Child of the Mersey

by Annie Groves

The next few hours were agonising and interminable. The ward had fallen into darkness and Kitty thought that it was like waiting for your heart to stop beating. Danny had fallen into a fitful slumber beside her on the bench and she could see the grey fingers of dawn creeping over the horizon from the window beside her.

  But Kitty couldn’t sleep. Not until she knew that Tommy was safe. She cursed herself; this was all her own fault. She should have kept Tommy at home, she knew he had a weak chest and no one can really take care of you like your family can.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the ward sister, who was coming towards her, her face still unreadable.

  Dear God, she prayed, please don’t let her tell me that Tommy is dead. If you let Tommy live, I’ll do anything, I’ll pay you back somehow, I don’t know how exactly, but I will.

  ‘Miss Callaghan,’ said the Sister. ‘Please come through.’

  Kitty’s legs were shaking but she rose up from her seat. Danny was still asleep. Leave him, she thought. If it is bad news, I don’t want him to suffer it too.

  Kitty followed the ward sister into a little side room. Through the window separating them, she saw Tommy. He was surrounded by all sorts of machines and tubes. Kitty didn’t know what they were but she saw immediately that Tommy was conscious. Standing next to him, monitoring his pulse, was Dr Fitzgerald.

  ‘Oh, Tommy! Thank God!’ She hesitated. ‘Doctor, can I give him a hug?’ They were able to hear each other through the glass partition.

  ‘I’m afraid not, Kitty. Tommy is highly infectious and I’m taking a risk letting you this close.’

  Kitty could see that Tommy was still very swollen around his neck, but he looked much better than earlier and he gave her a small wave. With tears streaming down her cheeks, Kitty gave him a wave back and blew him a kiss.

  Kitty couldn’t believe her ears when Tommy croaked out some words. ‘They gave me sprouts, Kitty! Sprouts, I tell ya!’

  Kitty laughed through her tears and said, ‘I promise, Tommy, that you’ll never, ever have to eat sprouts again.’ Tommy smiled, then drifted off to sleep again; a normal sleep.

  ‘How can I ever thank you, Doctor? You’ve saved his life.’

  ‘Tommy has a strong heart, Kitty, and a huge appetite for life.’ He smiled at her kindly. ‘Now I think it is time for you to get some sleep.’

  ‘Yes, Doctor.’ And Kitty made her way back to the waiting room.

  She gave Danny a gentle nudge and he was wide awake immediately. His face lit up when he saw hers. ‘Come on, Danny, we can go home now.’ And arm in arm they walked back to Empire Street.

  It was almost Christmas when Kitty, Danny and Jack, who was home on compassionate leave, were allowed into the isolation ward of Bootle Infirmary, as long as they wore protective white cotton masks over their noses and mouths. Tommy had been too sick to be moved to the Hospital for Infectious Diseases, and had been watched day and night. They were lucky that the dedicated staff had the time to tend him so well. The invasion everybody was expecting had not yet occurred.

  ‘No, it isn’t because all of the patients have been moved elsewhere and we have more empty beds than we know what to do with,’ Maeve said as she bustled around Tommy’s bed, enjoying waiting on him hand and foot. Some nurses were so bored they had taken to knitting balaclavas for the navy in the Atlantic. Nobody was taking anything for granted, however, except Tommy, who was thoroughly enjoying his recuperation.

  ‘How are you feeling today, Tom?’ Kitty, Danny and Jack asked in unison. Jack had brought Tommy a replica of a Swordfish bi-plane such as he actually flew. ‘The lads in the workshop made it,’ Jack said proudly. ‘There isn’t another one like it.’ Tommy was thrilled to see it on his bedside table and was smiling now. They had been at Tommy’s bedside for about half an hour and had been told by the little Irish nurse that ‘her boy’ was not to be tired out.

  Jack and Danny laughed, winking at Tommy, who was now very red in the face.

  ‘It looks like you have your own private nurse there, Tom!’

  ‘Get away with you!’ Tommy said bashfully.

  ‘Erm, Kitty,’ said Nurse Kerrigan, ‘can I have a word?’

  ‘Is anything wrong?’ Kitty could feel the panic begin to rise and hoped Tommy was really doing well.

  ‘No, Matron wants a word,’ the nurse said. ‘Her office is down by the main doors.’ Kitty thanked her and told her brothers she would not be long.

  ‘Tommy is now well enough for discharge,’ Matron said kindly, and Kitty smiled. It would be good to have him home at last. ‘However,’ Matron continued, and her face looked quite formal as she sat on the other side of her desk, ‘there may have been some complications with Tommy’s heart caused by the diphtheria. We will have to keep a close eye on him. He’s in good hands with us.’

  ‘I’ll do likewise,’ Kitty promised. Although how she was going to manage looking after Tommy and working in the NAAFI was another matter.

  ‘There is one other thing I wanted to tell you.’

  ‘What is it, Matron?’ Kitty asked nervously. She hoped there was no more bad news.

  ‘When we became aware of the circumstances of Tommy’s arrival in hospital, we were rather shocked.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Kitty was even more nervous now.

  ‘We understood that Thomas was being billeted as an evacuee outside the city. Thomas clearly had a right to expect better treatment than he received from the Hoods, Miss Callaghan, and I can assure you that they will shortly be receiving a visit from the authorities. Her own children will now be in danger of infection too.’

  Kitty smiled. She didn’t have a vengeful bone in her body, but it would serve the Hoods right. Tommy had nearly died. Something should be done.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Christmas Day 1939

  Rita, after coming home from the hospital when her duties were over for the day, had told her mother that Tommy was making good progress, and was now out of isolation. Dolly made the sign of the Cross on her chest and whispered a few prayers to help him.

  ‘Kitty will have a tough time of it with Jack being away.’

  ‘Danny’s there to help, too.’ Rita sounded hurt on Danny’s behalf. They were sitting at the table peeling parsnips for their Christmas dinner.

  ‘Jack is the sensible one, though,’ Pop said mischievously. Rita felt every nerve in her body stiffen at the mention of Jack and although she and Jack had opened their hearts to each other, Rita knew that as a married woman it must never happen again. Most importantly, she thought guiltily, Charlie must never ever find out.

  If his outburst after Sonny Callaghan’s funeral was anything to go by, she could not even imagine how he would react if he thought Jack and she had a private friendship going on. Any respect she once had for Charlie was now dead, but she still had her principles and it wouldn’t do for there to be any hint of gossip. She couldn’t risk it for the children’s sake. No, they had said their piece, but now it was time to draw a line under it. Charlie had made some excuse this morning about having a serious head cold and not wanting to pass it on to everybody so he would not be at her mother’s for dinner.

  Rita wondered if he was ashamed at what he had done after the funeral and didn’t want to face her family. She hadn’t said a word to them, but she knew that Charlie might suspect otherwise. She was happy to let him think that others knew what a hateful man he was and hoped he was stewing in his shame, but she doubted it.

  ‘Was that a knock, Pop?’ Rita joined in peeling vegetables as her father got up from the table. He had been gone a few moments before returning and announcing proudly, ‘Better peel some more, Doll. Look who’s come to see us!’ Pop sounded elated as he opened the passage door wider.

  ‘Eddy!’ Dolly’s squeals of delight filled the room and had Nancy covering her ears. Dolly jumped up from the table when she saw her younger son. ‘Oh! My boy! My boy! Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home?’ The flurry of paper hats, which Sarah had made from old copies o
f the Echo, fell to the floor as she took Eddy in her arms and hugged him until he laughed.

  ‘We’ve just limped into Gladstone Dock, battered and bruised but not out yet!’

  ‘What do you mean, battered and bruised?’ Dolly asked, the colour draining from her face.

  ‘I’m only having you on, Mam.’ Eddy, always the joker, hugged her close while over her head he looked at Pop and slowly shook his head, a sign he didn’t want his mother to know the worst. Pop nodded. Tomorrow the news would be out that Eddy’s ship had taken more than a glancing blow from a U-boat, but for now he was going to enjoy Christmas with his family.

  ‘Oh, there’s just one thing … I’ve brought someone with me. He’s just gone into the pub for some cigarettes. He’s a bit shy, so please make him welcome.’

  ‘That goes without saying, son.’ A few moments after Nancy answered the knock at the front door, another sailor edged his way into the room and everybody welcomed him in, sat him down and talked at once.

  ‘I don’t know how far that chicken will go,’ Dolly worried. ‘The butcher said it was a young one but it looks like an old boiler to me.’

  ‘Don’t worry about me, Mam. I’ll get something at the hospital. I’m on duty later.’ Dolly gratefully patted Rita’s hand and promised her a bigger portion of Christmas pudding.

  ‘So, Nathan, what part of Canada do you come from?’ Dolly asked the Canadian sailor.

  ‘Ontario, ma’am,’ he said politely, and everybody nodded. The Feenys knew danger was faced every day by the Canadian merchant fleet, whose transport ships carried desperately needed equipment, fuel and food to Britain. They had a vital job to do and their ships were prime targets for the enemy.

  ‘Well, you are welcome here any time, Nathan. You can stay here with us. We will always make room for our friends from overseas.’

  ‘That’s good to know, ma’am. It gets a bit lonely at sea sometimes,’ Nathan smiled.

  ‘You call me Dolly, son; everybody else does.’

  Nathan nodded. ‘And you call me Nat … Dolly.’ That sorted, they all got to know each other very quickly and later Pop enjoyed swapping naval stories of the days when he was at sea. It was all very good-humoured and Nat even donned a Robin Hood-style newspaper hat.

  Eddy and Nat kept to themselves the news that wolf packs of German submarines were preying on merchant shipping. They caused heavy losses to the merchant fleet, which was why Nat was here on Merseyside instead of back home in Canada for Christmas. His ship had been torpedoed a couple of weeks ago and he had been rescued with some of his shipmates from the freezing Atlantic water.

  ‘My brother is in the Royal Canadian Air Force. He’s coming over here soon – he’s being posted to a place called RAF Acklington. Do you know it?’

  ‘Oh, that’s where Jack Callaghan is!’ Nancy squealed and, after a warning glance from her father, she realised what she had said. There were posters all over the place telling people that loose lips sink ships! Nancy’s eyes widened in mortification. There were warnings about people called ‘fifth columnists’ who seemed like friends but spied for the enemy. Who was to say what a fifth columnist looked like? Nancy accepted the warning look from Pop. Nat could be anybody.

  ‘Well, any friend of Eddy’s is a friend of ours,’ Dolly said, trusting her son’s judgement completely, although, catching Pop’s look, she thought it did not do any harm to remind Nancy that she needed to keep some information to herself. ‘Your brother’s most welcome to come here too, when he’s got time off!’

  ‘That’s good to know, ma’am. I’ll tell him.’ Nat’s ready smile brightened up the day a treat. Eddy informed him that this might be a small street but it had a big heart.

  ‘Oh, doesn’t he talk lovely?’ Nancy said, turning her attention to Nat. ‘Do you know anybody famous? Is Canada anywhere near Hollywood?’ Pop rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Even at five months pregnant, Nancy was incorrigible.

  ‘Listen … the King is going to give his Christmas message,’ Pop said, getting up from the table and turning up the wireless.

  They listened to the King’s message to the nation and Dolly looked around at her family and thought of the ones who were not here: Frank, somewhere in the Atlantic, no doubt; and Sid in France. She wondered if they would all be together next year. The family circle might be smaller now, but her heart was full with love for all of them.

  The food was not as plentiful as it had been the previous year and Dolly worried that they hadn’t got enough. She could think of nothing worse than being stingy with food. To feed her family was her greatest pleasure. She also knew if she queued long enough she could usually find something tasty to give them.

  Dolly said a little prayer of thanks that she had hung on a bit longer at the butcher’s on Saturday. Somebody had told her the chickens were all gone and there were only sausages left. Most women scurried off to see if they could find another butcher selling something that might be vaguely festive. However, Dolly knew that as long as they were all together it did not matter what they ate. So, after being catapulted to the front of the queue, she discovered the butcher had one last chicken. It was a bit of an old boiler, she realised, but she had done the best she could with it …

  The National Anthem broke into her thoughts and everybody stopped talking. They all listened intently as King George VI, in his hesitant manner, gave his first speech of the war.

  ‘… I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year, “Give me a light, that I may tread safely into the unknown.” And he replied, “Go out into the darkness, and put your hand into the Hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way …”’

  ‘Wasn’t that lovely?’ Rita sighed rapturously and repeated, ‘“Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown” – that lifts you up, doesn’t it?’

  A few moments later there was an air raid alert, quickly followed by the all clear.

  ‘The air raid precautions are still having a few teething problems,’ said Pop, who had donned his tin hat, which had big white letters ‘ARP’ on the front. He took off the tin hat and they all resumed their place at the table.

  ‘This is why they call it “the Phoney War”, Pop,’ Nancy said, not thinking.

  ‘There’s nothing phoney about it where we come from.’ Eddy looked serious, all jovial banter gone now. ‘The phrase is anathema to those of us in the Royal and Merchant Navies who see at first hand ships being blown up.’

  ‘Sorry, Ed,’ Nancy offered, and Dolly shook her head.

  ‘Athenia was blown up a few hours after the declaration of war – a warning if ever I heard one,’ Eddy said. ‘Then HMS Courageous was torpedoed … The aircraft carrier lost over five hundred men, but do you know what our biggest worry is – the pocket battleships, so powerfully equipped they are a daily threat to the British fleet.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Eddy, I didn’t think,’ Nancy said. ‘I open my mouth and something stupid pops out.’

  ‘I’m not having a go at you, Nance,’ Eddy said, giving her a hug. ‘Just don’t believe everything you read in the papers …’

  ‘I don’t think Nancy meant to upset you, son,’ Pop said calmly, knowing Eddy was hiding a lot of torment.

  Dolly realised a bit of levity was called for otherwise the whole afternoon would descend into maudlin melancholy. ‘This queuing lark will only get worse if the Germans don’t stop playing silly buggers,’ she said with a comic sigh and a wink.

  ‘Have a word when you get back, Eddy,’ Pop laughed, silently agreeing with his lovely wife that the talk was taking a serious turn. It did not worry him how much war talk there was around the table, but he could see his Dolly was becoming agitated, and that meant she was worried … and on Christmas Day. Not a good sign.

  ‘I’ll go and see the skipper, Pop … Tell him my mother does not like queues.’

  ‘I had to queue in three shops last week before I got a loaf,’ Dolly said, bringing in the Christmas pudding with great ceremon
y.

  ‘Hang on a minute, Mam.’ Eddy jumped up from the table and, going to his kitbag lying behind the parlour door, he cried jubilantly, ‘Wait till you see what I’ve got.’ He pulled out a bottle of brandy and held it up like the FA Cup while everybody cheered.

  ‘You’ll not be pouring that over the Christmas pudding!’ Pop was horrified.

  ‘Just a little bit, for the sake of tradition?’ Dolly said, taking the brandy from her son and cracking it open, but Pop had other ideas.

  ‘Well, give it here,’ he said, taking a sniff and blissfully closing his eyes. ‘I’ll do the honours.’ He poured just enough brandy to give off a weak flame when it was lighted. ‘We don’t want the fire brigade out … And, more importantly, we don’t know when we’ll get our hands on any more.’ Everybody laughed and waited with spoons at the ready while Dolly gave them all a piece of the Christmas pudding she made last summer … It seemed so long ago now.

  ‘You’re doing a fine job, lads,’ Pop said. ‘And we are grateful, although some people haven’t got a clue that our food comes from overseas and don’t care as long as they get it.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Eddy. ‘We’ll see the difference when we can’t get food any more.’

  ‘It won’t come to that, surely?’ Nancy did not listen to the news if she could help it.

  ‘A woman in the queue said they don’t eat bacon in their house,’ Dolly offered, ‘but she said she’s going to buy it any time she can now, because it’s getting scarce. I ask you!’

  Pop poured them each a brandy to toast ‘the King, the Navy and the Family’. ‘Here you are, love. You sit down with this. The lads and me will do the dishes.’

  Dolly could not believe her ears. Then she heard Sarah, who had been helping out at the hospital, coming in through the back door on a flurry of freezing air. Sarah had finished school now and was keen to go into nursing, like her sister Rita. They had too many nurses at the hospital at present but Sarah was keen to show willing and had joined the St John Ambulance and was often called on to volunteer when staff were short.