A Kiss and a Promise (14 page)

But the explanation was already on his lips. He was the manager of the biggest shoe shop on Byrom Street … they must know it … and one of his staff had caught the little bitch stealin’ a pair of his decent shoes … he could not allow that sort of thing; if every guttersnipe in the city thought him a soft touch …

There was a muffled giggle at that. Ginny glanced at the faces surrounding her and saw that not one of them thought the bulldog likely to be a soft touch, no sir! There was sympathy in some of the eyes which met her own, but their oweners were beginning to disperse, some to climb aboard the tram, others to move up, nearer the head of the queue.

‘Where’s the shoes then, mister? The shoes you say she prigged?’

It was a boy, probably no older than herself, and he was glaring at the bulldog as though, for two pins, he would thump him one. And … oh, thank heaven, Ginny thought fervently; someone prepared to take her side, to speak up for her. But it would not do to let her pleasure and relief show, so she merely shot him a speaking glance in which gratitude and despair, she suspected, were nicely mingled, for though grateful for his intervention she did not think the bulldog would take much notice of a young boy.

He might not have done, either, but the rest of the queue were adding their voices to his. Yes, where were the shoes? He could scarcely drag her to the police station if he had no evidence, no stolen shoes to show! This, however, did not daunt the bulldog, nor encourage him to loosen his hold on her wrist.

‘I’m tekkin’ her back to me shop. No doubt she threw away the shoes as soon as she gorroutside me premises,’ he said. ‘If I find the shoes then it’s straight to the station, an’ I’ll see she gets what she deserves. If I don’t find ’em then I’ll bleedin’ well hand out me own sort o’ punishment. She won’t forget that in a hurry, I’m tellin’ you; it’ll mek her think twice afore robbin’ again.’

But this, it seemed, was too much both for Ginny herself and for another member of the bus queue. A young woman stepped forward and laid a hand on the bulldog’s arm. She was tall and slim, with shining fair hair cut in a fashionable bob and a sweet, gentle face. She was frowning now, though, and looking at the bulldog with real dislike.

‘Take your hands off the child,’ she said quietly. ‘There are no stolen shoes here and so far the only voice we’ve heard has been yours – and very loud and unpleasant it was, too.’ She turned to Ginny. ‘Can you tell me what happened, dear? Speak out, now.’

Ginny took a deep breath and marshalled her thoughts. ‘I went into his shop to buy meself some shoes for school, when the new term starts,’ she said loudly, so that everyone could hear. ‘I’d been savin’ up for weeks and weeks, all me message-money, pennies what I were give for mindin’ babies, the money I got for choppin’ kindlin’ wood and sellin’ it round the courts …’

‘A likely story,’ the bulldog growled. ‘If you’ve got money –
if
, I say – then it’s money what you stole off some poor shopkeeper, I don’t doubt.’

‘Hold your tongue, sir,’ the young woman said. She spoke sharply and with authority, and Ginny gaped at her. How brave she was – and how very beautiful, with her straight ash blonde hair, pale complexion and cornflower blue eyes. But she had not finished with the bulldog yet, so Ginny continued to listen appreciatively. ‘It is no business of yours where the money came from, though I’ve no doubt this young person came by it honestly. Why should it be otherwise? And if I were to go into your shop – which is now extremely unlikely – would you ask me where the money I was about to hand over for my new shoes came from? Would you suggest that it was not come by honestly? Then why should you do so just because the would-be purchaser is a child?’

The bulldog mumbled something under his breath; Ginny could not catch it but thought he had probably said something to the effect that children couldn’t earn enough money for shoes, because the young woman promptly contradicted him.

‘No doubt, when you were young, you had parents who bought you everything you either wanted or needed,’ she said crisply. ‘But few kids today are in that fortunate position. I don’t think there’s one member of my class – I’m a teacher – who doesn’t try to earn a few pence in the summer holidays. But that’s beside the point.’ She turned to Ginny. Eyes blue as forget-me-not flowers shone with compassion, yet Ginny could also see humour in their depths. ‘Can you show us your shoe money, dear, or were you forced to abandon it when you were being chased by this – this
gentleman
?’

How nice it was to hear the bulldog being called a gentleman in such a tone that it was very clearly not meant as a compliment, Ginny thought gleefully, pulling the large collection of small change out of the pocket of her dress and displaying it to one and all. ‘There’s ten bob altogether,’ she said triumphantly. ‘And I
did
work hard for it, honest to God, miss. But the woman in the shoe shop wouldn’t let me try anything on, ’cos I were barefoot, so I said I were sorry to have troubled her … nice as pie I was, thinkin’ it would ha’ been better to go along to John Lee’s on the Scottie. I thought the shoes there would be every bit as good, an’ – an’ perhaps the shop ladies an’ gents would be a bit more … well, mebbe they’d understand kids can’t always afford stockings as well as shoes.’

There was a mutter of appreciation from the tram queue; clearly, they felt that Ginny had got a bit of her own back by this remark. Feeling more confident with every minute, she continued with her story. ‘So anyway, I were turnin’ away, meanin’ to get along to the Scottie just as quickly as I could, when that – that
gentleman
– started shouting stop thief. He came towards me … the shop lady tried to explain but he wouldn’t listen, not he! So I ran … though I’m no perishin’ thief, I swear it on the Bible, and if the shop lady hadn’t been so toffee-nosed and hoity-toity I’d ha’ bought the shoes even wi’ out tryin’ ’em on.’

‘I don’t believe a word of it,’ the bulldog declared, but Ginny could hear the uncertainty in his tone. ‘Some o’ these bloody guttersnipes could talk their way out o’ a murder charge at the Old Bailey; why, they’ve lied all their lives, so lyin’ comes natural to ’em.’

There was a shocked mutter at this remark; even the tight-lipped old ladies who had looked accusingly at Ginny, even the other shopkeepers who had joined in the chase, looked disapproving over the spiteful speech. And the schoolteacher stepped forward until there could not have been more than six inches between her pretty, straight little nose and the bulldog’s horrid protuberance. ‘So you are pretending you still think that the child stole the money? From some firm like your own, no doubt, which trades in pennies and ha’pennies! Why, you stupid, ignorant man, no one steals pennies and ha’pennies, let alone farthings!’

This seemed to convince even the most sceptical. A shopkeeper, still in his striped apron – he must be a butcher, Ginny thought – said roundly that the young lady was right and that the bulldog owed the kid an apology. ‘Then no more need be said,’ he added majestically. ‘For I believe the law wouldn’t look too kindly, Mr Bostock, on a false accusation. And as for you takin’ the law into your own hands … and wi’out a smidgen of proof – well, you could be in serious trouble, you know.’

‘It’s awright, I won’t prosecute him this time,’ Ginny said magnanimously, and was rewarded by the gale of laughter which greeted the remark. ‘And now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be on me way. I’ve gorra pair o’ shoes to buy before the day’s out.’

The young teacher laughed with the rest, but when Ginny began to thank her, to say that she had feared prison at least as a result of the bulldog’s malevolence, she shook her head, smiling down at the younger girl. ‘The police would never have believed him, not once you showed them all your loose change, and even if they had, they wouldn’t have shot you into prison, they’d just have told you off and visited your mam to warn her what you’d been doing. Only I do think you should have come shoe-shopping with either your mother or your father, because there are people, like Mr Bostock, who take advantage of a child alone.’

‘Me mam’s dead,’ Ginny said briefly. ‘And me dad’s gorra farm over in Ireland. I’m goin’ to live there one day, when I’m growed, but for now I live wi’ me gran – that’s Granny Bennett – in Victoria Court, off Rathbone Street.’

‘Couldn’t she have come shopping with you?’ the young woman asked. Another tram drew up beside them and she took Ginny’s hand. ‘I’ll treat you to a tram-ride then we can continue this conversation. Jump aboard!’

Very happily, Ginny obeyed, and soon they were upstairs on one of the front seats, Ginny chattering away and explaining everything, for she wanted her new friend to know exactly how things stood.

‘Gran bends her elbow a trifle,’ she said. ‘And – well, she’s norran early riser … and she’d want to know where I’d got the money for shoes from,’ she added in a rush. ‘To tell the truth, miss, I don’t mean to lerrer know I’ve got good shoes for school – when I do get ’em, I mean – because if she knows, likely she’ll take ’em over.’

‘Take them over? But what good would they be to her? Your feet can’t possibly … oh, I see.’

‘Yes, that’s right. She’d either pawn ’em or sell ’em, next time she’s short o’ cash. So you see I had to come by meself. Oh, a pal had meant to come wi’ me, but her mam’s taken her and her sisters to New Brighton for the day. They asked me if I’d like to go along, but I wanted to get me shoes. If I’d known … but then Annie Wait’s just a kid, like me, so it would still have happened, I dare say.’

‘You’re probably right,’ the teacher said, after a moment’s thought. ‘But I think you’ll find that if I go into the shop with you, we’ll have no trouble. Would that be all right by you? There are several good shoe shops on the Scotland Road where you’ll be well treated, I’m sure.’

‘Oh, miss,’ Ginny said tremulously. She had all but made up her mind that she would have to buy cheap gym shoes from a market stall and give up the idea of real, strong shoes. ‘Oh, miss, would you really? I’d be that grateful! I were just thinkin’ that I didn’t fancy going into a shoe shop ever again after … well, after what happened earlier. But weren’t you on your way somewhere? I don’t want to hold you up.’

The teacher laughed. ‘I was going to buy myself a new briefcase, but that won’t take all day and I will almost certainly get what I want on Scotland Road. You see, I’m starting at a new school in the autumn term, teaching rather older girls than the ones I taught in Wigan, and I thought I’d need more books and so on, hence the new briefcase.’

‘Oh, you were at Wigan, were you? I don’t know it. Then where’s you goin’ next, miss?’

‘The Rathbone Street Council School. I don’t suppose you know it, but …’

‘Know it?’ Ginny laughed exultantly. ‘It’s
my
school, miss! And one o’ the reasons I wanted decent shoes was because we’re havin’ a new teacher this September. Well, if that ain’t the strangest thing! Are you goin’ to teach Standard VI by any chance?’

‘That’s right. Well, whoever would have thought it? We are obviously fated to know one another, dear, so we’d best introduce ourselves. I’m …’

But Ginny was before her. ‘You’re Miss Derbyshire, Miss Mabel Derbyshire,’ she said triumphantly. ‘When you came to the school last June two of the girls from our class saw you … oh, miss!’

Miss Derbyshire laughed again. ‘Well, what it is to be famous,’ she said lightly. ‘And you are … ?’

‘I’m Ginny Bennett,’ Ginny said promptly. ‘I live in Victoria Court wi’ my gran. The girls said you were going to lodge in the neighbourhood … have you found somewhere?’

‘I’m looking for a place of my own, so if you hear of a nice little house going for a reasonable rent you can let me know,’ Miss Derbyshire said. ‘But until then I’m lodging in Canning Street, and getting to know the city. It’s a grand place and the shops on the Scotland Road seem to sell everything. Ah, I think we should get off here, if we’re to buy your shoes at the shop I’ve got in mind.’

It was late afternoon before Ginny returned to her own area and then she came walking on clouds. She had had a marvellous day, almost the best day she could ever remember. Miss Derbyshire had not only gone with her to buy the shoes but had insisted that the shop lent Ginny a pair of stockings and had seen to it that she tried on at least a dozen pairs before making her choice. In fact Ginny had been so dazzled by the splendid footwear that she had been quite unable to choose, and had been grateful when Miss Derbyshire and the assistant had advised her to take one particular pair.

‘They’re on special offer, miss,’ the young gentleman assistant had said. ‘It’s the last pair in that pertickler style, you see, so the boss knocked one and six off the price.’ He had gazed, adoringly, up at Miss Derbyshire as he spoke, then turned his attention back to Ginny. ‘It’s a fair savin’, one and six – why, you could buy yourself a shoe cleaning kit for one and fourpence. Or some nice woollen stockings for when winter comes.’

As it happened, the sturdy black shoes were as handsome as any of the others and felt very comfortable, so Ginny had been glad to buy them. She had watched, closely, as the young man had wrapped them in tissue paper and put them in a beautiful green and white shoebox with a picture of two smart little children – both wearing new shoes – on the lid. Then he slipped the box into a long brown paper bag and began to solemnly count the pile of coins which Ginny had placed carefully upon the counter. Naturally, she had abstracted l/6d, since she had known the exact sum in her pocket, but she watched, a trifle anxiously, as the young man counted; after all, her money had led an adventurous life today, what with being chased through the street, knocked to the ground at the tram stop and then hauled upright by the bulldog. Ginny now knew his name was Mr Bostock, but to her he would always be the bulldog.

However, the young man had begun to put the money into the till, saying as he did so: ‘That’s it, correct to the last farthing. Now you must go off and spend the one and a tanner on something you really want,’ and he had smiled in the friendliest fashion at them both, before crossing to the door of the shop and holding it open for them.