Liverpool Annie (7 page)

'I'm awful sorry,' Annie mumbled.

'Are you truly?' Sylvia looked at her keenly.

Annie nodded her head. 'I'm sorry about everything.'

Sylvia's lovely face broke into a smile. 'In that case, why don't you come in and sit down, Annie - it is Annie, isn't it?'

'That's right.' Annie entered the room and sat in an armchair. The suede coat Sylvia had been wearing lay over the arm.

'I think my coat's ruined,' Sylvia said sadly. 'Bruno bought it for me because he said England would be cold.'

Annie saw the coat was scored with little jagged marks. 'Bruno?'

'My father. It cost two hundred thousand lire.'

'Jaysus!'

Sylvia laughed. It was an attractive laugh, like everything else about her, deep and faintly musical. 'That's not as expensive as it sounds, about a hundred pounds in English money.'

'Jaysus!' Annie said again. Her coat had cost £8.9S.iid. 'If you use a wire brush, the marks won't show so much.'

'Perhaps,' Sylvia shrugged. 'It's my own fault. I was only showing off. I wore my most elegant dress and Cecy's boots as a way of thumbing my nose at those awful girls. Why should I look drab to please them?'

It was Annie's turn to laugh. She forgot that until very recently she'd been one of the awful girls herself, albeit unwillingly. 'You couldn't look drab if you tried!'

Sylvia tossed her head conceitedly and looked pleased. Her eyes met Annie's for a long moment, and in that moment, Annie knew the ice had been broken. There was no need for more explanations and apologies. Sylvia had forgiven her and from now on they would be friends.

'Is this room all yours.''' Annie had only just noticed the bed tucked underneath the white sloping ceiling. The room was large, almost twenty feet square, thickly carpeted from wall to wall in cream. Somewhat incredibly, because Annie was unaware such a thing was possible, the fresh daisy-sprigged wallpaper was exactly the same pattern as the frilly curtains and the cover on the bed. There were a wardrobe and dressing table in pale creamy wood, a desk and two armchairs.

'It's what's called a bedsitting room,' explained Sylvia.

'It's dead gorgeous!' Annie breathed. 'It's like a film

star's.' Sylvia even had her own gramophone with a stack of records underneath. Amidst the paraphernaHa on the dressing table, the silver-backed mirror and hairbrush, several bottles of perfume and pretty glass ornaments, stood a pearl crucifix with a gold figure of Jesus. Sylvia was Catholic. It meant they had something in common.

'What's that?' She pointed to a small wooden shield on the wall.

'Our family coat of arms,' Sylvia explained. 'Please don't tell anyone at school, but my father is a Count. He has another, much larger shield in the bar, and thinks it a great joke to tell everyone he's a Count, then tell them he's a communist. Bruno is very gregarious; he loves arguing, particularly about politics. That's why he bought the Grand, so he would have an audience for his views. He's not interested in money. We already have pans.'

'Pots,' said Annie. 'You have pots of money, not pans.'

There was silence for a while, then Sylvia said shyly, 'What are you doing on Saturday, Annie?'

'Nothing.' Annie had decided to have no more to do with Ruby Livesey. The decision would cause unpleasantness when she returned to school, but she didn't care. She and Sylvia would face it together.

'I haven't bought a single present yet. I wondered if you'd like to go shopping in Liverpool? We could have lunch and go to the cinema.'

'I'd love to!' cried Annie. 'Having lunch' sounded dead posh. If she did the washing on Friday, she'd have Saturday to do as she pleased.

Cecy came in with coffee and a plate of chocolate biscuits. She yelped in horror when she saw her daughter's scratched face, and immediately fetched disinfectant and cotton wool.

'I caught it on a tree,' Sylvia explained.

'You silly girl!' Cecy said fondly as she dabbed the wound.

Annie would have loved a room like Sylvia's, and a two-hundred-thousand lire coat, but what she would have loved most of all was a mam who cared if she came in hurt. 'Mam wouldn't notice if I came home carrying me head underneath me arm,' she thought drily.

At ten o'clock on Saturday morning, Annie waited on Seaforth station for the Liverpool train. Sylvia was catching the five past ten from Waterloo and they would meet in the front compartment. It was colder than ever. A pale lemony sun shone, crisp and bright, in a cloudless blue sky.

Annie thought of the rack in the kitchen which was crammed with clothes she'd washed the night before, the larder full of groceries, and the beef casserole slowly cooking in the oven. There was nothing for Dad to do when he came home from work. He could read the paper or watch sport on the recently acquired television which had been bought at Annie's insistence. Even Marie stayed in one night to watch a play.

She stared at the signal, willing it to fall and indicate the train was coming, and did a little dance because she had never felt so happy. Next week, it would be Christmas and today she was going into town with her friend! On the platform opposite, a porter watched with amusement.

'Someone's full of the joys of spring, even if it is December,' he shouted.

The silver lines began to hum, the signal fell, and a few minutes later the train drew in, and there was Sylvia, exactly where she'd said she'd be! She wore a red

lohair coat and a white fur hat and looked every bit as appy as Annie.

.iverpool was glorious in its Christmas splendour, .arols poured out relentlessly from every shop and the avements were crammed with people laden with arcels struggling to make their way along.

The first thing they did was buy a copy of the Echo. In he Kardomah over coffee, they excitedly scanned the ist of films. They had to finish shopping in time for the fternoon performance.

'Which one do you fancy?' asked Sylvia.

'You say first.'

'I'd love to see Three Coins in a Fountain. It's set in lome and I miss Italy awfully.'

'Then that's what we'll see.'

'Are you sure?'

'Positive,' Annie said firmly. 'I saw Rossano Brazzi in Attle Women and I thought he was dead smashing.'

'Next time, you can have first choice. Now, as soon IS we've finished our coffee, you must take me to jeorge Henry Lee's. According to Cecy, it's the finest hop in Liverpool.'

On her few excursions into town, Annie had never 'entured inside George Henry Lee's, deterred by the nind-boggling prices in the window. Once there, Sylvia )egan to spend at a rate that took Annie's breath away; I black suede handbag for Cecy, a silk scarf for Bruno, a luffy white shawl for her grandmother.

'My grandparents are flying over for Christmas,' she explained. 'Now, what shall I get for Grandpapa?'

They went to the menswear department, where, after nuch deliberation, she chose a long-sleeved cashmere pullover. 'Aren't you going to buy any presents?' she isked Annie after a while.

'Not here,' Annie said, embarrassed. She'd managed

to save nearly five pounds by assiduously putting aside a shilling a week from her pocket-money for a whole year. 'I'll get mine in a less expensive shop.'

Sylvia was profusely apologetic. 'I'm so tactless! Shall we go somewhere else? You lead the way.'

They linked arms as they made their way towards the exit. At the jewellery counter, Sylvia paused. 'Are we going to exchange presents? Those bracelets are very elegant. I'd like to buy one for you.'

The bracelets were diamante, huge dazzling stones in a chunky dark gold setting. They were very elegant indeed, but they were also f4.19s.6d!

'No, ta,' Annie said quickly. 'They're lovely, but your present must cost the same as mine. I couldn't afford that much.'

Sylvia nodded understandingly. 'What about these pretty little pendants? Nine and elevenpence. Is that too much? I haven't got the hang of English money yet.'

'That's half an English pound.' Annie stared at the pendants on a display card on the counter. There were ten different designs, tiny enamelled flowers no bigger than a sixpence on a fine gold-plated chain.

'This one would suit you perfectly, an orchid.' Sylvia pointed to the second pendant down, a red and blue and gold flower. 'You are like an orchid, Annie, you seem to change colour all the time. One minute your hair is red, then the light changes and it's gold. Your eyes are different, too; blue, then grey, then blue again.'

Annie felt as if she could cry. No-one had ever paid her such a lovely compliment before. 'I'd like it very much,' she whispered.

'In fifty years' time,' Sylvia said sagely, 'you will see this little orchid in your jewellery box, tarnished, faded and old, and will always be reminded of Sylvia Delgado and the day she bought it for you.'

'That's a very profound remark from such a young

ady!' the elderly assistant said, wrapping the orchid in issue paper and tucking it inside a cardboard box.

'Thank you,' Sylvia said demurely.

Annie noticed one of the pendants was shaped like a ose. She'd never bought a present for her mam before, t seemed a waste of time. 'I'll have a pendant, too,' she aid impulsively. A rose for a Rose!

Later, when they were having their lunch in Owen Dwen's restaurant - special Christmas fayre, roast :hicken and plum pudding - Annie said, 'Why didn't ^ou go to a private school, seeing as you're so well off?'

Sylvia made a face. 'Because Bruno doesn't believe in )rivate education. He considers it a basic right which hould be the same for everyone, rich and poor alike, vio-one should be allowed to pay for better teachers, )etter schools. He's the same with most things. When Hecy had me, he insisted she use the local hospital, vhere they left her in labour for days because they were ;o backward. Then she was stuck in a ward with peasant women who hated her. That's why I am a lone :hild. She had such a terrible time, she swore she'd lever have more children.'

'Bruno'd get on with me Auntie Dot and Uncle Bert, rhey're in the Labour Party.' Bert was chairman of the ocal branch.

'I doubt it,' Sylvia said darkly. 'He hates socialists ilmost as much as he hates fascists. Don't ask me *vhy, it's something to do with state ownership and 3anks and shares and capitalism.' She glanced at her Tiinute gold watch. 'We have half an hour before the film starts. Just time enough for you to show me St George's Hall.'

Annie gaped. 'What on earth do you want to see that for?'

'Bruno said it's one of the most beautiful buildings in Europe.'

'Is it really?' Annie had never noticed anything remarkable about it, 'I haven't bought you a present yet!' She'd got dad a tie, earrings for Marie, a box of handkerchiefs for Dot and tobacco for Uncle Bert. 'I told you, I'd like those red gloves.' Annie screwed up her nose. 'But they'll wear out.' 'What else do you expect gloves to do?' 'It means one day you'll throw them away. I'd like to get you something permanent, like my pendant.'

'Maybe we'll see something on the way to St George's Hall.'

But by the time the curtains closed on Three Coins in a Fountain^ and Frank Sinatra crooned the last notes of the haunting theme song, Annie still hadn't bought Sylvia a present.

Sylvia was in tears. The picture had made her feel homesick. 'The music is so beautiful,' she sniffed. 'I could listen to it for ever.'

Annie had a brainwave. 'I'll buy you the record for Christmas! In fifty years' time, when I look in my jewellery box and think of you, you can play Three Coins in a Fountain, and think of me!'

It was an anti-climax after the glorious day to walk into the house in Orlando Street: like entering a tomb, Annie thought miserably. The television was on without the sound and Dad looked up, but didn't utter a word of greeting. Mam's face was turned away. Annie wondered if they spoke to each other when they were alone.

Marie was out, as usual. Annie could go out later if she wished. She'd been invited to a party, but as Ruby Livesey would almost certainly be there, she decided to stay in and watch television.

She went upstairs to unpack the presents. She still had Sylvia's record, and had been invited to the Grand on

hristmas Eve to get her pendant. She opened the box Dntaining Mam's rose and touched the little petals ith her finger. Downstairs, her father's footsteps )unded in the hall and the door slammed. He must be Ding to the corner shop.

Annie was never quite sure afterwards what rompted her to do what she did. In fact she could ^member nothing between Dad slamming the door and nding herself standing in front of her mother, gazing own and marvelling at her girlish face. How incredibly retty she was! She hadn't aged a bit, not like Dad. In ict, she looked much younger than Cecy, who, :;cording to Sylvia, spent a small fortune on creams to eep the wrinkles at bay. Annie noticed the almost tiildish curve of her chin, the way her long dusky lashes ;sted on her smooth cheeks. It was such a shame, she lought sadly, such a waste.

'Mam,' she said loudly. 'I've got you a present.'

Mam didn't stir. It was as if Annie had never spoken.

'I've got you a present, Mam,' she said again, even )uder, but still there was no reaction. She leant down nd twisted the frozen face towards her. 'I've got you a resent. It cost nine and elevenpence and you've got to ike it off me,' she shouted.

Annie fell to her knees until the face was level with er own. It was of tremendous importance that she lake her mother hear. 'Look, Mam, it's a pendant, a Dse.' She took the pendant out of its box and dangled it y the chain. 'A rose for a Rose. I bought it specially ecause it's so pretty. Please, Mam, please take my resent.'

Mam opened her eyes and looked directly at her aughter, and Annie stared deep into the pools of grey, eeing little shreds of silver and gold that she'd never nown were there. Mam gave an almost audible gasp, s if she'd never seen Annie before.

'Let me put it on for you, Mam.' Annie's hands trembled as she reached behind and fastened the clasp. Mam's hands went up to her throat and she began to finger the little pink rose.

'There!' Annie said with satisfaction. 'It looks dead nice.'

'Thank you,' Mam whispered.