The Liverpool Trilogy (133 page)

‘Ready for what?’

‘Ready to work there.’

Anna dropped into a chair. ‘He’s got a good job, Roisin. Very highly thought of in legal circles, that man of yours. And you’ll have him selling newspapers and
tobacco?’

‘I am not letting him out of my sight, Mam.’

‘Don’t you know that people shouldn’t be together twenty-four hours a day?’

Rosh awarded her mother a withering glance. ‘I’ve managed it with you when I was a child and when we lost Phil. If I can tolerate you—’

‘It’s not you I’m concerned about, madam. It’s him. You’ll drive him mad.’

‘He’s visited mad already and wasn’t too keen on it. Anyway, he can make up his own mind. The leg’s no better, and he’s as thin as a peeled rake, so I shall be
looking after him as best I can.’

‘Hmmph.’

‘Same to you.’

‘We’ll be off, then.’ Anna went to capture the grandchildren.

Rosh blotted her lipstick. Roy hadn’t been here since the death of Clive Cuttle. ‘Worse for you, my love, because I was out of it, unfeeling as a stone, and you had to take a life.
And you already felt guilty because of wishing your father dead.’ She was bringing him back to this house, to the scene of the . . . the incident. Would he ‘see’ Cuttle in the
kitchen? Would the breakdown recur, would he suffer?

She pulled on a coat. November shivers were something she could do without. Should she change her mind and allow a member of staff to come with him? No. She and Roy needed to talk in
private.

‘I can’t do without him much longer. He’s the only man alive I can love the way I loved Phil.’

‘I know.’

Rosh turned. ‘Can’t even talk to myself, can I?’

‘Not while I’m around, no.’

Rosh kissed her children, told them she hoped they would enjoy the film, made sure they were dressed warmly, then found her keys. The little van purchased for the shop was making its first long
journey tonight. Whiston wasn’t far away on a map, but it was a stretch for a woman who’d driven just locally until now.

When she reached the grim, grey place, he was seated on a chair in the central corridor. So thin, he was, and there were streaks in his hair where the colour was fading. But this served only to
make him more attractive, and she ran to greet him with her arms widened to receive him. ‘Handsome devil,’ she whispered after kissing him.

He was quiet. Leaving this place had not been easy on the few occasions when he’d been taken out shopping for a couple of hours. But this was different. He was with his sweetheart, his
princess, his backbone. Yes, he was going to a place that had been bad for a while, though its longer history was cloaked in happiness. He would be all right.

She set off back towards home. ‘You’ll be all right,’ she said, as if reading his thoughts.

The smile was audible in his reply. ‘I know. As long as I have you, as long as I’m with you, whatever happens, I shall always be all right. Don’t worry about me.’ Rosh
had been through the real hell, yet he had managed to crack up and make a spectacle of himself. A hero? Heroes didn’t come apart at the seams and allow the terror to show.

Rosh was very worried. Should they eat in her house, the place in which he’d put an end to the evil predator Clive Cuttle? Or should they go across to the house in which he’d seldom
been happy since the death of his poor mother?

‘And how are you?’ he asked.

‘Oh, I’m great. The café’s done, but with just sixteen covers until I open the kitchen and expand the menu. I’m a driver, as you can see, and the children are
wonderful. Alice is still different, has to carry an article from home wherever she goes, but she’s top of her class with an adult reading age. Philly’s on the up with her music, and
Kieran’s always attached to a book, mostly medical.’

‘Your mother?’

‘A pain in the bum, so normal, I’d say. She started a campaign about dog dirt, so some neighbour or other collected piles of cat poo and deposited the lot outside our front door.
That put a stop to her. Then she joined the Labour Party. I feel ever so sorry for them. If anybody can spoil their chances locally and nationally, it’s my mother.’ She was prattling
nervously, and she knew it.

A rusty laugh emerged from the passenger’s throat.

‘I’ve not finished.’

‘I know that, sweetheart. Don’t ever alter.’

She blinked. Driving in darkness with eyes filled with tears was not a good plan. ‘So what did she do? She ragged all the Tory posters off shop windows and the like, painted Hitler
moustaches on the candidate’s stiff upper lip and, where she could, pulled Conservative leaflets out of letterboxes and replaced them with Labour.’

‘Was she admonished?’

‘Oh, yes. But she says all’s fair in love, war and politics. I hope you know what you’re taking on, lad.’

He knew what he was taking on. He remembered a precious child having a shave with him, another playing the Moonlight Sonata until he wept, a third engaging him in a discussion about the nervous
system and which parts of the brain were in charge of various functions. A family. And this delicious woman in his arms and in his heart. Well, they were all in his heart, Anna included. ‘How
are you physically?’ he asked.

‘Improving. I couldn’t run a mile, but I’m a lot better.’

‘So am I. I’ve decided to be home for Christmas.’

‘Good.’

The conversation continued in slightly stilted fits and starts until they reached Lawton Road. This was a big step over a small distance, and they both knew it. But Roy climbed out of his seat,
walked round the van, and opened the door for Rosh. ‘Come on, Twinkletoes. Scene of the crime and all that. Let’s get it over with.’

Inside, he took her coat and hung it with his on the hall stand. Without a word, he walked into the kitchen and stood open-mouthed at the view. A new, bigger table covered the place where Rosh
had lain, while a large refrigerator eliminated the spot where Cuttle’s life had ended. The flooring was new, as were sink, cooker, cupboards and shelves.

Rosh was behind him. ‘I thought change would be a good thing. Mr Collingford from the dye works is going to use the upstairs level at the shop for his dry-cleaning. For now, it’ll be
a collection and delivery place, but he might bring machines in, and we’ll get more rent. I bought this new kitchen with the retainer he paid. Nice man, decent family. They visited me in the
Women’s, you know. Brought enough flowers to open a florist shop.’

‘This is lovely,’ Roy said. ‘And when you sell this and I sell my place, we can buy somewhere with a garden for the children and the cats.’

‘All in good time. I think we need to think—’

He kissed her to stop her thinking about thinking. His right hand travelled over the nape of her neck and up into that abundance of hair. It was a hard kiss, hungry, determined; it was the
embrace of a decided man. When it ended, he spoke to her. ‘The future can wait. By its very nature, it must wait. After all that’s happened, I need to get back into my stride – my
limp – at my own pace. The same applies to you, but without the limp. We’ll marry when we’re ready, and I’ll have the pleasure of helping Phil’s children on their way
through life. If you’ll have me. Am I enough?’

‘Oh, yes. You’re enough.’

He was ravenous in more ways than one. ‘As long as it’s not beef strong enough.’

‘Nothing so posh, I’m afraid. It’s a stew type of thing where you just throw things in and hope for a good result. But there’s cobbler on top. Like dumplings, but lighter
and nicer. Shall we take our chances?’

He nodded.

Although she had set the dining-room table, they sat in the kitchen, in the very room in which he had ended Clive Cuttle’s reign of terror, commenting on the meal with its scone cobbler
topping. He had finally overcome the trauma, had dismissed the nightmares and the visions.

They went across the road for coffee, Rosh carrying a pint of milk, since none had been delivered to Roy’s house for months. Eager to keep him to herself on this first occasion, she was
determined to save him from her children’s joy. If Alice saw him, she would enter one of her states of rapture, yap, yap, yap, isn’t everything wonderful, and when are you getting
married? But he saw them from the window, watched as they entered the hall and switched on the lights. ‘They’ve grown,’ he commented.

‘Yes, they do that. It’s a habit they develop during babyhood, and they seem unable to break it until they reach twenty or so. The bridesmaids’ clothes will have to be
re-invented because . . .’ Because he’d been away for months, yet she could hardly say that. But Mother, being Mother, had found material in a sale and had motored on with her sewing
despite the fact that no date had been fixed.

He turned. ‘But you do love me? You aren’t marrying me out of gratitude or pity?’

‘Yes and no. Yes, I love you squillions, and no, there’s no pity. Some gratitude, no pity. All right? Will I do?’

‘I’ve loved you, Roisin Allen, since you were fourteen. Perhaps even earlier. I remember being impressed because you were only a girl, but you could pick up worms and caterpillars.
And you had silky hair. That such a pretty thing would lift up a beetle and count its legs was brilliant.’

‘I’m a treasure,’ she said. ‘There’s no better word for me, is there? Shall we get you back to the asylum?’

But they didn’t get the chance. Alice arrived first. ‘We saw the lamps switched on in your house.’ She stretched out her arms and claimed him. ‘I missed you. I never had
a shave.’

Philly and Kieran were on their sister’s heels. They greeted him in a quieter way, but their beaming smiles said so much more.

Anna pushed her way in. ‘I came out of the bathroom, down the stairs, and there they were – gone. Completely disappeared. Can’t even answer the call of nature, can I? I trust
you’re well, Roy?’

Alice wouldn’t let go.

Anna tutted. ‘Looks like the poor man’s become attached to something or other. Alice, put him down.’

The little girl frowned. ‘I haven’t picked him up. He’s too heavy for me. You know he’s too heavy.’

‘And she’s giving me the dirty looks again, Roisin.’

‘She’s a realist, Mother.’

‘Is she now? Well I wish she’d take a realistic look at the benefits of broccoli. She used to eat it, didn’t she? Now she has to have her dinner without trees,
and—’ Anna turned. ‘What the blood and bone is all this?’

Rosh understood immediately. Some neighbour or other had been promised payment if he or she contacted the press. ‘Let’s get it over with,’ she suggested to her fiancé.
‘There’ll be plenty of flashes, because it’s dark, but better now, when you’re going to escape back to Whiston for a while. Come along, nine-day wonder.’

They faced and dealt with a barrage of questions, were photographed as a group, and as a couple, then had to accept more questions. When would they marry, had she healed completely, how had he
been treated during his breakdown, were the children happy about their soon-to-be stepfather, what did Anna think about the hero and about her daughter’s second marriage?

When Roy was asked for details about the killing of Clive Cuttle, Rosh stepped forward. ‘Wonderful,’ she declared. ‘You finally display your true colours, and you’re
about as sensitive as a box of cabbages. There’s no more to be said, but any further harassment you will pay for. We are determined to protect each other’s well-being, and you have
already been warned about speaking to or in the presence of my children. I am tempted to say something very rude, two words about sex and travel, but my children are with me just now.’

Anna spoke up. Anna would always speak up. ‘Away with you now, you no-good pack of rats. See the doors open all down this road? Just a click of my fingers, and every one of your cameras
will suffer accidental but fatal damage. So bog off.’

The rats dispersed.

Rosh watched as ten or more cars left the road. She imagined the headlines –
Hero Returns to the Bosom of his New Family
,
Killer of a Killer Allowed Home from Mental Ward
.
She’d allowed the children to be photographed because it was inevitable, and she needed to control the vermin. But no more. They’d had their pound of flesh, and if they were still
hungry they could feed off the bones of some other innocent souls.

‘Our wedding will be soon and in secret,’ Roy whispered into her ear. ‘Two witnesses, the kids and your mother.’ Inside, he picked one letter out of a pile created by
Anna, who had been in charge of mail to the empty house. He kissed all members of his future family, led them out, and climbed into Rosh’s car. Unable to tell the children that he would be
their new stepdad even sooner than they thought, he simply waved at them as the vehicle pulled away. Anna, too, needed to be kept in the dark, since she had a leaky mouth when it came to gossip.
But he loved her. No one who knew Anna Riley could fail to love her. ‘Rosh?’

‘Yes, love?’

‘Remember when you were in the Women’s?’

‘I doubt I’ll ever forget it, babe.’

‘Well, there was a Tess there, Tess Compton. ‘Your mother talked to me about her. She was in for a hysterectomy.’

‘The one who looked a bit like me? Her husband was a grand chap, or so Mam said. With a limp.’

‘I see. Only your mother told me when she visited me in Whiston that he got his at Dunkirk.’

‘Right. And?’

He swallowed. ‘I think there are three of you.’

‘Three? Three of me? How the heck did that come about?’ She parked the car and stared at him. ‘What are you talking about? I am a one-off.’

‘This letter’s from Tom.’

Rosh let out a long sigh that was almost a whistle. ‘Tess Compton’s Tom?’

‘No. Tess has a Gordon shortened to Don.’

‘With a limp?’

‘Yes, with a limp. Tom hasn’t got a limp.’

‘Well, thank goodness for some better news at last.’

Roy’s mouth twitched. ‘He’s got a Maureen instead.’

‘Oh, I am pleased.’

Roy could contain himself no longer. He burst out laughing and doubled over with the pain of it. When had he last had a good old belly laugh? With tremendous difficulty, he composed himself.
‘There are three women who look like sisters. Well, really, there are more. Only we don’t know where a lot of them are. And they might not all look like you. But another older two from
the previous generation—’