Cutting the Cord Page 2

  “I’d like to see him try,” chirped in Freddy.

  Harry smiled. “Go on, get off then before all those sweets have gone and save me a seat; I don’t fancy standing all afternoon.” With a promise of saving him a seat, Freddy and Charlie set off at a pace to the club and with a heavy heart Harry set off in the direction of home to confront his wife. As Harry turned the corner into their road he saw Anne walking towards him pushing little Janie in her pushchair.

  “The club is in the other direction,” shouted Anne as she strode towards her father.

  “I know, sweetheart,” Harry responded, “but I forgot to take me shoes to work with me this morning and I look daft in my Sunday best with these old oily boots on me feet.” Harry pointed down at his work boots as he came side by side with his two daughters.

  “I see what you mean, Dad, but I can’t stop nattering to you, I’ve gotta drop our Janie off at Aunt Mary’s and get to the club myself before kick-off.” Anne took off at speed around the corner and out of sight. Harry was so glad that he’d made the decision to leave his shoes at home on purpose; it had made for a plausible excuse to be heading off home instead of the club. Turning to see that Anne hadn’t backtracked either, Harry set off once more for home.

  Quietly placing his key in the front door, Harry turned it in the lock and gently pushed open the door. The stairs were directly in front of him and he could hear drawers being banged up in his and Elsie’s room. He quickly removed his boots, tiptoed up the stairs, crossed over the small landing and stood in the bedroom doorway. Elsie’s back was to the door. She was obviously so intent on packing her belongings into two suitcases that she wasn’t aware of a presence behind her. Harry watched her as she folded her clothes and placed them neatly into the suitcases. At that moment, he felt as though the very life of him was being sucked out and placed neatly alongside the clothes in the suitcase. But Harry knew he had to be strong and show not an ounce of weakness in front of this devious, lying woman. He had every intention of making her stay with him and their children. So, he drew in a deep, long breath. As he did so, Elsie became aware of someone behind her and quickly turned, expecting to find one of her children standing there. She had never for one minute expected it to be Harry.

  Harry couldn’t help but smile at the utter shock on his wife’s face as she’d turned around. He’d guessed from the look of her that it had been one of the kids she’d been expecting to see. She hadn’t planned on it being Harry. They both stood staring at each for several moments before Elsie found her tongue.

  “I’m off on a small trip, Harry. I need a break. The kids are driving me crazy. You’re never here. Always busy down that bloody garage of yours. Well, you can take care of them for a few days. I’m having me a nice break down the coast with Joanie.” With that she turned her back on Harry and continued to pack.

  “Awful lot of clothes that, ain’t it, Elsie?”

  “Well, you never know what the weather’s going to like do you.”

  “I’m told this lovely warm weather is going to continue right through to September.”

  “Well, I don’t trust those weather forecasts, always getting it wrong they are?”

  “Bit like me then, eh, Elsie? Only I thought you was doing a runner with some bloke called Sidney Riley?”

  Elsie froze for a moment than refolded a jumper. “I know Joanie has let herself go these past few months after her Ronnie took off but she certainly don’t look like a bloke, Harry.” Harry was surprised by how much he was enjoying this. He was also surprised by how quickly and easily the lies flew out of his wife’s mouth.

  “No, Elsie, I wasn’t referring to Joanie at all. I’m talking about a Sidney Riley. Married to a woman named Sheila. Lives in Lilleshall and works as an accountant at the beet factory. Currently enjoying a few days recuperating at home after he had a run in with a very angry husband. Your very angry husband to be exact.” Harry watched as his wife’s shoulders slumped and the incessant folding of the jumper stopped. He waited for her to take it all in. For her to realise the game was up. Eventually she straightened herself up and turned to face him with pure anger on her face.

  “You think you and your bully-boy tactics are going to stop me and my Sid from being together?” Elsie screamed at her husband. “Because it won’t. Sidney will be at the bus stop across the road at three o’clock as planned and no one and I mean no one will stop us from leaving.” Elsie’s face had turned beetroot-red as she spat the words out. Harry started to laugh at her, at which point Elsie flew at him, raining her fists down on his chest. He let her get a few blows in then he slapped her hard across the face and pushed her away from him, so she fell onto the bed, landing on top of the open cases. Harry could see that had surprised her. Never before had he ever laid a finger on her. Oh! There had been many times over the years that he had wanted to land her one. To put her in her place. She’d shown him up numerous times and her lying adulterous ways had at times left him feeling like he could actually kill her. But, yet, he had always contained his anger, his hurt and his humiliation. Even when little Janie had been born, he’d lied to cover for her. He knew Janie wasn’t his, yet he had accepted the child. Christ, he loved the very bones of her and why had he sucked up all this? Because he loved Elsie more than life itself. He worshipped the very ground she walked on. He’d shown her nothing but love and given her anything her heart desired but now enough was enough. Harry had stomached a lot of things from this woman, but he wasn’t about to let this lying, dirty whore, because that was exactly what she was, abandon their children. They didn’t deserve that, and he was damn well going to make sure it didn’t happen. Harry looked at his wife. It was as if he was really seeing her for the first time and it hurt like hell. He stepped forwards, looming over her as she lay sprawled across the bed. Then, with all the venom and hatred he now felt for Elsie, he issued his warning.

  “I’m going to say this once only, so you best listen carefully. You’re going to unpack those cases and put every last thing back in its rightful place. Then you’re going to tidy yourself up and we’re going to go down the club and join our family and friends and pretend like none of this ever happened. And I want you to remember this, Elsie Arnold. You are my wife. You are mother to three of my children and one I’ve accepted as me own. And if I ever find out that you’re slagging around with anyone ever again or try to fuck off again, so help me I’ll kill you. I’ll do time for you, Elsie, remember that, next time you feel like dropping your knickers for all and sundry. Now get to it, woman.” With that Harry left the room and headed downstairs. He’d never felt so liberated in all his life.

  Elsie waited until she heard Harry go down the stairs before she allowed herself to cry. She had never in all the fifteen years they’d been married been afraid of her husband before. But now she feared him with every ounce of her body. Elsie knew that Harry meant every word he said. She also knew he was more than capable of carrying his threat out. Slowly she raised herself up off the bed and began to unpack.

  FREDDY

  Christmas 1969

  Frederick Henry Arnold stood patiently waiting in the bus shelter across the road from the Fox and Duck pub to see if his mother came out. He’d parked his Lambretta up behind the shelter, out of sight, and was trying desperately to stop the cold seeping into his bones. He lit another cigarette and cupped his hands around the end for a bit of warmth. He’d been told by a very reliable source that his mum was having an affair with a man working on the new shopping complex they were building on the outskirts of town. He’d told him this was their regular meeting place, so here he was waiting to see if it was true. He knew this Derek Collins was inside as his car was parked up in the far corner of the pubs car park. Paul Taylor had done his research well. Derek Collins was a twenty-eight-year-old electrician staying at The Hollyhocks B&B in Wellington. He drove a yellow Mini Clubman that Freddy could just about see from the bus shelter. So far Paul had been right
, not that Freddy had any reason to mistrust him in the first place. He and Paul, along with his identical twin, Peter, had been friends their entire lives. But Freddy prayed that the woman that Derek Collins was snuggling up to wasn’t his mum! If it was, all hell would break loose. As Freddy ground out his cigarette on the ground the pub door opened and out walked his mum as clear as day on the arm of this Derek Collins. Freddy watched in horror as they walked across the car park then, before helping his mum into the passenger side, Derek kissed her passionately. Freddy felt physically sick. His worst fears had been confirmed. He went round the back of the bus shelter and started up his scooter and headed off to the snooker hall in the hope of catching up with the twins to see what could be done about the situation.

  Peter and Paul Taylor were in the middle of a frame when Freddy showed up. From the look on his face they sussed that he’d been down to the Fox and Duck.

  “So, what you want to do next?” asked Paul.

  “Ram that bastard’s bollocks down his fucking throat,” snarled Freddy.

  “I ain’t cutting anyone’s bollocks off, mate, but I’m more than happy to give him the beating of his life. In fact, by the time I’ve finished with him, he’ll be wishing I had rammed his balls down his fucking throat instead.” Both Paul and Peter laughed at that, but Freddy just didn’t feel like laughing. He just couldn’t get his head round the idea that his mum was planning to do a runner again! Oh! He knew he wasn’t supposed to know about the events that had taken place on World Cup final day, but he’d overheard his dad telling his sister Mary all about it in the office at the garage. What kind of a woman was his mother? She was a far cry from what he’d actually thought of her. Now he had to make sure that his mum didn’t run off with this Derek Collins character or that his poor old dad didn’t end up committing murder.

  “Freddy, mate, you get off home. Make sure your mum knows you’re on to her without giving the game away and we’ll sort this Derek Collins out for you, okay?” offered Peter.

  “Yeah, Freddy, we’ll be his very own Father Christmas, delivering one hell of a present.” Once again, Paul laughed at his own joke but this time all three of the friends laughed together.

  “Is that you, son?” shouted out Freddy’s dad as he let himself in the back door.

  “Yeah, Dad, sorry I’m a bit late. Got caught up with the twins.”

  “I hope they weren’t dragging you into their world of crime, son.” Freddy walked into the front room as his dad spoke, and he settled himself on the opposite end of the sofa to his mum. She looked like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, sitting there knitting without a care in the world.

  “This ain’t London, Dad, and Paul and Peter ain’t Shropshire’s answer to The Kray Twins.”

  “I’m not saying they are, son, but the police are round their gaff that often, they’re thinking of running the police station from there.”

  Freddy thought, “What’s with all the wisecracks tonight?” before he responded.

  “That’s because their old man is a pisshead, Dad, who likes to throw his weight around. The twins are only trying to protect their old mum, that’s all.”

  “I know, son, but them boys ain’t always protecting their mum and you and I both know that. So, what skulduggery were they up tonight?”

  “A few frames of snooker then a quick trip out to the Fox and Duck.” Freddy heard the pause in the clattering of his mum’s knitting needles when the Fox and Duck was mentioned.

  “Doing a bit of protecting out there, was they?” asked his dad.

  “If you must know, yes! They’ve been asked to put the frighteners on some bloke, rough him up a bit. Make him see the error of his ways.” Once again, the knitting needles stopped clattering, only this time his mum let them lie in her lap.

  “What’s he done, this bloke?” she asked.

  “Seems he’s knocking off someone else’s missus and he’s found out. So, he’s asked the twins to sort it for him. They heard he was going to be at the Fox and Duck tonight but when we got there he’d already left.”

  “I wished you’d not gone with them, son; you don’t want to get caught up in that sort of thing,” remarked Harry. “Good thing for you really that he’d left.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right, Dad, but don’t worry, I’ll make sure I’m nowhere to be seen when they catch up with him.”

  “Let’s hope for their sakes they don’t, son.”

  “I’m afraid they will, Dad. They know where he works and where he’s living. I’ve got a feeling he won’t be having a merry Christmas.”

  “Well, he’ll only be getting what he no doubt deserves,” Harry sighed. “Now, let’s drop this line of talk and have us a Christmas drink; it is Christmas Eve after all. Elsie, go get some glasses; we’ll have us a drop of port.”

  Elsie happily put her knitting away and headed off into the kitchen. She needed a moment alone to think. It was no coincidence her Freddy being up the Fox and Duck with those thug twins. It was her Derek they were after, no mistaking, and Freddy knew, that was for sure. She needed to warn Derek, but how could she? She’d only managed to get away for an hour tonight because every year she went for a quick Christmas drink with her best friend, Joanie. She knew she’d taken a big risk doing that. Joanie wasn’t one to be fobbed of easily. She’d had to lie about using the time to collect a surprise gift for Harry. But tomorrow was Christmas Day; there was no way she could get away and it was simply out of the question to try using the house phone to warn Derek. The house would be full to the rafters with family members. In fact, she had no chance of getting word to Derek for the next two days. Elsie just hoped the twins were also spending Christmas at home!

  Derek Collins spent Christmas Day and most of Boxing Day alone in his room listening to the radio and eating cold beans from a can. There had been a Christmas invite from the B&B’s owners to join them for the festivities. However, it was only for breakfast and that had been served in total silence. He’d finally had enough of looking at the same four walls and his own company and decided to take a walk and see if he could find a pub open somewhere and perhaps someone, anyone, to talk to. By the end of the night Derek wished he’d stayed home alone. He’d paid out good money for some watered-down whisky in a flea-ridden pub and now he was lying face-down in some back alley having taken a beating from two thugs warning him to leave town and stay the hell away from Elsie Arnold. Well, he was most definitely down but he was by no means out. He was Derek Collins, aka John Walker, aka Walter Johnson. In fact, he had more aliases than he cared to remember. It had been a very long time since he used his real name, Kenneth Harlow. He’d done time for GBH and was wanted on several accounts of ABH down south. No jumped-up little thugs were going to scare him away. They’d just got lucky, that was all. Elsie Arnold was his bitch now and he was going to be leaving town with her! He spat out the blood that had formed in his mouth and with a harrowing howl hauled himself up off the ground and headed back to the B&B. There’d be no hospital visit for him tonight. Just a bottle of whisky and a long soak in a hot bath.

  It was New Year’s Eve. Earlier in the day, Elsie had packed a small holdall with some of her clothes and a few toiletries and had hidden it behind the shed down beside the back-garden gate. Harry and Freddy had already left for the club and Anne was upstairs bathing Janie. Freddy had informed her of Derek’s beating on Boxing Day evening. She’d been furious, but she’d managed to sneak away the next day and phone Derek at his lodgings. He’d told her he was okay and that the sooner they left the better. So, the plan had been made. She wasn’t going to be able to take as much has she’d hoped but that didn’t matter. She’d be away. She’d be rid of all the demands these selfish bastards asked of her day in day out. Elsie put on her most loving voice as she shouted up the stairs to Anne.

  “I’m off now, love, to meet your dad at the club. Don’t wait up, I’m sure it’ll be a late one. Oh, and Ann
e,” she added as a cruel afterthought, “HAPPY NEW YEAR,” and with that Elsie left by the back door, collecting her bag from its hiding place as she headed out of the back gate. As she turned the corner at the top of the road, she could make out the tail lights of Derek’s car, idling in the lay-by. She hurried across the road and walked up to the passenger side of the car. As fast as she could, she opened the door, threw her holdall onto the back seat and climbed into the passenger seat. She looked across at Derek. His face was a mess, but she could see the swelling was already going down. She leaned across and tenderly placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

  “All set?” he asked.

  “You bet,” Elsie replied, then planted another kiss on Derek’s cheek. With that Derek pulled out onto the road and into the night. Elsie never once looked back.

  Freddy kept one eye on the clock and the other on the door to the club. His mum should have been here a good hour ago, but there was no sign of her. He glanced across at his dad. He was chatting away to one of their neighbours, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. Poor bugger thought Freddy. It was no good: he’d have to go see what was keeping that slut of a mother of his. Freddy placed his glass down on a nearby table and headed off out of the club’s main door to see if he could see her anywhere outside. He was just about to take a look around the back of the club when a hand was firmly placed on his shoulder. Freddy froze on the spot.

  “It’s only me, son,” said his dad. “Come back inside and enjoy yourself; its New Year’s Eve.” Freddy turned to face his father.

  “I thought I’d go see where mum has got to,” he began. “I’m worried about her.” Harry looked into his son’s eyes and could plainly see all the love, hurt and anguish in them. He pulled Freddy close to him and hugged him as if he were once more that little boy who used to plead for one of his daddy’s bear hugs. Freddy automatically hugged his father back. Finally, Harry released his hold and held his son at arm’s length.