The Cobbler's Kids (24 page)

She’d been surprised to learn that he was a cobbler, even though it was his own business. She was also taken aback to discover that he had three kids, all of them still living at home.

Although this factor was off-putting it didn’t in any way dampen her determination to get to know him better; much better. By devious methods she had learned about a number of his shady dealings and was impressed by his cunning.

If she handled her approach right, she told herself, she’d be onto a winner. Mess it up and she wouldn’t get a second chance, he’d avoid her like the plague.

Falling over the bag of soles had been a sign from the heavens. She couldn’t believe her luck. What was more, the outcome had been better than her wildest dreams. He hadn’t put up any fight at all. Moving in with him had been a complete walkover.

She planned to go on living there, being treated as the lady of the house, for as long as she could. It meant putting up with his kids, of course, but even that had some advantages. Vera had a job, but she was used to doing all the cooking and cleaning. Eddy was also working and soon learned to keep out of her way. Benny had no choice but to accept her, because he knew he’d get skinned alive if she ever told his dad the truth about tripping over the bag of soles.

Michael Quinn had a vile temper at times, but he was pretty free with his money where booze was concerned. He was as mean as muck, though, when it came to handing over any housekeeping or money for clothes for the youngest kid. Still, she told herself, that wasn’t her problem. She didn’t have to try and manage on it.

Mike Quinn was also a bit free with his fists and thought nothing of lashing out at his kids when they annoyed him.

The day he lashed out at her, she told herself, she’d pack her bags and leave. One thing she wouldn’t stand for was being a punch bag. She’d had enough of that with one of the blokes she’d shacked up with briefly in the past.

Paddy Murphy had been a raw-boned Irishman. Most of the time he could charm the birds off the trees, and when he had money he’d throw it around like confetti. When he was in his cups, though, he was a different man altogether. Those times he was ready to fight anyone, even her, and she’d ended up with three broken ribs to prove it.

A few weeks later he’d turned on her again and given her two black eyes. Right there and then she’d decided to leave. First thing the next morning she’d packed her bags and walked out on him. He’d come running after her, begged her on bended knee to go back to him, but she knew better than to do that.

‘Leopards don’t change their bloody spots,’ she told him. ‘Find yourself another punch bag.’

For a while afterwards she thought she’d cut off her nose to spite her face; she was so hard up that she’d had to go charring. It was then that she’d managed to get taken on as a barmaid and worked her way through most of the boozers in Scotland Road and Great Homer Street.

Now it looked as though she was going to have to do the same again, or find someone else to keep her. She certainly wasn’t going to risk staying at Quinn’s place, not if what his daughter Vera had said was true.

‘Did you mean all that drivel you were spouting about your dad killing your mam?’ she asked Vera.

Vera shrugged. ‘What’s it to you?’

‘Interested, that’s all. I never heard anybody else ever say anything like that about him before.’

‘It’s true all right.’

Di tried to keep her voice non-committal. ‘So what happened? How did he do it?’

‘Like I said, he pushed her down the stairs.’

Di’s eyes widened. ‘Here, in this place? Down these stairs?’

‘That’s right. From top to bottom.’

‘Oh my God!’

‘If you must know, my mam broke her neck,’ Vera said in a hushed voice.

Di’s hand crept up to her own throat and held on to it, her face registering sheer terror.

‘Anything else you want to know, or can I get on and clear the dishes?’ Vera asked coldly.

Di didn’t answer. Walking unsteadily, holding tight to the balustrade, she went upstairs to her bedroom.

Twenty minutes later she came out onto the landing and called out to Benny to come and give her a hand.

‘He’s busy doing his homework, what do you want?’ Vera asked, coming into the passageway and looking up the stairs.

‘What on earth are you doing?’ she asked as she saw the battered suitcases on the landing and Di struggling with two loaded shopping bags.

‘What does it look like? I’m leaving!’ Di puffed.

Vera looked bewildered. ‘What do you mean, leaving? Where are you going?’

‘As far from this house as I can get! You don’t think I’m going to stay here after what you told me about your mother, do you?’ she babbled hysterically. ‘I want to be away before your dad comes back.’

‘Why?’ Vera looked bemused. ‘I thought you knew, you seemed to know everything else about us,’ she said with sour amusement.

‘Of course I’d heard the rumours, but I wouldn’t have moved in here if I’d had even an inkling that there was any truth to them.’

‘Now you want to get out in case the same thing happens to you!’

‘Too right I do.’

‘Well, what a pity I didn’t tell you sooner,’ Vera smirked. ‘I had no idea you were so sensitive.’

‘Don’t be so smart. If you’ve got any sense you’ll get out of here yourself. You never know with a man like that. If he’s killed once and got away with it then he won’t think twice about doing it again. He can be violent, you know that to your cost.’

‘Taken you long enough to find that out,’ Vera said with a humourless smile.

‘I’ve known ever since I first moved in here that he’s free with his fists. Look at the way he was always thumping your brothers.’

‘That never seemed to bother you. I don’t remember you ever sticking up for Eddy,’ Vera challenged.

‘None of my business how he brought his kids up, now was it.’ Di hedged.

‘You thought you were safe because you had something on him,’ Vera sneered. ‘You blackmailed your way into our lives.’

‘I haven’t time to bandy words with you, Vera Quinn. I want to be well away from this place before your old man comes home again. I’ve lived with violence and I don’t intend to get involved in anything like that ever again.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll gladly help you get your bags down. And so will Benny,’ she confirmed. Her voice rose as she called out his name.

‘I thought you said he was studying and couldn’t be disturbed?’

‘He wouldn’t want to miss out on this treat,’ Vera told her. ‘Getting rid of you and getting our life back to how it was before you came here is something to celebrate, I can tell you.’

‘You’ve never liked me, not from the first day I came here, have you?’ Di spat at her.

Vera looked at her balefully. ‘Do you blame me, the way you’ve treated me and the way you’ve expected me to clean up after you?’

They were all breathless by the time they’d brought Di’s cases downstairs and put them out on the pavement.

‘Can the two of you help me get them to the tram stop?’ Di asked.

‘You’ve not told us where you’re going?’ Benny said as he picked up the suitcases.

‘You must think I’m bloody daft if you think I’m going to tell you that,’ Di said. ‘Your dad’d be after me like a dose of salts if I told you.’

‘Oh no, we wouldn’t dream of telling him where to find you,’ Vera promised. ‘We’re only too glad to see the back of you.’

Vera and Benny were both in bed when Michael Quinn came home. They heard him lumber up to his bedroom and knew from the way he crashed into furniture and slammed his bedroom door that he was extremely drunk.

His roar of annoyance when he discovered that Di Deverill was not there waiting for him had them both shaking with fright.

He stormed back downstairs, calling out her name, then came back up again thumping on their bedroom doors, demanding to know where she was.

When neither of them answered he barged into Benny’s room, dragged him out of bed and began shaking him.

Benny wasted no time arguing. Struggling free, his fist shot out and landed square on his father’s chin knocking him into a quivering heap just as Vera came running to see what was happening.

The sight of her father looking completely dazed and nursing a bruised jaw as he retreated back into his own bedroom made her gasp.

‘Benny!’ She stared at her brother, suddenly aware of how big and brawny he’d become. ‘Whatever have you done!’

‘Something I’ve been waiting to do for years! I’ve taught him a lesson that he’ll remember.’

‘Oh, Benny! You shouldn’t have hit him,’ Vera protested weakly. ‘It’s only natural that he’s upset about Di clearing off.’

‘Huh! If you take up with a slag then you should expect her to scarper when the mood takes her.’

‘Benny! Where did you hear expressions like that?’ she gasped.

‘I’ve heard them since the first day I started at grammar school,’ he told her derisively. ‘Everyone knows about Di Deverill. They didn’t waste any time in putting me wise to what sort of person she was and teasing the life out of me once they knew she was shacked up with my dad.’

‘Benny, I’m sorry … I had no idea.’ Vera’s eyes brimmed with tears and she stretched out a hand to touch Benny’s arm. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

He shrugged. ‘What good would that have done? Anyway,’ he grinned, ‘I thought you had enough on your plate as it was keeping house, cooking and cleaning and waiting on her without rubbing your nose in it, or bleating to you about it.’

Vera shook her head sadly. ‘You should have told me, Benny, I really am sorry.’

‘Oh don’t be. In some ways it was a good thing. I knew I couldn’t fight them all, there were too many. Instead I vowed I’d show them that I was better than them. That’s why I’ve been working so hard. I was determined to come top in class and beat them all. I did, too, in most subjects.’

‘Benny … I had no idea …’

There was so much confusion and regret on Vera’s face that Benny laughed wryly.

‘I was only being teased, it was far worse for you,’ he told her. ‘When she and Dad got pissed out of their minds, and then spewed up everywhere when they came home, you were the one who had to clear up after them the next day, now, weren’t you!’

Michael Quinn seemed to take Di Deverill’s desertion very much to heart. He wouldn’t talk to Vera the next morning. When he came through from the shop the next evening, his eyes glittered angrily whenever they met hers. He seemed to blame her for what had happened.

He ate his evening meal in silence, shoved his empty plate to one side, drank the cup of tea she put in front of him then pushed back his chair and walked out of the room without a word.

Vera and Benny exchanged glances as they heard him stumping around upstairs as if getting ready to go out for the evening.

When he left the house he was wearing a dark grey suit, watch chain gleaming across the front of his waistcoat, dark trilby settled full and square on his brushed-back hair.

‘Pub crawl?’ Benny asked, looking at Vera, his eyebrows lifting speculatively.

‘I imagine so,’ she agreed as she drained the teapot into her cup and added a dash of milk and a spoonful of sugar.

‘He’s probably gone looking for her,’ she added as she stirred her tea thoughtfully.

‘Do you think he will find her?’

‘With any luck, no! She was so scared when she heard about what had happened to Mam that she couldn’t get away fast enough.’

‘She might have had second thoughts by now,’ Benny said. ‘She had an easy time whilst she was living here, what with you doing all the housework and Dad spending every penny he earned on booze and fags for her.’

‘No, she was too scared. From something she said I think it brought back unpleasant memories for her about someone she’d been living with before she came here.’

‘Well, as long as we are free of her, that’s all that matters,’ Benny said unfeelingly.

‘Provided it doesn’t upset Dad too much. He was in a black mood when he went out tonight, but in a different way from usual. He was so cold and distant that he frightened me, Benny.’

‘He’ll have a skinful, come rolling home and sleep it off, and in a couple of days’ time he’ll be over it,’ Benny told her optimistically.

It wasn’t anywhere near as simple as that, though. Michael Quinn certainly had a skinful that night. He got so drunk that he couldn’t stand up, and two men, who were complete strangers to Vera and Benny, brought him home and helped him into the living room.

He sat slumped in his armchair, his eyes glazed and his breathing laboured. He looked so odd that Vera thought he might be going to have a heart attack.

A few minutes later he was violently sick.

She thought he would feel better after that, but far from it. The physical symptoms improved, but he seemed to be so distracted and strange that Vera felt very alarmed.

‘Benny, do you think we ought to get a doctor to come and see him?’ she said worriedly.

Benny pulled a face. ‘What would we tell him? He’s not ill. He’s had too much to drink and been sick, but he’s over that …’

‘I know, but he’s so depressed and distant. It’s as if he’s not with us.’ She lowered her voice, ‘I’m not sure that he knows where he is or who we are.’

‘He’s still drunk, though,’ Benny said diffidently. ‘Do you think we should try and get him up to bed?’

The moment they tried to move him, he fought them like a trapped tiger.

‘Perhaps we should give up and leave him where he is in his chair,’ Benny suggested.

‘You’re probably right. I’ll get some blankets,’ Vera agreed. ‘Will you loosen his tie and see if you can take off his jacket?’

Between them they made him comfortable. Eventually he drifted off to sleep, emitting a deep guttural snore with every breath he took. Vera put the fireguard in place and they quietly made their way upstairs to their own beds.

Vera wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep before the disturbance roused her. Benny heard it at about the same time and called out to her.

Concerned, they both went downstairs, wondering what they were going to find.

Benny led the way. When he pushed open the door to the living room he let out a long, low whistle. The place was in utter disarray.