Polly's War (44 page)

Joanna began to look agitated, clasping and unclasping her hands, darting anxious glances anywhere rather than meet Lucy’s probing gaze. ‘I do assure you that I knew nothing of this at the time. Nothing at all. It was only after - after Belinda had died that I learned the truth. I wouldn’t have wanted anything serious to happen to Benny, truly I wouldn’t
. I just wanted Belinda to come home
!’
 

It was very much a cry from the heart yet Lucy felt nothing but contempt for the woman, and immense pity for her friend. Poor Belinda, no wonder she’d been eager to run straight into her brother’s arms when he obviously worshipped the ground she walked on, no matter if he was a dreamer. She’d probably have done anything to escape her dreadful parents. Their utter selfishness left Lucy gasping, not to mention appreciate her own Mam and Charlie a lot more.

‘But she didn’t come home, did she? Would never have done so.’

Joanna shook her head, a sad little gesture which should have been heartrending yet somehow left her beautiful face unmarked. ‘No. Belinda always had a strong will but then she gets that from Hubert. Whatever he sets his heart on, he doesn’t stop till he gets it.’

‘We’ve discovered that to our cost,’ Lucy drily remarked. Then as if to escape the claustrophobia of the situation she got up and began to prowl about the conservatory, fingering leaves, smelling sickly sweet flowers which somehow reminded her of graveyards. She sat down again. ‘Did you never think to curb this determination of your husband’s to destroy others for his own benefit? Did you never try to put your daughter’s happiness first?’

It was Joanna now who got up to stand with her arms wrapped tightly about herself and gaze out through misted glass on to a dull grey winter’s day, almost as if she were viewing a world that was strange to her. She looked like an exotic flower held fast in a tropical paradise. ‘There’s something you should understand about me, Mrs Shackleton. I loved my daughter. If I was inadequate as a mother, she accepted that. We were never, how shall I put it, a particularly demonstrative family. She led her life and I led mine. We agreed to differ for much of the time. Occasionally I would attempt to ...’ here she paused and drew in a deep breath, ‘… yes, I shall say it. I attempted to civilise her, and curb her foolish rebellions.’

Lucy almost laughed out loud as she went to stand beside Joanna. ‘That’s rich, that is. You thought
Belinda
needed civilising? Not yourself, nor Hubert - just Belinda?’

‘She tended to go to extremes, just to annoy us. Like her joining the
army
for goodness sake. All on a reckless whim of rebellion to score a point over Hubert. I couldn’t let her ruin her life yet again out of stubbornness.’

‘You don’t think she might have genuinely wanted to join the army? Or that she really loved our Benny?’

Joanna looked confused, as if this thought had never truly struck her before. ‘Sounds rather monstrous put so bluntly but no, I never did consider that for a moment. I did everything I could to persuade her out of marrying him.’

‘Even though you were sleeping with the man your husband wanted for her?’

She winced slightly, but went on, ‘He was no more than a mild amusement. I would’ve given him up for Belinda.’

‘How very generous of you.’ Lucy had heard enough. If she stayed another minute listening to this selfish woman, she might spew up at her feet. She half turned to go but Joanna caught her arm.

‘Never underestimate my husband, not for a moment. I may be weak and foolish, but he’s an utterly ruthless man when it comes to getting his own way, particularly in business matters. He trusts no one, save for his accountant Colin Wilnshaw who makes sure he doesn’t pay a penny more than he should in tax. Hubert’s made a fortune because he’s a man of considerable acumen and courage, always ahead of the market. You have to admire him for that. It isn’t the only reason I stay with him, but I’ve threatened to leave him many times whenever he too blatantly parades his women friends.’

‘Women friends?’

‘Someone called Myra is the most recent, from Slate Wharf would you believe? She may be history now, of course. Dear Hubert has learned to be more discreet over the years and we rub along rather well, in fact.’
 

Lucy didn’t wonder at it. Joanna’s explanations of how she enjoyed the comforts that her husband provided, had unfortunately revealed nothing Lucy didn’t already know. ‘We’ve developed a way of life which suits us well,’ she finished, smiling brightly, almost as if the loss of a daughter were an unfortunate consequence of a business matter that had gone wrong. Lucy felt physically sick.

‘As for Tim Fenton. I’m afraid the poor boy became increasingly dependant upon me, particularly when Belinda refused to marry him. Then when she died … Well, I shall let him down lightly.’ The smile became less fixed, the beautiful mouth curling delightfully up at the corners, rather like a woman with a secret, and Lucy wondered if there was another candidate already waiting in the wings. Joanna Clarke gave no indication of a wife scorned, or one eagerly awaiting an opportunity to put the dagger in.

Lucy grabbed for the door handle, suddenly anxious to quit the suffocating heat of this rarefied existence. ‘I won’t waste any more of your time. There’s clearly nothing I can tell you that you don’t already know.’ Yet despite, or perhaps because of her failure to learn anything herself from Joanna, Lucy paused at the door, the words almost bursting out of her head. ‘But I’ll have you know that you can’t play with folk’s lives the way your husband does without creating havoc. Apart from ruining my mam’s business and leaving her homeless and jobless with a sick husband to care for, there’s no doubt in any of our minds that if Hubert hadn’t interfered, Belinda would be alive today. Think on that.

‘Benny would have got his allocation licence from the Board of Trade, tried and probably failed with his joinering and then gone in with Mam, as he’d always wanted to do deep down. The only problems they ever had were those caused by your husband which, in my view, is disgusting. You’d think a father would want his daughter to be happy, even if it did cut across his own plans for her. Belinda should be alive now, enjoying her son and a good marriage, well and happy.’

Joanna’s beautiful face had turned ashen, her lips thin and trembling. ‘That’s absolute nonsense. Hubert wasn’t responsible for Belinda having a difficult birth. She might still have died, even if she’d had the baby inside the flat.’

Lucy almost sneered. ‘Rather than in the freezing snow in a back street where she bled to death, you mean? You hang on to that thought, love. It might be the only comfort you have in a lonely old age.’ Lucy escaped into the cold street with tears rolling down her cheeks, and drew in a thankful gasp of coal-tainted air which at least had the benefit of being honest muck.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It was agreed that a casual meeting in the Queen’s on Gartside Street was the best way to arouse Hubert’s interest, since it wasn’t a pub where Minnie was known, and the beer was good, not watered down in any way. Even so some doubt was expressed on whether Minnie could carry it off, until they saw her dressed for the part.

She looked entirely different, which of course was the whole idea. Having delved into her old employer’s trunks and boxes kept in the loft, Minnie had decked herself out in a grey sealskin coat that didn’t smell too strongly of moth balls and a pair of well polished court shoes made of finest Italian leather. A shiny black straw hat with a figured veil and a coiled velvet rose sat atop her victory rolls and she sported matching gloves and a large black leather handbag. Instead of her usual thick lisle stockings, she wore a pair of purest pale silk which made her skinny legs look like sticks of coltsfoot rock. The finishing touch was a fox stole which she clipped about her shoulders, the mouth of the stuffed animal opening to bite on its own tail.
 

‘By heck. You look a right bobby-dazzler,’ Benny chortled, impressed by the startling change in her.

‘Aye, till I open me mouth,’ Minnie ruefully admitted. ‘Eeh I’ll go to th’end of our yard, I’ll have a job on, carrying this off.’

‘Just soften those broad vowels a bit,’ Polly suggested with a grin. ‘There’s no harm in being a Lancashire lass, just sound a richer one, that’s all.’

‘I’ll try to hemulate the grand tones of my lady employer,’ she said. ‘How happy hi am to make your hacquaintance.’ Overdoing it to such an extent that they all fell about laughing. But the laughter quickly subsided for this was serious, if not dangerous business. Minnie had every intention of taking Hubert for every penny she could.

They went carefully over the plan in fine detail, leaving nothing to chance and finally decided that some trust would need to be established between them. Funded by Minnie from her savings, Polly bought a consignment of three dozen pairs of leather gloves, fleecy lined and in tan, black and mustard pig skin. They cost seven shillings a pair to sell at eleven shillings and sixpence, but Minnie suggested they ask five bob, so as to prove their worth as suppliers. They’d make a loss, to be sure, but this part of the operation was viewed as an investment for future deals.

A brief note was sent to Hubert to the effect that if he came to The Queens tomorrow night at eight he might hear of a bit of business to his advantage. In point of fact he was there ten minutes early and Minnie was the one to keep him waiting. Stricken with nerves she proceeded into the snug and deposited a box containing a few samples of the gloves on the table in front of him. She was sure that he would notice her hands trembling as she untied the string to let him examine the contents. Minnie didn’t even dare glance up to meet the glowering expression of suspicion she knew would be on his face. Nevertheless she could almost hear his brain ticking over likely profits when she told him the price she wanted for them, and what he could ask from his own customers. No doubt he would add a shilling a pair at least, to her suggestion.

To her vast surprise the deal was struck in less time than it took to shake a dog’s tail as she later told her admiring band of fellow conspirators. Bolstered by success, Minnie was airily promising him she’d keep an eye open for other bargains for him in the future. She might well have a very special consignment coming up soon. In the meantime would he be interested in a dozen or so felt hats? He would. A deal was struck and she promised to include them with the gloves. (Once she’d run round to Lewis’s and bought them, of course.)

‘He’s sending a van round tomorrow evening sharp at seven. You did manage to rent a bit of a warehouse, eh Pol?’ Polly had, if only for the day, again with money loaned by Minnie. If the plan didn’t work, she would be forever in her friend’s debt.

Ron arrived on the dot to take possession of the goods and, as agreed, Minnie was there to greet him, still resplendent in her sealskin coat and shiny black straw. As soon as he handed over the cash, she quickly proceeded to count it before handing over the parcels, ‘So’s he don’t take me for a fool,’ as she later explained. Satisfied, she gave the nod for him to start loading the van with the boxes of hats and leather gloves. Within minutes he was slamming shut the doors and on his way. Minnie locked up, taking care to change back into her own clothes before scurrying back home to Pansy Street.

Questions were thrown at her thick and fast the minute she walked in the door of number 179. ‘Did he fall for it? Was all the money there? Did Ron suspect anything? Dim as he was he might just have recognised her but no, Minnie assured them that everything had gone smoothly.
 

‘Right,’ said Polly. ‘Stage Two.’

Over the next few weeks, they bought and sold several more small consignments of goods to Hubert and he proclaimed himself well pleased. ‘No wonder,’ Minnie said. ‘Robbing meself, I am.’ Not once did he ask any questions about where Minnie lived, or how she’d come to hear of him. Very quietly, and without fuss, she built up an excellent working relationship with him, while expecting at any moment for Hubert to guess who she really was and not the Violet Davenport she purported to be. This was a name so far removed from Minnie’s reality it made her quake to think of it, let alone use it.

They then decided to do nothing for a week or two, watching with interest as Hubert once or twice looked in at the pub and seemed disappointed to find Minnie not there.

‘Right,’ said Polly. ‘It’s time.’

Discreet enquiries by Charlie among contacts he had in Liverpool led to them finding a supplier of cheap jewellery, which they thought far enough from Castlefield to ensure complete secrecy. Polly then bought the finest man’s watch she could find, one which had a Swiss movement and a good leather strap, together with a matching ladies model. She also purchased a beautiful double row of pearls, very reminiscent of the Queen’s wedding gift to Princess Elizabeth. The pearls cost a good deal of money and everyone admired them with something like awe. ‘If the greedy tyke’s eyes don’t light up when he spots these, we’re sunk,’ she admitted.

No one thought this likely. Hubert was ever on the look out for a new opportunity and Polly was sure he wouldn’t be averse to moving a bit upmarket. There were plenty of women with money burning holes in their pockets, now the war was well and truly behind them, and with promises of affluence in the years ahead. The difficulty would come if he started asking how Minnie came by this shipment of jewellery in the first place. A story had to be concocted and memorised by the old woman till she was word perfect.
 

‘I already have him eating out of my hand, and will soon snap his hand right off,’ she promised.