Born Bad (8 page)

Now though, having recalled the incident,
he began to wonder.

He chose not to disclose this to Kathleen because it was a delicate, womanly thing, and he would find it embarrassing to talk about.

The truth was, that first and only time he and Judy made love, she was unusually nervous; almost as though she didn’t want to.
In fact, he was so concerned he backed off, but Judy was adamant. ‘It’s what I want,’ she insisted.

Afterwards though,
he felt as if he had betrayed her.

As it turned out, in the end, it was Judy who betrayed him.

Kathleen asked now, ‘How did Sara react to what you told her?’

‘Much like you … with compassion. She took it in her stride and urged me to track Judy down. “Put it to rest, once and for all,” is what she said, but at the time, I thought it might be best to leave it behind us.’

‘So, what made you
come back now, after all this time?’

‘It was Sara. When we were told she was not long for this world, she made me promise that I would contact you, and ask if Tom and I could come home.’

‘She was very wise, your Sara.’

Harry chuckled. ‘Sometimes, when I thought I was on my own, she would be watching, almost as though she knew what I was thinking. She felt my guilt. She knew I wanted to make
amends with Judy, but didn’t know how.’ He was convinced of it. ‘Otherwise, why would she be so insistent that Tom and I should come back here?’

Practical as ever, Kathleen went on to dash his hopes. ‘Maybe it was all for nothing,’ she suggested thoughtfully. ‘Especially with Judy long gone from the street.’

Harry could not hide his disappointment. ‘Where did she go?’

‘I don’t know. All I know
is after you’d gone away, she came to see me – in a frantic state she was. She told me everything. She admitted that she was only fourteen, and that she was with child. She said you had given her money and she’d already arranged to visit some old woman who, she claimed, had a reputation of dealing with unwanted babies. I tried my best to stop her. I even threatened to go and see her parents, but
she warned me not to, because if her mother found out, she would skin her alive. So, I offered to find her a private clinic, if she really thought that was the right thing to do.’

‘So, what did she do?’ Harry’s guilt was tenfold.

‘I truly believed she was listening to what I had to say. I got her to promise not to do anything until she’d thought it through. I asked her to come back as soon as
she felt able, and between us, we would find a way to deal with it.’

Saddened, she shrugged her shoulders. ‘When I didn’t see her for a while, I assumed she was still giving it some serious thought. Then a short time later, she told me she had already been to this woman, and that everything was all right now.’

Harry blamed himself. ‘If I hadn’t given her the money, she would never have done
it.’ Now he wanted to know, ‘Where can I find this woman who gets rid of unwanted babies?’

Kathleen bristled. ‘If I knew that, Harry Boy, I would be speaking to the authorities.’

‘And are you really sure that Judy was all right afterwards?’

Kathleen nodded. ‘Like she said, everything was dealt with.’

‘Do you have any idea where she is now?’

‘’Fraid not. All I know is, soon after Judy came
to see me, she and her family moved away. I don’t know why they left the street, or where they went. If I did I would tell you, so I would.’

Harry believed she was telling the truth.

‘How can I find her?’ he asked now. ‘Where should I look?’

‘Do you really want my opinion?’

‘Of course.’

‘Leave it be. Let her go, Harry Boy. Sometimes, raking over old coals can get you badly burned. They may
look dead, but somewhere underneath, the flame often burns on.’

‘Kathleen!’ Harry felt that she was hiding something. ‘
Do
you know where Judy is?’

The little woman shook her head. ‘Wherever she is now, she’s obviously managed to put it all behind her. Happen you must do the same. Years have passed and things have changed. It’s time to look forward now. You need to build a future, for you and
your son.’

The two of them talked well into the night, moving back indoors when it grew too chilly outside.

Harry wondered if there was work to be found locally, and Kathleen gave him a few pointers. ‘Well, there’s the Plysu factory in Woburn Sands,’ she said. ‘They’ve extended the business and need more people. Oh, and I heard that Jacobs’ Store in Bedford needs a new tallyman. Old Ernie Wright’s
done the job for over twenty years, but he’s retired now.’

She was convinced. ‘That one should suit you down to the ground. You’ll get a good wage and you’ll be out and about, meeting all kinds of folks. What’s more, you’ll be able to work out your own route and timetable.’

She laughed out loud. ‘Old Ernie met a lot of naughty women on his rounds, including his second wife. He used to stop at
every house and have a cuppa … though he never accepted a slice o’ cake until he got here.’ She gave another cheery, infectious giggle. ‘That’s because he knew the best cake lived at
my
house!’

Harry was highly amused, and for a time they got sidetracked; but then he needed to bring the conversation back to work. ‘So, what
is
a tallyman?’ he asked. If it was anything to do with figures he’d be
fine, as he had often worked as a bookkeeper after leaving the Army.

‘If you call at the store, sure they’ll tell you all about it. And you know what? I reckon you’re just the fella they’re looking for.’

‘Oh, you do, do you?’ He was certainly interested. ‘In that case, I might just go and have a word with them.’

Later that night, when Harry and Tom were fast asleep, Kathleen sat at the kitchen
table supping her bedtime drink.

In her mind she went over the conversation with Harry. ‘It’s a curious thing,’ she muttered, clearing away her cup, ‘how the love and devotion of two young people can create such a lifetime of heartache.’

Turning out the lights, she shuffled her way up the stairs and into her room, where she softly closed the door.

A moment later, with her arms raised to close
the curtains, she took a few seconds to marvel at the night skies. She had always thought the heavens were uniquely magnificent. With a myriad of twinkling diamonds against a forever carpet of midnight blue, there could be no other creation like it in the whole world.

She stayed awhile, letting the beauty sink into her senses, then she quietly addressed the heavens. ‘Well, Judy, here we are,’
she whispered. ‘Your boy is home again. Sure, he’s a tortured man, and he’s looking to find his first love. So, what are we going to do, Judy m’darlin’? How will it all end, I wonder. And where are you now? What have you done with your life? More than that, did ye find happiness … or are ye haunted, just like yer man?’

She sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, thinking and wondering; recalling
the very last conversation she had had with Judy.

After a time, she undressed and slid between the sheets, but she was deeply troubled, and not only because of the things she and Harry had openly discussed.

More importantly, it was the very things she had deliberately kept from Harry, that wounded her most and which made her deeply ashamed for the first time in her life. Bad things touching
on abortion, family and wickedness. And especially the fact that Judy had come to see her another time; with news that had lifted her old heart in forgiveness.

She had toyed with the idea of telling Harry, then thought it
kinder, and wiser, to let him believe what she had just now told him. It wasn’t her secret to reveal. Moreover, her suspicions were now substantiated. Yet doubts still tormented
her.

She still didn’t have the whole story. At one point she had almost got the truth out of Judy; until the poor girl grew afraid and ran away
.

‘Harry has a right to know my thoughts,’ she whispered to the darkness, ‘but oh, dear Lord, how can I ever be sure?’

She knew one thing though. Harry had already been the victim of deception. If the truth was even more disturbing, and Judy had not
entrusted him with it, she would not be surprised if he turned his back on her and Judy for all time.

Turning over, she closed her eyes, but sleep eluded her. There were things on her mind that should be spoken out loud.

After a time, she climbed out of bed and went softly on tippy-toes down the stairs. She entered the kitchen, closed the door behind her and made herself another cup of cocoa.
Then she sat at the table, rolling the cup about in her hands and thinking what to do.

‘Not telling him of my suspicions is tantamount to betraying him yet again!’ she chided herself. ‘That’s exactly what Judy did, and that’s what drove him away for all these years. He deserves to know!’ The truth played heavy on her mind.

She was all for telling him, and then she was not, and now she was desperately
trying to justify keeping him in the dark. ‘If I tell him now, it will cause more heartache, so it will.’

Pushing her cocoa aside, she left it untouched and crept back to her bed. Rightly or wrongly, her decision was made. She intended to keep her own counsel, for the alternative would be too cruel for everyone concerned.

‘He’ll find her, or he won’t!’ she muttered as she clambered back under
the bedclothes. ‘Either way, I can’t be the one to stir up trouble. He’s had enough upset in his life, without me adding to his burden now.’

Before drifting into a restless sleep, she turned her sad gaze to the window.

‘Forgive me,’ she begged some unseen entity. ‘I can’t voice my thoughts just now, but for Harry’s sake, I only hope and pray I’m doing the right thing by remaining silent.’

T
HE FOLLOWING MORNING
, Harry was ready to go looking for work. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind keeping an eye on Tom?’ he asked Kathleen. Though reluctant to leave his boy behind, he had been pleased to see how the pair of them were getting on like a house on fire.

‘Do I
mind
?’ Kathleen was wounded. ‘Aw, sure, looking after the little fella will be a joy, so it will.’

‘I’ll be quick
as I can,’ he promised Tom.

‘I don’t mind, Daddy.’ Tucking into one of the apple tarts Kathleen had baked that very morning, Tom proudly informed him, ‘Kathleen’s taking me on the bus to Bedford. We’re looking for new shoes for when I go to school.’

Harry was puzzled. ‘What about the shoes your mammy bought for you?’

Tom frowned. ‘My feet won’t stop growing, and now the shoes are squeezing
all my toes up. Kathleen says when I grow up like you, I’ll probably have feet the size of meat plates.’

‘Is that right?’ Fishing in his wallet, Harry declared, ‘We can’t have my son walking about with his toes sticking out the end of his shoes!’ He gave Kathleen enough money for shoes and socks, and a bit extra for a meal and bus fare.

‘So, am I not allowed to buy the boy a new pair of shoes?’
Kathleen feigned an air of indignation. ‘Kathleen O’Leary’s money is not good enough, is that what you’re saying?’

Harry played her little game. ‘Well, I’m sure I didn’t mean to offend you.’ He held out his hand. ‘Give it back?’

‘What! You really want me to give it back? Shame on ye, Harry Boy! You’re a heartless divil, so ye are.’ She winked at Tom, who was beginning to realise it was just
a game. ‘Tom, what d’ye think?’ she asked. ‘Should we keep your daddy’s money or not?’

‘Keep it! Yes!’ Laughing and screeching, Tom jumped up and down.

‘Behave yourselves, you two.’ Harry swung Tom up into his arms. ‘I can see I’ll have to keep an eye on the pair of you,’ he said, wagging a finger. ‘If I’m not careful, you’ll be running rings round me.’

A thought occurred to him. ‘Look, Kathleen,
if you’re taking Tom into town, you might as well jump in the car with me,’ he suggested. ‘I can drop you off at the end of the market, if you like.’

Kathleen graciously declined. ‘I promised Tom we would go on the bus and he’s looking forward to it.’

‘Yes!’ Tom was like a cat on hot bricks. ‘I want to go on the bus with Kathleen, please, Daddy?’

A short time later, Harry was out of the door,
into the car, and away down the street, waving all the way. ‘Keep your fingers crossed for me!’ he called out.

‘We will,’ the pair replied in unison.

Kathleen’s directions were easy to follow, and within the hour, Harry had gone through Bedford Town and out towards the prison, where he took a sharp left. The store was directly in front of him, exactly where Kathleen had predicted.

Straddling
the entire corner and snaking down a considerable length of the back street, the building made an immediate impression. With its great arched entrance, fancy tiles underfoot and sturdy windows, it was an obvious relic from Victorian times; and there on a massive sign, written in large black letters on a deep mustard background, was the proud announcement:

JACOBS’ EMPORIUM

ESTABLISHED 1945

EVERYTHING YOU NEED FOR HOME AND GARDEN

Drawing the Hillman Minx into the kerb, Harry switched off the engine and got out of the car. After locking the car, he stooped to regard himself in the wing mirror.

Satisfied, he straightened his tie, polished the uppers of his shoes against the back of his trousers and, taking a deep breath, he strode
to the door and rang the bell at the side. There was
still half an hour to go until opening time.

The painted dolly-girl had seen him coming and was eager to tend to him. ‘Good morning, sir. Are you looking for anything in particular?’ Judging from her enthusiasm, she would have liked it to be
her
that Harry was ‘looking for’.

‘I’m here to see Mr Jacobs.’ Now that he was only minutes away from the interview, Harry’s nerves were beginning to get
the better of him.

‘Ah.’ The girl looked him up and down. ‘You must be Mr Blake, applying for Mr Wright’s old job.’

‘Yes,’ Harry answered.

‘You’re younger than him.’

Harry was taken aback. ‘Is that a problem?’

‘Oh no, quite the opposite as far as I’m concerned.’ Allowing him a coy little smile, she explained, ‘It’s just that, well, we’ve had all kinds wanting the job, but they were all in
their late fifties, and scruffy into the bargain.’ She leaned forward to impart quietly, ‘If you ask me, they were all layabouts – probably been given the sack for not working as hard as they should. I expect they thought being a tallyman would be an easy option.’

‘And is it?’

‘Hmh!’ She gave Harry a critical look. ‘Don’t you believe it,’ she told him sternly. ‘It’s damned hard work. That’s
why poor Ernie retired early … because he was worn out.’

‘How so?’ Harry had never been afraid of hard work.

‘Well, it’s just
people
, innit?’

‘In what way?’

‘Well, there’s those who can get really stroppy and threaten you, and those who always find some excuse not to pay. Then there’s the “other” kind.’ She gave him a knowing wink. ‘If you know what I mean.’

‘Well, no, not exactly.’ From
the look in her eye, Harry guessed it was something cheeky.

‘They’re the ones who prefer to pay for goods in other ways than money,’ she giggled. ‘I reckon if we took you on, you’d soon find out about the other kind.’

‘Chatting again, Amy? Get back to your work at once!’ The voice of authority echoed across the floor.

The girl was startled. ‘Yes, Mr Jacobs. Sorry, this is Mr Blake. I was about
to bring him up to you.’

Bernie Jacobs was a sizeable man with a squashy face, which was
mostly covered by his huge, black-rimmed spectacles. A fair-minded man, he had hands the size of shovels, and a beer belly that would go twice round the gasworks.

‘I’ve warned you about wasting valuable time!’ he reprimanded the girl. ‘I distinctly asked that you bring Mr Blake up the minute he arrived.
Instead I find you gossiping with him!’

‘I really am sorry, Mr Jacobs.’ She secretly rolled her eyes at Harry. ‘It won’t happen again.’

‘It had better not!’

Addressing Harry, the boss welcomed him to the store. ‘So you’re here for the position of tallyman, is that right?’

Harry confirmed that.

‘Good!’ He looked Harry up and down, mentally applauding the way he was turned out. More importantly,
he thought Harry’s manner was exactly right for the part – nice and easy, but with a layer of authority. Bernie was not one to go on first impressions, and today was no exception, though so far he liked what he saw.

As he continued to appraise Harry’s demeanour, his whole face began to shift; first the mouth went loose, then the plump cheekbones lifted the glasses up to the forehead, and now
the podgy little eyes, all crinkled and beady, started blinking; all features on the move like some slow, giant sloth.

If it wasn’t so mesmerising, Harry mused, it would have been frightful. ‘Like something out of a horror movie,’ Amy commented to him later.

Suddenly, the face relaxed, and everything fell back into place. ‘Well, Mr Blake, I must say you look more capable than some I’ve had to
contend with.’ He turned on his heel, calling for Harry to, ‘Follow me, young man!’

As they filed past the girl, she discreetly caught Harry’s attention, gestured to Mr Jacobs and made a face that would frighten the dead.

It took all of Harry’s self-control to keep from laughing out loud.

‘Be seated.’ Mr Jacobs gestured for Harry to park himself in the upright chair at the near end of the huge
desk. When Harry was comfortable, the older man ceremoniously settled his mounds of fat in the wide, executive leather chair. ‘Hmm!’ He looked at Harry, then he glanced down, then he looked again, then he began cracking his knuckles, making a sound that put Harry’s teeth on edge. ‘Hmm!’ Then again: ‘Hmm!’

Harry felt the urge to speak. ‘Excuse my ignorance, Mr Jacobs, sir, but I’m not quite sure
what a tallyman does.’

‘Really?’ The face crumpled like a sagging balloon.

He then proceeded to address Harry in that authoritative, nasal voice which was beginning to grate on his nerves. ‘A tallyman is the very backbone of this business,’ he announced proudly. ‘It has been that way since I opened just before Christmas in 1945.’

Harry duly waited, while the older man lost himself in a sea
of memories and pride.

All of a sudden, appearing self-conscious, he noisily cleared his throat. ‘As I was saying, the tallyman has been the link between Jacobs’ Emporium and the public at large, for as far back as the store itself has existed. He, or she as the case may be, is representative of our quality of service, and professional standing in the community.’

Harry urged him on. ‘Yes, I
understand all that. But what exactly does the tallyman
do
?’

The face blushed pink. ‘Oh, dearie me! I’ve been wandering again. So sorry! It’s a bad habit of mine. Anyway, what were we saying …? Oh yes.’

He went on hurriedly, ‘We currently employ seven salespeople, three of whom are permanently based in the store. The remaining four salesmen are what I call “mobile”, in that they also carry out
the responsibilities of the tallyman.’

Taking a deep invigorating breath, he elaborated, ‘A customer will come into the store and browse though our range of furniture and fittings, wherepon one of our salesmen, be it a dedicated floor person, or a tallyman, will then approach and assist, and when the customer makes a purchase, the paperwork is carried out in the usual way. From there, it depends
on whether the client pays in full, or whether they prefer to pay in instalments, and we have numerous customers who do exactly that.’

Harry waited patiently while Bernie Jacobs paused for breath.

‘On payment by instalment, the salesman will enter it all into his ledger, and the customer is issued with a little blue book, together with the number and amount of weekly payments required.’ Leaning
back in his chair he folded his arms. ‘Every week thereafter, the tallyman will call at the customer’s house, to collect payments, and issue a receipt.’

Harry needed to clarify. ‘So even though the tallyman would be partly based in the store, he will still be required to collect from his regular customers?’

‘Exactly right. Most tallymen prefer to be out on the road at the latter end of the week,
say Friday. There will, of course, be a
company car and necessary expenses. You must remember, the tallyman is an important ambassador for Jacobs’ Emporium, and as such I expect, and indeed insist, on the highest of moral and professional standards.’

He gave a nervous little cough. ‘I’m afraid there have been one or two indiscretions recently. The salesman responsible was very quickly given his
cards and shown the door. D’you understand what I’m saying, Mr Blake?’ His words were an obvious warning.

Harry nodded. ‘I believe I do, yes.’ He recalled the young woman’s words: ‘Then there’s the “other” kind if you know what I mean?’

Mr Jacobs was now asking Harry about his past work and present ambitions. Harry outlined how, after the war, he had worked on building sites for a firm of builders
for a while, then graduated to the offices, ‘where I dealt with all manner of things; like stock control, wages and accounts, liaising with the customers …’

‘Yes, I’m aware of that. After you telephoned Amy, she made a note of what you said. I have it here.’ Collecting the page from the desk, Mr Jacobs remarked, ‘I’m impressed with your many achievements, but,’ he referred to the point in question,
‘it says here that you returned to working on the building sites for personal reasons.’

‘That’s right, yes.’

‘May I ask why you would do that – go from office work back to labouring? Of course, you do understand that before I can make a decision, I will need to contact your former employers?’

Harry explained, ‘I went back to the building sites because it made fewer demands on my time. Although
I enjoyed my work at the office, it meant I was there for long hours … sometimes at weekends too, when I badly needed to be at home. Whereas on the sites I could work the hours I chose. There were no telephones or accountants to deal with, and I could arrange my working day to suit the situation.’

‘What situation would that be then?’

Bracing himself, Harry revealed the reason. ‘My wife was diagnosed
with a terminal illness; we both knew it was only a matter of time. I had to earn a living, yes, but she came first. I needed to be with her, you understand. Not only to console and support and to make the most of every minute available to us; there were practical things, like long stays in hospital, and our son to take care of.’

Pausing, he swallowed hard before going on to explain how, when
she lost her fight against the illness, he had come back to the place where he had grown up. ‘That’s the long and short of it,’ he concluded. ‘A very dear friend has taken me and my son in, until we find a place of our own. And now I need a new job.’

‘Hmm.’ The older man had listened intently to what Harry had to say, and now he had to make up his mind. ‘Wait outside,’ he instructed. ‘Amy will
get you a cup of tea. Have a walk about. Talk to people. See what you think. I’ll call you in presently.’

With that he ushered him out.

‘It looks good to me!’ Amy was delighted to have the company of this fine, good-looking fellow. ‘He kept you in there longer than the others,’ she announced cheekily. ‘I reckon he likes you.’

Harry made small talk for a time, then he wandered away and talked
with the salesmen. ‘As bosses go, he’s not all that bad,’ John told him. ‘A bit pompous at times, but fair and straight when needed.’

The same sentiments were echoed by everyone Harry chatted with, although: ‘He’s a hard taskmaster.’ That was Louise, the only woman in sales.

Harry went upstairs to the bed department, and was amazed at the sheer scale and diversity of items on offer. He went
across to the soft furnishings area with its wonderful displays of curtains and bedlinen, and the best selection of cushions he had ever seen, and now he was back downstairs amongst the displays of furniture, all set out as different rooms in the house. There were kitchens and living-rooms – here a piano and there a wall of pictures and paintings.