She picked up a pair of glasses, flicked them open and placed them on her ears as if the arms were made of glass, then drew in a sniff and held her breath. I held mine too and glanced at George who was at the front of his queue and had no idea something important was happening. The lady held my dad’s photo between two fingers and thumbs. Her mouth pushed forwards as if she wanted to kiss him and this made lots of little lines appear on her top lip. Then she sucked both lips right in and at the same time her forehead came down over her eyes.
‘That’s why I didn’t recognise the name,’ she said, leaning forwards. She went on a whisper. ‘He said he was Lawrence Oliver, Lenny for short, and that he worked in John Brown’s and wanted to go to sea. I told him he should go back to John Brown’s and he sang me a sea shanty and had everyone joining in.’
‘Did he?’ I said.
‘Yes, he did,’ she whispered and laid her specs on the table and the photo with them. ‘It went “There was a laddie come from England, it was hey ho and away we go” or something like that, ’cause he’s got that lovely northern accent, Northern English that is. Not everybody was happy about singing in here, but that man over there at the Merchant Navy table, the one with the moustache, he joined in.’
‘Did he?’ I said. I could hardly breathe for excitement. ‘The other man didn’t,’ she said. ‘But the lady in blue did and that one in the fawn Aran knit, and the three up the back in ladies recruitment added some harmony. Then he put it to the vote, once he had the whole room going, and everyone agreed he should be allowed to be a merchant seaman.’
‘Oh no!’ I whispered, and put my fingers to my mouth.
‘The other Navy man was against it,’ she said, ‘the one in the hat, which he never takes off because he’s an officer. Funny, that’d be rude if there wasn’t a war. But there was nothing he could do. You can’t not allow someone into the Merchant Navy just because he’s charming all the lassies.’
Now my hands were over my whole face. I pulled the fingers down so I could see.
‘But before he came back with his papers we found out the truth,’ she whispered. She glanced around the room. I followed where she looked. George was leaning over a table with a pen in his hand. Concentration made him chew his lip as he wrote something on a piece of paper.
The lady poked my hand. ‘It so happened that the lady in the Aran knit over there is the daughter of a bigwig police chief or something and your dad was already known for his choir-leading on the boat across from... but I can’t tell you that.’
‘H... Helensburgh,’ I breathed, my powers of speech failing in the excitement. ‘W... with the I... Italians. I already told you.’
She sucked in her lips again. ‘I hope you’re not a spy,’ she whispered. ‘We had one in here the other day.’
I shook my head. ‘Really? A real sssspy?’
‘Wait here,’ she whispered. She picked up her glasses and the photo, which she held low at her side so no-one would see, and went across to the lady in the Aran knit. The Aran knit lady listened to her and shot a look in my direction, then whispered something back. George, on the other side of the room, was still bent over his sheet of paper but pulled back to scratch his head. I willed him to turn but instead he leant his elbow on the counter again and went on writing, or trying to. I’ve seen his writing: it’s not very good.
Suddenly the door lady was back at her own table. She looked at me and shook her head. ‘I’m so sorry but I’ve no idea where your dad might be,’ she said. She glanced at the Aran lady and they smiled at each other. Then she lowered her voice and said, ‘Go up Drumfrochar Road and keep going. Follow it up to the left until you come to the merino wool mills then after that follow it to the right and keep going up the hill. Southwards. Keep going south. Paper mills. Go to the paper mill.’ Then loudly: ‘Try the town hall or the travel office at Princes Pier.’ Quiet: ‘Follow the road, really, you can’t miss it. Keep going south, always south.’ Loud: ‘Good luck!’ Tiny whisper: ‘Glentee Farm, almost at the reservoir.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, trying to look as upset as I didn’t feel. Then I whispered, ‘How far?’
‘Far,’ she said, ‘and all uphill,’ and she smiled as if she’d told me he was just round the corner.
‘Thank you,’ I said without containing my grin.
‘Go now,’ she said. ‘You’ve a walk.’
‘You can stop nodding now,’ said Ella who suddenly appeared at my shoulder. ‘Aren’t you finished yet? What’s George up to?’
The lady at the table squeezed my hand. ‘Hope you find him.’
George was having an argument with the Merchant Navy man with the hat. As he stood up, the better to shout, his chair fell over backwards and two people at the next table rushed away. George’s wee eyes went wee-er than ever. He pulled himself to full height and opened his mouth to speak. I couldn’t look. I couldn’t bear it. But he surprised me.
‘Sorry,’ he said.
‘Pardon me?’ said the man in the hat. ‘I can’t hear you.’
There was another long pause. George drew in his lips.
‘Sorry, sir,’ he said. ‘Sorry. Sir.’
He sat back down.
The man in the hat leant back in his chair. I couldn’t hear them any more but I guessed he was telling George he couldn’t join up. George’s mouth hung open and his eyes narrowed while the hat man shook his head and drummed the table with his fingers.
‘Uh-oh,’ said Ella in my ear. ‘Trouble.’
‘Poor George,’ I said.
Then he reached into his pocket and laid a packet of cigarettes on the table alongside a cigarette that was already there. The man in the moustache pushed it back towards him and then the two navy men seemed to argue. Was he bribing them?
‘You can’t smoke on ships,’ whispered Ella.
‘How would you know?’ I said.
‘Lad down at the docks told me,’ she said.
Then George stood up to leave, the cigarettes still on the table. His face was stony as he came towards us. But they called him back and soon George and the hat man were laughing and the other man seemed to be writing something on a piece of paper. He pointed to a clock on the wall above a poster which said THE LIFE LINE IS FIRM THANKS TO THE MERCHANT NAVY and had two merchant seamen gazing out to sea. The clock said five to one.
George stood up and shook their hands. He was grinning all over his face. I never saw him so happy. Come to think of it I couldn’t remember seeing him happy at all, ever. So he had joined. So I was pleased for him. And I had found my dad, nearly. So why were the tears threatening to burst out of my eyes?
Chapter 30
George was understandably surprised by my tears, but no more so than me. He said it was because I was a girl, but I already knew girls were braver than boys, so I didn’t listen to him. He paced up and down outside the employment place rubbing his hands while I stared out between the buildings where I could see the sea. The ships were all facing west in readiness, like Mr Tulloch’s cows sometimes did in the field, all turned one way, waiting. The clamour of the shipyards and the docks rose up, crashes and booms as if whole ships were falling over. A coal cart came clattering up the hill, the horse straining, its neck thrusting up and down with the effort. The rain had stopped again but the wind was freezing.
‘You’ll have to tell your mum for me,’ said George. ‘You ought to go straight home to your mummy anyway if you’re going to cry like a baby,’ said Ella. ‘Shouldn’t she, George?’
‘Why don’t you just tell her yourself?’ I said, ignoring Ella. I batted the tears off in a way I hoped looked as if I didn’t care about anything. ‘And what about your own mum and dad, anyway? What about them? You’ll have to tell them.’
‘I’ve to go straight down for a medical at the shipping office,’ said George, ignoring me. He was smiling like he’d won first prize.
‘That’s nice,’ I said. ‘I’ve to go over the hill to the back of beyond.’ I jerked my thumb up the road.
<
br /> But Ella and I seemed to have become invisible.
‘Then I’ve to get a letter from my dad or mum,’ he said.
‘Why?’ said Ella.
‘He’s still a child, stupid,’ I said. ‘They need to give their permission. And how are you going to do that anyway? You know they won’t let you, don’t you?’
‘I don’t need it,’ he said, waving an envelope at me. Then he read the letter that was inside. ‘ “To the Merchant Navy. I hereby give permission for my son George Connor to join you and go to sea. Yours sincerely Mr and Mrs Connor.” I did that myself. No help from anyone.’ His grin would split him in two if he wasn’t careful. ‘You could at least be pleased for me.’
‘Yeah, you could at least be pleased for him,’ said Ella. ‘He did save your life after all.’
‘I need some kit too,’ said George in a faraway voice. ‘Boots and waterproofs. A warm coat. What else?’
‘He didn’t save my life, did you, George?’ I said. ‘George?’ He was checking a handful of coins in his palm and didn’t hear. ‘I wish you’d go home, Ella. This is none of your business, any of this. You should be at school or something or helping your granny peel tatties.’
Ella looked at the sky then laughed right into my face. I closed my eyes and stood as still as I could bear to, shutting out the sound of her fake laughter until she thumped me on the shoulder and I had to look. She crossed her eyes, except only one of them actually crossed, and waggled her head at me.
‘I don’t have enough,’ said George. ‘What am I going to do? Oh no! There’s only enough for a jumper. Not even that.’
But Ella and I were too busy staring each other out, me deadpan, her acting the goat. It wasn’t hard and I would have won if I hadn’t felt this great rush of happiness come up from my feet.
‘George,’ I said, grabbing his arm.
‘I won!’ squealed Ella.
‘I found my dad!’ I said.
‘You’re kidding!’ he said. ‘How did you do that?’
‘He’s over that hill,’ I said. ‘On a farm, I think, or a paper mill. What time is it? We’ll have to go quick so we can get still get home to Clydebank. At least the rain’s stopped.’
‘You and Ella go. I’ve got things to do. The Valpecula leaves tomorrow early. I wonder which one it is?’ He gazed out at the sea where the ships were glinting in a sudden burst of sunshine. ‘They’re going to take the last recruits out there tonight so I’ve got to get going. I don’t want to get left behind.’
‘The what? The Peculiar?’ said Ella, delighted.
‘Well, that fits,’ I said.
‘The Vulpecula,’ he said. ‘The man says it’s after a star.’
‘A star?’ said Ella with a twist of her nose. ‘Why did they call it after a star?’
‘Peculiar, isn’t it?’ I said.
‘Sssh!’ said George. ‘Loose lips sink ships,’ he hissed. ‘I shouldn’t have told you anything. Oh god. I’ve done it now.’ He checked up and down the street for spies. ‘We’d better move.’ He crossed the road and stood in a doorway. We followed him over and stood either side. ‘Vulpecula, Vulpecula, Vulpecula,’ he said, leaning on one vowel and then the next.
‘Tonight?’ I said. ‘That’s a bit quick, isn’t it?’
‘Vulpecula, I think,’ said George. ‘Has to be.’
George had no money for clothes, not even for second-hand stuff from the Sally Ann. The money in my pocket seemed to chink louder than before as if there was a whole king’s ransom in there instead of a few coppers. I was loath to give any of it up without finding my dad first. What if I had to stay longer? And I still had to eat. I totted up all the things I might need the money for and then I totted them all up again and realised I had no idea at all.
‘What are you both counting for?’ said Ella. She did a little dance, hopping on and off the step. ‘Let’s go back to the docks.’
‘I need some of your money, Lenny,’ said George. ‘I’ll pay you back from my first wages, honest. I’ll send it to you at Ella’s gran’s. Go on. Please? I’ll send you interest and everything, to pay for your trouble.’
‘Yeah, come on, Lenny. Hand over the readies,’ said Ella, on and off the step.
‘Shut up!’ said George and I together.
‘Alright,’ said Ella, backing off. ‘No need to be like that. I was only trying to help. Just joining in.’
‘Shut up!’ said George.
Ella stomped off down the hill a little way and watched us from another close mouth.
If George had threatened me the way he usually did by towering over me and twisting my arm or promising various forms of torture, I wouldn’t have given him anything, but he didn’t. He set about persuading me with promises of trophies from foreign countries, tea from China, gum from America, fur from Finland.
‘Russian dolls,’ he said. ‘I’ll bring a Russian doll all the way from Russia. I just need the money now, otherwise I can’t go.’
A sudden wind seemed to race through the close where we were standing, lifting my coat so it cracked against my knee. I thought of Mr Tait and how he wouldn’t want George to go, how he’d hate the fact that George had lied and hadn’t told his parents. How I’d have to be the one to do the telling. But aside from all that, Mr Tait had made George promise to look after me and now he was going. Didn’t that mean he was breaking a promise?
‘You’re supposed to be looking after us,’ I pointed out, one last time. ‘What about Mavis and Rosie and my mum?’
‘Only ’til you’ve found your dad,’ he said.
I’d thought it was forever. ‘But I haven’t actually found him,’ I said, ‘not completely.’
‘Lenny, don’t be silly. I can’t go to sea if you don’t give me the money.’
‘But I don’t have much and I don’t know what I’ll need.’
I pulled the coins out of my pocket. I didn’t want to. This was George. What was I thinking? He’d never bring me anything from foreign shores. He’d never send me the money. He’d forget I even existed.
He tried to see into my hand but I clutched it back from him. ‘It’s all I’ve got,’ I said. ‘I worked for it. I need it to get home. If I don’t find my dad today... . ’
So he told me how much I’d need for a train fare to get home and added on the price of tea and a roll and sausage at the station, and I turned the coins over in my hand. The hill I had to climb seemed long and steep and full of people I didn’t know and places I wouldn’t know how to find. What if I found another minister? Or the same one? What if he lived up the hill? I scanned all the people but they were just ordinary folk holding their coats tight against the wind, sailors and workmen and housewives, all hurrying about their business. An army truck passed up the hill with soldiers on the back. They didn’t notice George and me because they were waving at Ella who was blowing kisses their way. Then a blue truck rattled down towards the docks with cages full of hens, feathers floating in its wake and a breathstopping stink.
‘Please, Lenny,’ he said. ‘Mr Tait would want you to.’
If I had been a religious person, I couldn’t have been more shocked if you had said God was in league with the devil. I turned to stare at him.
‘He would not,’ I said. And I began to list all the reasons why Mr Tait would not want him to lie about his age and go to sea. Then I moved along the tenement wall for safety.
‘Ella!’ George shouted down the street. ‘Ella!’ then he turned to me. ‘Ella’s a stupid little idiot. So are you. Mr Tait told me to look out for you because he knew you’d go looking for your dad, and that it was only right that you should wonder. He told me to keep an eye on you until you found him because of how stupid you can be and the trouble you always get into. You’ve found him. Job done. I know we hate each other but do me this one favour and I’ll send you a postal order from my first wage packet. I’ll even send you interest. Ten percent. That’s not bad, is it?’ Then he shouted for Ella again but she only glared up at him and looked a
way with a flick of her hair. ‘You were his favourite,’ he said, standing over me. ‘You don’t need to worry about that. He always said butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth.’
I didn’t know what to say to that, but while I was thinking, there was the most almighty crash and roar from the dockside followed by a lot of shouting. We peered down the hill but there was nothing to be seen. All the hairs seem to stand up on my neck. The wind funnelled up the hill between the tenements and I stuck my hands in my armpits to keep warm. A lady in a pinny threw a bucket of dirty water into the gutter and I watched it hurry down towards the sea. The clang of the riveters rose upwards and George stood on the hill with his eyes shut and his hands clasped together against his mouth. It occurred to me he might be praying. Maybe Mr Tait had made him pray. Maybe George believed.
‘Please, Lenny,’ he said, as if he was praying to me. I took a deep breath. ‘Okay,’ I said.
‘Thank you!’
‘But there’s one thing.’
‘Anything. Anything at all.’ He was bouncing on his toes the way Rosie does.
I suddenly realised why George and I hated each other. We were too alike. Neither of us wanted, ever, to have to ask for help. It was ten times worse because next I had to ask him for his help. But I reckoned if he could do it, so could I.
‘Can you follow me? I mean can you follow me over the hill to the farm or the mill, the paper mill, or was it a woollen mill? You see I don’t even know. Once you’ve got your gear, I mean. It’s just that I don’t want the minister to find me,’ I said. This was true but actually, if I’m honest, I was just scared of what I might or might not find.
He looked at me sideways. ‘But I don’t know when I’ll be done,’ he said. ‘I don’t even know where to go. This is Greenock.’
‘Try,’ I said. ‘You could try. Mr Tait said... . ’
‘I know what Mr Tait said,’ he said. ‘But I’d never find you.’
I shrugged. Ella had sat down on the step of another close and was picking at the scabs on her face and staring off into nothing. She didn’t look much older than me any more, just another girl whose dad had gone.
Rue End Street Page 28
