‘I know – and there was something else.’ The colour suddenly drained from Lizzie’s face.

  ‘What?’ Steve almost shouted the word and Lizzie jumped.

  ‘Those loutish lads have turned up again,’ Lizzie said. ‘Do you remember how they always seemed to be hanging around here?’

  ‘How could I forget?’ Steve said. ‘They’re not the kind of men you’d want to run into on a dark night. And let’s face it, it’s because of them that I started coming to meet you every night. I blame myself for not insisting I came these last few weeks. I shouldn’t have left you on your own.’

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ Lizzie said. ‘I wanted to believe they’d really gone but since they’ve started popping up again I have to wonder if they ever really went away. I’ve often felt as though someone was watching me, and now I know I’m not imagining things because I know Stan Ogden’s seen them too.’ Steve received this news in silence but she could see his whole body tensing.

  ‘And have they …?’ Steve began but Lizzie cut him off.

  ‘No, no!’ she said. ‘I promise you they’ve kept their distance, otherwise I’d have told you immediately.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘They’ve been kept pretty busy. Whenever I’ve seen them, they’ve been stacking cartons and dragging heavy-looking canvas bags about, either piling them up in one of the back rooms or carting them into the yard for Stan to load onto the truck.’

  ‘Any idea what’s in these bags or boxes?’ Steve asked.

  ‘Stan told Hilda he reckoned they were probably stolen goods of all sorts.’

  ‘Really!’

  She nodded. ‘He said it either looked like new stuff that had fallen off the back of a lorry, or things that had been nicked, plus odd bits of good older furniture, the type of stuff that could have been looted from bombsites or from houses left empty when their owners left to go and stay in the country because of the city being bombed. Hilda’s been terrified ever since she found out and she doesn’t want him to take on any more work, but it’s too tempting, the money’s too good to turn down.’

  ‘I bet it is.’ Steve let out his breath in a low whistle.

  ‘Stan isn’t bothered – he’ll do anything so long as he can get his hands on some cash at the end of the day,’ Lizzie said. ‘It’s Hilda I’m worried about. The other day she and I found one of these bags in the kitchen and we just had to take a peak, didn’t we?’

  ‘So what did you find?’ Steve wanted to know.

  ‘Several pairs of silver candlesticks and some silver platters, but then we had to shut the bag up again fast because we heard Bob coming.’

  ‘Did he catch you looking?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I think we managed to get it closed before he saw us. Anyway, he grabbed hold of it and we made out like we’d never seen it before. But it made a clanging noise as soon as he picked it up.’

  ‘How did he explain that away?’ Steve said.

  ‘He laughed and said he was selling a few bits and pieces for a friend,’ Lizzie said. ‘Hilda wanted to go to the police, but as soon as I calmed her down she realized she didn’t want to shop her own husband.’

  ‘And she’s working for the same man,’ Steve pointed out, ‘so how was she going to square that with her conscience?’

  ‘Exactly. And the same applies to me,’ Lizzie said.

  Steve frowned. ‘I’m getting worried. You’re beginning to skate on thin ice, Lizzie. If he suspects you’re checking up on him, this man could be dangerous. Don’t forget I’ve come across Mr Bennett and his dodgy dealings before, even if I did know him by a different name then. But I’m concerned that he’s a very slippery customer and it’s always been impossible to prove anything against him.’

  Lizzie drew in a breath sharply and, without warning, burst into tears.

  ‘It’s very hard to rat on someone, you must know that,’ she said, a sob catching in her throat. ‘Particularly when that someone is your boss. I feel so disloyal even mentioning it to you, because, after all, Bob does pay my wages.’

  Steve pulled a white cotton handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her across the counter. ‘I’m sorry, Lizzie, and believe me, I do understand, but you mustn’t think of it as ratting. This could be serious and you don’t have to feel guilty.’

  Lizzie shook her head. ‘Honestly, I would have left here before now if I didn’t need this job so badly, but jobs for women are not that easy to come by now that all the men are starting to come back.’ She sniffed and wiped her nose. ‘And someone’s got to look after my ma and my – my brothers.’ She gave a long hard blow into the handkerchief. ‘Though I don’t know how much longer the Pride will be able to stay open anyway.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ Steve was surprised.

  ‘I am,’ Lizzie said, the tears running down her cheeks again. ‘I don’t think it’s living up to Bob’s expectations.’

  ‘Really?’ Steve said.

  ‘All that razzmatazz and the promises he made at the beginning? They seem to have come to nothing. And now he’s away from the pub more than he’s here, so I do worry about the future.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Steve said. ‘You mean the pub’s future?’

  ‘And mine. I don’t know how much longer he’ll be able to pay our wages.’

  ‘That bad? How come you’ve never mentioned it before?’

  Lizzie shrugged.

  ‘Well, I don’t know what the answer is at the moment. But I do think that you must be extra vigilant and not take any unnecessary risks.’

  Lizzie nodded. ‘The cabaret acts they’ve been getting in on a Saturday night are second-rate and takings must be down because customer numbers have certainly been falling off. Why don’t you come and see for yourself?’

  ‘That sounds like a good idea. Maybe I could even engineer a chat with Bob. In the meantime I must report back about VJ day because that’s what Annie Walker really wanted to know.’

  Lizzie put her hand to her mouth in horror. ‘Does that mean you’ll have to tell Mrs Walker everything I’ve told you?’ she asked.

  ‘No, of course not,’ Steve reassured her quickly. ‘I’ll only tell her what I think she needs to know.’

  Chapter 11

  Autumn 1945

  By the time Jack Walker finally received his discharge papers and Annie was officially informed that he was on his way home, the euphoria of VE day was a distant memory. All thoughts of the street parties and celebrations that Annie had so enthusiastically recounted in her letters were now confined to the past along with the patriotic bunting. A Union Jack, its edges well frayed, feebly fluttering from an upstairs window, acted as a solitary reminder. Even the memories of the VJ day festivities following Japan’s surrender in August, were beginning to dim as Jack trudged home, his mind wading through a sea of images, sounds and smells that didn’t seem to belong in this northern street. How life had changed since the war started. During the last few years he had been exposed to so many new experiences that he no longer knew what was real and what was not. Like now, when he felt decidedly alien in civilian clothes and a part of him wished he could be back in his army uniform. He felt uncomfortable and distinctly out of place in the scratchy material of the one-size-fits-all demob suit he’d picked up with his discharge papers.

  The limited daylight from the overcast sky barely illuminated the mud-smeared cobbles of Weatherfield as he plodded steadily homeward, and Jack could feel the chill as the light drizzle began to seep through the cheap material of his coat. He stopped to take his bearings when he drew close to the viaduct, looking to see if the war had inflicted any noticeable damage on the landscape since the last time he’d been home. To his relief, all he could see as he spun in a complete circle were the familiar sights he’d grown accustomed to during the two years he had lived there before the war. He had written to Annie as soon as he knew he was coming home and he fixed his mind on the image of her face as he continued through the grey streets, ignoring the weight of the kitbag slung over his shoulder, and the inflamed soreness of his neck where the unyielding shirt collar had rubbed against the weathered skin.

  It was dinnertime when he arrived at the Rovers Return, and he stood for a moment, unsure whether to go in through the front doors of the public house or enter directly into their private quarters at the back. But as he reached the main entrance he bumped into someone he recognized as an old regular. It was Albert Tatlock, heading towards the bar for an early drink.

  At first Albert peered at him, then he rocked back on his heels. ‘Well, well, well! If it isn’t Jack Walker? By heck, but you’ve lost weight, I hardly recognized you.’

  ‘Well, I haven’t exactly been at a holiday camp, you know!’ Jack couldn’t help snapping.

  Albert ignored him and stared up at Jack’s glasses that kept slipping down his nose. ‘It’s good to see you, anyhow. Your missus’s been talking about your homecoming for so long I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.’

  Jack gave a sardonic laugh. ‘No chance of that,’ he said.

  ‘By gum, but it’s great that you’re safely home at last.’ Albert patted him on the back then shook him by the hand, ‘though Mrs Walker never let on you was actually arriving today.’

  Jack frowned. ‘Well, I did tell her,’ he said, but before he could worry further Albert pushed him forwards as he held open the double doors.

  The warmth and people-smell combined with the fug of cigarette and pipe smoke assailed his nose almost as soon as he crossed the threshold, but the first thing he saw was the comforting sight of Annie pulling a pint and he stood for a moment, wanting to hold the snapshot in his mind’s eye. She didn’t look up immediately, but when she did, she almost dropped the glass. Her cheeks flushed and she suddenly looked flustered. But then she quickly signalled to the young man beside her to take over. She made no further public show of emotion as she grasped Jack’s arm and, with a tight-lipped smile, ushered him through the door that led to their private rooms. Then she turned to face him, arms extended. ‘Jack! Oh, Jack!’ she said and she buried her face in his coat.

  Jack put his bag down on the tiled floor and took hold of her gently by the shoulders, a smile twitching on his lips. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘let’s be having a look at you, then. Eh, you’ve not changed a bit, lass, I’m pleased to say.’

  Annie touched her hand to her hair in a gesture he fondly remembered and he smiled as he pulled her roughly towards him. Cupping her chin in his hands he held her face close to his in a chaste kiss for several moments. Then he clung to her in a tight embrace as they stood together in the middle of the room, his eyes closed. When he finally opened them again he found he was looking over her shoulder at a young boy who was standing by the sink, helping himself to a glass of water from the single tap. Jack’s eyes widened involuntarily.

  ‘Billy?’ he cried and, letting go of Annie, stepped towards the boy, his arms wide in expectant embrace. Billy, tall for his seven years, stared at him for a moment while a brief flash of fear crossed his face and he took a step back.

  ‘Who are you?’ Billy demanded, frowning.

  ‘Don’t you know?’ Jack was taken aback.

  ‘No, stupid, or I wouldn’t have asked, would I?’ Billy said. ‘So keep your thieving mitts off me.’

  Annie gasped. ‘Billy, what language! Just you apologize to—’ But Jack interrupted. ‘Don’t you recognize me from my pictures, Billy? Didn’t your mother tell you I was coming home? Annie, tell him,’ he entreated as he made a move towards the boy, his arms still outstretched. But before Annie could open her mouth, Billy shouted, ‘No!’ and threw the contents of the glass at Jack before running out of the back door.

  Jack could only stare after him in disappointment and confusion as water soaked through his shirt. That was not the kind of greeting he had expected. Then a movement by the door alerted him to a little girl who was playing quietly with her dolls on the floor. She was undressing them and putting them into a tiny tin bath that was on the rug in front of the hearth. When she saw him, she jumped up and with her hands over her ears ran crying to her mother’s side where she buried her head in Annie’s skirt.

  ‘Don’t let him touch me! Tell him to go away,’ she whimpered to Annie imploringly. She backed away till she was almost behind Annie, then twisted her body so that she was still clinging to a handful of material while peeping out at Jack at the same time. Once or twice she half-heartedly kicked out at Jack, who stood still. He didn’t dare approach the child, let alone consider kissing or cuddling her. This was not the welcome he had dreamed of.

  To his surprise, Annie laughed and smoothed her hand over her daughter’s hair. ‘This is Daddy, darling. Remember the pictures I showed you? I told you he would be coming home soon. Well, here he is. Safe and sound, at last.’

  Joanie stuck her thumb in her mouth and turned her head away, though she continued to peek out occasionally at Jack from behind Annie’s back. Each time her face appeared, Jack raised his eyebrows and said, ‘Boo!’ in as bright and cheerful a voice as he could muster, though he was careful not to shout too loudly or to make any movement towards her while he watched Annie continue to soothe her.

  ‘Well, Jack darling, welcome home,’ Annie said with a warm smile, eventually turning back to her husband. ‘I’m glad to see you even if nobody else in this house is!’ She laughed. ‘In fact, I’ve been longing to see you.’ And with a gentle movement of her hands she stood Joanie to one side and gave Jack the kind of welcome he’d dreamed of when he’d thought of coming home.

  It was Lizzie’s day off and, at Steve’s, invitation she went to the Rovers in the evening. She was surprised to find Elsie Tanner was there, for she had been patronizing the Pride for months now, and she was enjoying a quiet drink with her neighbour when Jack Walker finally arrived home. She could probably have guessed from the sight of his ill-fitting demob suit and the oversized kitbag on his shoulder as he heaved his way into the bar, but it quickly became clear who it was. So, this was Annie Walker’s beloved husband, Lizzie thought; the name that was painted above the door. Bob had talked a lot about the homecoming of the man he considered to be a serious rival, once his imminent demobilization had become common knowledge, and not unnaturally he was concerned about what that might mean for the Pride. However, when Lizzie first set eyes on Jack she hardly marked him as a man to be feared. Certainly not in the way Annie’s sharp tongue was to be feared, though Lizzie had to admit Annie had done a good job holding the fort during the years her husband had been away.

  When Lizzie saw the way Annie’s face lit up the moment Jack walked through the door, she couldn’t stop a lump rising to her throat, and for a moment she felt quite choked. She was sad to think that her father would not be coming home to be greeted like that by Cora, and neither would she be embracing Joe … But having heard young Billy’s shriek, and Joanie’s fearful cry when they saw their father for the first time in years, it made her think of the effect demobilization had on the rest of the family and she couldn’t help wondering how the twins or even Sammy might have reacted if their da had suddenly reappeared after so many years. She forced herself to shut her mind to such thoughts, though she couldn’t prevent a few tears trickling down the side of her nose and she brushed them impatiently away, but not soon enough, for Elsie had already noticed.

  ‘Cheer up, love, there’s worse things happen at sea, as my mam used to say. And talking of the sea, I can tell you I won’t be shedding any tears over my Arnold not coming home,’ Elsie said gaily.

  Lizzie was surprised. ‘What do you mean? Have you heard from him?’ She felt immediate concern, even though she had never met the man. ‘He’s not been hurt, has he?’

  ‘Nah,’ Elsie said. ‘Last I heard he was fit and well enough to be demobbed, but I don’t think that coming back to live in Coronation Street with his wife and kids is part of his future plans.’

  ‘Oh dear, I’m really sorry about that,’ Lizzie said.

  ‘You needn’t be, I’m certainly not,’ Elsie said. ‘Good riddance to bad rubbish is all I can say. I won’t be able to get rid of him fast enough.’

  Annie was thrilled to have Jack back at home again, and at first she revelled in the way that he insisted on spoiling her. It had been a long time since anyone had brought her cups of tea in bed or insisted she put her feet up in the middle of the afternoon. While she had been in sole charge, every day had brought its problems and though Annie had always risen to the challenge, she had often felt uncomfortable.

  ‘You don’t have to worry about those sorts of things now I’m here, love,’ Jack insisted when she confessed her pet hates to him and, in the beginning, she appreciated him looking out for her wellbeing. Then she noticed he was going out of his way to relieve her of the regular duties he considered to be onerous, until soon there seemed little for her to do.

  They had always worked well together and Steve fitted beautifully into the team as Jack had promised he would. As time went on, though, Steve and Jack between them began to take on more and more duties while Annie, almost without her realizing it, gradually relinquished the additional responsibilities she had had to assume during the war years. So it was quite a shock for her one day when she suddenly became aware of just how little there was left for her to do. She knew she would have to discuss the matter with Jack and deliberated for several days on how to broach the subject without hurting his feelings.

  ‘Do you think perhaps you’re overdoing it a little?’ she finally asked him one day. She kept her voice as light as possible, though she couldn’t help feeling anxious. ‘You know, it really should have been me pampering you all this time.’ She gave a little laugh before adding in a more serious tone, ‘After all, you’re the one who’s been through the really dreadful difficult times. So I think you’re the one who most deserves to rest more.’

  Jack regarded her solemnly. ‘You’ve had more than your fair share of difficulties to deal with, while I’ve been away, Annie my love, don’t think I don’t know that,’ he said. ‘This is my way of saying thank you for stepping in so bravely at such short notice, and keeping things going so valiantly. It can’t have been easy, no matter what you said in your letters.’ He wagged his finger at her as he said this and then laughed. Annie blushed coyly, thinking of several other things she had said in their somewhat lively correspondence, and she didn’t contradict him.

 

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