Many a Tear Has to Fall, page 19
‘Where are you going?’
‘Two can play at this game, Ma,’ he muttered, and left.
Monica ran as if she was being chased by a banshee. Her grandmother had frightened her with tales of these unearthly Irish female spirits when she was a little girl. Was she making a mistake thinking that Pete and Peggy were the right people to speak to about Tommy? Maybe she should have confronted Tommy herself and told him just what she thought of him hurting so many people by his behaviour? She had rejected the thought of hurrying home and telling her mother Cissie, who was one of Bernie’s elder sisters, of his whereabouts, because she would have told her brothers, and Monica – having told them of their youngest sister’s death – did not like to think about what they would do to Tommy if they got their hands on him.
At last the library was in sight. She turned the corner and went up the street where Marty and Irene’s house was situated. She banged on the door. It opened that quickly, she thought Pete must have been in the parlour and seen her coming.
‘What are you doing here, Monica?’ he asked.
‘I’ve something to tell you. Can I come in?’ she gasped, stumbling over the threshold.
Pete grabbed her arm to prevent her from falling. Then he helped her up the lobby and into the kitchen. ‘Look who’s here, Peg.’
Peggy set the lemon-coloured matinee coat she was knitting aside and stared at Monica. ‘What’s up?’
‘It’s your Tommy,’ Monica said breathlessly. ‘I know where his garage is.’
Both Peggy and Pete went very still.
Then Peggy asked, ‘Where?’
Pete said, ‘Have you told anyone else?’
‘I spoke to your mam, but then your big brother had to come in, didn’t he! So I beat it. Can I have a drink? I’m parched.’
Peggy said, ‘I’ll make a cup of tea.’ She hurried out into the back kitchen but was back in moments. ‘So what did Dougie have to say?’
‘Pete’s mam thought he was just the person we needed, but I didn’t.’
Pete and Peggy exchanged glances. ‘D’you think your mam will have told him what I said to her?’ Monica asked.
Pete sat down and stretched out his damaged leg. ‘Depends on what he said to her.’
‘I didn’t tell your mam where Tommy is,’ said Monica swiftly. ‘I wanted to tell you two first. I thought you’d know what to do.’
For a moment Pete looked at her blankly, and then Peggy said, ‘You surprise me, Monica. I thought after what happened with your Aunt Bernie, you’d want Tommy punished.’
Monica sat down on the sofa. ‘That’s how most of the family feel, but in my opinion there’s worse people around who get away with murder. I’ve had time to think. Aunt Bernie was as much to blame for what happened to her as he was. In fact, I bet she was behind it all.’
‘So what d’you want me to do?’ asked Pete, puzzled.
‘Warn him he should get out of Liverpool before it’s too late.’
‘Surely you could have done that?’ asked Peggy.
Monica rolled her eyes. ‘Are you mad? Gran would kill me if it got out I’d thought of helping him. Pete’s got to do it. He has a car so he can drive into the garage and speak to him there. But watch out for the dog.’
‘Tommy’s got a dog?’ exclaimed Peggy.
Monica nodded.
Pete was staring at her, as if he could not take his eyes off her. ‘After all you said the day of the wedding, I feel I have to ask you: do you actually like Tommy?’
She flushed. ‘I don’t hate him. The one I can’t stand is my Uncle Dermot. He’s a creep. And he’d love it if my uncles could get their hands on Tommy, beat him up and see him behind bars. I know Tommy’s broken the law and he’s a lying so-and-so, but he didn’t physically hurt that jeweller, did he?’
Pete was silent.
‘None of us are perfect,’ said Peggy, placing the teapot on a cork mat on the table and staring at Pete.
‘All right!’ said Pete. ‘I know I’m no angel, and it could have been me in a juvenile court a few years ago if it hadn’t been our Dougie who found me when I fell off that windowsill. It could be that he’ll need reminding of that if he goes looking for Tommy.’
Monica stared at him from beneath drooping eyelids. ‘So what are you going to do?’
‘Tell me where Tommy is. How did you manage to trace him?’
She told them how she had seen Tommy enter Lenny’s coffee bar and had followed him when he left. She made no mention of how sick and worried he had looked at the time.
Pete said, ‘OK! I’ll see what I can do.’
Relieved, Monica said, ‘I’d best be going. Mam will be wondering where I am.’
‘I’ll give you a lift to the corner of your street,’ said Pete.
Tommy was working late. He found it helped to keep his mind occupied, as he hated to think that it was definitely all over between him and Maggie. He had called in at Lenny’s coffee bar on the Monday after Marty’s wedding and asked after her. The owner’s response had been enough to convince Tommy that his son had been at the wedding for certain, and that someone had told Maggie all about Jerry’s father.
A few weeks ago, when she had mentioned on the telephone about having an invitation to his brother’s wedding, he had felt sick to the stomach. It had been a relief when the pips went. He had been at a loss what to do, unable to face telling her the truth about his past. He had told himself that it was best not to get in touch with her again.
But, after a few days, he had begun to toy with the idea of writing to her, but his injured hand had made that difficult. Still, he had made several attempts at putting pen to paper, but the truth put him in such a bad light that he had given up. Instead he had decided that it was better for both of them if he called it a day and stayed away from her.
It was only on the evening of Marty’s actual wedding day, when Tommy had gone out and got drunk, did it occur to him that Maggie might not actually have attended the wedding. Since the phone call, he had been expecting her to discover the facts about his past at his brother’s wedding, knowing there was a strong possibility of Jerry being there and Maggie recognizing him. He should have caught a train then and visited her and told her the truth – or at least some of it.
Too late now. Her brother would know all about him, so Tommy didn’t dare show his face in Formby. Jared would want to beat him into pulp for hurting his sister. Perhaps the best place would be at the cottage? Presumably she would be returning there in the near future. She was a reasonable woman; she could have calmed down and might be prepared to listen to his side of the story. Although, whichever way he looked at it, Tommy knew he had acted like a louse and he would not blame her if she told him to get lost. There was no way he could redeem himself in her eyes.
He finished the job, eased his shoulders and stretched before beginning to put his tools away. Suddenly Fang began to bark and Tommy could hear the sound of an engine. Thinking it could be a late customer, he hurried outside and opened the Judas gate and stepped on to the pavement.
Some older lads were kicking a ball around, there were girls playing hopscotch, and several smaller boys were playing marbles in the gutter. A car had parked on the other side of the road and, as he watched, the driver’s door opened and a man eased himself out with the help of a walking stick. Tommy recognized him almost immediately and his heart began to thud. He thought of going back into the yard and locking the gate, but decided he needed information, so he crossed the road.
‘How the hell did you find me?’ he asked.
Pete stared at him, unable to disguise his irritation with his wife’s youngest brother. ‘I thought that might be the first thing you’d say. I tell you now, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Peggy and Monica.’
‘Monica!’ Tommy scrubbed his beard with a hand that shook slightly. ‘What’s she got to do with this?’
‘She followed you from Lenny’s. She wanted to warn you to get out of Liverpool but did not want to do it herself. Her uncles are after your hide, now they know Bernie’s dead, and would have your guts for garters if they get their hands on you.’
Tommy’s stomach took a nosedive. ‘I’m not scared of them,’ he muttered, thrusting his thumbs in the pockets of his overalls. ‘I’m doing well here and I’ve no plans to leave. Anyway, I find her grandmother much more terrifying.’
‘I don’t blame you, because she really hates you,’ said Pete, his eyes glinting. ‘Even so, if I were you, I’d seriously consider moving on. The police are bound to get to know that you’re back sooner or later.’
Tommy paled. ‘You haven’t told your brother about me or Inspector Walker?’
‘No, I bloody haven’t,’ snapped Pete. ‘But Monica visited Ma’s and my brother turned up. He knows Monica knows where you are. He could have her in for obstructing the course of justice for not telling him your whereabouts, and she could end up in jail. Is that what you want?’
Tommy cleared his throat. ‘What d’you think I am? She’s a good skin, is Monica. What about our Marty? Does he know where to find me?’
‘He’s still on his honeymoon. Peggy and I are looking after Josie and Jerry.’
A muscle quivered in Tommy’s cheek and he mumbled, ‘That’s good of you.’
‘If you’re interested, all this happened because Jerry and Maggie recognized each other at Marty’s wedding. A pity you couldn’t have been there. He remembers her as the lady on the train. He thought she would be able to tell us where you were, only you were too bloody crafty to give her an address or a phone number, or even your real name. So much for trusting the woman you’ve been dating. You’ve hurt her, you know? And you’ve brought nothing but shame on your family.’
Tommy flinched. ‘Don’t hold back, will you!’
‘I could say a bloody sight more, but I’ve said what I came to say.’ Pete turned away.
Tommy stared after him a moment, and then slowly crossed the road towards the garage. He was about to go through the Judas gate when he heard the roar of an engine. He looked over his shoulder and saw a car turn the corner from Lark Lane. The boys playing football made no move to get out of the way, but the car did not slow down so they suddenly had to scatter. The boys playing marbles in the gutter did not move quickly enough, though, and one tripped over the kerb, right into the path of the approaching vehicle. Tommy barely hesitated; he tore across the pavement and pushed the boy out of the way. The car hit Tommy and he was flung through the air and crashed into the yard gates. The vehicle did not stop but carried on.
‘Bloody hell!’ cried one of the girls, staring after the car, while another girl helped up the little boy Tommy had saved. A couple of the lads playing football exchanged looks and ran off, while another grabbed the hand of another little lad who had grazed his knees and was crying.
Pete had managed to note the licence plate of the car; his heart was thudding in his chest as he limped over to where Tommy now lay, sprawled on the ground. A dog was licking his face. Those children who had remained gathered around Tommy, as Pete, with difficulty, managed to get down on one knee. He pushed the mongrel away.
‘Is he dead, mister?’ asked one of the girls.
Pete fumbled for Tommy’s pulse. At first he had difficulty finding it, and then it was there beneath his fingers. ‘No, he’s still alive. Can you go and dial 999, love?’
Both girls left with a skip and a jump, and then broke into a run in the direction of Lark Lane.
Pete had given no thought to the possibility of the police turning up on the scene, but a policeman came a few minutes before the ambulance arrived. He didn’t even want to make a guess at the injuries Tommy might have sustained. In fact, he would have liked nothing better than to have climbed into his car and driven off, but he knew he was going to be the main witness at this hit-and-run scenario, so he had to stay. He was not looking forward to telling Peggy, especially given her condition, about what had happened to her brother. For all Tommy was the scallywag of the family, he knew that blood was thicker than water where the McGrath family were concerned.
Several hours later, Pete was tucking into homemade minced steak pie, chips and peas. ‘It could have been worse,’ he said.
‘Tell Mam that,’ Peggy said, resting her elbows on the table. ‘A concussion and fractured pelvis and torn shoulder ligaments. She’ll have a fit. And whatever you do, don’t go mentioning the police questioning Tommy when we go and see her.’
‘Fortunately the bobby from Lark Lane Police Station didn’t recognize him. It was one of the kids who told him that his name was Timothy Murphy, and pointed out it was painted on the garage door.’
‘Well, let’s hope they don’t discover he’s actually Tommy McGrath.’ Peggy sighed. ‘I wish we knew what your Dougie was up to.’
‘You don’t think I’m going to tell him about today, do you? And he doesn’t know where Monica lives, or what her surname is,’ said Pete. ‘If he comes here we tell him that we haven’t seen her.’
‘Are we going to be looking after the dog until he gets out of hospital?’ asked Peggy.
Pete glanced through the window into the yard, where Fang was curled up on an old bit of blanket inside a cut-down cardboard box. It had scoffed some mince and broken dog biscuits in gravy, and was now sleeping with one eye open. ‘I suppose we could have left him in the garage to guard the place, but it would have meant arranging someone to feed it every day, and who do we trust? The only other option was that I visit the place every day, and I don’t fancy that. Anyway, Marty will be home tomorrow, he can make the decisions.’
‘The kids are going to miss the dog when it goes.’
Pete shrugged. ‘Tough luck.’
There was a silence.
‘You should drop in at your mother’s and let her know what’s happened,’ Peggy suggested.
‘It can wait.’
‘What about Monica?’
‘I’m leaving her to Marty. There’s no way I’m going round to the grandmother’s house.’
Peggy sighed yet again. ‘What about Maggie? Do we let her know what’s happened?’
‘She’s finished with him for being such a lying sod. Let her get on with her life.’
Peggy stood up. ‘She might hear about it from someone else. News gets around. If Irene was to tell Jimmy and he told Deirdre or Billy—’
Pete said soothingly, ‘Don’t be getting ahead of yourself, love. Think of the baby. Even if Billy told Dot and she told Jared and Emma, it doesn’t say that they’ll tell Maggie. If she was my sister, I wouldn’t mention Tommy in her company.’
‘All right, you seem to have all the answers,’ Peggy said tartly.
Pete could have told her that there was something that was worrying him and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Tommy risking his life by saving the life of a little boy, and getting injured in the process, was the kind of local-interest story that appealed to journalists. If they found out about it and they printed a photo of Tommy, who knew what might happen.
Twenty-Two
‘You should see this in the Echo, Marty?’ Irene shoved the newspaper that she had bought from a vendor in Southport Railway Station under her husband’s nose. They were on their way home from Blackpool.
‘Hang on! You’re holding it too close.’ Marty grabbed the open newspaper and placed it on his knee.
Irene poked her finger at a photograph. ‘I’m sure that’s your Tommy!’ she whispered, shooting a glance at the two women in the railway compartment to see if they were listening. ‘Who d’you think is responsible for putting his photo in the Echo?’
Marty frowned. ‘Give us a chance to read the article beneath it.’
She fell silent, watching his expression as he read. When he lifted his head, she said, ‘Well?’
‘You never know the minute when something completely unexpected is going to happen.’ Marty’s expression was one of reluctant admiration. ‘He saved some kid from being hit by a car and was injured himself. He’s in Smithdown Road Hospital.’ He folded the newspaper and handed it back to her.
‘Do they give his name?’
‘Timothy Murphy,’ he answered in a low voice.
Irene stared at her husband and mouthed, ‘What are we going to do?’
Marty made no reply. She realized that, most likely, she would not know what he’d decided until they left the train. But he did not leave the train along with her when they reached Seaforth and Litherland Station, but told her he would take a bus to the hospital when he reached Liverpool. She had no choice but to fall in with his plans.
When Irene arrived at the house, it was to find Peggy preparing a meal for their homecoming and the children playing ball in the back yard. Without delay, Irene showed her the newspaper. ‘Do you know anything about this?’ she asked.
Peggy nodded. ‘Where’s Marty?’
‘He’s gone straight to the hospital. Is Pete coming here to pick you up?’
‘Yes.’ Peggy wiped her hands on her apron. ‘But sit down and I’ll make a cuppa and tell you everything I know.’
It did not take Peggy long to unburden herself, because Irene did not interrupt her with questions. Peggy had only just finished talking when Pete arrived. He had the Echo with him and, after greeting Irene and being told where Marty had gone, he said, ‘This is what I feared. Despite the beard, I bet someone recognizes Tommy.’
Peggy stood up. ‘I’ll have to go to Mam’s.’
Pete put his arm around her. ‘I thought you’d want to do that, but maybe you should have something to eat first. Think of the baby.’
Peggy hesitated and then nodded. The children were summoned inside, following by Fang. They greeted Irene with cries of delight and hugs. She looked at the dog askance, rolling her eyes when she was told it belonged to Tommy. The children asked whether she had brought them anything, and where was Daddy? Irene told them they would have to wait until after dinner for their presents. Words that ensured they sat at the table without delay and ate their dinner without any fuss.
