CHAPTER TWELVE
I had spent a week’s holiday with Bill’s father and mother after I had been demobilized.
They lived in a remote village near Anton, some ten miles from Berwick-on-Tweed. The old boy
was getting on for eighty, and Mrs. Yates was only a few years
younger, but they lived alone and managed for themselves,
and Bill thought the world of them.
I decided to use them as a bait to get Bill out of London. I
didn’t like doing it, but I knew they were the only people,
except for Ann and myself, he cared about. They were not on
the telephone and their cottage was a good mile from their
nearest neighbours, something that was always worrying Bill.
“If ever one of them got ill,” he used to say, “I don’t know
how they would get on. But they won’t move. I’ve argued
myself black in the face, but it makes no difference.”
Soon after four o’clock on Saturday afternoon, I
happened to have a telephone call from one of my customers.
Knowing Ann had heard the telephone bell, I used the call to set the ball rolling.
After I had hung up, I raced upstairs to find Ann.
“I’ve just had some pretty bad news,” I said, coming into
the kitchen. “It’s Bill mother. She’s been taken ill. The doctor says Bill must go at once.”
“Oh, Harry! Do you know where Bill is?”
“I haven’t an idea. The doctor didn’t know if he was on
the phone. Bill’s father told him to get in touch with me. I’ve got to find Bill. Tim can hold the fort. Maybe they’ll know where he is over at the sorting-office.”
“Is it bad?”
“It could be. She’s had a fall. Could be serious at her
age.”
I went downstairs and over to the sorting-office where I
found Harris sunning himself in the doorway.
“I’ve got to find Bill,” I said. “Just had news his mother’s taken ill. They want him to go home. Know where he is?”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Harris said, looking startled.
“He’s at his lodgings. He’s on night shift tonight. I expect he’s having a bit of a kip.”
“Will he be able to get time off?”
“Shouldn’t be any trouble about that.”
“Now look, I’m going down to his lodgings right now. I’ll
drive him to the station. There’s a train in an hour I think he can catch. Could you report this for him? He won’t have time to ask for leave himself, and he’ll be easier in mind if he knows you’re taking care of it for him.”
Harris hesitated.
“Well, he should report it himself by rights. He should get permission before he goes.”
“But he’s got to catch that train. Even now he may arrive
too late. This is a matter of life and death. You can’t expect him . . .”
“Okay, okay,” Harris said. “Leave it to me. I’ll fix it.”
“Good man! Then I’ll get off.”
I went back and told Ann what I was going to do, then
got out the truck and drove fast to Bill’s lodgings; a small house off the Fulham Road.
His landlady said he was in his room having a sleep. She
knew me and told me to go on up.
As I climbed the stairs, I wondered if I were going to pull this off. Bill was shrewd, and a difficult man to panic.
I had to stop him from checking my story. I had to get
him on the train without telephoning. Once on the train I knew he couldn’t get back until late Sunday afternoon. By that time the hold-up would be over. I rapped on the door and pushed it open.
Bill was lying on the bed in shirt and trousers, smoking
and reading a paper-backed novel. He gaped at me and sat
up.
“Hello, Harry, this is a surprise.”
“I’ve got some bad news, Bill,” I said, coming into the
room and shutting the door. “It’s your mother. She’s had a bad fall, and they want you to go up right away.”
Alarm jumped into Bill’s eyes as he scrambled off the
bed.
“Is she badly hurt?”
“I do think so: it’s more a question of shock. There’s a
train in forty minutes. You can just make it if you hurry. I’ve got the truck outside, and I’ll run you to the station.”
“I can’t catch that. I’ve got to get permission to go. I’m on
night duty. What’s the next train?”
“You’ve got permission. I fixed all that with Harris.
There’s nothing to worry about. He’s doing all that’s necessary.
Now come on, and stir your stumps. We haven’t much time.”
“This is damned good of you, Harry.” He sat on the bed
and struggled into his shoes. “How did you get mixed up in
this?”
“Your dad told the doctor to phone me. He hoped you
might be across the way.”
“Who’s the doctor? Is it the hospital?”
“No. She’s at home. He did tell me his name, but I can’t
remember it.”
“Mackenzie?”
“It might be. Come on for goodness’ sake.”
He was now putting on his collar and tie.
“I wonder if I should call him first?”
“You haven’t time. I told him you’d be on the five-fifteen.
He said she was dangerously I’ll and she’s asking for you.”
That galvanized him into action. In under three minutes
he was ready. I felt pretty sick deceiving him in this way, but it was for his own good. Nothing else would have got him to chuck up his work at a moment’s notice. We ran downstairs and to the truck.
Fortunately the traffic was fairly light as it was Saturday
afternoon, and we made good time to King’s Cross. Bill
couldn’t hope to reach his home before one o’clock in the
morning, and even if he turned around immediately, he
couldn’t get back to London before nine-thirty. By then he
should be safe.
I bustled him along the platform, not giving him a chance to think, to where the train was waiting.
“Do you want any money?” I asked, taking out two five-
pound notes I had brought with me. “Better take these. Here’s
a corner seat. Hop in here.”
“I can’t say how grateful I am, Harry.” Bill climbed in, his
usually cheerful face worried and anxious. “I wouldn’t like the old lady to go without seeing me.”
“She’ll be all right as soon as she sets eyes on your ugly
mug,” I said, gripping his hand. “Let me know what happens, Bill, and keep your pecker up.”
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