Liverpool Annie (8 page)

Annie felt the urge to weep. She stayed at her mother's feet and laid her head on her lap. Slowly, surreptitiously, she slid her arms around the slim legs until she was hugging them tightly.

They stayed that way for a long time. Then Annie felt her body tingle as there was a soft, almost imperceptible movement, and Mam was gently stroking her head.

'Oh, Mam!' she whispered.

There came the sound of Dad's key in the door, and the hand was abruptly removed. When Annie looked up, her mother's head was turned away and her eyes were closed.

She scrambled to her feet, heart thudding, and was in the kitchen by the time Dad came in. What did it mean? Had it been a charade all these years, a sham, as Dot suspected? Why did Mam stop when she'd heard the key?

Annie let the clothes rack down and began to feel the washing, removing the items that were dry, spreading the still damp clothes out so they'd be ready for ironing by tomorrow. Her hands were shaking as she pulled the rack up and wound the rope around the hook in the wall.

Could it be that Mam really was so full of a mixture of hate and love that she'd deliberately shut herself off from the world just to punish Dad? Or maybe it was herself she was punishing for leaving Johnny alone. Either way it wasn't fair, Annie thought bitterly.

In the end, she decided she'd probably imagined the whole thing. Mam hadn't been stroking her head, not really. It had merely been an involuntary action and she didn't know what she was doing.

Any other explanation didn't bear thinking about.

On Christmas Eve, Annie set off with Sylvia's record tucked under her arm and permission from Dad to stay out late - not that Marie, who came home at all hours, ever asked. After the Grand had closed they were all going to Midnight Mass, even Bruno, who, said Sylvia, had promised not to sneer. He'd offered to bring Annie home by car. Annie had been looking forward to the evening ever since Sylvia had suggested it.

'If you've nothing else to do on Christmas Eve, why don't you come and have supper? We could play records and talk.'

Supper! Annie hadn't realised you could ask someone to supper, and they were going to have a glass of wine with the meal!

Although it was only half seven, through the window she could see the Grand was already packed with customers. Every table was occupied and there were crowds massed around the bar. The noise was deafening.

She went round the side and rang the bell, and had to ring a second time before Sylvia answered. To Annie's surprise, she wore a plain black dress and a white apron. The scratch on her cheek had faded to pink.

'Oh, Annie!' she cried dramatically. 'How I wish you were on the telephone and I could have prevented you from coming!'

Annie's heart sank. 'What's wrong?' she asked, hoping her awful disappointment didn't show on her face.

'Two of the waitresses haven't turned up.' She dragged Annie into the lobby. 'We are all at sevens and eights at the moment.'

'Sixes and sevens.' Annie made an attempt at a smile.

'There's a dinner for thirty in the Regency Room and a party in the Snug. I'm so sorry, Annie, I was really looking forward to tonight, but I can't desert Cecy when she only has one helper.'

'I'll help,' offered Annie, praying the offer would be accepted. She would do anything rather than return to Orlando Street.

'Sylvia!' Cecy shouted impatiently. 'The soup's waiting.'

'Coming!' Sylvia shouted back. She turned to Annie, looking sceptical. 'Another pair of hands would be more than welcome, but it's not a very exciting way to spend Christmas Eve.'

'I don't mind a bit what I do.'

Sylvia still looked sceptical. 'Are you sure?'

Annie nodded with all the enthusiasm she could muster. 'Positive!'

'In that case, hang your coat up and come into the kitchen.'

'Sylvia! ' Cecy screamed.

The kitchen was a long room at the back which ran the entire width of the hotel. Several pans, lids rattling, steamed on the eight-ringed stove. Wearing a white overall, a red and perspiring Cecy was carving a massive turkey. A middle-aged woman dressed like Sylvia was just leaving with a tray laden somewhat precariously with bowls of soup.

'Annie's come to help,' said Sylvia.

'Take those sandwiches to the Snug,' Cecy snapped.

'I'll show you.' Sylvia picked up a tray of soup. As they went upstairs, she said, 'My grandparents are asleep in all this chaos. Their plane was held up, the train was late and they're exhausted. That's the Snug.' She nodded towards a door on the left.

Annie knocked. There was a buzz of voices inside,

It no-one answered, so she cautiously opened the door

d went in. The room was thick with smoke. A dozen

ople in armchairs seemed to be engaged in a furious

gument with everyone else. A dozen hands reached

r the sandwiches and she found herself holding a

agically empty plate.

A voice called, 'I say, miss, we'd like another round

drinks.' The man turned to the others. 'What are you

ving?'

'I'll have a beer.'

'Me, too.'

'Whisky and ginger for me.'

The orders came thick and fast and Annie did her best

memorise them; four beers, three ciders, a whisky id ginger, two gin and tonics, a Pimms No i, an ange cordial. Repeating the order under her breath, she raced back

the kitchen. 'Four beers, three ciders . . .' She arched wildly for paper and pencil and wrote it all )wn with a sigh of relief.

'Whew!' She mopped her brow. 'The people in the lug want these,' she said, handing the list to Cecy. 'Take it to the master in the bar,' Cecy said cuttingly, ay it's for his bloody Marxist friends. Once you've )ne that, there's sausage rolls to take up. I daren't give em all the food at once, else they'd eat the lot and still k for more.'

After trying several cupboards and a lavatory, Annie lund the door to the bar. It was like walking into a all of noise. She gave the order to a tall, incredibly indsome man with smooth jet-black hair and the face ■ a Greek god, whom she assumed was Bruno. 'It's for the people in the Snug,' she yelled. 'Who are you and why aren't you in uniform.^' His ancing brown eyes belied the apparent curtness of the iiestion.

'I'm Annie, Sylvia's friend,' Annie explained. 'I've got to rush, I've something else to do.'

She had 'something else to do' for the next three hours. It wasn't how she'd expected to spend Christmas Eve, but she enjoyed herself immensely. She made more sandwiches when the bloody Marxists declared themselves on the verge of starvation, and helped wash and dry the dishes when they appeared out of the Regency Room in great numbers, thirty of everything.

It was almost half ten by the time Cecy sank into a chair, crying. 'Why did I let Bruno buy this place? I've never worked so hard in my life.' Her eyes lighted on Annie. 'What are you doing here.-*'

'Who do you think looked after the bloody Marxists?' Sylvia laughed.

'Was that you, Annie, dear? I was too busy to notice.'

'Is it all right if I go now, Mrs Delgado?' The other waitress had removed her shoes and was wearily massaging her feet.

'Of course, Mrs Parsons. Would you like a lift home?' Cecy was gradually becoming her normal charming self.

'No, ta. It's only round the corner.'

'Now, what do I owe you? The master insists I pay double for anti-social hours, so five pounds should do nicely. Is there much in tips?'

'There's a pile of silver from the Regency Room.' Sylvia pointed to the plate of coins on the table. 'You take it, Mrs Parsons.'

'Oh, I couldn't, miss. You did half the work.' The waitress eyed the money longingly.

At Sylvia's insistence, Mrs Parsons emptied the coins into her bag. 'Happy Christmas!' she cried happily as she left.

'The bloody Marxists didn't leave a penny,' Sylvia

)rted. 'I bet they'd say the workers should be better d and not rely on tips.'

They're just too mean to put their hands in their :kets.' Cecy looked disgusted. 'Annie! I seem to recall ed-haired young person dashing in and out all night j washing loads of dishes. I insist on paying for your rd work. You weren't here as long as Mrs Parsons, t you didn't get a single tip.' She handed Annie a five und note.

But I didn't expect to be paid,' Annie said faintly. It would have cost twice that if the other waitresses d turned up.' Cecy adamantly refused to take the »ney back.

Ta very much,' gulped Annie. Five pounds! 5runo appeared at the door. 'How did things go, rling?'

Don't darling me,' Cecy snapped. 'We've been •rked off our feet whilst you've been in your element lind the bar.'

Bruno laughed and blew a kiss. Despite Cecy's cross •rds, she smiled and blew one back. Annie sighed, :ause it seemed terribly romantic. They obviously ed each other very much.

I suppose I'd better wake the old folks ready for iss,' Cecy said wearily, 'but how anybody can sleep this din is beyond me. As for you pair, help Lirselves to food. There's wine opened in the fridge.' iylvia piled sausage rolls and mince pies onto a plate. 3me on, Annie. I'm dying to hear my record.' Halfway upstairs, she paused. 'You can see every-ng going on from here. It's how Bruno keeps an eye the bar when he's not there.'

/Vnnie hadn't noticed the little oblong window in the .11 before. The girls sat on the stairs and peered ough. The bar was more crowded than ever and 3ple were still coming in. A few customers were

singing drunkenly and there was the sound of breaking glass.

'Normally, we'd be closed by now,' Sylvia explained, 'but there's an extension because it's Christmas Eve. It's not usually so crowded, either. Scarcely any of these are regulars and one or two are getting out of hand. Bruno will throw them out if they continue. He's very particular who he allows in his pub.' She pointed. 'See that lot over there! They look awfully common and are very much the worse for wear.'

Annie followed her gaze. Half a dozen men and two young women were at a table in the centre of the room. As she watched, one man knocked a glass onto the floor with his elbow, but was too engrossed in the woman next to him to notice. The woman said something and the man grinned and kissed her full on the lips.

Oh, Jaysus! Annie felt her blood run cold. The young woman was Marie! She wore a tight-fitting black jumper, emphasising her budding breasts. Annie gasped as the man on her other side angrily pushed the first away, and it looked as if there could actually be a fight, Marie appeared quite unconcerned. She seemed to be enjoying herself, and threw back her head, laughing uproariously, as the second man dragged her into his arms. The first got up and made his unsteady way towards the Gents.

'Is something the matter?' Sylvia asked.

Annie nodded numbly. 'The girl in the black jumper is me sister!'

Sylvia frowned. 'But you said your sister is at Grenville Lucas and she's younger than you!'

'That's her. That's our Marie. She's only thirteen.'

'But she looks years older,' Sylvia gasped. 'Shall I tell Bruno? He'll throw them out immediately. He's strict about that sort of thing.'

['d sooner you didn't.' Annie felt unable to watch )ther minute. What on earth was she going to do )ut Marie?

Come on, Annie,' Sylvia said gently. 'I'll play my V record and you can tell me all about it.'

vas half one when Annie let herself in and she felt lost cheerful again. She'd told Sylvia everything, m living with Dot and moving to Orlando Street, to im stroking her head - or possibly stroking her head le other day. It was a relief to share her worries with neone else.

)he crept upstairs and felt in the dark for her night-:ss so as not to disturb her sister, but as her eyes got :d to the darkness, she realised Marie's bed was pty and her heart sank. Where was she? Despite being so tired after all her hard work, she ildn't sleep. She tossed and turned, thinking about • sister. They weren't 'boys' she'd been with, but >wn men. Did they know she was thirteen? eventually she began to doze, but was jerked awake a sharp noise. She sat up, trying to work out what the ise had been when it came again. Stones were being own at the window. Marie!

\nnie got out of bed. Her sister was in the yard about throw another stone. She flew downstairs and let her 'Where the hell have you been?' she demanded. Out and about,' Marie said airily. 'Ta, sis. I forgot ; key and I didn't want to wake the old fool up.' 'He's not old, and he's not a fool,' Annie hissed when ly were in the bedroom. 'He's a poor helpless man ing to do his best for us.'

■Really!' Marie said sarcastically. She threw her >thes on the floor and pulled on her nightdress, oodnight, Annie. Merry Christmas,' she said in the ne sarcastic voice as she got into bed.

'I saw you in the Grand tonight,' Annie said accusingly.

Marie hiccupped. 'Did you now! And what were you doing in the Grand, Miss Goody Two-Shoes!'

'Me friend Hves there. I was helping in the kitchen.'

'Honest!' Marie sat up. 'You're friendly with that Italian girl? What's she like?'

'I'm the one asking the questions,' Annie snapped. 'What were you doing with those horrible old men? They looked at least twenty-five.'

Marie snorted. 'Mind your own business!'

'No, I won't. I felt ashamed, seeing them paw me sister in public. Things aren't so bad at home that you have to do horrible things like that. You could have stayed in and watched television.'

'You didn't!'

'I was working,' Annie said virtuously.

'And what do you mean, things aren't so bad at home?' Marie guffawed incredulously. 'Are you blind or something? It's Christmas Eve, and if we hadn't put those decorations up, there'd be no sign of it here. There never has been, not even when we were little; no presents by our beds, nothing.' She leaned forward and said fiercely, 'As soon as I'm old enough, I'll be out this house like a shot, and I'm never coming back.'

Annie sighed. There seemed little she could say because Marie was right. She was drifting off to sleep again, when a small voice tinged with desperation and misery said, 'I've got to have someone to love me, Annie. That's what I was doing tonight, looking for someone to love me.'