Daughters of the Mersey (39 page)

Nick cleared his throat. ‘She’d be worried about her mother and brother, wouldn’t she? Leonie wasn’t hurt?’

‘No, she stayed with us last night. She was in our shelter and Milo was out fire-watching, so neither were anywhere near at the time of the raid. They’re fine except that Leonie’s worried stiff about Amy. She’s left Wales but she hasn’t come home and nobody knows where she is.’

‘What can I do to help?’ he asked.

‘Nothing. Elaine and I think we should stay here tonight to give Leonie some support.’

‘Of course.’

‘We’ll come tomorrow, if Amy’s all right. The police have her classed as a missing person and hopefully are making inquiries.’

‘If you have news of her you’ll let me know?’

‘Yes, of course. I tried to phone you earlier. Have you been out?’

‘I left work early. Heather – you know.’

‘Yes, sorry about her.’

Nick collapsed back on his armchair. He ought to eat but he was no longer hungry. In fact he felt sick. He hoped the fish would keep until tomorrow. But poor Leonie, he wished he was there to comfort her.

A little later he got up to make himself some tea and had another thought. He rang Tom.

‘What time was it when Elaine fed the hens? Should you go down to take another look before you go to bed, in case—’

‘Elaine thinks Leonie won’t go to bed unless we do.’

‘When you’ve been, will you ring me
again to let me know?’

‘If that’s what you want.’

‘It is, I’m her father, damn it. I don’t care how late it is.’

‘All right, Nick.’

He tried to read, he tried to listen to the wireless, but he could think only of Amy lost in all those miles between Wales and Merseyside. The wait until Tom rang again seemed endless.

‘Amy isn’t there, Nick. Leonie couldn’t settle without a last look round so I took her with me, but here was no sign of the child.’

‘There must be something we can do.’ He felt agonised.

‘Go to bed, Nick. Milo is asleep in our Anderson shelter and Elaine and Leonie are just going down – and, oh heavens, there’s another raid beginning now as I speak.’

Nick heard the air-raid warning through the phone. His legs felt suddenly weak. Amy could be in real danger and even if she wasn’t, she’d be alone and petrified. His heart went out to her.

‘There’s nothing more any of us can do but wait. Perhaps by morning . . .’

Amy looked round the empty railway carriage as it gathered speed and she got her breath back. She was very worried about her home being bombed and losing its roof and terrified about what could have happened to Mum and Milo. She’d been shocked when Pat had told her but now she began to panic.

The pounding of the engine and the sight of fields flashing past the window seemed very alien as she’d rarely been on a train before. It drove home that she’d run away from Auntie Bessie and Uncle Jack and
although she’d caught the train to Birkenhead, she wasn’t at all sure she’d ever get there.

She’d been told to change trains three times but she wasn’t at all clear in her mind how this was to be done. She got out her ticket to study it but there was no advice on that. She sank back in the velvet cushions, scared and shivering and wishing she’d stayed where she was, where everything was familiar and she’d felt safe.

Then as the train drew up in a country station and stopped opposite a uniformed porter she managed to get the window down and call out that she was worried about where she must change trains.

‘Everybody must change at the junction,’ he said. ‘That’s next stop. This train goes back.’

Amy sank back in her seat, relieved to have learned that but still scared about what she was doing.

‘All change,’ she heard the porters calling at the next station and got out to ask about the new train she must board.

She had to go to a different platform for the Oswestry train but though sick with foreboding, she managed that too. This time three ladies got into the carriage with her. Amy looked out of the window knowing she must not miss the station where she had to make the next change but was fearful she might. One of the elderly ladies started to talk to her and Amy was very relieved to hear that Oswestry was still an hour or so away and that she was going there too.

‘I’ll tell you when you have to get off,’ she told her before she closed her eyes and settled back for a nap.

Amy sat back too and wished she had something to read. She was hungry and would have liked something to eat too. Gradually the train filled
up with passengers. When the old lady told her that Oswestry would be the next station, Amy buttoned up her coat in readiness. ‘Will you be met here?’ the woman asked.

‘No, I’m just changing trains to go to Birkenhead.’

‘Then you need to catch the Gobowen train and change again there. It’ll be waiting in the station. I live here so I know about the local trains. It’ll only take ten or fifteen minutes and shunts backwards and forwards.’

Amy was full of gratitude as she was put on the train. ‘You’ll have no trouble knowing where to get off,’ she was told, ‘because everybody will.’

This was a different sort of train, it was full and the passengers were sitting in long rows instead of in carriages. When it pulled up in Gobowen, they all surged out and the porters were shouting directions to catch onward trains.

She felt better when she boarded the train going into Birkenhead Woodside. She knew where that was. In fact, she thought the line went through Rock Ferry Station and that was nearer home than going to Woodside. If it stopped there, she’d get out and know exactly where she was because Mum and June took her that way when they caught the underground into Liverpool.

She sat by the window and watched carefully as the small stations flew by. It had been getting dark for some time and now night was upon them and it wasn’t always possible to read the names of the stations unless the train stopped. The lights were dimmed everywhere and Amy was not used to the blackout. In the country, blackout was quite different because there was no man-made light anywhere.

With relief, she began
to recognise the names of the stations and knew she was right, this was the line that went through Rock Ferry. Her fear now was that it might not stop, but yes, she could feel it slowing. It was going to stop.

She got out and followed other passengers to the exit. The air felt heavy and smelled of soot and of fire. She’d travelled this way several times with Mum and so found the bus stop without difficulty. A bus drew up in front of her within moments.

It was packed and she had to stand but she didn’t mind, she was filled with exultation. She’d managed it! She’d soon be with her family again, and wouldn’t they be surprised to see her?

She got off the bus at the stop in New Chester Road which was only a hundred yards from her mother’s shop. She couldn’t remember ever being out on a night as dark as this. Always before there’d been lights streaming out from the shops and other buildings, now there were no street lamps and even the traffic was driving on dimmed headlights. But the lie of the land was reassuringly familiar. The first thing she did was to run along to the front door of the shop. So far as she could see it hadn’t changed and that was reassuring too.

It looked deserted, but at this time of night it would be. She knew there was a doorbell that rang upstairs in the flat. It was fixed unobtrusively on the door frame up in the left-hand corner. Amy reached up and pressed it hard. She heard it ring but there was no response. She rang it again, keeping her finger on it for longer, but again there was no response.

In normal circumstances, that was what she’d expect. They would all be at home. Perhaps Pat was wrong. Perhaps the damage wasn’t all that bad. The thing to do now was to go and see. She felt she was on the last lap of the journey
and would soon find out what had happened to her family.

She ran but had only gone a few yards when the screaming wail of the air-raid siren scared the living daylights out of her and made her clutch at somebody’s front gate.

The sound died away and nothing seemed to have changed. She’d never heard it before, they didn’t have such things in the country. She looked up nervously and could see silvery barrage balloons bobbing over her head. She went on again more slowly but her heart was hammering away. She wanted her mum.

The fact that the bombers had blown the roof off her house last night didn’t mean they wouldn’t come again tonight. She should have known that. Pat and her family had gone away at four o’clock so they wouldn’t have to spend another night here. Everybody was terrified of the German bombers.

She started to run again and fear put wings on her feet. At last she came to her own back gate and its familiarity made her feel safer until she turned down the garden path and felt the glass splinter beneath her shoes. She looked up and saw the bare gable wall of her home standing up stark against the sky and the roof sagging down into the living room and entirely missing over the hall.

She was shaking with shock. Pat had been right! ‘Mum,’ she called. ‘Mummy, where are you?’ She wiped the tears from her face with her hands. ‘Mum? Mum?’ She’d never wanted her more. She shouldn’t have come. Mum and Milo had told her it wouldn’t be safe for her. After all, the bombs had killed Pa. They could kill her.

She couldn’t hold back the sharp intake of breath when she saw the
devastation of the bedroom wing. What was she to do now? She walked round to the front garden where the destruction seemed worse. In the distance she heard the crump crump of falling bombs, and saw yellow flames take hold on the Liverpool bank, flutter and grow, dancing ever higher.

She turned and ran back through the gardens to Pat’s house because Pat had said Alison and her father would be coming back. She hammered on their back door, wanting their company more than she had ever wanted it before, but nobody came. Slowly, she went back to her own garden. She heard the gurgle of a hen as she neared the henhouse shed so she opened the door.

Polly cackled and fluttered down from her perch and here was Hetty with her chicks. They were like old friends though she could barely make them out in the dark. The very smell of the henhouse was comforting. They had fresh water, so somebody was looking after them. Milo and Mum were surely not far away. They would come tomorrow to feed them. Carefully, she closed the door again and looked about her.

Milo’s summer house seemed untouched. She let herself in, feeling too tired to think. June was living at the hospital and that was miles away. Where would Mum go if she couldn’t live here? Auntie Elaine’s house perhaps but that was a long way away too. Milo had lots of friends but she hardly knew them.

A shaft of silvery moonlight shining through the window showed up a heap of pillows and blankets in the corner of the shed and she sensed that Milo had been here recently. She pulled them into the shadows under the wooden workbench than ran under the window. It felt safer and more private here. Although
she felt very, very hungry, she was totally exhausted and needed sleep more than food.

She made herself as comfortable as she could, pulling the blankets over her head, and curled up to sleep.

N
ICK WAS SHAKING AS
he put
the phone down. The thought of Amy being lost and alone in an air raid was making him sweat. He’d known fear himself in a raid, though like every other adult he’d tried to hide it. His own daughter and he hardly knew her. He’d never been able to help her in any way, he’d had to leave all that to Leonie, but it seemed she’d be spending tonight alone and in a strange place. She must be very frightened now.

He wanted to help her if he could, but what could anybody do but go to her home and wait for her to come? Leonie and Tom were much nearer and he knew they’d do that. He couldn’t rest, he had to do something. He could go to Mersey Reach and see for himself, he had enough petrol in his car to get there and back.

But Tom thought Amy wouldn’t be able to get there tonight. Would it be wiser to wait till first light? He could go to bed and set his alarm for five o’clock. That would give him plenty of time to dress and make a flask of tea. If it was still dark when he got there he could wait. He’d never been inside Leonie’s house, but he’d driven her home from the shop several times so he knew where to go.

But he couldn’t sleep, he tossed and turned and finally got up
an hour earlier than he’d intended. The roads were empty and it took him less time than he’d supposed to get there. He parked outside the big double gates, wide enough to get a furniture van in or a boat out. When he tried the latch he thought at first they must be locked, but no the gate had dropped and was dragging on the ground.

The sky was getting lighter in the east and he could see the shape of the house outlined against it, the roof partly gone and reduced to broken and sagging timbers. The sight made him suck in his breath in dismay. It was a scene of devastation, the house had been destroyed. He ached to comfort Leonie. He knew how she must feel about this. He shuddered, this place was enough to scare anybody.

After a moment he called, ‘Amy, Amy, are you there?’

He listened for an answer but all he heard was a soft cackle he couldn’t place. It came again. Of course! Elaine had told him about Milo’s poultry. He found the shed and unaccountably it was undamaged. He went inside, pulling the door shut behind him and that caused a lot more cackling and fluttering. He found his torch and shone the thin beam round. The hens were all right, they’d been shut in for the night, so presumably Milo would return in daylight to let them out again.

He retraced his steps and saw other sheds that seemed undamaged. He’d passed one by the gate, Leonie had told him about Milo taking a shed over as a club room when he was a boy, and guessed that was it. He opened the door and let in the cold dawn air and sensed immediately that he was not alone.

‘Amy,’ he said softly. ‘Amy, are you here?’ He shone his torch round and thought at first he was mistaken, but then he heard a rustle from under the workbench. He shone the light in that direction and saw the
girl shrink away from him. His heart turned over with relief, with joy that he’d found her. He directed his torch at the roof and went down on his haunches.