Chapter 27 Irene and Sydney

 

Chapter 27

Irene and Sydney.

At six forty five, every weekday evening, Sydney tuned the radio, or the wireless, as he called it, to The Home Service. First of all he had made sure the battery had been charged at Barrett's Record and Music Shop so he could listen to 'The Archers;' the daily serial.

The radio volume was set quite high and everybody in the four cottages could hear it blasting. They knew Dan Archer and Peggy, even though they had no interest in the programme at all.

Irene was sitting in her chair and Sydney almost had his head next to the set.

Upstairs in their spare room, which was but a box room, as Finbar's was next door, was a well made up bed for the boy to sleep on Saturday. There was plenty of time to shop for his Shredded Wheat and Weetabix, but even though it was only Tuesday evening, his breakfast was ready for Sunday morning in their small pantry. They knew he liked his breakfast with hot water, to soften the cereal, and covered in sterilised milk and sugar.

Irene and Sydney ate bacon and eggs for breakfast every day, which they had been doing ever since rationing stopped when they couldn't buy enough for breakfast. They had a friend in Balsall Heath Road and another friend in Ombersley Road, whom they would swap food with and between them they shared their rationing. Doll Cadell in Balsall Heath Road, didn't like eggs at all, so she swapped with Irene and Sydney in exchange for cheese.

Rationing per person in the UK, or one week, was one egg, two ounces each of tea and butter, an ounce of cheese, eight ounces of sugar, four ounces of bacon and four ounces of margarine.

Sydney hated margarine so that went to Doll Cadell.

Their friend in Ombersley Road, Mona Hunter and her husband Ron, were Jewish, and didn't eat bacon so Irene and Sydney had their bacon and Mona and Ron had Irene and Sydney's margarine. Lots of things like that but when rationing stopped Irene and Sydney had a fried breakfast every day and used plenty of butter – best butter they called it.

They had lived alone for eight years since their only son, Ralph, had moved to Berlin upon his marriage to Margo, a German girl he had met when he was in Germany during the war. He brought her home to meet mom and dad but, as they didn't have room at the cottage, they stayed with Mona and Ron Hunter in Ombersley Road, but a German living in a Jewish household didn't quite click. She didn't seem antisemitic and they didn't seem anti German. So the couple went to Berlin and, even though they wrote for a couple of years, they lost touch. All they had was a Christmas card each year: To Mom and dad, with lots of love: Margo and Ralph. Hope to be over this year. And that was on every Christmas card which they kept in a drawer. They didn't talk about Ralph much but they were heartbroken and they looked forward to Finbar staying in Ralph's bed.

But when Saturday night came there was no Finbar.

Irene and Sydney didn't know what to do as they didn't miss him till about nine-o-clock on Saturday evening. They were never sure of the expected time of his arrival and both of them waited up till midnight. They could have gone to the police station in Edward Road, which was a short walk along the main road, but they wouldn't have known what to say.

They were not expecting Carmel and Patrick till about midday or so as they were due in Birmingham on the boat train from Holyhead.

At the top of the lane mister Murdoch was taking his car out and about to turn into Moseley Road when he was stopped by the horse and cart of a rag and bone man.

“Do you know South View Terrace, mister?'

'Yes, it's down the lane there – who do you want?'

'I don't know' he said 'I found this bag.'
'oh?'

'It's for fun boy, or something like that.'

'FUN boy?' said Murdoch.

'Something like that. I found it in my travels and there's Birmanum twelve on it – on the label.'

'Let me see' said Murdoch getting out of his car.

The rag and bone man showed Murdoch Finbar's bag.

'I don't read too well and I found it on the road.'

'When was this?'

'Well I didn't find it. It was passed on to me by a colleague who wanders over there.'

'Where?'
'By the Lickies'

'When was this?'

'Few days ago . . Wednesday, I think – I can see the figure twelve and I know what Birmanum looks like.'

'I see.'

'Somebody said it was around here – South View Terrace, I mean. I was told it was on the ground it was – at the side of the horse road. My colleage knew I come this way - as far as Varna Road, and thereabouts but there's no pickings here – load of hoi polloi round here?'

'hoi polloi?' said Murdoch.

' ''septing for your self, like – I mean I don't mean you, squire.'

Murdoch went to his car and turned off the engine.

'The Lickey Hills?'
'That's what I said.'

Murdoch was puzzled.

'What would you say if I said I know who this belongs to?'

'What would I say? - I don't know.'
'Let me make it worth your while' said Murdoch, putting his hand in his pocket.

'Where at the Lickies?'

'Not far from the bottom of the hill – Rose Hill. I'll be honest with you guvnor, if it were worth anything I'd a kep' it.'

'Here we are' he gave him half a crown.

'Very kind of you, sir – very kind.'
'Okay.'

'I'll be on my way – Finbar, you say?'

'Yes.' said Murdoch.

'I could see the love the kid – Finbar – had for his stuff. He had string in there with knots I didn't know about, and loads of words of poems or songs that I didn't understand and things - and I could see it was a little lad – you can let him have it?'

'I will, sir – thank you very much. I'll tell him a kind man found his bag.'

'Here look at the stuff' he said, opening the bag 'string, look! Loads of it – papers, look! Pictures of plants and mushrooms and such – look! A cowboy.'

He showed Murdoch the picture of Gary Cooper in High Noon.

He fastened the bag up and handed it to Murdoch.

'We'll be off.' he said 'I think the boy would be a kid after my own heart – bits of twigs he had, a ball of string – but no money.'
'You sure?'
'Cross my heart, guvnor, cross my heart.'

'Here' said Murdoch, and gave him another half-crown.

'Good man sir' said the rag and bone man as he grabbed the reins 'Good man - hucha.'

He and horse, headed south along Moseley Road pulling the cart and the rag and bone man.

'Raga bowa – raga bowa' his voice faded into the distance which Murdoch could hear as he went down to Finbar's cottage leaving the car where it was. Sydney was standing at his garden gate.

'Hello, mister Melia - someone found Finbar's bag' he said as he passed Sydney 'Are they back from mass yet?'

'No – that's the trouble' said Sydney 'we don't know where he is.'

'Who?'

'Finbar – he's been away with the scouts - don't know where he is.'

Irene joined them.

'His mom and dad are on their holidays' she said 'and he was supposed to be coming to us last night, but he didn't come.'

'He was away with the boy scouts?' said Murdoch.

'Yes sir – his mom and dad are due back today.' said Irene.

'So Finbar's been missing since yesterday?'

'Yes sir' said Sydney.

'What time are Carmel and Paddy due back?'

'This afternoon.' said Irene.

'Leave it with me' said Murdoch “I'll sort York out.'

He went back up the lane, passed his car and went to Mr. York's house. His mother answered the door.

'Hello Mrs. York – is Alfred in.'

'Yes he is' she said 'Alfred?' she called.

Mr. York came down the stairs.

'Hello' he said 'What can I do for you?'

Chapter 28

New Street Station.