Blood Brothers (35 page)

She suggested, ‘To be honest, you need to discuss it with the doctor. Shall I tell him you’d like to see him?’

‘Yes, thank you, that would be good. I’m sure his mother would want to come along, so when do you think the doctor will be available to see us?’

She consulted her ledger. ‘Tomorrow he finishes his round about midday. Shall we say twelve thirty?’

‘Yes, that’s fine. We can see Joe straight after that.’

He thanked her again, before going on his way. ‘God willing, he’ll come on in leaps and bounds, and we can pick up our lives again.’

His heart sank. ‘As for Frank, I don’t know what will happen. All I do know is, he’s shown a side to his nature that frightens me. When they find him, I’ve no doubt he’ll be put away for a very long time.’

He shook his head in despair. ‘I blame her!’ he muttered. ‘If my boys had never met Alice, none of this would ever have happened, and now because of her, my family as I knew it, is in pieces.’

As he walked on, he casually wiped away a tear, brought on by one son’s wickedness, and another son’s fight to be strong again. ‘Help them Lord,’ he whispered. ‘Please help them both.’

After all, they were his sons, and he couldn’t help but love them.

Lying helpless in his bed, Joe was desolate. ‘You don’t understand,’ he whispered. ‘You don’t know how desperately I need her. You don’t even know why I sent her away. It was Frank. He threatened to kill her, and he would do it without a moment’s hesitation. That’s why I sent her away, to protect her. Only she didn’t know that, and I couldn’t tell her.’

Life without her in it was empty and cold. And in that desolate moment, Joe didn’t care if he lived or died.

‘I love you, Alice.’ He gazed out of the window at the brooding skies beyond. ‘One day, God willing, I mean to hold you in my arms and tell you just what you mean to me and when that day comes, we’ll never be apart again.’

It was a dream, that’s all it was. But Joe was a man of vision.

He believed that if he wished hard enough, his dreams really would come true.

January 1953

New Hope

E
DWARD BAXTER HAD
stopped off at the local pub for a well-earned pint. ‘You look shattered sir, if you don’t mind me saying.’ The bartender was used to the local landowner popping in on his way from London. ‘Had a hard day have you?’ While he chatted, he began pulling the big man’s favourite pint.

‘You could say that.’ Edward Baxter was a man of considerable means; he was also a shrewd businessman who knew how to move in where there was rich picking to be had. ‘Sometimes I wonder why I keep at it,’ he confided. ‘If I retired tomorrow, I could live the life of Reilly.’

He sighed. ‘Wine, women and song…and every day in the sunshine. What d’you think?’

‘I think if it were me, I’d be off like me pants were on fire!’ The cocky young barman could never contemplate having that kind of choice.

‘Ah, but y’see it’s never that easy.’ Edward Baxter knew the pitfalls. ‘The more a man owns, the bigger his responsibilities, until they seem like a chain holding him back. In the end, you work because you forget how to stop. Then you forget how to enjoy life, and that’s the sad thing.’

He climbed on to the bar-stool. ‘It’s not all glory,’ he admitted. ‘The city isn’t what it used to be either. Once upon
a time, it was straightforward. You saw a bargain and you got in there first. You were the man with the money, and the know-how to pick and choose, but it’s very different nowadays. There are too many quick-witted fly-boys half my age who take risks I would never dare take, and you know what? However green behind the ears they are, they always seem to come up smelling of roses!’

The barman knew all about the young up and coming breed of risk-takers. ‘It’s the same in any walk of life,’ he said philosophically. ‘Take me for instance! It wasn’t that long ago when I ran my own pub. I didn’t own it, mind. But I worked my fingers to the bone and took it from a back-street pop-in kind of pub, to one of the best meeting place in North Shields.’

‘Don’t tell me!’ The older man saw what was coming, ‘The owner sold it from under your nose, and some fly-by-night snatched it for a song, when you weren’t looking?’

‘Exactly right! I never even knew it was up for sale, until the sign went up outside. I didn’t even have a chance to arrange a loan or anything, before this brash little Jack the Lad sauntered in and started measuring up for the changes he intended making.’

‘And then what?’

‘Then I was looking for a job, and here I am. As for the pub I worked and sweated to build up, it’s now one o’ them new-fangled, fancy drinking places; more like a whore-house if you ask me. The word is, it’s making more money than three pubs put together!’

He gave a wry little smile. ‘Still! I’ve got regular work, and for now that’s all I can hope for.’ He gave a little tut, ‘I don’t expect you understand what I’m saying…you being a man of means an’ all.’

‘Oh, but I
do
understand!’ Edward Baxter had known a few hairy moments in his life. ‘Don’t imagine I haven’t had my bad patches,’ he said. ‘Oh yes! I haven’t always been wealthy,
and I’ll tell you now, it was never money handed down, oh no! Yes, I made mistakes and I paid for them. But in the end, it was focus and determination that got me where I am today.

‘Nothing is for nothing, and that’s the way of it, my boy!’ With that he took a huge gulp of his drink and set off on a coughing spasm.

The barman got him a glass of water. ‘You’d best enjoy life while you’ve got the chance,’ he merrily joked. ‘Sounds to me you could be headed for the knacker’s yard!’

‘Huh! Cheeky young bugger!’

Quickly recovering, the older man placed a handsome tip on the bar. ‘Stick to serving beer and not advice,’ he joked back. ‘And keep your eyes peeled! Your next opportunity could be out there, passing you by even as we speak. Go grab it, young man, and don’t let the dust settle.’

Having enjoyed his pint, he went on his way.

He had a lot on his mind; foremost being the imminent eviction of Tom Arnold and his family.

Turning Tom off the land is not an easy thing to do, he murmured to himself as he drove away. But I had no choice. The decision is made. The papers are issued, and that’s an end to it. If you want to stay ahead of the losers, you make decisions with your head not your heart, he mused. That’s how Edward Baxter got to where he is today.

He took a deep breath. ‘Tom Arnold had enough notice and chose to do nothing. So now the mechanics are in place, and rightly so!’

He had been home for over an hour and was beavering away in his office when the front door bell rang out its melody through the house. ‘Who the devil’s that?’ Irritated, he raised his voice, ‘Martha!’ When there came no response from his
housekeeper, he called again, this time in full volume. ‘Martha get the door, will you!’

There came the sound of pattering feet running down the wood-blocked floor, then the closing of the front door. Then Martha tapped on his office door. ‘You have a visitor, Mr Baxter, sir.’

Throwing down his pencil, he grunted, ‘Who is it?’

The little woman looked flummoxed. ‘Er…it’s a gentleman…sir?’

‘Martha!
What is the gentleman’s name?
’

She bit her lip and looked decidedly nervous. ‘I’ll go and ask.’

‘Martha!’ He took in a deep breath that appeared to expand his chest to twice its size.

‘Yes, Mr Baxter…sir?’

‘A gentleman you say?’

‘Yes…sir.’

‘All right, Martha,’ he said more patiently, realising he might have frightened poor little Martha.

Martha had arrived here some twenty years ago. A pretty young woman left on her own, it was only meant to be a short appointment, but somehow she’d stayed, time passed and here she still was.

His late wife had taken her on, and over the years Martha had been a jewel, worth every penny of her keep.

Suddenly Edward felt sad at the passing of the years, and the cruel manner in which it ravaged you when you weren’t aware of it.

He thought of himself, and there were so many regrets. One day you were a young man, and then before you knew it, you looked in the mirror and there was this old person looking back at you, complete with wrinkles and silver hair.

Mentally shaking off his mood, he got out of the chair and
made his way across the office towards her. ‘You go about your business, Martha,’ he said kindly. ‘I’ll see to this visitor.’

She gave a nervous little bow. ‘Yes, Mr Baxter…sir.’

She hurried away, her shoes creating a rhythm on the floorboards. Edward thought a moment, then he was striding down the hallway with all the flourish and authority he could summon.

Waiting in the hallway, Joshua heard him coming, and he too, stood firm and authoritative, ready to meet this lion of a businessman head on.

It took Edward Baxter a moment to recognise him.

In the depth of a certain winter, he and Joshua Jacobs had shared the same compartment on a train to London.

They had struck up a casual conversation, though it had never evolved beyond that, because once in London, they had gone their separate ways and their paths had never again crossed – until now.

‘Good grief!’ He came forward with his hand extended in greeting. ‘Joshua Jacobs! We meet again, only this time in more comfortable surroundings than a train compartment on our way to the London offices, eh?’

‘When needs must.’ Joshua recalled the incident well. ‘If we hadn’t had one of the worst snowfalls in many a year, we would never have left the cars at home, and we may never have met at all.’

Edward had enjoyed his company on that particular occasion, and he hoped the same would apply now. ‘So! To what do I owe this pleasure?’

Having recently learned that Joshua was the grandfather of Alice, the young woman who was tortured and left to die by her husband, Edward was slightly embarrassed, and somewhat dubious as to how he should receive him.

‘Forgive me for calling on you like this, without prior notice,’ Joshua apologised. ‘Only, I need to talk with you about a certain business matter, if you wouldn’t mind?’

Intrigued, Edward gestured towards the drawing room. ‘Of course! Come through.’

With Edward leading the way, Joshua followed, his gaze resting on the dark-oak panelled walls and the high, arched ceilings. This was a fine house he thought.

Having settled Joshua in the drawing room, Edward excused himself and went away to the kitchen, in search of Martha.

He found her day dreaming, as she rested on her elbow and watched the dog run round and round in the garden, trying to catch his tail. ‘Martha!’

Startled, she swung round. ‘Yes, sir?’

‘I’ve settled our visitor in the drawing room. We would very much like some refreshment…say a pot of tea. Oh! And some of your little ginger cakes?’

Without waiting for an answer, Edward hurried back to his guest. ‘Tea and cake will be with us shortly,’ he informed Joshua who was standing by the French doors, admiring the view. ‘Please, sit down and tell me what business brings you here?’ Edward said warmly.

For a moment, Joshua appeared not to have heard. Instead, he turned and smiled at Edward Baxter. ‘This is a magnificent place you have here.’

Edward explained, ‘My father designed and built it. As a young man he worked the land this house stands on, and he tilled the fields as far as the eye could see. It was his dream to one day own the land, and build his own home.’

Proudly smiling, he walked across the room and stood beside Joshua. ‘He worked like a dog from morning to night. When his farm work was done, he would go down to the village and earn money by mending leaky roofs…unblocking drains, and anything else that needed doing. He would squirrel every penny away, until one day…many years later…he was able to buy many acres of the land and build this house.’
His voice caught slightly and Joshua could tell that Edward clearly still missed his father and talking of him was too emotional.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Joshua apologised. ‘I didn’t mean to jog painful memories.’ He had always thought Edward Baxter was a man of some stern authority, yet here he saw someone who was damaged and still lost in the past.

‘No, no!’ Edward assured him. ‘It was nothing you said.’

Just then, Martha arrived with the tray, which she placed on the low table between the deep leather chairs.

‘Thank you, Martha.’ Edward nodded and dismissed her with a smile.

Suddenly, Edward decided, ‘I think we deserve something a bit stronger than tea, don’t you?’

‘Of course, yes…thank you!’ Joshua was also partial to a drop of the good stuff.

‘Whisky?’

‘Please.’

So the whisky was poured and the first dram went down very well. ‘So, what brings you here?’

‘I need to see you about a matter that concerns me…’

Edward took another, longer swig. ‘I see! And what “matter” would that be?’

‘A delicate matter, but I’m hoping we might reach agreement on it,’ Joshua answered.

‘Delicate, eh.’ Casting his gaze to the floor, Edward absentmindedly swirled the glass between the palms of his hands, while he cast his mind back to a certain regrettable time many years ago. ‘You know, there was a time when all of this might have been lost forever…’ he made a wide arc with his arms, ‘…the house, the land. Everything my father worked so hard to build…all put at risk, because of me!’ He appeared to lose himself in memories.

Joshua was embarrassed. Edward had clearly taken a little
too much whisky with his tea. ‘Are you sure you want to discuss something so personal?’ he asked, somewhat bemused.

Edward went on, ‘Y’see, as a young man, I had a weakness for gambling. I was brash and over confident. I thought there was no one in the whole wide world who could bring me down. I simply couldn’t lose. It was win, win, win, all the way. Until the tide turned, and I found myself up to my neck in debt. I was broke…with no place to turn. My credit was nil, and my reputation was in tatters.’

He paused. ‘In the end I had to go cap in hand to my father. To hide the shame that could be brought down on us, he took out another loan on the house and cleared all my considerable debts. Some weeks later he suffered a severe heart attack. Within a month he was dead.’

He paused, took another swig of the whisky, and explained quietly, ‘I knew I had to take care of my mother so, I rolled up my sleeves, gave up my bad ways, and took on Father’s many responsibilities. I worked day and night until I had secured this place and won back my mother’s respect.’

Taking a gulp of the whisky, he found solace in opening his heart and mind to someone who might understand. ‘In all my life, before or since, I have never worked so hard. It made me realise how much of his life and leisure my father had given up for his dream, this land, this beautiful house.’

Joshua felt for him. ‘I’m truly sorry,’ he told him. ‘But at least in the end you helped to save this place. I’m sure your father would have been proud of you.’

Edward gave a wry little smile. ‘I don’t know about that. Father was a man of principle. Forgiveness was not one of his traits, and even if I had died trying to make amends, I don’t believe he would have ever have forgiven me.’

When Edward lapsed into deep thought, Joshua tentatively raised the reason for his calling. ‘Much as I have enjoyed passing the time of day with you, there was another, rather
pressing issue I need to discuss with you. Though if you would rather I came back tomorrow, then of course I will.’

Suddenly, Edward was all attention. ‘No, dear me, no! I do apologise. So, what is this pressing matter you need to discuss? And what has it to do with me, might I ask?’

Unsure of how Edward might react, Joshua cleared his throat and explained. ‘I’m hoping to persuade you to halt the eviction of Tom Arnold from the cottage.’

While Edward Baxter digested this shocking announcement, the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock pierced the silence that now filled the room.

Edward was fully aware of the circumstances which linked the Arnold family with the Jacobs. All the same, Joshua’s outright request had totally stunned him. ‘I’m sorry,’ he replied stiffly. ‘I can’t do that.’ His father had left him a duty, and he was no longer a man to shift his duties.