the trial,’ Winnie told Peg.
‘So when will that be?’ Peg gasped.
‘They couldn’t give me an exact date, but they said it would probably take a couple of months before the case comes to court.’
‘That means it will be almost Christmas before he’s home again.’
‘That’s if he comes home at all,’ Winnie said balefully. ‘If they prove their case against him then it will be a jail sentence, and heaven knows how long he will get!’
‘You’ll have to do something about getting him a solicitor,’ Peg told her. ‘Make sure it’s someone who can make them see what nonsense this all is.’
‘Solicitors cost money!’ Winnie said grimly.
Peg nodded dolefully. ‘I wish I’d never sent him to buy that bloody van; what a waste of money that’s turned out to be.’
‘If we can persuade the police to return it to us, I wonder if we could get the chap who sold it to Sandy to take it back and refund our money?’ Winnie murmured tentatively.
Peg shook her head. ‘I doubt it. A deal’s a deal. Anyway, I’ve got a feeling that the bloke in Tatlock Street who sold him the van was in with the gang
from
Paddy’s Market and had something to do with this drug business himself.’
‘What do you mean?’ Winnie frowned.
‘I think that the van Sandy bought was the one used in the smuggling!’
Winnie’s eyes widened. ‘You might be right. It’s funny that the police turned up right after Sandy drove home in it.’
‘Yes, it was as though they were watching out for that van.’
Winnie’s face brightened. ‘If we tell the police that Sandy had only owned the van for a couple of hours when they stopped him then that should clear his name,’ she said jubilantly.
Peg grimaced. ‘I don’t think that they’ll take any notice of what we tell them. I’m beginning to think you’re right and that Sergeant Baker has got it in for you, luv. I think he’s trying to get back at us because his case against you over the bonded warehouse break-in didn’t come to anything.’
Winnie nodded. ‘You could be right, Peg. He’s got a memory like an elephant that one,’ she said bitterly.
Every day they went to Atholl Road police station asking for news. Every day they were told the same thing, that Sandy had been charged and would remain in custody until the trial came up.
They missed him helping at the café. He had been responsible for so much and he’d dealt with it in such a capable manner. Each day they became more aware of what a tremendous load he’d been undertaking.
‘Good job we didn’t get rid of your wheelchair,’
Peg
commented. ‘I don’t know where we would be if we weren’t able to pile heavy stuff in it.’
The weather had turned cold and damp so they were not selling very much ice-cream. Peg suggested they tried to replace the money those sales had been bringing in all summer by selling hot soup instead.
‘Encourage them to drink the stuff out of the mugs and that will cut down on the washing up,’ she urged.
‘That only works with the thin soups, but what about thick vegetable soup?’
‘We won’t serve it! If they want something thick then they can order a bowl of scouse and we can charge more for that, which will cover the cost of them sitting down and using a spoon.’
The drug-smuggling trial began in late October and made headline news in the
Liverpool Daily Post
and in the
Liverpool Evening Echo
. It even had a mention in some of the national newspapers as well. Sandy’s picture, as well as those of the three other men who had been arrested with him, was splashed across two columns. The names of all of them were on the flyers pasted on the billboards and newsstands.
Winnie felt humiliated. She knew that most of their customers were talking about the trial. Some asked her outright how true it was, and wanted to know if she could tell them any more than what was in the papers. Others simply looked at her speculatively and then refused to meet her eyes.
‘It makes my skin crawl the way they stop talking when I get within earshot,’ she grumbled
to
Peg. ‘I know they’re gossiping about Sandy. I wish they had the guts to speak out and let me hear what they think.’
‘They’re trying to be kind, chuck,’ Peg told her sadly. ‘They don’t want to upset you!’
Winnie’s eyes sparkled with irritation. ‘If they don’t want to upset me then they should stop gossiping about him altogether,’ she said indignantly.
‘They might be saying that they think he’s innocent and that they feel sorry for him.’
‘Well, we don’t need their pity,’ Winnie snapped.
By the time the date of the trial dawned, both Winnie and Peg were living on their nerves. They were snapping at each other, getting worked up over trivial happenings, and missing having Sandy around more and more every day.
Winnie claimed she could hardly bear to read each day’s report of the trial, yet she avidly devoured every word. Tears streamed down her cheeks at the things said about Sandy. When she’d finished reading the reports she vehemently denied every word of them.
Peg was more pragmatic. ‘It’s all talk, luv, so don’t take any of it to heart. Wait until they get to the summing-up. Let’s see what the judge says, that’s what counts.’
‘It will be too late then,’ Winnie said moodily. ‘After the judge’s finished summing-up, then comes the sentence!’
‘With any luck he’ll say that Sandy is innocent and then he’ll be coming straight back home.’
On the day of the verdict they didn’t open the
café.
‘Do you think we should put a note on the door to explain why we’re shut?’ Winnie said worriedly.
‘No, luv! I’m sure there’s no need for us to do that. Every bugger in Liverpool will know where we are today.’
‘It’s a pity we couldn’t have attended court every day throughout the trial!’
‘That would have meant closing the café and that would have worried Sandy,’ Peg pointed out. ‘Not much point in being there when they wouldn’t let us be witnesses, or listen to a word we have to say! Anyhow, that smart-arsed lawyer you hired was there in our place, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes,’ Winnie nodded, ‘but if Sandy had been able to see us there he would’ve known we were supporting him.’
‘I couldn’t have sat there day in, day out and watched the poor boy being cross-questioned and put through hell,’ Peg shuddered. ‘Anyway, not to worry, luv, he’ll be back home with us by this time tomorrow.’
‘Providing the jury doesn’t take so long coming to a decision that we have to wait another day for the verdict.’
The jury didn’t take long to make their minds up. By mid-afternoon, Sandy and the other three men were all brought back into the dock for sentencing.
Winnie and Peg couldn’t believe their ears when Sandy was given two years. They were so stunned that they couldn’t even talk about it. Peg was shattered. As they made their way home she hung on
to
to Winnie’s wheelchair, as much for support as anything else.
Once they were indoors Peg collapsed in a bout of weeping. Over and over again, she blamed herself for Sandy getting mixed up with the men involved in the smuggling.
‘If I hadn’t encouraged him to buy that van he would never have got that bunch of rogues from Paddy’s Market to teach him to drive and then this would never have happened,’ she moaned.
Winnie put her arms around Peg and hugged her close. ‘Yes it would,’ she argued. ‘This has nothing to do with him buying the van. He met those blokes when he was learning to drive.’
‘He wouldn’t have wanted to drive if it hadn’t been for me saying I’d find the money for one of them Auto carriers,’ Peg argued.
Nothing Winnie said could change Peg’s view. She fretted over the matter day in, day out. She lost weight and she lost interest in everything going on around her.
Winnie was in despair. The entire running of the café was now on her shoulders. Although she had loyal, helpful staff there were so many things that only she could take a decision on, and she felt weighed down with responsibility.
Trying to fit in visits to Walton Jail was another juggling feat, but one Winnie moved heaven and earth to achieve. Sandy was always pleased to see her. They had little time for consoling each other, though, because there were so many other urgent matters to discuss. It was the only opportunity Winnie had to ask his opinion and seek his advice
over
the countless problems connected with the café.
When she confided in him about her concerns over Peg’s health he could only mumble platitudes and tell her not to worry.
‘She’s a tough old bird, she’ll get over it,’ he assured Winnie. ‘She’ll pick up again when I get out.’
‘She’s got such a guilty conscience about it all, though heaven knows why. I keep telling her it had nothing at all to do with her.’
‘That crowd from Paddy’s Market who were showing me how to drive set me up as a fall guy. They’ve admitted it to me since we’ve been banged up.’
‘How can you bear to talk to them?’ Winnie said in a shocked voice.
‘Not much choice, have I, luv. I’m locked up in here, the same as them. The only thing is they’ve been given longer sentences than me. Don’t worry, luv, I’ll be clear of them once I get out.’
‘What about when they’re released?’
‘We’ll worry about that when the time comes. At the moment I am counting the days until I’m out and we can get back to our normal life again.’
Winnie tried to be as optimistic as Sandy was, but she found it hard. She also tried to encourage Peg to look on the bright side as well.