Memories Are Made of This (8 page)

‘Dad. He's proud of you. Whereas I just remind him of the wife the old witch says he should never have married. You should have heard her go on at me on the way to the Odeon. I asked her point blank what she had against my mother and you know what she said?'

‘What?'

‘She was on the streets when Dad found her and she led him on!' Jeanette's voice shook. ‘I told her I didn't believe her. I just can't see Dad marrying a prostitute, can you?'

Hester was shocked. ‘No. He's fastidious is Dad. He wouldn't have a woman who'd sold her body, however sorry he might feel for some of those on the streets. You should have told him what she said about your mother and he'd have put you straight.'

Jeanette gave a grim little smile. ‘I just couldn't bring myself to say the word
prostitute
to him. It would appear as if I needed to ask him because I was unsure about the truth of the matter.'

‘But you'd have let him know that his aunt was telling you lies.'

Jeanette toyed with her fingers. ‘She'd talk her way out of it. She also went on about my mother being very young when he married her.'

‘She seemed old enough to me,' said Hester. ‘There were times when she got down to our level and then there were others when she was expecting you and just sat in a chair, knitting little garments with an altogether different expression, and I'd think:
You look older today, Gracie.
It was as if she realized having a child brought responsibility.'

Jeanette smiled. ‘I can see how that could be. The old witch pulled the film to pieces, as well, you know. All the way home, she was going on about the prison governor and the wardens being soft on criminals and how it hadn't been like that in her day.'

‘Typical of her.'

Jeanette nodded and gazed out of the window. ‘It looks like rain again.'

‘A blinking nuisance, the weather.' Hester sipped her tea. ‘I know it's difficult to ignore what Aunt Ethel says, but I can tell you that Dad used to smile more often when your mother was part of this household.'

‘D'you think he loved her?'

‘To be frank, I don't know. He introduced her to us as
your new mam
, so I presumed that he'd married her to look after me and Sam. I have a vague memory that our dear great-aunt wasn't at all pleased and I prayed that she would leave. She didn't always live with us. I think I remember my mother saying that Ethel had a job where she lived in once upon a time.'

‘Perhaps she was in service when she wasn't a prison wardress?' said Jeanette.

‘Maybe,' said Hester, glancing about her. ‘What happened to my Mills & Boon?'

‘It's here on the floor,' said Jeanette, bending to pick it up. She placed the book on the bed. ‘Peggy reads them. Love's young dream she isn't,' she added, scowling.

Hester cocked an eye at her. ‘They're relaxing reads. I suppose Dad was in need of a woman's affection after my mother died, and that could have been another reason why he married your mother.'

‘Well, they must have slept together for me to have been born,' said Jeanette cheerfully. ‘I wish I knew more about sex. What we were taught in biology class about reproduction makes it sound not worth bothering about.'

‘That's what grown-ups want you to believe, so you won't get into trouble. The disgrace and the pain isn't worth it from what I've seen.' Hester changed the subject. ‘Did Aunt Ethel say anything about you escaping from your locked bedroom?'

‘I didn't mention your name if that's what you want to know,' said Jeanette, smiling. ‘I gave her the impression she was getting forgetful and hadn't locked me in. She mentioned going senile and I took advantage of it.'

Hester's expression froze. ‘I must try that myself. After all, she is getting on.'

‘How old is she exactly?'

‘She must be kicking seventy at least.' Hester yawned. ‘What are you doing today?'

Jeanette grimaced. ‘I'm confined to the house because of what happened on Friday. If it wasn't Sunday, she would have me scrubbing floors. Instead, I'll be preparing the vegetables and washing dishes. By the way, Sam knows about my part-time job but neither Ethel nor Dad does.'

‘OK, but I don't know how long you think you'll get away with it,' warned Hester.

‘I wish I could—' Jeanette stopped abruptly.

Hester smiled. ‘What do you wish?'

‘I wish I could get my hands on my savings book,' said Jeanette in a frustrated voice. ‘If I had the money I'd be off like a shot. Not because I'm not fond of you, Sam and Dad, of course. All through the film the old witch kept elbowing me as if I needed to be reminded constantly what happened to girls that went astray. I wonder what she was like at my age?'

‘Or mine,' murmured Hester.

‘You should find yourself a fella, get married and leave home,' said Jeanette.

‘Talking about fellas,' said Hester, reaching for her cup of tea, ‘what about the one who was hit in the face?'

‘What about him?' Jeanette said with a sigh. ‘He'll probably be scarred for life and it's all my fault. I should have minded my own business,' she added, not for the first time. ‘I think he's a sailor. I wonder if it's possible for me to discover the name of his ship?'

‘How?'

‘I'll have to think about that.'

‘The trouble with sailors is that they can have a girl in every port,' said Hester. ‘He could also be a lousy letter writer, and a girl has to have something to cling on to for a relationship to work.'

Jeanette nodded, hoping her sister was wrong on both counts. Summer would soon be over and with only Christmas on the horizon, it would be great to have a boyfriend, even one who wasn't around all the time; someone to exchange letters with, and to talk about to Peggy, assuming they were still on speaking terms.

Jeanette was attempting to concentrate on typing a sheaf of bills of lading for various consuls throughout the world the following morning, but her mind kept wandering. She would be glad when she had finished the task. The paper was very thin and inclined to slip sideways between the rollers, and so did the carbon paper if she wasn't careful. She had come in early and checked Friday's arrivals, but the two ships that might possibly have had her rescuer amongst their crew had left on the early tide on Saturday.

She sighed and glanced out of the window, which had a view of the Liverpool Dock office. If she turned her head she could just about see the River Mersey. It looked like the weather was clearing and so she made up her mind to eat her sandwiches down at the Pierhead instead of in the windowless room where there was a kettle to make tea or coffee.

So far there had been no sign of Peggy, but then she was a staff member of a subsidiary branch of the warehousing company that employed them both, so that was not surprising.

‘I've a bone to pick with you!'

Jeanette started at the sound of Peggy's voice and thought,
Talk of the devil!
Aware that the other shorthand typist was looking their way, she whispered, ‘D'you mind keeping your voice down? I don't want everyone knowing my business.' She carried on typing.

Peggy placed a hand over the typewriter keys. ‘Ashamed are you for causing a fight and getting me and Greg into further trouble? My dad almost had a fit when a policeman came knocking at our door!'

‘Will you stop that?' hissed Jeanette, shoving Peggy's hand off the keys. ‘You've made me make a mistake and I'll have to type this out again.'

‘You should have stopped and given me all your attention,' snapped Peggy.

Jeanette glared at her as she removed paper, carbon and copies from the typewriter. ‘Say what you have to say and go. I don't want to get behind with my work.'

Peggy sniffed. ‘It's all right for you, but I'm in real trouble with my dad. He didn't half belt me one and then went round to Greg's house to tell him not to go near me. As if I wanted to see him again after what he called me on Friday night. Anyway, his dad threw a punch at my dad. Fortunately he missed because he was drunk.'

‘So what was your quarrel with Greg all about? Why did your brother hit him?'

Peggy flushed. ‘I'd rather not discuss it.'

Jeanette was disappointed. ‘It must have been really bad if your brother beat him up.'

‘Well, I'm not telling you,' muttered Peggy.

Jeanette thought about the love bites she had seen on her friend's neck. ‘Please yourself. I'm sorry about what happened, but it's not my fault that your boyfriend and his mates got violent. It's a miracle I didn't get hit in the face instead of that poor sailor. As it is he could be scarred for life!'

‘None of that was my fault! If you hadn't flirted with him, then most likely he wouldn't have interfered. Anyway, how d'you know he's a sailor?'

‘He looked like a sailor! And I wasn't flirting with him,' said Jeanette, annoyance bubbling up inside her again. She reinserted paper and carbon in the typewriter. ‘Anyway, that Billy deserves whatever he gets,' she muttered.

Peggy said moodily, ‘You would say that because your father's respectable. Billy's dad is a drunkard and is in and out of work.'

‘He didn't look like his family was hard up. That drape jacket he was wearing appeared brand new!'

‘You think it was knocked off?' said Peggy, fiddling with a pencil on Jeanette's desk. ‘I know he's been in trouble before for petty theft.'

‘There you are then,' retorted Jeanette. ‘It probably came off the back of a lorry.'

‘You could be more sympathetic for them whose life is harder than yours.' Peggy dropped the pencil.

‘I can't understand you – he's a violent troublemaker!'

‘I know! Anyway, his mother has asked Father Callaghan to put a good word in for him. He has a boxing club for the lads and does good work.'

‘Well, he failed with that Billy, didn't he?' said Jeanette in a hard voice, hurt by Peggy's suggestion that she didn't care about the underprivileged.

‘You don't know how difficult life is for some lads in our neighbourhood,' protested Peggy, folding her arms across her ample bosom in the tight white blouse that was gaping at the front. ‘I believed I could save Greg from the same kind of fate. Now it's all over! It was good whilst it lasted, but now I'll never speak to him again,' she said in a tight little voice.

Jeanette muttered, ‘Well, you're not the only one who got into trouble. Aunt Ethel poked me in the chest and locked me in my bedroom. I can't see me having a night out anytime soon. At least you've got your holiday to look forward to.'

‘With my mam and dad both having a face on them. Great!' cried Peggy, and flounced off.

Jeanette hit the typewriter keys hard, thinking most likely their friendship was at an end. Well, that was unfortunate, but she was not going to lose any sleep over it, although it could be awkward when Peggy came into the office. Perhaps it was time to look for another job. She felt fed up. After she had finished at commercial college she had seen this job as a stopgap until she decided what she really wanted to do with her life. If only she was five inches taller she would have been able to join the police force when she was twenty. It was discrimination against small women. She had once considered nursing as a career, but after a visit to a hospital she had decided that she wasn't cut out for a job that demanded a strong back, stomach and the patience and caring nature of a saint. Good training, she supposed, for marriage and kids.

As she typed, Jeanette imagined what it would be like staying at home and looking after children. Because it was not that long since she had been a kid herself, she thought it shouldn't be that difficult to take care of her own brood. Her thoughts turned to Hester who had helped rear her. No doubt that experience would stand her in good stead if she became a mother.

Jeanette rather liked the idea of being an aunt. Having the fun of playing with children without tying herself down for life too soon. But she would like a real boyfriend, one with whom she could go dancing and to the flicks, enjoy a day out at New Brighton or Formby beach in the summer.
But not if your boyfriend was a sailor who was away for weeks on end
.

‘My David who fought Goliath,' she murmured.

‘What was that you said?' asked Elsie, the other typist.

Jeanette smiled wryly. ‘I was talking to myself.'

‘We all do that at times.'

‘Have you ever been out with a sailor?'

‘Not for long. They come and go and it can feel like you're wasting half your life waiting for them to come home.'

‘Maybe that kind of life suits some women. You wouldn't have to be too fond of them, though.'

‘Hmm. And there's many a sailor just looking for a bit of fun when his ship docks.'

Jeanette remembered Ethel's words about sailors and sighed. It would be heartbreaking being parted if you loved each other, she thought. Well, it didn't look like she was likely to trace her sailor's whereabouts any time soon. She should start being sensible and put him out of her mind.

Despite having come to that decision, when Jeanette descended from her third-floor office and left the Cunard Building, her rescuer was still very much on her mind. She hoped he was not in too much pain and his wound would heal quickly. She did feel responsible for what had happened to him, because she had lied when she had said that she had not been flirting with him. Jeanette enjoyed flirting. It was fun if not taken too seriously, but Peggy had spoilt what could have been an enjoyable interlude.

Jeanette determined to banish the blues as she walked down to the river. The surface of the water dazzled her eyes and she held up a hand to shield them from the sun. Today she could so easily imagine the Mersey was the Mediterranean or the Caribbean. She had often dreamt of travelling to faraway places as she watched the ships coming and going. At the moment dreams were all she had.