Live the Dream (33 page)

He could see her blackened face and burned clothes, and his heart sank like a stone inside him.

He dared not believe what his eyes were telling him.

In the month following the fire, Luke Hammond had to fight tooth and nail to hold his business together. Today, the fourth of January 1934, brought yet another meeting. Luke needed to persuade an old colleague to help him through what was proving to be one of the most difficult times of his life.

With Luke's help in the early days, Leonard Wrightson had climbed the ladder of success, but now, when the boot was on the other foot, he was not an easy man to deal with.

'You know you can trust me.' Luke felt he had bandied words long enough with the portly man seated behind the desk. 'Christ Almighty, Leonard! Have you forgotten how I kept you going when others wouldn't even give you the time of day? I carried you when money was short. There were times when I had to wait weeks for my payment, and I bent my own rules to store your goods when the warehouse was already full to bursting!' Angry at being doubted, he paced the floor. 'There's no risk,' he reaffirmed, 'so why the hell you're hesitating I don't know!'

The older man took out a cigar and, having lit it, he sucked hard on it while he studied Luke. 'You're not in danger of losing it all, are you?' he asked suspiciously. 'Don't tell me you were not insured?' Luke was not a man to neglect such an essential, but he did seem unusually keen to have him in his corner, Wrightson thought.

Luke's anger burst. 'Well, of course I was bloody insured. You know what a stickler I am for things like that.'

'In that case, you'll survive without my help.'

'Maybe I will. Maybe I won't!' Striding forward, Luke pressed his point. With his hands spread out on the desk and his face so close that the other man instinctively shifted back in his seat, he explained, 'It's nothing to do with insurance or how much money I've got in the bank. That is not my main concern.'

The fellow took another leisurely drag on his cigar. 'If it's not money, what is it then?'

'It's my
business
we're talking about. Thankfully, I've got most of my customers behind me now, but there are others, much like yourself, who forget too easily and need more convincing.'

Leonard was growing nervous. 'I hope you're not about to get nasty. If you are, then there's the door and you'd best leave right now, because I will not be bullied!'

Realising he might appear menacing, Luke stepped back. I'm no bully,' he protested. I'm a man who's spent years of hard work building a business I'm proud of, and if I don't fight my corner now, there'll be nobody else to fight it.'

Seeing how Luke was genuinely distressed, he had to admire his restraint, because if it had been himself that was in this position, he'd have smacked someone in the mouth. 'I can spare you a few minutes,' he said, 'but I'll promise nothing. So, if you're prepared to accept that, then I'm prepared to hear you out.' In fact, he was enjoying every minute of it.

Encouraged, Luke went on. 'Like I say, the insurers have paid out, so there's no problems in that direction. If I can only keep my customers happy, I'll soon be on top again.

On the practical side, I'm renting a sizeable warehouse while mine is rebuilt, and, thank God, three of the wagons went unscathed as they were out on deliveries, so as you can see, I'm just one wagon down, but I'll soon rectify that. You know me, Leonard,' he declared confidently. 'I never hang about.'

'It's true,' he grudgingly admitted. 'You're one of the few men I know who can keep one step ahead of the competition.'

'Oh, is that right?' Agitated, Luke banged his fist on the desk. 'So, if you know that, why the devil are you playing games with me?'

Leonard Wrightson took another, longer drag on his cigar. 'The thing is…" he blew the smoke out of his nostrils, '…I've got strict deadlines to meet, and my own customers to satisfy. I'm sorry you've had this setback, but you'll come up smelling of roses.' He could not disguise his envy. 'You always do.'

'I asked you what game you were playing, and now I'm beginning to see just what you're up to.' Luke snorted with indignation. 'You mean to set up against me, is that it?'

Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, the older man answered hesitantly, 'I've been offered a large, empty warehouse at a fraction of its value. It's made me wonder whether I might be best off storing my own goods…and happen poaching a few o' your customers into the bargain. I could even go into the delivery side of it. After all,.I'm doing well in my own field, and I've got spare money enough to buy a couple o' wagons. Matter o' fact, I might even make you an offer for your three, if you're looking to sell.' He took another drag on his cigar. 'You started out small. What's to stop me from doing the same?' His smile was evil. 'You know what they say…all's fair in love and war.'

As if he had been smacked between the eyes, Luke reeled backwards. He stared at Wrightson for a long minute thinking deeply on the other man's words. Then he saw what to do. Nodding his approval, he surprised Leonard. 'Why, there's not a thing in the world to stop you,' he answered. 'You're entitled to do what you please, and good luck to you, Leonard. I hope you do well.' He nodded in a friendly fashion. 'As there's nothing else to discuss, I'll bid you good day.'

In an instant the other man was on his feet and chasing after Luke, who had already started his way towards the door. 'Hang on a minute. There's no rush, is there? I mean…we haven't finished our conversation.'

Luke turned with a smile. 'Oh, I'm sorry, I thought we had.'

Realising he might have just made a formidable enemy, Wrightson invited hurriedly, 'Look here, Luke. Come back and sit down.'

'Thanks all the same,' Luke replied, 'but I've got things to do.' Smiling quietly to himself, he turned to leave.

Puzzled and a little afraid, the other man asked, 'What are you up to?'

'I'm not "up to" anything.'

'So you're not intending to turn the tables on me and poach my customers, are you?' He was well aware of Luke's respected standing among the local businessmen. Also, the very fact that most of them had vowed to stand by him was proof enough of the influence he carried.

Luke could almost read the other man's mind and he was delighted, yet when he answered, it was in a calm, cool manner. 'Like yourself, I cannot promise anything,' he said. 'I've already explained how I've worked long and hard to build up my business, and you know it isn't altogether the money. It's keeping alive what my father started many years ago…keeping it alive and building on it. I've always meant Hammonds to be the biggest company in this part of the world, and I mean to see it through…with or without you.' He paused before finishing, I'm not a devious man, but having said that, you can depend on me to do what I have to do, in order to get the business up and running full swing.'

Taking Luke's meaning, the other man was uncomfortable. 'And does that include stealing my customers?'

Luke answered carefully. 'I hadn't thought of that, but, like you said yourself, Leonard, all's fair in love and war. And who am I to argue?'

'No, no!' The other one laughed nervously. 'You've got me all wrong. I'm content enough with the work I've got.'

He knew he did not command the respect that Luke did, and he also knew that if Luke moved into his own area of expertise, he could soon be the loser. 'What happened to you could have happened to any one of us, and of course we should always support each other.'

'Oh, really?' It was all Luke could do not to laugh out loud, but he maintained an indifferent manner, asking casually, 'So, does that mean you want to retain my services?'

'Well, of course. Isn't that what this meeting was all about?'

'You're right, Leonard,' Luke readily agreed. 'That was my idea when I came to see you. Only, now that I think on it, I'm not certain I can accommodate you. You see, the temporary warehouse isn't as big as the old one. Of course, it'll be different when the new one is built, but it'll be tight for a time. It'll mean a bit of juggling here and there, but if I made the effort, I dare say I could accommodate you—if I put myself out a bit, that is.' He feigned a worried expression. 'In fact, I'm beginning to think I should never have come to see you at all. I mean, what with the old customers keeping faith with me, I'm not really sure I could altogether handle your contract as well.'

Fearing he had done himself more harm than he had done Luke, Wrightson gently argued his case. 'Look, I need to keep my stock on the move. I haven't got time for fitting out a new warehouse, and I'd have to find capable, trustworthy drivers, not to mention new wagons and other workers. No! On reflection it would be foolish to lay out that sort of money, especially when I don't have to.'

Luke showed no pity. 'I'm sorry. I don't see how-'

'Listen to me.' Interrupting Luke, Wrightson stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray and, taking a deep breath, he offered, 'An extra two per cent on top with every transaction. What do you say to that?'

At last, even though it was not in the way he'd intended, Luke had him where he wanted him. It was a good feeling. 'Three per cent!'

'Two and a half.'

Luke held out his hand. 'Done!'

Leonard Wrightson gave a sigh of relief. 'So, we're back in business, and no more nonsense about poaching each other's work,' he laughed. 'We've more than enough burdens on our backs as it is, wouldn't you say?'

Luke didn't 'say'. What he did was to draw up a rough, binding contract on either side and when that was signed by both parties in front of the secretary, he shook hands to conclude the deal.

'I'll be in touch,' he promised as he prepared to leave.

As he strode from the desk, the other man stopped him. 'Have they found the culprit yet?'

'Not yet, no.'

'And have they no idea who did it?'

Pursing his lips, Luke took his time in answering. 'If they have, they're not telling me.'

'I know the police are calling it arson, but what's
your
thinking on it?' Wrightson quizzed. 'Was it a deliberate act to put you out of business or an unfortunate accident?'

Luke was suddenly on the defensive. This turn of conversation was beginning to touch on deep issues that he would rather not think about. 'Your guess is as good as mine.' Disgruntled, he turned away for the second time. 'Still, I expect they'll get to the bottom of it before too long.'

He was almost at the door, when he was pulled up sharply by the other man's casual remark. 'Terrible shame about that young woman.'

Dropping his head as though in shame, Luke did not turn round. Instead he answered, almost inaudibly, 'Yes…dreadful thing.'

'What was that?' The other man began his way to the door.I didn't hear what you said?'

Luke strode on, through the door and into the outer hall. 'I've said all I mean to say on the matter,' he called out angrily, 'and I suggest you do the same!' With that he was out of the building and hurrying away down the street as though the devil was on his heels.

Later that evening, he was ensconced in his study at home. He did not begin on the pile of paperwork that littered his desk, though much "of it was urgent enough.

Instead, he paced the floor, sometimes pausing to stare out of the window, or at times hunched in the chair, head in hands, haunted by what had happened.

First, there was that poor blameless girl Daisy. Oh, the shock of discovering that the injured young woman trapped in the burning factory had been the little waitress from Tooley's Cafe.

Inevitably this made Luke think of the waitress's best friend, Amy. Thank God it had not been her in the blaze. Since the fire, whenever he went to the cabin, which was less and less as outside pressures increased, Luke had spent hours staring at Amy's lovely face in the painting. Did she still go to Tooley's, he wondered. Since she'd come to the cabin that second time he had stayed away from the cafe so as not to embarrass her. She was more than ever a part of the Tuesday dream now. He must see her again.

Then there was the truly chilling thought that the factory fire had been started deliberately and that someone hated him and wanted to destroy him that much. He had no idea who could have done such a thing.

When the knock came on the door he almost leaped out of his skin. 'Who is it?' His voice shook. I'm busy!'

The door inched open. 'It's only me.' For some unknown reason Sylvia had been unusually quiet these last two days, avoiding him at every turn, whereas in the immediate weeks following the fire, she had been dangerously agitated; so much so that the doctor had had to sedate her on several occasions. 'Can I come in?'

Before he could answer, she was inside. Closing the door behind her, she stood against it, her arms behind her back and a look of wildness in her eyes. 'It was you, wasn't it?'

Sensing trouble, Luke leaped out of the chair. 'What the hell are you talking about?'

She smiled, that evil little smile he had come to recognise so well. 'I know what you did.'

He looked her in the eye. 'Do you now?' He wondered how much she really did know.

She started forward. 'You thought I was in the building, didn't you? That's why you set fire to it.' She began trembling, her face alight with excitement. 'You tried to kill me, just like you did when you crept up behind me in the alley.' Nodding her head vigorously, she began gabbling, 'You think I don't know who it was that attacked me that night, but I do…it was
you.
You wanted me out of the way, so you could be with your fancy woman.' Wagging a finger, she had the look of someone demented. 'Ah! You didn't think I knew that, did you? You didn't think I'd seen you in the alley but I did! It was you! YOU WANT ME DEAD!'

'Calm down, Sylvia,' Luke said gently. 'You don't want to get all worked up.'

In the wink of an eye her mood changed. 'Don't kill me,' she sobbed. 'I didn't mean to do it. I'll never do it again!'

Desolate, he came forward, arms open wide. 'Come on, I'll get you a hot drink. You'd best take your tablets and go to bed.'

When he laid his hands on her, she shrank from him. 'Don't punish me,' she whimpered. 'I'm sorry. I'll be a good girl. I will.'