Backstreet Child by Harry Bowling Page B

yard, its cobblestones warmed by the sun, she sat with Danny and his pretty wife Iris on a wooden bench and watched the children running around and squealing happily. Danny was looking worried though, and once or twice he left the yard to seek out Billy.
     
    ‘I’m worried about that bloke,’ he told Iris when he returned for the second time. ‘’E told me ’e was gonna be ’ere fer sure, but there’s no sign of ’im.’
     
    Carrie came out into the yard and looked around. ‘No Billy?’ she asked her brother.
     
    Danny shrugged his shoulders. ‘’E’s missin’ Annie an’ the kids. I bet ’e’s proppin’ the bar up at the Kings Arms,’ he replied, looking at Iris for her sanction to go and look for him.
     
    Iris gave Rachel a wry smile. ‘Yer’d fink the two of ’em were’usband an’ wife the way they worry over each over, wouldn’t yer?’ she remarked.
     
    Danny leaned his back against the wall. ‘Billy can look after’imself,’ he said with feigned indifference. ‘It’s just that when’e’s ’ad a drink too much ’e’s inclined ter get a bit stroppy. I wouldn’t like ’im gettin’ inter trouble. Since that new guvnor’s took over the Kings Arms there’s a few strange faces in there. Some of ’em look a bit evil.’
     
    Iris knew that her husband would be like a cat on hot bricks until Billy Sullivan showed up, especially after promising Annie that he would keep an eye on him. They were like two boys rather than grown men in their forties, she thought. ‘P’raps yer’d better go an’ see if ’e’s all right,’ she said with another wry smile.
     
    Danny acted as though he was making up his mind. ‘Er, yeah, all right. I’d better go,’ he said, getting up as if it was a chore.
     
    He let himself out through the wicket gate into the quiet street. A few women stood at their front doors chatting to neighbours and two small boys were playing marbles in the gutter. Above, the sky was cloudless and a hot sun blazed down on the dusty backstreet. Salmon Lane was a few streets along from Page Street and it took Danny barely five minutes to get to the Kings Arms. It was nearing two o’clock when he pushed open the door of the corner pub and saw the damage. The customers were all at the far end of the bar, standing away from the broken glass and sopping wet floor. The barman and a couple of helpers were busy clearing up the mess.
     
    Danny groaned aloud. ‘What ’appened?’ he asked, dreading the reply.
     
    The barman pointed to the shattered ornamental mirror behind the counter. ‘The dopey git chucked a bar stool at it,’ he growled. ‘Then it turned into a right free-for-all. Terry called the police an’ then ’e copped a bottle on ’is crust. I don’t think ’e was ’urt too bad but ’e’s gone ter Guy’s ter be stitched up. Mind you, it could ’ave bin a lot worse.’
     
    ‘Billy?’ Danny asked, knowing what he was going to hear.
     
    ‘’E’s at Dock’ead nick. ’E’s . . .’
     
    Danny did not wait for the barman to finish. He rushed out of the pub, his heart sinking. ‘What a stupid idiot,’ he groaned to himself. What would Annie say? She’s only been away for less than two weeks and already her husband’s in trouble with the police and most likely facing a jail sentence for assaulting a publican.
     
    At Dockhead he hurried up the steps of the police station and pushed open the swing door. ‘I’ve come to enquire about a Billy Sullivan,’ he said, looking anxiously at the station sergeant.
     
    The officer carried on scribbling in a book for a few moments then he looked up with doleful eyes. ‘Billy Sullivan? Just ’ang on a minute. Fred, ’ave we got a Billy Sullivan ’ere?’
     
    The police constable sitting at the back of the office pointed to a side door. ‘ ’E’s in there wiv the chief inspector.’
     
    The sergeant turned back to Danny. ‘Jus’ take a seat, ’e shouldn’t be too long,’ he said with a wave of his