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Authors: June Francis

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BOOK: Flowers on the Mersey
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‘Why do you visit her?’ His voice was curious. ‘How did you get to know her? It couldn’t have been through the priest if you’re a Quaker.’

‘Her grandson’s name was on the list of those killed fighting for the British in the war,’ she said in her quick, light manner of speaking. ‘Mama and I started visiting. It was our bit for the war effort. We’d heard that the Friends – Quakers to you – were visiting families in Liverpool, you see.’

‘I see.’ He made no further comment as they came to O’Connell’s Bridge with its customary collection of beggars, some with missing limbs. One was selling shoelaces. Rebekah paused and bought some and Daniel followed suit, murmuring, ‘Bloody war. Why did they go and volunteer?’

She remained silent, although she could have said there had been plenty in Ireland glad to take the King’s shilling during the Great War because they were unemployed and their families hungry. It made her angry that those in Ireland killing each other could not use their energies to join forces and fight those kinds of evils in both countries.

Daniel said, ‘Do we cross for where you live?’

‘No,’ she said shortly.

‘Then are you really wanting to go straight home?’ He smiled and she thought it was enough to charm crows from the trees and was suddenly wary.

‘Why do you ask?’

‘It’s a fine day and I’m free for a few hours.’

People’s suffering was still on her mind. ‘Free from what – ambushing people?’

He frowned. ‘Why go on about it? I didn’t ambush anybody, as you know. If you feel that bad about me, why did you wait?’

‘I don’t know why I waited,’ she said honestly.

His frown vanished. ‘Don’t you?’ He seized her hand and pulled her on to the bridge. She had to run to keep up with him and was confused as to why she bothered. She was definitely annoyed at his presumption in taking her hand; it simmered just below the surface, but mingling with it was an unfamiliar excitement because what was happening was so out of the ordinary and he was so different from the boys she knew.

She sought for something to say to stop her mind dwelling on the effect he had on her. ‘Do you know Dublin?’ She asked that because he did not have the Dubliner’s way of speaking.

‘Sure. I used to come more often when Mam was alive.’ He slowed down and matched his easy gait to her hurrying steps, guiding her round a mess on the ground. ‘Would you like to go a different way than this?’

‘No.’ She glanced over her shoulder. ‘Hannah just might come looking for me.’ She did not like mentioning Willie now.

‘Who’s Hannah? Your sister?’

‘I have no sister.’ A grim little smile played round Rebekah’s mouth. ‘Hannah’s a real live gorgon who’d turn you to stone as soon as look at you. She’s from Liverpool and all she does is go on about the place. My Aunt Esther, whom I’ve never met, sent her because Mama isn’t well. I think it’s all a trick. For weeks she’s worked on Mama until all she does now is talk about when she lived in Liverpool. You’d think the place was the promised land to hear her. And then doesn’t Hannah suddenly start on Papa, but it’s a different story with him! It’s America, and the ships that sail from Liverpool to New York taking emigrants. You’d think she’d been there from her talk of what a great country it is. I’ve never known my parents to disagree but now, although they don’t exactly argue, you can tell that one wants to settle in Liverpool and the other in America.’

‘Who do you think will win?’ He sounded amused.

Rebekah flashed him an embarrassed look and tried for a light note. ‘Papa, of course. Doesn’t the man always get his way? I take Mama’s side, and maybe that’s why Hannah doesn’t like me. When she first came she was all smiles – but that was when she thought we were only going over to Liverpool for a visit. When it became a possibility that we might live there for good, she changed. For some reason she doesn’t want us settling in Liverpool.’

‘What reason can she have for not wanting you living there?’

She shrugged.

‘Perhaps she’s jealous of you?’ he suggested with a smile. ‘You’re young.’

‘Why should she begrudge me that?’ Rebekah’s eyes sparkled. ‘No, it’s because I don’t behave as she thinks a good little Quaker girl should. In her opinion, I talk too much, I fidget, I’ve taken up my hems – that’s the last word in flightiness according to her! I said I’d like to go dancing so she says it’s because I want to flirt! She spies on me when I talk to the young men in the street.’ She stopped abruptly and looked away over the glistening peaty waters of the river. She was talking too much. What would he think of her?

‘Go on.’ He was looking at her again with that expression in his eyes that made her feel – she wasn’t sure exactly how she felt. It was odd.

‘It’s not important,’ she murmured.

‘What
is
important?’

‘Mama getting better.’

‘What’s wrong with her?’

‘The fighting’s made her ill. She jumps if I drop a fork.’

‘That’s really why you’re leaving Dublin?’

‘Yes. Aunt Esther made us realise that there’s no need for us to stay.’

There was silence and she was very aware of his eyes on her. ‘I suppose you were against Pearse and the Easter Rising four years ago?’

She looked at him, puzzled by the question. ‘Not really. I thought it wrong that the British executed him and the other leaders. It turned them into martyrs, and people felt sorry for them then and angry with the British Government. I wish Pearse and the others had been patient and then Ireland wouldn’t be getting torn apart.’

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully and he kicked a pebble. ‘Frustration. What do you do when you feel like you’ll never get what you want? People lose patience.’

‘They act stupidly instead, like your brother,’ she said without thinking.

‘We’ve lost two brothers,’ repeated Daniel, his tone rebuking her. ‘I’m sorry he frightened you.’ His hand brushed hers and she drew back.

‘Let’s not talk about it.’

He nodded. ‘Let’s carry on talking about you. These lads – are you walking out with one of them?’

‘Oh no!’ she said quickly. Their eyes met and there was a churning feeling in her stomach. ‘Have you a wife?’ she blurted out.

He raised his eyebrows and his fingers caught her fingertips. ‘I was thinking about marrying once but she married someone else. I’m glad now that I didn’t.’

‘Why? Has she changed? Is she not so pretty? Has she put weight on?’ Rebekah freed her hand, but she was glad that he was not married.

‘It had nothing to do with looks. But wouldn’t
you stop right now walking with me if I had a wife? That’s why I’m glad.’ He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, causing her to jump. ‘Your skin’s so smooth and you’re the pretty one.’

She blushed. ‘You shouldn’t say that. I don’t need flattery.’

He looked disbelieving. ‘Don’t you like nice things being said to you? One of those boys must have said something?’

Rebekah thought of Willie and his poetry about the length of her eyelashes. ‘They tease. One tried to kiss me but I didn’t want him to.’

‘Why?’ His shoulder touched her upper arm and she looked away. ‘Because I’m waiting for Mr Right to come along.’ Her voice was deliberately firm. ‘And Hannah was watching through the curtains, and she’d tell Papa.’

‘Has Papa someone in mind for you then?’

‘Not that I know of. He’s just old-fashioned! You wouldn’t think that him and Mama ran away. She says that he was very handsome when he was young, and although she was brought up to believe that it’s more important to see the beauty of the soul shining through a person’s eyes than for them to be good looking, she couldn’t resist him.’

‘Fancy that!’ His face drew close to hers, almost touching it. ‘I can see the soul in your eyes.’

Her heart suddenly felt as if it was beating on the outside of her body and she murmured, ‘Hannah
says that if a man kisses you, he can give you a baby.’ She did not know why she said it.

‘It takes more than a kiss to make a baby.’ His voice was expressionless.

Colour flooded her cheeks again. ‘I’m not stupid! Why are we talking like this?’ She stopped abruptly, knowing that she should never have come with him.

‘Perhaps because kissing is on your mind?’

She gave him a look. ‘Only because we’re talking about it.’

‘Only talking.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘There’s no danger in that, is there?’

Rebekah thought it wiser to remain silent and considered turning back, but he made no more comments guaranteed to make her blush, and soon the sweep of Dublin Bay was before them.

Ships were at anchor and a lone yacht flew before the stiff breeze that whipped colour into Rebekah’s cheeks and set her skirt flapping against her lisle-clad legs. She glanced at Daniel and was surprised by a grim expression on his face as he looked not at the sea but to the hills. ‘What’s wrong?’ she demanded impulsively.

‘I’m thinking of the blood that’s stained those hills. And how it must tear at a man’s heart to leave Ireland for good.’

She caught on to his last words. ‘Are you leaving Ireland too?’

He did not answer but said instead, ‘You said you were leaving. When?’

‘The day after tomorrow. We’ll be taking the steamer to Liverpool and staying with my aunt. Perhaps we’ll go to America from there – who knows?’ She shrugged.

‘There’s plenty of opportunities for a man to put the past behind him in America,’ he murmured. ‘Did you know that the old Celts believed that the Land of the Ever Young existed westwards across the Atlantic? There’s a story about Oisín, a knight of the Fianna, who went there and lived with the beautiful princess of Tír na nÓg, never growing old.’

She smiled. ‘Everlasting life. It’s what a lot of people are looking for.’

He dug his hands deep into his pockets. ‘In this story it didn’t do them any good. Their love couldn’t be consummated because she was immortal, and he a man. If he left her world then he would die, while she carried on living forever without him.’

‘What happened to them?’

He stared at her. ‘It’s a romance. Oisín was heartsick for Ireland. So he left her and they never saw each other again.’

‘How sad for the princess,’ she said quietly.

‘It was sad for both of them.’ He surprised her by taking her hand. ‘I wish you weren’t leaving so soon.’

She did not know what to say to that or whether to snatch her hand back. His skin was warm and rough, his grip firm. ‘I have to go,’ she said at last.

‘It doesn’t give us much time to get to know each other better.’

‘There’s no point in doing that, anyway,’ she said.

‘You don’t think so?’

‘No.’ Her tone was positive. ‘I can’t stay long. There’s a hundred and one things to do before we leave.’

‘And I suppose your papa wouldn’t like you being here with me?’

‘Yes.’

He toyed with her fingers. ‘You won’t want me to be seeing you home then?’

‘I didn’t say that. But maybe it’s not sensible. If my father—’

He interrupted her. ‘Then perhaps we’d better say goodbye here.’ He leant towards her and kissed her briefly. She stared at him. Part of her had been waiting for it to happen. Hannah would say that she’d been asking for it. Glancing about them she saw that there were only seabirds gliding overhead to take notice of them, so that when he drew her closer she made little resistance. She wanted him to kiss her again and for longer this time. It was foolish but that was how she felt. The next kiss proved more than nice and she responded, but not for long. She placed her hands against his chest and he lifted his head and looked at her. She found herself with nothing to say and he kissed her again. She was almost breathless by the time that kiss came to an end, and decided that it better stop now.

‘It’s time I was going home.’

He hugged her close. ‘You don’t want to go home?’

‘No. But I’d better.’ Her tone was grave.

A slight smile lit his face and he let go of her and sat on the grass. ‘You liked it though.’

‘Yes. But I wasn’t brought up to think about my own enjoyment.’ She knelt on the grass. ‘It’s different for girls.’

‘Of course it is.’ He stretched out. ‘And as well as that, I’m Catholic and a rebel.’

‘Yes.’

‘You think they’re insurmountable objects to our getting to know each other?’

‘What do you think?’

He leant on his elbow and his expression was thoughtful. ‘They probably are.’

She frowned. ‘Yes. Although you act like they’re not there. It’s the same with the shooting earlier. You seem to be able to brush it aside. I saw it and it’s the kind of thing that makes me glad to be leaving.’

‘You’ve made your point.’ He looked over the sea, his expression sombre.

Rebekah’s eyes followed his and she considered it wise to change the subject. ‘Papa says that America has breathtaking scenery.’

It was a couple of minutes before he responded and then it seemed it was with a struggle. ‘Would you mind going to America?’

‘I haven’t thought about it much.’ She twisted her hat between her hands. ‘Liverpool – Ireland –
America,’ she murmured. ‘They have strong links. Mama was telling me about her side of the family. My grandfather had some kind of wholesale shop. He came down from Bolton in Lancashire during the American Civil War because thousands were out of work. The ships blockaded the Southern ports in America, which meant there was no cotton for the mills. They were hard times. So he went to Liverpool looking for work.’

‘How did he make the money to buy the shop?’ Daniel broke off a blade of grass and chewed on it.

She leant towards him, her expression lively. ‘He went to the Meeting House on first-day – that’s Sunday to you – and the owner took him on. He worked hard. When the boss died he married his daughter. Papa wasn’t so lucky. He’d hitched a ride on one of the wagons up from the docks to my grandfather’s shop. He’d just got off the boat from Ireland after a quarrel with his brother. Till then he lived on the family farm. He came in looking for a job and met Mama. They married against my grandfather’s wishes. Because he was Quaker, she was treated like she didn’t exist by him and the Friends.’

‘What made your father come back to Ireland?’

BOOK: Flowers on the Mersey
12.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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