Christmas for the Halfpenny Orphans. Cathy Sharp
girls from St Saviour’s had bought her as a wedding present; it had a whistle that let everyone know when it was boiling. Alice set it on her modern gas cooker, which Michelle envied on her mother’s behalf. ‘I like coconut cake – especially if it’s moist and chewy.’
‘It’s moist,’ Alice said, then added doubtfully, ‘but I’m not sure it’s chewy – it isn’t one of those pyramid things you make with condensed milk. It’s a proper cake with a lot of coconut. I bought a bag of the desiccated stuff at the Home and Colonial. Isn’t it lovely that things are beginning to come back into the shops again?’
‘Best not eat too many cakes, even if you can buy them,’ Michelle teased. ‘If you want your figure back …’
‘Never was as slim as you,’ Alice said and laughed. ‘I’m so glad you came round, Michelle. You’re a real tonic.’
‘That’s what friends are for. I’ll always be your friend, Alice. We have to stick together, be there for each other.’
‘I know.’ Alice embraced her. ‘Don’t worry about your dad too much, love. I’m sure he’ll be fine.’
‘I hope you’re right. He’s ever so miserable since the doctor put him on that diet.’ Michelle sighed. ‘Oh well, he’s got an appointment at the hospital tomorrow for some tests, so we should know what’s wrong in a couple of weeks …’
Leaving Alice’s house two hours later, Michelle was lost in thoughts of her father as she walked through the narrow streets towards her tram stop. She was vaguely aware that several of the streetlights weren’t working, but when the moon disappeared behind a cloud it suddenly became difficult to see. A shiver ran through her, and Michelle registered that it wasn’t so much the cold night air that had caused it as the sense that she was being followed. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a man some distance behind her. When he noticed her looking at him, he stopped walking and bent to tie his shoelace.
Michelle walked on. Determined not to let on that she was afraid, she deliberately slowed her pace. Her shadow did the same. He was following her; she wasn’t imagining it. She turned into the next street, which was busy with people and traffic, then suddenly stopped within sight of her tram stop. Once again he stopped too, loitering outside a newsagent’s and pretending to be interested in the window display. When he turned to look at her, Michelle saw that he was uncertain what to do.
‘Why are you following me? What do you want?’
‘What makes you think I’m followin’ yer?’
‘We both know you are …’ At that moment Michelle saw a police constable approaching on his bike. He was within hailing distance. ‘Tell me what you want and go or I’ll scream and tell that policeman you threatened me.’
‘Bitch!’ The man grabbed her arm, his fingers pinching her flesh. ‘I’ve been told to give yer a warnin’. We ain’t forgot yer, Alice Cobb, even if yer are married to that bloody Army boy. One of these days Mr Lee will be payin’ yer a visit and you’d best tell him what yer know or you’ll be sorry.’
‘Tell Mr Lee he should look after his own affairs instead of employing idiots who don’t even know the person they’re supposed to be following. I’m not Alice and I’m not frightened of you or your Mr Lee.’ She glared at him. ‘Now take your hand off my arm and crawl back into whatever rotten hole you came out of. If you ever come near me or my friend Alice, I’ll be talking to the police about you and your Mr Lee.’
The policeman had seen them now and he shouted something. Michelle wrenched away from the man, who glared at her but then glanced nervously in the direction of the constable and set off at a brisk pace, disappearing into a nearby alley. The constable wobbled to a stop beside her, putting his feet to the floor. His trouser legs were clamped with bicycle clips, exposing shiny, thick-soled black boots; beneath the helmet that was firmly strapped under his chin, an anxious pair of eyes peered out at Michelle. He looked so young and inexperienced, she doubted that he would have been much use against the brute who’d harassed her.
‘Was that man annoying you, miss?’
‘Oh, it was a case of mistaken identity. He thought I was someone else.’
‘You don’t want anything to do with the likes of him. He’s a nasty piece of work, that Big Harry. Did he upset you?’
‘He gave me a bit of a shock,’ Michelle admitted, ‘but he didn’t hurt me. I think his intention was to give me a warning, but I told him he had the wrong person.’
‘His kind don’t care who they threaten,’ the constable said. ‘You be careful, walking alone at night, miss.’
‘It’s all right, I’m catching my tram now; it’s coming round the corner.’
‘Off you go then. And don’t worry – we’ll keep an eye on him. If he bothers you again, tell us and we’ll soon sort him out.’
Michelle smiled inwardly as she thought of the constable trying to sort out Big Harry, but she thanked him for coming to her assistance. Then, seeing her tram arriving, she excused herself and ran for her stop. It wasn’t until she sat down that she realised how shaken the experience had left her.
She wondered why Butcher Lee and his gang still thought Alice would know something about Jack Shaw – the East End bad boy that Alice had been soft on but who had left her high and dry. After all, she was married to someone else now, and Jack hadn’t been seen since the night he broke into the boot factory with Arthur Baggins, intending to rob the safe. Someone had set fire to the building while they were inside; Arthur had escaped, but Jack was presumed to have died. If by some chance he had escaped, he surely wouldn’t risk returning to London knowing the Lee gang were out to kill him.
Michelle was pretty sure Alice knew no more about Jack’s fate than she did, otherwise she would certainly have mentioned it. Still, if Lee thought otherwise she’d have to warn Alice to be on her guard.
The morning after Michelle’s visit, Alice returned from the market to find a letter waiting for her. The sight of it sent a tingle of apprehension down her spine: it was addressed to Miss Alice Cobb rather than Mrs Manning, and she was almost certain she knew the handwriting.
For a moment she considered putting it straight in the bin without opening it, but something wouldn’t let her. Though she knew she ought not to read it, she couldn’t resist slitting it open and taking out the contents.
I got a mate to deliver this, Alice love. He said he knew where you were living and I daren’t bring it myself. I can’t come to your home, but I want to see you. I should never have left you. I think of you and my kid all the time, and now I’ve got things sorted we can go to America. My ship leaves in three weeks and I want us to be on it together. Please meet me, Alice. It’s too dangerous for me to come to you, but if you take the train to Southend, I’ll meet you by the pier. Come next Saturday and I’ll be there every hour from twelve until nine at night. I’ve put in £2 for your fare, and the key to a locker at Euston Station. I need you to fetch a parcel for me, Alice love. No one will notice you and it’s important … do that for me, Alice, and you’ll never regret it, I promise.
I still love you, Alice. I’ve never stopped thinking about you, but I had to keep moving around. People were looking for me, and I couldn’t let you know where I was until now.
So he was alive! Alice sat down on the nearest chair, feeling sick and shaken. Her hands trembled as she was caught by a surge of disbelief mixed with elation. He was alive, despite what everyone had told her. She felt overwhelming excitement followed almost as swiftly by despair, for it was too late. Tears stung her eyes and trickled silently down her cheeks, as she realised that she still cared for him.
She’d never quite given up on Jack Shaw, even when everyone said he was dead, but now she felt as if the breath had been knocked out of her. Alice looked at the two one-pound notes Jack had sent, staring at them as if they would burn her. She held the small key with a numbered tab in her hand and frowned. What was