Sunlight on the Mersey (3 page)

‘How are you feeling now, Rose?’ Bill asked gently as he set the jug and tumbler on the beside table. She certainly still looked feverish. ‘Has the medicine helped at all?’

Rose tried to sit up but the effort made her grimace. Bill took her hand in his. ‘You just lie there, I’ll get you another pillow and help make you more comfortable. Your mam said you were to drink a full glass of this.’

He found another pillow and placed it behind her and then filled the glass and held it for her as if she were seven years old instead of seventeen.

Rose managed a smile; she loved her father dearly and knew he was worried about her. ‘I feel a bit better knowing exactly what’s wrong with me but it will be a while before I get back to normal.’

He nodded his agreement. ‘Take things easy and you’ll be fine. Perhaps when you feel better you could read, that would help to pass the time. I’ll ask Iris if she’ll go to the library and get you some books. I’d go myself but I think she will have a better idea of what you enjoy than me. With everyone at work and your mam in the shop you’ll need something to occupy you, once you’re on the mend.’

Rose leaned back against the pillows and nodded. If she
hadn’t been feeling so ill the idea of lying here reading all day would have been heaven. She loved reading, especially romances whose heroines lived far more interesting and pampered lives than she did and always married a handsome, adoring and often wealthy man. It also helped to take her mind off Jimmy Harper. She dozed off, comforted by the doctor’s assurances, her father’s presence and the knowledge that her days at Black’s Commercial Hotel were in the past.

‘Did the doctor come, Mam? What did he say? How is she?’ Iris fired the questions at her mother as she came into the kitchen at the back of the shop, put her bag on the dresser and took off her jacket and hat. She ran her hands through her thick auburn hair, which she’d recently had cut in the new short style, something of which her mother had strongly disapproved. They’d had words over it. She had dark eyes like her father but she also had his height and build, something she frequently complained about, bemoaning the fact that she wasn’t slender and petite like Rose.

‘Don’t just leave your hat and bag on the dresser, Iris; I’ll be needing those dishes off it soon. She’s a bit better. It’s rheumatic fever but she’ll get over it,’ Kate informed her, handing Iris the offending cloche hat and clutch bag and shaking her head at the sight of her daughter’s shorn locks. Iris was far too self-willed and independent in her opinion and working in that munitions factory appeared only to have increased those traits. It seemed as if all the changes in society could be blamed on the war.

‘That’s a relief! Shall I go up and see if there’s anything she needs or wants, Mam?’ Iris was genuinely relieved. Rose had been really ill these last twenty-four hours. Although they were very different in temperament and sometimes bickered, she was closer to her sister than she was to her brother Charlie; for the past few years she had found him somewhat difficult to live with, although she did sympathise with him after what he had been through.

‘Don’t be too long up there, Iris. I need you to help me with supper,’ Kate instructed. ‘Your da will be in a bit later tonight, he’s trying to sort out his stock, and when our Charlie comes in I want him to give your da a hand or we’ll be having our meal when it’s time to go to bed.’

Iris smiled fondly at the sight of her sister propped up by pillows and looking far better than she had done that morning. ‘You’ll go to any lengths not to have to go to work, Rose, although I have to say this is a bit drastic!’

Rose grimaced. ‘Don’t torment me, Iris. I still feel awful.’

Iris sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Poor you, but you will get better, Mam said so. Is there anything you want? I’ve not to stay up here gossiping. Da’s staying on late and when our Charlie gets in he’s going to get roped in to help.’

Rose managed a smile. ‘He won’t be very happy about that, knowing our Charlie.’

‘He’s never really happy about anything these days, unless of course it’s counting his money,’ Iris replied scathingly. ‘Mam is always saying she doesn’t know where he gets his miserly streak from.’

Rose nodded. ‘Mam says I’m not going back to Black’s and that’s a huge relief, and for more than one reason.’

Iris nodded sympathetically; she knew how hurt Rose had been by Jimmy Harper’s betrayal.

‘I think it’s going to be ages before I can even get out of bed. When I’m feeling better, would you go to the library for me, Iris?’

‘Aren’t you the fortunate one?’ Iris joked. ‘Lying up here with your head in one of those terrible romances you love so much while I’m stuck behind the counter at Frisby Dyke’s measuring out knicker elastic and other such bits of finery. Of course I’ll go and get you your books but only when Mam thinks you’re up to reading. Now, I’d better go back down before she starts yelling up to me. I’m still not in her good books for having my hair cut! Mind you, if I’d asked her before I had it done she’d have forbidden it.’ She grinned, taking in her sister’s long, dark locks, which were now very tangled. ‘You should have yours cut, Rose. This style would suit you and it’s so easy to manage.’

‘I might think about it,’ Rose replied. At that precise moment she didn’t really care how she looked. She just wished all the aches and pains would disappear and she could sleep.

It was nearly half past eight when they finally sat down at the table, much to Kate’s annoyance for it had been a very long and trying day and she was worn out.

‘You should get rid of half the stuff you have in the loft over the shop, Da. It’s never going to be redeemed now and
it’s just old clothes and rubbish,’ Charlie stated, helping himself to more boiled potatoes to accompany the large slice of meat and vegetable pie already on his plate. He was now twenty-one and strongly resembled his father in looks and build if not in nature.

‘I don’t think it’s very charitable to call people’s belongings “rubbish”. They paid good money for that stuff and it’s unfortunate that they haven’t been able to redeem it. Besides, what am I supposed to do with it?’ Bill asked.

‘Give it to a rag-and-bone merchant, at least you’d get a few bob for it. Better than having to burn it,’ Charlie answered with his mouth full.

Kate glared at him ‘Where are your manners, Charlie Mundy?’

Charlie shrugged but refrained from replying until he’d swallowed his food. God, but Mam was so picky sometimes, he thought irritably. Didn’t she understand that after you’d spent a year in the stinking trenches, standing knee deep in filthy muddy water, deafened by the incessant pounding of the heavy guns, your guts turning to water with sheer terror and the horror of seeing your mates being blown to bits around you, things like ‘manners’ seemed pretty unimportant? ‘I just thought it would be easier to get rid of as much stuff as you can. Make life easier. You’d be better able to keep track of things and turn that rubbish into hard cash. There’s no point in working if you don’t make a decent profit.’

‘None of us earns what you would exactly call a fortune,’ Iris stated succinctly, knowing her brother didn’t earn much
more than either herself or Rose. ‘Hardly anyone makes what you call a “decent profit”.’

Charlie glared at her. In his opinion Iris had far too much to say and mainly on matters that did not concern her. He decided to ignore her remark. ‘If you’d let me work with you, Da, I’m sure with your experience and my organisation we could really make a difference.’

‘We’ve been through this time and again, Charlie,’ Kate said firmly. ‘You have a steady, decent job with the Blue Funnel Line. Granted as a clerk it’s not well paid yet, but in time if you work hard you’ll get promoted and then your pay will improve. You are very fortunate they took you back after the war. How many lads of your age have a good job – or any job for that matter? There isn’t enough to be made from that business to employ you as well, especially as times are so desperately hard.’

‘Your mam’s right, lad. The way things are going folk will have nothing left to pawn and I’ll be seriously out of pocket. We are more fortunate than so many around here, thank God, but we still need all of you to be earning a wage,’ Bill added quietly.

‘What’s our Rose going to do when she’s better, Mam? She said you won’t let her go back to Black’s,’ Iris asked.

‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,’ Bill stated firmly.

‘I hope you’re not thinking of letting her stay at home doing nothing? You’ve just said we all need to work,’ Charlie said quietly. That certainly wouldn’t be fair on either him or Iris but then Rose had always been the spoilt one.

‘Like your da said, we’ll wait until she’s over this and then see what she’s capable of doing. I never thought that job was suitable for her constitution,’ Kate said firmly. In fact an idea had already formed in her mind; she had been thinking about it all afternoon and intended to discuss it with Bill later, when they got a moment to themselves.

Charlie continued his meal in silence, thinking that he would make a far better job of running the pawnbroking business than his father did. He’d make it pay better than his da, who was too disorganised and far too soft with a lot of his customers. If he’d learned one thing during the time he’d spent in the army it was that you looked after yourself first and foremost because nobody else would. He’d come through it but he’d grown up and learned some hard lessons. Charlie Mundy was going to look after number one and he had vowed that somehow he would obtain a healthy bank balance and a position of respect in society, neither of which he would achieve as a humble shipping clerk. He was careful with what money he earned and was saving hard, but at present he could see no way of gaining a foothold on the ladder to prosperity.

Iris, too, finished her meal in silence wondering just how long it would be before Rose would be well enough to work again. She didn’t particularly enjoy working in a shop but knew perfectly well she was fortunate to have a job at all. What would her sister be able to find in the way of future employment?

K
ATE DIDN’T GET THE
chance that evening to discuss with Bill the idea that she’d been mulling over. After supper, when the dishes had been washed and put away, Charlie – after having read the headlines in the
Liverpool Echo,
which proclaimed that there seemed to be increasing industrial unrest and unemployment but also that the Prince of Wales was to open the newly refurbished Town Hall – engaged his father in a discussion about the merits of Liverpool Football Club over those of their rivals Everton. Kate knew from experience such a debate would be long and heated, so she had decided to go up and settle Rose for the night and then retire herself. She was exhausted and would have to be up again at four next morning to go to the market.

Rose had a more peaceful night. When Kate looked in on
her next morning, she told her mother the pains in her limbs had abated somewhat and she felt a little better in herself. It appeared that the worst was over, Kate thought thankfully as she went down to open up the shop.

The morning was fine and the bright May sunlight that bathed the street lifted her spirits a little. She arranged the stock and swept the floor and as she brushed the dust off the doorstep she leaned on the broom handle for a few seconds looking down the street. They all looked exactly the same, these streets of dilapidated two-up, two-down terraced houses, she thought. They should have been demolished years ago. Their brickwork had been eroded by time and the elements and was blackened by the soot from the factories, domestic chimneys and those of the Clarence Dock Power Station; their paintwork was scuffed and peeling; the stone steps were cracked and broken. The women who occupied them broke their backs in an effort to keep their homes clean, even scrubbing their front steps daily. They had no modern facilities to make the task easier either, she mused. No electricity, only gas light; no hot water – some had no piped water at all and had to use standpipes; no bathrooms and only a tiny, dark scullery to serve the whole household, which frequently numbered ten or more. Washing had to be taken to the public wash house and then carted home and hung to dry on the lines strung across the street or on a rack suspended from the kitchen ceiling. It was no wonder in such conditions all manner of diseases were rife.

Yet again she contemplated her good fortune. They did
have electricity and water; she had a copper boiler in the wash house; she had a large kitchen-cum-living room which was comfortably furnished, even though sometimes it did seem cramped, especially when they were all in there together. She would have liked a proper parlour but you couldn’t have everything. In fact she didn’t know of anyone who did have a parlour that was used solely for entertaining; space was at a premium and they were often used as bedrooms. Her scullery wasn’t a bad size and it had a window, a large stone sink and shelves and they didn’t have to share the privy in the yard with three or four other families. Yes, she was fortunate but she wanted a better life for her children: a better future, better living and working conditions, better wages. Yet she was realistic enough to know that for the present they were fortunate to have a roof over their heads, food in their bellies, decent clothes on their backs and jobs.