The Lost Daughter of Liverpool: A heartbreaking and gritty family saga (The Mersey Trilogy Book 1)

by Pam Howes

  Frank hurried out to the cart and rushed back in carrying one of her mam’s old shopping bags. He handed it to Dora. ‘Dad’s sent some veg and half a dozen eggs. Hope I’ve not broken them. Mam’s shoved a couple of loaves and a cake in there as well. She said you’ll have been too busy today to get to the shops so that’s to tide you over until Monday.’

  Dora looked in the bag but could see no evidence of broken eggs. ‘Tell them thanks very much when you get home. I haven’t given food a thought, to be honest.’

  ‘That’s exactly what Mam said. She’ll be that busy with her frills and furbelows, she won’t stop to think about feeding poor Joe.’ He mimicked their mam to perfection, right down to the folded arms and pursed lips.

  Dora laughed and gave him a friendly shove. ‘Cheeky. Why don’t you and Joanie stay for tea? I’ve got a tin of corned beef in, so I can do us a hash.’

  Dora knelt on the floor and stacked the patterns, boxes of threads and all the other paraphernalia needed for the business of being a seamstress into a tall, free-standing cupboard. She filled the two bottom drawers with parcels of leftover fabric scraps, pads and pencils, and got to her feet. Joe was busy cleaning an old drop-leaf table that had been given to them for cutting out on. It would fold neatly away when not in use and would be ideal to stand the new machine on when they got it. She looked at the corkboard that he’d fixed to the wall and smiled with glee at their current workload, which was pinned to it in date order. She and Joanie were going to be very busy in the coming weeks.

  The other day they’d persuaded their foreman to part with an adjustable size dressmaker’s dummy from the unused first floor at Palmer’s. It had been standing around doing nothing for years, alongside many others, and, once the cobwebs had been brushed away, was as good as new. They’d christened it Florence.

  Getting her back here had been tricky and Dora grinned as she thought back to the other night when they’d brought her home. Their foreman had hidden Florence away from George Kane’s eyes, and presented her to Joe in two pieces.

  ‘It’s as good as new,’ Jack said. ‘But you didn’t have to buy me a packet of fags to persuade me. It’s my pleasure to help you girls where I can, in any little way. I wish I could do more, but you know how it is.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Dora said. ‘And you’re welcome to the ciggies. We’re very grateful for your help.’

  ‘’Ere, Joe, you carry the body out,’ Jack had called as Joe parked his bike at the front of the factory building. Joe struggled outside and sat the dummy on the back of the bike while Jack brought out the stand.

  Dora and Joanie giggled as they watched Joe trying to tie the unyielding body to the seat with garden twine. Florence was a dead weight and insisted on leaning backwards as Joe tried to persuade her to sit forward.

  ‘You can’t ride through the lanes with her stark naked,’ Joanie said, dashing outside to drape the dummy in one of her mam’s old nighties and a cardigan that she’d thoughtfully brought with her, anticipating Florence’s undignified ride home.

  ‘She’s not bloody real, you know?’ Joe rolled his eyes and again adjusted Florence so that she sat upright. Joanie tied an old scarf around the stump of her neck while Joe fixed the base to his back pannier.

  ‘Right, she’d better not fall off when I go round the bends. And I hope no one thinks I’ve got another woman,’ Joe quipped as he got ready to ride away into the night with Florence tied to the seat behind him.

  Joanie and Dora waved goodbye to Jack and followed Joe home on their bikes, stopping every few yards to wipe their eyes, unable to control their fits of the giggles. When they reached home Florence was still sitting in position on the bike parked on the road and Joe was inside the bungalow, helpless with laughter on the sofa.

  ‘Why haven’t you brought her inside?’ Dora asked.

  ‘Two fellas from down the road walking their dogs gave me right funny looks,’ he said. ‘Then they crossed over and kept looking back over their shoulders. So I thought I’d better wait until you two got here in case they thought I’d kidnapped a headless old lady. You can explain if the police turn up.’

  Now Florence stood in pride of place, draped with a length of brightly coloured cotton print that would soon become a dress for a customer’s daughter.

  Joe finished his cleaning. ‘Cuppa?’ he asked, breaking her thoughts.

  ‘Please, love. What do you think?

  ‘Yeah.’ He nodded his approval. ‘It all looks really good. Is that treadle okay now I’ve tightened the belt and given it a good oiling?’

  ‘It’s fine. Just need to make sure all the excess oil is absorbed before we use it again.’

  He slipped his arm around her shoulders. ‘I have such a good feeling about this, gel. It’s going to be a great success for you and Joanie.’

  She smiled. ‘I hope so.’

  As they enjoyed five minutes with a brew, there was a knock at the front door. Joe got up and let in Frank, who dropped his jacket onto the floor and sat down in the armchair opposite Dora. Joe went to pour him a cuppa.

  ‘Everything okay, Frank?’ Dora asked her brother. ‘You look a bit flushed. Is Joanie all right?’

  ‘Yes, everything’s fine.’ Frank accepted the mug of tea Joe handed him. ‘I want to ask you something, to see what you think. You know your opinion means a lot to me, Sis.’

  Dora tucked her legs and feet up on the settee as Joe sat down beside her again.

  ‘Ask away, we’re all ears.’ She frowned. Frank looked a bit nervous as he sipped his drink. He put his mug down on the coffee table and laced his fingers together.

  ‘Well, we’re only three weeks off Christmas now, so I’ve been thinking.’ Frank nervously cleared his throat. ‘On Christmas Eve I’m going to ask Joanie to marry me.’

  Dora stared at her normally unflappable brother, whose cheeks were crimson, his hands shaking. ‘Frank, that’s wonderful news.’ She jumped up and kissed him on the cheek and Joe got up to shake him by the hand.

  ‘Congratulations. Joanie’s the best. I’m sure you’ll both be very happy.’

  ‘Do you think she’ll accept?’ Frank stammered. ‘I mean, what if she says no?’

  ‘Why would she? She loves you, you know she does. She’ll be thrilled, Frank. And so will Mam and Dad. Has Joanie really got no idea?’

  He shook his head. ‘Settling down’s not something we’ve ever really talked about. But she knows that I love her, and I want to spend my life with her. She’s the only girl I’ve ever felt this way about.’

  ‘Then I’m sure she’ll accept your proposal. She’ll be really excited. What about a ring?’

  ‘I’ve been saving up and I’ve got enough put by to get a nice one. But how will I know it’s the right size, and what have you?’

  ‘Ah, well,’ Dora said, ‘when Joe gave me my engagement ring, Joanie tried it on and it fitted her perfectly, so if you get her one the same size it will be fine.’ She sat back on the sofa as an idea popped into her mind. ‘Would you like me to come with you on Saturday morning? You can choose something you think she’ll like, get it sized to fit, and then pick it up nearer the time. Unless of course it’s the right fit and you can buy it there and then.’

  ‘Oh thanks, Sis, that’s great. As long as Joe doesn’t mind me stealing his missus for a couple of hours.’

  ‘I tell you what, Frank, why don’t you propose on Christmas Day?’ Dora suggested. ‘You’re both out with us on Christmas Eve at the dance in the village hall, so it’ll be really noisy and busy. If you wait until the day itself, it will be so much more romantic. We’re doing Christmas dinner here for you and Joanie, and Mam and Dad. It will make the day really special for us all.’

  Frank smiled. ‘Good idea. You can tell I’m not very good at this sort of thing, can’t you? I’ve not thought it out properly.’

  Dora laughed. ‘Well it’s not every day you ask someone to be your wife. It has to be just right. You’ll remember the moment for the rest of your life, and so
will we.’

  ‘Do you think I should ask her mam for her hand first? But what if she lets something slip to Joanie by mistake and spoils the surprise?’

  ‘Joe didn’t ask our mam or dad until after he’d proposed to me,’ Dora said. ‘It’s up to you, Frank. I can’t for one minute see Joanie’s mam putting up any objection. She likes you, and she’s our mam’s best friend, so we’ll all be one big happy family.’

  Dora called out the measurements and Joanie wrote them down. Marlene, a neighbour from the prefabs, wanted a new dress for the ROF dinner dance. There wasn’t much time, Dora had told her when Marlene knocked on the door having seen the postcard in the paper shop window offering their services. But she didn’t want to turn business away, so they’d squeeze one more appointment in somehow. The paper bag lying on the table contained a length of royal blue satin for the dress. Marlene’s brother had got it for her last year, but she was rubbish with a needle and thread, she told Dora, so it had been sitting in the sideboard cupboard until today. The blue was the exact same colour as Marlene’s eyes and would look lovely with her blonde hair, but the style of dress she’d requested was going to be a problem as there wasn’t enough fabric. Dora sat down at the table and sketched a design that was similar to the full-skirted affair Marlene had described, with a sweetheart neckline, but the skirt was less bulky and would look so much better on Marlene’s generous figure.

  ‘The New Look’s all the rage now,’ Dora told her. ‘Full skirts are going out of fashion. This style will be fitted, but cut to flare over your hips and finish just above the knee. What do you think?’ Dora said, encouragement in her voice. It would have to be flipping satin fabric; there was nothing worse for fraying. This dress would take ages as they’d have to hand-stitch a small hem along all the raw edges to neaten them. Just what they didn’t need when they were so busy.

  Marlene nodded. ‘It’s perfect,’ she gasped. ‘I’ll look dead slim in that. Youse two should have a posh shop in town. You’re really good at this guessing what looks nice on people malarkey.’

  Joanie smiled. ‘We do our best. We’ll let you know as soon as your dress is ready for a fitting, Marlene. It’ll probably be towards the end of next week, but it will definitely be ready in time for the dance.’

  ‘Will you be at the dance, Dora? It’s a big night. And it’s so nice to have something to look forward to where I can get all dolled up to the nines.’

  ‘All being well,’ Dora said. ‘Does everyone on the staff go; office, works, and er, canteen?’

  ‘Oh yes, everybody. You must come. Your Joe’s band’s playing, so you should be there to support him.’

  Dora nodded. ‘I’ll do my best. Yours is the last dress, so hopefully I’ll be free that night.’

  Joanie puffed out her cheeks. ‘Don’t forget we’ve got a couple of outfits to get ready for New Year’s Eve.’

  ‘I know, and we’ll have them finished in time.’

  ‘Right, ladies, I’ll love you and leave you.’ Marlene put her coat on and picked up her handbag. Dora saw her out and went to put the kettle on. She made two mugs of Camp coffee and together she and Joanie sat on the sofa.

  ‘I hope we will get them all finished,’ Joanie said, sighing loudly. ‘God I wish we could give up working at Palmer’s, I’m so bloody tired.’

  ‘Me too, but it’ll all be worth it.’ Dora eased her shoes off her aching feet. It had been a long day and the roads had been icy, riding home on her bike. She’d have to start taking the bus as soon as it snowed. She thought about the ROF works do; she wouldn’t miss it for anything. She wanted to make sure that the woman from the canteen, that Ivy, remembered Joe was a married man. She saw the way Ivy had looked at him when he was on stage at their wedding. She hadn’t mentioned it, not even to Joanie, as it would make her sound like a jealous wife for no good reason really. She didn’t think for one minute that Joe would get up to anything behind her back – he loved her too much. It was Ivy she didn’t trust, not her Joe.

  CHAPTER 7

  Dora looked up from her work as Peggy shouted across the floor over the sound of Christmas carols being played on the wireless.

  ‘Jack, big boss wants you,’ Peggy called to the foreman, who was lifting boxes of shirts for a completed order onto a large table.

  ‘Right you are. Keep at it while I’m off the floor, you lot,’ Jack called cheerfully. ‘Bet he wants to tell me he’s upping the annual bonus this year.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Peggy muttered, shaking her head as Jack sauntered away. ‘And pigs might fly. Who’s he kidding? You do realise that once this order is completed, we’ve only one more for next year and that’s it.’ She looked around at the girls, who stared despondently at her.

  ‘He might be telling Jack that we’ve got more contracts coming in,’ Dora said, optimistically, trying to sound cheerful. Two weeks to Christmas and they didn’t really need to hear any bad news.

  ‘I doubt it. Anyway, you and Joanie will be all right, you’re raking it in with your new business.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that,’ Dora said, frowning. ‘We’re building things up slowly and we work really hard for what we earn. It’ll be ages before we’re up and running properly.’

  ‘If the worst comes to the worst, you could start making clothes on your mam’s machine at home too and earn a bit extra that way,’ Joanie suggested.

  Peggy shrugged. ‘She’d never put up with the noise. No, it’s not for me. I’ve not got a business head like you two. I prefer to be out during the day, working with people. It’d drive me mad being stuck in all day with me mam. If we get laid off any time soon I’ll probably try for a job at Tate & Lyle’s in town, or Littlewoods pools or something. I’ll get out of the rag-trade, it’s not like it used to be and the jobs are few and far between in Liverpool. Most of the north’s clothing factories are in Lancashire and I’m not moving up that way.’

  Dora nodded and rubbed a hand across her eyes. She had a banging head and felt off colour. She wasn’t looking forward to riding home along the icy lanes and then having to cook tea for Joe and sit up half the night sewing, either. All she really wanted to do was sit in front of a nice warm fire and put her feet up. But unless Joe arrived home first there would be no blazing fire to greet her and she’d have to keep her coat on for a while to get warmed up. Much as she loved going back to her own home, she missed her parents’ cosy little cottage and her tea on the table when she got in.

  Joanie patted her hand and smiled. ‘You still feeling a bit iffy?’

  Dora sighed. ‘Think I’m getting a cold or something. I feel shivery and sickly.’ The afternoon break bell rang out and she got to her feet. ‘You ready?’

  The pair followed the rest of the girls down to the canteen and helped themselves to mugs of piping hot tea and a lemon puff each from the trolley.

  ‘Let’s sit over near that radiator.’ Joanie led the way. ‘Bloody hell, it’s stone cold,’ she said, leaning against it. ‘That’s unusual. No wonder we can’t get warm, they were cold upstairs as well. Bet the janitor forgot to stoke the boiler.’

  Peggy and Maude joined them, both shivering. Maude pulled her old cardigan around her body.

  ‘Has the boiler broken down or something?’ Dora said and wrapped her hands around her mug, taking a sip of tea.

  Peggy shrugged. ‘I’ll find out from Jack when we go back upstairs. Wrong time of year for that to happen. We can’t be expected to work in cold conditions. They’ll have to get it fixed or we’ll walk out.’

  They were joined by Alice, one of the packers, who had brought her coat down with her. ‘S’not bloody right, this. Expecting us to work when it’s so damn cold.’

  ‘Maybe they’ve arranged to get it fixed for tomorrow,’ Joanie said optimistically.

  ‘Fixed! Huh, youse can’t fix something that’s not broken, gel. If Kane paid the bills the coalman would deliver more coke for the boiler.’

  Dora frowned. ‘Is that what’s wrong? They’ve run out of coke?
’

  ‘So I’ve heard. Kane hasn’t paid for the last few months so the coalman’s refused to deliver any more until he settles his bill. I tell you; since old Mr Palmer died this place has gone to the dogs. No bloody work, and now no heat either. We’ll all be down with pneumonia by Christmas at this rate. It’s not right.’

  ‘Well I’m putting my coat on when we get back upstairs too,’ Joanie said. ‘If they don’t like it they can lump it.’

  Jack Carter called all the girls together when they came back from their break. He cleared his throat and Dora saw him grit his teeth, as though preparing for the onslaught that she felt sure was to come. Something was very wrong and she had a feeling she knew what he was about to tell them.

  ‘Gerron with it then,’ Peggy called. ‘Is he getting that bloody coal bill paid? We can’t work in a freezing factory.’ As she spoke her breath puffed out in little clouds that hung in the air.

  ‘I’m sorry, girls, but there’s no easy way to say this,’ Jack began, his voice cracking with emotion. ‘As you know, since the end of the war we’ve not been getting the orders coming in, apart from the shirts, and that’s not enough to keep us going. So unless we can get some new clothing contracts in early next year we’ll be closing the factory down. Your jobs are safe for now and you will be paid, so don’t worry about that. But I’m afraid there’ll be no festive bonus in this year’s Christmas pay packets.’

  A cry went up as the women took in the news. Most of them relied on that extra few shillings to put a Christmas dinner on the family table. Everyone began talking at once; shouting at Jack. Dora pulled on Joanie’s sleeve and nodded for her to go to her seat. She glanced towards poor Jack, who, red-faced, was trying to placate the angry women. He looked as though he might cry himself as they pushed and pulled him towards the door, demanding to be taken to George Kane’s office.

  ‘What the hell are we going to do now?’ Joanie was on the verge of tears. Her mam had five mouths to feed on Christmas Day. ‘Mam’s ordered a turkey and was expecting my bonus to pay for it. She’ll go mad.’