The Orphan Daughter

by Sheila Riley

  ‘Do you want me to check if everything is alright?’ Angus asked, but Evie shook her head and gave a false laugh. ‘Just my overactive imagination,’ she assured him and, taking her word for it, he bade her good day.

  Once inside, Evie lit the gas mantle. The weak glow did nothing to enhance the bareness of the austere room and picking up the poker from the hearth, she checked there was nobody else in the house. She could see no evidence of a break-in, or that anybody had been in the house while she was at the shops. So, relieved, she busied herself lighting the fire before Lucy got in from school, although it seemed the thought of her sister made her suddenly appear, red-cheeked and breathless.

  ‘Where did you go?’ Lucy asked accusingly. ‘The one day we got sent home early, because the school pipes were leaking, you’re out and every door’s locked.’

  Evie breathed a huge sigh of relief and almost laughed out loud. Thank God for Lucy, she thought. It must have been she who opened the back gate!

  ‘So, where did you go?’ Evie asked, suddenly afraid Lucy had been tempted to go skating on the canal with Bobby Harris.

  ‘We played football on the debris. We used Mrs Harris’ gable end as the Liverpool goal post and the bridge wall as the Everton goal post.’ Lucy beamed.

  ‘And who won?’ Evie asked putting the poker on the fender in readiness for the centre pages of last night’s Evening Echo, only to see her sister’s face descend into a scowl.

  ‘I was up three–nil and Missus Harris called Bobby in for causing too much noise.’

  ‘I hope you didn’t give her any lip,’ Evie said, knowing her young sister would have a misplaced sense of injustice for her friend, considering the debris an unofficial play area.

  ‘I would never do that, Evie,’ Lucy said, feigning shock at such a thought, ‘even if she is a moaning auld windbag.’

  ‘Lucy…’ Evie’s tone held a warning. Nevertheless, she kept her back towards Lucy so she could not see the uncontrolled smile that forced its way to her lips. What could she say? Ada was a moaning auld windbag. ‘Don’t let Bobby hear you saying that about his mother.’

  ‘He knows what she is, right enough,’ said Lucy taking off her coat and hanging it on a nail behind the cellar door. Evie shook her head, contented. What was that child going to be up to next?

  There was a heavy knocking on the front door as Evie, Jack and Lucy sat down to eat the meatless stew known locally as blind scouse. Meat, even fatty scrag ends and offal, was in short supply, but there were no complaints from her brother and sister who tucked into the hot meal knowing they were lucky to get it.

  Evie knew her savings would not stretch to paying another week’s rent and buying food. It was either one or the other. But she couldn’t let the kids go hungry. Jack’s leg was better, and she was glad of the wood he brought home each night, reluctant to ask where it came from as they needed all the help they could get, to eke out the meagre ration of inferior coal. Although Jack was out for much of the day, Evie didn’t have the guts to ask what he did with himself, worrying she might not like the answer.

  ‘I’ll go,’ Jack said, scraping back his chair. But Evie put her hand on his arm. Something akin to excitement ran through her veins. If this was her mother, turning up drunk and clinging to another fella for emotional and financial support, she would give her more than a piece of her mind. She would give Rene her marching orders.

  When Evie dragged the door open, she was surprised to see Connie huddled on the step.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind me knocking, Evie,’ Connie said, pulling her coat more closely around her shoulders.

  ‘Come in,’ Evie said stepping to one side allowing her neighbour into the lobby, which was lit only by the weak beam of the gas lamp outside.

  ‘I won’t take long, I know you’ll be having your tea,’ Connie said apologetically. ‘But I’ve got something to ask you, I hope you don’t mind?’ Through the partially opened door of the kitchen, she could see the place was a damn sight cleaner than it had been the last time she was here.

  The conspicuous fragrance of floor polish lingering on the shiny linoleum, skirting boards and spotless paintwork, vied with a tantalising aroma of something tasty wafting through the house.

  ‘Come into the kitchen where it’s warmer,’ Evie said, about to lead the way when Connie put her hand on her arm to stop her.

  ‘I’m not stopping,’ Connie said, giving Evie’s heart cause to quicken. She hoped Connie hadn’t come to complain about Lucy and young Bobby Harris throwing snowballs earlier. Evie had warned them to keep away from the tavern, knowing she couldn’t afford to replace a broken window.

  ‘I was wondering if you could do a few hours in the pub each day?’ Connie asked.

  A job? Evie had never given a thought to serving behind the bar. That was her mother’s job. But a job was a job and she was in no position to turn her nose up at money coming in. No matter how it was come by.

  Evie let out a sigh of relief. Connie hadn’t come to complain about Lucy throwing snowballs after all.

  Evie explained, ‘I have to tell you, Connie, I’ve never even drank inside a pub, let alone served in one. But I’m willing to give it a go if you don’t mind showing me what’s what.’

  She had hoped to secure an office job, now the arctic weather was beginning to lose its bite. An office job would have been lovely and show Jack and Lucy she was someone they could look up to. She wanted to better herself. Not step into her mother’s shoes. But beggars can’t be choosers.

  ‘You won’t have to serve behind the bar,’ Connie said, putting her hand on Evie’s arm as if to reassure her. ‘Mrs Harris slipped on the ice and sprained her ankle – it’s a cleaner I’m looking for.’

  ‘A cleaner…?’ Evie pulled her cardigan around her in the draughty passageway as her spirits plummeted. She wanted to work in an office. Be someone. Make Jack and Lucy proud…

  ‘Just mornings, say eight ‘til ten?’ Connie, noticing Evie’s hesitation, hoped she hadn’t said the wrong thing. ‘I’ve heard wonderful reports of your work and you’ve worked wonders with this place, if you don’t mind me saying.’ It was true, the little house at the top of Reckoner’s Row sparkled.

  ‘We don’t have much, but we’re clean,’ Evie said with a hint of irony.

  ‘You were the first person I thought of,’ Connie said intending no offence. But that wasn’t the way Evie saw the compliment. It was obvious Connie saw her as no more than the skivvy she was. Evie put everything into her work, scrubbing, dusting and polishing from morning ’til night. ‘Susie Blackthorn said you did a thorough job at Beamers.’

  ‘Did she now?’ Evie’s forced smile did nothing to reduce the bile that rose in her throat. She still had some savings. And one thing she was sure of, she didn’t intend to clean other people’s mess for the rest of her life.

  She was nineteen years of age and when her mother returned to Reckoner’s Row, she would resume her night-school studies and get the diploma in advanced bookkeeping and accountancy that she had worked so hard for up to now. She had ambitions. She was going to be someone. But she would need her savings to pay for her tuition. Evie took a deep breath.

  ‘Eight ’til ten,’ she said. Her mind was like a number puzzle, mentally reshuffling her morning chores. ‘Would it be all right if I nip back to check on Lucy? She’s a bugger for getting up these mornings, and if I’m not here she’ll turn over and go back to sleep.’

  ‘Couldn’t Jack help?’ Connie urged, knowing Evie must be short of money by now. She knew she had savings because Evie told her, but they wouldn’t last forever.

  ‘Jack leaves earlier than Lucy,’ Evie answered quickly, plucking at the skin on the back of her hand, thinking she had blown her chance of a bit of work and felt she had to explain.

  ‘I’m worried about Jack,’ she whispered, ‘I don’t think he’s been going to school since he got back from Ireland. He’s out of here before we get up and sometimes, we don’t see him again until last thing at
night.’

  ‘I’m sure you are worrying over nothing, he’s a good lad, got his head screwed on the right way.’

  ‘What if he’s got in with a bad crowd?’ Evie’s voice cracked to a squeak, ‘I’ve got every angel and saint harassed with prayers, begging them to make sure he’s not up to mischief.’

  ‘I understand your worries,’ Connie said, ‘but the best thing you can do is ask him outright.’

  ‘I suppose I’ll have to if I want to sleep at night,’ Evie said knowing Connie was the only person who could allay her fear that the kids would be taken away again. But there was still a bit of us-and-them she could not shake free.

  ‘It can’t be easy for you…’ Connie said in her straightforward way. ‘With three mouths to feed, I thought you’d jump at the chance of a bit of extra cash.’

  Evie didn’t know if she should be insulted or humiliated at Connie’s thoughtless remark and realised she felt both. Connie obviously thought she would jump at the chance to get down on her hands and knees and scrub her floors for a pittance, and only because the charlady left her in the lurch!

  ‘Thanks for the offer, but I can’t have Lucy sagging school, as well as Jack.’ Evie opened the front door, letting Connie know their conversation was over.

  ‘Well, if you change your mind, you know where I am,’ Connie called over her shoulder, as she headed down the tiled path. Closing the door, Evie fought back tears of disappointment. A cleaner? A bloody cleaner? The money she had spent, and the effort she had put into her studies would not be wasted by mopping floors and cleaning ashtrays! She would find a reputable office and work her way to the top. If only it were that easy.

  ‘Is everything all right, Evie?’ Lucy asked when she resumed her seat at the table. ‘Your eyes are all glassy, like you want to cry.’

  ‘I’m fine, Lucy.’ Evie put on a bright smile. ‘Let’s eat our tea.’ While we still can.

  ‘I thought it might be the missus,’ Lucy never addressed her mother as such, like other children would, Evie noticed. And who could blame her? Rene was hardly the maternal kind. Letter writing was not a strong point either, she was too busy worrying about herself to keep in touch with her offspring.

  ‘I thought we’d be looking forward to a bit of fisticuffs,’ Lucy laughed, her angelic Irish lilt, deceptive to the unwary, hid a sense of humour far beyond her years. She had a way about her that made you want to smile, Evie thought, watching her young sister mop up the vegetable gravy with a slice of bread, but beneath that angelic exterior beat the heart of a maverick. She would have to keep a close eye on this one.

  ‘Have no fear, Lucy,’ Evie said looking at the cooled, unappetising mish-mash of food on her plate. ‘I’m here. Everything is fine.’

  ‘When do you think Ma will come back?’ Jack asked when Lucy took the empty plates out to the kitchen. Evie shrugged.

  ‘All I do know is, she’ll have a lot of explaining to do when she gets back,’ Evie said in a low voice. ‘I went to the police station again, but they still haven’t heard anything.’

  ‘It’s a wonder they haven’t reported her to the cruelty people,’ Jack said, unperturbed by his mother’s absence. Evie supposed that having lived away from home for seven years, the link between her mam and her siblings had weakened. After all, she thought, Mam hardly ever put herself out to go over to Ireland to visit them.

  It was left up to her to go and make sure they were well and being cared for. Not that she minded. Not one bit. Evie wished she could have stayed with them or brought them home. But it was far too dangerous. The docks and surrounding areas had taken a nightly pounding and she had to console herself with the fact she was doing the best thing for them.

  ‘Did that woman call around?’ Jack asked.

  ‘The woman from the church?’ Evie asked and he nodded. ‘She called earlier in the week, to check everything was as it should be, make sure everything was clean and that we had enough to eat.’

  ‘Did she give you the advice you were looking for?’ Jack knew Evie was worried about keeping a roof over their heads and wanted to know if the landlord could throw them all out with Mam not being here.

  ‘Yes, she said that because I am over sixteen, I am legally responsible to look after you and Lucy and as long as the rent gets paid the landlord can’t evict us without good reason, so there’s no need to worry Lucy with details.’

  ‘Her imagination doesn’t need much encouragement, right enough,’ Jack said, ‘but Ma’s been gone weeks. Somebody must have seen her.’

  18

  ‘Rene did this kind of thing during the war,’ Mim told Connie and Angus. ‘Left me high and dry behind that bar many a time. If she found a generous Yank who liked to treat her, you wouldn’t see her arse for dust.’ The longer Rene was away, the blacker Mim painted her, Connie noticed.

  ‘She’s never usually gone this long.’ Connie’s forehead pleated in a frown, she knew Evie had a lot to contend with, it was a heavy load on those young shoulders of hers.

  ‘And still no sign?’ Angus asked, having finished the delicious oxtail soup, which his landlady had made earlier. He was amused to see Mim noisily sucking meaty jelly from the bony tail of the ox.

  ‘None,’ Evie looked to her mother, grimaced and gave a little shake of her head.

  ‘You never knew what that one was up to.’ Mim paused in her endeavour to extract every morsel, holding the thick bone between her fingers and thumbs while resting her elbows on the table. ‘Kept her cards very close, she did.’

  ‘It’s unusual for women to walk away from their family, don’t you think?’ Angus enjoyed their nightly chinwag around the tea table, not to mention the priceless information he was able to glean, and the fact that Rene was involved with one of Liverpool’s most notorious, albeit slippery, villains was cause enough to be interested in her whereabouts. ‘It’s not unheard of, though.’

  ‘And how would a shipping insurance clerk know such a thing?’ Mim’s eyes narrowed. Like the rest of the borough she was naturally suspicious of strangers; around these parts it could take years to be accepted. ‘Men don’t usually bother themselves with things like that.’

  ‘She must have run away for a reason.’ Angus remained unflustered; his information gathering during the war had stood him in good stead for his latest line of work. ‘A woman won’t leave her family for no reason.’

  ‘Who said she’s run away?’ Connie asked, stirring her cup of tea. ‘What reason would she have?’

  ‘Did she need a reason?’ Mim asked with a touch of sarcasm, wondering why Angus was so interested in Rene Kilgaren. ‘What would it be?’

  ‘The usual,’ Angus answered, casually putting his cup back on the matching bone-china saucer, addressing Connie directly. ‘An unhappy marriage, debt. That kind of thing.’

  ‘If that were the case,’ Connie replied, ‘most women would have scarpered years ago. Women are a tough breed around here. They stick it out through thick and thin.’ Most didn’t have the luxury of flitting when the fancy took them.

  ‘What do you think made her run off into the night?’ Mim asked later when Connie gathered her night clothes from the fireguard, where they had been warming, wanting nothing more than to relax in five inches of bathwater.

  ‘I couldn’t say,’ Connie answered, clearing away the dishes. She didn’t want to discuss Rene in front of Angus. She knew he was more than a little interested in the locals, but Rene’s kids were not mixed-up in anything sinister. She was sure of it.

  ‘Here, let me help you with that, Connie,’ Angus said taking the tray of crockery, while Mim could not help but notice the way his eyes lit up when he spoke to her daughter.

  ‘Will you be staying in Liverpool?’ Mim asked, her imagination running away with itself. She would have to tread carefully. She wanted to see her daughter settled. Even though Connie was cracking on a bit, she was still young enough to give her grandchildren.

  But what if Angus was the one to set her daughter’s heart on fire?
And what if he wanted to take her back to Scotland? Mim hadn’t reckoned on that. The thought filled her with dread. This fella could whisk Connie away, and it would be the war all over again, with her being left alone to manage the tavern.

  ‘Rene’s a widow, so it’s not husband trouble,’ Connie said breaking into her thoughts, ‘but Evie told me that Leo Darnel is sniffing around again.’

  ‘What about debt?’ Angus knew he was sailing close to the wind, asking so many questions. He knew that no men around here troubled themselves with what they called ‘women’s jangle’. They kept their own counsel and expected to be informed only on a need-to-know basis. That way, they remained blissfully ignorant of their wives’ womanly woes.

  ‘The whole country’s in debt because of the war,’ Mim answered, ‘we can’t all bugger off.’

  ‘Aye, it cost, true enough,’ Angus replied, ‘in money and in loved ones…’ He picked up the clean tea towel and awaited the first plate. Connie experienced a rare frisson of pleasure towards Angus who offered to dry the dishes she was washing while Mim put her feet up in front of a blazing fire in the front room, listening to the wireless.

  ‘So, is this your night off?’ Angus asked, and Connie nodded. She didn’t want to speak of loss, financial or otherwise. ‘Do you fancy going to the pictures?’ he asked, and Connie stiffened. Up until that moment she had not thought of Angus in any way other than him being their lodger. She liked Angus, he was a decent man, who was good company. But he was the lodger. Look what happened when Rene’s lodger got too settled. No, Connie thought, she didn’t want to complicate matters by going on a date.

  ‘Another time would be lovely, Angus,’ she said, wishing he hadn’t asked.

  Mim looked at the clock. It was well past her bedtime and Connie was reading. Angus had just retired to his own bedroom, so she felt it was safe for her to the same.