Perseverance Street (22 page)

Charlie froze for a second, with his hand on the door handle. ‘Well … it helped move the war along,’ he said, before getting out.

They entered a reception area
occupied by a pretty, but bored-looking ATS corporal who looked up with interest at these strangers who weren’t British soldiers or German prisoners. Charlie gave her a smile which she returned with interest, provoking in Lily a spasm of jealousy.

‘I wonder if you could point me in the direction of Jimmy Dunkersley. He was a private when I was here last.’

The ATS girl’s smile remained as she held Charlie in her gaze. ‘Charlie bloomin’ Cleghorn, as I live and breathe. Word was that you’d be out of your depth when you qualified, but here you are.’

Charlie stared at her for a few seconds. ‘Ah, you’ve changed your hair … and you’re looking a lot slimmer … Not that you were ever er, not slim.’ He was struggling to remember her name, although he’d once taken her to the cinema in Malton.

‘I’m also a corporal now.’ She flung her arms out. ‘Mistress of all I survey.’ Charlie did a quick survey of the office and saw two typist’s desks, both unoccupied.

‘What, all of this? You must be drunk with power.’

‘One’s gone to the bog, the other’s off sick – probably a hangover but I’ve put it down as a migraine because I’m an understanding boss. Oh, and my name’s Brenda – just in case you forgot.’

‘Of course I knew it was Brenda,’ lied Charlie. ‘It was your surname I was struggling with.’

Brenda gave a giggle. ‘I don’t remember you ever calling me by my surname. It’s Witherspoon – Corporal Witherspoon B – senior clerk/typist.’

Lily was beginning to take
a dislike to this Brenda Witherspoon woman who had so far ignored her existence.

‘Is it possible for you to tell Jimmy that Charlie’s here to see him?’ she said curtly.

Brenda turned her attention to Lily. ‘Of course I can, madam. I’ll get him myself if you’ll give me a minute.’

She got to her feet and went through one of the three doors leading out of reception.

‘Did you have a fling with her?’ Lily wasn’t sure why she’d asked.

‘Took her out once as I recall.’

‘Did Beryl know?’

Charlie turned to her and smiled. ‘What’s it to you?’

Lily didn’t answer. It was nothing to do with her. Within a few seconds the door opened and a young man came bursting through. He had a pronounced limp as he approached Charlie and shook his hand vigorously. He was wearing just uniform trousers and a khaki shirt and tie. No rank insignia.

‘Never thought you’d make it back from that mad mob you were in, Charlie boy. What was it like?’

‘Not sure I’m allowed to tell you.’

‘What rank did you end up with? I got three stripes up … when I wear ’em.’

‘Yeah, me too, but it was only to give me some sort of authority over the local civvies we were working with. Still, I got sergeant’s pay.’

‘Wish I’d been there with you. I hear you
got a decent gong – MM wasn’t it?’

‘Hey, where d’you hear that? We were supposed to be a hush-hush outfit.’

‘I’m in the Royal Army Pay Corps. We get to know stuff.’

The army small talk went on for a while with Lily becoming increasingly impatient. She sat down on a chair on the opposite side of Brenda’s desk and took out her cigarettes. Out of politeness rather than friendship she offered Brenda one.

‘No thanks. I find it tends to make your breath smell.’

Lily’s dislike of her mounted at this veiled insult. ‘Depends how often you clean your teeth,’ she commented, lighting up.

Brenda smiled, showing off an array of gleaming white teeth. ‘After every meal,’ she said. ‘And
always
before a date.’

Lily gave her a display of equally white teeth and found herself countering Brenda’s barbed comment. ‘I wouldn’t know too much about courting – my husband was killed in France just a few weeks before the war ended.’

Brenda looked up at Charlie, then back at Lily, trying to work out the relationship. Lily enlightened her.

‘Just acquaintances. I have a problem he’s helping me with.’

‘Oh, right. I’m sorry about your husband.’

She sounded genuine and Lily relaxed a bit. She gave Charlie a dig with her elbow. ‘Charlie, why don’t you introduce me to Jimmy?’

‘Oh, sorry, Lily,’ said Charlie. ‘I’ve forgotten my manners. Jimmy, this is Lily. Lily, Jimmy Dunkersley – who’s very clumsy when he jumps out of aeroplanes.’

Lily got to her feet and shook
Jimmy’s hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Jimmy. We’re looking for a Sergeant Bernard Randle. Is he still on this camp?’

‘What? Old Randy Randle?’ said Brenda. ‘Yeah, he still hangs around here, like a bad smell.’

‘So, you don’t like him either, then?’ said Lily, now warming to Brenda.

‘What’s to like? He’s a two-faced old sod. I don’t know how his wife puts up with him.’

‘You mean Edith?’

‘Yeah.’

Brenda gave a casual nod, out of all proportion to the boost it had just given to Lily’s hopes of getting her son back. The name Edith sealed it. This man was most definitely the one she was looking for; the one who had taken her son,
and he was here, on this camp
.

‘Mind you,’ said Brenda, ‘Edith’s got a right mouth on her. I think they deserve each other, those two. Saves making two other people miserable.’

‘He’s a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde,’ Jimmy explained. ‘What do you want him for?’

‘Is there somewhere where we can talk?’ Charlie said, ‘preferably somewhere where Randle isn’t. I just want to know what you know about him.’

‘We have a canteen,’ Jimmy said. ‘We can talk there. It’ll be OK. Randle never goes in.’

‘He never goes anywhere where he has to spend money,’ commented Brenda.

Charlie turned to
Lily. ‘You won’t have tasted army canteen tea, will you?’

‘Not that I remember.’

‘It’s like NAAFI tea only not quite as tasty.’

‘You’ll need an asbestos stomach,’ said Brenda. ‘Hey, I do hope this means trouble for Old Randy,’ she called out as they left. Lily paused on her way out and said, ‘I hope so, too.’

Brenda flashed her teeth again; so did Lily, this time without malice.

No one brought up the subject of Sergeant
Randle until they’d finished drinking their tea. This was because an adjacent table was occupied by men with stripes on their sleeves who might well have taken an interest in a conversation about one of their colleagues.

‘Right,’ said Jimmy, in a low voice, when the men had left. ‘What’s Randle been up to?’

Lily and Charlie looked at each other, wondering who should answer. Lily spoke first.

‘He’s got my son,’ she said. ‘He pretended to be a man called Bernard Oldroyd who lived in Grassington and him and his wife took my four-year-old son. I thought they were taking him for a couple of days in the country. My husband had just been killed, you see, and I wasn’t thinking straight.’

‘Right,’ said Jimmy, trying to take in the enormity of what she’d just told him. Charlie went on to explain the problem in more detail. Jimmy’s face grew more and more sombre.

‘Jesus, Lily. It’s a wonder you’re still sane!’

‘I’m not sure I am sane, Jimmy. What I need to know is have you seen Randle with my son? Has anyone seen him with a four-year-old boy?’

Jimmy shook his
head. ‘Randle’s an unpleasant character who can put on a good-guy act when it suits him, but I haven’t seen him with a kiddie.’ He looked at Lily. ‘He fiddles everything else and gets away with it, with him being a throwback from the first war, but I’ve never heard anything about him liking kiddies.’

‘So,’ said Charlie, ‘Did you get on OK with him?’

Jimmy gave a wry smile, ‘For most of my time here he outranked me and gave me a hard time just for the fun of it. He used to accuse me of faking my limp just to get out of active service. When I got my third stripe he tried it on again, only this time I gave him a real good hiding. One he won’t forget.’

‘Did you get into any bother?’ said Charlie.

‘No. He was drunk. I claimed I’d struck him in self-defence and they believed me.’

‘No witnesses, then?’

‘Oh yes, plenty of witnesses – mostly my mates and none of them came forward. No action was taken. Just two men of equal rank letting off steam.’

Lily took out her photograph and showed it to Jimmy. ‘Just so there’s no mistake, is this him?’

Jimmy only needed a glance to confirm that it was Randle. ‘And he abducted your son? Bloody hell! Why on earth would he do that?’

‘I’ve got no idea, Jimmy,’ Lily said, then she turned to Charlie. ‘But it’s got me frightened has this, Charlie.’

‘Do you think we should bring the police in at this stage?’ Charlie asked her.

‘Probably,’ said Lily, ‘but I’d prefer to confront him face to face myself, with you at the side
of me, and see what he has to say for himself. I want to know where Michael is, and I want to know now.’

‘Well, he’ll probably be at home,’ said Jimmy. ‘He hasn’t been around all day so I suspect he’ll be on duty tonight.’ He looked at his watch, ‘It’s half past four. I’m off at half five, if he’s not back on camp by six I’ll take you round to his house.’

‘I’d like to go round right now,’ said Lily.

Jimmy looked at Charlie, who shrugged.

‘OK.’ Jimmy pointed to four blocks of terraced brick houses standing just outside the compound. ‘Block on the right, red door. I think it’s number six.’

She looked at Charlie and held out her hands as if to say,
Well, what are we waiting for?

Lily recognised the car
instantly. Small, square, black. Too small for a big man like Randle. She looked at the red door, behind which was the man who had stolen her son from her. The venom within her began to build; as did the fear of what she might discover when she confronted Randle. What had he done with Michael? Her heart was pounding as she and Charlie walked up the concrete footpath leading directly to the door. He sensed her emotions and put his arm round her shoulders. He knocked on the door, firmly. Randle opened it. Lily stepped in front of Charlie. She wanted to be the first one he saw, to see the expression on his face.

His face was expressionless. For twenty seconds they faced each other in silence, then Randle spoke.

‘It’s er, it’s Lily, isn’t it? What are you doing here, Lily?’

‘I think you know very well what I’m doing here – Mr Oldroyd whose real name is Randle. Where’s Michael? Where’s my son?’

Randle looked beyond Lily at Charlie. ‘Oldroyd? What is this? Who are you?’

‘I’m a friend who’s helping her find the son you took from her,’ said Charlie, marginally surprised at the man’s coolness.

‘Ah, you’re still at it are you? Accusing us of
taking your son. I thought you might have seen sense by now. Why would you think I’ve got him? What would I do with him? This is just plain ridiculous!’

Lily’s voice became shrill with frustration. ‘Because you came to my house and took him away to Grassington where you said you lived.’

‘We’ve never lived in Grassington, you ridiculous woman. We met you in Grassington but we never lived there. Whatever gave you that idea?’

A woman came to the door. ‘Lily,’ she said. ‘What’s this about?’

Lily stood her ground. She was on the verge of hysteria. ‘Is Michael in there? If he is, I want him back, NOW!’

‘Now Lily,’ said Edith. ‘Why would we have Michael?’

‘Because you took him from me, that’s why?’ Lily was in tears now. She suddenly pushed past the Randles and charged into the house where she ran from room to room shouting her son’s name. She flung open cupboard doors, wardrobe doors, the back door which led out on to a tiny garden with a small shed at the end of it. She ran to the shed and tried the door, which was locked. She started kicking at it, screaming Michael’s name.

‘Oh, for God’s sake get the key to the shed before she wrecks it!’ said Edith sharply.

Randle took a key off a hook and ran down the garden where he opened the shed door. It was full of garden tools. No Michael. Lily sank to the ground, sobbing.

‘Satisfied?’ said Edith. ‘I know you’ve had problems but it’s no excuse for making such an accusation. If you carry on like this we’ll sue you for slander. Strikes me you need some sort of treatment.’ To Charlie, she said. ‘Is she having any treatment?’

‘Oh, she’s had plenty of that, if
you’re talking about ill-treatment.’ He knelt beside Lily to console her. Then he looked from Randle to his wife and back. ‘How do you know Lily?’ he asked, helping Lily to her feet.

Randle’s words tumbled out. ‘We met her and Michael in a café in Grassington.’ He looked at his wife for confirmation. ‘Is that not so, Edith?’

Edith nodded. Randle continued: ‘She was taking a photo of her boy and I offered to take one of the two of them. I took Edith over to Grassington so she could get a house ready for a house contents auction. We got friendly with Lily and Michael and we all went over to the house together so that young Michael could play in the back garden. He had a lovely time, feeding horses in the back field and playing in the stream.’

‘Really? You befriended them, did you? How long after you met Lily and Michael did you decide to take them off on this little jaunt?’

‘I don’t know – an hour, maybe.’

‘Why would your wife go right over to Grassington to get a house ready? It must be forty miles away.’

Edith answered. ‘I used to live near Grassington. I worked as housekeeper for the lady who lived there. The estate agents trusted me with all the contents, some of which were quite valuable.’

‘You just said you never lived in
Grassington,’ said Charlie.

‘What I meant was
I
never lived in Grassington,’ blustered Randle.

‘When did you last see Lily?’

‘Just after we heard about the tragic death of her husband,’ Randle said. ‘We went over to her house in Leeds to offer our condolences. I wish we hadn’t bloody well bothered now!’

‘Have you seen her since?’

‘No.’

‘So, when did she first accuse you of taking her son?’

‘What?’ said Randle, confused.

‘A few minutes ago you said she’d previously accused you of taking her son. How could she do that if this is the first time you’ve seen her since you went to her house to offer your condolences?’