The Mersey Girls

by Sheila Riley

  The floats – flat-backed wagons pulled by horses – were also a good advertisement for businesses, trying to outdo each other with the best decorations. From local breweries and coal merchants to small shops with decorated messenger bikes, every business marketed their wares and the streets were lined with flag-waving people from Liverpool to Litherland. A five-mile stretch of potential customers.

  Evie recalled Lucy, in a pushchair, waving her flag in her little chubby fist, being pushed along by her or Jack or Mam, who would treat them to an ice cream from the Italian ice-cream man with his cart on wooden wheels. And she remembered seeing Mr Skinner’s float drawn by two huge Clydesdales carrying the May Queen on a golden throne and surrounded by her entourage. Evie felt all nostalgic at the memory of that wonderful day.

  ‘Right then,’ Mr Skinner said, heading out of the office and snapping Evie out of her reverie, ‘you know where I am if you need anything. The flighty one will be back tomorrow, no fear.’

  ‘No fear at all.’ Evie knew he had left some important decisions to Susie for far too long and, by the look of things, she had taken full advantage.

  Evie looked round the office with a sense of pride. The entire place smelled of polish and possibility. Things were looking up, at least whilst Susie was out of the office – oh, and she must remember to dock her wages. Start as she meant to go on.

  8

  ‘Hello, Evie!’ Just as Mr Skinner had predicted, Susie Blackthorn’s navy-blue peep-toe shoes clip-clipped across the polished linoleum floor, albeit three hours late, the following morning, and Evie looked up from her rows of figures. Susie was glamorous, in a slender calf-length pencil skirt that hugged her trim figure. A pale blue hip-length swagger coat with deep turned-back cuffs topped off her matching navy-blue peplum jacket. Removing the swing coat, Susie hung it on the hook behind the door as if the events of the day before had never happened.

  ‘Hello, Susie,’ Evie said, looking at her wristwatch. She would let the matter go, but only for today. ‘I like your suit.’

  ‘Oh, this old thing.’ Susie’s smile looked forced and did nothing to conceal her look of displeasure as she took her seat behind her desk. ‘It’s just something I had in the back of the wardrobe. I only wear it for work.’

  Pull the other one, it’s a call to Sunday mass, Evie thought, returning a matching smile.

  ‘I was sure you wouldn’t be coming back when I saw the time getting on,’ Evie said, knowing her lifelong nemesis would try it on just to see what she could get away with.

  ‘I had a doctor’s appointment.’ Her scarlet smile stretched a little. ‘Skinner never asks questions about women’s ailments.’

  ‘It is Mr Skinner to you,’ Evie said, knowing Susie’s days of slacking were over. From today, she would do as she was told.

  ‘You might not feel so loyal when you find out they’re not as squeaky clean as they seem,’ Susie said, ‘but I know things. Things that Skinner and Meggie wouldn’t want made public.’

  ‘Just do your job.’ She knew Susie was a troublemaker and loved nothing better than to put other people down to make herself look important, but Evie had no intentions of letting Susie get the upper hand this time. ‘I don’t listen to gossip and nor should you.’

  ‘You’ll kick yourself for not listening when this comes out, and so will Ada.’

  ‘Not interested, Susie.’ Evie knew first-hand that rumours could turn even the best of intentions into something ugly and malicious, bringing nothing but misery. Her thoughts sprang to her own father, who had destroyed the woman he adored in a fit of unfounded rage.

  ‘Grace is coming home, and she’s only got herself engaged.’

  Evie nodded her head, trying to concentrate on her work.

  ‘It’s all right for some.’ Susie was in the mood for talking instead of working. ‘Grace will be a famous recording star one day, according to Ada, but mothers always think their kids will be the next gigantic thing, don’t they?’ Susie gave a hollow laugh at her own remark and got up to put the kettle on in the back staffroom. ‘Grace think she’s Vera Lynn.’

  ‘I thought she was your friend,’ Evie said, trying not to engage and failing.

  ‘She is my friend,’ Susie said in a tone that told Evie she had misunderstood. ‘I was just saying she’s full of herself sometimes, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, she doesn’t need enemies while she’s got you as a friend, that’s for sure,’ Evie replied when Susie brought only one cup of tea into the office and sat down behind her typewriter, not even bothering to remove the cover.

  ‘I was only saying…’ Susie flapped her hands. ‘You’ve taken my words the wrong way, Evie.’

  ‘Far from it.’ Now she came to think about it, Evie realised Susie and Ada got on so well because they were both as bad as each other.

  ‘I’m like one of the family,’ Susie said. ‘I would say nothing out of turn.’

  ‘Ada wouldn’t let you.’ Evie kept her tone civil, suspecting an endless day, and she was in no mood to listen any more. ‘I’m going for my dinner and have to feed the cat.’

  ‘I didn’t know you had a cat,’ Susie said, looking out of the window at the yard lads.

  ‘We haven’t,’ Evie whispered as she covered her typewriter and noticed Danny busy working in the yard. Susie had yet to get Danny to step out with her, Evie knew. The entire street knew she had been trying to net Danny for years. Some even laughed behind her back. It was pitiful, Evie thought, but she had to give Susie top marks for determination. ‘Right,’ she said, ‘I’m off home for my dinner, you can go when I get back.’ Start as you mean to go on was her new mantra, and Evie said it to herself a few times every day.

  9

  Grace let the hot water cascade down her face and body, feeling a bit off colour this morning and putting it down to the hard work and late nights with Bruce. Grace had given herself willingly, knowing without a doubt that she loved him, not as a sugar-daddy, but as a person in his own right. And he loved her right back.

  ‘I couldn’t let you leave,’ Bruce had said as they lay curled in each other’s arms after they left New York, ‘not without letting you how much I love you and how much I would miss you.’

  A gentle knock on her cabin door roused Grace from her thoughts and, wrapping a huge bath sheet round her slim, damp body, she stepped out of the shower and padded over to the dressing table.

  The ship had docked in Cork and the Irish weather was calm and sunny – a far cry from the last time the ship visited. Maybe a short walk round Cobh harbour would quell her fragile stomach, Grace thought, wrapping a soft towel turban-style round her mane of wet hair.

  ‘Come in,’ she called, having taken the ‘do not disturb’ sign off the door when she had thought about ordering breakfast, and then doubted she could eat anything.

  ‘Hello, darling, I come bearing gifts. I do hope you’re hungry?’ Bruce ushered a first-class steward into Grace’s suite, and she spun round, feeling exposed without her face on. But she refused to feel self-conscious under his pondering gaze.

  ‘That would be nice,’ she said, wondering if she could manage to keep food down. But as Bruce had gone to so much effort, she could not refuse. Bruce was the most wonderful man she had ever met, so kind, so sensitive. He was just wonderful.

  It would be heart-breaking when they had to go their separate ways when the ship docked in Liverpool on Tuesday. Two more precious nights together and then it would all be over. Now she knew how women felt when their men went off to war, not knowing if they would ever see each other again.

  Bruce pulled out a chair for Grace to sit in before taking the seat opposite, while the white-jacketed steward hovered on the periphery.

  ‘What would you like?’ Bruce asked, positioning a pristine napkin on his knee.

  ‘Just fruit juice and coffee for me, I’m not really hungry.’ Grace was grateful Bruce didn’t labour the point and said he would have the same. With his tender heart and loving respect, he showed her, more
than any man she had ever known, how a woman should be treated.

  She had not been so naïve as to hope his feelings for her were true love when they first met, suspecting they would last no longer than the outbound trip. His lovemaking, though, was a balm to the raw wounds inflicted upon her by an uncaring, selfish man who used her in a way that nobody who was ever loved should be treated.

  ‘What do you say to taking in a little sightseeing?’ Bruce asked. ‘It might make you feel better.’

  ‘Do I look ill?’ Grace felt a moment of panic and Bruce immediately allayed her alarm with a gentle kiss.

  ‘No, my darling,’ he said, ‘you look absolutely beautiful.’

  Grace felt much better after a sightseeing trip round the south coast of County Cork. In two days she would be back in Reckoner’s Row in the fold of her family, being bombarded on all sides with questions. Ma would get the sherry out, while Da might even shift himself from his chair – if he were not in the Tavern, that is.

  ‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ Bruce said, breaking into her thoughts as they strolled round the sunny harbour and called into a small, intimate cafe. They sat at a table covered with a green gingham cloth near the window. His handsome face unusually bleak. ‘I dismissed Clifford Brack from the company,’ Bruce said when the waitress, dressed in a black dress covered by a white frilled apron, served tea, and left them to it.

  ‘You have?’ Grace was unsurprised at the immediate relief she felt, knowing she would never have to see his glowering face again.

  ‘When you told me what he had done to you, I wanted him off the ship immediately, but that would have thrown up all kinds of problems, which I won’t go into right now.’ Bruce suspected Clifford of smuggling diamonds into Liverpool, but he needed proof. When customs men searched his cabin this morning, they had found enough stolen gems to keep Clifford in luxury for the rest of his days. But Bruce had no intentions of upsetting Grace with the ugly truth. ‘Sufficient to say, he will not be allowed back on board and he will never work on a D’Angelo ship ever again.’

  ‘You did that for me?’ Grace said, her hands trembling when she put down her cup on the matching porcelain saucer. Nobody had ever done as much for her as Bruce.

  ‘Why wouldn’t I?’ Bruce asked as if it was the most natural thing in the world to fire the Entertainments Director because he had upset one of the singers. ‘Grace, you really must start believing in yourself. That man should have been flung overboard for what he did to you and, if I had my way, I would have been the one to do it.’ Bruce got up and Grace rose from her seat, and right there in front of the other customers, she kissed him.

  ‘I love you Grace Harris,’ Bruce said, and she felt dizzy with delight. She may only have this wonderful man for two more nights, but they were going to be ones they would both remember for a long time.

  ‘Will your family be waiting when we dock?’ Bruce asked out on deck, as Grace looked across the River Mersey towards her hometown, her feelings mixed. While the sight of The Liver Birds welcomed her home, her heart was shattered into a million pieces.

  ‘I prefer to join them at home.’ Please don’t ask me any more questions about them.

  ‘I’m in Liverpool for a few nights,’ Bruce said, ‘I would love to have dinner with you? I could even meet your folks if you let me.’

  Grace blanched. She hadn’t thought of that, reluctant for Bruce to see the dockside street she came from.

  ‘You could,’ Grace stalled, knowing this would probably be their final goodbye. She would miss him so much. Her heart was already broken at the thought.

  ‘Give me your telephone number,’ Bruce said while scribbling the number of his hotel on the back of a photograph. A picture of the couple laughing on a Caribbean beach. ‘Or I could come pick you up?’

  ‘No, no, I will ring you tomorrow.’ She took the number of the Adelphi Hotel, where he was staying, and as they did not own a telephone, nor did anybody else in Reckoner’s Row, except Connie and Angus in the Tram Tavern, she wrote down two numbers. ‘Here’s my number, too.’ She knew the number of the telephone box on the corner off by heart and, somebody passing would willingly run and get the person being called. ‘If you don’t get an answer, you can call this number,’ Grace said, writing down the number of the Tram Tavern.

  ‘This trip has been the best yet,’ Bruce said, and Grace knew this was the one she would remember forever. She had fallen for Bruce from that first moment, when he was sitting alone, reading The Great Gatsby.

  ‘You’re the pal I didn’t know I needed,’ she said, her voice almost a whisper.

  ‘We are more than pals… Much more,’ Bruce assured her, and as Grace sank into the depths of his dark glossy eyes, she could see the fire burning deep inside. And she wanted to throw her arms round him. Capture and keep him forever. Never let him go.

  ‘Let’s not make declarations we won’t keep.’ Grace wished she could fight this love she felt so deeply. It would be easier. But she had fallen hook, line and sinker for Bruce. ‘I have been asked to go to London,’ she told him. ‘I’ve been offered a contract to record a new television show.’ Television was becoming popular since the war, but many people could not afford a television set, much less own one, so she was taking a gamble.

  ‘Did Brack organise the contract?’ Bruce asked, and Grace nodded. Her eyes registering the belief that Clifford had spun her a web of lies.

  ‘You know I can’t keep secrets from you, don’t you?’ Bruce said, putting the scrap of paper she gave him in his inside pocket, and caught the eye of the purser who came and took her luggage.

  ‘Yes, I know that,’ she nodded; Bruce told her everything.

  ‘Well, I was going to tell you something over dinner, but I’m not so sure you will turn up.’

  ‘Why would you think that?’ Grace sounded as hurt as she felt. ‘Of course I’ll turn up.’

  ‘In that case,’ Bruce said playfully, his finger trailing the outline of her face, ‘I will save it until then.’

  ‘Save what?’ Grace was insatiably curious, and he knew it. Her heartbeat quickened. ‘Tell me.’

  However, Bruce shook his head and, slipping his arms round her waist, pulled her gently towards him and nothing else mattered.

  10

  ‘Hiya, Ma,’ Danny took off his cap and jacket and gave Ada a quick peck on her upturned cheek.

  Ada didn’t respond to his greeting as she took five dinner plates down from the shelf and elbowed the ginger tomcat off the wooden draining board. Danny could see his mother was getting herself into a tizzy.

  ‘Does Susie have to come tonight, Ma?’ Danny said, reaching for the carbolic soap on the window ledge above the sink.

  ‘Ambushed me outside the Tram Tavern this dinnertime, she did, just as your father was sloping in the other door.’ Ada chattered on while Danny washed his hands, ‘I can’t be doing with her wittering on. Our Grace might bring her new chap here to meet me.’

  ‘He might like to meet the rest of us too,’ Danny answered with his usual chirpy tone, also wanting to hear about his sister's escapades at sea.

  'You can catch up later, take Susie out somewhere,' Ada said, impatiently. She was looking forward to meeting Grace’s fi-ancee, so she could pass on every detail to her good friend Mim Sharp.

  'I could give him the once-over and see if he’s most suitable for our salubrious little family.’ Danny was being flippant but knew his mother had not interpreted his comment in such a way when she nodded.

  ‘Aye, I suppose there is that, because we’ll get no sense out of your father when he’s had a skinful in the Tavern.’

  Danny shook his head. He had been all round the world with the army and his mother never showed much interest – until he was handing over money.

  ‘I hope your father doesn’t come in sozzled and make a show of me in front of Grace’s chap.’ Ma believed he depended on her alone and his father let her, knowing full well that’s what she needed to feel. Or, maybe that was just
his da, who had been waited on hand and foot since the day they wed. Because Ma let him get away with it.

  ‘I can see you’ve been busy,’ he said, knowing she had scrubbed and polished until the house gleamed in readiness for her daughter’s homecoming.

  ‘It’s only what we’re used to,’ Ada said, and Danny cocked an easy-going eyebrow, his ma could be so stiff and proper, even though she reckoned she hardly had two pennies to rub together. Although, he had to admit, when money was needed on the quick, she always knew where to lay her hand on some. ‘You were brought up a gentleman,’ Ada continued, ‘and that’s an end to the matter.’

  Danny knew it would not be an end to the matter. She was nowhere near finished. He knew her superior attitude had been adopted when she worked in upper-class households as a housekeeper, before she married Da, and she had kept it ever since.

  He felt a bit sorry for her, if the truth was told, knowing she had not had life easy, working part-time in the Tavern and bringing up two small children while his father was rarely able get a start on the docks. Mortified when she had Bobby after thinking her child-bearing days were over. Especially when his da was more out of work than in it through choice.

  ‘Did you ever travel, Ma?’ Danny asked, knowing his mother had never ventured further than she had to.

  ‘Not since coming over from Ireland,’ Ada sighed. ‘My penance for a hasty marriage was a quick trip up the aisle. I moved in here with two children – both born in the space of ten months – Bobby came much later – it was no joke I can tell you.’

  ‘I’m sure it wasn’t.’ Danny felt responsible for his mother’s irritation and tried to lighten her sombre mood. ‘Although, your prayers were answered when you got this house.’

  ‘I had to go through the heartache of living with a bitter, twisted, miserly old aunt to get it though.’ Ada’s back stiffened and Danny changed tack, knowing his mother could not abide being reminded of her good fortune.