Flowers on the Mersey

by June Francis

  The day of the outing dawned bright and clear and Rebekah, wearing a lemon wash frock and a broad-brimmed white hat to keep off the sun, and with a jacket over her arm in case it was cool on the water, met Joshua down at the Pierhead. ‘You look stunning,’ he murmured, as he took her hand and led her up the gangway and on to a crowded upper deck.

  He ruffled several children’s hair and one lad said, ‘Is she your girl, sir?’

  He laughed and said, ‘Yes.’ He introduced Rebekah to several of the teachers, not mentioning that he was her guardian and giving the impression that they were sweethearts. She was not prepared for events to move so fast and when he pulled her down on a seat beside him and slipped his arm round her waist, she removed his hand.

  The Mersey glistened like a sheet of crinkled silver paper. Rebekah only half listened to Joshua. Her thoughts were of Daniel and the time they had spent on the Samson. She was betraying what was still in her heart by being with Joshua, and yet her father would have approved. Strangely, that mattered. It was as if by doing what he wished now she was making her peace with him. She thought of how he and Daniel had fought as the ship steamed across the water and only put it out of her mind when she left the ship.

  Eastham Woods rang with the children’s shouts and Rebekah smiled, finding pleasure in their enjoyment.

  ‘Miss, miss, come and see this!’

  ‘Miss, look at this bird’s egg. Can I keep it? Can I, can I?’

  ‘Miss, what’s this animal?’ A pair of huge dark eyes gazed up at Rebekah.

  ‘It’s a squirrel,’ answered Rebekah. It eats nuts and hides them away in winter when it goes to sleep.’

  It sleeps the whole winter!’ exclaimed the boy. ‘Bluddy hell, fancy that! I wouldn’t mind doing that meself.’

  Joshua gave him a clip over the ear. ‘You don’t use that language in front of ladies, boy! I’ll have a word with the matron and see you get your mouth washed out with soap.’

  ‘Sorry, miss,’ said the lad cheerfully, following them, ‘I forgot meself. But if I was one of them squirrels I wouldn’t have to worry about feeling the cold in winter.’ He frowned. ‘How does it survive if it sleeps for months? What does it do about them nuts?’

  ‘It wakes up now and again when it gets a little warmer and digs them up,’ informed Rebekah, aware of Joshua’s scowl.

  ‘Bluddy hell! That’s clever! How does it know where—’ The lad stopped abruptly as Joshua raised his hand, and fled.

  Rebekah laughed but Joshua shook his head. ‘You shouldn’t have encouraged him.’

  ‘He was trying to learn.’ She gazed up at the leafy green branches above them and breathed deeply of the woodland smells. Suddenly Joshua’s hands gripped her breasts and she gasped. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

  He looked at her but did not stop. She attempted to slap his hands away but he caught hold of her fingers and said huskily, ‘Isn’t it what you expected me to do?’ He forced her into his arms. ‘You girls like to play the temptress and then pretend you’re doing nothing of the sort! But I’m on to you, Rebekah. I’m willing to go along with whatever you wish. I want you, you see.’ His mouth came down over hers. She struggled but it was no use. He only let her go when she kicked him on the shins.

  He rubbed his leg but smiled up at her. ‘That was naughty but I forgive you.’

  Rebekah touched her throbbing lips, ‘I don’t care if you forgive me or not,’ she said. ‘You hurt me.’

  ‘Sorry.’ He pulled her hand away from her mouth and pressed his lips lightly against hers. ‘There. I’ve kissed it better. D’you want to kiss my leg?’ he said in a teasing tone.

  ‘Certainly not!’ She remembered how Daniel had kissed the insides of her thighs and suddenly shivered. Did she really given the impression of being a tease? If so it must be unconsciously because she was lonely for Daniel’s arms. She sighed. ‘Shouldn’t we be going back now? It must be time for the picnic.’

  He nodded. ‘I suppose so. Besides, there’s a couple of children watching us. Put your hand through my arm and smile.’

  Rebekah saw the sense in what he suggested and after that the afternoon passed off smoothly. It was only when they reached the Pierhead and he wanted to make an evening of it in town that there was a little unpleasantness. She stated that she was too tired to go gallivanting round the nightspots, and he sulked. She pretended to doze off in the cab and that seemed to convince him that she was definitely too tired to paint the town even a delicate shade of pink.

  As soon as he was out of sight, Rebekah stopped waving at the gate, pulled a comb through her hair and then ran up the road in the opposite direction. It was still light.

  ‘You’re late,’ said Brigid as soon as she opened the door. ‘Our Pat said yer weren’t coming.’

  Rebekah was surprised. ‘Why should he think that? I said I’d come.’

  Brigid shrugged. ‘Come in anyway. The men have gone to the pub. We’ve done the butties and everything. There’s some of the neighbours in, and me aunts and a few cousins.’

  ‘Come in, girl, and have yourself a shandy,’ called Ma Maisie, beckoning to her. ‘I’m on the tonic wine to build meself up.’

  ‘You should be drinking Guinness,’ said Rebekah, fishing a bottle from inside her jacket. She had bought it on the way. ‘Best that Ireland can produce.’

  ‘Now there’s a good girl!’ Ma Maisie’s lined face eased into a big smile. ‘Get me a glass and we’ll drink to the Emerald Island – that her troubles will soon be over and there’ll be peace between us.’

  ‘Amen to that,’ chorused several of the women.

  Kath handed Rebekah a cup of shandy while Brigid forced off the jink from the bottle of Guinness, They all drank to peace in Ireland and afterwards Rebekah told Brigid about the outing with the orphans, without mentioning Joshua. By the time she had finished, the men were filling up the room and one of the woman was coaxing a tune from a concertina. Rebekah caught a glimpse of Pat across the crowded room. He was swaying and there was an idiotic smile on his good-looking face. ‘I’ll Take You Home Again, Kat’leen,’ he bellowed off-key at the top of his voice.

  ‘Oh, shut up. Uncle Pat, that’s terrible,’ said Jimmy, appearing from beneath the table with his hands over his ears. ‘It’s enough to kill the cat.’

  ‘Are yer saying I can’t sing, lad?’ Pat squinted at him.

  Veronica bobbed up beside Jimmy. ‘Yeah. It was awful. Yer’d be better letting Becky sing. She sings real gud!’

  Pat scowled ferociously. ‘She’s not here! And she’s not one of us! Becky has a fancy man and thinks she’s too bloody good for the likes of me.’

  ‘Yer drunk,’ said Brigid in disgust. ‘Where’s the eyes in yer head? Becky’s here and she does sing better than you!’

  ‘I’m not singing,’ said Rebekah in a low voice to her friend, making up her mind to leave as soon as possible. She didn’t know why Pat had said what he had but her feelings were injured at that ‘She’s not one of us!’ Besides, she nurtured healthy suspicion of drunks and having Pat offer to see her home in this condition was the last thing she wanted. As well as that she was tired after her day in the fresh air. She picked up her empty glass from the table and took it into the back kitchen. She rinsed it in the sink and stood for a moment, thinking, and then went out through the back door and down the yard. Explanations could wait until next time she saw Brigid.

  Running up the back entry, she was glad that it was still only dusk. With a bit of luck she would be home before dark.

  It was as Rebekah came out into the road that she collided with Pat. ‘How did you get here so quickly?’ Her pulses were beating in her ears and she was in no mood for a tussle or an argument.

  ‘Why are yer leaving so soon?’ he demanded in a slurred voice, seizing her arm.

  ‘I didn’t want to stay.’

  ‘Because of me?’

  She sighed. ‘If the cap fits – I’m not one of you, remember?’

  Pat’s eyes darkene
d and his throat moved. ‘I saw you with him down at the Pierhead. I’m bloody surprised at you for spending today with him. I thought you’d come early to Ma’s do. He’s a bloodsucker, living off the backs of the poor. I thought that you and me—’

  ‘It was the orphans’ day out,’ she interrupted. ‘And there’s no you and me! I didn’t pretend anything different. You’re Catholic, remember, and your mam wouldn’t like there being anything serious.’

  Pat scowled and his fingers tightened on her arm. ‘Daniel O’Neill’s being Catholic didn’t stop you fancying him.’

  ‘Daniel was Daniel and you can never fill his place.’ Her voice was low and unsteady.

  ‘Can Mr Bloody Joshua Green fill it?’ He attempted to kiss her – a big slobbery kiss.

  With all her strength she pushed him off and backed away. ‘I don’t want to go out with you any more! You’re not my friend! And it’s nothing to do with your boss. You’ve spoilt everything. Goodbye, Pat.’ Turning she ran, tears rolling down her cheeks, and did not stop until she was nearly home.

  She let herself in with her key as Hannah came charging up the lobby. ‘Where hast thee been to this hour?’ she demanded.

  ‘It’s nothing to do with you,’ said Rebekah wearily, pushing past her and entering the sitting room.

  ‘Thou art later than I thought, Rebekah,’ said her aunt, struggling to her feet.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s that man, Miss Esther,’ put in Hannah. ‘He’s a bad influence. No meeting house last week and now this! He’s leading her astray! She’ll be getting a name for herself in the neighbourhood. And we know she drinks.’

  ‘That’s enough, Hannah,’ snapped Esther. ‘Shall we be a little more charitable? It was the orphans’ day out. And didn’t Paul, in the Bible, say that a little wine is good for the stomach.’

  ‘Always excuses for her,’ muttered the maid and went out of the room.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Esther, ‘I don’t know what to do about her, Becky.’

  ‘Ignore her, and me,’ said Rebekah. ‘I’m going to bed.’ She kissed her aunt and went upstairs. Enough was enough! Pat’s mention of Daniel had brought him alive that day for the second time and she wondered what she had been playing at, going out with either of the men. But what was she to do? Shut herself away from male company for ever and turn into another Hannah, frustrated and bad-tempered, because it was obvious her religion didn’t give her much joy? She thumped the pillows and that night cried herself to sleep.

  Early Monday morning she wrote a letter to Brigid, explaining why she had left the party, and posted it on the way to visit Kitty Dodd for the fourth time.

  ‘You’re back, are you?’ said Mrs Dodd. She was large, middle-aged, and had her hair in plaited coils about her ears. ‘You might as well come in now you’re here. Are you going to take them?’

  ‘I’ve explained, Mrs Dodd.’

  The older woman’s mouth tightened and she reached for her coat and handbag. ‘Well, I’ll be leaving you with them, then, and maybe you’ll change your mind and they won’t be here when I come back.’

  Rebekah stared at the four children. There were two sets of twins, three boys and one girl, all under seven, and their parents were dead. Their father had been Mrs Dodd’s son. He had been killed, playing football on deck after his ship had docked in Montreal. He had not looked where he was going and fallen down an open cargo hold. His mother wanted his children placed in the orphanage ‘You’re a stubborn woman, Mrs Dodd. They’re lovely children. How can you bear to be parted from them?’

  ‘I can’t cope,’ she said, not meeting Rebekah’s eyes but checking her handbag for her purse, ‘I’m over forty. I’m too old. Even with her help next door they’re too much of a handful, and it’ll get worse.’

  ‘I’ve told you we’ll help out.’

  ‘Financially, girl, but children’s needs can’t all be met with money. It’s time they need, and someone with plenty of energy.’ She pulled on black gloves, ‘I don’t mind keeping the girl.’

  ‘The boys are still too young,’ said Rebekah, the tension inside her easing. That was something at least. ‘What if I take them just for a while?’ she suggested. ‘It’ll give you time to get your work done or put your feet up.’

  Mrs Dodd stared at her and shook her head. A slight smile lightened her stern face. ‘You’re a right Miss do-gooder, aren’t you? Why aren’t you married with a baby of your own instead of bothering with other people’s?’

  ‘Perhaps I might have been,’ Rebekah’s voice was low, ‘but he went down with his ship last year.’

  There was silence except for the noise of the two older children whispering, then Mrs Dodd took off her coat and sat down. She waved Rebekah to the chair opposite hers the other side of the fireplace. ‘I lost my man years ago but I had my lad. When the war came I thought I’d lose him, but he came through.’ Her throat moved. ‘Then for him to be killed in a stupid accident – I just couldn’t accept it. It seemed unbelievable.’ She drew in a shaky breath and when she spoke again her voice was brisker. ‘Well, no use us crying, girl. You’re only young and have your life ahead of you. You’ll find someone else. Have children. That’ll help you over it. Now if you want to take them out, I’ll appreciate it, and maybe I’ll have a cup of tea for you when you come back.’

  Rebekah nodded, emotion making it too difficult for her to speak. She picked up the two younger children, Stanley and Lily, who were three years old. Their grandmother told their five-year-old brothers to stop messing about with chalks and put pullovers on them. Rebekah fastened the others in the large twin perambulator kept in the lobby, and with the elder boys holding on the pram handle, they walked the short distance up Farnworth Street in the direction of Kensington Gardens.

  ‘I felt like I won a battle this week,’ said Rebekah as she and Joshua came out of Crane Hall after a Chopin recital.

  He pulled her hand through his arm. ‘I see the police in London have captured a gang of Sinn Feiners. There were women involved too, carrying revolvers inside their blouses which they handed to the men to fire.’

  Rebekah’s stare fixed on his satisfied expression. ‘Why are you telling me?’ She attempted to suppress the annoyance in her voice because he had shown no interest in what she said. ‘Perhaps you think I’ve got a gun up the leg of my knickers?’

  ‘My sweet!’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Is there really any need for that kind of talk?’

  ‘I suppose not,’ she said stiffly. ‘But think why I don’t like you telling me things like that! I want to forget about anything to do with the struggle in Ireland. I know there were elections yesterday. That in Belfast the streets were festooned with red, white and blue, and that there was trouble. But I don’t want to know! Instead why can’t you tell me about the hundreds of unemployed who are rushing to sign ships’ articles and your taking them on so your ships can sail?’ Her tone was disparaging as she remembered Joe’s talk a short while ago. She presumed that he and Pat had gone back to their ship. She had not seen them since the night of the party and she had received no reply to her letter and was feeling hurt.

  ‘Rebekah, it’s in your interest that my ships sail.’ Joshua was frowning down at her. ‘And you should be glad that at least some of the unemployed are getting work.’

  ‘I am.’ She closed her eyes briefly. ‘But I bet you’ll be paying them less than you were the chief stewards.’

  ‘That’s business, I’m afraid.’ He sounded almost regretful. ‘I would have preferred to pay it to the chief stewards. They’re better at the job but proving stubborn. They’ve formed their own guild with some of the higher ratings of the catering staff.’ He kissed her lightly on the cheek and smiled into her eyes. ‘Let’s forget about all these troubles and talk about us.’

  ‘What about us?’ Her voice was wary.

  ‘You must know I’m mad about you.’

  ‘Do I?’

  ‘Of course you do.’

  She moistened her lips.
‘Say that I do?’

  ‘You can’t like living with that aunt of yours.’

  ‘She’s not so bad,’ she said promptly. ‘It’s Hannah who drives me mad. She’d love to get me out of the house.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘It’s like that, is it? Can’t you persuade your aunt to get rid of her?’

  ‘She’s been with her for a long time. Better the devil you know, I suppose.’

  He stared into the distance. ‘Does your aunt still resent my being your guardian?’

  ‘Yes.’ Rebekah glanced at him. ‘Understandable, don’t you think? She is my closest relative and you were a stranger to me.’

  He smiled and patted her hand. ‘But not now. I want to marry you, my sweet, but we don’t want to alienate your aunt.’

  Rebekah’s heart had already begun to race because she had sensed what was coming and wanted to shout, No, no! But all she could say was, ‘Marry you?’ because it was what her father had wanted and she still felt bad about him, but it was all happening too swiftly.

  ‘Yes, marry,’ he murmured, squeezing her arm against his side.

  She cleared her throat. ‘It isn’t a year since Mama and Papa died.’

  ‘I don’t want to wait.’ His tone was determined.

  ‘I’d need time to get Aunt Esther used to the idea,’ she said in a rush. ‘She’s not going to like it. She might cut me off just like Grandpapa cut Mama off.’

  He tapped a nail against his teeth. ‘That is a thought. Do you know if she’s made a will?’

  A small laugh escaped Rebekah. ‘It’s not something you bring up in everyday conversation! Am I supposed to say, “Dear Aunt, have you left everything to me?”’

  He frowned. ‘It would make sense for her to tell you, seeing as how you are her next of kin. Anyway, even if she hasn’t, everything should come to you, and by my reckoning she’s the type who doesn’t give business matters the due attention they deserve. I don’t think we really have anything to worry about.’

  Anger suddenly flared inside her. ‘I know that money is important but do you really have to speak about my aunt in such a way? I don’t want to think of her dying. Enough people I love have died already. I’m still mourning although I know I’m not dressed for it. I’d have to wait at least a full year before considering marrying!’