Born Bad. Josephine Cox

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       Chapter Four

      THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Harry was ready to go looking for work. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind keeping an eye on Tom?’ he asked Kathleen. Though reluctant to leave his boy behind, he had been pleased to see how the pair of them were getting on like a house on fire.

      ‘Do I mind?’ Kathleen was wounded. ‘Aw, sure, looking after the little fella will be a joy, so it will.’

      ‘I’ll be quick as I can,’ he promised Tom.

      ‘I don’t mind, Daddy.’ Tucking into one of the apple tarts Kathleen had baked that very morning, Tom proudly informed him, ‘Kathleen’s taking me on the bus to Bedford. We’re looking for new shoes for when I go to school.’

      Harry was puzzled. ‘What about the shoes your mammy bought for you?’

      Tom frowned. ‘My feet won’t stop growing, and now the shoes are squeezing all my toes up. Kathleen says when I grow up like you, I’ll probably have feet the size of meat plates.’

      ‘Is that right?’ Fishing in his wallet, Harry declared, ‘We can’t have my son walking about with his toes sticking out the end of his shoes!’ He gave Kathleen enough money for shoes and socks, and a bit extra for a meal and bus fare.

      ‘So, am I not allowed to buy the boy a new pair of shoes?’ Kathleen feigned an air of indignation. ‘Kathleen O’Leary’s money is not good enough, is that what you’re saying?’

      Harry played her little game. ‘Well, I’m sure I didn’t mean to offend you.’ He held out his hand. ‘Give it back?’

      ‘What! You really want me to give it back? Shame on ye, Harry Boy! You’re a heartless divil, so ye are.’ She winked at Tom, who was beginning to realise it was just a game. ‘Tom, what d’ye think?’ she asked. ‘Should we keep your daddy’s money or not?’

      ‘Keep it! Yes!’ Laughing and screeching, Tom jumped up and down.

      ‘Behave yourselves, you two.’ Harry swung Tom up into his arms. ‘I can see I’ll have to keep an eye on the pair of you,’ he said, wagging a finger. ‘If I’m not careful, you’ll be running rings round me.’

      A thought occurred to him. ‘Look, Kathleen, if you’re taking Tom into town, you might as well jump in the car with me,’ he suggested. ‘I can drop you off at the end of the market, if you like.’

      Kathleen graciously declined. ‘I promised Tom we would go on the bus and he’s looking forward to it.’

      ‘Yes!’ Tom was like a cat on hot bricks. ‘I want to go on the bus with Kathleen, please, Daddy?’

      A short time later, Harry was out of the door, into the car, and away down the street, waving all the way. ‘Keep your fingers crossed for me!’ he called out.

      ‘We will,’ the pair replied in unison.

      Kathleen’s directions were easy to follow, and within the hour, Harry had gone through Bedford Town and out towards the prison, where he took a sharp left. The store was directly in front of him, exactly where Kathleen had predicted.

      Straddling the entire corner and snaking down a considerable length of the back street, the building made an immediate impression. With its great arched entrance, fancy tiles underfoot and sturdy windows, it was an obvious relic from Victorian times; and there on a massive sign, written in large black letters on a deep mustard background, was the proud announcement:

      JACOBS’ EMPORIUM

      ESTABLISHED 1945

      EVERYTHING YOU NEED FOR HOME AND GARDEN

      Drawing the Hillman Minx into the kerb, Harry switched off the engine and got out of the car. After locking the car, he stooped to regard himself in the wing mirror.

      Satisfied, he straightened his tie, polished the uppers of his shoes against the back of his trousers and, taking a deep breath, he strode to the door and rang the bell at the side. There was still half an hour to go until opening time.

      The painted dolly-girl had seen him coming and was eager to tend to him. ‘Good morning, sir. Are you looking for anything in particular?’ Judging from her enthusiasm, she would have liked it to be her that Harry was ‘looking for’.

      ‘I’m here to see Mr Jacobs.’ Now that he was only minutes away from the interview, Harry’s nerves were beginning to get the better of him.

      ‘Ah.’ The girl looked him up and down. ‘You must be Mr Blake, applying for Mr Wright’s old job.’

      ‘Yes,’ Harry answered.

      ‘You’re younger than him.’

      Harry was taken СКАЧАТЬ