by Annie Groves
‘We?’ Kitty asked and she saw a small cloud cover his face.
‘My fiancée. She had just passed her finals – with honours – and after our spectacular win we went off to Switzerland with her parents. We loved to ski.’
Kitty thought it all sounded very romantic and extremely exotic. Ski-ing! She had never been further than a day trip to North Wales. And the most exotic thing she had ever seen was a new-born lamb.
‘Where is she now?’ Kitty asked, wondering why he had asked her to come to the dance when he had a fiancée. He really was sending out all the wrong messages. Maybe they did that kind of thing where he came from but there was a name for people like that in their street. It wasn’t very pleasant and she did not want to acquire it.
‘She died,’ Elliott said quietly and then he was silent for a moment. Kitty didn’t know what to say except, ‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’ She and her big mouth. She always did ask too many questions. It was nerves. When Kitty could not think of anything worthwhile to say she asked questions. She tried to show interest, but sometimes – like now – she suspected she just sounded downright nosy!
‘It’s fine,’ Elliot said, looking a little wistful. ‘You weren’t to know … It’s my fault; I should have mentioned it earlier, when I told you about Professor Wetherby.’
‘He’s …?’
‘Her father. Oh, don’t look so worried, he thinks it is a wonderful idea I have finally crawled out of my shell and brought somebody to the annual shindig.’
‘But won’t he think—’
‘He won’t think anything. Anyway, life is for living. I realise that now.’
After that, Kitty couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so much. Elliott was the perfect gentleman and they danced the night away together. Despite her shyness, Kitty felt completely comfortable with him and he barely left her side all night. He told her all about his family and his training to be a doctor. Some of the stories he told her about the things he had seen on the ward would make your hair curl, but he did it with such humour and humanity, Kitty thought.
‘I’m having such a great evening, Kitty,’ he said, as they had a rest between dances.
‘Me too.’ Kitty was unaware of it but she was positively glowing.
At that moment, a young Wren passed by their table and stopped to chat to Kitty.
‘Hello, you’re that manager from the NAAFI canteen, aren’t you?’ she asked Kitty. The woman looked so handsome and exuded authority in her tailored uniform. How Kitty longed to be doing something useful.
‘Yes, that’s right. I’m Kitty Callaghan.’
‘My name is Carrie Buchanan. I’ve watched you at that canteen. You’re very good, you know, managing all those servicemen. You seem to be able to keep an awful lot of balls in the air. That’s something we need in the Wrens.’
‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly. I’m just good at dishing up six hundred meals a day and making sure no one drops any plates.’ Kitty blushed at the idea she’d ever be good enough to be a Wren.
‘You’d be surprised how handy a skill like that can be in wartime. Organisation and keeping a cool head are everything.’
‘Really?’ asked Kitty, incredulous that such things as she took for granted were taken seriously by the WRNS.
‘Why don’t you come in and have a chat to us? I’m at the recruitment office in town. We’d love to see you. Follow your heart, Kitty,’ Carrie Buchanan told her. ‘Faint heart and all that … This is the most exciting time women have ever known!’
And with that Carrie headed off to join her friends in the WRNS, who looked to be having a great time. Kitty felt something stir inside her that she had never felt before. Ambition, she thought they called it. Kitty did not know where this determination would lead her, but it had to be as far from Empire Street as she could get!
Her eyes were shining as she turned to Elliott. He smiled and his eyes were full of encouragement.
‘I hope you’ll have time to see a lowly doctor like me when you’re directing the war, Kitty?’
Kitty laughed as the bandmaster started counting down to midnight. Elliott pulled her up to the dance floor, they swayed to the strains of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ and wished each other Happy New Year.
‘They do say, Kitty, whoever you’re with on New Year’s Eve will be the person you’ll spend the rest of the year with,’ said Elliott.
‘I don’t know about that,’ said Kitty. ‘But this next year is definitely going to be different. I can feel it.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
‘D’you like this wallpaper, Eddy?’
Hark at me! Violet thought as she snuggled up to her man on the parlour sofa. They had finished their dinner made with the finest ingredients that Dolly could find and they were enjoying their precious time alone. Vi could not be happier. This was everything she ever dared dream of. A comfortable house. A supportive family and a husband who loved her. All she wanted was a home of her own – like most young people in these parts, of late.
‘Change the wallpaper?’ Eddy asked in mock horror. ‘Mam would faint clean away if you suggested redecorating. The wallpaper has got to be up for at least five years before anybody even thinks of changing it. By that time it is so yellow with soot we can never remember the original colour. Anyway, you can’t get wallpaper – there’s a war on, if you haven’t noticed.’
‘But, Eddy, it’s making me bilious! I can’t live with all those green stems. It’s bad luck!’
‘Bad luck?’ Eddy laughed. ‘You are so superstitious, Vi. You’re as bad as Mrs Kennedy – she went on a mile a minute at our Nancy’s wedding … How can a colour be bad luck?’
‘It is, I tell you. I’m only in here now because it’s the only place we can be on our own.’ Violet loved the way Eddy would do anything she asked; he was so easy-going. Not a bit like that brute her mother married.
‘Right,’ Eddy said, sitting up and looking into her lovely hazel eyes, ‘I’ll go straight down the town hall when they open and I’ll say my wife wants a house – with a garden.’
Vi laughed and nodded. She had never been happier.
‘Right – and a garden with no greenery!’
‘No, I don’t mind grass!’ She squealed with happiness.
‘But it’s green, Vi!’ Eddy shook his head. ‘Women! I’ll never understand them.’
‘Oh, Eddy, I’m that glad,’ she said and kissed the top of his nose. ‘Do you think they will give us a house?’
‘Not a chance!’ Eddy gave her a hug. ‘You can’t get a house for a big clock, so you can stay put and let Mam spoil you – after all you’ve been through losing your own mam and dad!’
Violet felt a little black cloud float over her head. It looked like it was now or never. She had to tell Eddy the truth. But what if he never forgave her? What if he stopped loving her, saw her as a fraud? Oh, this was going to be so difficult.
‘Come here and give us a kiss.’ Eddy pulled her towards him and so cut off the words she was just about to say. Tomorrow – she would definitely tell him tomorrow.
‘You are a daft ha’p’orth!’ Vi laughed, and the firm set of her aquiline features was softened, showing the girl Eddy had fallen in love with. ‘I s’pose we’ll have to wait until we’re old and grey before we can get a house of our own. It were bad enough before the war so it’ll be nigh on impossible now that Jerry has come and wiped a lot of property out.’
‘Never mind, Vi,’ Eddy said, taking her in his arms, ‘when the war’s over we’ll get our own place. I’m handy with a hammer, I’ll build you one.’
It were all right fer him, thought Vi, but what about when he had to go back? He didn’t have to put up with their Nancy day in and day out. Lordy lord, that one could moan for England.
‘I’ll make you a nice house with a garden and a little replica one in the garden for the children to play in,’ Eddy said, loving being here with her in the cosy parlour, no matter what colour the walls were.
‘Wil
l you, Ed?’ Vi’s voice was soft and dreamy. All she ever wanted was a home of her own and a man who loved her – but fifty per cent of that wasn’t bad right now. The children could come along later. She and Eddy had their whole lives ahead of them …
It wasn’t long, however, before their peace was shattered when Sarah came into the parlour asking if she could play the piano. Jack, Danny and Tommy had come over and everybody wanted a little singsong.
‘Go on, Vi,’ Eddy coaxed, ‘you’ll enjoy one of our little get-togethers! We’ll have a great time.’ Violet reluctantly agreed to share her beloved husband with the rest of his family and in no time she was in the back kitchen helping Dolly and Nancy make ham sandwiches.
‘Go easy with that butter, Nancy,’ Dolly said. ‘You’ve put half a week’s ration on that bread!’
Nancy rolled her eyes to the ceiling that had been badly cracked after the last air raid, wondering if there was any pleasing some people.
‘How long’s our Eddy home for?’ Nancy asked eventually and Vi told her he had to be back on board at eight the next morning. He’d had a good long holiday because the ship was being refitted.
‘You’ll miss him,’ Nancy said, wondering what Stan was doing now. She swallowed hard. Dolly’s words had made some impact, but she really wished she didn’t like Stan as much as she did, but she couldn’t help herself. It had been impossible to resist his advances and Nancy didn’t really want to. What had started out as a bit of fun had turned into something more. But she was more careful now – she had to be.
‘Shall I put mustard on this ham?’ Violet said, waving the yellow concoction she had just made under Nancy’s nose.
Instantly she felt her stomach heave and excused herself as she rushed to the privy.
Must have been all that chicken she scoffed. Violet did not voice her thoughts.
‘That rum Eddy brought home will be the culprit,’ Dolly said, unperturbed, as she cut the bread into thin slices – but leaving the crusts on to fill everybody up a bit.
Nancy rested the flat of her hand against the cold, whitewashed lavatory wall and watched the contents of her dinner disappear down the pan. She and Stan had been seeing each other whenever they could. If she was honest, Nancy thought when Stan took her in his arms that this was a true romance and not just a wartime fling. Stan understood her like no man had ever done before, including her husband.
‘Are you doing your voluntary work tonight as usual?’ Violet asked when Nancy came back into the kitchen.
Nancy turned towards her sister-in-law. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Her face glowed a guilty pink as she watched Violet quickly scrape the margarine on to thin slices of brown bread, and her stomach lurched again as Violet filled the bread with paper-thin slivers of ham.
Did Vi suspect something? Were they all talking about her?
‘It’s not supposed to mean anything,’ Vi said, efficiently cutting the column of sandwiches from corner to corner and then halving the triangles again, making dainty sandwiches. If this had been her own kitchen she’d have cut off the crusts for a bread and butter pudding; the Feenys liked to eat now and worry later – and, besides, nothing was ever wasted in this house.
A loud ran-tan on the front door sent Dolly scurrying down the long lobby. It was like Lime Street Station in here today, people in and out all day long. She opened the front door and to her dismay she saw the telegraph boy standing on the step.
‘Pop!’ Dolly called, knowing she did not have the strength for bad news today. Pop came out of the parlour where their Eddy was playing a lively tune on the old upright piano, while everybody was having a sing-song and really enjoying themselves.
‘It’s all right, love, you go in. I’ll see to it.’ Pop went to take the telegram but the boy held on to it.
‘Does Mrs Violet Feeny live here?’
‘Yes,’ Pop said slowly, cautiously. Thank God Eddy was home, otherwise they would have to pick his Dolly up off the floor. He turned to Violet, who was already behind him, having heard her name being mentioned.
She took the telegram and tore it open. It told her that her beloved mother, her poor mam, who was forever plagued by dark clouds of depression and bad luck, had been killed when the house took a direct hit.
Violet felt her shoulders sag and then the rest of her body seemed to crumble – unable to hold her upright. Her poor, poor mam! Why couldn’t it have been that horrible specimen who had never worked a full day in his life, while her mother had scrubbed her fingers to the bone keeping other people’s houses clean?
‘Oh, love,’ Dolly cried, taking Violet in her arms, ‘what is it? Who is it?’ She had never seen Violet lose her cool before and it worried her.
‘Mam,’ Violet said, ‘there’s something I’ve got to tell you. Can I have a word in the back kitchen, please?’
‘Of course, love.’ Dolly turned to her concerned family. ‘You lot go back into the parlour. We’ll be in shortly.’ She gave Eddy a little shake of the head that told him he too must wait.
Then, guiding Violet through to the back kitchen, Dolly placed her in a chair before she put the kettle on. Then she sat opposite.
‘Go on, love, tell me all about it.’
Nearly half an hour later, Eddy was allowed into the kitchen to comfort his wife. The tale had been told and then imparted to Eddy, and Violet felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. It was up to her husband what he was going to do next.
‘We take as we find, love,’ Eddy said, taking her in his arms as Dolly slipped quietly out of the room. ‘No airs and graces in this house.’
‘Oh, Eddy, I should have been honest with you. I’m not a vicar’s daughter.’
‘Our Vi, I’m so glad to hear it – Father Harding was beginning to ask questions. I couldn’t tell him I’d married outside the faith no matter how much I loved you,’ Eddy said, and he took her handkerchief from her and gently mopped away her tears. ‘I’m right sorry about your mam but let’s make a new start. No more secrets. I had my secrets, too, don’t forget, and for a while I thought I’d rather face them U-boats than tell Mam I’d married without her say-so.’
Violet gave a quiet version of her raucous laugh and then nodded and smiled through more tears. There was a bit of a rumpus in the other room and Vi quickly dried her eyes. She had been shown more compassion and – dare she say it – love, in this house than at any other time in her life.
‘Look who’s here!’ There was an excited squeal of delight coming from the hallway as Sarah opened the door.
‘It’s our Frank – he’s managed to get home, Mam!’
‘Oh, he’s a good lad getting home to his mother.’
‘To say nothing of his father,’ Pop said as he shook hands with his elder son. Frank laughed too, accepting the slaps on the back with good grace as he looked around the family, all gathered together in the parlour and the back kitchen where he always pictured them. But there was one face he did not see.
‘Our Kitty?’ said Tommy. ‘She’s went dancing with Dr Fitzgerald last night. She’s a bit delicate today.’ Tommy cupped his mouth with the palm of his hand and stage-whispered, ‘They’re courting, you know.’
‘You can see he has not signed the Official Secrets Act, can’t you, Frank?’ Nancy said, and Frank laughed, although there was no humour in it and it didn’t quite reach his lovely eyes.
Kitty had a sweetheart. A doctor, no less. He felt as if he was back on board ship, sure that the floor moved a little. Frank did not think he would be so disappointed. No, not disappointed. Devastated. He wanted to give her the good news that he was in Liverpool for the foreseeable, and that he’d been promoted, but that would not be of any interest to her now.
‘Hey, Frank – what do you think? Kitty’s thinking of joining the Women’s Royal Naval Service.’
‘So she’ll be leaving Empire Street after all.’
Frank steadied his racing heart as he took a deep breath. It was clear already that 1941 was going
to bring some big changes. A future without Kitty stretched ahead of him and for a moment he felt desolate. Then he glanced around at his family, from Pop to baby George. So much to be thankful for. Already there were more Feenys than there had been last New Year. Pray God they would all be spared to celebrate the next New Year’s Day together.
Discover how it all began for the residents of Empire Street in Child of the Mersey
For the ordinary people of Empire Street, life will never be the same again.
Kitty Fisher has plenty on her plate to keep her busy. Since her mother died when she was just a child, she’s cooked, cleaned and scraped to make ends meet for her drunken father and her headstrong brothers.
Rita Kennedy, living with her husband under the roof of his spiteful mother-in-law, is desperate for their own home. Perhaps that will help them get their marriage back on the rails again?
For the two women and others like them on Liverpool’s dockside and across the whole country, the threatening clouds of war will bring heartache and tragedy. It will take courage and the bonds of family and friends to help them see this through.
Click here to buy now
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I would like to acknowledge the tireless dedication of author and local historian Neil Holmes, whose specialist field is the Blitz on Merseyside and whose books, Liverpool Blitzed and Merseyside Blitzed, have been an inspiration.
Also, How We Lived Then by Norman Longmate is, I feel, the ultimate World War Two bible for writers of that era.
I also gladly acknowledge the dedication of Teresa Chris my agent, Kate Bradley my editor and the whole team at HarperCollins who give unsparingly of their time and expertise.
About the Author
Annie Groves was a pseudonym of the much-loved writer, Penny Halsall, who also wrote novels under the name of Penny Jordan. Penny was an international bestselling author of over 180 novels with sales of over 84 million copies. Penny was born and lived in the north-west of England all of her life and the Annie Groves novels drew on her own family’s history, picked up from listening to her grandmother’s stories when she was a child.
