A Wanton Tale (11 page)

S
ophie flinched as the young man held her arm tightly, she wasn’t sure where the danger lay. Was it with the old woman who was pursuing her or with the man who was gripping her arm?

The woman was getting closer, the piercing shrill of her voice could be heard across the sand. Sophie glanced over her shoulder and saw that the whites of her eyes were blood shot with anger. Jim wasn’t afraid of Betsy, he just wanted to get Sophie out of her reach.

The effort to run on the sand was becoming too much for the woman. Her attire was cumbersome and she was uncomfortably hot. She stopped and shouted with a wheeze, ‘Stop that lad, he is a criminal and he’s stolen my granddaughter, bring her back ‘ere.’ Her knotty finger was pointing accusingly.

Some of the day trippers appeared startled by the commotion but were clearly wary of getting involved. A portly built gentleman tried to block their way, his stance was clumsy allowing Jim to outmanoeuvre him.

‘Where are you going with that girl, young man? Stop now!’ Bawled the man as he lunged towards them.

‘I’m not her granddaughter!’ Shouted Sophie, now panting with the effort of running on the sand. The two youngsters side stepped him and kept running among the crowds of families on the beach, destroying some sandcastles on the way.

As Sophie’s confidence grew, her instincts told her she had made the right choice. She would stay with Jim and kept up with him willingly. She had no idea what danger she was in but felt that she was leaving it behind.

Glancing over her shoulder, again, she saw that the woman had regained the paved promenade. She was talking animatedly with a puny looking man, they appeared to be arguing. Sophie’s thin summer dress made her stand out in the crowd. As the couple turned, she saw the woman point in her direction. Sophie didn’t understand what was happening, ‘Why is she after me and who is she?’

‘Stupid old cow, you let her go, she was in your grasp. I saw you, standing there bawling like a fish wife, rooted to the spot. You did yourself no good at all, just attracted unwanted attention.’ Freddie Hale was furious.

‘I will find ‘er, I know where Jim will take her, I’ll be watching ‘im like a hawk.’ Said Betsy finally, with a wicked gleam in her beady brown eyes.

Their embarrassment was spared by an indifferent crowd, keen to be off on their merry way. Mildly curious onlookers didn’t want to get involved, they were enjoying a family day out.

Betsy thought that the flame haired young ‘un was probably innocent, although she was intrigued by her fashion sense. ‘She’s worth a hundred quid to me and more. Lots more if she is the virgin I think she is, but who is she? ’ Betsy, who usually had the measure of everyone, especially young girls, was unsure.

‘She might be a blowsy anyway!’ She paused pulling out a hip flask of cheap gin from her purse. She guzzled a mouthful. ‘They can run but they can’t hide, a redhead like her will stand out like a sore thumb, you mark my words Freddie Hale, I’ll put me feelers out, I
will
find that girl. That Florrie will lead us right to her especially if she’s with Boyle.’

Sophie and Jim were out of breath and needed to rest. As they left the sands, they leant on the railings, safe in the knowledge that the woman had, obviously, decided to abandon the chase.

‘Are we safe now?’ Asked Sophie.

‘Yes, for the time being but you can’t afford to relax.’

Sophie noticed that he had said
you
and not
we
.

‘Very well.’ Said Sophie. ‘
Why
am I in danger?’

Jim was not surprised to meet Sophie. Larry had explained to him that a girl would come back in time to undo the past. She will bring justice for a great evil. Jim believed in the enigmatic character and knew he was more than an imaginary figure. Sophie will witness many events of Jim’s life. She will always appear as a fourteen year old and after her task is complete she will return to her own time. Jim knew he must help Sophie.

‘Come.’ Said Jim. ‘Let’s walk away from the crowds and I’ll tell you what I know about the couple who were after you. Other than that, I must warn you, there is a lot I do not know. We will be out of the way if we walk up the hill and keep on the move, it will give us time to think.’

As they walked Jim warned her that the villainous pair had hideous intentions.

‘Betsy Hale is the old woman, Freddie is her husband and partner in crime, might I add. Betsy is an aunty. Do you know what that means Sophie?’

Sophie overlooked the fact that Jim knew her name, even though she hadn’t told him. ‘Of course I know what an aunty is but she is not my aunt.’

‘She’s not your aunty as in your family and never will be in any sense of the word.’ Said Jim seriously, ‘An Aunty is a woman who procures young girls for men. Do you know what I mean?’

‘Of course.’ Sophie answered, but she didn’t understand at all.

Jim could see that the naive youngster was hiding her innocence. ‘Sophie, men will pay a lot of money to go with young girls and boys. They can’t be seen to approach girls directly since the law changed fifteen years ago. Betsy acts as a go between and takes the money from the man, keeps most of it and gives some to the poor girl. Sophie felt a shiver down her spine as he continued to explain.

She now understood, or rather, thought she did. She had heard about men paying for sex with women but not with young girls and certainly not boys. For the time being she knew that most of this was beyond her understanding.

‘How are you involved in this?’ Asked Sophie.

Jim didn’t answer.

They walked in silence which gave Sophie time to think. ‘Why was she here? What is the destiny Larry had spoken of?’ No answers came into her head, she was even more confused. She wanted to go home to the house she could see as they entered Vale Park.

Suddenly, it became too much for her. She didn’t know if she could trust Jim or even trust her own judgment. She backed away from him. Although she was never a girl to cry easily, she didn’t belong here and her bright green eyes began to fill with tears. Although her tears were obscuring the wiry figure of the young man before her, she could make out the concern on his face.

‘Sophie, we need to take you away from this while I try and find out what is happening. I know that Larry has brought you here from some date in the future. To try to understand why, is difficult. All I do know is that it will be for a good reason.’

Sophie nodded. Just the mention of Larry’s name was, somehow, comforting. At least they had something in common.

‘I think it’s best that we take you somewhere safe where you can get some decent clothes. It looks like you’re in your underwear.’ Jim tried to smile and hoped to lighten the girl’s mood. ‘Decent?’ thought Sophie with a wry smile, she hadn’t seen a decent garment to her liking all day. He then took off his jacket and offered it to her.

Sophie reluctantly put on his well-worn jacket. She felt scantily clad compared to the other girls and women she had seen. She couldn’t help noticing that Jim’s coat was smelly.

‘We must catch the ferry to take us over the water.’ Asked Jim, ‘Once we are there I will take you to my Aunty Margaret’s house.’ Jim couldn’t help but smile at the girl’s tentative expression. ‘She is a real Aunt, me Ma’s sister.’ He quickly reassured her and added, ‘Me Aunty Margaret is a kind soul.

The fare on the ferry was only a penny and within an hour, they were knocking on the door of a terraced house on George’s Hill. It was a part of Liverpool Sophie didn’t know, other than by reputation, it was a modest area of decent folk. Margaret knew it was Jim by the manner in which he had ran tanned on the highly polished knocker. Three loud raps were always her nephew.

As the door opened Sophie was practically leaning on Jim. She was worn out and was feeling apprehensive.

Jim often paid a visit to his Aunty and sometimes brought her some fish and other fresh produce from the market.

Sophie heard the woman speaking before she even opened the door. She was most surprised to see Jim at the door accompanied by a striking young girl and her shock was obvious. She almost jumped back on her heels, she surmised that he was two timing Florrie.

‘What have you brought me here now Jim? Who is this? Hope you are not bringing any trouble to me door.’ Aunty Margaret was immediately suspicious as to why he had brought a young girl to her home. Despite the forthright edge to her voice she was concerned. ‘This is most unusual.’ She thought.

Jim had never brought a girl with him before, not even Florrie. Margaret had a soft spot for her nephew and if he needed help, he had come to the right place, he was always welcome.

She quickly looked up and down the street, it was a respectable area and none of the neighbours were out.

‘Bring her inside lad.’

Her arms were folded decisively across her plump figure, her inquisitive grey eyes were locked onto his. At the same time she was admiring the colour of Sophie’s hair and was intrigued as to who she might be. Margaret was a widow with no children of her own and was glad of some company. Her adopted niece Jessie, Jim’s sister had got married last year.

‘This is Sophie. She’s very tired Aunty Margaret and she’s in shock.’ Said Jim sheepishly, his bright blue eyes were looking towards the stairs.

‘Hasn’t she got a tongue? She can speak for herself. You don’t look well, dear and look at the way you are dressed. You’re almost naked. You don’t call that a dress, it looks like a butter rag and I can see your drawers. Now then, what is all this about? And I don’t want any tales.’

‘Thank you for having me here.’ Said Sophie as though talking to someone who had invited her for tea. Margaret’s face broke into a smile. She was impressed that she was well mannered too and thought she must be a ‘good’ girl.

‘You’re in good hands with our Jim.’ But Margaret could see that Sophie was clearly upset about something. She glanced over to Jim, who read her expression, his aunt wanted an explanation.

‘I found her in New Brighton. She doesn’t belong here Aunty, she’s from another time, she’s from the future, Larry told me.’

‘Not this again, Jim I said no tales. Since you were young you have talked of your imaginary friend Larry ……’ her eyes rolled to the heavens.

‘He is not imaginary!’ Joined in Sophie, she didn’t mean to sound so abrupt. Jim’s Aunt looked a little shocked but listened as Sophie explained how Larry had coaxed her onto the fairground ride, ahead in time in August 1928.

Margaret continued to stare incredulously at Sophie.

‘Go on Jim.’ She said.

‘Aunty.’ Said Jim seriously. ‘Larry does exist. That’s how Sophie arrived here but I don’t know
why
she is here. All I know is that I must help her, people are counting on her but I don’t know who or why. Can we get her some clothes? A pretty girl like her is attracting too much of the wrong kind of attention. That’s how I met up with her.’

‘I should imagine she does. New Brighton has a bad reputation.’ She folded her arms whilst pursing her lips, ‘I’m not soft, I know what goes on over there, it’s a den of iniquity.’

‘Remember Betsy and Freddie Hale, the people who are after Florrie. They’ve got designs on Sophie now.’

‘I cannot believe they are still getting away with it. Exploiting girls, so much for the change in the law back in 1885. I am surprised they haven’t met their end. I expect they are too well protected after what they did to Alice. Thank goodness you brought her to this end of town. That evil pair won’t find her here, this is Everton and a respectable neighbourhood. I do believe you Jim, your encounters with Larry have helped you before.’

There was a hint of scepticism in her voice at the mention of this mystical figure but at this time it suited her to believe her nephew.

‘Now then, let’s have a nice cup of tea, you will be safe with Jim he is a good lad.’ Said Margaret firmly as she grasped the kettle that was resting on her highly polished black lead range.

Jim was intrigued as to what Sophie’s mission might be and hoped that all would be revealed to him soon.

For a while, they sat quietly, each of them lost in thought, unable to explain why Sophie was with them. An over fed looking ginger cat came into the room and jumped on Sophie’s lap, purring. The animal gave Sophie comfort. She eventually broke the silence, she was fearful and uncomfortable with what she had heard.

‘What does this Betsy want with me?’ Her anxiety was obvious, her hands were shaking and she was biting her bottom lip.

Jim looked at her intensely, ‘I need to start from the very beginning.’ He leant back in his chair as he clasped his hands together. He did this when deep in concentration.

‘I don’t want to shock you Sophie, but I must take you back to a very dark time in our family. Worse than the turmoil we are in right now. I need to tell you about what happened in the past when I was very young, this will help you understand.

‘That woman Betsy has always been a thorn in my side, she is an evil woman, a fiend and she’s destroyed our family.

Jim began his tale. From the time that he was too young to remember he was helped by his aunt’s intimate knowledge of past events.

Jim cast his mind back to his childhood. At this time he had discovered the perils and harsh realities for young people in his neighbourhood. He had been brought up in Circus Street, near town. The area had never been a good place and even worse if your family was large. Jim Boyle was the youngest of seven, all his older siblings were girls.

His father, Charlie, worked on the docks and quite often found himself without work. He would stand in a group of men early in the morning eagerly waiting to be chosen for a day’s back breaking work. Only the fittest and strongest were picked and of course, the ones who were ‘in’ with the boss.

He tried to make enough money for rent and food for his family. He kept his head above water by supplementing his income by theft from the docks. He stole mostly fruit and drink, luxuries in this most squalid of streets. His only son Jim was his favourite. He was an attractive boy with blonde wavy hair and appealing blue eyes. He was good at selling, and had started his trade when he was very young. His winning smile and precocious charm ensured he came back with an empty basket. The shillings jingling in the pocket of his shabby pants were proudly tipped up to his father.