I Met Him at The Candy Store by Angela Hurrell
10 June 2021 { Historical Fiction }
The bell jingled loudly, and another customer came in. On the left there was a rack of newspapers and a wooden glass fronted cupboard, containing all the tobacco and cigars at the correct temperature and humidity. Behind the back counter was a display of pipes and fancy lighters, as well as cigarettes, cheap lighters, matches and colourful tapers. Down the right-hand side, from floor to ceiling, were bottles of sweets; red strawberry boot laces, bright yellow lemon sherbets, cochineal pink shrimps, blue flying saucers, orange centred fried eggs, purple gobstoppers and green chocolate limes. The sweets were bought by weight, you could ask for your own mix or you could buy ready-made bags we had prepared. These were on the shelf with the boxes of chocolates, chocolate brazil's and ginger and turkish delight.
It was my first job after leaving school. It wasn't very well paid, but at least most people who came in were in a good mood. I mean, basically we were selling treats. The most depressing query I ever had was for sharp tasting sweets, for a customer’s mother who was on chemo and had been told it would help with the metallic taste in her mouth. Three of us worked in the little shop. There was little room and we did get queues, especially after school, kids walking home and Fridays, people buying treats for their family with their pay. We had quite a bit of banter with the regulars.
The first time ‘He’ came in, he asked for a quarter of chocolate eclairs for his mum, a quarter of Liquorice Allsorts for his dad and a packet of Marlboro, for himself I presume, he didn't say. He was handsome. He had blond hair in a spiky style reminiscent of Sting, who I had a crush on, and startling blue eyes. He was older than me I guessed. After that, he came in every Friday and he always made sure I served him. He made me laugh and it started to be the highlight of my week. Bill noticed and teased me about it, but Charlie said, ‘Leave the girl alone’. They said they didn't know him, so he couldn't be local, he must just work somewhere around here.
One Friday I was stood outside the shop on my break, drinking a can of lemonade. It was a lovely day and it was just before the bank holiday. Two hands touched my waist from behind and I jumped out my skin.
‘Sorry!’ my Sting lookalike said, with an amused smile around his lips.
‘That’s okay. I was just miles away,’ I said recovering my poise.
‘I suppose I should introduce myself,’ he said and laughed, ‘I’m Jim.’
‘Hi Jim. I'm Katherine.’
‘I know he said,’ smiling, ‘I picked that up in the shop, or at least they normally call you Kath.’
I laughed then.
‘What are you doing this weekend?’ he said, ‘because I'm planning to go to this demo.’
‘Oh, so am I!’
‘Do you want to meet up and go together?’
With my heart beating a million miles an hour. I tried to be nonchalant.
‘Sure, why not.’
‘Meet you at The Cross at 10:45? I’ll buy you a coffee.’
---
‘May?’
‘Mmm’
‘I've met someone.’
I lay with my back to May but with a secret smile on my lips. May sat up in bed.
‘Come on, spill the beans.’
We've shared a bedroom for years now because there isn’t room for us to have separate bedrooms. Tony our brother has the box room. It’s a bit cramped, but we’re used to it. May is my eldest sister by three years, and she has been an activist for a couple of years. She was one of the organisers for the Anti-Nazi march on Saturday. She was going steady with one of the other organisers, Wayne. I sat up and she held up her covers and beckoned me over. I crept into her bed beside her.
‘Well, his name is Jim, and he came into the shop a few weeks ago. And he's been coming in every Friday since. He always makes sure he gets served by me. If I'm busy he says he hasn't decided what he wants and browses until I'm free. He always chats while I'm serving him, and he makes me laugh. He's gorgeous May!’
‘What's he look like?’
‘He’s slim, he looks strong and he’s quite a bit taller than me. He has blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes.’
I didn't say that I thought he was older than me.
‘And what does he do?’
‘I don't know. We're sort of going on our first date on Saturday. He said he was going to the march, and said, ‘let's meet for a coffee and go together’ when he heard I was going too. It's probably nothing. He's probably just being friendly.’
May gave me a tight hug,
‘Ooh, how exciting. I can't wait to meet him. I can tell you really like him.’
On Saturdays, I don’t work and Bill and Charlie have cover, a young guy still at my old school. May left early to meet Wayne and the other organisers. The police had told them they couldn't guarantee their safety if the National Front turned up, which they threatened to do. I changed my mind a dozen times about what to wear. In the end, I settled on my jeans and a white t-shirt. I also took my tote bag, decorated with badges of my favourite bands and causes. I got the number nine bus into town and met Jim at The Cross. As I walked up to him, we were both grinning at each other. When I got close enough, he grabbed my hand, and it was weirdly nice, something that hadn't happened since I was small and it was Mum or Dad's hand keeping me safe.
‘Come on, let's get that coffee.’
He led me into the indoor market and towards Brown’s cafe.
‘My sister works there.’
I pointed to the jean shop next door with adverts plastered all over the windows for Levi’s, Lee and Falmer’s jeans
‘Does she? I bought a pair in there a few weeks ago. She might have served me!’
‘You were ripped off then!’
We both had a coffee which came with a little biscuit on the side. We sat opposite each other at a tiny table for two. I tried very hard not to touch his knees, which seemed to be too close to mine.
‘So, you've got a sister then?’
‘Yes, May and a younger brother Tony.’
‘How old are they?’
‘May is 21 and Tony will be 14 next week. What about you?’
Jim's face went contemplative.
‘I've got one brother, Tom. He runs a pub in Cornwall. We aren't close. He's a lot older than me. He's my stepbrother, from my dad's first marriage.’
‘I'm sorry.’
‘That’s ok,’ and his sad expression lit up in a smile again.
‘So, isn't your sister marching today?’
‘Oh yeah, she will be, she's one of the organisers, her and her boyfriend Wayne, they've been working on it for months.’
‘Oh really, that's great, I'd love to meet them.’
‘I'm sure we’ll bump into them. May will be keeping an eye out for me. She always worries about me. In fact, we should get going.’
As we left the cafe. Jim caught my hand again. When we got to the square, people were gathering, but I could see May on the steps by the memorial. I led Jim through people to the side of the steps.
‘May!’
May turned and signalled over for us to wait a minute. After she finished talking, she came over.
‘Hi, you must be Jim? Nice to meet you. I'm a bit busy but you make sure you look after my little sister.’
‘Sure will.’
The square was filling up. People were carrying placards and banners with slogans displayed on them: ‘Anti-Nazi League’, ‘Against the National Front’, ‘Stop the Nazis’ and ‘No Immigration Controls’. There were trestle tables manned by the Anti-Nazi League, Socialist Worker and various trade unions with leaflets, badges, and petitions to sign. There were some food carts, and someone had set up some speakers and was playing music.
As it got to 1 o’clock the music was turned off and the speakers started to rally everyone ready to march. They started by asking everyone to be peaceful, that the police would do their best to contain the National Front march threatened in response to this one, if we kept to our agreed route. They said to ignore any attempts by the fascists to cause trouble. They described the route that we were taking and asked us all to stick together and be respectful to pedestrians. Then there was a rousing speech and a huge roar as everyone started to chant.
‘What do we want? Nazis out! When do we want it? Now’
We started to file out of the square and down the High St. There were a few heckles but in the main there was curiosity or smiles on people’s faces.
Everyone on the march was so friendly and it was a real buzz. At one point the joy of being with so many people who feel the same about fairness, humanity and equality was so much that we turned to each other spontaneously and kissed. Then I realised what I was doing, and Jim laughed and kissed me again.
At the end of the March Jim said:
‘Let’s find May and congratulate her for organising such a great protest.’
---
We'd been going out for a few months and were more involved with May’s group. Jim was friends with everyone and was so positive. He was always offering to help with organisation and had a friend who was sympathetic to the cause and would print stuff off free of charge.
We were out in the pub because the group had called a special meeting. A few demonstrations had gone wrong. Just little things, but it felt like the police were always one step ahead of us. Last weekend when we planned on blocking a route with an old car, they stopped it. There was some suspicion of Jim because he was a passenger in the car and had left the window open allowing them to get in. He said it was a mistake and most people didn’t think that it could possibly have been intentional. There was much heated discussion about the possibility of a leak, and it was decided to take a break to cool tempers. People wandered off to the bar, I got up to go to the toilet and Jim said he would go outside for a fag break.
I wasn’t long as thankfully I was at the head of the queue. I decided to go out and join Jim. He wasn’t right outside by the door, so I went round the corner. I saw Jim leaning over May with his hand on the wall above her. I couldn't see his face, but I could see May gazing up at him and then he leant down to kiss her. I turned away and I walked out to the street and got the bus home. My eyes were smarting. I was angry and heartbroken. Betrayed by the two people I loved most in the world. I knew they were good friends, but not this.
As I came through the door, Mum asked me why I was on my own. Where was May? I ignored her and ran upstairs to my room. I couldn't avoid May, but I could pretend to be asleep when she came in and get up before she woke up. I heard May arrive and Mum and her having an argument. Mum was demanding to know why May and Wayne had not brought me home and had let me travel home on the bus alone. As May came into our room she whispered 'Sorry' but I didn't reply.
---
Not long after this, I found myself a room and I moved out. I visited Mum and Dad when I knew May was on marches or at work. May and Jim moved in together and had a baby, but he never married her. Then one day, he just disappeared off the face of the earth. Years later May asked me to meet her in Brown’s.
‘Hi Kath.’
‘Hi May.’
‘What would you like?’
‘Coffee please.’
May came back with the drinks. Coffee with a little biscuit on the side. I felt a pain like a kick in the stomach as I remembered my very first date.
‘Did you hear about Mark Stone on the news?’ she said.
I stared at her. I had expected an apology not a current affairs briefing.
‘It doesn’t ring a bell. I don’t tend to do the news, it’s too depressing and anyway I’m too busy.’
‘He was exposed as an undercover policeman who was infiltrating activist groups. He targeted women to get into the groups. A bit like Mati Hari you know?’
I looked at her.
‘Well it seems there has been a section of the police doing this from the 60s and, well, Jim was one of them.’
I shook my head in disbelief.
‘I’m sorry Kath but I contacted the victim support group and Jim’s been identified. Wayne was always suspicious of him, but I couldn’t see it. We fell out about it and unfortunately that pushed me towards Jim more. He had already started turning up all the time when you weren’t there. He was always so kind and couldn’t do enough for me. Anyway, I should have noticed the warning signs. I never met any of his family even though he often said he had to look after his dad who was an invalid.
‘Well, he did say he wasn’t close to his stepbrother.’
‘Once after we made plans to spend Christmas with Mum and Dad, he let me down. He had said he would cook dinner on Christmas day, but on Christmas Eve he said he couldn’t stay or spend Christmas with us because he had to look after his dad. When I calmed down, I rang his dad’s phone that Jim had given to me for emergencies, but the man on the end of the line said he wasn’t there. We made up as always, but he continued to let me down. He often didn’t turn up for appointments. Mum ended up going to scans with me and even to register the baby! But I always made excuses for him.’
May paused.
‘After he walked out, I was worried sick. He left me a note saying he couldn’t take it anymore, he had to leave and not to look for him. I was worried that he was secretly in debt or had a terminal illness or that he might take his life. I just wanted him back. I went to the police, but the police told me that if they went looking for every man who left his woman, they wouldn’t have time to do anything else. So, I searched high and low for him but never found any information. It was like he never existed.’
May said when she read the news article it seemed so similar that she contacted the victim support group. They had confirmed we were just two of the many women exploited by Jim and the wider police operation to undermine activism. Jim didn't really exist; he was given the identity of a dead child by the police, and he went undercover. He had infiltrated several groups. He had a family that he was probably with whenever he wasn’t with us. We were his ‘work’. He intentionally targeted me to get to her and disrupt an extremely successful group of activists campaigning to get rid of racism and discrimination in society. We were both pawns in their game.
I’m a proud Aunt now. Alice is lovely and May and I are making up for lost time. We were always close and our past is one more thing we have in common. We both hope to testify at the inquiry that is being set up and help all the victims get justice.
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