The Cobbler's Kids (29 page)

‘Do you really mean that, Vera? That you are pleased we’ve met up again?’ The inflexion in his voice as well as the eager look on his face warned her to be careful.

She knew they’d been the best of friends when they’d been at school in Wallasey, but that was a whole lifetime ago. They had both grown up in such very different circumstances. Any feelings he may have had for her then had been childish ones.

She’d enjoyed his company in those days, too. She’d preferred playing with him than with her own brothers, but perhaps that had been because he was nearer her age than they were. He had been a friend of Eddy’s, of course, and in those days anything that Eddy had she’d always wanted to share.

If her family had stayed in Wallasey, and she had grown up seeing Jack Winter every day of her life, then she would probably have tired of his company long before now, she told herself.

But would she? Discreetly she studied his profile as he concentrated on the boot he was resoling. His brown hair flopped forward over his brow in such an appealing way that she felt her heart beat faster. The determined set of his chin and the tilt of his head endeared him to her.

When he looked up and she saw the warmth in his hazel eyes, and the ready smile on his face, her heart pounded. She knew that instance that what she felt for him was more than mere gratitude because he was working so hard on their behalf. Her feelings went deeper than that. An inner glow seemed to fill her whenever she was with him.

Resolutely, she pulled herself together, knowing that under no circumstances must she allow herself to become involved in anything more than a good working relationship. She must never for a moment forget how important Jack Winter was to her family as a manager of their business. Falling in love with him was too great a risk.

She’d given her heart away once, to Steve Frith, and look where that had got her. She’d been so upset when he’d walked out on her that she’d felt there was nothing left to live for.

The horrendous memory of the incident that had followed that – the attempted rape by her father’s crony, Bill Martin – came flooding back to her.

She’d tried desperately hard to blot the scene from her mind. By concentrating on her day-to-day problems she had practically succeeded. At night, though, lying there in the dark, too tired to sleep, there were times when she remembered the shameful details all too vividly. How could she ever become romantically involved ever again?

Although Rita and Eddy were still planning to get married, Rita was no longer a close friend to Vera. When they did meet up, Rita was so full of all the things happening in her own life that she rarely talked of anything else. And she still refused to come to the house, no matter how often she invited her to do so.

‘Not on your life!’ Rita told her. ‘Not after what your father did to me. I don’t want to be groped by him ever again, thank you very much!’

Vera didn’t blame her for not wanting to see her father, but she did think that Rita was making more of the matter than she needed to do. She was sure it had only been a bit of silliness on her dad’s part because he’d had too much to drink, and that really he’d meant no harm.

Unfortunately, Rita saw it in a different light. But remembering the horror she’d felt herself over what had happened when Bill Martin had attacked her, Vera could understand why Rita was determined to keep her distance. It meant, though, that there was no one she could share her worries with.

Even though she had strong feelings for Jack Winter, and was aware that he liked her a great deal, Vera felt she couldn’t allow him to get any closer. She knew she was letting the fact that she’d been let down by Steve Frith and the horrible incident with Bill Martin scar her mind, but Jack’s friendship meant so much to her that she couldn’t bear the thought of losing it.

Jack Winter had always spent a great deal of his time thinking about Vera Quinn. She had never really been out of his thoughts since they’d been at school together as small kids. He’d been very upset when she had simply vanished from his life. Even so, he was still shocked that when they met up again after so many years he felt more interested in her than ever.

She’d changed, but that wasn’t surprising as it had been fifteen years. Then she’d been a bit of a madcap, but with her shiny black hair cut into a bob that framed her face, her bright blue eyes and rosy cheeks, he’d always thought she looked like Snow White. She still did, too, only a much more grown-up, serious version.

Now she had a calm, reserved air about her, and her eyes, although still a startling blue, were thoughtful rather than mischievous.

Her mind was razor-sharp when it came to dealing with business matters. She might not be physically capable of repairing boots and shoes, but she understood all that was involved and dealt with any problems that arose in an efficient manner that impressed him.

He’d changed, too, from a kid dressed in short grey flannel pants and a knitted jersey, who had scabby-knees and scuffed boots, to a respectable hard-working snob who wanted to make something of his life. That was why he’d been so eager to get a manager’s job. The next step was to have a business of his own.

He’d learned to stand on his own two feet when he’d been sixteen and his mother had remarried. He didn’t like or dislike her new husband, but he knew he couldn’t live under the same roof as him, so he’d moved out. He’d found digs in New Brighton and quite enjoyed the freedom. His landlady was middle-aged, a fairly good cook and kept the place spotless.

There was plenty to do in New Brighton, even in the winter when the holidaymakers and day-trippers weren’t there, so he was quite content with his lot. At least, he had been until he’d met up with Vera again and realised that he wanted more from life than he already had. He needed a home and family of his own and Vera figured prominently in his scheme of things.

Vera’s problems troubled him and he tried to think of some way of making life easier for her, knowing full well the strain she must be under.

He kept wondering where he stood with her. She had been overjoyed to see him and happy to reminisce about their childhood escapades.

Friendship based on schoolday memories was not what he wanted, though. His feelings for Vera ran much deeper than that. He’d gone out with quite a few girls, but none of them had ever meant anything to him. He’d had fun, but it was merely a passing phase. None of them had dislodged the memories of a dark-haired, blue-eyed girl who’d captured his heart when he’d been too young to know that he was in love.

Jack cared a lot about Vera and wished he could reduce her worries. It irked him the way young Benny managed to keep well out of it all. He’d been out working at fifteen, not still at school like Benny.

He gathered from what Vera had said that Benny had no interest at all in the shop, which was a great pity for the family business because it was unlikely that Michael Quinn would ever put in a full day’s work ever again. His attacks were not only becoming more frequent, but were increasing in severity and lasting longer.

It worried Jack to think of Vera being in the same house as her father when he was in one of his attacks. If you spoke to him he looked right through you. It was as if he didn’t know anyone, or was even aware of where he was. He seemed to be holding conversations with imaginary people, waving his hands in the air and threatening everyone around him.

Jack had felt quite astonished by the way Michael would pull himself up to his fullest height, square his shoulders and become transformed into a man of incredible strength. He would lift pieces of furniture around as if they were made of cardboard, piling them one on top of the other to form a barricade.

His own father had suffered from shell shock when he’d come home from the war, but he had never been violent. Nor could he ever remember him going to the lengths that Michael Quinn did to protect himself from the enemy.

In his father’s case the bouts of fear had caused him to shiver and tremble so much that he couldn’t hold a cup or even sit still. If an attack came on while he was in bed his trembling was so severe that the entire bed would shake.

His father’s spasms had lasted for anything up to a couple of hours and by the end of it he was so drained that he was as weak as a kitten. He would lie there limp and helpless, either with his eyes closed or staring blindly into the distance, saying nothing and taking no notice of anyone.

At first it had distressed his mother a great deal. But once she realised there was nothing she could do to help him she had hardened her heart and waited for him to recover from each episode in his own good time.

When the attacks became so frequent that he had barely recovered from one before another started he had been admitted to hospital. There they kept him sedated for most of the time.

Jack had no idea what sort of medication they’d given him, but gradually he had drifted into a twilight world of his own. He barely recognised any of them and sometimes it seemed pointless visiting him. Whenever he’d done so, he found that sitting by the side of the bed, holding his father’s hand, not knowing what to say, had left him feeling wretched for days afterwards.

The end, when it came, left the entire family feeling more relieved than sorrowing. This was especially so for his mother, who had foreseen what the outcome would be long before anyone else.

Jack still found it distressing to think about his father. He had gone off to war so fit and healthy and returned a complete wreck. He knew he was only one of millions in the same boat, but it seemed such a terrible waste.

His mother had been a great deal stronger, refusing to give way and become a grieving widow. She had got on with her life, and, to the surprise of family and friends, she had even got married again.

Jack felt desperately sorry for Vera because he suspected that the worst was still to come and he wished he could do more to help her. It still brought a lump to his throat to think about his own dad lying in a hospital bed, unsure of where he was and unable to recognise the faces of the people who loved him the most.

There were times when Jack wondered if he ought to warn Vera about what could happen, but decided against doing so since every case was different. There was no point in adding to her worries, he told himself.

All he could do was try and be there for her when she needed him. To stand by her and give her all the support he could when the time came.

For all that, Jack’s conscience worried him every time he saw Michael Quinn in one of his tearing rages. He could harm himself, but, even more important as far as he was concerned, he could do Vera a serious injury.

Several times he tried to talk to Benny about it, but he sensed that the subject of his father’s illness frightened him. His way of avoiding what was going on was to concentrate solely on his schoolwork.

‘I don’t know much about it. You should talk to our Vera,’ he would prevaricate. ‘She understands about Dad’s problems. She always tells me to leave her to see to him whenever he has one of his attacks.’

‘I know all about that,’ Jack admitted, ‘but I don’t think it is safe for her to be left to cope with him on her own.’

‘Why not? She manages all right.’

Jack shook his head. ‘Not always. Your dad is terribly strong when he is in the throes of an attack. Sometimes he gets quite violent and I’m worried about what might happen to Vera one day when he loses control and lashes out at her.’

Benny looked uncomfortable. ‘I know that does happen sometimes, but she’s always ready for him. Up until now she’s always been able to dodge out of the way whenever he’s hit out.’

‘Or that’s what she’s told you!’

‘What do you mean?’ Benny asked uneasily.

‘How do you think she gets all those bruises on her arms? And sometimes there are cuts as well as bruises on her face!’

‘Are you saying that those are caused when my Dad’s flailing his arms around?’ Benny exclaimed in alarm.

‘That’s right! One of these days he’ll hit her so hard that he’ll knock her unconscious.’

Benny ran a hand through his thick hair and looked overwhelmed. ‘Are you certain about this?’

‘Quite sure! She tries to cover up the marks and bruises on her face with cream and powder, but they’re there all right.’

‘Well, I didn’t know. She’s never said anything to me,’ Benny said defensively. ‘What do you want me to do about it? I can tell you now that Vee won’t take any notice of anything I say.’

‘What about Eddy? Does he know how ill he is?’

‘I don’t know,’ Benny shrugged. ‘He’s away at sea, isn’t he.’

‘Perhaps you should tell him exactly what is going on, then.’

Benny shrugged again. ‘He knows about what happens when Dad’s in one of his moods. That’s why he gave up his job at Cammell Laird’s and went to sea. Dad used to thump him. He never had much time for Eddy, they were always rowing.’

‘Why was that?’

‘Dad was always calling him a runt because he’s a short-arse. Dad thinks he should be at least as tall and broad shouldered as he is.’

‘Like you are … like Charlie was.’

Benny frowned. ‘I never knew Charlie. He died the year before I was born. How well did you know him? He was at the same school as you and Eddy and our Vee, wasn’t he?’

‘Yes, we were all at Manor Road School. He was in a higher class than me, though. I was in the same year as Vera.’

‘Vee never told me about that!’ Benny exclaimed.

‘We were all at the same school. We all used to play together; Vee, Eddy and the rest of the gang.’

‘Eddy is going to be very surprised next time he comes ashore to find you working in Dad’s shop.’

‘Yes, he probably will be. When is he due home again?’

‘Any day now, I should think. He’s been away for almost six months.’

Jack gave a silent whistle. ‘As long as that? Then he won’t have any idea that your dad is now a great deal worse than when he left.’

‘Not unless his girlfriend, Rita Farthing, has written and told him. I don’t suppose she has mentioned it, though, because she probably doesn’t know either. She never comes near here and Vee doesn’t seem to see much of her these days. They used to be the best of friends, but they fell out over something or the other and stopped seeing each other.’