Queen of the Mersey (56 page)

They get on really well. I think she tells him dirty jokes when I’m not there.’

‘Perhaps I could pop in and see him from time to time,’ Roddy suggested. ‘I’ve always liked Theo.’

‘That’s a lovely idea, Roddy. He likes you too.’ She sighed. ‘As soon as I’ve finished this tea, I’ll say goodbye to Hester and Ned and go home.’

‘I’ll always be there for you, Queenie,’ Roddy said warmly. ‘You were a wonderful friend to Laura. I’ve never forgotten that.’

‘And you can count on me, Roddy.’ She’d been a pathetic little creature when they first met and he’d seemed the handsomest man on earth. She’d fallen head over heels in love with him. Despite everything that had happened since, it still felt odd to be talking to Roddy Oliver as if they were equals.

Chapter 19

Theo was asleep when Queenie got home. Her mother crept out of the bedroom, her finger to her lips. ‘You’ll be pleased to know I’ve persuaded him to see the doctor,’ she whispered. ‘He’s coming first thing in the morning.’

‘Thank goodness for that.’ Queenie breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Was it a nice wedding?’

Agnes Tate was unrecognisable as the woman who used to live in Glover Street.

Her hair was a pretty silvery grey, and she wore a smart, black and white striped shirtwaister frock. An expert Bridge player, her presence was eagerly sought in card-playing circles.

‘It was lovely, one of the nicest weddings I’ve ever been to.’ She couldn’t have been more pleased that Hester had found happiness at last.

Later in the evening, after her mother had gone, and Theo was still in bed, she heard a sound in the bedroom and immediately went in. She’d been checking every few minutes, watching him sleep; twitching restlessly, muttering things that didn’t make sense.

This time, she found him wide awake, getting out of bed. She fussed around, shoving slippers on his feet, urging him into his Paisley silk dressing gown.

‘My head hurts,’ he complained. He didn’t ask about the wedding and must have forgotten she’d been.

She stroked his face. ‘Would you like some tea and aspirin, darling?’

‘Yes, please.’ He frowned. ‘Are Lila and Stephanie here?’

‘The girls haven’t been here for years, Theo.’ Not since she’d come to live with their father. She felt alarmed. ‘They live in Calderstones.’

‘Of course!’ His face saddened. ‘I feel a bit muddled. I had a dream about my children. It’s a long time since we’ve seen Steven.’

‘It was last Christmas,’ she reminded him. ‘We met up in New York, remember? He was doing that television thing.’

His face creased. ‘Did we?’

‘Yes. It’ll come back to you soon. Now sit down and I’ll make the tea.’ She thanked God that the doctor was coming tomorrow.

Theo insisted on taking three aspirin with the tea, as two had no effect on his headaches, not that three helped much either. They sat in silence for quite a long time, his face working furiously, as if he was having an argument with himself. Queenie watched, frightened. What was going on in his mind?

‘You know, Queenie,’ he said suddenly, and much to her astonishment. ‘I think Freddy’s has had its day.’

‘What a thing to say! Of course it hasn’t.’ She recognised something had to be done about the shop. Some of the departments looked as if they were stuck in a time warp, and the entire place was beginning to look rather shabby. But it was Theo himself who’d turned down her suggestions, and those of other senior members of staff, that modernisation was necessary to attract new, younger customers, as their old patrons gradually died off.

‘We haven’t kept up with the times,’ Theo said seriously, as if he’d only just realised. ‘We’re half a century out of date. It’s my fault for resisting any sort of change. I thought Freddy’s would go on for ever exactly the way it always has. But now,’ he continued, shaking his head sadly, ‘it’s too late to do anything about it. It would cost a fortune to modernise, we’d have to close for months. We’d lose all the staff.’ He spoke as if he’d already formulated the words in his mind and knew them off by heart.

‘There’d be no need to close,’ Queenie said forcefully. ‘One floor could be done up at a time. We’d just have to move departments for a while until it was all finished.’

‘But it’s not worth it, Queenie, my love,’ he said with a sigh. ‘We’re in the wrong place. Bold Street’s no longer what it was. It doesn’t draw the people with money like it used to.’

That was true. Bold Street had changed character over the years. The expensive shops had closed and been replaced with cheaper ones. Meanwhile, George Henry Lee’s, Freddy’s main rival, had taken over its neighbour, Bon Marché, and was now twice as big. St John’s Market had been developed and was full of little boutiques. Owen Owen’s, C & A Modes, Marks & Spencer, these too were part of a dense shopping circle, while Freddy’s was tucked out of the way in Hanover Street, around the corner from Bold Street where the rich no longer came.

‘Let’s talk about it in the morning, after the doctor’s been,’ she suggested.

Theo nodded and yawned. ‘I think I’ll go back to bed.’

‘I’ll be with you in a minute.’

He was asleep when she got in beside him. At least this time his breathing was regular. She lay, listening to the soft, in-and-out breath, wondering how she would feel if Theo were genuinely ill, if he died, if she had to sleep in this big bed for the rest of her life on her own. She would go to pieces, she knew she would. He had been the sweetest, most precious of lovers and she would never cease to miss him grievously. She edged across the bed until their bodies were touching, only slightly so as not to disturb him and, after a while, she also fell asleep.

When she woke, it was still dark, and the place beside her was empty, but warm to the touch. ‘Theo?’ she called, sitting up.

There was no reply. She got out of bed, checked the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, even the two spare bedrooms, rarely used. He wasn’t in the flat, but the front door was slightly ajar. She went out, looked in his office and all the other offices, but there was no sign of Theo.

Queenie went down the brightly lit stairs, her bare feet making no sound in the still, silent building. In the restaurant, she called his name, and again on the fourth floor as she wandered through the ghostly furniture department, half expecting to find him fast asleep on a bed or in one of the armchairs, although she could think of no reason for him to do such a thing.

‘Theo? Theo?’ she called when she reached Gentlemen’s Clothing and Footwear on the floor below, jumping nervously whenever she came face to face with a mannequin, or glimpsed a dark form silhouetted against the window. ‘Theo, where are you?’

By now, she was beginning to panic. She kept feeling as if she’d just missed him, that he’d not long left as she’d gone in. There was always the faintest scent of the musky aftershave he used hanging in the air. She reached Ladies’

Exclusive Fashions and he wasn’t there, nor in Ladies’ First Floor Fashions. He was nowhere to be seen on ground level either. If he wasn’t in the basement, she’d alert the night watchman, ask him to turn on all the lights.

He was in the basement, wandering up and down the aisles, a strange, shambling, shuffling figure, just visible in the light from the stairwell, picking up the occasional item; a book, a toy, a dish from the china section.

Queenie watched for a long time as he peered intently at the thing in his hand, before putting it back and choosing something else to examine, just as closely.

‘Theo,’ she said softly, not wanting to frighten him, ‘what are you doing?’

He turned and came towards her, shoulders bent like an old, old man. ‘Queenie! I was taking a look around. I’m sorry, were you worried about me?’

‘Of course. You used to tell me off for taking midnight excursions.’ It was an odd thing to do in the early hours of the morning. His voice sounded odd too, as if he were having difficulty forming the words with his mouth.

‘You were sleeping so peacefully. It seemed a shame to wake you,’ he said in the strange voice.

He had reached her by now and she took him in her arms. ‘Come along, darling, let’s go upstairs. You feel cold. You should have put your dressing gown on,’

she chided, shivering herself, just in her nightie and with nothing on her feet.

She led him over to the lift, pressed the button and heard it spring to life on another floor, like a monster from the deep, clicking and clanking its way towards them, accompanied by a whirring noise. It fell into place in front of them, the doors opened.

Once inside, she could see Theo properly and felt shocked. His face was paper white, incredibly shrivelled. His mouth had fallen open and he seemed unable to close it. He was shaking and all of a sudden could hardly stand. She supported him until they reached the top floor, through the door, into the flat, into the bedroom, where she helped him into bed, then got in beside him, tucking her arm around his waist, nestling her head against his shoulder.

‘Could we go to Kythira, do you think?’ he asked.

‘If you want, darling.’ The summer Sales were starting soon, but other people could see to them.

‘I’ll ring Trefor Jones tomorrow, tell him to get the boat ready and bring it to Liverpool.’

Trefor Jones hadn’t captained Queen of the Mersey for almost twenty years, but she didn’t bother to tell him that now. Anyroad, it would be quicker to fly and sail back, the sea would be calm in summer. All of a sudden, she ached to be in Kythira, convinced that Theo would quickly get better living in his father’s villa, with the blue sea visible from the windows, the vines and the trees, the warm, invigorating air.

‘I’d love that, Theo,’ she said softly.

He raised his head, it was an effort, and kissed her. ‘Goodnight, my darling girl.’

‘Goodnight, Theo. I love you.’

Queenie had no idea what time it was he died, but when she woke his body was cold beside her. She held him for a long time, her brain too numb to register anything other than the fact that Theo had gone and this was the last time he would lie in her arms. A few days later, after the post-mortem, she was told it was a brain tumour that had killed him.

Roddy Oliver kept true to his word. During the days that followed, he proved himself the very best of friends. Remembering his words, said only a matter of hours before at Hester’s wedding, he was the first person Queenie phoned after the doctor and he came immediately. The next person was her mother.

‘He was such a kind man,’ Agnes sobbed.

It was Roddy who went to the Vandos house in Calderstones and told Irene that her husband was dead, Roddy who took Queenie to the undertakers and helped choose a coffin, the best that money could buy, Roddy who telephoned the Liverpool Echo to inform them of Theo’s death. The staff in the shop were wonderful, but they weren’t close friends, not like Roddy. She asked him not to tell Hester about Theo. She and Ned were on their honeymoon in the Lake District, but would be back in time for the funeral. ‘It would only cast a shadow over their holiday.’

Two days later, a message came from Irene Vandos in the form of a hand-delivered note. In her heavy, black scrawl, like a row of crazy blackbirds perched on a wall, she requested that the funeral service be held in St Nicholas Greek Orthodox Church in Princes Road.

It’s where Theo and I were married, where our children were baptised. I feel you should pay regard to my wishes. After all, I am Theo’s widow, not you.

Also, the children and I would like to see him before he is buried. There is room for him in the grave with his mother and father.

‘Buried!’ Queenie groaned. ‘He never went near church. He wasn’t the slightest bit religious. I wanted him cremated with just a simple service and people getting up to say how much he meant to them. I know it’s what he would have wanted.’ She shrugged. ‘Still, it wouldn’t hurt to let Irene have her way. She lost Theo a long time ago. I’ve had him all these years.’

‘You’re right,’ Roddy murmured. ‘It wouldn’t hurt.’

She looked at her watch and asked what he was doing there at seven o’clock at night? ‘You’ve been here all day for two days in a row. Aren’t you expected at work?’

‘I’ve told them I’m taking a week off. They won’t mind, I’m owed it. I haven’t taken a proper holiday in years. There didn’t seem much point.’

Queenie wrote back to Irene and told her Theo’s body was in hospital awaiting the post-mortem and she was free to go ahead with arrangements for a service in the church of her choice. ‘I have already arranged for a coffin and as soon as the post-mortem has been carried out, Theo will be moved to Austin’s Funeral Parlour in Brownlow Hill. Your family are welcome to see him there.’ She sealed the envelope and stamped it with her fist. ‘I just hope they don’t turn up when I’m there – or the other way around.’

She felt that she was coping extremely well. There hadn’t been time to succumb to the tears that were never far away, or think about the future without Theo.

She had taken over his office and sat behind the desk with the twelve apostles carved on the front. The door was always open to anyone who wished to come in.

Judy Channon and Gladys Hewitt came together to offer their sympathies. They were the only ones left at Freddy’s of the War Widows’ Club; Mona was dead and the others had retired a long time ago. Gladys had risen to head of Accounts and Judy was still with Ladies’ Exclusive Fashions.

Queenie embraced them both. ‘Thank you for coming.’

‘We know how you must be feeling, luv,’ Gladys said tearfully. ‘And we loved Mr Theo, everybody did.’

Letters of condolence poured in, the phone never ceased to ring. Her mother answered the phone in the apartment and kept appearing with cups of tea or coffee and little snacks.

On Friday morning, Theo’s doctor rang with the result of the post-mortem. ‘If it’s any comfort to you, at least he died a relatively peaceful death.’

Just then, Queenie couldn’t judge whether it was a comfort or not. Theo hadn’t suffered, as some people did, for months, even years. Perhaps, in the course of time, she would come to see it as a comfort.

She conveyed the news to Roddy. ‘Shall I ring Austin’s and ask them to collect him from the hospital?’ he asked.