Flowers on the Mersey (6 page)

‘Becky does need some new things,’ said her mother thoughtfully. ‘She’s had little chance in the last few years of going on a shopping spree.’

‘Aye, well, there’s been little chance for any of us to go on shopping sprees and have a good time. It’ll be different in America, you wait and see.’ The voices grew faint and Rebekah presumed they had moved away from the window. Everything else was inaudible.

She lay staring out the window at the night sky, thinking that it was a real shame they were not staying in Liverpool. Still, at least they were going shopping in town tomorrow. Surely there would be an opportunity for her to get away and meet Daniel? All she had to do was to watch out for it.

‘I’m sure Papa would be against you having your hair cut.’ Rebekah’s mother looked at her anxiously as they stood in front of Hill’s Hairdressers in Ranelagh Street not far from Lewis’s great store where Sarah had just purchased a pair of black glacé kid shoes with patent leather toecaps for her daughter.

‘But everyone’s cutting their hair now,’ insisted Rebekah.

‘You’ve got such lovely hair,’ protested her mother. ‘Your father wouldn’t like it cut. Besides it would be such a shame to—’

‘Please, Mama,’ she said coaxingly. ‘It’s always braided and generally hidden under a hat so nobody sees it.’

‘The girl has a point,’ interrupted her aunt. They both stared at her. ‘Why shouldn’t she have her hair bobbed?’ She bristled. ‘If it’s good enough for
the upper classes, then who’s thy husband to speak against it?’

‘The upper classes!’ snorted Sarah. ‘That argument won’t wash with Adam. You’re a snob, Esther.’

‘No, I’m not,’ said she. ‘The trouble is, Sarah, thou hast been in the backwoods in Ireland. If thou wants to find a husband for the girl, she has to make the best of herself.’

Her mother gazed at Rebekah and said softly. ‘Of course I want a husband for her, but I don’t think Adam wants her to marry just anybody.’

Her aunt sniffed. ‘He’s just the kind of father who doesn’t want to see himself replaced in his daughter’s affections!’ Her gloved fingers twisted her handbag chain so that it dug into her hand. ‘Let the girl get her hair cut if she can make an appointment today. If she can’t – well, then, her hair will have to stay the way it is.’

Sarah’s uncertain gaze went from her sister to Rebekah.

She smiled at her mother. ‘You can tell him that I went missing and did it without your knowing.’

‘I’ll do nothing of the sort,’ said Sarah with an outward show of calm. ‘We’ll go and have another look in Lewis’s windows while you find out if you can get it cut.’

‘Thanks, Mama!’ Rebekah hugged her and stared once more at the picture of a fashionable young woman with a cap of deeply waving dark hair before
entering the hairdressing salon. If she was lucky then she would tell her mother and her aunt not to wait, that she would find her own way home.

An hour and a half later, Rebekah came out of the shop, carrying her hat. Her head felt so light that it might not have been there. She had been told that if Madam was prepared to wait, then they would fit her in. Well, Madam had waited and they had done her a treat. And, she told herself with fingers crossed, she did not care if Papa hit the roof because she was certain that Aunt Esther would take her side.

Setting out for the Pierhead, and knowing that there was plenty of time, Rebekah enjoyed looking in the shops, not only at her new reflection but at the clothes and fancy goods. Her gaze was riveted by a French voile hand-embroidered blouse in George Henry Lee’s window but she knew the chances of her buying it were remote. She turned away only to collide with two men deep in conversation. All her brave resolutions vanished and her heart sank as she recognised her father. She averted her face and mumbled an apology, and would have passed unrecognised if his companion had not seized her arm and enquired if she was all right.

Reluctantly she glanced up to see a man, probably of about thirty, pleasant-looking, fair-haired and moustached, with pale blue eyes. At the same instant she heard her father’s quick intake of breath and knew him to have identified her.

‘Rebekah!’ His mouth pursed in the way that she had become familiar with during the last months.

‘Yes, Papa?’ She forced a smile and pulled her arm out of the man’s hold. ‘I’m in a hurry – to meet – Mama and Aunt Esther in Kardomah’s cafe.’

‘Never mind that!’ Her father’s voice cut through her explanation. ‘You’ve had your hair cut! Does your mother know about this, or have you—’

‘I think it looks charming,’ interrupted his companion, smiling. ‘You never told me your daughter was so pretty, Adam. Introduce us.’

Grudgingly her father said, ‘Rebekah, this is Joshua Green, the owner of the shipping line we’re sailing with. Say your how do you do’s.’

Knowing that her father could hardly upbraid her in his presence, Rebekah held out her hand and said warmly, ‘How do you do, Mr Green? I’m happy to meet you.’

He raised his hat and the blue eyes took on a look of startling awareness as his fingers fastened about hers. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Rhoades.’ His voice was deep. ‘It’s a pity you’re to be in Liverpool such a short time because I would have asked your father’s permission to show you the sights.’

‘That’s kind of you,’ she said, surprised.

‘I would have enjoyed it.’ He smiled and pressed her fingers.

‘It’s nice of you to say so, but I must go. Thank
you.’ She withdrew her hand and before her father could say anything else she hurried away, resisting a backward glance to see if they were watching her.

The exchange had wasted time and then she had to stop and ask someone if she was going the right way for the Pierhead. They said she could not miss it if she kept walking straight ahead and down towards the river.

Rebekah did just that but was getting anxious as she neared the Mersey. She glanced up at the Liver clock. It was five past one and immediately she made haste, running up the covered passenger way that led to the landing stage. She need not have worried. Daniel was waiting.

‘I thought you mightn’t have been able to get away.’ His eyes searched her face and she knew it had been right to come.

‘I almost didn’t get here.’ Rebekah took off her hat and shook her head.

‘You’ve had your hair cut!’

‘Don’t you like it?’ Her voice was anxious. ‘It was my excuse for getting rid of my mother and aunt. And, besides, I’ve wanted to get it cut for ages. Long hair is a nuisance.’

‘I thought you were perfect as you were. But, yes, I like it.’ He smiled as she blushed.

‘Papa almost didn’t recognise me. I bumped into him in Church Street. Now I’m in trouble! If he had
known I was coming to meet you, he’d have gone up in smoke!’

‘Then we’d best avoid Church Street if we don’t want to see a fire-breathing papa,’ he said, offering her his arm. ‘Where would you like to go?’

‘I’m still only a little the wiser about places,’ she murmured, taking his arm. ‘All my family seem to be in town so window shopping is out.’

‘Best get out of Liverpool then,’ said Daniel. ‘I’ll take you on the Overhead Railway to Seaforth Sands. It’s the fastest electric train in England, and the first. We’ll be there in no time and you get a great view of the docks and the river.’

‘That sounds fine. I’ve never heard of Seaforth.’ She was very aware of the muscular arm beneath her fingers and the smell of his shaving soap. He was all spruced up – clean collar, blue tie, well-brushed dark jacket and grey flannels. She was glad that she had on her best yellow organdie frock and her only pair of silk stockings. They made a fine couple, she thought, feeling warm inside.

‘It’s a good place for an outing,’ he said. ‘The tide’s out so we’ll be able to stroll on the sands.’

‘You know it well?’

‘Well enough. I’ve been coming on and off since I was thirteen. Liverpool has some nightmarish spots but I like the place. There’s always something going on. But I was telling you about Seaforth – Prime Minister Gladstone lived there for a while, you can
see his family house, and a ship called the
Dicky Sam
went aground on the sands during Victorian times. Straight from Virginia it was, and full of tobacco.’

‘Was anybody drowned?’

‘I don’t know about that. Only that the villagers stripped the ship of its tobacco.’

‘They stole it?’

‘What the tide washes up and leaves—’ He smiled.

‘It’s still stealing,’ she said slowly. ‘The shipowners and the merchants would lose money.’

‘They can afford it.’ He glanced at her. ‘Sweated labour, Becky, that’s how they use the poor. A working man isn’t paid what his labour is worth.’

‘I know that. Are you a union man?’ She hoped he would tell her more about himself.

‘To be sure I am when I get the time. You’re not against the unions?’

‘I know hardly anything about them. What union?’

‘I’m a seaman,’ he said. ‘What other job would keep bringing me back and forth to Liverpool and Ireland?’ He took her hand and led her up the steps to the station as she digested the unexpected information, considering how it put a different light on things.

‘I suppose your being a sailor is what makes the soldiers think you’re like the Scarlet Pimpernel,’ murmured Rebekah, as they settled themselves in a second class carriage.

He stilled. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘My father said it.’ She cleared her throat. ‘He also said that the IRA have cells in Liverpool. I wasn’t sure if he was saying it just to make Mama not want to stay here. Do you know—?’

A frown creased his forehead. ‘Look out of the window, Becky. You’ll be getting a good view of the river and the ships. As well as that, there’s the warehouses for storing the cargoes to see. They’re enormous, aren’t they? They hide some terrible housing. As bad as any you’d see in Dublin.’

‘You don’t want to talk about the IRA?’ she said quietly.

‘No.’ He looked out of the window. ‘Did you know now that Liverpool has the biggest tobacco warehouse there is?’

She recognised his determination not to talk about the troubles, but his involvement was there between them even though they were away from Ireland and it bothered her, really bothered her. ‘I thought cotton was the biggest commodity Liverpool handled?’

‘Sure it’s huge.’ He glanced at her and the frown was still there. ‘But there’s more than that to the Port. You have your rubber – your timber from Canada – vegetable oils for soap. And there’s granaries for the cereals from Canada and America.’

She looked down at her hands. ‘I have to know, Daniel. Have you come to Liverpool because of the IRA?’

A muscle tightened in his cheek. ‘And there’s the emigration trade. It’s bigger than cotton now.’

‘I suppose you think it’s none of my business,’ she said.

‘I wouldn’t say that exactly. But can’t you allow me to forget that side of my life? I thought meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. That’s why I wanted to see you again. Now—’ He shrugged. ‘I didn’t know you wanted to pump information out of me.’

Rebekah felt awful. ‘I’m not trying to get information,’ she murmured. ‘I came because I wanted to be with you. Do you think I’d have bothered otherwise?’

His face softened. ‘Then why go on about the—’ he hesitated ‘—the organisation.’

‘That’s what you call it?’

‘It’s safer.’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘And you ask me why I go on about them! I don’t want you hurt.’

He smiled. ‘I’m not going to get hurt. If I tell you that I’m not as involved as Shaun – that I’ve never killed a man in ambush – will you believe me and drop the whole thing?’

‘I’ll try.’

‘Good girl. Now tell me what your father’s doing about going to America?’

‘He’s got tickets on a ship.’ She pulled a face. ‘It’s probably sailing the day after tomorrow. Aunt
Esther was livid, and I wasn’t too pleased as you can imagine.’

‘Damn!’ he exclaimed in a low voice. ‘It doesn’t give us much time.’

She shook her head. ‘And I daren’t be away too long. I’m a coward, you see. I can’t imagine how Papa could get to know I’m with you but it worries me in case he does.’

Daniel’s hand tightened about her fingers. ‘He won’t get to know. Stop worrying.’

She smiled and gave his hand a squeeze in response. For several minutes they did not speak and she was content just to be in his company. Then he began to talk about Seaforth again.

‘The Marconi Wireless Company was stationed there, you know. It was there that the captain of the
Montrose
radioed the information about the murderer Crippen being aboard his ship. Unless you’ve been aboard ship and in trouble, you can’t imagine the difference radio makes to being at sea.’

Rebekah was interested. ‘I heard someone once say that it was love that got Crippen hanged.’

‘They must have thought what they had was worth murdering for.’

‘Love does strange things to people.’

‘Sure does.’ He smiled and she smiled back. She felt happy just looking at him and listening to his talk about Seaforth and his relations in Liverpool.

They clattered down the steps from the station
and immediately felt the breeze from the river blowing sand into their faces. The sun had come out from behind white clouds and there were lots of blue patches. It was turning out to be a lovely day and Rebekah tried not to think that it could be the only one they had.

Daniel ran her down to the beach and she laughed for the sheer pleasure of being in his company, out in the fresh air with no fear of snipers or bombs going off.

He brought her to a swinging stop when they reached the shore, pointing out the high tide mark at the foot of the cobbles. ‘The tide comes sweeping in fast all along the coast for quite a way. There’s sandbanks so you have to be careful.’

They strolled along the deserted beach. The tide was way out and sky and sand seemed to stretch for miles. Her nerves were soothed. Across the water she could see the low green Wirral coastline and the hills of Wales. It was different to Ireland and yet in a way similar. There was a joy inside her that she had never experienced before and every time she looked at Daniel, her heart seemed to swell.

The sun grew warmer and they took off their shoes and stockings and paddled in water in a shallow gully left behind by the tide. They did not talk about anything serious, only of shells, crabs, fishing and swimming. He told her tales that made her laugh. Uncomplicated laughter, but at the back of her mind
all the time was the knowledge that there was little time for his tales and the simpler things that couples did together. Probably they would never do this again and she could not bear the thought.

They walked on, barefooted, and when Daniel’s arm slid about Rebekah’s waist, she leant against him. ‘There’s sinking sand somewhere,’ he murmured. ‘My cousins used to warn me about it. They told me that a donkey was swallowed whole into a pit of black mud.’