‘Good lad he was, too. It’s not right, is it?’ He exhaled a wreath of smoke and watched it thoughtfully. ‘Not right at all.’
Bobby felt lightheaded for a moment. She hadn’t expected bad news to be waiting for her in Bradford. All she’d wanted when she came back was to find everything the same as when she’d left: the comfort of her old life and her old friends after a night of drama, just for one day. And now…
She could picture Jem’s face vividly. Honest, boyish, innocent; quick to blush when his older male colleagues made a ribald joke or teased him about girls. He’d been a sweet boy, devoted to his mother and sister. It wasn’t fair. And what had happened to the men in the Wellington hadn’t been fair; or to Billy Wilcox; or to any of the boys and men who wouldn’t be going home. Damn this bloody war! Damn it to hell.
It was a little while until either of them felt inclined to speak again.
‘What are you working on?’ she asked Tony a little shakily after some time had elapsed, anxious to establish normality again.
‘Hmm?’ He glanced at the sheet of paper on his typewriter. ‘Oh. It’s a story I picked up at that show I saw you at.’
‘You’re only just writing up the show? It was weeks ago.’
‘I wrote up my list of animals and all that dull stuff the next day. This is something the Shadwick lass from theMercuryput me on to. I could tell she had something hot under her bonnet when she came rushing back to the reporters’ tent all fluttery and got in the queue for the phone. Turned on the charm for her and she soon spilled. TheMercuryhasn’t run it so I suppose her editor must’ve warned her off – probably worried about a libel case if her evidence isn’t up to scratch – but Don encouraged me to follow it up. I’ve been researching it for weeks.’
‘What is it?’
‘Oh, it’s juicy stuff. It’s not just Kiltford Show either.’ He cast a satisfied look at the story in progress on his typewriter. ‘Illegal meat raffling, at farmers’ markets and shows all over that neck of the Dales. I couldn’t get anyone to give me names but a few of the farmers must be in on it, along with some local racketeers who’ve been running the show. They’ve been rearing and slaughtering pigs on the sly without telling the Ministry of Food. Then, rather than selling the meat on the black market, they raffle it off for ten bob a ticket at the local shows – easier to hide it that way. The Ministry’s going to have their heads if they get caught. Magistrates are coming down hard on unlicensed pig dealing these days.’
‘Big fines?’
‘Hundreds. I’d reckon on a prison sentence for a racket on this scale though.’ He looked pleased with himself. ‘I could make my reputation with this, Bobby. Wish I could pin down some names. Everyone knows it’s going on but no one seems to be talking.’ He looked at her hopefully. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve heard anything? It’s in your patch.’
‘Such as what?’
‘Anyone tried to sell you a raffle ticket for a ham or a side of bacon, anything like that?’
She shrugged. ‘Sorry, Tony, can’t help you.’
A bell had started ringing at the back of Bobby’s brain, but she was too tired to make a connection. Her thoughts were interrupted by Don’s arrival, accompanied by the welcome scent of hot chips.
‘Are those for me?’ she asked, eyeing the packets under his arm hungrily.
‘Some of them.’ He tossed her a newspaper-wrapped packet. ‘Chips and scraps with extra vinegar, the way you like them. I even got some for you, Tony, as a reward for attempting hard work for the first time in your life.’
‘A scholar and a gentleman,’ Tony said as he held up a hand to catch the packet Don threw him.
‘What is this foray of his into actual work, Don?’ Bobby asked, tucking into her chips. She’d missed the ones from the local chip hole. The chips in Settle weren’t quite the same somehow. She’d missed the teasing banter of her old colleagues too.
‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ Don said as he sat down at his desk.
Tony shrugged. ‘Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf. I’ll need to impress any potential wives with my industriousness and earning potential, won’t I?’
Bobby laughed. ‘So that’s it. You’re wife-hunting again.’
‘Well, I’m not getting any younger. Makes you think about your life, turning thirty. Besides, this was too good a lead to ignore.’
Don watched her as she ate her chips. ‘You look all in, Bobby. Were you up all night?’
‘Apart from the half an hour I managed to sleep on the train, yes.’
‘Why on earth did you come all the way over here instead of getting some shut-eye? You could’ve given me your eyewitness report by phone, you know.’
‘I don’t know. I just wanted to be somewhere… familiar. I wanted to be at home.’ She sighed as she nibbled on a chip. ‘This is nice. Like old times.’
Tony smiled. ‘I knew you’d come back to us eventually.’
‘Well, don’t get too used to me. TheCourier’s a nice place to visit but I wouldn’t want to live here.’ She looked at Don. ‘Tony told me about Jem. Why didn’t you say in your last letter?’
