Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection

‘I’m seeing Daisy tomorrow,’ Roy revealed with a confident little grin. ‘I think she really likes me.’

‘If that’s true, try not to mess it up this time,’ was Jack’s friendly advice. ‘She’s a decent lass.’

‘I know that now,’ Roy said. ‘She’s better than I deserve, and I’ll try never to let her down again.’

‘Oh no, that won’t do!’ Jack cautioned him. ‘If you want to keep her, you’ll need to do more than “try”.’

For a while, the two of them walked along, their heavy boots clattering against the flagstones and their minds filled with private thoughts.

‘What about Amy?’ Roy asked presently. ‘It looked to me as though you were making a good impression there.’ He grinned mischievously. ‘Fond of her, are yer?’

‘More than fond,’ Jack replied, his voice dropping to a whisper. ‘To tell you the truth, I reckon I’m falling in love.’

Roy whistled. ‘Bloody hell, Jack. Steady on!’

Reluctant to discuss Amy any further, Jack skilfully changed the subject. ‘So? You really want to make a go of it with Daisy then?’

‘Yes, I’m hoping so. What’s wrong with that, eh?’

‘So you’re determined to mend your ways, are you?’

Taking offence at Jack’s comment, Roy brought himself and Jack to a halt. ‘What’s the matter with you? What are you getting at?’ Though he already had an idea of what Jack was referring to.

‘You’ve some shady friends, that’s all,’ he said.

‘What about ’em?’

‘D’you intend to carry on seeing them?’

‘Not all of ’em, no. I’ll admit I’ve met some devious devils,’ he confessed, ‘and I know they got me in more trouble than I could handle, but they’re long gone. I don’t hear from them, and I don’t want to.’

‘But what about the one who lives down your street?’ Jack persisted.

‘Y’mean Don Carson?’

Jack nodded. ‘Will you go on seeing him?’ Roy almost always confided in him, so he knew Roy still paid him a visit now and then. He also knew that the fella was a close pal of Arnold Stratton, the man who had been gaoled for badly beating Luke Hammond’s wife.

‘I know what yer thinking: that I might get Daisy involved in summat bad, and that Don Carson is every bit as evil as Stratton. Well, he’s not all bad. He’s a rough diamond, sure enough, with an eye for dodgy deals and fast women, but he’s tried to go straight so many times. Trouble is, he’s easily tempted. One time he was even going to settle down and get married. I don’t know what went wrong, but I reckon Don just couldn’t manage the responsibility. But he’s been a good friend to me, helped me when I was down, and I’ll not snub him now.’

The irony of mentioning Don’s former fiancée to Jack in this way did not escape Roy, but it wasn’t Amy he was defending.

Always wary, Jack warned, ‘I know it’s none of my business, Roy, but if you’re as serious about Daisy as you claim, then you need to think long and hard about this: the truth is, the company you keep might well turn out to be the company Daisy will keep. Don’t forget that.’

Given food for thought, Roy remained silent until he and Jack parted company at the bottom of Penny Street. ‘Are you seeing Amy tonight?’ he asked of Jack.

‘I’d like to,’ Jack answered, ‘but she and Daisy are doing “girlie” things – and don’t ask me what that might be, ’cos I don’t know.’

Roy suggested it might be something to do with Daisy telling him she was having her hair trimmed. ‘I told her I liked it the way it was,’ he said, ‘but it didn’t seem to matter what I thought.’

Jack laughed. ‘Never interfere with a woman and her hair,’ he advised. ‘It’s one of those mysterious things men are supposed to know nothing about.’

‘See you in the morning then?’

‘You will.’

‘Good night then.’

‘Good night,’ Jack called after him. ‘And don’t be late!’

While Jack’s journey home to the top end of Penny Street was a mere ten minutes or so, it took twice that long for Roy to get to Johnson Street.

By the time he closed the door to his bedsit, it was already going on for seven o’clock.

A sparsely furnished part of a large Victorian house, his living accommodation consisted of one long, wide room, the bottom of which was curtained off as a bedroom.

In the bedroom part was a narrow bed, a sturdy if unattractive chest of drawers, which also served as a dressing table, and a chair that, with well-worn, dipped seat and sagging upholstery, had seen better days.

The rest of the room was furnished with a grubby old sofa, a small table with drop-down leaves and barley-twist legs and, standing proud on top of a tall slim cupboard, a handsome wireless.

There was also a horsehair-stuffed armchair, from which a multitude of black bristles protruded, and a green rug covering a greater part of the linoleum floor.

To one side of the room was a makeshift kitchen, consisting of a gas stove and a cupboard. There was a small wooden pantry containing a packet of tea, a half-used bag of sugar, a small uncut loaf and a pat of butter. The hinged drop-down lid served as a worktop. The bathroom, which was situated out on the landing, was shared with four other tenants.

The flat wasn’t much, but it was his home and, sparse though it was, Roy considered it to be far more welcoming than the one he had shared with his parents. But that was a long time ago. He had always intended to better himself, but as yet he had not encountered the fortune he believed was waiting for him round every corner.

After washing and shaving, he devoured a cheese sandwich with a mug of tea, then he sat on the chair with his feet up on the table and, eyes closed, listened to the evening music on the wireless.

He was tired yet excited. He thought of Daisy and he couldn’t sit still, so he put on his coat and departed the building.

Don Carson lived on the same street, just a few doors away. Roy visited him often, but had not seen him since he met Daisy again. Tonight he could hardly wait to tell him about his new girlfriend.

After Roy’s three knocks on the front door of Don Carson’s humble abode, Don answered the door.

Unshaven and wearing only his vest and trousers, he looked as if he’d just got out of bed. ‘Oh, it’s you!’ Running his hand through his tousled hair, he stepped back to let Roy shove past. ‘You’d best come inside,’ he invited wearily.

Having followed Don along the passage and into the back parlour, Roy threw himself into a chair. ‘What’s up with you?’ He observed how tired the older man looked, and how he was neither shaved nor properly dressed. ‘I’ve never seen yer look such a mess!’

‘Well, thanks, that’s all I need!’ Taking a long, noisy sigh, Don explained, ‘I’ve been out all day, looking for work, but soonever I mention I’ve been in gaol, they don’t want to know.’

‘Why don’t yer lie to ’em?’

‘What’s the use o’ doing that?’ the other man asked. ‘They’d find out sooner or later.’

‘Work for yersel’ then.’

The other man sat down, his sharp eyes trained on Roy. ‘Oh, yeah, doing what?’

‘Don’t ask me,’ Roy shrugged. ‘You’ve allus found summat in the past. Rob a bank or summat.’ He laughed at his own suggestion. ‘That’s it,’ he cried jubilantly. ‘Rob a bank, why don’t yer?’