Sunlight on the Mersey

by Lyn Andrews

  Charlie felt very proud and confident as he walked up Cedar Grove that cold, frosty evening. In many windows brightly decorated Christmas trees, illuminated by dozens of tiny candles, could be glimpsed. Tasteful wreaths of entwined holly and evergreens were attached to front doors and the occasional burst of muffled laughter could be heard but little else. There were no drunks hanging on to the lamp posts or staggering along roaring carols in tuneless voices; no crowds hanging around outside the pub doors being closely watched by burly coppers, on hand for the first sign of trouble. No scruffy kids still out, begging passers-by for a penny. This was the kind of neighbourhood he wanted to live in and tonight would mark the beginning of his journey to that end.

  Florence opened the door to him, dressed in a new midnight-blue velvet dress embroidered around the neckline with silver bugle beads. A headband of the same material, similarly embellished, encircled her shiny loosely waving hair, which she’d recently had cut short. He’d liked it at once; it suited her and made her look more grown up and elegant but he’d been surprised that it had been at her mother’s suggestion.

  ‘Charlie, don’t you look smart! I do like the hat, it really suits you. Come in.’ She took his coat and hat and hung them in the small cloakroom next to the front door that boasted stained-glass door panels.

  Charlie lingered in the hall, noticing the display of Christmas roses and holly arranged in a vase on the table beside the telephone. ‘Florence, before we join your parents, can I talk to you? There’s … there’s something special I have to ask.’

  Florence blushed as she felt excitement rush through her. Oh, this had to be it! She’d been hoping and praying for months now that he’d ask her to marry him. ‘Of course, come into Dad’s little study.’

  She ushered him into the small room and he glanced around, never having been in here before. It wasn’t fancy; there was a desk half covered with papers, a chair and shelves on which reposed files and ledgers. A fire burned in the hearth, heavy velvet curtains covered the window and an electric reading lamp on the desk gave the room a cosy but subdued feel. This was obviously the hub of Edward Taylor’s business, he mused.

  ‘What … what is it, Charlie?’ Florence asked tentatively, her eyes cast demurely down but her flushed cheeks betraying her feelings.

  Charlie took the box from his pocket and reached and took her hand. ‘Florence, you know how I feel about you and we’ve been courting now for a while and so I’m asking you if you’ll marry me? I have your father’s permission.’

  Florence raised her eyes and he was delighted and relieved to see the happiness shining in them. ‘Oh, Charlie! Of course I’ll marry you. I love you so much, you know that,’ she cried. This was the happiest day of her life!

  ‘I bought this for you, Florence, I hope you like it. I know we’ll be happy.’

  Florence gasped as he took the ring and slid it on to her finger. ‘Charlie! It’s … gorgeous! Oh, I’m the luckiest girl in the world and I’m so very, very happy!’ She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. It was true, she thought, and he obviously loved her a great deal to have spent so much on her ring.

  ‘Shall we go and break the news now?’ he asked a few seconds later, gently disentangling himself.

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Florence cried joyfully.

  Her parents were sitting beside the fire, her mother holding a crystal glass containing sherry, her father’s a measure of finest Scotch whisky.

  ‘We … we’ve got something to tell you. We’re engaged, look at the gorgeous ring Charlie’s given me,’ Florence announced, holding out her left hand.

  Edward immediately got to his feet and shook Charlie warmly by the hand. ‘Congratulations! I didn’t think for a moment she’d turn you down, Charlie.’

  Charlie grinned at him. He was almost one of the family now, he thought smugly.

  Ethel Taylor had also risen and had kissed Florence, trying her best to feel happy for her daughter, who was so obviously delighted. She was also quite astonished by the ring Charlie had bought. At least if he rose to a more affluent position in life – and she hoped he would for Florence’s sake – Florence would have a ring she wouldn’t be embarrassed to wear in public. ‘Congratulations! It’s beautiful, Florence,’ she said, echoing her husband.

  ‘Well, I think this calls for something a bit special to drink and in anticipation of the happy event I purchased a bottle of champagne. It’s outside in the yard, in a bucket – chilling. I didn’t want to put it in the larder in case I spoiled the surprise,’ Edward announced.

  ‘Oh, really, Edward,’ Ethel laughed although wondering why the yard? She couldn’t see what was wrong with the larder. Her daughter never ventured in there, and she had known that Charlie was popping the question this evening, so there had been no question of the surprise being spoiled. ‘I’ll get the glasses,’ she announced, following her husband out but going into the dining room and to the china cabinet.

  The table was already laid and if she said so herself it looked lovely: tasteful and yet festive at the same time. She doubted there would be a starched, lace-edged cloth, solid silver cutlery, fine bone-china dishes, cut-crystal glasses and a centrepiece of a thick church candle, the base decorated with holly and red velvet ribbon, on the table in the Mundys’ home. She frowned. Well, they were officially engaged now so all she could do was try to put a brave face on it and pray that unless something happened to make Florence change her mind, it would all turn out well in the end. It certainly was an expensive ring he’d bought, she thought, and then stopped in the act of taking out the glasses. That ring! There was something familiar about it, she was sure. If she could just get a closer look at it she might remember. She shook herself mentally. Perhaps she was wrong. She should hurry: they’d be waiting for the champagne.

  Tom had arrived on time and bearing a bottle of port. ‘I thought a drop of this might be welcome, Mrs M.,’ he explained as he handed Kate the bottle.

  ‘That was very thoughtful of you, Tom. I think we could all do with a drop of “cheer”. Iris, get some glasses.’ Kate smiled, thinking how Tom’s presence always seemed to lift her spirits.

  Iris too smiled at him, glad he had come for his presence had lightened the atmosphere.

  ‘I left Mam peeling a mountain of spuds that she’s going to put into a bucket of cold water but I promised I’d do the carrots and sprouts when I get back. Da won’t be in from the pub until later and neither will the girls. It’s all go, Mrs M., isn’t it, at Christmas?’

  Kate smiled at him again. He’d taken to calling her ‘Mrs M.’ of late and she quite liked it. ‘You can say that again, Tom.’

  ‘I take it Charlie is out celebrating with Florence?’ Tom enquired.

  ‘He’s having supper with her parents and they’ve got something to celebrate indeed, Tom. They’re getting engaged. At least I hope they are although I can’t see Florence turning him down,’ Kate announced as she handed round the glasses.

  ‘Are they? Well, that’s something to drink to. So, she’s going to be your sister-in-law after all, Iris.’ Tom raised his glass and Iris nodded.

  ‘And you should have seen the ring he’s bought her,’ Rose put in. ‘It’s gorgeous and very expensive.’

  ‘But not new,’ Iris added but, catching a glance from her mother, went on, ‘not that that matters. Florence will love it and I’ll love having her as my sister-in-law.’

  ‘When’s the wedding then?’ Tom asked, not missing the note of disparagement in Iris’s voice.

  ‘I don’t think our Charlie’s got a date in mind yet,’ Kate said as she sipped her drink. ‘But I don’t expect it to be any time soon. He’ll have to save up hard again if he wants to find a house in a decent area to rent and to furnish. He can’t expect a girl like Florence to live in a neighbourhood like this, even though she’s far from being a snob.’

  ‘Perhaps they could live with her parents? They’ve got a big house, haven’t they?’ Tom suggested. It wasn’t uncommon.

&nb
sp; Kate shook her head. ‘They have but I can’t see her mother being happy about that idea. I still think Mrs Taylor would have liked Florence to marry someone with a better job and better prospects.’

  ‘You can’t choose who you fall in love with, Mrs M.,’ Tom said seriously, looking pointedly at Iris.

  ‘That’s true enough,’ Kate replied, smiling. The lad was obviously in love with Iris and she with him and she approved. She’d be happy if they too were to become engaged but on what he earned they might well have to start their married life here with her. There would be room, she thought, for she’d decided to let Rose go back to Tregarron next month. She’d received a note from Gwen that morning, brief and to the point. Rose could start work as a housemaid at Plas Idris in the New Year. Miss Olivia Rhys-Pritchard had been very amenable to the idea when it had been mentioned by Mrs Mathews, the housekeeper, with whom she’d had a word. It appeared that finding good, reliable staff was getting to be almost impossible.

  Later Tom reluctantly bade them goodnight and as Iris showed him out through the shop he stopped and took her in his arms.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon. I’ll bring your present,’ he promised.

  ‘I hope you haven’t got me something too expensive, Tom. I’ve only bought you—’

  ‘Don’t tell me! Surprise me! And no, it’s not expensive – much as I’d like it to be.’

  She smiled at him. ‘I’m not Florence.’

  He became serious as he kissed her forehead. ‘I know. I … I couldn’t afford much of a ring, but …’

  ‘Tom, what are you saying?’ she asked, wondering if she’d heard right or if she had misconstrued his words.

  ‘I’m trying to say that I love you and that if you’ll have me … we could be very happy together.’ He bent and kissed her.

  Iris clung to him, feeling such a surge of joy wash over her that it made her feel dizzy. ‘Of course I’ll have you,’ she whispered when she was able.

  ‘I can’t promise you much, Iris. My wage is little more than a pittance and although I’m grateful for it there’s no prospect of me getting anything else that would pay more. So it might well be years before I can afford … anything, but I just wanted to let you know and sort of make you mine.’

  ‘I am yours. There’s never been anyone else and I don’t mind waiting. I don’t even want an engagement ring, never mind one as showy as Florence’s. It’s you I love and want to spend my life with. I don’t need a ring to prove that.’

  He kissed her again. He hadn’t meant to ask her yet, it had just happened – probably prompted by the news of Charlie’s engagement – but he was glad now he had.

  When she at last drew away from him she smiled, utter bliss shining in her eyes. ‘I don’t think we should say anything to Mam yet though, it might all be a bit too much for her now. First our Charlie and now me, and Rose wanting to go off again, back to Tregarron and for good this time.’

  Tom nodded. ‘I think you’re right. Let’s keep it our secret for a while.’

  Iris hugged him; she could hardly believe it. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘You certainly will, Iris. I love you. And Happy Christmas.’

  When she’d closed the door after him she leaned against it, her hands pressed to her cheeks. They were going to get married – one day! Oh, she never thought she could feel this happy even though she missed her father so much. It was such a pity that Da had never met Tom – she was sure he would have liked him. Somehow she felt that he was looking down on her with joy and approval. This was going to be a much happier Christmas now than she had ever envisaged.

  The day had proved to be far happier for them all, Kate had thought thankfully as she put her feet up last on Christmas Night. Of course it had been painful to sit down to the meal without Bill, she’d had a hard time keeping back the tears, but Charlie had taken their minds off the situation by relaying the events of Christmas Eve at Florence’s. He’d been full of Florence’s joy that he’d proposed and how delighted she was with her ring, the real champagne her father had bought because he too was pleased, and how even her mother had at last seemed happy to accept the fact. He’d described how beautiful the table had looked and said the meal had been truly great, with roast beef and venison (which he’d never tasted before) and the trimmings, followed by a fancy meringue dessert and fresh fruit. To finish Florence’s father had poured him a brandy and given him a cigar. Oh, it had indeed been a truly splendid occasion and Mrs Taylor had invited them all for supper on New Year’s Eve. That, however, was something Kate was rather apprehensive about but she said nothing, realising that she would have to meet Charlie’s future in-laws sooner or later.

  Tom had called after they’d finished the dinner and he and Iris had gone for a walk after she’d opened her present. She’d exclaimed in delight at the lovely scarf he’d bought her, bemoaning the fact that she’d only got him socks, which were very boring and unimaginative. He’d protested that they were very useful, especially these cold mornings.

  Rose had been a little quiet and Kate had caught her staring into space on occasions looking sad and wistful, but she’d been delighted with the novels both she and Iris had bought her and when Iris and Tom had gone, Rose had settled down to enjoy the one called Treasured Dreams, which had been Iris’s choice.

  Later that evening Kate decided she would put Rose out of her misery and despite feeling exhausted and loath to stir from the comfort of her armchair, she summoned up the energy to put the kettle on.

  ‘Mam, sit down, I’ll do it. You’ve done enough for one day,’ Iris urged.

  ‘It’s just that I feel a cup of tea would be nice while we discuss your future, Rose,’ Kate persisted, getting out the tea caddy.

  Iris looked surprised. It seemed rather late to start discussing this but she said nothing.

  Rose looked at her mother hopefully but a little frisson of fear passed through her. ‘What … what have you decided, Mam?’

  ‘You know I had a letter from Gwen a few weeks ago, Rose.’

  Rose nodded. She had so much wanted to ask what Gwen’s letter had said but had been afraid to.

  ‘Then I had another note yesterday morning,’ Kate went on.

  ‘And?’ Iris asked.

  ‘And Gwen is happy to give you a home, Rose, and she’s managed to find you a job too.’

  Rose felt relief wash over her. ‘Oh, Mam!’

  ‘She had a word with Mrs Mathews, and Miss Olivia Rhys-Pritchard is willing to take you on as a housemaid,’ Kate informed her daughter.

  ‘You mean she’s going into service? Won’t she have to live in?’ Iris queried, wondering if Rose would like the idea. It certainly wouldn’t suit her and Rose had hated being a chambermaid in the hotel. Everyone knew the hours were long, the pay terrible, the time off almost non-existent and the work usually thankless and often heavy: all reasons why girls were not finding it very attractive these days, especially when they could earn more, work fewer hours and have more freedom working in shops and factories, where they were not subjected to the rigid hierarchy that existed in such households.

  ‘No, Gwen told Mrs Mathews that she would prefer to have Rose live “out” and hinted that it would save them money as they would only have to pay Rose a wage, they wouldn’t have to keep her as well. Apparently they have one other housemaid, a parlourmaid and a scullery maid to assist the cook. And of course the housekeeper and a butler and one footman.’

  ‘So, Rose and one other housemaid will be expected to do all the housework? Didn’t you tell me the house is huge, Rose?’ Iris asked.

  Rose nodded. It wasn’t what she had expected but she had to have a job. She didn’t mind housework but she knew it would be hard work, possibly as hard as being a chambermaid at Black’s, and she felt a little apprehensive, but to be able to return to Tregarron would be compensation enough.

  ‘Gwen has asked in various shops but there was nothing to be had and besides, both she and I doubted that cycling twenty mil
es a day in all weather would be good for you, Rose.’

  Rose pushed the thought of the number of rooms at Plas Idris to the back of her mind together with the fact that she’d never been in service before. ‘I won’t mind working at Plas Idris, Mam, as long as I can go home to Aunty Gwen each night.’

  Privately Iris wondered whether cleaning a house as big as that plus cycling two miles from and to the village would be any easier than cycling twenty miles a day to Denbigh to work in a shop but she said nothing for Rose was looking far more animated than she had for months.

  ‘So, I’ve decided to let you go, Rose, as long as you’re happy to work there,’ Kate concluded.

  Rose got up and threw her arms around her mother. ‘Oh, Mam! I’m so happy and thank you.’

  Kate managed a tired smile. ‘You know you can always come back if you want to.’

  ‘I know, but I’m sure I’ll be as happy there as I was last time. When … ?’

  ‘The second week in January, Gwen has told them you’ll be starting. You can go over a few days before to settle in with Gwen, get your uniform and have your duties explained to you. That will give me time to get your things ready too,’ Kate added.

  ‘Time too to go to supper at Florence’s on New Year’s Eve,’ Iris added, wondering if, after Rose had gone, she should tell her mother that she and Tom Morrissey had come to an understanding.

  That night as she pulled the quilt up around her ears Rose felt happy for the first time in months. She was going back to Tregarron, to the tranquillity, to the cosy comfort of Gwen’s cottage Y-Bythin and to the somewhat faded splendour of Plas Idris and its beautiful grounds, which she was certain would look just as lovely in winter as they had in summer. She determined that she would not complain no matter how hard she found the work; it was only housework, after all, just on a bigger scale. From what she remembered of Mrs Mathews, she hoped she’d find her fair and considerate. In about ten days she would be leaving Liverpool for ever but apart from leaving her mother and Iris, she would have no regrets.