He told her. Out in the street, with the warm, flower-scented air from the front gardens vying with the sea-crusted breeze, he told her exactly what Davey had imparted to him the night before. Rosie’s grip on her son tightened, and she swallowed twice and moved her head before she managed to say, ‘I hate Shane. I do, I hate him.’ Zachariah took her arm, bending close to her and pulling her into his body with the baby sandwiched between them.
‘It will be all right. Trust me, lass.’ He smiled, but for the life of her she couldn’t dredge up an answering smile. ‘I’ve put me feelers out an’ me arm is longer than his, whatever he might think. We’ll soon know if there’s anythin’ brewin’.’
‘How dare he?’ Indignation followed hard on the shock, and now Rosie’s face was scarlet with anger as she repeated, ‘How
dare
he think he can intimidate us, Zachariah? If there
is
anything in this, this is the last time he interferes with my life. I’ve had enough, more than enough, and I shall tell him so to his face.’
‘You won’t, lass.’ His voice was sharp. ‘Now I want your word on that. I don’t want you within a mile of that scum.’
Rosie took a step backwards. Zachariah had never used that tone with her before, even in their argument about her going to the brothel to see Molly, and she didn’t like it. ‘He needs to be told,’ she said tightly. ‘He seems to think he can do anything he likes.’
‘An’ he’ll find out he can’t, right? But you seein’ him will do no good at all. Now I’m not jestin’, lass. I want your promise you won’t get involved in any of this. Come on, promise me.’
‘No.’
‘No?’
It was their second serious altercation, but then Zachariah cut through her defences when he said, his voice soft and loving and his own again, ‘Rosie, lass, I shan’t know a moment’s peace if you don’t. Please, lass.’
In that moment she was tempted to promise him anything, but she couldn’t. She stared at him for a second, her eyes soft, and then she said, ‘I can’t, Zachariah, not in all honesty, but I promise I won’t do anything foolish like seeing him alone. Will that do?’
He shook his head slowly. ‘Not really, but knowin’ you when you get the bit between your teeth it’s the best I’m goin’ to get, eh?’
His tone was wry, and as he pulled her close again, the baby snuggled between them, Rosie relaxed against him.
He had known all along, hadn’t he? Hadn’t he? Aye, but he had hoped against hope he was wrong.
It was a few days later and the weather had broken, violent thunderstorms shaking the heavens in the last two days, but this particular evening, although cool, was quiet and still. Zachariah was in the kitchen and Rosie was upstairs in the nursery, and now Zachariah took a hard pull of air deep into his lungs before turning to the man sitting opposite him at the scrubbed kitchen table and saying, ‘I appreciate you comin’, Alec. An’ you say there’s no doubt he means to do for me?’
Alec Piper shook his head, his heavy lids unblinking as he looked straight at his friend and said, ‘None, Zac. But the man’s a fool for all his wheelin’ an’ dealin’. You’ve plenty of pals an’ that’s somethin’ that don’t seem to have got through his thick skull. You’ve got to sort this one out, man. You know what I mean? Big Abe could put the frighteners on the bloke who’s helpin’ McLinnie with his dirty work this time, but what about the next an’ the next? If you dinna fix him you’re gonna be lookin’ over your shoulder for the rest of your days. No, you’ve got plenty of pals an’ you need ’em for this, Zac, an’ I don’t mean givin’ him just a beatin’ either. It needs to be permanent.’
‘Aye.’ Zachariah swallowed deeply, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. He knew Alec was just waiting for him to say the word and Shane McLinnie would draw his last breath, but they were talking cold-blooded murder here, damn it. He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep at night with a man’s blood on his conscience, even blood as tainted and foul as McLinnie’s.
‘He’s bin doin’ business with the Gallaghers up in Glasgow, dealin’ in all sorts. You know he was in with that bunch?’
‘No, no I didn’t.’ The Gallaghers were notorious far beyond the boundaries of Scotland for their contempt for human life, which was reflected in their empire of hard crime and prostitution rackets. If Shane was one of their boys now he’d sold his soul to the devil.
‘He’s bin doin’ deals for ’em down here, so I understand. ’
Zachariah was thinking fast. Smuggling tobacco and the like was one thing, hadn’t his own mam and da been up to their necks in the trade, but the Gallaghers were living embodiments of evil. Even so . . . No, he couldn’t countenance murder. But if the right people dealt with this, Shane McLinnie wouldn’t make the mistake of coming after him again. Alec’s cohorts could be very persuasive; he had seen the results of some of their inducements and it wasn’t pretty. It would do the trick; Alec could make Shane wish he’d never been born.
‘He needs teachin’ a lesson, that’s for sure, but to tell you the truth, Alec, I’m not too keen on the other. I’ve not the stomach for it.’
‘He wouldn’t think twice about doin’ you in, man. That’s what this is all about, for cryin’ out loud.’
‘Aye I know, I do know, but it don’t alter what I feel in me guts. A good hidin’, somethin’ he’ll carry for the rest of his life is enough.’
Alec cast a sideward glance at his friend before shaking his head slowly. ‘You’re playin’ a dangerous game, Zac. Far better to do the job clean. He’s down at the docks most nights an’ it could be quick an’ painless if that’s the way you want it. Meself I’d make the scum suffer a bit first if he was after me or mine.’
Zachariah didn’t comment on this. He knew Alec wasn’t jesting and there was nothing he could say. There was silence for a minute or two and Zachariah poured them both another tot of whisky from the bottle on the table before he said, ‘An’ it was planned for the day after next, you say?’
‘Aye. Seems you go into Gateshead on the last Thursday of the month an’ call in for a bevvy with Tommy Bailey on the way back? Well they must’ve bin watchin’, ’cos they’ve got it all clocked. Makes sense when you think about it, them goin’ for the pair of you when you leave the pub. Fights happen like that all the time.’
Zachariah nodded. Aye, it made sense all right. Two men involved in a bust-up was different to a man alone being set upon. And if one poor devil was left lying dead in a dark street that was just a fight that had gone too far, wasn’t it?
‘Seems you normally have a drink in the Dog and Rabbit?’ Alec was still talking. ‘Well, it would’ve bin your last one.’ He leant back in the seat and surveyed Zachariah through slitted eyes. ‘Still want to turn the other cheek?’
‘I’m not talkin’ about turnin’ the other cheek, man, an’ you know it. What if . . .’ Zachariah tapped his fingers on the arms of the wooden chair in which he was sitting a number of times before he continued, his voice low, ‘What if I went to Gateshead as normal an’ got back at me usual time, everythin’ nice and friendly. An’ me an’ Tommy have our darts an’ pint, but there’s a couple of extras in the pub that night, know what I mean? An’ they happen to leave just after us but careful like. An’ they see these fellas attack us . . .’
‘Aye, I know just the type. Invisible when they want to be.’
‘An’ they’ll keep their mouths shut?’
‘Need you ask? But I still reckon you ought to have the job done properly. The more I hear about this bloke McLinnie the less I like him.’ Alec downed his drink in one gulp and stood up. ‘But there’s no changin’ your mind once it’s made up, I know that of old. I just hope you don’t live to regret it.’
‘It worked with Charlie Cullen.’ Zachariah grinned as he too rose from the table, but when there was no answering smile on Alec’s face he leant across and tapped the other man’s arm as he said, ‘I don’t have a choice, man, that’s the thing. I couldn’t look me little ’un in the face when he’s older if I had blood on me hands.’
Alec looked at him for a moment before pursing his lips and shaking his head. ‘By, I’m glad I’m not a family man, Zac, that’s all I can say. If this is what bein’ wed does to you, you can keep it.’
It was heartfelt, and now Zachariah was smiling broadly. ‘Aye, well, everyone to their own, Alec, eh? I wouldn’t swop my lot for all the tea in China an’ that’s the truth.’
Alec had gone and Zachariah was in the garden when Rosie came downstairs. The leaves on the trees were trembling slightly and the twilight was golden-hued, the air scented with the summer smell that comes after rain, as she plumped down beside him on the garden bench. ‘What are you doing sitting out here? It’s a bit chilly.’
‘Is it?’ Zachariah had turned to her as she sat down, and now he continued to stare at her, taking in every contour of her face. He had already decided he wasn’t going to tell her what Alec had discovered, so now, when Rosie said, ‘Well? What did Alec have to say?’ he answered, ‘Just reportin’ on how things are goin’, that’s all. Didn’t want me to think he wasn’t botherin’, I suppose.’
Rosie looked at him long and hard before she said, ‘And?’
‘Nothin’ to tell as yet.’
‘I see.’ She had suspected he was going to try and keep her out of this and so she had felt no compunction in listening to his conversation with Alec from her vantage point in the hall. And of the two men she had to admit she felt Alec had a more realistic understanding of Shane McLinnie. Not that she could countenance cold-blooded murder any more than Zachariah could. But there were other ways to deal with Shane McLinnie and make sure he was put away for good.
They continued to sit in the garden until it was quite dark. Not kissing, not even talking, just holding each other close in the cool soft darkness as the world outside their sanctuary fell silent and even the birds stopped their twittering and settled down for the night. But although she sat quietly, even serenely, Rosie was far from quiet and serene inside.
Shane McLinnie meant to do Zachariah harm; perhaps even her too? Or worse than anything, their baby? All these months of silent intimidation had been building up to something, and she was surprised and even a little shocked at the depth of her loathing for Annie’s son.
It had been there for some time and she could pinpoint the exact moment that contempt and dislike had hardened to hatred. Since that moment on New Year’s Eve when she had looked into Shane’s contorted face she hadn’t known real peace. And it had got worse since Erik had been born. Every time she contemplated that tiny face which was such a perfect miniature of his handsome father, she felt a fierce protectiveness that made her heart gallop. She would kill anyone who tried to hurt their child, she would, and without a moment’s hesitation. But handled right, this could end without any bloodshed.
Alec was right in so much as you couldn’t frighten Shane, and he wouldn’t be stopped with a beating either - even the kind that Alec had in mind - so that left only one option as far as Rosie could see, because the man who had spat his venom at them on New Year’s Eve was beyond reasoning with. He always had been.
Several miles away, Annie was saying exactly the same thing. ‘You’re beyond talkin’ to, that’s the truth of it. I dinna understand you, even if you are me own.’
Shane was sitting at the kitchen table stolidly eating his evening meal. The others had had theirs long ago and left the house for some meeting or other in support of the latest strike at the steelworks; Annie wasn’t sure where, or even what it was all about. He didn’t bother to raise his head as his mother finished speaking. ‘No? Well I shan’t lose too much sleep over that.’
Annie stood looking down at the fair head of her youngest and a surge of terrifying emotion filled her, causing her to turn quickly before she gave way to it. How could you love someone and hate them at the same time? Was it possible? And then the voice was harsh in her head as it said, Don’t ask the road you know. Oh, dear God, dear Lord, help me. Father Bell promised me You would and You have, You have. Don’t stop now when I need You most. He means to do that little lassie and her family some mischief . . .
She heard the sound of a plate being pushed across the wooden table and then Shane’s voice saying, ‘I’m ready for me puddin’.’
Normally she would jump to - he was the only one in regular employment and as such could reasonably demand that his meal be on the table whatever time of the day or night he came home - but this night the pain in her stomach was worse, added to which she knew she had to speak. And so she swung round and reached for the empty plate, picking it up before she said, ‘I’m gonna ask you one more time. What did that dockside scum want with you the other night?’
‘An’ I’ll tell you one more time, it’s nowt to do with you.’
‘I’ll tell yer da an’ the lads--’
‘Me da an’ the lads?’ He parroted her words with sudden viciousness and in the moment it took for her to take a step backwards he had risen so quickly his chair went skidding across the stone-flagged floor to crash against the far wall. ‘How many times have I heard that, Mam? Your da an’ the lads? An’ do you know what you always say when you’re talkin’ about us, all of us? “Our Arthur, the lads an’ Shane.” Or sometimes, “the lads an’ Shane”. I used to think it was because I was the youngest, but I dinna any more.’