The Runaway Read Online Free PDF Page A

Rayner’s flat,’ Caitlin said. ‘He’ll know just what questions to ask and whether old Thwaite was telling the truth or lying like – like a flat fish.’
    ‘But would he do it?’ Dana asked doubtfully. She did not think Mr Mortimer would dance to any tune but his own, but Caitlin disagreed.
    ‘He’s what they call a property developer,’ she explained. ‘He’s come to Liverpool because he says the Depression is bound to end soon. Right now, he’s searching for cheap, run-down properties which he’ll make good and sell when the Depression’s over. Then he’ll be able to charge two or three times what he paid … he’s very shrewd, Dana. So you see he knows a great deal about small businesses, flats and cheap housing, and if I ask him I’m sure he’ll see Mr Thwaite for us.’
    ‘Well, there’s no harm in asking,’ Dana said, still doubtfully, but she was beginning to believe that her friend was right; if this strange, dark-avised man wanted to smooth their path she was sure he could do so. But she thought he would have to be watched. His expression gave nothing away, and though his eyes showed admiration when they rested on Caitlin, she felt he would be a bad person to cross. Already she could see that her friend would be putty in his hands.
    When the dance ended Caitlin explained what they needed from him, and he agreed to help at once.
    ‘I’ll make an appointment to see the landlord in the course of the next few days,’ he said. ‘As soon as I’ve got the information you want I’ll be in touch.’
    The girls thanked him, Caitlin more effusively than Dana, and they parted. As they undressed for bed, Caitlin leaned across and nudged her friend. ‘Our days at the YW are numbered,’ she whispered jubilantly. ‘Oh, I’m sure we’re going to be renting that flat in no time!’
    Polly had formed the habit of trying to leave the Willows at the same time as Dana and Caitlin, for the two girls fascinated her. She loved their voices, which had only the slightest trace of an Irish accent, she thought Caitlin the most beautiful girl she had ever seen and Dana was undoubtedly both clever and kind. When they were working near each other Dana always included her in any conversation, and if the boys were rude Dana could twist their remarks so that it was they who seemed foolish. It never occurred to Polly, when she did her best to stand or sit near the two Irish girls, that she was eavesdropping; indeed, she did not know the meaningof the word. If people wanted to exchange secrets they would whisper them, she thought, but Caitlin in particular had a very clear and carrying voice, which was how Polly had come to learn that the girls were off to the Grafton that evening. Intrigued, she gathered that they had found themselves a feller, one with enough money and influence to interfere on their behalf over that dirty little butcher’s shop in which they seemed so strangely interested, and they were going to talk to him about it that very night. Unable to resist the chance to find out more, she hung around outside the Grafton for a good fifteen minutes during the first interval, trying to distinguish the two girls in the crowd and taking a good deal of cheek from nasty girls who suggested ‘she were tryin’ to pick up a feller’ and from rude boys saying the same thing, though less politely. Disheartened, she was just beginning to walk towards the nearest tram stop when she saw them coming towards her. Caitlin was hanging on the arm of a short, curly-headed man whilst Dana, looking embarrassed, brought up the rear.
    Polly had a good long look at the fellow. He was dark-haired and dark-skinned, with what she thought of as a foreign look about him; a dangerous look. I wouldn’t trust him any further than I could throw him, Polly thought. He’s a real smoothie – just the sort of fellow mams tell their daughters to avoid. And he’s old enough to be Caitlin’s father. Wharrever are they thinking of?
    Polly