Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection. Josephine Cox

he advised. ‘It’s one of those mysterious things men are supposed to know nothing about.’

      ‘See you in the morning then?’

      ‘You will.’

      ‘Good night then.’

      ‘Good night,’ Jack called after him. ‘And don’t be late!’

      While Jack’s journey home to the top end of Penny Street was a mere ten minutes or so, it took twice that long for Roy to get to Johnson Street.

      By the time he closed the door to his bedsit, it was already going on for seven o’clock.

      A sparsely furnished part of a large Victorian house, his living accommodation consisted of one long, wide room, the bottom of which was curtained off as a bedroom.

      In the bedroom part was a narrow bed, a sturdy if unattractive chest of drawers, which also served as a dressing table, and a chair that, with well-worn, dipped seat and sagging upholstery, had seen better days.

      The rest of the room was furnished with a grubby old sofa, a small table with drop-down leaves and barley-twist legs and, standing proud on top of a tall slim cupboard, a handsome wireless.

      There was also a horsehair-stuffed armchair, from which a multitude of black bristles protruded, and a green rug covering a greater part of the linoleum floor.

      To one side of the room was a makeshift kitchen, consisting of a gas stove and a cupboard. There was a small wooden pantry containing a packet of tea, a half-used bag of sugar, a small uncut loaf and a pat of butter. The hinged drop-down lid served as a worktop. The bathroom, which was situated out on the landing, was shared with four other tenants.

      The flat wasn’t much, but it was his home and, sparse though it was, Roy considered it to be far more welcoming than the one he had shared with his parents. But that was a long time ago. He had always intended to better himself, but as yet he had not encountered the fortune he believed was waiting for him round every corner.

      After washing and shaving, he devoured a cheese sandwich with a mug of tea, then he sat on the chair with his feet up on the table and, eyes closed, listened to the evening music on the wireless.

      He was tired yet excited. He thought of Daisy and he couldn’t sit still, so he put on his coat and departed the building.

      Don Carson lived on the same street, just a few doors away. Roy visited him often, but had not seen him since he met Daisy again. Tonight he could hardly wait to tell him about his new girlfriend.

      After Roy’s three knocks on the front door of Don Carson’s humble abode, Don answered the door.

      Unshaven and wearing only his vest and trousers, he looked as if he’d just got out of bed. ‘Oh, it’s you!’ Running his hand through his tousled hair, he stepped back to let Roy shove past. ‘You’d best come inside,’ he invited wearily.

      Having followed Don along the passage and into the back parlour, Roy threw himself into a chair. ‘What’s up with you?’ He observed how tired the older man looked, and how he was neither shaved nor properly dressed. ‘I’ve never seen yer look such a mess!’

      ‘Well, thanks, that’s all I need!’ Taking a long, noisy sigh, Don explained, ‘I’ve been out all day, looking for work, but soonever I mention I’ve been in gaol, they don’t want to know.’

      ‘Why don’t yer lie to ’em?’

      ‘What’s the use o’ doing that?’ the other man asked. ‘They’d find out sooner or later.’

      ‘Work for yersel’ then.’

      The other man sat down, his sharp eyes trained on Roy. ‘Oh, yeah, doing what?’

      ‘Don’t ask me,’ Roy shrugged. ‘You’ve allus found summat in the past. Rob a bank or summat.’ He laughed at his own suggestion. ‘That’s it,’ he cried jubilantly. ‘Rob a bank, why don’t yer?’

      ‘Don’t be so daft, man!’ Don snapped. ‘I wouldn’t know the first thing about robbing a bank. That’s right out of my league. Besides, the last thing I need is to get thrown back inside. I’ve had enough of gaol to last me a lifetime.’

      ‘D’yer want me to keep my eyes and ears open?’ Roy was eager to make amends. ‘They sometimes take folk on at building sites with no questions asked. I’ll mek a few enquiries if yer like?’

      ‘Thanks all the same, but I don’t fancy working outdoors …’ Don chuckled. ‘Being in the nick seems to have spoiled me. Still, I’m not destitute yet,’ he claimed. ‘I do a bit here and there – buying and selling and such – but it won’t last for ever. And lately it hasn’t brought in the money, so I will need to get permanent work. I know that.’

      Thinking about gaol, Roy asked, ‘Do you still visit Arnold Stratton?’

      ‘Course I do!’ Don answered angrily. ‘I’m not one to abandon a mate in trouble.’

      Ready to change the subject, he regarded Roy with a degree of curiosity. ‘Talking about Hammonds – as we kind of were – you seem to be settling down really well there.’

      ‘Aye, an’ I’m doing all right,’ Roy revealed. ‘I reckon if I stay on the straight and narrow, I might even be up for supervisor afore too long.’

      Don laughed. ‘Bugger me! You really are knuckling down.’ He wagged a finger. ‘There’s got to be a girl involved somewhere,’ he declared with a grin. ‘That’s it! You’ve got tangled up with some girl and gone all broody.’

      Blushing to the roots of his hair, Roy said, ‘All right, don’t get too clever.’ His face creased in a smile. ‘Her name’s Daisy and she’s a good sort.’

      ‘Daisy, eh?’ Don made an expression of approval. ‘And do you intend settling down with this Daisy? Is that the reason for your sudden enthusiasm in working for a living?’

      ‘And what if it is?’ Roy asked sharply.

      The other man apologised. ‘Don’t tek it so serious,’ he said kindly. ‘I were only joshing. Matter o’ fact, I’m interested in a certain woman meself. Smart as a tack and twice as handsome.’ His grin widened. ‘The name’s Helen …’ he laughed again, ‘… or so she says, but I’ve a feeling she’s lying, for whatever reason.’

      ‘What! You mean you don’t know her real name?’

      ‘It’s not her name I’m interested in,’ Don replied with a wink. ‘Besides, it’s not a serious thing … not like you and this Daisy. We’re just having a bit o’ fun, if you know what I mean?’

      From his friend’s manner and the way he was looking at him, Roy sensed there was more. ‘Have I met her?’

      ‘Nope.’

      ‘Am I going to?’

      ‘Not if I can help it, no.’

      Roy began to understand. ‘She’s wed, isn’t she?’

      ‘She hasn’t said, and I’m not asking,’ came the reply. ‘All we want is a good time. Like I said, we’re not looking to settle down. It makes no difference to me one way or the other. She arrives, we play around, and then she goes. And that’s the way I like it.’

      Roy was curious. ‘Can I ask you summat?’

      ‘You might as well. You’ve done nowt else since you got here. So, what else do you want to know?’

      Roy took a deep breath. ‘D’you know a young woman by the name of Amy Atkinson?’ He had been curious ever since Daisy told him that Carson was Amy’s ex-fiancé.

      There was a long, unsettling pause, during which Roy thought he should never have mentioned it, because now the other man was staring at the floor as if he’d gone into some sort of trance.

      Eventually