Child of the Mersey

by Annie Groves

  ‘I think he’s got his eye on our Kitty,’ Tommy said impishly. ‘He said he saw her when he was at the NAAFI dance last week.’

  Well, he is in a better position than I am, thought Frank. What would Kitty want with a chap who had only one leg? They took it off to save his life and he could only dream about dancing with Kitty now. Kitty was young and full of life, with her whole future ahead of her. Now he was useless and he would only drag her down and hold her back. It was time to put all thoughts of Kitty away. Anyway, he felt sure that she only wanted to see him because she felt sorry for him, just like everyone else would.

  ‘I’d make sure Kitty was mine, if I were you, before the Canadian makes a move,’ said Tommy. ‘I think Kitty might be pleased if she thought you really liked her.’

  ‘Stop talking daft, Tommy,’ said Frank. ‘You don’t know anything about it.’ His voice sounded harsher than he’d wanted it to. But he wished Tommy would shut the hell up.

  At that moment, Nurse Kerrigan popped her freckled face around his door.

  ‘You’ve got a visitor, Frank,’ she said cheerfully.

  ‘I don’t want to see anyone, I told you before,’ he said gruffly.

  ‘Nonsense! It’s time you stopped wallowing in misery and this visitor is bound to cheer you up – you’re a lucky chap!’

  Frank didn’t have time to protest before the nurse had gone and come back almost instantly with the one visitor that he couldn’t face seeing. This was the person he had really been trying to keep away. Kitty Callaghan.

  ‘Hello, Frank,’ Kitty said shyly as she came into the room. Frank didn’t think he had ever seen her look more beautiful. Kitty had finished her shift early at the NAAFI canteen and had rushed over to the hospital. Her cheeks were flushed and stray bits of her dark wavy hair had fallen out of their pins, giving her a windswept look. Frank thought she was so radiant that he could barely look at her.

  ‘Hello, Kitty.’ Frank was rarely lost for words, but he was now.

  ‘I’ve waited ever so long to see you, Frank. How are you?’ she asked, her face full of concern. Her eyes took in Frank’s pinched features. He looked well, but there was a tightness behind his eyes that she didn’t remember ever seeing there before. Without being able to help herself, Kitty felt her eyes being drawn down the bed, to the space where Frank’s lower leg should be, but where it was no longer. Frank followed her gaze as it settled on his stump. He shifted uncomfortably.

  ‘Oh, you know, Kitty. I’m getting by.’

  ‘The doctors say that Frank could be out quite soon, don’t they, Frank?’ said Tommy, chattering excitedly. ‘I heard them say you could have a wheelchair. That’d be brilliant – could I push ya?’

  Kitty saw Frank flinch at the mention of a wheelchair. ‘Tommy,’ she said quickly. ‘Go and fetch me a glass of water, there’s a good lad. I’m parched.’

  Tommy dashed off and left the two of them alone together. The silence was heavy between them. Kitty couldn’t make sense of it. There had never been any awkwardness between them before and Frank had always been the one to make everyone laugh. Having his leg amputated must have affected him worse than anyone thought. Kitty couldn’t bear the thought that Frank was unhappy in her company.

  ‘Frank, I—’

  ‘Look, Kitty.’ Frank interrupted before she had a chance to speak. ‘I’ve got something to tell everyone and I want you to be the first to know. The doctors have offered me a special place to recuperate, far away from here. Down south, in fact. It’s a special hospital; one where they help people … men like me.’

  ‘But what about your family, Frank? What about …’ Kitty was going to say, what about us? But what was she thinking? To Frank, she was just the girl next door, no more to him than one of his sisters. She’d been fooling herself to think that there was anything between them, she could see that now. Of course, he must go and get himself better the way he felt best. It was a stupid idea to think that he had any feelings for her that might keep him here. It was just her silly over-active imagination, as usual.

  ‘It’s for the best, Kitty. You’ll see.’ Yes, he thought. It’s for the best that you don’t end up saddled with a useless cripple for the rest of your life.’

  ‘Good luck, Frank.’ Kitty was heartbroken, but determined not to show it. Her love for Frank was a silly girlish dream; castles in the air. It was time she grew up, there was a war on and the time for childish fancies was over.

  ‘I’m a bit tired, Kitty,’ said Frank. He was desperate for her to go now. This was the hardest thing he had ever had to do in his life; to send away the girl that he loved like no other. But he had to do it – for her sake. It would be selfish to do otherwise.

  ‘I’m sorry Frank. I’ll leave you now.’ She stood to go, buttoning up her coat which she hadn’t even had time to remove. But something in the room held her there. She looked at Frank and their eyes met, but just as quickly she looked away, not able fully to comprehend what she had seen in those blue eyes.

  ‘I’ll write,’ she said firmly. ‘You can’t stop me.’ And as Kitty left the room, she banished from her mind as daft any idea that what she had seen in Frank’s eyes were tears.

  Rita didn’t normally smoke. She thought it was unladylike and hated the way the smell clung to her clothes and hair. But every now and then she indulged herself and this afternoon she had begged one of Maeve’s Chesterfields. She had finished her shift and was giving herself ten minutes before she had to head home. The thought of Charlie and Ma Kennedy waiting for her at home in the gloomy back room of Ma Kennedy’s shop literally filled her with dread.

  There seemed to be no good news. The Channel Islands had been invaded by the Germans – British territory – and the Welsh city of Cardiff had suffered terrible raids by the Luftwaffe. It seemed that the war was getting ever closer to Empire Street. All of these thoughts were rattling around her brain when she saw Kitty Callaghan come scurrying down the steps of the infirmary. She waved over at Kitty, who headed her way, but Rita was concerned to see that Kitty, her friend and someone who she considered as good as family, was flushed and seemed to be on the verge of tears.

  ‘Whatever’s the matter?’

  Kitty told her about what had just transpired between her and Frank. Rita drew thoughtfully on the cigarette. ‘Fancy a puff?’ she offered Kitty the Chesterfield, but Kitty shook her head.

  ‘No thanks, they don’t agree with me, Rita.’

  Rita had heard from the doctor that the hospital in Hampshire was a possibility. But this was the first she had heard that Frank had definitely wanted to go. She suspected that Kitty’s visit had something to do with his decision.

  ‘You’re sweet on him, aren’t you, Kit?’ Rita asked gently.

  Kitty was too shy to answer, but she nodded her head a little.

  Rita put her arm around Kitty’s shoulder. ‘If there’s one thing I’ve learned about men, Kitty, it’s that they’re a different species – even my own brother!’

  The two women exchanged looks and then both laughed.

  ‘Frank is proud and he’s had a rough ride. Give him time. It’s a great healer. Some wounds aren’t just skin deep you know, Kitty, and they can take a lot longer to heal.’

  Kitty nodded. Thinking of her mam and dad and of Tommy’s close shave, she thought she understood what Rita meant.

  ‘I don’t think I’ll ever understand men, though, Rita.’

  ‘I don’t think we’re meant to,’ answered her friend. ‘I think we’re just supposed to endure them!’ She was only half joking and Rita didn’t expect Kitty to sympathise, she was still only a young lass. There were barely a few years between them but Rita felt old before her time.

  ‘I overheard someone at the hospital saying that there had been some terrifying raids over the south coast.’

  ‘Yes, me too,’ said Rita. ‘They’re calling it the Battle of Britain. Lots of our nurses and doctors have been transferred south to where they are needed.’

  ‘What’s
going to happen, Rita?’

  ‘I don’t know, Kit. But while we’ve got brave men like Jack and Eddy and Sid and Frank doing their duty, we’ll give Hitler a run for his money yet.’

  Stubbing her cigarette out, Rita came to a decision. ‘Enough of this gloomy talk, Kitty! Nancy said Gloria’s singing at the Adelphi again tonight and Mam’s offered to babysit George. Sod Charlie, sod Ma Kennedy and sod bloody Hitler – shall we get our gladrags on and join them?’

  Kitty’s smile was all the encouragement she needed and the two women linked arms and headed to Empire Street, singing ‘Wish Me Luck’ as they went on their way.

  Q&A with Sheila Riley

  You grew up on Merseyside. Does it mean a lot to you to bring Annie Groves back there with this new series?

  Merseyside was such an important place during WWII. I feel that people should know just what an important role it played in helping to win the war and also highlight the lives of the women who supported their men right the way through.

  The Docks were the keystone of national survival. Merseyside became one of the most dangerous places on earth and was known only as a ‘North-West Port’ in reports. I can only gasp in admiration for the brave people of this country that went through this awful time and pray that this country never sees the likes again. There are so many hidden depths that I want to tap into and I consider it a privilege to be able to write about them.

  Is there a real Empire Street?

  There is an Empire Road in Bootle but this is not the one I am writing about. However, I think there is an Empire Street in Liverpool and I’m not writing about that one either!

  My Empire Street is purely fictional even though the courage and the determination of my characters are based on fact. All over the country during WWII there were streets like Empire Street. It’s more about a way of life and the characters that inhabit that street.

  How do you think women like Dolly and Rita got through the war?

  Whatever life threw at them, they got on with it – they had to, there was no alternative. Families were close through necessity – they all pulled together! If their house was blown up they moved in with their relatives or neighbours – doors were always open. Ninety per cent of Bootle’s housing was seriously damaged or lost completely during the Blitz. The stoic women who were left behind while the men were away had to get through it as best as they could – there was no use moaning, everyone was in the same boat.

  Are there any real life experiences or anecdotes from your family that have informed the story of Child of the Mersey?

  My Nan drove engines on the railways and worked in cold storage near the docks. I have a photo of her near an engine – she’s wearing trousers! It’s the only time I ever saw her in trousers. My parents were evacuated. However, the idea for Tommy’s story came from my friend who told me that her father, after evacuation, was rushed back home with a serious illness that left him deaf – not through neglect I hasten to add. Tommy is a wonderful character, but he is not a carbon copy of one person, more an amalgamation of many and we will hear a lot more of his escapades as the series progresses.

  Did you always dream of becoming a writer?

  I was a daydreamer, always gazing out of windows and wondering what if …? People like me did not become writers; we became hairdressers (which I did for thirty years), clerks, nurses, teachers, workers in factories and call centres … Writers were another species – until a teacher told my mum that I should write. I still don’t know why, I’d wanted to be a hairdresser! However, over the years I heard many stories from my clients that planted the seeds of ideas in my head – what if …? I wrote as a hobby for years and then, hey!

  Great advice, Mrs Madden! If you have a dream, then follow it, you never know where it will take you.

  What’s the hardest part of the writing process?

  Editing! It slows me down when I just want to get on with the next bit of the book. I don’t have difficulty with plotlines or research, I love that part, but I want the book written yesterday. Thankfully I have a wonderful team of editors who deserve daily deliveries of beautiful bouquets, they are so clever and patient and fantastic! Also, I find breathing quite difficult – don’t laugh, it’s true! When I write an exciting bit I forget to breathe – I can tell by the end of the scene if it’s going to be a good one because I’m gasping!

  Which authors do you love to read?

  That’s like asking me which chocolate is my favourite in the box – I love all of them in their own way! My taste has changed over time and I have an eclectic taste in books these days. I do not stick to one particular author or genre. It depends on my mood. I do read a lot more biographies than I used to, though.

  Have you got a ‘desert island’ book?

  Being greedy here. Can I have two please? My all time favourite is To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. I love its warmth and humour, despite dealing with the serious issues – everybody should have a dad like Atticus Finch.

  The next one is Small Island by Andrea Levy. I love the characters, the timeline, the voice of each character is so distinctive. I wallow in a warm pool of contentment while reading it and never want it to end.

  What’s next for the people of Empire Street?

  Christmas on the Mersey is the next in the Empire Street series and will be out in autumn 2014.

  Christmas on the Mersey by Annie Groves

  The Phoney War is over and Hitler’s bombs are raining down on the city of Liverpool.

  Rita Kennedy is forced to face some unpalatable truths about her husband, Charlie. But she must still play the part of dutiful wife, while her childhood sweetheart, Jack Callaghan, has shown her nothing but kindness. Can they keep a check on their emotions or will their friendship develop into something more?

  For Kitty Callaghan, burying herself in her work distracts from the constant worry about her brothers. Tommy is back from his evacuee posting after falling ill, but now he faces danger in another guise. And what about Danny, always ducking and diving and up to no good? And then there’s Frank Feeny, the man she adores. Will they ever be together?

  With a Christmas of rationing and ‘going without’ to look forward to, the women of Empire Street are being tested like never before. But their troubles are only just beginning …

  Happy reading and love to you all,

  Sheila writing as Annie Groves xx

  Read on for an exclusive extract from the next book that will follow the lives of the residents of Liverpool’s Empire Street. Christmas on the Mersey will be published in autumn 2014.

  Click here to pre-order now

  CHAPTER ONE

  October 1940

  ‘The patients, who can’t be moved far, will have to go under the beds!’ Sister Kennedy said quickly as she hurried down the long ward, efficiently clearing it of patients who were able to move to the basement. The Germans were dropping their bombs ever closer each day and now they were right on top of the docks.

  ‘Johnny the porter said an enemy plane has been shot down over Gladstone Dock and the pilot has landed in the Mersey.’ The probationer nurse sounded excited. ‘They say he’s still alive and they’ve sent a crew to seize him!’

  ‘Do you think they’ll bring him here?’ another nurse asked as she helped an elderly man from his bed. Twenty-six year old Rita Kennedy, newly promoted to Ward Sister, let the conversation run for only a short while, knowing Hitler’s men were now attacking the country’s industrial cities and ports after failing in their attempts to invade Britain over the skies of the South East.

  Their plan to starve the nation into submission by destroying the fleet in the Atlantic caused Rita to say a quick, silent prayer for her brother Eddy, sailing with the Atlantic convoys. He told her, when he was last home, that the wild, impetuous Atlantic could be a terrifying place for the most experienced sailor, and that was without torpedoes being fired at them to prevent them bringing back vital food and supplies.

  ‘No time for chatting.’ Rita, im
patient now, worried that the young nurses were not moving fast enough. The hospital, close to the docks, was a prime target. Everybody around here knew that to put the docks out of operation would be seen as a major coup for Germany and the axis forces. ‘And no speculation please, you know what they say about loose lips!’ She knew this would be the first place to bring an injured aviator – even if he were an enemy bomber pilot.

  ‘Yes, Sister.’ The two young nurses chorused and resumed their duties. Rita half-listened to the drone of enemy aircraft as she calmly and quickly made her patients safe, and her thoughts automatically turned to her children. Her stomach turned. Please Lord, make them safe, she silently prayed. Don’t let anything happen to my babies! They would hopefully be safely down in the cellar of the corner shop where Charlie’s mother had put in a few chairs and a table. Rita knew she would not let any harm come to Michael and Megan but it was not the same as actually being with them herself. She took in a long stream of quivering air to try to calm her racing heart; she would never forgive herself if anything should happen to them. The thought made Rita’s skin clammy. It would be her fault if anything happened to her children. She was the one who had persuaded Charlie to let her bring the children home when there were no signs of air raids or invasion, something the newspapers called ‘the Phoney War’. Charlie had said it was not safe to bring them back from the shelter of the countryside. After her constant begging, Charlie had reluctantly agreed. However, now she wished she had not pleaded quite so successfully. She was certain she had done the wrong thing – dockside Empire Street was one of the most dangerous places in the world now.

  Please Lord, Rita prayed again in silence as she moved the patients, please keep my children safe! In her guilt-ridden mind’s eye, Rita could still see the proud look on Charlie’s face eight years ago when he held his son for the first time and she still experienced the almost crippling remorse that she felt. Now was not the time for thinking such things she realised, as another crash of anti-aircraft guns stalled further considerations.