Chapter Two – Albert Hargreaves and His Little Nest Egg

Albert was fifty-nine years old and lived alone in a modest terraced house not far from Hexthorpe Road. He had spent most of his working life in railway employment, turning up regularly, doing his job and putting away a little money whenever circumstances allowed. His wife had died several years earlier, and his children, both grown up, had established homes of their own elsewhere in the Doncaster district.

He was not a wealthy man, but he was considerably more comfortable than many of his neighbours. He had no mortgage, kept his house in reasonable order and had accumulated savings through years of careful living. His money was deposited in a building society, with a smaller amount kept in the house for emergencies. He had always intended to use it to enjoy a quieter retirement, perhaps take a holiday and eventually make some improvements to his home.

Albert was not particularly sociable, and since his wife's death he had become increasingly accustomed to his own company. He would occasionally visit a local public house, have a couple of drinks and return home early. He was a decent, rather reserved man who had never been particularly successful with women, and he found the attention of a younger woman both flattering and confusing.

Coal Shovel noticed him one evening when she was sitting in the public house with a cigarette and a half-finished drink. She had seen him before, but on this particular occasion she decided to make his acquaintance. She approached his table, asked whether the seat was occupied and began talking as though they had known one another for years. Albert was initially rather uncomfortable, but she was persistent, and within half an hour she had discovered that he lived alone, had worked at the railway for many years and had lost his wife.

She listened with apparent sympathy when he spoke about his circumstances, telling him that he must find the evenings terribly lonely and that it was a shame nobody looked after him properly. Albert, who had become rather isolated, appreciated the conversation. She laughed at his jokes, complimented his appearance and made him feel that somebody was genuinely interested in his company.

Over the following weeks, she began appearing wherever she thought she might encounter him. Sometimes she would join him for a drink, sometimes she would call at his house and occasionally she would arrange to meet him in town. Her behaviour became increasingly affectionate, and Albert gradually began to believe that she had developed a genuine attachment to him.

The neighbours noticed, of course. Nothing happened in Hexthorpe without somebody noticing, and the sight of a woman twenty-two years old spending time with a man approaching sixty was certain to attract attention. Some thought it was merely an unlikely friendship, while others suspected that Coal Shovel had discovered a useful source of money.

Mrs Dawson, who lived along the same row as Albert, was particularly suspicious.

One afternoon she saw Coal Shovel leaving his house, adjusting her coat and smiling to herself. She watched her walk down the street before going inside to speak to her husband.

"There's something going on with that Hargreaves," she said. "That girl's got her claws into him, and I wouldn't trust her with a penny."

Her husband told her not to interfere, but Mrs Dawson had seen enough of Coal Shovel to know that her interest in Albert was unlikely to be entirely romantic.

Meanwhile, Albert was becoming increasingly attached to his new companion. He began buying her little presents, paying for meals and giving her money when she complained about difficulties at home. Coal Shovel accepted everything with considerable enthusiasm, always managing to express gratitude while leaving him with the impression that he was doing something wonderfully generous.

Eventually, she began asking about his savings. She presented the question as ordinary conversation, explaining that she was simply interested in how he had managed to put money aside over so many years. Albert, who had always been proud of his careful habits, told her about his building society account and the money he had accumulated.

Coal Shovel listened very carefully.

For the first time, she realised that Albert might be worth considerably more to her than a few drinks and occasional presents.