Flowers on the Mersey

by June Francis

  She felt certain his brother had not told him everything. ‘This morning Papa’s going to check the passenger list to see if you’re both on it,’ she said quietly.

  ‘He’ll find no trace of Shaun. I smuggled him aboard.’

  ‘Papa’s very determined.’

  He nodded. ‘He’ll still have difficulty. I wish I’d left Shaun at home now. He’s always been trouble. I spent more time getting him out of fixes than myself when we were kids.’

  ‘I thought it was your older brothers who were the troublemakers?’

  He grimaced. ‘They were, but Mam always said it was Daddy’s fault. When he got drunk he was like a mad hog. I remember kicking him back once when he hit me. I was about five, and he landed me such a clout that my ear swelled up and I couldn’t hear properly for days. It got so bad in the end that I was glad when he became ill and died.’

  She was horrified. ‘Papa was never like that! It’s just lately that—’

  ‘He’s frightened and worried,’ interrupted Daniel in a positive voice. ‘He’s not young to be taking such a big step as emigrating.’

  ‘He doesn’t seem to be bothered about that,’ murmured Rebekah.

  ‘He wouldn’t tell you.’

  ‘No.’ She was silenced for a moment, then she murmured, ‘What will we do if he does find out you’re on the ship?’

  ‘He hasn’t yet. Let’s worry about it another day.’ He pulled her towards him and for a while there was no more talk.

  They resumed talking about her father when some people came up on deck. ‘If you weren’t a Catholic and a rebel, he might accept you,’ said Rebekah.

  ‘But I am,’ Daniel said emphatically.

  She stared at him. ‘People do get round the religious thing. My parents did.’

  ‘Nobody’s ever done it in our family.’

  ‘There’s always a first time.’

  Daniel shook his head at her. ‘Do you realise me mam would spin in her grave? She was always wanting me to settle down with a nice respectable Catholic girl, schooled by the nuns and as innocent as a newborn chick. In fact I know one in Liverpool. A friend of me cousin. She’d bear me numerous children, all to be raised as good, clean-living Catholics.’

  Immediately Rebekah felt threatened. ‘What’s this girl’s name?’

  ‘Marie. She’s got the softest brown hair and goes to mass every day.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘She knits me socks and prays that I’ll be a reformed character. Me cousin Maureen told me that’s so.’

  ‘Her prayers don’t seem to be working very well,’ said Rebekah, raising her eyebrows. ‘Have you kissed her?’

  ‘Only the once.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘She didn’t take to it like you. All screwed up for it she was. It was like kissing a prune. But I’m sure she’d make a faithful, dutiful wife.’

  ‘She sounds too good to be true.’

  ‘Sure, and she’s an angel.’

  Rebekah looked him squarely in the face. ‘Then she should be in Heaven – with your mother, if she’s the kind of girl she wants.’

  He shook his head at her in mock reproof. ‘If I had any sense and was a good, clean-living Catholic, she’s the girl I should think of marrying. But when a man’s in love it’s not clean living he’s thinking about. It’s kissing and cuddling, and—’ His look said the rest and she could only agree with him because inside she had that physical ache for him again. She tried not to think about the future but went into his arms.

  It was on the way down the companionway that they met Rebekah’s mother going up. She wished desperately that she could have escaped with the barest, ‘Hello, Mama.’ And she did press Daniel’s arm, hoping he would take the hint and go ahead, but he did not.

  ‘I’ve been wondering where you were,’ said her mother, addressing Rebekah, but staring at Daniel.

  ‘I’m hoping you won’t mind my walking with your daughter?’ he said, taking off his cap. ‘It’s nice and fresh on the boat deck. Unlike the engine room.’ He held out a hand. ‘I’m—’

  ‘This is – Willie Smith, Mama,’ interrupted Rebekah. ‘I met him at the Entertainment. He asked me to walk round the deck with him.’

  Her mother shook Daniel’s hand. ‘How do you do, Mr Smith?’

  ‘Very well, thank you.’ He avoided looking at Rebekah and she did not look at him as he exerted his charm. ‘And yourself, Missus? Miss Rhoades was telling me that you haven’t been well.’

  ‘I’m much better, thank you.’

  ‘I’m pleased to hear that. If you aren’t minding, I’ll be leaving Miss Rhoades with you as I’m on duty within the half hour. It’s been nice meeting you.’ He looked in Rebekah’s direction. ‘I enjoyed our walk.’ She murmured polite agreement and did not watch him go.

  ‘A nice-looking and polite young man, but not Mr Eaton,’ said her mother calmly.

  ‘I never said I’d been with Mr Eaton.’ Rebekah fiddled with her glove, and looked down the steps.

  ‘So you didn’t. Shall we see if the air is still fresh on the boat deck?’ Her mother ascended the stairs.

  Rebekah followed her. ‘Where’s Papa?’

  Her mother ignored her question. ‘I presume that you were with Mr Smith last evening?’

  Rebekah was about to tell a lie but changed her mind. What purpose would it serve. ‘Yes, Mama.’

  ‘Your father’s worked up about some young man.’

  ‘Mr Eaton?’ Rebekah picked a piece of cotton from her sleeve.

  Her mother looked at her severely. ‘I was your age once, Becky. I saw the way the pair of you didn’t look at each other.’

  Rebekah dropped the thread. ‘Didn’t look at each other?’

  ‘Yes! It’s in case you give anything away. If two people like each other, they can’t easily hide it. They try. How your father and I tried to keep it from our Esther and my father!’

  ‘Mama—’ began Rebekah.

  ‘I won’t say don’t see him,’ interrupted her mother, clasping her hands. ‘In fact, I won’t even say bring him to meet your father.’

  ‘I wouldn’t,’ said Rebekah quietly. ‘We’ve made no arrangements. He has duties.’

  ‘Duties.’ Her mother smiled. ‘Of course, he’s a sailor. I used to adore sailors. We had plenty of them coming into our shop, trying to sell us things. The ones I met always had exciting tales to tell. The only trouble was that our Esther would always hover. But he seems a decent enough young man. Irish blood somewhere, I think.’

  ‘He has family in Liverpool,’ said Rebekah quickly.

  ‘Don’t half the Irish?’ Sarah hesitated. ‘Anyway, next time you see him, if it’s evening have him escort you to our cabin. That way you’ll be safe from drunkards. Now let’s go and have some of that fresh air.

  She put her hand through Rebekah’s arm and urged her out on deck, changing the subject to talk of apartments in New York. Rebekah let her talk flow over her, trying not to worry whether her mother would tell her father about the meeting with Daniel.

  ‘Well, Becky, there aren’t any O’Neills down on the passenger list,’ said her father, at the lunch table. ‘But don’t be thinking I’ve given up. They could be using a different name. Or they could be crew working as deckhands.’

  Trust her father to put them down as deckhands, thought Rebecca mutinously, aware of her mother’s gaze.

  ‘Who are these O’Neills, Adam?’ asked Sarah.

  ‘Bloody rebels.’ he muttered, putting down his teacup.

  ‘Language, Adam,’ murmured Rebekah’s mother. ‘What would rebels be doing on a ship going to America?’

  ‘Their president’s in America. They could be taking messages.’

  His wife’s hand slackened on her fork. ‘I don’t think that’s going to affect us, Adam. Shall we talk of something else.’

  He changed the subject and Rebekah breathed easier. She caught Brigid’s eye but the Liverpudlian remained silent and later followed her out of the dining room. ‘I take it,’ she said, �
�that the fella you told me about, and one of the O’Neills yer dad mentioned, are one and the same person?’

  Rebekah leant on the rail, and put her chin in her hand. ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘I know a Daniel O’Neill.’ Brigid’s elbow nudged hers. ‘His auntie lives in our street.’

  ‘That’s a coincidence,’ said Rebekah, not sure whether she was pleased or not that Brigid should know Daniel.

  ‘They happen. He’s a nice bloke. Friendly like. No sides.’

  Rebekah sighed. ‘We bumped into my mother and I wanted him to make a quick exit, but he didn’t budge and had to go and be nice to her. I’m worried in case she tells Papa.’

  ‘I presume he didn’t use his own name.’

  ‘I introduced him as Willie Smith.’

  ‘Smith? Real original.’

  Rebekah allowed herself a smile. ‘It was the best I could do on the spur of the moment.’

  ‘What are yer going to do? Yer dad seems pretty determined to find Danny.’

  ‘I know.’ Rebekah bit on a nail. ‘I’ll have to wait and see.’

  ‘It might be best if you stopped seeing him.’

  Rebekah’s eyes clouded and she took her finger out of her mouth. ‘I can’t! I just can’t! Even if Papa beat me—’ The words were low and intense.

  Brigid’s expression was concerned. ‘I’d think about it if I were you, luv.’

  ‘I already have,’ said Rebekah, and walked away to make a fruitless search of the decks for Daniel.

  Supper passed without incident and she decided after listening to Brigid’s talk about the Entertainment and the dancing that followed, she might as well go along and see what went on. She changed into a new skirt and the eau-de-Nil crêpe-de-Chine blouse her aunt had bought her. On her way in she met Daniel, who immediately led her outside.

  ‘Why did you have to interrupt me when I was talking to your mother?’ he demanded.

  ‘I thought—’

  ‘I know what you thought.’ He pulled her hand through his arm. ‘If you’d waited for me to finish, Becky love, you’d have heard me tell your mother that my name was Peter Riley. You saying Smith complicates things. There isn’t one on this ship.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Papa said that you might be going under another name, and that you could be members of the crew! He’s not going to give up, Daniel.’

  ‘Well, he’s not going to find an O’Neill amongst the crew.’

  ‘If he gets at the truth—’ Her expression clouded.

  The corners of his mouth tightened. ‘I don’t want you getting hurt because of me.’

  ‘He mightn’t hit me,’ she said with difficulty. ‘He could just try and make sure that I don’t see you again.’

  He nodded. ‘I’d prefer that.’

  ‘You would?’

  ‘There’s always a way round things. Didn’t I get on this ship?’ He pulled her into the shadows and into his arms.

  Rebekah held him tightly, still scared. ‘It’ll be New York soon and Papa’ll make sure he keeps me away from you.’

  ‘I’ll think of something.’

  She hoped he could but was still worried. She kissed him with a desperation she had never felt before.

  Their kisses became more passionate, grew wilder, and his hands began to roam her body. He unbuttoned her blouse and eased the garment down to her waist, flicking off the straps of her underskirt. She looked into his face and it was soft with desire. She felt a quivering sensation in her stomach and a rush of anticipation. His mouth was on her neck, throat, breasts, covering her with little kisses, sending tremors through her. She felt like a volcano on the simmer and was aware that he was trembling with desire too.

  Then unexpectedly he drew away and turned to the boat on their right. He climbed up and began to unfasten its covering, threw it back and pulled her up and inside the boat.

  It was not the most comfortable place she had ever been in, but she rid herself of her clothes. Her breasts tingled as they brushed his bare chest and then his mouth was fastened on hers again and he began to explore and caress her all over as he had done once before. They moved together as if their bodies were moulded out of the same clay and she held on to him with all her strength. When she finally arched against him, he kissed her to drown the cry that rose in her throat and then withdrew quickly, moaning.

  Afterwards they lay in each other’s arms. ‘We can’t risk that again, Becky love,’ murmured Daniel. ‘It was a near thing. I wouldn’t shame you.’

  ‘It might mean that they would have to let us marry.’

  A sharp laugh escaped him. ‘He’d lock you away first. It’s not going to be easy.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I have to go back to Ireland.’

  ‘I’ll go with you.’ She hesitated. ‘There or Liverpool.’

  ‘You still don’t want to go back to Ireland.’ His voice suddenly sounded weary.

  ‘I’ll go wherever you want me to.’

  He sighed and sat up. ‘I should give you up.’

  ‘But you won’t?’ There was a note of panic in her voice.

  ‘Not if I can help it,’ he said soothingly.

  They kissed and got out of the boat. He fastened the cover back. His hand caressed the side of her face. ‘I love you, Becky.’ He kissed her again. ‘I’ve got to go. I’m on duty soon. I’ll see you early tomorrow evening. Perhaps we can go dancing? It would be more sensible.’

  She nodded and they parted.

  Rebekah had hoped that her father might still be in the smoking saloon when she returned to the cabin but he was lying on his bunk, fully dressed, filing his nails.

  ‘Where were you, miss, when I looked in on the Entertainment?’

  ‘What time was that?’ She slipped off her jacket and placed it on the top spare bunk.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what time it was, you weren’t there. With Mr Smith, were you, on the boat deck?’

  She glanced quickly at her mother, who did not lift her eyes from her book, but Rebekah could tell from the stiff way she held her shoulders that she was no longer reading. She moistened her mouth. ‘I was with Mr Smith. He’s good company.’

  ‘He isn’t on any of the lists!’ Her father flung the nail file on the bed and sat up. ‘Perhaps it was Mr Jones? Maybe Mr Riley or Mr Merriman? Then again it might be none of them but Shaun O’Neill’s brother!’

  Rebekah cleared her throat. ‘I thought you said there were no O’Neills on this ship?’

  ‘That was before I saw one of them standing at the bar in the smoking saloon. He had gone before I could get to him but I’m sure it was the younger one.’ He slid down from his bed. ‘If I find the other one, I’ll have them both clapped in irons.’

  Rebekah moistened her lips. ‘You’re being melodramatic, Papa. We’re not in England now. You can’t just arrest people!’

  ‘I have influence on this ship,’ he said in a manner that was very convincing.

  She threw a look at her mother, who had put down her book and was twisting a long strand of her loosened hair in an agitated manner.

  ‘Come here, miss.’ Her father’s words were quietly spoken.

  To Rebekah they seemed all the more threatening than if he had shouted, and she stayed where she was.

  ‘Don’t provoke me, Becky,’ he said. ‘I only want to ask you a question and get an honest answer from you.’

  ‘Adam, don’t you think it’s a bit late—’ began his wife.

  ‘Don’t interfere,’ muttered her husband, covering the couple of feet that divided him from his daughter. His expression darkened as he seized hold of her arm. He fingered her blouse, which was open at the neck, and pushed her head to one side. He prodded his thumb against her skin. ‘What’s this? And where did you get this thing you’re wearing?’

  ‘It’s a blouse that Aunt Esther gave me, Papa!’ She attempted to pull away.

  ‘I know it’s a blouse,’ he whispered. ‘D’you take me for a bloody fool. But what’s the mark on your bloody
neck? You look like you’ve been bloody bit.’

  ‘It was an insect.’ It was the first thing that came into her head.

  ‘At sea? You wore the blouse for him, I suppose?’ he said in a seething voice, and caught her a blow across the side of her head. ‘Get it off and don’t let me see you wearing it again. It’s cheap and it’s nasty and makes you look common.’

  ‘It is not cheap,’ said Rebekah, suddenly firing up. ‘It cost Aunt Esther a lot of money!’

  ‘Esther!’ He seized on the word. ‘It’s her influence that’s caused you to defy me. She’s never liked me.’

  ‘Can’t this all wait till in the morning?’ said his wife in a trembling voice. ‘You’ll be waking people.’

  He stared at her and visibly controlled himself, releasing Rebekah’s arm. ‘You get ready for bed, Sally. She can go to bed too, but she can give me that blouse first. It’s too provocative.’

  Rebekah rubbed her arm. ‘What are you going to do with it?’

  ‘Just give it to me,’ said her father.

  She eased her throat. ‘It’s mine. Aunt Esther bought it for me. You’ve no right—’

  Adam’s face began to change colour. ‘Don’t tell me I have no rights! Women have got too much to say for themselves these days. Now give me that blouse,’ he thundered.

  The colour ebbed from Rebekah’s face and she went behind the bunks and, turning her back on him, took off the blouse. With one hand she reached under her pillow for her nightdress. Expecting her father to do something at any moment she quickly exchanged one garment for the other before sitting on the pillow.

  ‘Well, miss?’ he said, ducking his head under the top bunk and thrusting his face close to hers. She drew back hurriedly and pulled her nightgown down over her underwear. He slapped her face. ‘I said, where is it?’

  She said nothing, waiting for the next blow. He thumped her on the upper arm, and she would have fallen off the bed if she had not clutched the post that held the bunks together. The patter of bare feet sounded on the floor.

  ‘Adam, what d’you think you’re doing?’ His wife heaved on his arm. ‘Can’t we talk about this sensibly?’

  ‘Let go, woman!’ He tried to shrug her off but she hung on grimly and their struggles took them further from Rebekah’s bed. She watched them until they broke apart and began to argue in fierce whispers. She could not make out what they were saying, but hated to see them arguing and slid beneath the bedcovers, pulling them over her head. Eventually, they both fell silent.