The Broken Man (22 page)

‘About what? Tell me what’s bothering you. Please, Sal, let me help. Remember how in the worst of my troubles, you told me not to shut you out? I’m asking you the same now. Please, don’t shut me out.’

For what seemed an age, Sally did not reply. And then, in the softest of whispers, she confided, ‘I can’t make him complete. I can never give him the one thing he truly wants.’ Hanging her head down, she continued, ‘I don’t know what to do, Anne. All I can think is to let Mick go. To give him a chance to find happiness with someone else. Someone who can give him what I never can.’

Embarrassed and ashamed, she looked away. ‘When we first realised something was stopping me from getting pregnant, I underwent so many different treatments. Mick did the same, but it wasn’t his fault. It was me. In the end, they said I should reconcile myself to the fact that I can never have children.’

She took a deep breath. ‘So now that you know, I’m sure you can imagine how hard it is. Mick is my life, and it really hurts that I will never be able to give him the child he so desperately wants … that we
both
want. I know how much he misses out on being a father. I’ve seen him looking at the parents with children in the park, and it’s so cruel.’

As Sally poured her heart out, Anne realised why the business of Mick going to the pub had been such a problem for her.

‘It’s unnatural for a man not to father a child.’ Sally had suddenly shifted the focus of the conversation. ‘The barmaid deliberately keeps making a play for him. She makes me afraid, Anne. She’s recently divorced and she’s got two small children. She even shows Mick photographs of them. It’s as though she knows I can’t give Mick the children he longs for.’

When, inevitably, the tears began to flow, Anne held Sally close. It was all the comfort she could give.

Left alone in the house, Mick closed his eyes and enjoyed the quiet. For a time he had nothing on his mind. Then he had everything on his mind.

He thought about work, and all the things he had to do. He mentally back-tracked on his day at work and the lorries he had loaded up at the warehouse, satisfying himself that he had not missed anything; that the orders had been properly sent out and all the paperwork was done.

He thought about money. Thankfully, he and Sally had good jobs, so financially they were quite comfortable.

He thought about the future stretching far ahead of him, and he hoped it would be with Sally, because without her, there was no future worth having.

Inevitably, his thoughts reluctantly lingered on the cruel fact that Sally could not conceive. Yet even though the idea of never being a father cut him deep, he felt hugely compensated by the fact that he had a wife in a million. And besides, a man can never have everything, or there would be nothing left to yearn for.

He quickly shifted his thoughts to his mates down at the pub. Should he meet up with them? Or should he not?

He thought about all the work waiting to be done. There was a dripping tap in the kitchen, and last night he had heard one of the roof slates rattling in the breeze. That was another thing that needed fixing. Then there was the curtain rail in the back bedroom.

Oh, yes! The curtain rail.

He thought about the way Sally had grimaced when he mentioned going down the pub.

He knew she suspected the barmaid had her eye on him, even though she also knew he would never look at another woman. And why should he, when he already had the best woman in the world by his side?

Sighing, he shook his head, ‘Fancy Sal thinking I would ever entertain that barmaid!’ Still, even if he wasn’t interested, it was still flattering to know a pretty woman had an eye for him.

Getting out of the chair, he thought he’d better fix that curtain rail, before going to the pub.

Going through the hallway to collect the shed key from the kitchen, he paused by the wall mirror to flex his muscles. ‘You’ve still got it, my boy!’ He smiled. ‘Oh, yes! You’ve still got it!’

A few minutes later, he went out of the back door and down the garden to his little tool shed. Glancing around at the many shelves, overflowing with bric-a-brac, he groaned. One of these weekends he’d have to spend a few hours staightening all this lot out. Jeez! It was like a junk shop.

He raked the shelves with his eyes. Some of the stuff had been here since they’d moved in.

He searched the bottom shelf for the big black toolbox, but it was nowhere to be found. Then he looked up and spotted it on the top shelf, sitting awkwardly beside an old packing case. He decided he could just reach it without fetching the ladder from the garage.

Finding it more difficult than he’d first thought, he tugged harder at the toolbox. ‘Come on, dammit!’ Something appeared to be holding it back.

One more huge tug and he had it almost free, but when he finally slid the toolbox out, the packing case tumbled out with it.

Cursing, he collected the case to replace it on the top shelf, but the lid flapped open, revealing a number of items from the time before he was married.

Intrigued, he followed his instinct to have a little rummage in the old case, which in the event, turned out to be greatly nostalgic. There was a multitude of memorabilia from his past, and some precious items he had thought were gone for ever.

There was his old fishing rod; his brown football boots, all cracked and dirty, and stiff as planks after years of being in the damp. There was a pack of cards and a set of darts from the carefree days when he was a young man, with a young man’s wayward habits.

It was like his early life was unfolding right before his eyes.

With most of the contents now laid out on top of a wooden box, he dug deeper. He drew out an old football, now sagging and past use.

A moment later, his fingers gripped what felt like a book.

As he drew it out, he did not instantly recognise what it was. At first glance, it looked to be a brown leather ledger. It was only when he blew away the dust that he realised it was an old photograph album.

The photographs were mostly damaged, with bent corners and cracks; also the damp had badly marred the initial one or two.

There was a lovely photograph of his parents, the original of which was framed and standing proud on the sideboard inside the house.

Alongside that photograph was the last photo of his mother, before she passed on.

When Mick’s father was killed in an explosion at work, his mother lost the will to live. After a difficult year, she too was gone. People understood that her grief was too hard for her to bear, especially as the two of them had been inseparable since their schooldays, and were absolutely devoted to each other.

Mick had the smaller print of his mother’s photograph in his wallet, but now, when he held the original in his hand, he felt too emotional for words.

Quickly, he began flicking through the album, eager to put it safely away.

As he folded it shut, he saw the corner of what appeared to be a torn photograph, jutting out from between the top of two pages stuck together.

Curious, he eased the photograph out, and was riveted by what he saw.

The photograph was partly damaged at the corners, but he instantly recognised it, and it took him back to the days when he was in his twenties.

The photo was of himself, and a girl. Mick remembered her vividly: small-built, with dainty features and wild, curly hair. She had the softest eyes, and a pretty smile, like sunshine on a cloudy day.

He was shocked. ‘Good grief!’ He laughed out loud. ‘Peggy Farraday … the girl I nearly married!’

Mesmerised, he took the photograph over to the door, all the better to see it. Leaning against the doorjamb, he cast his eyes over the girl in the picture.
Southend!
He remembered it like it was yesterday. They’d been going together for only a few days and had decided on a day out in Southend, with a couple of friends.

He relived the day in his mind.

It was raining, but they were having so much fun, they didn’t want to go home. So, after the other two had gone, he and his girl found a telephone box and rang their parents to tell them they were staying over with their mates, although they’d already gone back, after promising not to say anything.

All they could afford between them was an overnight room at a tatty old boarding house. And all because Mick had spent the best part of his money on a silver locket she’d seen and loved.

He couldn’t help but smile at the memory and the way it had turned out, and now he was laughing out loud. He recalled how the curtains were paper-thin, and the springs in the bed creaked and groaned, but they hadn’t cared a jot.

Now, the laughter died away and his mood grew serious. He had dated a number of girls, but Peggy had been his first real love.

With his finger he traced her small, pretty face, now looking up at him from the photograph. Up to that night she hadn’t even let him touch her in that certain way, but once they got into bed, she was amazing … In fact, when it got to four in the morning, he hadn’t given a damn whether he got any sleep or not.’

For a while he sat remembering how it was.

It was strange, though, how Fate took you one way and then the other. He looked down again on Peggy’s smiling face. They might have gone on to be regular sweethearts and ended up getting married, but they kind of drifted apart after that weekend.

He tried to recall the exact date. That weekend in Southend …
Must have been, what, going on for fourteen years now.

He took a moment to gaze at the photograph. It wasn’t meant to be … but if the rumours were right, she’d got herself a good catch – some bloke with his own business. As for Mick, he’d found the loveliest girl … name of Sally. And he considered himself to be a very lucky man.

Thinking of Sally put a smile on his face. If Peggy and her man were as happy as he and Sally, she wouldn’t go far wrong, he thought.

Quickly now, he folded his old life back into the packing case.

He had no reason not to keep the photograph, so he packed it away with everything else.

He replaced the case on the top shelf, collected his tools and returned to the house, a smile on his face.
Who’d have thought it, eh? A real jolt from the past …

Then he made a start on the curtain rail, keen to please Sally. Anything to make her happy.

It took him all of twenty minutes to fix the curtain rail. Afterwards, he stood back to view his handiwork, thinking he’d earned a pint and a catch-up with his mates. He gave a cheeky little grin. There was nothing like a chat and a laugh with your old mates to make a man feel worthy.

Even as he climbed the stairs to get himself ready, the romance from the past was already gone from his mind.

CHAPTER TEN

M
ISS MARTIN LISTENED
intently, while the officer explained, ‘We’ve held on to these personal items for too long. They were passed to us by the new tenants of the Carters’ former home. We quite overlooked them and have no legal reason to keep them now.’

Miss Martin was curious. ‘But I understood the Carter case was not yet closed. I was of the opinion that because there were no witnesses to the event, and also a certain lack of evidence from the parties involved, it was never actually proved that Edward Carter had caused his wife’s death. Indeed, according to the newspaper reports, his wife never once claimed that he was responsible for the injuries that killed her. Surely, if he had caused her death, she would have said so, don’t you think?’

‘It’s not for me to say, but your observations are correct. You would be surprised, however, to know that in matters such as these, nothing is ever black and white. For my part, all I can do is to apologise for the length of time we’ve retained these personal possessions.’

‘Oh, well, at least they’re here now, and Adam will be relieved to have some things of his mother’s, I’m sure.’

‘Of course, and like I say, I only wish they were returned earlier. It’s only now, with Peggy Carter laid to her rest, and Edward Carter sentenced, that we thought to return these files and properties. Having said that, and even though he’s proven to be a very dangerous and violent man, we’re still not fully satisfied.’

‘In what way?’

‘I’m afraid all I can say is that we discovered certain documents hidden away amongst old papers that we removed from the house. We suspect there has been another breach of the law, which if proven, could lengthen Carter’s sentence quite considerably.’

‘What kind of documents?’

The officer gave himself a mental warning. He had a weakness for being drawn in too far. ‘I’m sorry, but I am not authorised to discuss that.’

‘Well, whatever it is, I’m sure I don’t need to know. All I’m concerned about is placing young Adam with a good family.’

Miss Martin was slightly miffed that the officer had cut short the conversation, just when it caught her imagination.

Ready to see him away, she stood up. ‘I’m sorry, but if there is nothing else, I’m shortly expecting to receive a family, who might be the right one for the boy.’

‘Everything personal to Adam is in that box,’ he assured her, producing an official paper, which she duly signed as temporary guardian.