Winnie of the Waterfront

by Rosie Harris

  It was a perfect evening for their trip. There was still plenty of heat left in the sun; white clouds scudded overhead, gulls swooped, and as she looked over the side of the boat the water sparkled as though it was covered with slivers of silver.

  They hardly spoke during the crossing. Winnie was absorbed by all that was happening. The Manxman was getting up steam ready for its evening crossing to the Isle of Man and two liners and a cargo ship were at their moorings. A ferryboat from Seacombe was heading across to Liverpool and one from Liverpool crossing to Birkenhead.

  Further up the Mersey, tug boats were guiding a stately steamer out as far as The Bar in readiness for the next tide when it would set off on the first leg of its journey to America.

  As the Royal Daffodil started its crossing, Sandy pointed out Seacombe, Wallasey Town Hall, Egremont Pier and Vale Park as they sailed past them. Then New Brighton came into sight, with The Tower dominating the fairground and the amusement arcade nearby.

  Within minutes they were pulling into the landing stage alongside the pier. As the gangplanks were being lowered Sandy grabbed hold of the wheelchair, and seconds later they were off the boat and he was pushing Winnie along the promenade.

  ‘Now, where do you want to go first?’ he asked eagerly.

  ‘I don’t mind, it’s all new to me,’ she laughed.

  ‘Right! Then let’s walk along the promenade towards Perch Rock, and when we reach the swimming pool on the far side of that we can have a rest and decide what we want to do next.’

  As they walked along the Ham and Egg Parade the savoury smells that wafted out reminded Sandy that one of the reasons for coming over to New Brighton was so that he could take Winnie for a celebratory meal.

  He weighed up each café and restaurant as they passed them, trying to decide which would be the best one. He wanted it to be somewhere special, yet not so grand that they would feel out of place. Winnie was wearing a pretty turquoise blouse and, as usual, a long black skirt. He had on grey flannels and a brown check jacket. He was wearing a tie with his plain white shirt so he looked respectable, he told himself firmly.

  A few yards from the swimming pool he spotted a café that stood out from all the others. It had attractive lace curtains at the bay window and the paintwork was gleaming white. Without even consulting Winnie he wheeled her chair in through the entrance.

  The proprietor came hurrying forward, frowning and shaking his head at the wheelchair. Sandy suspected he was going to turn him away so he said quickly, ‘Perhaps you could find us a spot near the window where we’ll be out of the way.’

  The proprietor hesitated. ‘Will the lady have to sit in her chair at the table?’ he enquired dubiously.

  ‘No, not if it’s inconvenient. We can leave her wheelchair out here in the passage if you would prefer us to do that,’ Sandy suggested. ‘We’d still like a seat near the window so that we can look out on to the prom, though,’ he added.

  ‘Of course, of course. I’ll take the wheelchair through to the back of the premises rather than leave it in the entrance,’ he offered.

  Sandy made sure that Winnie was seated so that she could look out of the window while they ate, then he studied the menu nervously. This sort of meal was going to be a first for him as well as for Winnie. He was more used to Harry Petty’s bar in Water Street. There you queued up for your plate of nosh and then found yourself a space on a wooden bench at one of the long oilcloth-covered tables lined up in rows in the long room. Or else he went to a milk bar where you were lucky if there was elbow room when they were busy.

  It took them a long time to make up their minds what they were going to eat. In the end, Winnie settled for roast chicken, and, after debating whether to have that or not, Sandy opted for a mixed grill.

  When it came to choosing wine they were both at a complete loss. Sandy would have preferred a glass of beer, but he realised that wasn’t what he was expected to drink in such a place. In the end they asked for a glass of house wine each. They accepted the waiter’s advice that it should be red for Sandy, as that was the right accompaniment to his mixed grill, and white for Winnie, since she was eating chicken.

  They ate in silence, savouring the delicious food and the novelty of being served by a uniformed waiter. At the same time they enjoyed the sight of boats sailing up and down the Mersey and the spectacle of people of all ages strolling along the Promenade.

  Although they had eaten a meal far bigger than they would have done if they’d been at Peg’s, Sandy insisted they should have a pudding. Once again they had difficulty deciding what it should be. Sandy finally chose apple pie and custard and Winnie went for the luxury of strawberries, served in a meringue nest and accompanied by fresh cream.

  ‘That was the most wonderful meal I have ever eaten in my life,’ she breathed ecstatically as she spooned up the last fragments of meringue and cream from her dish. ‘I shall remember it for the rest of my life.’

  Sandy agreed with her wholeheartedly. He tried not to wince when he was presented with the bill and gallantly left a tip to prove to himself, as well as to the waiter, that he was a man of the world.

  With Winnie once more back in her wheelchair they resumed their walk along the promenade, which was still thronged with people enjoying the evening sunshine. Once past the swimming pool the crowds thinned and the Mersey widened out. Several more ships were now lined up out at The Bar, waiting for the tide to turn so that they could set off into the Irish Sea and then into the Atlantic Ocean.

  ‘Would you like to go to sea?’ Winnie quizzed Sandy.

  ‘I did think about it once,’ he admitted, ‘but somehow I never got round to doing so.’

  What he didn’t add, because he thought she might laugh at him, was that he hadn’t gone to sea because he lived in hope that one day he would meet up with her again. If he was away for six months or more at a time there was very little hope of that happening, he’d reasoned.

  When they reached King’s Parade, Sandy decided it was time to turn and make their way back to New Brighton Pier. He wasn’t too sure how far they had gone, but the outline of the Liver Building on the other side of the Mersey looked very small and far away. They had watched the sun going down in a blaze of scarlet before it dipped out of sight, and now, as the light began to fade and night close in, a fresh wind had sprung up.

  Sandy felt uneasy because he still hadn’t opened his heart to Winnie, and that, he kept telling himself, was what he had planned to do. In fact, he wanted it to be the highlight of their evening out.

  As they returned and he saw the lights on the pier and the landing stage come into view he slowed down. He must ask her now or the occasion would be over and it would be too late. He didn’t want to do it while he was walking behind her pushing the wheelchair because he wouldn’t be able to see the reaction on her face.

  On the spur of the moment he pushed her chair into one of the shelters that were built at intervals along the promenade as protection from the weather on a blazing hot day, or if a squally shower suddenly swept inland.

  Sandy positioned her chair so that she was almost facing him. He took her hand and sat marvelling at how small and white it looked as it lay in his much larger one. Overcome by the enormity of what he was going to say he cleared his throat nervously.

  ‘Have you enjoyed yourself tonight?’

  ‘It’s been the most memorable night I’ve ever known,’ she told him, giving him a radiant smile. ‘I think it was wonderful of you to bring me out when I let you down so badly.’

  He frowned. ‘Let me down? What do you mean?’

  ‘I made a real hash of asking Reg Willard for that stall, didn’t I!’

  He shook his head. ‘No, that wasn’t your fault. Peg had warned me that it wouldn’t be easy. Reg guessed it was really for me, that’s why he made things so difficult. It probably wouldn’t have worked anyway. All the other stallholders who are selling second-hand stuff would probably have objected.’

  ‘What you were going
to sell was quite different from what they handle!’

  ‘They probably wouldn’t think so. We would have been bound to have women bringing in old clothes and then the women who already deal in clothes of one kind or another would have been up in arms.’

  ‘So what will you do now?’

  He shrugged. ‘Go on working for Willard until I can find myself a job that pays better wages. Or else save up and try and get a stall in St John’s Market. They have a different type of customer, though, and selling second-hand stuff wouldn’t work there.’

  ‘I’ll help you save,’ she offered.

  He gawped. Suddenly he felt elated. If she was prepared to do that, to throw her lot in with him over getting a stall, then she must feel something for him. Perhaps his dreams would come true after all. Gathering his courage, he squeezed her hand more tightly.

  ‘Winnie, there’s something I want to ask you.’

  She looked at him expectantly.

  ‘I’m not much good at this sort of thing,’ he said hesitantly. ‘I’ve never had much to do with girls and I’ve certainly never asked anyone the sort of question I’m going to ask you.’

  She frowned. ‘What are you going to ask me?’

  He took a deep breath, squeezing her hand even tighter. ‘I’m going to ask you to marry me!’

  She stared at him in open-mouthed astonishment. ‘Marry you?’ she gasped. ‘I’m not sixteen yet!’

  ‘You will be next week!’

  ‘Yes, but even then I’m a bit young to be getting married!’

  His face fell. ‘So you don’t want to marry me?’

  ‘I didn’t say that!’ She stroked his face with her free hand. ‘I think the world of you, Sandy. You’ve been so good to me I don’t know how I would manage without you.’

  ‘You don’t love me, though,’ he persisted.

  Winnie looked at him, bewildered. ‘I … I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it!’ Her mind avoided the question. ‘I feel close to you, you are part of my life …’

  ‘Yes, and so is Peg,’ he interrupted. ‘Are you saying you feel no different about me than you do about Peg?’

  She looked taken aback and shook her head vigorously. ‘It’s difficult.’ Again she hesitated. ‘Peg is like a mother to me. She is kind and helpful and I enjoy working with her. What’s more, I’m grateful that she’s let me move into her home.’

  She stroked his face, grasping his firm chin and tilting it so that she could look into his green eyes.

  Sandy held his breath. He wanted so much to hold her close. Her lips were so inviting that he felt lust as well as love surging through him.

  In the end he could bear it no longer. He sank onto his knees in front of the wheelchair and pulled her towards him. Cradling her in a clumsy embrace he brought his mouth down on hers. His first tentative kiss was sweetly tender. When she made no attempt to pull away he kissed her more deeply, more passionately.

  ‘Winnie, I love you,’ he whispered hoarsely as he finally broke away. ‘I know we are both too young to get married yet, but will you marry me one day?’

  She sighed happily. ‘I’d like to think so, but I’m afraid to rush things,’ she told him softly. ‘In a year or so’s time you might decide that you don’t want to be tied to a cripple for the rest of your life,’ she explained as she saw the look of frustration on his face.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  WINNIE AND SANDY were both so occupied with their own thoughts that although they held hands they said very little to each other on the return crossing to Liverpool.

  Winnie stared out at the choppy waters of the Mersey, wondering if all this was actually taking place or whether she was in some kind of dream.

  When Sandy had asked her to marry him her immediate reaction had been to say yes. She couldn’t for the life of her understand why she had been so reluctant to accept.

  He would make a wonderful husband. They knew each other so well, they were used to each other’s ways, and they shared so many things together. He was always so concerned about her welfare that she knew she’d be well looked after, and that he would do all he possibly could to make her happy. So why had she held back?

  Perhaps it was because he was so big and strong, so physically perfect, that she felt it was wrong for him to have a wife who was a cripple.

  After a time he might get tired of having to push her around in a wheelchair every time they went out, and having to watch her struggle around on sticks when she was not using her chair, she told herself.

  She was concerned, too, about the physical side of their marriage. How would he react when he saw her undressed for the first time and saw her two useless, wasted limbs.

  Was it fair on him to accept his proposal, or was it vanity on her part that was making her wonder what was the right thing to do?

  When he’d asked her if she loved him she’d wanted to throw her arms around him and assure him that she did. She loved him more than life itself! He was always in her thoughts.

  She had been bitterly disappointed when she’d been turned down for the stall because she had been looking forward to being able to achieve something to help him in return for all he had done for her.

  Sandy watched the flickering emotions chasing themselves across Winnie’s face. He knew every line, every curve of her profile, every lift of her lips and flash of her eyes, and he wished he knew exactly what she was thinking at this moment.

  He knew it was to do with him asking her to marry him, and he couldn’t understand why she was so hesitant. He was sure she cared for him as much as he did for her, so why wouldn’t she say she did?

  Could there be someone else in her life? He didn’t think that was possible. He saw her every day and spent most of his time in her company so he would have known if she was seeing anyone else.

  As the ferryboat pulled alongside the landing stage the gangway was lowered. ‘Ready?’ Sandy asked. Immersed in his own confusion and misery he began to push the wheelchair up the steep incline of the floating roadway.

  The bright lights of the busy city streets, the Green Goddess trams clanging their way to and from the Pier Head and the noise of the overhead railway cut across his personal reminiscing. For a moment he wondered if the quiet, deserted shelter on the promenade in New Brighton had been another world.

  He was so deep in thought that Winnie’s warning shout failed to register. He had his head down, lost in his own world, when the collision happened. There was a yelp of pain followed by a shouted curse and the next thing he knew the chair was tilting and Winnie was screaming in fright.

  It only took minutes to rectify things. The man they’d collided with was in naval uniform and he didn’t seem any the worse for the encounter. Only very angry.

  Sandy started to apologise, but the man wasn’t listening. He was looking at Winnie, a grin of recognition spreading across his dark, good-looking face.

  ‘So this is how you treat old friends, is it,’ he exclaimed. ‘You didn’t come to meet me as we arranged and now when we do meet up you try to mow me down with your wheelchair!’

  ‘Bob? Bob Flowers!’

  Sandy heard the surprise and pleasure in Winnie’s voice and felt his heart jolt sickeningly.

  ‘You two don’t know each other, do you,’ she exclaimed. ‘Bob, this is my friend, Sandy Coulson, I’ve told you about him, remember? Sandy, this is Bob Flowers, we were at the Holy Cross Orphanage at the same time.’

  Sandy nodded, but kept his hands firmly on the chair. Winnie might have told Bob Flowers about him, but he was quite sure she’d never said a word to him about Bob Flowers, he thought dourly.

  ‘Where are you rushing off to like a madman then, Bob?’ Winnie asked laughingly.

  ‘We sail on the morning tide. I’ve been on leave. I tried to find you, but I had no idea where to look. I began to think I would never see you again when you didn’t turn up to meet me like we arranged.’

  ‘I did turn up, but you didn’t,’ she said quickly. �
��I was here at the Pier Head exactly as we agreed four evenings running, but there was no sign of you!’

  ‘Things went wrong on the trip, we were three weeks late getting into port.’

  ‘Aah! So you were the one at fault! How was I to know that you’d been delayed?’

  ‘Well, I’d hoped that you might make enquiries at the Shipping Office.’

  ‘Not me! In those days I was too frightened and nervous to do anything as adventurous as that,’ she laughed.

  ‘So now that we do meet I have to rush off,’ he said regretfully. ‘Have you time for a drink?’

  ‘Not tonight, mate,’ Sandy put in quickly. ‘We’ve been out for a meal in New Brighton and we’re heading home. We both have to be up early tomorrow morning for work.’

  ‘You’ve time for a milkshake or a coffee, surely. I can’t stay long either as I have to be back onboard in half an hour.’

  Winnie hesitated. ‘We could spare ten minutes, couldn’t we, Sandy?’ she pleaded.

  Sandy shrugged. ‘Where would we find anywhere to get a milkshake or anything else at this time of night? Even the pubs will be chucking out in ten minutes or so.’

  ‘Yes, you’re probably right,’ Bob Flowers agreed. ‘Well, we’d better make it next time I dock. That probably won’t be for at least six months though.’

  ‘See you then, mate,’ Sandy said cheerfully.

  ‘Well, yes, if I knew where to find you. I would have looked you up long before this, Winnie, if I’d known where you lived.’

  ‘We both work at Paddy’s Market,’ Sandy told him. ‘Ask any of the stallholders and they’ll find one or the other of us. Look forward to it, mate.’

  Sandy’s thoughts were in turmoil as he pushed Winnie back to Peg’s place. He was quite sure that Winnie had never mentioned Bob Flowers’ name to him. Yet they seemed very friendly, as though they’d been really close at some time, Sandy thought gloomily. He didn’t like it at all.

  When he reached Skirving Court he turned down Peg’s invitation to come in and have some supper with them. All he wanted was to be on his own, to try and think about everything that had happened.