by June Francis
‘What about your school friends, don’t they call in to see you?’ asked Norman. Simon nodded.
‘Not as much as they did at first and when they do come, they don’t talk much but read my comics. Dad takes me to the flickers some evenings and I enjoy that.’
‘At least you’re better now and can get out and about,’ said Norman.
‘Let us have our meal first and then we can play,’ Grace said. ‘Would you like some dinner, too?’
‘If you have enough,’ he said. ‘I’ve only had a jam butty and a drink of milk.’
‘Well, you’re in luck, because I’ve made a mince and onion pie,’ said Grace.
‘That sounds the gear,’ said Simon. ‘Dad said you’re a good pastry cook. We really enjoyed that apple pie.’
‘Thanks for the compliment,’ said Grace, with the slightest of curtseys.
She fetched an extra plate and cutlery, and then cut three slices out of the pie and added mashed carrots and fried potato scallops before pouring glasses of water and sitting at the table. She watched as her father and Simon dug into the food.
They had just finished eating when there came the sound of the knocker at the front door. Grace stood and went to see who was there. She had a feeling it might be Ben and was aware that her heart rate had increased. Her intuition was right. Simon’s father stood on the step, still wearing what appeared to be his working clothes, with sawdust clinging to his hair and his eyelashes.
‘I thought it was going to be you,’ Grace said, her grey eyes meeting his treacle-toffee brown ones. ‘He’s here. You’ll come in? I’m sure Dad will enjoy a chat with you.’ She stepped aside and held the door wide open.
‘Only your dad?’ he said.
‘Don’t be daft! You and Simon are always welcome.’
He raised his eyebrows interrogatively. ‘I thought you might have had enough of us.’
‘Why should you think that?’ she asked.
‘Well, you don’t owe us anything. It’s not as if we’re family or neighbours.’
‘I’d hope you would regard us as friends,’ she said.
‘I’d like to be friends with you if your boyfriend wouldn’t object.’
‘I don’t care if he does,’ she said with an edge to her voice.
Ben’s eyes narrowed. ‘Has he still not written to you?’
‘He’s written, but it’s more about what he doesn’t say that annoys me.’
Ben looked puzzled.
‘Dad can explain.’ She smiled and indicated that he step inside. ‘I guess you haven’t eaten.’
‘You guess right. Does that mean you’re offering to feed me?’ She nodded.
‘Seeing as I’ve heard how you complimented my pastry skills.’
Grace followed him up the lobby, admiring the broad spread of his shoulders beneath the light gabardine jacket. Norman nodded a welcome, and said, ‘I hope you’re not going to rush the lad away. He’s determined to beat me at tiddlywinks.’
Ben said, ‘I’ll watch. I’ve hardly stopped all day and I’ll be glad to relax for half an hour. Before you and I have a chat, Norman.’
The older man blinked at him and then nodded.
As Simon and Norman settled down to play, Grace drew out a chair for Ben at the table and bid him sit down before serving out the remainder of the pie. ‘Eat up,’ she said, moving away and putting the kettle on before stacking some of their dirty plates and cutlery out of Ben’s way. ‘So, you’re being kept busy on the new housing estate out Seaforth way, are you?’
‘It’s Litherland, which is the same stop on the Southport train, but we’re building houses on land that was farmland – for the workers of a tannery up that way overlooking the Leeds–Liverpool canal.’
‘I’ve never heard of Litherland,’ Grace said.
‘Well, it’s been around for quite a while. On this side of the canal there are quite a few older terraced houses and a Bryan & May match-works… and a number of shops and pubs. There’s talk of a library being built. There’s a Methodist church too, I think.’
‘I suppose the air is fresher out that way.’
He smiled. ‘Depends on which way the wind from the Mersey is blowing. Tanneries can be smelly places at times.’
Grace bit her lower lip. ‘’Course, I wasn’t thinking.’
‘There’s lots of villages around Liverpool, but they’re all growing now.’ Ben paused. ‘Anyway, that’s enough from me.’ Ben forked a potato scallop and fell silent.
Grace feeling flustered, turned away and carried some plates into the back kitchen. Ben gazed after her for several minutes, before glancing across at Norman, who suddenly appeared to be very engrossed in a tricky tiddlywink manoeuvre.
‘Have you told Grace you’re ill, Norman?’ he asked.
Norman nodded, watching Simon flip his counter into the container in the centre of the board.
‘Is that why she doesn’t want to talk about the boyfriend and suggested I talk to you about him and Australia? I wouldn’t blame you if you preferred her to stay in Liverpool.’
‘I don’t know yet how bad I am,’ said Norman. ‘I’ll know more after I’ve seen the specialist in a couple of days’ time.’
‘I see,’ Ben said. ‘You’ll keep me informed, won’t you?’
‘Oh yes!’ said Norman grimly. ‘I could do with your help. I’d rather not have Grace have to depend on my sister-in-law, Dougie’s mother. I’ll tell you more before you and Simon leave.’
Ben asked no more questions, only finished eating, before carrying his plate and cutlery into the back kitchen.
Grace glanced at him over her shoulder as he came towards her. He smiled and dropped the plate and cutlery into the washing-up bowl. ‘Thanks for the dinner. I really enjoyed it.’
She found herself thinking, Well, you know what they say? The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Then she wondered why that thought should come into her head and quickly pushed it away.
Ben picked up a tea towel and began to dry the dishes.
‘You don’t have to,’ she said. ‘You’ve been working all day and need a rest.’
‘I thought it would give us the chance to talk privately,’ he said. Grace stilled, her hands motionless in the washing-up water, but her heart was beating fast.
‘What about?’ she asked, with a tremor in her voice.
‘Your dad! I take it that you won’t have asked him about his illness.’
‘You know!’ She stared at Ben, her eyes wide with surprise and apprehension.
‘He told me a while ago. He needed a friend and wanted to spare you for as long as possible. I told him you’d want to know and to support him. Anyway, he’ll know more after he’s seen the specialist.’
Her shoulders sagged. ‘Do you think he’ll be honest with me?’
‘Yeah, for better, for worse. He doesn’t want you going to Australia, does he?’
She shook her head and gripped the sink. ‘He thinks there’s something not quite right about Dougie and the job he had with the friends he made on the ship. They left Cape Town where the ship docked and went to Johannesburg to make their fortune and he wants to buy a house in Australia. My aunt and uncle knew about his scheme in South Africa before I did.’
‘Whatever it was, it must have been well paid if he can afford to buy a house in Australia.’
Grace nodded. ‘Dad and I have just been hazarding guesses.’
Ben said seriously, ‘Well, whatever it was, I think you’re making the right decision staying here with your dad being taken unwell.’
‘I wonder what my aunt Polly will say when I tell her.’
‘Are you close?’
‘We used to be. She’s my mam’s sister.’ Grace shook herself and finished washing the dishes. ‘She’s inclined to be bossy and I don’t want her barging in and telling me what I should or shouldn’t do. I want to continue looking after Dad whatever…’ Tears shone in her eyes.
Ben dried the last of the cutlery. ‘He asked
me would I help him if need be.’
‘He did?’
‘I said I would… and you’ve both been so good with Simon.’
‘That was for selfish reasons – we love spending time with him,’ said Grace. Ben placed a hand on her shoulder.
‘He’s very fond of both of you, too. You should have heard him talk about the two of you this last month gone, while his wrists and knee healed. Now, I think I will go and sit down.’ He suddenly seemed to notice the pile of newspapers in a cardboard box by the door and picked one up. ‘All right if I take this?’
‘Of course, but don’t be surprised if it’s an old Echo. I save them for lighting the fire.’
‘It’s ages since I’ve bought a paper,’ he said, leaving her wiping the draining board as he left the room.
When Grace entered the kitchen, it was to find that her father and Simon had set up to play another game of tiddlywinks and Ben was sitting back in an easy chair reading the newspaper he had picked up. He glanced up at her and said, ‘You’re right about this, it’s from August! Apparently, back then, the film star, Maureen O’Sullivan, arrived in Liverpool with her fiancé, John Villiers Farrow – he’s a film director at MGM.’
Grace wondered if Ben was telling her this to lighten the mood.
‘She has to have some Irish blood with a name like O’Sullivan,’ said Norman.
‘I wonder if the wedding is soon,’ Grace said. ‘Maybe they’ve just landed on the Irish ferry and are going to America on a liner for the wedding.’
Ben glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘I think it’s time we were on our way, son,’ he said.
‘Ahhh! We haven’t finished this game, Dad!’ said Simon.
‘You can finish it when you come again,’ Ben suggested.
‘Give it a couple of days, eh,’ said Norman. ‘I’ll be working, so I’m not sure exactly what time I’ll land home.’
* * *
The following day Grace called in on Milly to see how the twins were coming on and whether there was anything she could do for her as the weather was turning colder. As she arrived, Milly was just leaving the house again with the twins.
‘Grace! I’m glad to see you. I’ve been meaning to ask if you and your dad would like to come to the twins’ christenings,’ Milly said.
Grace said, ‘I’d love to and I’m sure Dad will as well. Where are you having the service?’
‘St Margaret’s. Jane and Kyle have offered their parlour for the do afterwards because their house is much bigger than ours. There’s quite a crowd coming – Jimmy’s aunt and her husband from Essex, and then there’s the Irish lot, and my relatives on Dad’s side.’
‘When is it?’ Grace asked.
‘Not for a while, next year, due to us wanting to make sure all the people we wanted there had plenty of warning. We also wanted nice weather, so it’s Easter Sunday, 21st April.’
Grace thought what a good job she wasn’t going to Australia as she would have missed the christening because her twenty-first birthday was exactly a month earlier, on 21st March, the start of spring.
‘Listen, instead of taking the twins out in this weather, can I get whatever you need?’
‘I’d appreciate that,’ said Milly. ‘You could help me get the pram inside, though.’
‘Have you thought of using the back way? I know the alley can be a bit smelly what with cats and rubbish dropped by the bin men, but it will be easier getting out of the house,’ said Grace.
Milly screwed up her face. ‘Now, why haven’t I thought of that?’ she paused. ‘We might as well go now. By the way, I just want some stamps from the post office and some invitations posted.’
‘That’s no trouble,’ said Grace.
The two women walked to the nearest opening that led into the next street where Ben and Simon lived, and halfway along it they turned into a narrower alley that ran alongside the back of the houses, and went along it a short way before stopping at Milly’s back door. She lifted the latch and pushed the door open to wheel the pram in before turning and taking out several envelopes and her purse from her bag. Milly handed Grace the envelopes and two florins from her purse.
‘Thanks,’ Milly said. ‘And drop in for a cuppa on the way home.’
‘Thanks, I will,’ promised Grace.
Grace turned back the way she had come along the alley, and found herself idly wondering which back door might be Ben and Simon’s. She had no time to go and check it out now though, as she needed to get to the post office and shops straight away, but it did put her in mind of her conversation with Ben last evening about PO boxes – she wanted to visit her aunt as soon as possible and discover whether she had heard from Dougie again. She also felt duty-bound to inform her aunt that Norman was ill and that she might not be able to leave him and go to Australia as planned.
* * *
Grace was back at Milly’s house within half an hour and then enjoyed holding the twins one by one. ‘They already feel heavier,’ she said, cuddling the little boy.
‘I know,’ said Milly. ‘My mother-in-law will really notice the difference. Jimmy and I are going to take them over to New Brighton to see her. She sprained her ankle a couple of days ago, so we want to see whether she has all she needs with her having difficulty getting out.’
‘Dad has health problems, too,’ said Grace.
‘Nothing too serious I hope?’ Milly said.
‘Could be! He’s going to the Royal Infirmary to see a specialist,’ replied Grace, as her voice cracked.
Milly’s expression was sympathetic. ‘Let’s hope for the best – I’ll light a candle for him next time I go to church.’
Grace murmured a thanks before saying she’d best be going as she was planning on visiting her aunt. Milly saw her out and wished her all the best.
She went home and put away her shopping. She left a note for her father, saying where she had gone, in case he should arrive home while she was out. Then she left the house and caught a tram part of the way to her aunt’s house and walked the rest of the way. She was in luck, as Polly opened the door this time, and smiled down at Grace.
‘Hello, stranger! I was wondering when we’d see you again.’
‘It hasn’t been that long since I called. You were out, Uncle Douglas saw me home.’
‘To what do we owe the pleasure of a visit from you now? Have you heard from our Dougie?’
‘Yes… I’ve been wondering if you have, though.’
Polly smiled. ‘I’d have thought he’d have definitely got in touch with you the same time as he did us, given the circumstances.’
Grace stepped over the threshold. ‘What do you mean? Can we go and sit down, please? I’m tired.’
‘Sorry, of course! I don’t know what I’m thinking of, keeping you on the doorstep.’ Polly said absent-mindedly.
‘It appears to me you’ve a lot on your mind. Is it to do with Dougie? He hasn’t changed his plans again, has he?’ Grace asked anxiously.
Polly did not reply straight away, but waited until she had brewed a pot of tea and the pair of them were sitting in front of the fire. Then she put down her cup and said, ‘The latest news I’ve had from Dougie is that he’s changed his mind about staying in Australia and is on his way back to England on a merchant ship to London.’
Grace choked on a mouthful of tea as it went down the wrong way. When she was able to speak again, she said, ‘I didn’t know that – I can’t believe it after the way he went on and on for years about everything being finished in Liverpool and Australia being the only place to be!’
‘Well, I would have thought you’d be pleased he’s coming back to England. You never wanted to go to Australia. He’s just doing what you want,’ Polly said firmly.
‘Rubbish!’ said Grace, sipping her tea carefully this time. ‘Something has happened that he’s not telling us about.’
‘And what do you think that is about? Everyone always thinks the worst of our Dougie and he only ever tries his best,’ said P
olly defensively.
‘How should I know? But I don’t see how it can be anything to do with me. Not really, he was so set on going, regardless of what I felt about it.’
Her aunt looked at her coyly. ‘Our Marion has written to him a few times. She might have mentioned that bloke you were seen with after the play on Exchange Flags.’
‘So she did, and Dougie mentioned it in his letter to me. Talk about making a mountain out of a mole hill. She was always trying to cause trouble between us.’
‘She might have resented you and Dougie getting together. They were close even when they were little,’ said Polly. ‘She probably wrote to him as she thought he might like to come home for Beryl and Davy’s wedding.’
‘I doubt it. He was never struck on Davy and wasn’t exactly kind to Beryl growing up. You won’t remember how he removed the head of her doll and Marion smashed it with a hammer, then there was the time he put a spider down the back of Beryl’s frock and Marion called her a cry baby and threatened to take the top off her hot water bottle in her bed if she told Mum and Dad. I told her she was mean and managed to rescue the spider. I was threatened, too, by Marion, but I told her I’d tell my dad if she dared burn me with a match.’
Polly’s thin lips tightened. ‘I think we should change the subject. Children can be very cruel to each other, but they grow out of it.’
