The Children of Lovely Lane

by Nadine Dorries

  ‘Lily, Lily, would you look,’ said Katie as she gasped and held up her mirror. ‘God, isn’t it just beautiful.’

  Joe was silent as he held his toy train in his hands and turned it over and over.

  Lily’s eyes filled with tears as she watched Katie cradle the mirror in her hands, scared to drop or break it as she looked at her own wide-eyed and speechless expression.

  ‘Would you look at you! You’d think that Father Christmas had brought you the crown jewels,’ she said as, excited beyond belief, they began to chatter all at once as they examined the colouring books and pencils.

  ‘Come by the fire now,’ she said, ‘we won’t be going outside.’

  But she couldn’t stop them moving to the window. The noise of the neighbours’ children, even on Christmas morning, began to filter through the walls. They dived to the window, clutching their presents and, behind them, Lily’s heart sank. The children from the happy families, those whose fathers worked every hour they could get down on the docks and whose mothers cleaned at St Angelus at night when their children were all tucked up in bed, pushed bikes and toy prams out on to the half landing and into the courtyard.

  ‘Oh, Lily, would you look at that toy pram. It’s white and red, isn’t it beautiful?’ said Katie, her colouring books forgotten and her face pressed up against the glass. ‘It’s Sheila. Can I go out, Lily? She will let me play with her, won’t she?’

  The air was pierced by a shrill scream. It was Joe. He’d seen the little boy from next door pedalling up and down the courtyard on a tricycle.

  ‘Why didn’t Father Christmas leave us any of those, Lily?’ asked Katie. ‘I would have loved a doll.’ This wish was whispered almost into the glass and Lily had to strain to hear her.

  ‘It doesn’t matter, Katie,’ said Joe, ‘we have got all these. We have the best presents.’

  ‘Yes, you have. You can do colouring all day in the warm. You can go out and play any old day,’ said Lily.

  But under her breath she cursed the children of Clare Cottages. How could she compete with the parents who put money in the ‘club’ down at the shop every week and another two bob in a jar every week of the year to save for Christmas. She had watched in envy over the past week as the women of Clare Cottages had struggled up and down the stairs with string bags bulging with jars and tins and hams banging against their shins. Rationing was still in force, but the black market down on the docks enabled those who were canny enough to push their own boat out at Christmas time. It was as if the good women of Clare Cottages had gone mad, desperate to buy every new food commodity available in the shops or that had arrived into port and fallen off the back of a ship.

  ‘Now, who is going to help me make mince pies?’ said Lily cheerfully. ‘There was a recipe in Mrs McConaghy’s magazine and she gave it to me and I have all the things we need. We can use a milk bottle for a rolling pin, can’t we, Katie?’

  She clasped Katie’s hand as the little girl shivered with excitement at the thought of baking. It was so novel, it was as exciting a prospect as a new bike.

  ‘Come on then, clothes on. Let’s go! We have bacon and fried bread for breakfast. Now, isn’t this the best?’

  How her parents didn’t wake up with the whoops of excitement, she had no idea. She hoped in her heart that they would sleep all day.

  Everything is going great, Lily thought to herself as they made the pastry, just the way Sister Therese had taught her at school. The children giggled as the flour covered them all and Lily became enveloped in a white cloud.

  ‘Merry Christmas, everyone!’ They heard her voice before she was even through the door and Joe ran forward to meet Sister Therese.

  ‘Come here and help me, would you, Joe,’ she said. ‘Here you are, Katie, these are for you.’ Sister Therese did have wrapping paper and the present she handed to Katie was enormous and looked twice as inviting as Lily’s had earlier that morning.

  Lily felt her heart sink for the briefest moment. She wished she could have had more time to prepare, but until yesterday she’d been dreading Christmas. It was still less than twenty-four hours since Mrs McConaghy had handed Lily her envelope and even Lily was wide-eyed at the transformation one gift had made to their fortunes.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Katie, almost breathless. ‘Is it for me?’ She held it at arm’s length and looked as though Sister Therese had just placed an unexploded bomb in her arms.

  ‘Well, now, why would I be giving it to you if it was for someone else? Do you think I’ve struggled all the way here and up those steps on my own with my arms full to bursting, only to find out I’ve come to the wrong house? I had to make the journey twice.’ Sister Therese winked at Lily. ‘I haven’t forgotten you,’ she said. ‘Does that teapot have anything in it? I’m near parched from the holy smoke.’

  Lily felt frozen in shame. She’d been so busy running around the market buying for Katie and Joe, she’d forgotten to buy anything for Sister Therese. Her face burnt with embarrassment. She wasn’t even sure that nuns could accept presents, but still, she would have liked to have at least had something to show how grateful they were for all her help.

  ‘Sit on the floor to open them,’ Sister Therese said.

  ‘Can I?’ asked Katie, who despite Sister Therese’s instruction looked dubious and sought confirmation from Lily before daring to move with such a big parcel in her arms.

  Although she wanted to fetch Sister Therese her tea, Lily couldn’t move from the spot. She could not take her eyes off Katie’s face as, crouching, she slowly placed her box on the floor and, casting nervous glances towards Joe and Lily, surveyed the first real present she had ever been given.

  ‘Come on then, Katie,’ said Lily. ‘Open it up. I’m not leaving until I see what you have.’

  Katie, unsure what to do, picked at the edge of her present. ‘I want to see what Joe has,’ she said.

  ‘Do you know, someone once told me that a big box wrapped up in paper is the best thing in the world that you can give a child. Doesn’t matter what’s in it. It’s just the wrapped-up box they love.’ Sister Therese kept her eyes on Katie and inclined her head towards Lily as she spoke. ‘Who would credit it now. You wouldn’t think so, looking at this one now, would you?’

  Katie smiled up at her and finally, feeling reassured, proceeded to rip the paper from the present with gusto.

  A perfect and exquisitely dressed doll was lifted out of the box. She was wearing a pale blue silk dress and, for a brief moment, it occurred to Lily that the doll was dressed better than Katie would ever be. It was a doll more beautiful than either Lily or Katie had ever seen.

  There was a moment of silence as Katie held out the doll before her. ‘Is it really for me?’ she asked again. Unsure. Scared. Reluctant to let her heart soar with the surge of love she felt for the loveliest thing she had ever seen until she was absolutely certain it was safe to do so.

  ‘Well, it’s not for Sheila McGuffy. Of course it’s for you,’ said Sister Therese.

  Katie slowly hugged her doll to her, and burst into tears.

  Lily dropped to her knees. She instinctively knew what was wrong. Katie did not believe that this doll was something she could keep once Sister Therese had left the house. She was torn between her sudden rush of intense love for the doll and the disappointment she knew would follow when her parents saw it. They would sell it for sure. Or pawn it. Their sole mission in life was to secure money for drink.

  Sister Therese dropped to her knees next to Lily. ‘This is yours for ever, Katie,’ she said. ‘Now, you need to stop crying and think what name you’re going to give to your baby and where she is going to sleep tonight. Have ye room in the bed for her?’

  Katie nodded her head vigorously and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

  ‘Well now, isn’t that just grand. I always think Alfreda is a nice name. I knew a Sister Alfreda once.’

  Katie wrinkled her nose. Suzy had been the name that had flown to the front of her mind. Lily
smiled at Katie. She knew that, as grateful as Katie was, the beautiful doll would never be christened Alfreda.

  ‘Now, listen here, you. While I have a cuppa, I want you to choose a name for your dolly, and don’t be influenced by me. But you have to make me a promise.’

  Katie looked solemnly towards Sister Therese.

  ‘You have to bring her with you to Mass. Is that a deal?’

  By now it was Lily’s eyes that were filled with tears as she watched Katie undo the string ties in the box that were holding her doll upright. And then she held her doll across her front like a baby and silently rocked her.

  Lily noticed that Joe had been standing next to her, still and silent, holding her hand. She moved closer to him and ruffled his soft, morning hair. She was subconsciously letting Sister Therese know there was another little one and her heart constricted in pain at the thought she might have forgotten him.

  ‘Oh, Joe, there you are. Come here with me while I show you. I would never forgot you,’ said Sister Therese. She opened wide the door on to the landing and before them all stood a gleaming red tricycle with a wicker basket fastened to the rear with a white leather strap.

  Lily grasped Joe’s hand tight and Joe let out a gasp.

  As Joe sat on his bike, almost speechless with delight, one thought ran through Lily’s mind. Within days, her mother would try to pawn or sell these wonderful gifts and she would now have to come up fast with a way to prevent that happening.

  Let them have their day, she thought, as she went to make tea for Sister Therese. She would not let her parents spoil this, their best Christmas Day ever. But her spirits sank at the thought of their broken hearts when the inevitable moment came and her siblings arrived home from school to find the presents gone.

  ‘And here, Lily, this is for you.’ Sister Therese reached down into her bag and brought out the smallest present. ‘Go on, open it.’

  It was a gold crucifix on a fine gold chain and Lily let it slip through her fingers.

  ‘Go on, put it on. I want to see you wearing it before I go.’

  Lily did as she was told and then said, ‘I had a present from Mrs McConaghy too.’

  ‘Well, isn’t that the thing. Let us see it then.’

  Within seconds, Lily had extracted the thin present from under her bed and laid it on the table. She untied the string as though it were spun from a spider’s web and eventually lifted out a beautiful green paisley scarf.

  Sister Therese could not hide her delight. ‘Well, imagine that. If you don’t look like the most beautiful girl in all of Liverpool wearing that, I don’t know who would.’

  Lily had no words as she tied the headscarf and, picking up Katie’s now forgotten mirror, examined her reflection. For the first time, she saw herself as the woman she would one day become.

  *

  As Sister Therese made her way across the road to St Chad’s, she met Father Brennan on his way over from the house.

  ‘Did you do your deed?’ he asked.

  Father Brennan had long argued that the children needed to be taken into the home at St Chad’s and then the welfare contacted, to give them a better chance of being raised as Catholics.

  ‘I have, and I know you disapprove, Father, but if you had seen their faces...’ The Lancashires were her biggest challenge. She had always felt her best option was to support Lily and the children at home. It was her policy with all the families in Clare Cottages.

  ‘Sure, St Chad’s would be full to the gunnels if every child who needed care was brought into the home. How would we manage?’

  Father Brennan waved his finger at Sister Therese. They had many a disagreement about the children who lived in Clare Cottages. ‘You do a fine job, Sister, but mark my word, the day will come when we have no choice. You are arguing with the Lord over this one, so be careful. He always wins.’

  Sister Therese had a heavy heart. She was just as worried about Lily. The children were her world. If they were taken into care, where would Lily go? What would become of her? No, she would leave things as they were. And Father was wrong, she was not arguing with the Lord, not yet anyway. She knew that soon something would happen that would show them the way. She felt that something good was about to pass. Something that would change Lily’s life. That was what the Lord was telling her.

  ‘The only person I do battle with around here, Father, is you,’ she said with a wry smile as they both blessed themselves and walked under the arch into St Chad’s.

  Father Brennan shook his head. Sister Therese always got what she wanted. From everyone she met, and always from him. And now it looked as though she might also have God himself wrapped around her little finger too.

  11

  The second she walked through the door of the processing plant office, Lily knew something was not quite right. The bell above the door jangled and announced her arrival to the empty room. She looked up at the huge clock, positioned above the door to the back stairs that led down to the processing plant floor. She had made it. The large black minute hand told her it was two minutes to eight. She shivered. The office was unwelcoming, the fire unlit. It was cold and empty and then she saw that her desk had been moved to face the wall, where there was no window and very little light. Lily frowned. She had sat in the same place, near the fireplace and facing the window, since the day she’d arrived.

  In her place and even closer to the fire, directly opposite Mrs McConaghy’s own desk, someone had placed a smart new leather-topped desk and a leather swivel chair.

  Lily looked around her. ‘Hello,’ she shouted. ‘Mrs McConaghy?’ There was no response. The bell above the door jangled in a slightly disappointed tone as she slowly closed the door, her eyes never leaving the new desk. She surveyed it as she would an intruder. ‘How did you get in here?’ she whispered. ‘Who carried you up the steps?’ Mr and Mrs McConaghy were getting far too old to do any heavy lifting themselves and in Mrs McConaghy’s case, she was rather too fond of the newly arrived French fancies in Sayers, so she no longer moved as well as she used to.

  The office was freezing. The furnaces that warmed the upstairs rooms had been run low over the Christmas break and down in the yard she could hear the coal being shovelled into the wooden skips on runners and wheeled across the concrete floor ready for to start them up again. Soon, with the help of the huge gas pokers, the plant would fire back into life, and in an hour or two the office would be as warm as toast again.

  Lily didn’t want to remove her coat until she’d begun to feel the heat from the furnaces and had lit the fire in the office. She peeled off her gloves and, pushing them into her coat pocket, began her usual morning routine. It had taken her over an hour to walk to work. The roads had been almost deserted due to the thickness of the smog, and her bus had failed to turn up. It was as if time had frozen as the people of Liverpool hibernated indoors. She filled the Burco urn using a large copper jug and, placing her ear against the side, reassured herself that it was working as she heard the faint hum of the first simmer. She lit the fire and used the old bellows to coax it into life, then walked around the office taking down the Christmas cards that were pinned on to the wall. Her breath hung before her in opaque, milky clouds and her frozen fingers struggled to remove the brass-topped drawing pins with her soft and splintered nails.

  All the while, her eyes kept wandering to the imposing new desk and chair. Just like Katie, when she’d been presented with her new doll, she kept thinking to herself, that can’t be for me. Surely not? Can it?

  She couldn’t think who else it could be for. It must be for her. A ridiculous thrill began to run through her veins at the thought that it might be a second Christmas present, given in acknowledgement of how hard she worked. Did the McConaghys really appreciate her so much that they thought she was worthy of a brand-new desk and chair?

  The bell above the door announced the fact that she was no longer alone. It was accompanied by an icy blast of air around her ankles. Turning from the wall, she saw Lockie, st
amping his boots.

  ‘Shut the door, Lockie,’ she almost shouted. ‘It’s cold enough in here with no furnace lit, and the fire hasn’t got going yet.’

  Lockie turned to face back outdoors and looked towards the river. ‘Have you seen out on the docks? There’s no ships coming in. The ones that are have already been unloaded and there’s nothing waiting out at the bar. Harbourmaster says the fog out at sea is as thick as pease pottage. It’ll be worse onshore by tonight.’

  Lily smiled at Lockie. She liked to think that they were friends, but really, it was more than that; he was an ally. Someone she could chat to when Mrs McConaghy went out for her morning walk to the cake shop. Lily had no romantic notions or feelings towards Lockie, but she enjoyed his company and although she would only admit it to herself, apart from Sister Therese, he was her only friend.

  ‘I nearly fell over twice on my way to work,’ she replied. ‘Have you got the horse out?’

  ‘No way. He’s still tucked up in the stable. There’s no point. I’ve nothing to put on the cart if there’s no ships in.’

  ‘Why aren’t you tucked up in bed then? You can have a day off, you lucky thing.’

  ‘No point in being in me bed, Lily, if there’s no one to keep me warm, is there?’

  Lily blushed to the roots of her hair. ‘Get lost, Lockie,’ she said. ‘Even if there was, you would have to get up to feed the horse.’

  Lockie stamped his feet up and down on the coconut mat and closed the door behind him. ‘Where is everyone?’ he asked, and then he let out a long, low whistle. ‘Wow, you’ve gone up in the world, haven’t you! Would you look at the cut of that desk.’ He walked over to the new desk and ran his fingers across the embossed green leather top. His finger traced around the gold filigree inlay.

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. It can’t be for me, surely?’

  Lily handed Lockie a mug of tea. It was her first job of the morning, to make everyone tea. In a second, she would carry a tray down on to the plant floor with two pint-sized mugs. One for Mr McConaghy and one for his brother-in-law.