The Cobbler's Kids (28 page)

‘So he must be about thirteen …’

‘Fifteen, actually.’

‘Fifteen years and I’ve never forgotten you.’ He smiled. ‘In fact, I’ve thought about you a lot. You took my heart with you when you disappeared.’

‘You always could tell whoppers, Jack Winter,’ Vera laughed. ‘It’s great to see you again, though.’

It certainly was, she thought. It brought back so many memories of happier days. Of her dear grandparents and of Charlie. Her recollections of those long-ago times in Wallasey had a magical golden glow to them. In those days they had been such a happy family.

She’d loved her dad so much, then. He had seemed such a kindly, loving giant who had treated her like a princess. She could remember riding high on his shoulders as he chased after Charlie and Eddy. He would play all sorts of games with her and read her a story after she was tucked up in bed at night.

Most of all, she remembered her mother. In those days she’d been plump, cuddly and so very kind and cheerful. She’d been so brave and dependable all the time her dad had been away in the army. She’d carried on as though nothing was the matter, yet she must have been dreadfully lonely without him, as well as worried about all the danger he might be in.

It was true that they’d had Gran and Granddad Simmonds popping in every day to see how they were, but her mother must still have been scared that something bad might happen to their father.

Vera had been too young at the time to understand why he had been so different when he’d come back from the war. Looking back, though, she now realised how much the change in him must have distressed her mother, especially when so many other things had gone wrong at the same time.

Almost overnight, or so it seemed, her grandparents and Charlie were gone and absolutely everything had altered. Within a matter of weeks they’d moved away from Wallasey to Liverpool. They’d exchanged their comfortable home in Exeter Road to the barrack-like rooms behind the shop in Scotland Road.

Her mam had done her best to make it into a home, but it had always remained bare. So much of their furniture had been sold that it was never as comfortable or cosy as the home they’d grown up in.

School hadn’t been as friendly, either, Vera thought with a shiver. When she’d attended Manor Road with Jack Winter and all the other friends she and her brothers had then, it had been like one big, happy family. They’d all walked to and from school with each other and played together afterwards.

‘Yes, they were great days when we were both at Manor Road School, weren’t they,’ Jack commented as if reading her mind.

‘It was a long time ago. Another life, almost,’ she agreed sadly.

‘And now we’re both grown up.’ He looked at her speculatively. ‘Are you married, Vera?’

She shook her head emphatically. Colour drained from her face as she remembered Bill Martin.

‘I seemed to have touched a raw nerve,’ Jack said hastily.

‘No, it’s all right.’ She bit down on her bottom lip and held her head high. ‘How about you?’ she asked quickly.

‘Me, married! I could never find a girl who came anywhere near the one with black shining hair and big blue eyes who’d stolen my heart when I was so young,’ he quipped.

Vera laughed. ‘Still the same old Jack, you always could talk your way out of anything! Anyway, what are you doing in Liverpool?’

The smile went and was replaced by a puzzled look. ‘An old chap called Sam Dowty came to see me last night and told me there was possibly an opening for a manager at a snob shop in Scotland Road.’ He looked at a crumpled scrap of paper he took from his pocket. ‘This was the number he gave me …’

Vera nodded. ‘That’s right, but I had no idea who Mr Dowty was thinking of as he forgot to tell me your name. I was hoping that he would come by this morning and let me know who it was.’

‘Instead of which, I turn up! Well,’ he looked round the shop and work area, ‘all very business-like. Plenty of customers?’

Vera shrugged. ‘We did have, but since my dad’s been ill trade has dropped off a bit. It picked up again when Mr Dowty began helping out, but I’m afraid …’

‘His eyesight isn’t what it should be and his work wasn’t up to standard. Don’t worry, he explained it all to me. And about the owner’s illness, so there’s no need for us to talk about that either. The only thing Sam Dowty didn’t tell me was the name over the shop!’

‘So does this mean you are interested in coming to work here?’

‘Well, I’m anxious to change my job. I want to be a manager and I’ll never get the chance where I am now. There’s two blokes older than me already waiting for the boss to retire. When old Sam told me about this place I was in two minds as to whether I wanted to work in Liverpool or not. Now I know I’m going to see you every day then I’m quite sure that I do.’

Vera smiled. ‘I remember you were always one for cheeky answers.’

‘It’s my smile that charms everybody,’ he laughed. ‘Well, do you want me to get started so that you can check out the standard of my work before we do a deal?’

‘I suppose that is the right way to do things, but somehow I don’t think it will be necessary. I know all about you and by the sound of it you haven’t changed very much. If Sam Dowty recommends you and says you’re a good worker then I’m sure he’s right.’

‘What about your dad? Won’t he want to have a say in all this?’

Vera frowned. ‘To tell you the truth, I’m rather hoping that he might not remember that it was Sam and not you who was working here.’

‘Whew!’ Jack puffed out his cheeks. ‘I know I’m a lot older than I was when we last met, but I didn’t think I’d aged that much! I could wear a white wig and a false beard, I suppose!’

Vera shook her head. ‘Oh, come on, Jack. You know what I mean.’

‘Of course I do. I was only trying to lighten what looks to be a very serious situation. I haven’t seen your dad since you lived in Wallasey …’

Vera held up a hand to silence him as the door between the living room and the shop opened and Michael Quinn was suddenly standing there.

He looked tired and dishevelled, but his bloodshot blue eyes were alert and wary.

‘So who is this, then?’ he rasped.

‘Jack Winter. We knew him when we lived in Wallasey. I … I went to school the same time as he did.’

‘Hello, Mr Quinn.’ Jack held out a hand, which Michael ignored.

‘Sam Dowty sent Jack along to take his place,’ Vera said quickly. ‘He’s only this minute arrived. He was just going to start work.’

‘That’s right!’ Jack took down her father’s leather apron from its hook and began to put it on.

‘That’s my bloody apron you’ve got there,’ Michael Quinn roared. ‘Haven’t you got one of your own?’

‘I most certainly have, but I didn’t bring it with me this morning. You don’t mind if I wear yours for today, do you?’

Michael didn’t answer. He turned and shuffled back into the living room and slammed the door behind him.

Jack raised his eyebrows as his gaze locked with Vera’s. ‘What does that mean? Have I said or done the wrong thing?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m not too sure, Jack,’ she said uneasily. ‘I’ll try and explain the situation to him while I make a cup of tea for us all. Perhaps I can get him to talk things over with you while we’re drinking it.’

The next few months were some of the busiest, as well as the happiest, that Vera had ever known. Sometimes she had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

Jack Winter had achieved wonders in the shop. His work was impeccable, and in next to no time word had spread and most of their old customers came back. Not only that, but they were so delighted with the results of his handiwork, and so fulsome in their praise, that they were recommending Quinn’s as the best cobbler’s in Liverpool.

‘The last pair of boots I brought in here were well past it, but you’ve given them a new lease of life,’ were remarks Vera heard over and over again.

Jack had also found time to give the shop a complete overhaul. He’d even given the walls a new coat of paint so that everything looked fresh and clean.

‘The spring sunshine shows up dingy corners,’ he laughed, when Vera tried to thank him.

‘I know that, but it isn’t really part of your job to do the decorating.’

‘I did it for my own benefit, really. I like to work in bright, clean surroundings,’ he added as an afterthought.

Vera nodded understandingly. She’d noticed how meticulous he was in the way he arranged everything. Soles were all segregated in their correct sizes and stacked ‘left’ and ‘right’ the way her father had always insisted they should be.

She smiled to herself as she remembered the terrible rows there had been over this when her brothers had been told to sort them out.

‘My dad used to get into a right rage with Eddy and Benny because they could never tell a right sole from a left one,’ she told Jack. ‘It used to scare me so much that I would creep in and sort the soles out for them when Dad wasn’t looking.’

‘Keeping things in order is the easy part,’ Jack grinned. ‘It’s keeping tabs on the pricing of each job and making sure that all the money tallies that I find hard work.’

Vera looked at him in surprise. ‘Really? You’ve not made any mistakes as far as I am aware since you’ve been working here.’

‘Only because I’ve checked everything half a dozen times. I even wake up in the middle of the night wondering if I’ve made any mistakes. It bugs me like hell. Figures were never my strong point, not even when we were at school.’

‘So that was why you were always leaning over my shoulder,’ Vera mocked. ‘I thought you were being friendly, but what you were really doing was copying my work.’

‘Now you know the truth,’ Jack groaned. ‘So what are you going to do about it? Send me packing?’

‘No, you’re too good a workman for that,’ she told him. Her tone became serious. ‘I tell you what, Jack, why don’t I write out all the tags, do the pricing up, and then check that when the work is paid for the money is totalled up correctly?’

‘You mean as well as ordering all the materials we need and checking all the invoices, and paying the bills as they come in?’

She nodded. ‘That will give you more time to concentrate on doing the repairs.’

‘Do you think your dad will settle for that? I don’t want him to think that I’m only doing half a job.’

‘Do we need to tell him the details of how we work?’ Her blue eyes sparkled. ‘He seems to be more than happy to have you here and he’s coming into the shop less and less. Days go by and he doesn’t even ask what’s going on.’

It took them a few weeks to work out a satisfactory system that suited them both. Vera was finding that she had to spend more and more time caring for her father, especially when he was in the throes of one of his attacks, so it was nowhere near as straightforward as they’d intended.

Jack decided that it was important that he knew exactly what needed to be done when the repairs were handed in. Accordingly, he said that he would be accountable for attaching a label listing the details of the work that he would be carrying out. After that it would be Vera’s responsibility to do the pricing up.

There was still the question of the deliveries, though. Vera often found it difficult to fit this chore in during her busy day because of the problems with her father.

‘Perhaps we should make a small charge for deliveries and then more of our customers would come and pick their repairs up from the shop,’ Jack suggested.

‘That would mean we’d have to stay open later at night. Most people don’t finish work until after we close at six o’clock.’

‘How about Benny doing them before he starts on his homework at night? It wouldn’t take him anywhere near as long as it does you because he could use the bike instead of walking.’

‘No! Please don’t mention it to him, not at the moment,’ Vera said quickly.

Jack held up his hands and took a step back. ‘I wouldn’t dream of interfering. You know best!’

‘It’s only a few weeks before he has to sit his School Certificate exams and he’s studying as hard as he can. It means such a lot to him, and to me as well, that he gets good marks,’ Vera explained.

‘Of course it does, I quite understand that,’ Jack assured her. ‘What sort of work does Benny intend to do once he’s passed?’

‘I’ve no idea. One thing’s for sure, though, he doesn’t want to come and work in the shop.’

‘You mean that being a snob isn’t good enough for him?’

‘I don’t think it’s so much that as the fact that he knows he couldn’t work with Dad. They both like doing things their own way.’

‘So do I and your dad seems to have accepted that with no argument.’

‘That’s probably because you do things in the same way as he used to do them. He was always a stickler for order. Even the tacks had to be in their right boxes, graded according to their size, and if he found them muddled up he would get really mad.’

Jack nodded, then frowned. ‘He hasn’t challenged any of the changes, I’ve made, has he?’

‘You haven’t made all that many, Jack. His workbench is still in the same place, and you’ve left the buffing machine and the sewing machine exactly where he likes to have them. Even though you’ve cleaned everything up, and varnished the counter, he can still find everything. I’m sure that’s why he’s accepted you working here so readily.’

‘What about you? Are you still happy about me working here?’ Jack probed.

‘Absolutely!’

His lean face beamed. ‘It’s good to hear you say that! It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ll always be grateful to Sam Dowty for putting us in touch.’

‘And so will I. I’m very thankful indeed,’ she agreed enthusiastically.

As she spoke she saw a flicker in Jack’s hazel eyes that made her colour rise, and she quickly looked away in confusion.

Jack sighed. He’d been wondering whether perhaps he should be looking around for another job, but now that Vera had said Benny had no interest in taking over the business he felt that his own position was safe.

He liked working there. It was not only because he was more or less his own boss, but because he was back in touch with Vera Quinn.

He’d never forgotten about her in all the years that they’d been apart. Now, being able to work alongside her, day in, day out, made him unbelievably happy. He was extremely anxious, though, to know exactly how she felt about him.