Flowers on the Mersey (7 page)

She shivered. ‘If you were wanting to bring me down to earth then you’ve done it, Daniel O’Neill. Imagine losing someone you love in such a way!’

‘Do you love anybody that much, you couldn’t bear to lose them?’ He turned her towards him and his expression was intense as his eyes scanned her face.

‘Do you?’ she whispered.

‘I’m starting to think I might.’ He stroked back her hair.

‘Me as well. But what can we do?’

‘I don’t know. But don’t you be worrying about what I said about the mud. It’s probably not true. My cousins are terrible exaggerators. If they caught a tiddler it would end up a whale.’

She smiled as he had intended and he kissed her open mouth, long and deep. They both dropped the shoes they carried and their arms went round each other. She rubbed her cheek against his and kissed
it, tasting the salt on his skin. Then she pressed her mouth against his and he pulled her against him with insistent hands, and kissed her back. His passion dissolved any sensible thoughts she might have had and she responded with hungry enthusiasm. For what seemed ages they only kissed. Then, ‘You’re lovely,’ he said, ‘I want to make love to you.’

He pulled her down onto the sand and her heart pounded. Their hands explored, undoing buttons. He had hair on his chest and his skin was cool with the wind from the sea. He touched her breast and a few moments later there did not seem anything terribly wrong about him rubbing his chest against her breasts. It was at least five minutes before he stroked her skirts up above her thighs. For a moment she did think that really she should say something to stop him but there was such desire inside her that although she protested and he hesitated, removing his hand, it was not long before he was back again and caressing between her legs. She was surprised at how pleasant it was and how weak her resistance. She did not want him to stop. Her pleasure was growing, overwhelming her, until she had no control over the movements of her body. When he stopped she wanted him back and said so. ‘If you’re sure,’ he murmured, and took off his pants. She stared up at him from dazed eyes, not so certain when she saw him naked. She liked the look of the strength of him, but before her mind could touch on the
consequences of what might happen next, he was beside her again. His fingers touched her and she quivered with anticipation, closing her eyes and her mind as he straddled and slowly penetrated her. It barely hurt, and as he moved, the pain mixed with the pleasure that still lingered, and her desire for more caused her body to match his movements. Her arms went round him but he removed them one at a time and withdrew quickly. She reached up for him and his mouth touched hers briefly.

Luxuriating in a sense of relaxation that she had never felt before, it was several minutes before she opened her eyes and saw for the first time what had entered her. It didn’t look as big as it had felt inside her and now her mind took over. ‘Will I have a baby?’ Her voice was low and slightly apprehensive.

He shook his head. ‘I made sure I wouldn’t do that to you.’

‘How?’ She sat up.

‘Just take my word for it.’ He pulled on his trousers, then passed shoes and stockings to her.

She stared at him. ‘We can’t just say goodbye,’ she insisted.

He wiped sand off his foot with his sock, not looking at her. ‘I’ve nothing to offer you, Becky.’ His voice was taut. ‘I’m a man with a price on my head.’

For a moment she could think of nothing to say. All the pleasure had dissolved and all she could feel was a great big lump in her throat. ‘I don’t know
what to say,’ she gasped. ‘After what we’ve just done, how can you just leave me?’

‘What else can I do?’ He glanced at her, frowning. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry?’ She put a hand to her mouth and closed her eyes, forcing back tears.

‘Becky! Becky, don’t cry.’ He dropped his sock and put his arms round her. ‘This ship you’re going to America on—’

She rubbed her eyes against his bare chest. ‘I don’t know the name of it.’

‘God, you must!’ he said urgently. ‘Think!’

‘It’s no use my thinking,’ she cried, pushing herself away from him. ‘We were all so annoyed with Papa that we never asked!’

‘The line – what’s its name?’

‘I don’t know that either!’ She hunched her legs, aware of her nakedness, and dropped her chin on her knees.

‘Don’t you know anything about it at all?’

‘Only the name of the owner.’ She lifted her eyes and looked at him.

‘Well?’ he said, smiling.

‘Joshua Green.’

‘Hell!’ His smile faded, and reaching out for her clothes he threw them at her. ‘It just would have to be Green’s, wouldn’t it! He sank back on to the sand, a moody expression on his face.

‘What is it?’

‘It’s him, that’s all.’ He looked up at her. ‘He has land in Ireland, you know.’

‘I know. Apparently he owns the farm that was once my grandma’s. I don’t know the hows and whys. It was years ago, when I was a child.’ She bit her lip, clutching her clothes to her breast. ‘Does it matter to us?’

‘It matters to me.’ He picked up his sock again. ‘Can you find out the name of the ship and meet me at the Pierhead about two o’clock tomorrow.’

‘I’ll try.’ She began to dress ‘It won’t be easy getting away.’

‘If you can’t make it, you can’t,’ he said grimly.

‘But that would mean we wouldn’t see each other again,’ she stammered.

‘You really do want to see me again?’

At a look from her a slow smile lit his face. ‘Trust me, Becky. I’ll think of something. Now hurry up! There’s a man with a dog coming along the beach.’

She hurried.

Rebekah walked swiftly up the road in the direction of her aunt’s house, hoping her father had not arrived home yet.

Hannah opened the door and sniffed. ‘Thee’s here at last, are thee? Yer hair’s a mess.’

‘It’s because of the wind.’ Rebekah flashed a honeyed smile and pushing past her went on into the house.

Her mother and aunt were having tea. ‘Sorry I’m
late,’ she said breezily, pulling off her gloves, hoping that they couldn’t tell anything from her face, ‘I’m completely windblown because I’ve been down by the river watching the ships. Is Papa in?’

‘Not yet.’ Her mother stared at her, fidgetting with the neck of her dress. ‘I hope he’s in a good mood.’

‘I saw him in town. He was with that shipowner he mentioned – Joshua Green.’

‘Green’s?’ Her aunt shook her head and picked up her knitting. ‘Such a small company. I hope his ships are up to scratch.’

‘Oh, do stop going on, Esther!’ Sarah’s attention was still for her daughter. ‘What did he have to say about your hair?’

‘What you’d expect.’ Rebekah took a scone from a plate. ‘Mr Green said he liked it.’

‘I doubt that would weigh with your father.’ Her mother bit her lip.

Rebekah shrugged, and tilted her chin. Being with Daniel had put strength in her somehow. She was ready to confront her father, and anyway doubted he would hit her while staying in her aunt’s house. Anyway, she intended to be nice to him because she needed the name of the ship and a chance to get away tomorrow.

It was not long before he came in. ‘Well, miss, I can’t say that I liked it at first sight,’ he muttered, accepting a cup of tea from Hannah and standing in front of the fireplace.

‘I consider she looks extremely neat,’ put in Esther, her blue eyes determined.

‘It’s tidy, Adam,’ said his wife quickly, ‘and will be easier for Becky to take care of on the voyage.’

His gaze fell on his wife. ‘No doubt she did it without your approval?’

‘Yes!’ said Rebekah swiftly.

Her mother shook her greying head. ‘No, Adam.’

‘I persuaded her to let the girl get it done,’ put in Esther. ‘Lots of women are having a bob these days. I’ve been thinking of it myself.’

His mouth thinned. ‘They say there’s no fool like an old fool, but for pretty young things I suppose it’s acceptable.’ He looked in Rebekah’s direction. ‘Joshua Green’s sister has had hers done recently. She’s not very well apparently since her husband was killed in the war, and lives quietly. For some reason Joshua believes that a visit from you would cheer her up. As I’ve some business to discuss with him, he suggests that we spend the afternoon at his house and have tea with him tomorrow.’

‘Surely if you’ve business to discuss you’d be better going alone,’ said Rebekah swiftly, her heart sinking. ‘There’s things I’d much rather be doing than visiting strangers.’

Her father’s mouth pulled down at the corners. ‘I said Mr Green’s sister is ill,’ he said emphatically. ‘Surely if you had time in Dublin to visit that old woman, Mary, you can spare time to relieve the
monotony of the day for a sick young woman? I insist on your coming with me.’

‘Mama, couldn’t you?’ Rebekah sent her mother a look of entreaty.

Sarah shook her head. ‘Your aunt and I are visiting an old friend. I would gladly take your place otherwise.’

‘That’s settled it then,’ said her father, his eyes steely. ‘You come with me, Rebekah, and I want no arguments or trying to get out of it. I’ll be keeping my eye on you.’

‘What time is this visit?’ Her hand curled tightly in her lap.

‘After lunch.’

Rebekah could have screamed. She was already missing Daniel. ‘Where do they live?’

‘Not far. The other side of Newsham Park. Joshua’s brother made the move out of the town centre for his sister’s health a couple of years back.’

She tried one last time. ‘If she’s been married, Papa, then she must be a few years older than me? She might not want my company.’

‘She’s twenty-two.’ He gulped his tea and reached for a scone. ‘Young to have suffered so much. But perhaps Joshua’s right and you can cheer her up. Whatever you do, don’t be talking about the fighting at home. It could upset her.’

‘Perhaps you’d like to tell me what I can talk to her about?’ Rebekah said acidly, ‘I doubt we’ll have much in common.’

His mouth tightened. ‘I’m sure you’ll find something. Now let’s drop the subject. Tell me, Sarah, did you get all that you went for in town?’

Rebekah went out of the room and up to her bedroom. What was the point of asking her father the name of the ship now? Was it worth her trying to get out of the house earlier in the day? She thought of his expression and voice when he said, ‘I’ll be watching you.’ He would too. She sank onto the bed. She could only put her trust in Daniel as he had said she should.

Joshua Green’s house fronted an expanse of green parkland. A gravelled path flanked by rhododendrons wound round the side of a large red-brick porch, and there were several steps up to the entrance. A ship’s bell swung from a wrought iron hook.

Rebekah watched, one white-gloved hand clasped about the Barker & Dobson chocolates that her mother had insisted she took for Joshua Green’s sister. This was more the kind of house that she had thought Aunt Esther would have. Her father pulled the short rope that set the bell clanging. Nothing happened. She felt fidgety and checked that the yellow ribbon threaded through her short hair was lying flat and fastened the top button of the brown jacket over her primrose-coloured frock. Adam rang the bell again and for good measure banged the knocker. Moments later the door was opened by an elderly maid.

The hall seemed dark after the brightness of the sun and their feet made a ringing noise on the tiled floor as they followed the maid to a back room where she announced them. A yawning voice bid them: ‘Come in.’

Warmth hit them and Rebekah’s eyes went involuntarily to the fireplace where one of the latest gas fires burnt. Then her gaze moved quickly to the woman lying on the sofa with her mousy head nestling against several cretonne cushions. On the plaid rug that covered her legs lay the magazine
Vogue
, a blue-black Persian cat and a half-empty bowl of grapes.

‘Josh shouldn’t be long because he’s been gone ages,’ she murmured, staring at them. ‘The vicar rang up, wanting something or other, and he said it would be easier if he went round to sort it out.’ She sat up and Rebekah was able to gain a better view of the pale face and nondescript features of their hostess. ‘You don’t mind waiting for tea? If you’re hungry, help yourself to a grape.’ Limpid grey eyes seemed to gaze past them as with a slender hand, adorned only by a wedding and an engagement ring of rubies and pearls, she offered them the bowl of black grapes, still with the bloom on them.

Her father declined politely and nudged Rebekah’s arm. She hesitated before refusing. The girl shrugged. ‘We grow them ourselves – or at least Fred the gardener does.’ She gathered the bowl to
her beige jersey-clad bosom and lowering her head took a grape from the bowl with her teeth.

Involuntarily, Rebekah glanced at her father, who nudged her again. ‘Give her the chocolates,’ he muttered beneath his breath.

‘Chocolates?’ Their hostess stared vaguely at them. ‘For me? What sort are they?’

Rebekah handed them to her and she smiled, gazing down at the box. ‘How kind! I’ll eat them now.’ She dropped the bowl of grapes on the Indian carpet, then opened the box of chocolates. She bit into one before looking up abruptly and saying, ‘I’ve forgotten to ask you to sit down, haven’t I? Do sit and have a chocolate.’

Adam refused but this time Rebekah did not. She was hungry. Her father sat ramrod straight in an armchair, his expression unusually blank. Rebekah, who was finding their hostess more interesting than she had expected, relaxed in a leather-upholstered chair, and waited for her father to speak first.

There was a silence while Mrs Richards ate the chocolates, flicking over the pages of the magazine, giving them only a perfunctory glance. Rebekah decided to break the silence and sought for something safe. ‘Does your cat have a name?’

Joshua’s sister looked up at her from beneath pale lashes. ‘Bloody foreign moggy,’ she said, seeming to relish the words. ‘That’s what Fred calls him when he mucks up the garden. My name’s Emma. Dicky
calls me little Emma. His proper name is Richard Richards. Silly, isn’t it? He’ll be coming home soon now the war’s been declared officially over.’

‘The war finished ages ago,’ said Rebekah, startled. ‘In 1918.’