Someone tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Mr Devlin?’
He turned to face a stocky woman with tightly permed blonde hair. Her short-sleeved blouse revealed muscular forearms and the cut of her jaw made it clear that she stood for no messing. She was weighing him up as though she’d been asked to give odds on how long he would survive in a fight with one of her regulars.
‘That’s me. And you are Shirley Titchard?’
A brisk nod. ‘Come through.’
As she led him towards the security door which led from the public area, her path was blocked by a man with beery breath who had seized a teenage lad in denim by the throat. Without hesitating, she gripped the man’s wrist and forced him to face her.
‘Not here. If you’ve got a score to settle, do it somewhere else.’
The man gave her a baleful glance but did not argue. Instead he shook his fist at the youth and said, ‘Next time, pal, next time…’
As she unlocked the door to the back part of the shop, she said to Harry, ‘You need to show people who’s in charge. Otherwise they take liberties.’
‘You have much trouble?’
‘Nothing I can’t handle. An hour ago, a kid collapsed in the toilet. He’d been sniffing glue in there, the little bastard. His mates were doped up to the eyeballs and pissing themselves with laughter. I had to get things sorted sharpish. He could easily have died.’
‘Jesus.’
She gave him a look of Thatcheresque severity. ‘It would have been no loss, but I can’t afford an interruption to business. My late husband built this chain up. I reckon I owe it to him to keep it going.’
They were standing behind a counter girl who was arguing with a punter who had not filled out his slip in the approved manner. Shirley Titchard shook her head and said, ‘Let’s talk in the kitchen. It’s the only spot in here where we’ll be able to make ourselves heard once the next race starts.’
She took him into a cubbyhole which, although equipped with a grimy sink and the wherewithal for making tea and coffee, was flattered by the name of kitchen. When she shut the door, the noise from outside was muffled but still audible. He wedged himself between the draining board and the fire exit at the rear while she stood with her back to the way in.
‘Well now, Mr Devlin. What is it you want to know about my old friend Carole Jeffries?’
There was a derisive note in her voice that he found difficult to interpret. He said, ‘As I said on the phone, a question has come up about whether the man who was jailed for killing her really did it.’
‘Sounds a long shot to me. He confessed, didn’t he?’
‘Not everyone who confesses is guilty. Anyway, thanks for talking to me. I realise it’s hard to look back so far in time.’
The blonde perm shook decisively. ‘It’s as if it was yesterday. I tell you, Mr Devlin, I remember Carole better than the first feller I married.’
He grinned. ‘You were very close with her?’
‘She fascinated me,’ said Shirley Titchard simply. ‘All the people I’d ever known before were ordinary, not glamorous like Carole’s folk. My dad had a newsagent’s just off Aigburth Road, my mum helped behind the counter and we lived over the shop. Carole’s father was a celebrity, his name kept appearing in the press and on TV. Her mother was a formidable lady, just as clever as Guy, and strong-minded with it. I met them a couple of times when they came to the shop to see how she was settling in. They lived in a mansion opposite the Park.’
‘Did you feel they looked down on you?’
‘No, they weren’t snobs, quite the opposite. Guy was crazy about Carole but he would never have sent her to a private school. She went to the same place as me and give her credit, she was always one of us, as often in trouble as anyone else. More often, if the truth be told.’
‘You both left school at the same time?’
‘That’s right. For me, it was the obvious thing to do. I wanted to make my own way in the world and besides, I never passed an exam in my life. Carole was different, she was much brighter than me, even if she often didn’t show it. The teachers said she was lazy and I suppose they were right. When I found a job at Benny Frederick’s, Carole decided she would do the same. I remember our headmistress trying to talk her out of it, saying how disappointed her parents would be. Carole put her right on that score. “All my dad wants is for me to be happy,” she said — and she was right. Even though her mother was livid, he didn’t make a fuss at all. She could twist him round her little finger.’
‘You enjoyed the work?’
‘Took to it like a duck to water. I’d been brought up in a shop, and although I didn’t want to stay at the beck and call of my mum and dad, I thought Benny’s was great. Carole did too. She was crazy about the atmosphere and loved spotting the big names who used to come and go. Liverpool in the sixties was the place to be, Mr Devlin. So much kept happening.’
‘Benny was a good boss?’
‘Lovely feller, one of the few really sweet men I’ve ever met and I’ve met a lot of men in my time. He was always decent to me.’
‘You knew he was gay?’
‘I had eyes,’ she said drily. ‘He was always so pally with the young lads who used to hang around his shop. Though he had to be careful. Gay sex was a crime in those days, you know. And anyway, he wasn’t above taking a fancy to us girls, as well.’
‘Is that so?’
‘He used to flirt with me all the time, though we never took it any further. But every now and then he’d introduce us to a woman visitor and say she was his girlfriend. He’s always had an eye for a pretty face and a neat bum, has Benny, boy or girl, it’s never seemed to matter to him. And he certainly took a shine to Carole once she arrived.’
‘And how did she take to him?’
‘Oh, she played up to him. She loved being in that shop, having the chance to meet the local celebrities.’
‘Was that how she met Ray Brill?’
Her face darkened. ‘Yes, as a matter of fact it was. But what you won’t know is that I met him first. I’d already come across Ian, the quiet one, he was an old pal of Benny’s and often called at the shop. A nice enough lad, but not really my type. The minute I saw Ray, I fell for him. I thought he made James Dean seem like the boy next door. He was good-looking, successful, and he seemed to fancy me.’
As Harry tried to regroup his thoughts, a ragged cheer came up from the shop. ‘The favourite’s won,’ she said with a grim smile.
‘Look, I didn’t know this. You say you started going out with Ray Brill yourself?’
Shirley Titchard folded her arms, as if challenging him to disbelieve her. ‘I knew he had other girls, but that didn’t bother me. Ray had appeared on Top of The Pops and Ready, Steady, Go! He was a star and I was happy just to be with him.’
‘Until you found out that he was seeing Carole?’
Pursing her lips at the recollection, she said, ‘Yes, it hurt me badly, though I should have realised what would happen. I was so much in love with him that of course I wanted him to meet my best friend. I introduced them one night at the Cavern. I was so sodding naive in those days. Carole was the prettiest girl in the place and she knew it. Ray took a shine to her from the first and I was glad, because I wanted the two of them to like each other. And they did, worse luck, they did. Ray started coming to the shop and I was flattered. I didn’t twig that he was keener to see Carole than me.’