Liverpool Annie (17 page)

Marie developed a passion for the theatre and dragged her sister to the Playhouse and the Royal Court, where they saw Margaret Lockwood, Jean Kent, Jack Hawkins and Alec Guinness. Marie insisted on waiting for almost an hour outside the stage door for Sam Wanamaker's autograph, only to discover he'd left by a different door. One night, they followed Michael Redgrave and Googie Withers along Lime Street as they made their way to the Adelphi.

'Just think,' Marie crowed as they trailed several feet behind. 'One day, there might be fans following me back to my hotel!'

'Only if they're idiots,' Annie snapped. 'Frankly, sis, I feel dead stupid. They might think we're private detectives.'

Marie left school and enrolled part-time at the Sheila Elliott Clarke Drama School in Bold Street. With a tenacity Annie never dreamed her sister possessed, she increased her hours at the Grand, and took a Saturday morning job as a waitress. She had no intention of spending her share of the money from Orlando Street on another house; apart from which, the sum was considerably depleted, what with school fees and other expenses. Anyroad, house prices were soaring. Someone Marie knew had actually paid an unbelievable three thousand pounds for a semi-detached in Child-wall.

'As soon as I've saved enough money, I'm off to London,' Marie declared. 'It's the only place if you want to become an actress.'

It all sounded terribly exciting. Annie felt very dull, particularly when, much to Sylvia's astonishment, her friend got an A level in Art, and managed to obtain a place at Art College.

It even seemed a tiny bit unfair. Annie would have loved to have taken a course in dress design as Mr Andrews had urged, but it had always seemed out of the question. Now Sylvia was about to take 'Art in Advertising', yet she wasn't the least bit interested. It was merely a way of passing a few years in an enjoyable way without going to work.

What future was there for her at Stickley & Plumm? If she stayed long enough. Miss Hunt would retire and she might become Mr Grayson's secretary, and it would be her turn to tie his shoelaces!

She supposed one day she might get married, but so far had rarely met someone she would go out with twice, let alone marry. Apart from Cyril Sewerbreath, most males seemed incredibly childish. They had spots, dirty fingernails, and giggled all the time. It would be nice to go out with someone of at least twenty-five. 'Perhaps I'll have to wait till I'm twenty-five meself.'

Mrs Lloyd, the old lady Marie lived with, was becoming more feeble by the day. Dot gave a hand when she could, but Marie had to get the woman out of bed each morning, and lately had felt obliged to help her dress.

'The other day, I found the chamber pot and it was full to overflowing,' Marie said when she turned up for work. 'I emptied it, but it didn't half pong. I nearly puked. I'll ring her son later. The thing is, he seems to think she's my responsibility, but I'm just the lodger.

I'm quite fond of Mrs Lloyd, but it's horrible, sis. It reminds me of home.'

She didn't want to move elsewhere. 'I'm fed up being a lodger, and I don't earn enough for me own flat. Still, never mind, eh! In another nine months I'll be off to London. In the meantime, I'm terrified one morning I'll find poor Mrs Lloyd dead in her bed.'

It was then Annie decided it was time she left the Grand. She would be eighteen soon, and couldn't live with Cecy and Bruno for ever.

'But Marie's old enough to find herself a bedsit, surely,' Sylvia said crossly when Annie broke the news.

'You're older and you haven't,' Annie pointed out.

'And it wouldn't do her any harm to look after a sick old lady for a while,' Sylvia's voice was tart.

'She's looked after a sick old lady for more than a while, apart from which, you wouldn't look after a sick old lady for five minutes. Mrs Lloyd would be long dead if she'd had you for a lodger.'

Sylvia grinned. 'I'd probably have killed her - which reminds me, it'll kill Cecy when she hears you're going to leave.'

Cecy was devastated. 'But Annie, there's no need for you to go,' she cried. 'I hoped you'd stay till you got married. Bruno and I think of you as our daughter.'

'But Marie . . .'

'There's room for Marie! It would be lovely having you both.'

Cecy didn't know this was out of the question. Marie and Sylvia scarcely spoke. Although Annie felt wretched at the thought of leaving the people who had supported her through the worst time of her life, in her heart, she knew it wasn't solely to do with Marie. It was time she became independent. To her relief, she found Bruno on her side.

'You must allow Annie to make her own decisions,

darling,' he told Cecy. 'Just as you must allow Sylvia to make hers - if she ever gets round to making one,' he added darkly.

Bruno helped Annie find the flat. It was on the top floor of a gracious four-storey house in Upper Parliament Street, a short bus ride from Stickley & Plumm -within walking distance, if she felt energetic. Thin partitions had been erected to form a small bedroom and kitchen on one side of what had once been a large attic, and a second bedroom and bathroom on the other, leaving the middle section as the lounge. The bath was full of rust stains and the kitchen had no ventilation, but the view from the pretty arched window was magnificent, encompassing the entire centre of Liverpool with the protestant cathedral protruding upwards like a candle and the River Mersey twinkling in the distance. Everywhere was very shabby and urgently in need of decoration, but it was cheap and Annie fell in love with it at first sight.

'Upper Parliament Street!' screeched Dot when she heard. 'Jaysus, girl, it's dead scruffy there. It's where the prostitutes hang out.'

'As long as no-one takes me for a prostitute . . .' She'd found the area very interesting. People of all shades and colours lived there.

Dot said scathingly. 'Upper Parliament Street was once the poshest part of Liverpool. All the shipping and cotton merchants lived there, but it's been going downhill for years.'

'I like it,' Annie said stubbornly. 'And the rent's not much. I'll be able to afford it when Marie goes to London.'

'I should bloody hope so,' Dot grumbled. 'I'm amazed they've got the cheek to ask rent, in an area hke that.'

The sisters were excited as they settled into their new home. They covered the walls with posters to hide the dirty marks and did their best to polish the scratches out of the furniture. Annie made new curtains for the lounge.

Cecy and Dot came, breathless after climbing four flights of stairs, to make sure they'd settled in. They grudgingly agreed the place looked quite homely, but Dot swore she'd been propositioned on the way.

'This geezer asked how much I charged. I told him, "More than you're ever likely to earn in your bleedin' lifetime, mate".'

'What did he say?' asked Marie, fascinated.

'He said, "You look worth every penny. Missus".'

Annie didn't believe a word of it.

The door flew open and Rose hobbled in with a cup of tea. 'Here you are, darling. A nice hot cuppa to warm the cockles of your heart.'

Annie looked at the old woman vacantly. Rose snapped her fingers, 'Wake up, Annie. It's tea time.'

'Oh! Thanks, Rose.'

'You were miles away, darling. Your boss is on the way up.'

'Is he?' She began to shuffle papers around in order to look busy.

Jeremy Rupert appeared in the doorway. 'I've some letters I'd like to get rid of before my four o'clock appointment arrives, Annie. You can bring the tea with you.'

Groaning inwardly, Annie picked up her things and took them into his office. She was longing for her tea, but it would inevitably go cold while he reeled off the letters without pausing. She was about to sit beside the desk, when Mr Rupert pushed past and pinched her bottom.

Annie gritted her teeth and said nothing.

The Cavern was packed to capacity. Cigarette smoke mingled with the condensation on the walls, so they appeared to be shrouded in steam. On the small stage, a band was playing traditional jazz with pulsating exuberance. The rows of wooden chairs in front were packed with an equally exuberant audience, who tapped their feet and clapped their hands to the music and from time to time burst into spontaneous applause.

There were as many people standing as sitting. Almost all were in their teens or early twenties, and scarcely any were even mildly intoxicated. Alcohol was not on sale at the Cavern, though a few youngsters secretly brought their own, adding gin, rum or other spirits to their soft drinks when no-one was looking.

The atmosphere was friendly. Merely to be there meant that normal reservations had been dispensed with. Everybody talked to each other as if they all belonged to the same family, rather than just a club.

Annie and Sylvia were with a group of students from the Art College. Nearly all wore black, even the boys. Sylvia was dressed in tight black slacks and an over-long black sweater that came almost to her knees. With her black-rimmed eyes, lashes stiff with mascara and pale hpstick, she looked like a ghost. Annie didn't feel out of place in her red-and-blue striped slacks and white sweater. She'd tied her hair back with a white chiffon scarf and draped the ends over her shoulder.

She loved the Cavern. It was the only place in Liverpool where she felt unconventional. It was the sort of club you would find in London, perhaps even Paris!

One of the boys asked her to dance, and they went into the dark, arched section given over to dancing.

They jigged to and fro, not touching - Annie never knew what to do with her hands. The noise was too great to talk, unless you yelled at the top of your voice.

After a few minutes, she and the boy smiled at each other and returned to the group. An older man had arrived who looked the longed-for twenty-five. Sylvia hung onto his arm and stared at him provocatively. Annie managed to discern his name was Ted and he was a lecturer at the college. He was attractive, with untidy brown hair and an engaging grin, and as shabbily dressed as the students.

As the night wore on, Annie felt she would melt in the heat. She made her way to the rather disgusting Ladies to powder her nose, in case it was shining like a beacon. It didn't look too bad when she examined it in the mirror attached crookedly to the wall. Even so, she gave it, and the freckles between her eyes, a dab of pancake, and freshened up her lashes with spit. The door flew open and Sylvia came whirling in.

'I saw you sneak off, Annie,' she shrilled excitedly. 'Oh, isn't Ted Deakin delicious? I'm sure he fancies me.'

'He's okay. He's a bit old.'

'You hypocrite, Annie Harrison! You're always on about preferring older men.'

Annie made a horrible face. 'For me, not you.'

'Anyway, we're going to Bold Street for a coffee. Are you coming?'

'And be a gooseberry! Not likely.'

'There's a crowd of us going, silly. Come on, Annie,' Sylvia said coaxingly. 'Live a little.'

Annie glanced at her watch. 'I'd better go home.' It was almost midnight, and she wanted to go to Holy Communion in the morning, which meant coffee was out as it would break her fast. Marie was staying at the Grand, not that Annie minded being alone. Although meals weren't usually served on Sundays, it was Cecy's

uncle's Golden Wedding and she was providing lunch for forty. It wasn't worth Marie's while to come home and go back in the morning.

She collected her coat, said goodbye to Sylvia, who was sulking, and took her time walking home. As she neared the house where the flat was, she blinked in astonishment when a taxi skidded to a halt outside and Sylvia and Ted Deakin climbed out. Sylvia was flushed and no longer sulking. She gave Annie her most charming smile.

'Ted's missed the last train. Could he sleep on your sofa tonight?'

'Well . . .' Annie wasn't sure if she wanted to spend the night alone with a strange man.

'I thought I'd sleep in Marie's room, if you don't mind,' Sylvia went on coaxingly. 'She's staying at the Grand, isn't she?'

It would be churlish to refuse. Annie took them upstairs. In the flat, she spread the spare blankets on the worn tapestry sofa. 'I'm afraid there's only a cushion for a pillow.'

Ted grinned. 'It looks very comfortable. I'm sure I'll sleep well.'

She doubted it. He was about two foot longer than the sofa, which had several protruding springs. She went to bed herself and fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. When she awoke, she was greeted by the sound of church beUs. She sat up, stretched her arms, then leapt out of bed to go to the lavatory.

To her surprise, the blankets on the sofa hadn't been touched. To her even further surprise, she could hear voices coming from the other bedroom. Ted and Sylvia were in the room together.

Annie turned cold. Sylvia had slept with Ted Deakin!

She rushed into the kitchen, made a pot of tea, put everything on a tray, and carried it to her room. She

returned to bed, fuming. It seemed an age, and she'd already drunk four cups, before the door to Marie's room opened. There was a pause, then the front door banged. Sylvia had actually slept with a man. It made Annie feel dead funny. She was annoyed that her heart was beating so rapidly, as if something truly dreadful had happened.

There was a tap on her door. 'What?' she growled.

The door opened and Sylvia stuck her head round. 'Morning!' she cried. She was wearing Marie's flowered dressing gown, and looked bright-eyed and incredibly beautiful.

'Bitch!' Annie snorted.

Sylvia looked startled. 'What?'

'You're a bitch.'

'Now, look here, Annie . . .'

'No,' interrupted Annie. 'You look here. How dare you make a fool of me by pretending Ted had missed his train?'

'But he had missed his train.'

'Then how dare you make a fool of me by pretending he wanted to sleep on the sofa?'

Sylvia looked ever so slightly uncomfortable. 'We couldn't very well say what we really wanted, could we?'

'Why not? I'm no prude.'

'Huh! Are you sure about that? Anyway, I wasn't completely sure if he did want to sleep with me. Until he came into the bedroom, I thought he could well have intended to sleep on the sofa.'