Far away from here.
The journey into the city centre did not take as long as she expected, barely anybody embarking or disembarking from it.
The couple who sat cuddling together disembarked at Scotland Road, Sheila watching them walk along the pavement, his arms wrapped around her, both smiling and laughing.
How she wished her life was like theirs, holding hands and smiling, rather than cowering under a blanket, petrified this evening may bring another hiding for no reason whatsoever, other than the fact her husband revelled in being a nasty bastard.
The bus finally arrived at its destination in the City Centre, Sheila stepping from it and making her way towards her goal.
Masses of people walked passed her, the city centre bustling with life.
Stopping as she reached the doors to the imposing building, she inhaled a deep breath and pushed open one of the large two wooden doors, making her way inside.
Bloody hell!
The interior of the building appeared packed completely.
The sounds of families talking, the smells of cigarette smoke and in some cases sweat, pervaded her senses.
She glanced up at the tall ceiling, encased in a grey cloud of cigarette smoke.
It appeared she was not the only person with the idea of emigrating, the whole city of Liverpool appearing to her, deciding to embark on a mass exodus to pastures new.
Looking around, she discovered there were wooden seats arranged all around the centre of the vast room, but each one of these sat occupied.
The woman located behind one of the desks at the front of the room called out a surname, followed by a couple and at least several children standing up from the seats nearest to her, making their way to the front of the room.
Her legs and her feet, in her old shoes were aching, so she walked to one of the vacant seats, before feeling herself brushed aside as a scrawny looking man wearing a threadbare battered jacket budged her away.
“I was here before you Love, so do me a favour and piss off and wait your turn,” he said, sitting on the vacant seat.
Taking a step backwards, accustomed to the nastiness of men, she relinquished her goal of seating herself to take the ache from her legs, when it appeared the room fell into shadow as a huge figure appeared in front of her.
The sheer size of the man stood in front of her, totally obscured her view of the other man who pushed her aside, but she heard his gravelled voice, clearly enough.
“Please, let this lady sit down,” he said.
The scrawny man who settled into the seat, stared up at the behemoth of a man leaning over him.
“I was here before her,” he said, before having a good look at the man who addressed him.
Jesus Christ!
“No harm meant mate, err Ladies first after all and all of that eh?” He said, hastily standing up and rushing to the side of the room where it appeared half of Liverpool decided to congregate.
“Your seat,” the huge man gestured.
Not once in her life, had she encountered anybody as great in size as him, even in the few movies she watched.
He stood in an ill-fitting suit, the arms on the verges of ripping apart purely by the size of his muscles, clearly defined even through the suit adorning his huge bulk.
But his voice.
Though his voice spoke with a promise if the other man did not comply with his wishes, the consequences may be dire, they also held to her a sense of security, a sense of trust, a sense of a real man.
Slowly she looked up, turning her gaze to him.
He stood an imposing figure but his voice and…
Those eyes.
They changed colour, as each tiny ray of light through the solitary window in the crowded room struck them, holding within them variations of green, hazel, light brown and grey.
Each ray shining upon them, brought forth spots of dark brown and sparkles of gold.
They captivated her in a way she long thought forgotten.
“Your seat Miss,” he repeated, indicating to the seat with a huge hand.
“Oh sorry, I mean he was here first he said so I…”
“Miss, your seat,” he said, in the most beautiful voice she ever heard.
To somebody else, they may have sounded threatening, but to her, they reminded her of the gushing waters she once heard when she was on a rare holiday in the Lake District years before, hearing harsh waters of a waterfall, cascading upon the heavy rocks beneath.
Her eyes, catching his steely gaze, recognised in them a warmth and sense of a kindred soul.
He smiled at her warmly, altering the whole appearance of his chiselled hard features.
What originally appeared like the steely features of a man more suited to the fields and arenas of battle rather than Civvy Street, changed into the looks of a face she felt she could stare into for the rest of her life.
“Thank you,” she managed to utter, shaking herself from what appeared an enchanted trance, seating herself on the hard-wooden seat.
“My pleasure,” he said, smiling at her whilst she took her seat.
Waiting for, to her, an eternity, she cast a glance at the clock hung high on the wall to her right, knowing a similar clock hung on the wall to her left but, as it sat located above the head of the giant man, she did not want him to think she was staring at him.
I have to be back before Henry gets home, I need to have his dinner ready.
The man stood stock still, appearing to her staring ahead the entire time since they had arrived.
She failed to notice him staring at her occasionally, moving his gaze away quickly, lest she catch him.
Eventually the queue lessened, the room becoming considerably less occupied than previously.
“I do believe it’s your now turn Miss,” he said, as one of the tables became free, the civil servant type man behind it looking beleaguered and exhausted, shuffling the completed papers of the previous applicant around on his desk.
Looking up and catching her eye, he beckoned her over with his hand.
Her stomach felt in knots, but an unseen force tugging at her stomach, she found herself rising from her seat, heading in the direction of the waiting man.
Approaching the table, she became aware of the woman sitting adjacent to the man at an identical table, beckon somebody to her.
Sitting, she smiled shyly at the man sat directly in front of her.
“Name?” He asked her, not abruptly but in a manner suggesting he must have repeated this request all day long.
Pausing for a moment ready to speak, she heard the woman at the next table, ask the same question to the person now sat in front of her.
“Arne, Arne Kristian,” spoke the unmistakable baritone voice of the man previously stood near her.
Turning her head slowly, she caught his eyes, turning to look in her direction.
The man seated in front of her repeated his request for her name and, without turning her gaze away from the eyes captivating her into immobility, she mumbled, “Sheila, Sheila McCluskie.”
Nearly an hour passed, before she found herself making her way from the building after the ‘interview’ concluded.
“I thought, I’d be on the next ship away from here the length of time that took,” the low voice said from behind her.
Turning, she found herself yet again staring up into the eyes of the man with the godlike stature.
He was smiling at her and she felt herself again captivated by his eyes.
“I guess I imagined the same,” she replied, looking around to see if a clock stood nearby, panicking in the realisation she would be late returning home.
“I have to return here tomorrow to give them some more details, how about you?” He asked.
“Ohh, err, I have to wait a while longer,” she managed to utter.
“Oh, why is that if I may ask Miss McCluskie?” he asked.
“Because I am not Miss McCluskie, I am Mrs McCluskie,” she blurted out, averting her gaze
from him, feeling in turmoil for some reason, but saying the words regardless.
An awkward moment passed by with no response and she found herself returning her gaze towards him, to find him staring at her.
“I take it you walked into a door, resulting in you receiving a black eye? And Mr McCluskie is busy at home repairing the guilty door?” he asked, unsarcastically.
She completely forgot about the injury to her eye.
She hoped she managed to cover it with what scant items of makeup she possessed.
Sadly, it became a technique of hiding her bruises, she became accustomed to.
Against her better judgement, she found herself looking up towards his face and staring deep into his eyes, finding within them a look she had not experienced before.
His eyes conveyed to her a sense of protection, a feeling this man would protect his loved ones with his dying breath.
Jesus, what’s wrong with me?
Shaking herself from her reverie, she averted her gaze from his piercing eyes.
“I’m, I’m married like I said and I’ve had an accident, that is all,” she replied.
“Does the accident prevent you from having a cup of tea?”
“What?” She asked, perplexed.
“I was only asking, if the unfortunate accident would prevent you from having a cup of tea in say…”
His eyes scanned the huge buildings dominating the streets of Liverpool city centre, surrounding them as they stood upon the steps of the building.
“Say err, Lewis’ at two o’clock tomorrow afternoon?”
She stared at him, in shock and amazement.
I told him I’m married and he’s still offering to meet me for a cup of tea?
“Maybe, I’ll see, I err have to go grab my bus now.”
“Oh, alright,” he said, smiling, before turning and slowly descending the steps.
“Arne!” She called to his receding figure, not fully understanding the forces making her do so.
Stopping, he turned to face up the steps to where she remained.
“Yes?”
“Two o’clock you say?”
Jesus, what am I doing?
“Yes,” he answered, with a beatific smile she would not have imagined of a man possessing a stature as his.
“Maybe,” she replied, before turning and hastily rushing towards the bus station.
Chapter Ten
Running from the picture-house on Crosby road, with a multitude of other excited youngsters into the bright sunlight, the children laughed and joked amongst each other.
They laughed as the briskly blowing wind picked up a loose page from a discarded newspaper, causing it to rise into the air, its broad pages flapping as if belonging to some strange bird, before coming to a stop, catching Samuel in his face and wrapping around his head.
Scrambling at it with his wildly, flailing arms, he struggled to remove it.
“That was brilliant!” Jimmy shouted, jumping from the ground, punching his fist into the air.
“No, it wasn’t!” Samuel cried, crumpling the paper into a tight ball, before throwing it into the gutter.
“I was on about the matinee, not that,” Jimmy remarked with a laugh.
“Oh, alright,” Samuel replied, “I’m not sure about that new Dick Barton guy though.”
“I could be a special agent when I grow up,” Jimmy yelled, lifting the collars of his coat up to cover the sides of his head.
“C’mon, let’s go head to the beach,” Robert instructed them.
The several children walked along the pavement in the direction of Crosby, Jimmy and Frank jumping on and off the kerb.
Barbara, walking alongside Maisie with their arms linked together, looked at Robert from behind, studying his posture and the way he walked.
“What do you want to be Robert?” She asked him.
“What do I want to be what?” Robert asked, casting a quick glance over his shoulder at her, before returning his gaze forward when he caught her smile.
“When you grow up, what do you want to be?”
To their left, Jack, upon finding a broken twig on the ground, waved it about as a sword, before turning to his elder brother.
“You’re the eldest so you’ll get there way before us!” He said, laughing playfully.
“Har, har, har, very funny,” Robert replied, pulling a face at his sibling.
“No seriously, what do you want to be,” Barbara repeated her request.
He thought for a few moments, mulling the question in his young mind, before answering her without turning to meet her gaze.
“I did want to be like me Dah and join the navy but I think me Mam would not like that, so I won’t join as I don’t want to upset her”
Barbara smiled at the back of his head, following behind him.
Always thinking of others.
“So, I have decided to try and get into the police force when I’m old enough.”
Barbara’s smile widened.
A Policeman!
“Wow, a copper!” Jimmy exclaimed, overhearing the conversation, “Have you told your mam yet?”
“No, not yet. Anyway, I have plenty of time.”
The children spoke amongst themselves about what they wanted to be when they grew into adulthood, walking along the pavement.
Frank, a scientist; Jack, a footballer; Barbara, a nurse; Samuel, to take over his Father’s business and make it bigger, until he becomes rich enough to buy an island; Jimmy, an inventor or a spy; Maisie, to be a famous writer.
“How about you Wally?” Robert asked of his friend, now occupied with playing a game of balancing along the kerbstones.
Wally did not hesitate in his answer.
“I want to join the army and get ready for the next time the Germans want to try their luck,” he replied, carefully placing one foot directly in front of the other along the edge of the kerb.
The two girls giggled.
“Do you think they will?” Maisie asked.
“Yeah, they did it in world war one and again in world war two,” he replied, “they are a sneaky lot.”
“I think they’ve given up now after trying taking on us and the Americans,” Samuel said from behind Wally, following him in his game of balance.
“Maybe the next war will be with Martians!” Jimmy yelled, mimicking the sound of a ray gun, aiming his hands in the air, pretending to shoot imaginary spacecraft.
“Take that Ming!” He shouted towards the sky, the clouds overhead streaking swiftly across the blueness in the heavy wind.
“You’re touched in the head Jimmy lah,” Wally said, before he too joined in with his friend, fending off the imaginary Martian invasion.
“Look!” Barbara exclaimed, pointing her finger towards a shape in the distance further along the long road.
From College Road appeared the unmistakable figure of Comet, as Archie steered him in the direction of Crosby Village.
“Archie!” The children cried, virtually in unison.
Turning in his seat, Archie waved at them, bringing the cart to a stop.
“Piggy back time,” Robert said, kneeling on the pavement in front of his youngest sibling.
Climbing carefully onto his back, Daniel wrapped his arms around his brother’s shoulders as in turn, Robert gently and tenderly placed his own arms under his legs.
Hurrying along the pavement, they headed to the waiting cart.
“Hello, you lot,” Archie said from his seat, “where you off to?”
“Hiya Archie, we’re going to Burbo Bank, where are you going?” Robert replied.
“Oh, me and Comet here are taking a trip up to Little Crosby.” Archie replied, staring into the rear of his cart, empty save for a few cloth sacks, a couple of tools and some spare tack for Comet.
“We’ll give you a lift a bit of the way,” he said, “if you’d like?”
Excitably nodding their heads in agreement, the children climbed onto the rear of the cart.
“I
hope the Nelsons aren’t anywhere near the beach today,” Barbara said, after they travelled for several minutes.
“The Nelsons?” Archie asked, holding the reins and steering the cart through the length of Crosby Road.
“That’s why we’re going to Burbo Bank instead of the Marina,” Samuel said.
“Why’s that?”
“Oh, we had a run in with them yesterday,” Frank answered.
“They’re a nasty lot,” Masie added.
“You’ll find as you get older kids, there’ll always be someone out there waiting for the chance to have a run in with you.” Archie said, thinking back to his own run in with one of O’Leary’s men the day before.
Whilst they processed this, the saddened looks on their faces touched Archie’s heart and he smiled slightly, continuing to look along the long road.
“But I don’t think they will be giving you much trouble, not today any roads.”
“Why’s that Archie?” Barbara asked.
“Oh, I seen them going out today all dressed up in their finery and Sunday best,” he replied.
“They must be going to a wedding or something,” Jack said.
“Nah, nothing as nice as that. I hear the eldest lad, Maurice, Ian or something or other…” Archie said.
“Ian,” Wally interrupted, “is the oldest. Maurice is a bit older than me.”
“Oh, that’d make it Ian,” Archie continued, “any roads, seems he found himself caught up in some trouble, not too sure what, and is appearing in court today. Looks like they’ve gone along to give him some moral support.”
“Sounds like them, only hard if they’re together, never alone,” Jimmy stated.
“Aye, it’s the way of life with a lot of people,” Archie replied, “only ever become brave or tough if they’re in a bunch or if they’ve had some Dutch courage down them.”
Wally knew there were some people on the other hand, truly nasty by their own, if they were picking on women or children.
“So, where’ve you lot been today?” Archie asked, deeming it fit to change the topic of the conversation away from bullying and confrontation, knowing these were good children, who should enjoy their break from school.
“We have been to the matinee!” Jack replied loudly.
Comet Page 7
