Queen of the Mersey (13 page)

‘I’ll thank her for you,’ Gwen promised. It had been agreed that Laura and Vera weren’t to know how thoroughly obnoxious Mrs Merton was. It would only make them worry, yet it didn’t bother the girls a bit.

‘Anyway, Gwen,’ Laura said warmly, ‘it’s you who does all the work. That meal was delicious and I know the children have become very fond of you.’

Gwen flushed with pleasure and said they were no bother and she loved having them. ‘I don’t know what I’ll do when they’re gone.’ Her eyes rested, not on the girls, but on Jimmy Nicholls.

At first, it seemed as if they wouldn’t get home for Christmas. With December came snow, several feet deep, covering most of the British Isles. The roads were impassable. As soon as it was cleared, more snow would fall, but on the Friday school broke up, Miss Larkin announced that two coaches were leaving Bootle the next morning and would hopefully arrive in the square about midday. Their families had been told to expect them. ‘Let’s pray it doesn’t snow tonight,’ she added. ‘I want to be home as much as you do to spend Christmas with my parents.’

Everyone must have prayed very hard. That night, the snow remained in the heavens and next morning the road through Caerdovey was relatively clear, though snow was still banked in dirty heaps at the side and the pavements were covered with a thickly frozen layer.

As soon as they arrived in Glover Street, Mary made straight for the Monaghans, and Laura came to the door of number twenty-two. ‘I thought I heard voices,’ she cried delightedly. ‘I’ve been coming out to look for you for ages. I’ve got the kettle on.’

‘It looks dead pretty.’ Queenie breathed a sigh of pure happiness. She was home!

The living room was drenched with paper chains and a warm fire burned in the grate, which Laura said wasn’t as big as she would have liked, but fuel was difficult to get at the moment, ‘Along with all sorts of other things, tea for instance, and sugar. You can’t get fresh fruit for love nor money, not that I mind. The Merchant Navy’s got more important things to do than bring luxuries into the British Isles. However, months ago, I put my name down with the butcher and we’ve got a lovely big chicken for our Christmas dinner.’

No, Roddy wasn’t coming home, he couldn’t get leave, she went on, her voice faltering slightly, when Hester asked if Daddy would be there. ‘You’ll be pleased to know he’s now a First Lieutenant in the Royal Artillary. He’s sent cards – there’s one for you, Queenie – and presents, but I can’t put them under the tree because we haven’t got one. I’ll put them beside the beds with the ones from Santa Claus on Christmas morning.’

They had cottage pie and jam tart for tea. It felt strange, preparing a proper meal, Laura said. ‘I make do with things like beans or sardines on toast when I’m alone, and never bother with a pudding. I’m usually too tired to eat.’ Her job was very exhausting. She was a riveter in an aircraft factory in Kirkby, which was quite skilled work. ‘It was murder at first, but easy now I’ve got the hang of it.’

Vera and Albert came over later to say hello. Vera said indignantly that Mary had complained the meal wasn’t as nice as the ones Gwen made. ‘I told her, if that’s how she felt, she could go back to Caerdovey and spend Christmas with Gwen. Needless to say, she ignored that. She’s too busy being petted to death by all and sundry.’

The Monaghans were still there when the new residents in the flat upstairs came down bearing a bottle of sherry; two brothers, Eric and Ben Tyler, both in their thirties, and Eric’s son, Brian, who was fourteen. The Tylers were from Newcastle, Eric was a widower, and he and Ben were electricians who’d come to Liverpool to work on the docks. Brian had passed the scholarship to grammar school at eleven, and had transferred to Merchant Taylor’s in Crosby. When they’d first come, Eric had asked Laura if she’d do their washing, but she’d refused.

‘Cheek! They expected I’d look after them, being the only woman in the house.

Next thing, I’d’ve been doing their cooking too. I told them they could do their own washing, that I worked just as hard as they did.’

Queenie saw that Ben, the younger brother, who was quite handsome, though not as handsome as Roddy, kept throwing Laura admiring little glances, but Laura made no sign that she’d noticed.

On Christmas Day afternoon, it was Queenie’s turn to be in receipt of admiring glances when they went over to the Monaghan’s for tea.

‘You’ve changed,’ said Charlie.

‘You’ve turned into a proper bobby dazzler,’ Victor claimed, looking at her speculatively. He was the best-looking of all the Monaghan boys.

‘You look different, Queenie,’ said Tommy, who’d made fun of her mercilessly in the past. ‘You’d never dream you still had a funny arm.’

‘She’s a teacher now,’ Vera beamed. ‘We’re all dead proud of Queenie, aren’t we, girl?’

Queenie didn’t answer. Never, not in a million years, had she thought the day would come when she would be embarrassed by so many compliments.

This had been her first real Christmas, she thought in bed that night. Last year, and all the years before, there’d been no presents, nothing so grand as chicken for dinner. The day had been no different from any other, except that Mam was out much longer because the Black Horse had an extension or something, and stayed open until midnight.

This year, she’d got loads of presents; a handbag from Laura, a purse to match from Hester and Mary, which had loads of pockets, and Vera had bought her a lovely notebook with a swirly cover, a box of pencils and a silver sharpener.

‘I thought it’d help with your teaching,’ Vera said with a twinkly smile.

But the thing that Queenie treasured most was the scarf that Roddy had sent. It was soft blue chiffon covered with little gold moons and stars and went perfectly with the navy blue coat Laura had got her from Paddy’s Market.

She’d saved enough pocket money to buy everyone presents and had had a marvellous time in Woolworths where nothing cost over a tanner, getting scent for Laura, gloves for Vera, a book each for Hester and Mary, a big white hanky with ‘R’ embroidered on the corner for Roddy and the same with an ‘A’ for Albert. She bought a belt for Jimmy to keep up Hugh Jones’s trousers, two pretty hair slides for Tess, and a wind-up car for Pete. She remembered Jimmy had promised to come and see them tomorrow and Laura thought there’d be enough chicken left to have with chips. ‘And I’ve got a tin of peas,’ she added.

Queenie supposed that before she’d met Laura she must have been very unhappy.

She hadn’t realised she was unhappy. She hadn’t known it was possible to feel any different to the way she felt then, not until she’d discovered what happiness was and that the years spent with Mam had been dead miserable. She snuggled under the covers and resolved never to be miserable again, too young to realise that misery, and happiness, weren’t just dependent on herself, but on other factors, including people over whom she had no control. Indeed, the very next day brought some unpleasant news she hadn’t been expecting.

When Jimmy came, he had on a thick jersey and trousers even shorter than the ones he’d worn when he first arrived in Caerdovey, though he still had his hat.

He was shivering and his legs were blue with cold.

‘What’s happened to Hugh Jones’s trousers and tweed jacket?’ Queenie gasped.

‘Come and sit by the fire. You look frozen to death.’

‘Me mam pawned them to pay for the Christmas dinner,’ Jimmy replied with a brave grin. ‘The pawn-broker wouldn’t take me hat.’

‘But that’s not fair.’

‘Yes, it is, Queenie. Mam got two bob and we had pigs’ trotters and roast spuds and a sandwich cake for pudding, otherwise we’d have just ended up with scouse.’

‘Gwen will be dead upset when we go back.’

‘Our Tess and Pete are going back, it’s two less mouths for me mam to feed, but I’m staying put. Mam reckons it’s about time I started work. I’ll be fourteen in March.’

‘You can’t go to work in them trousers. Oh Jimmy!’ Queenie wanted to cry.

‘Caerdovey won’t be the same without you.’

‘Bootle’ll seem dead funny without you, Queenie, girl,’ Jimmy said soberly.

‘I’ll miss our den and the shore. I’ll even miss me old lady.’

Laura came in and also wanted to know what had happened to his nice warm clothes. ‘The ones that you found in that den of yours?’

‘His mam pawned them to pay for their Christmas dinner.’

Sensing a hint of disapproval in Queenie’s voice, Jimmy immediately sprang to his mam’s defence. ‘Me dad hasn’t worked in years ’cos of his lungs. If Mam didn’t work herself to a standstill, cleaning, there wouldn’t be a penny coming in.’

‘What’s wrong with your dad’s lungs, Jimmy?’ Laura asked gently.

‘It’s something called emphysema. It gets worse all the time.’ There was a suggestion of tears in Jimmy’s kind eyes. ‘Sometimes, he can hardly breathe at all.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ Laura squeezed his hand and Queenie rather hoped she’d offer to redeem Hugh Jones’s clothes from the pawnshop, but realised it would be a waste of time. The minute Mrs Nicholls needed money, they’d be pawned again. Laura, however, had a better idea.

‘Would you like me to lend you my husband’s working jacket and trousers?’ she asked. ‘There’s a couple of flannel shirts too. But I’d like them back in case Roddy needs them once this damn war is over, so you must tell your mother they’re not to be pawned.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Oliver,’ Jimmy said politely. ‘I’d like it very much.’

Queenie gave him his belt and the things for Tess and Pete and hoped they wouldn’t end up in the pawnshop, too.

At the beginning of January, only one coach was waiting outside St Joan of Arc’s to take the evacuees back to Caerdovey.

‘What’s happened to everybody?’ Queenie asked Miss Larkin, who seemed to be in charge.

‘Their parents have decided to keep them in Bootle. Last September, we had over sixty children. Now we’ve only got twenty-five. If you must know, Queenie, I wish I was staying myself.’

Even Mary nearly hadn’t come. Vera had said it was up to her. Given the choice of staying at home, her mam out at work all day, her dad putting in all sorts of funny hours, Billy in the Army, George and Dick expecting their call-up papers any minute, her other brothers all with jobs, apart from Caradoc who’d be leaving school soon and getting a job himself, Mary had decided she’d sooner be in Caerdovey with her friends.

‘You’ll still want me to teach the children two mornings a week, won’t you?’

Queenie asked Miss Larkin anxiously. It would be unbearable if she lost that as well as Jimmy.

‘Mrs Waters and I won’t exactly be worked of four feet this term, but some extra help is always useful. Unlike us, you can give the little ones individual attention.’

‘I’ll miss him,’ Gwen said tearfully when she learnt Jimmy hadn’t come back.

‘I’ll miss him something awful.’

‘We all will,’ Queenie assured her. ‘The den won’t be the same without Jimmy.’

Caerdovey seemed to have lost a lot of its charm. It was too cold to play on the shore, where the waves rippled ominously, as if they were terribly angry about something. Their bedroom was freezing, and the only warmth to be found was in the kitchen. Gwen gave them an old paraffin stove for the den, but the heat it gave off was pathetic and the room stank. Hester claimed the smell made her feel sick.

The months dragged by. There was more snow, heavier than before, and day after day the town was muffled underneath a thick, white blanket, the silence unnatural and faintly threatening. Laura and Vera found it impossible to visit, not knowing if they’d get there and back within the day.

Suddenly, it seemed to happen overnight, it was spring. The sun came out and the snow disappeared as if by magic, revealing surprisingly lush green fields.

Little shoots thrust their way bravely through the black soil of the gardens, except the garden of The Old School House where there were no flowers, though Queenie was pleased to find the suggestion of buds on the apple trees, which she found quite heartening. Soon, it would be Easter and they would be going home to Bootle and this time she was determined to persuade Laura to let them stay.

‘Queenie, dear, you don’t know the half of it,’ Laura said earnestly. ‘It’s not true that nothing is happening as you said. Hitler has just invaded Norway and Denmark and you wouldn’t believe the number of British ships that the Germans have sunk. Thousands of seamen have lost their lives. Russia has attacked Finland. I’m not even sure what that means, I thought Russia was on our side, but it might have been the other way around. Oh, Queenie,’ she cried, joining her hands together as if she was about to pray, ‘I can’t make you go back to Caerdovey, it’s entirely your decision, but I hope you’ll do it as a favour to me. I feel so much happier, knowing you and Hester are safely tucked up in Wales – and Mary, too, of course. Now that Roddy’s in France, in the thick of things, as it were, he’d be upset if I told him Hester was back in Bootle.’ She paused for breath. ‘We’re short of so many things that you’re probably not aware of; meat, eggs, butter, which Gwen manages to get from the local farms. It’s nice to know you’re eating properly. By the way, I’m very grateful for the things she sent. Those pork chops look lovely and juicy, and the eggs are huge. You must take Jimmy’s fruit cake round later, and the shortbread from his old lady. And don’t let me forget to write a note to take back, thanking Gwen for her kindness.’

‘All right,’ Queenie sighed.

Laura groaned. ‘I’m being selfish, aren’t I? Putting my peace of mind before your and Hester’s happiness.’ She chewed her lip worriedly. ‘I tell you what, if there still hasn’t been an air raid by the end of the summer term, I’ll assume Hitler has no intention of bombing Bootle and you can leave Caerdovey for good.

How does that suit you?’

Mrs Merton had a wireless. When she was in bed, Queenie frequently heard the subdued sound of voices downstairs, or music, singing, laughter. She began to listen daily to the one o’clock bulletin, not caring if Gwen found out or if she was discovered by Mrs Merton in her over-furnished sitting room where the wireless had its own special table with curved legs.