The Mersey Daughter

by Annie Groves

  ‘Oh honestly, I’ve told you all of this before.’ Nancy rolled her eyes. ‘You know very well that Gloria’s coming home. She’s been a big success in London and now she’s going on tour. She’s coming to Liverpool today and I’m going to go and meet her. They’re putting her up at the Adelphi! I’m not going to miss that!’

  ‘Well, that’s a change from the Sailor’s Rest and no mistake,’ observed Dolly, who was fond of Gloria even though she’d got a reputation for being fast. ‘I hope she’s going to make some time to visit her parents in all of this high life. They won’t have seen her for ages.’

  ‘Oh, she’s bound to,’ Nancy lied. Gloria’s parents weren’t like Dolly and Pop. Mr and Mrs Arden were more bothered by how well their pub was doing than what their only daughter got up to. ‘Mam, you’ll take Georgie, won’t you? He loves being here, look at him now. It’s his favourite place in the world.’ She wondered if she was laying it on a bit thick, but she could usually persuade her mother, and it was true that George liked nothing better than to stay at his granny’s.

  Dolly regarded her most troublesome child with a baleful air, in full knowledge that she was being taken advantage of, but she could never stay cross with her for long. ‘Oh, all right then,’ she said. ‘But make sure you behave yourself, young lady. I won’t have you being the talk of the street.’ Nancy pursed her lips at her mother but wisely kept any backchat to herself. The business with Stan Hathaway was still a sore spot between them and she didn’t want to risk any curtailment of her night out.

  ‘Here, Rita,’ Dolly said, ‘you get off and give the boy to me. Are you sure you won’t take some lettuce? I picked it myself; it’s one of the first things that’s come up in the victory garden. All thanks to your clever idea of using spare panes of glass from the bomb site to make little greenhouses, Violet.’

  ‘That’s a good idea. In fact, why don’t I drop some off at Danny’s?’ Rita asked. She knew that Danny would be grateful for the salad, as he would never think to buy it for himself. Moreover, letters had begun to arrive at his house from Jack, and she was desperate to hear his news.

  ‘Of course, what a kind idea.’ Dolly beamed at her eldest daughter’s thoughtfulness. ‘There’s plenty for both of you.’

  ‘Just make sure you wash it – we wouldn’t want Winnie to choke on a slug,’ Nancy added.

  Rita tucked the precious letter into the waistband of her skirt and buttoned her coat over it to hide any tell-tale bulge. It would be foolish to go to all the trouble of getting the letters sent to her neighbour only for Winnie to spot her smuggling one back into the shop to read, and she knew the older woman would take full advantage of anything she regarded as stepping out of line. However, even the thought of Winnie’s malevolence couldn’t dampen Rita’s anticipation – she’d waited too long to feel that moment of connection with Jack. Just to see his beloved handwriting made her feel less alone.

  Pushing open the door to the living quarters, she was surprised to find Ruby going through to the kitchen. Her startling blonde hair was bright in the early evening sunlight. Ruby jumped, nervous as ever.

  ‘Ohhhhh.’ Her voice shook. ‘It’s you, Rita. I’m … I’m glad it’s you.’

  ‘Of course it’s me. Who else would it be?’ Rita smiled reassuringly as she put down her basket and unpacked it. ‘See what I’ve got from Mam, Ruby. I could make us a nice sandwich. Would you like that? Maybe with some Branston pickle? That’s what I’m going to have.’ She drew out an enamel colander from one of the cupboards above the sink and began to pull off some lettuce leaves to wash.

  Ruby nodded, but didn’t seem convinced. Finally she plucked up the courage to say what was on her mind. ‘The strange men were back today.’ She trembled. ‘I hid away. I don’t like it when they come; their voices feel funny.’

  Rita paused at the sink. ‘What men, Ruby? Don’t worry, I won’t blame you for anything. Tell me what happened.’

  The young woman wrung her hands. ‘They were angry. They shouted at Winnie. They said bad things. It was loud, I was scared.’

  ‘What things, Ruby? Did they threaten Winnie? Were they the police?’

  ‘They … maybe not … a bit like the police, but different uniforms.’ Ruby looked helpless. ‘They said … military police. That was it. They said she had to tell them where he was.’

  Rita cast her eyes heavenwards. She had known it almost before Ruby began to speak – it was about Charlie again. Her useless deserting husband still hadn’t faced up to his duty and joined up. Now the authorities were after him good and proper. She’d been lucky that they’d come when she was out; despite her hatred of Charlie, the fact that they were all being dragged through the mud along with him was excruciating. She had nothing to hide and had done nothing wrong – but the powerful shame of knowing her husband was a complete and utter coward was enough to drive her to the depths of despair.

  ‘They won’t hurt you, Ruby.’ She tried to keep her voice level; there was no sense in making Ruby more frightened than she already was. ‘They just want to find where Charlie is. And since we don’t know, we can’t tell them anything useful.’

  ‘Charlie’s a bad man!’ Ruby suddenly burst out. ‘He was mean to me. I don’t like him. He took Elsie to the pub all the time, and he shut Michael and Megan away without their supper.’

  Rita’s heart turned over at the thought of her children going hungry at their father’s hands, but she steeled herself. They were better fed now than they’d ever been in their lives. She mustn’t let it upset her further. ‘You’re right, Ruby,’ she said. ‘He’s not a nice man, but he’s not here, so we’ll be all right. Why don’t you pass me the bread and I’ll make those sandwiches. You shouldn’t let it worry you. After all, it’s ages since they last came looking for him.’

  Ruby paused as she lifted the loaf from the bread bin. ‘It’s six weeks and two days,’ she said. ‘Also, they came at two o’clock last time and this time it was half past three.’

  ‘Really, Ruby?’ Rita thought that this was a strange thing to remember, especially as the young woman had been so frightened. ‘You’ve got a good memory. I never know when things have happened or how long ago. I don’t think many people do.’

  Ruby looked at her seriously. ‘Well I do,’ she said shortly. ‘I see patterns. I know these things. If you need to know then you ask me. I don’t forget.’

  ‘All right, Ruby,’ said Rita, slicing the bread, feeling slightly startled by the direction this conversation had taken. She berated herself for underestimating the girl; just because she acted strangely didn’t necessarily mean she was an idiot, although Elsie and now Winnie treated her as one. ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

  Ruby beamed as she accepted her sandwich. ‘Yes please, Rita,’ she said. ‘I would like to help you. Michael and Megan are my best friends, so I’ll help you. I don’t forget anything, ever.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘Oh, this is nice!’ Nancy flung herself back on the elaborate counterpane of the big double bed and looked at the ornate ceiling. ‘They must think a lot of you, putting you up in here. Oh, I could get used to this. Who’d have thought it? If some of those old bags from Empire Street could see you here they’d have a fit. Serve ’em right and all.’

  Gloria grinned. ‘Believe me, not every hotel’s like this. I’ve stayed in some right fleapits since starting the tour.’ She sat down on the velvet stool which stood in front of the mirrored dressing table. It was in the exact shade of the gorgeously thick curtains, which toned with the counterpane – it was all the height of luxury. ‘But no, I grant you, this is all right.’

  ‘Just think, all those nights we were downstairs when you were singing, and we didn’t know what the bedrooms were like.’ Nancy stretched her arms above her head. ‘This is the comfiest bed I’ve ever been on.’

  Gloria raised her eyebrows. ‘Does that mean you’ve been trying out a few since we last met? Nancy, you dark horse.’

  Nancy gasped, then realised her fr
iend was teasing. ‘No, of course not. Don’t be like that, Glor. You know I’m not like some girls we could mention.’

  ‘Just as well, I suppose.’ Gloria gazed at the wallpaper above the mirror. ‘Apart from being on tour, I haven’t tried out any either.’

  Nancy rolled on to her side and propped her head on her hand to regard her friend. Gloria had always attracted men without any effort – her looks alone guaranteed she would be the centre of attention wherever she went, with her natural platinum-blonde hair and stunning face, but added to that she had the gift of a powerful voice that she used to tug on the heartstrings of anyone listening. In her more honest moments, Nancy admitted she was deeply jealous of her friend, but it had also been useful to stick by her side as she then could bask in the reflected glory and also meet a fair few men herself. But times had changed.

  ‘Your impresario fellow making you work all hours, is he?’ she asked. ‘You want to stand up for yourself, make sure you get a bit of time off. All work and no play and all that.’

  ‘What do you think this is?’ Gloria said, smiling to take the edge off her reply. ‘I’m not performing this evening. He knows I can’t sing every night, or and move hotels as well. I’ll get too tired, and then my voice gets tired and we can’t risk that. No, he’s good, I’ve been very lucky. He knows what he’s doing. I trust him. No, not like that,’ she added, reading the inquisitive expression on Nancy’s face. ‘I tell you, I’m concentrating on my career now.’

  ‘Really?’ Nancy couldn’t quite believe it.

  Gloria spun round on the delicate little stool to face her friend. ‘Yes, really.’ She paused and clasped her hands. ‘I can’t waste my time going out in the evening with men when I’ve got a chance to really do something with my singing. I can’t mess around, this is my one shot at it and I’m not going to waste it.’ Her face grew determined. ‘I mean it, Nancy. I know we used to have a lot of fun—’

  ‘We did,’ Nancy said eagerly.

  ‘And I don’t regret it, but things are different now.’

  ‘Don’t say “there’s a war on”,’ Nancy said wearily. ‘I’m sick and tired of hearing it. Every time I try to liven things up a bit at home, someone in my family will pipe up to remind me there’s a bloody war on. I’m fed up to here of it.’ She punched the beautifully soft pillow in exasperation.

  Gloria laughed indulgently. ‘Yes, but your family are all doing their bit, aren’t they? This is my way. And talking of family, it’s all my mother’s fault.’

  Nancy looked up, surprised. ‘What, has she been writing to you or something? Don’t say she’s been down to see you, I know she hasn’t, I see her around the street every day. Sometimes she says hello, sometimes she doesn’t.’

  ‘Don’t be daft.’ Gloria’s voice dripped with contempt. ‘She won’t bother with you ’cos you’re not a regular customer. That’s all she cares about. That’s my point. She’s stuck in that filthy old pub, seeing the same old faces day in day out, watching my dad get drunk with whoever’s left after the call-up. But she used to sing, you know.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. Never heard her though.’

  ‘Nobody has. She lost her voice before she had me. She didn’t take care of it. She had this talent and she did nothing with it. Well, I’m not going to fall into that trap.’ Gloria pursed her immaculately painted lips. ‘You’ve got to seize the chances that come your way, and she didn’t. I’m serious about this work. I love it, and also it’s helping the war effort. People feel better after hearing me sing. That sounds big-headed, I know, but that’s what Romeo Brown says. I don’t care if I have to sing “We’ll Meet Again” over and over – if that’s what they want to hear and if it gives them the will to go on, who am I to say no?’

  Nancy looked at her friend with respect. ‘You’ve always had a lovely voice, Glor, but I didn’t realise you were so serious about it.’

  ‘Well, I am now.’ Gloria sighed. ‘After … well, you know.’

  Nancy’s face softened. ‘You mean Giles?’

  Gloria nodded. ‘Yes. Giles.’ For a moment her voice faltered. ‘He was wonderful, Nancy, and I don’t think I fully realised it until he was gone. Typical, isn’t it?’ She shook her head. ‘He was kind, and courageous, and he died because he took the blast of that bomb, protecting me. It’s taken me ages to even think about it properly. He did that, for me. Everyone used to say that he was just after a good time with a showgirl and that he’d never actually marry me, but he proposed that very night and I know he’d have gone through with it. Then he went and died.’ She sighed. ‘Well, that was my one chance to marry a pilot and escape the Sailor’s Rest that way. I’m not interested in catching another man. The good ones are all in the Forces and then they can die on you. Just like that.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘One minute you’re planning your future, the next – nothing. Well, never again. I’m done with men.’ She paused. ‘Sorry, listen to me going on. We’re here to enjoy ourselves, aren’t we? Here, try some of this. I get room service, you know, and I got them to bring us up a little something just before you got here.’

  ‘Oooh, don’t mind if I do. What’s in that?’ Nancy eyed the bottle in the ice bucket on the silver tray greedily. She was disappointed that her evening out looked as if it was going to be spent in Gloria’s hotel room − she’d been looking forward to dancing, some music, a bit of harmless flirtation with the servicemen on their night off. Still, at least she didn’t have to look at Mrs Kerrigan’s curdled features … and the Adelphi really was lovely. Yes, this was a welcome change all right.

  ‘It’s vermouth. I’ll make us a cocktail.’ Gloria expertly poured the glossy liquid from the bottle and added a little splash of bitters from a smaller bottle, before popping in a twist of lemon and giving it a little stir. ‘Here you go. Cheers.’

  ‘Cheers.’ Nancy raised the delicate glass and sipped cautiously. ‘Ooooh, that’s strong.’

  ‘Well, take it easy.’ Gloria smiled and raised her own glass. ‘It’s my treat. I hardly ever drink, and never when I’m singing, it dries the throat. But now and again on my nights off I like something special. Thought you might like it too.’

  ‘Oh, I do,’ sighed Nancy, getting into the mood. ‘Honestly, Glor, this is the life, isn’t it? Just look at us. Two girls from Empire Street, drinking cocktails upstairs at the Adelphi.’ She leaned back against the sumptuous pillows.

  ‘Not bad.’ Gloria took a small sip. ‘But enough about me. What have you been up to, Nancy? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. It’s May already. Tell me everything I’ve missed.’

  ‘Not very much.’ Nancy scowled. ‘I’m back living with the dragon, so I don’t do anything. I stay in with little Georgie.’

  ‘How is he?’ Gloria asked dutifully.

  ‘Oh, he’s all right.’ Nancy’s face broke into a smile. ‘No, he’s lovely, he’s walking and everything. Mam’s got him tonight.’

  ‘She’s good, your mam.’

  ‘She is,’ Nancy acknowledged. ‘I’m lucky, I know. She could have refused to help out after that row at Christmas when our Sarah found out about me and Stan. She was furious, of course, but she still takes him when Violet’s busy. Well, she’s happy to, he’s so sweet, he really is.’

  Gloria smiled, even though she wasn’t really very keen on babies. She couldn’t see the point of them. But Georgie made her friend and her family very happy, so it would be churlish to mention that having him had definitely cramped Nancy’s style. ‘Any news from Stan?’ she asked instead. ‘Have you seen him since the row?’

  Nancy’s face fell. ‘He hasn’t had leave for ages.’ She took a larger swig of the cocktail than she’d intended and spluttered. ‘Oh, I must be careful. Hah.’ She paused. ‘He writes, though, that’s something, even if it’s no real substitute for having him here. I’ll see him the next time he’s home – they can’t stop me, I’ll find a way. Actually I got a letter earlier today and I couldn’t get a moment to myself to read it. I have to be very cautious.’ She grinn
ed conspiratorially at Gloria.

  Gloria smiled indulgently at her friend. She knew that Nancy was in danger of getting her fingers burnt, but Nancy was headstrong and would never be told anything she didn’t want to hear. Gloria knew that if word ever got out around Empire Street about what Nancy had been up to, they’d hang her out to dry. It wasn’t like the circles that Gloria herself ran in now, amongst the liberal artistic set. They were much more relaxed about things like that. Anyway, this wasn’t the moment to burst Nancy’s bubble. ‘Go on, then, read it now,’ Gloria urged her. ‘I won’t tell, promise.’

  Nancy rolled over across the big bed and reached for her handbag, which looked rather battered and out of place in the luxurious bedroom. ‘Here we are. Let me see …’ Her eyes scanned the single piece of paper. Then she read it again. ‘No. That can’t be right.’ Her hand flew to her mouth. ‘No, he can’t mean it.’ Her face went pale.

  ‘What? What is it?’ Gloria rushed across the room. ‘Blimey, are you all right, Nance? You’ve gone as white as a sheet. Whatever’s the matter?’

  ‘He’s … he’s …’ Nancy gulped and then burst into tears. ‘He’s given me the push, Glor. I can’t believe it, he’s … oh no. He … he says it’s not right, me being married and Sid being a prisoner of war. He says it’s preying on his conscience.’

  ‘Conscience my arse,’ said Gloria pithily. ‘Wasn’t much sign of his conscience when he was having his way with you before Christmas, was there? How very convenient. What a bastard. Really, Nancy, if that’s what he’s like, then you’re better off without him. Bet he’s got a girl or several closer to where he’s based, that’ll be the truth of it. Conscience, I ask you.’ She sat on the bed and went to hug her friend.