A Glimpse at Happiness (41 page)
‘Come on, Mickey,’ she said, as she spotted a gap that they could dash across.
They started off but halfway there Mickey let go of her hand.
‘I’ve dropped my satchel,’ he called, as a heavy horse with his muzzle in a sack cut him off from view.
Annie turned to follow him but was blocked by a brewery cart so she continued onto the other pavement then turned to look for her brother. Crouching down so she could see under the traffic, she tried to spot his legs amongst the people making their way to work on the other side of the road, but she couldn’t.
Straightening up again, she retraced her steps but he was nowhere to be seen. Normally she would have thought he had slipped away from her to bunk off, but since Miss Josie had been helping him with his letters Mickey had been eager to go to school and had even talked about getting the form reading prize. She couldn’t understand why he wasn’t waiting for her with his retrieved satchel.
She looked around and spotted a fat, squat man who seemed to be in danger of bursting out of a brightly checked jacket.
‘You lost your brother?’ he asked in a cheery voice, the cigarette dangling from his lips wagging up and down as he spoke.
Annie nodded.
‘He went down there.’ He jerked his head backwards to the narrow alley behind him, nearly dislodging his short-crowned hat as he moved.
Annie peered around him but couldn’t see Mickey. She bit her lower lip.
Pa, Gran and Miss Josie had told her to stay on the main road and not to stray into the narrow passageway that ran through the neighbourhood, but the school bell would be rung soon and she didn’t want to have to explain to Miss Porrit why they were late.
With her heart thumping in her chest she stepped past the man lolling against the wall and into the alleyway. There were stacks of boxes on one side and a couple of doors leading in to the shops but she couldn’t see Mickey.
‘Mickey must be hiding,’ the man said.
Annie spun around to find the man right behind her. ‘How do you know—?’
One of the doors opened and another man stepped into the alley. He grinned at her and the breath left Annie’s lungs as her gaze fixed on Harry Tugman.
‘Hello, Annie,’ he said with a grin. ‘My ma wants a word with you.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ma couldn’t remember when she’d felt so jolly. Sitting on her chair in the corner, she swung her legs backwards and forwards as she watched the door.
‘Give us a brandy,’ she barked at the girl cleaning the bar.
Nine o’clock was a little early, even for her, but she was celebrating and thought an exception just this once wouldn’t hurt.
The door to the back parlour opened and two of her men struggled through with Charlie hanging between them. His head still lolled a bit but his good leg managed to find its footing with the forwards step although the other scraped along behind.
‘Put him here,’ Ma said indicating the chair beside her. ‘And you—’ she slapped the girl who’d just brought the brandy, ‘—go and fetch him his breakfast.’
The girl scarpered away.
They heaved Charlie into the chair and Ma stuffed the cushions in place to steady his balance, then went back to watching the door.
She patted her son’s arm. ‘You’ll enjoy this.’
Charlie grunted and his focusing eye followed her gaze to the door. Almost immediately, it swung open and Patrick pushed through with Harry and Ollie close on his heels.
Ma forced the smile off of her face as she studied him striding towards her. She ran her eyes over him, understanding why the O’Casey woman had turned her back on her comfortable life. Even the two sluts at the bar were giving him more than just a passing glance. He stopped just before her with a furious expression on his angular face.
‘I thought we’d agreed that you would stash the gear overnight and I’d turn up and sail off as I always do. Instead of which I have these two,’ he thumbed at the men behind him, ‘stop me in the middle of the docks, in front of everyone, and haul me back here. I thought this trip was a show of goodwill on both our parts.’
Goodwill! She’d give him goodwill, all right. Lying, cheating bog-trotting bastard that he was.
Ma smiled artlessly. ‘There’s a bit of a change of plan,’ she said, hardly able to keep her merriment from bursting out. ‘When Harry went down at dawn there seemed to be a nabs fair on by the docks. Know anything about it?’ She fixed him with the stare that had made grown men blubber like infants.
‘No,’ he replied, without moving a muscle.
‘The place was swarming with Peelers so I told Harry to wait,’ Ma said. ‘And while I waited I got to thinking. Say some one had slipped along to the police station and told a few tales they shouldn’t . . .’
‘Then we’d be in trouble wouldn’t we,’ Patrick said, his expression unchanged. ‘If you’ve just called me to tell me that then I’ll be on me way.’
He was fecking good and no mistake, Ma thought. There weren’t many who could stand there with a face like the archangel Gabriel, knowing they’d double crossed you. She reached under her chair and grabbed the articles hidden beneath her skirts and slammed them on the table.
Patrick eyes focused on them and his nonchalant expression vanished.
‘Where did you get those?’ he shouted, moving to snatch Mickey’s satchel and Annie’s blue ribbons off the sticky beer-stained surface.
He lunged at Ma but Harry caught him and he pitched forward, taking Harry with him. Another one of the men in the bar stepped in to hold him.
‘Where are my children?’ Patrick bellowed.
Ma savoured both the agonised look now spreading over his face and his impotence against the forces holding him pinioned.
‘Somewhere safe,’ she said, and let her smile grow wider. ‘For now.’
He tried to surge forward again and almost broke free. ‘You hurt one hair on their heads and Holy Mary Mother of God, I’ll kill you with my own hands, so I will.’ The studs on the sole of his boots scraped the floorboards as he fought to be free.
Ma continued to smile. ‘They’ll not get hurt as long as you keep up your end of the bargain. But if, say, the police were to get wind of our arrangement, or you decide to negotiate your own price for the cargo . . . ’ She shrugged and went on, ‘Well, there’s many a ship in port would pay fifty pounds for a boy.’ She winked. ‘Especially those Arab ones off on a long voyage. And as for that sweet Annie of yours. I could name you a dozen fine gentlemen who would snatch her off my arm for the chance to purchase her innocence.’ Horror took hold of Patrick and he tore his arm away from the henchman’s grip and punched him square in the face.
He stepped forward. For one moment she thought he would grab her and choke out her last breath but he stopped just short of her and clenched his fist. The bones cracked but he kept them tight by his side.
‘We had an agreement,’ he forced out.
Still smiling, she crossed her arms under her bosom. ‘Now, now. Nothing’s going to happen to those little sweet darlings as long as you make it back here with my money and without a regiment of nabbers on your tail. Your boat’s loaded so you’d better be off.’
He stared at her and if looks could kill she’d be facing her maker at that very moment. She watched as Patrick battled to keep his temper in check and then he jabbed his finger at her.
‘One hair.’
One of the men behind him sneered. Patrick drew back his fist and smacked it into his nose. The thug fell like a rag doll and lay motionless, blood pouring from his nose. Ma’s eyes rested on Patrick’s powerful frame as he thrust his way past Harry and his men.
Bastard lying Mick though he was, Patrick Nolan had a brain as sharp as a razor, the nerve of the devil and could handle himself better than most of her own men. If she were honest, all things taken into account he was a rare one, and worth three of her men any day of the week.
Some of her gang started after him but Ma held up her hand. She didn’t want Patrick dead in a pub fight. He had to live to rue the day he’d tried get one over on Ma Tugman.
Patrick couldn’t remember getting to the
Mermaid
, nor how he’d managed to manoeuvre it out of its berth. He supposed he did it automatically because when the furies cleared from his mind he was already midstream and heading west. He did remember growling at the Chinese shovelling coal on the jetty, but his uncharacteristic temper got his barge loaded in double quick time so, despite losing an hour, he would still be able to dodge though the tall ships just before noon.
Mermaid
, nor how he’d managed to manoeuvre it out of its berth. He supposed he did it automatically because when the furies cleared from his mind he was already midstream and heading west. He did remember growling at the Chinese shovelling coal on the jetty, but his uncharacteristic temper got his barge loaded in double quick time so, despite losing an hour, he would still be able to dodge though the tall ships just before noon.
Although the brisk, late summer wind blowing the salty smell of the sea up river cleared his head, the image of Mickey’s satchel and Annie’s bright ribbons under Ma Tugman’s dirty hand remained.
And, although he was almost insane with worry, there were two things he was thankful for: one, that he’d managed not to show that he knew anything about the police at the docks; and two, that he had managed to hold his temper against every inch of him wanting to grab hold of the dirty old trollop and squeeze the life out of her. But he knew he had to stay calm and focused - everything depended on it. As his temper cooled, he cursed Plant roundly for blundering about on the docks.
For the love of Mary, hadn’t he explained his plan clearly enough? What more could he have done to make the sergeant understand? When Ma’s men brought the goods to the
Mermaid
the superintendent was supposed to order his men to follow them back to their secret warehouses and catch them red-handed with their stolen goods. The idea was that the police act with stealth, not march up and down with pipe and drum, as seemed to have happen. Patrick had even made Plant write the details of the plan in his pocketbook to make sure he had it straight, but still he got it all arse about face.
Mermaid
the superintendent was supposed to order his men to follow them back to their secret warehouses and catch them red-handed with their stolen goods. The idea was that the police act with stealth, not march up and down with pipe and drum, as seemed to have happen. Patrick had even made Plant write the details of the plan in his pocketbook to make sure he had it straight, but still he got it all arse about face.
He would deal with Plant later - the what or why didn’t concern Patrick now. All he was intent on was getting the tobacco off his boat and getting Ma her money. If by the end of the day he had Annie and Mickey back and Josie waiting for him at home, nothing else mattered.
Well, that wasn’t strictly true. Just getting them home in one piece today wouldn’t keep them safe tomorrow unless Ma was removed permanently. He had started on this course and had to see it though to the end.
By the time he had the green tranquillity of Temple Garden on his starboard side, Patrick’s brain had begun working again and he began to formulate more plans. Although Sergeant Plant had been eager to act as a go-between, Patrick decided that tomorrow he would talk to Superintendent Jackson himself.
St Margaret’s church at Westminster was just chiming three when he guided the
Mermaid
between the busy passenger steamers crammed with shoppers heading for Fulham. Leaving Westminster Palace behind him, Patrick trimmed the
Mermaid
for the last half mile of their journey to the horse ferry by Market Street, where Ma’s accomplice would be waiting. It wouldn’t take more than a half an hour or so to offload the bales stowed under the front of the hold. With a swift passage to Vauxhall, he would be back to the Boatman before the sun met the horizon.
Mermaid
between the busy passenger steamers crammed with shoppers heading for Fulham. Leaving Westminster Palace behind him, Patrick trimmed the
Mermaid
for the last half mile of their journey to the horse ferry by Market Street, where Ma’s accomplice would be waiting. It wouldn’t take more than a half an hour or so to offload the bales stowed under the front of the hold. With a swift passage to Vauxhall, he would be back to the Boatman before the sun met the horizon.
Pulling out to the centre of the river for an instant before swinging back, Patrick steered the
Mermaid
towards the jetty and nudged it between two ferries loading coaches and passengers bound for the south side of the river and the coast roads.
Mermaid
towards the jetty and nudged it between two ferries loading coaches and passengers bound for the south side of the river and the coast roads.
Tying up, Patrick climbed up to the quayside and looked around. Iggy pulled out his pipe and laid himself down, his head resting on a coil of rope until Patrick gave the orders to cast off again. It wasn’t unusual for them to stop off on the way to the final destination. River men always earned an extra few shillings by taking small items for individuals as they passed along.
The road to the ferry was packed with people, animals and carts waiting to make it across to the other bank of the Thames. The driver of the Portsmouth Mail Coach argued loudly with a waggoner trying to jump the queue, while a small herd of cattle heading for a slaughterhouse lowed as they nosed nervously around.
Over the heads of the throng, Patrick spotted three policemen making their way down the quayside towards him. As with Wapping, the police officers at Queen Anne’s Gate kept an eye on the riverside that ran though their division.
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