It Had To Be You

by June Francis

  Emma took that to mean that Mrs Gregory was all right. ‘Maggie has just been telling me that she’s convinced that her and Betty’s friend Irene’s stepbrother, Billy, fancies Dorothy. I’m interested because I’ve met him. He’s the one who took me to see the bedsit with Betty.’

  ‘What did you think of him?’ asked Jared.

  She gave a sleepy smile. ‘He’s got a lot of life in him.’

  Jared turned to his sister. ‘Where is our Dorothy?’

  ‘She told me that she was going to the Gianellis’. Dot likes Mrs Gianelli and besides Billy used to work in her garden during the war, so she knows him reasonably well. She’s younger than Mum and easy to talk to,’ replied Maggie, kicking off her slippers and curling her feet beneath her. ‘I’d love to go back there again,’ she said dreamily. ‘Their musical evenings were fun. D’you think, Jared, that you could ask Mum about it for me? She’ll listen to you. I thought if our Betty does come tomorrow, we could go along there together.’

  ‘OK! I’ll see what I can do,’ he said, seeing no harm in his sister and cousin enjoying a musical evening.

  Emma stifled another yawn.

  ‘Are you tired?’ he asked, his expression softening.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said hastily. ‘It’s been a long day, and didn’t you say that you wanted to have a bath?’

  ‘I did.’ He got up and held down a hand to her. She took it and he pulled her to her feet. ‘Seeing as Ma hasn’t come down yet, I’ll take you up and she can show you where you’re sleeping.’ He picked up her overnight bag.

  Emma followed him upstairs, too tired to be curious about the house that was so much larger than her cottage. Elsie suddenly appeared in a doorway. ‘You ready for your bed, Emma?’ she asked.

  Emma nodded. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m feeling really sleepy.’

  ‘Nothing wrong with that, love,’ said Elsie.

  She opened a bedroom door and switched on the light. ‘I hope you’ll be comfortable.’

  ‘I’m sure I will,’ said Emma, gazing about her. She noticed the pretty floral bedcover on the single bed and the Michaelmas daises in a vase on the chest of drawers. The curtains matched the bedspread.

  ‘Our Dorothy made the curtains and bedspread,’ said Elsie. ‘She’s quite talented that way.’

  ‘They’re very pretty,’ said Emma, watching Jared place her overnight bag on a chair.

  ‘I’m glad you like them,’ said Elsie, looking relieved. ‘I put a hot-water bottle in your bed earlier. I think a bit of warmth helps you to sleep when you’re in a strange bed.’ She hesitated before saying, ‘Your dad was a good man, you know. It’s a pity you didn’t see more of him when you were a child.’

  ‘I’d like to have done, but at least you’ve told Jared some of what you remember about him, and I appreciate that,’ said Emma sincerely.

  ‘I hope you have a good sleep,’ said Elsie. ‘Come on, Jared,’ she added, ‘let Emma get to her bed.’

  Jared winked at Emma, wished her goodnight, and left her alone.

  At least they were under the same roof, thought Emma, wishing she could have said a proper goodnight to him. She remembered that she needed to clean her teeth and go to the lavatory. She opened the door again and saw Jared standing on the landing, leaning against the wall.

  Before she could speak, he said, ‘I’ll show you.’

  ‘Fancy you guessing,’ she whispered.

  He led her along the landing and opened a door. Then he lowered his head and kissed her. ‘I hope you sleep well.’

  She reached up and put her arms around his neck and returned his kiss. ‘Thank you. I hope you sleep well, too.’ She went inside the bathroom and closed the door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  ‘Look, see that bombed hollow,’ said Jared, pointing to the stretch of derelict land, opposite the Linacre Methodist Mission, as they passed it on the bus. ‘Bryant & May match works used to be there. It received a direct hit during the war. Fortunately for men like Mr Ashcroft there’s another match works the other side of Liverpool,’ he said seriously.

  ‘You’ve reminded me about Lila,’ said Emma.

  ‘I wonder where they’ll live in Liverpool? Maybe he’ll get one of the houses that was built in the Thirties,’ said Jared.

  Emma had no idea. ‘I’m more interested in when they’ll get married and where. You might get invited, and if you do, will you come?’ she asked.

  ‘If you want me there,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘Maybe our Maggie will get invited as well, seeing as she’s friendly with his brothers.’

  Emma sighed. ‘Irene might be invited, too, because I believe her mother knows the family.’

  ‘This is going to be a big wedding,’ said Jared dryly. ‘Could be that the Gianellis will be there, too. Our Dot was in late last night. It seems she had a good night round there.’ He fell silent.

  ‘Go on,’ urged Emma. ‘Did you remember to ask your mother what Maggie asked you to?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘And?’

  Jared smiled. ‘I persuaded Ma to think about going and visiting Mrs Gianelli. I told her that she had no right to judge her, when she hadn’t even met the woman.’

  ‘And what did she say?’

  ‘That she’d think about it, but if our Dot was going round there, then she’d allow Maggie to go as long as she kept her eye on her.’

  Emma was pleased. ‘Good. I know Betty loved going there. I hope she’ll want to visit your mum this evening.’

  ‘So do I, but let’s not worry about that now,’ said Jared. ‘We won’t get many days out like this together once I start work.’ He squeezed her hand, raised it to his lips and kissed it.

  Emma sighed with sheer pleasure, enjoying the warm secure feeling that his attention gave her. ‘I hope Betty’s in,’ she said.

  ‘If she’s out, then we’ll just have to go to the art gallery without her,’ said Jared firmly. ‘After all, she can go any time she likes with living in the city.’

  As luck would have it, they didn’t get an answer at Betty’s bedsit and were told by one of the other tenants that they’d just missed her by half an hour. At any other time Emma might have suggested visiting the registry office, seeing as how they were in Gambier Terrace, but she knew that would take time up that they did not have, if they were to fit in everything they wanted to do that day. She had on her best frock but sensible shoes, having her dancing shoes in a bag.

  So they made their way down past the Anglican cathedral, along the Georgian terraced houses in Rodney Street and into Leece Street, with Jared telling her some of the history of Liverpool, especially of its seafaring past and the part the School of Tropical Medicine had played in researching tropical diseases. Emma found it all very interesting and when she spotted a ruined church, tugged on Jared’s arm. ‘Is that St Luke’s?’

  Jared nodded. ‘Beautiful stonework.’

  ‘I believe it was left standing in memory of those killed in the war,’ said Emma.

  He nodded. ‘It’s a blinking shame so many fine buildings were destroyed in the bombing. I know the loss of lives was worse, but even so …’ He shrugged. ‘Anyway, let’s get a move-on if we want to get to the Hippodrome this afternoon. We might be tempted to spend more time in the art gallery than we planned.’

  Emma had a huge lump in her throat as she stood, staring at the setting sun reflecting off the waves. She liked the way the sunlight caught the bow of a white liner, loved the fussy little tugs towing the vessel. There were other ships, whose function she had no idea about. Jared had pointed out a dredger and the pilot’s boat. He told Emma how, hundreds of years ago, Chester was the more important port, but then the Dee had silted up and Liverpool had taken over that prime position. Even so, the port had problems with sand silting up the Mersey, hence the need for dredgers and the pilot boat to guide the big ships safely through the channels between the sandbanks in the river.

  Emma’s eyes scanned the painted blue sky with streaks of apricot-tinged
clouds above the Liverpool skyline before the war. She wished that she could take the painting home and hang it on her wall, but she felt so proud when she read her father’s signature in the corner of the painting, and thought it only fitting that it should be here on show in the city that he had obviously cared about.

  ‘Don’t you just love it?’ said Betty’s voice behind her.

  Emma whirled round and smiled. ‘How did you know I’d be here?’

  Betty slipped her arm through Emma’s. ‘I didn’t. I come here every day and look at it. Unfortunately I can’t stay long, I just thought I’d nip in here and see it again.’ Her eyes shone as she gazed at the painting. ‘Doesn’t it make you feel proud that our dad did this? I could look at it for ever and ever.’

  ‘Me, too,’ said Emma. ‘Jared stayed for a few minutes, then he went off to have a look at some of the other paintings. I think he sensed that I might want to be alone for a while.’

  ‘I’m glad you like each other,’ said Betty, squeezing her arm.

  ‘I really do like him. We called in at your place but you were out. I’m staying at your aunt’s for the weekend and she said that you could come and stay if you wanted.’ Emma smiled. ‘I’m going to the pictures with Jared this afternoon and dancing this evening, so you’d have to make your own way,’ she added.

  Indecision flitted across Betty’s face but eventually she said, ‘I’m glad she’s invited you there, but I couldn’t go this weekend. Not only do I not feel ready to return there yet, but I’ve got a shift at the café and then, this evening, Irene is coming into town and I’m taking her along to meet some of the friends I’ve made. They’ve got a little music group going and we’re going along to support them.’

  ‘Sounds fun,’ said Emma, thinking that, by allowing her half-sister some independence, Emma could lose Betty when she hadn’t long found her. ‘I’ll tell Jared and explain to his mother.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Betty, looking relieved. ‘I’ll have to go. I hope to see you soon, and don’t forget to write.’

  ‘Of course I won’t,’ said Emma.

  Betty hurried away. For a few more moments, Emma continued to gaze at her father’s painting, then she went in search of Jared.

  When they arrived at the Royal Hippodrome, Emma saw that it was a very different building from the Majestic where she and Betty had watched An American in Paris. When she commented on this, Jared said, ‘Different periods. The Royal Hippodrome is typical of the Victorian era when the music hall was so popular. The Majestic was built at the end of the Twenties and is art deco.’

  Once they were inside, an usherette led them to a couple of seats near the back. They settled down to watch the supporting black and white feature. Emma found her mind drifting, trying to imagine the mother she only remembered as pale, sickly and bedridden, coughing up blood and complaining in a thin, reedy voice, up on the stage, singing her heart out.

  Not easy.

  It really wasn’t until Doris Day appeared on the screen, singing ‘Secret Love’, that Emma was able to transpose her mother’s image onto the blonde-haired film star.

  ‘You OK?’ asked Jared in a low voice.

  ‘Yes, just thinking,’ she replied.

  He reached out for her hand and she shifted a little closer to him. She could have sworn that he kissed her hair. She felt caught up in a romantic dream as the love stories on the screen culminated in a double wedding.

  When they left the cinema, Jared put an arm around her and danced her over to the bus stop, bringing her to a laughing, swinging halt. They weren’t the only cinema-goers to come out singing and dancing. She was reminded of that evening she and her granddad had seen Fred Astaire and Jane Powell. She thought how much he would have liked Jared and she wished they could have met.

  ‘Good film,’ said Jared, smiling down at Emma. ‘Helps you to forget the horrors of war, and the atom bomb, for a while.’

  Emma’s brown eyes glowed. ‘I love a good musical. So what are we going to do next? Surely it’s a bit early to go to the dance hall?’

  He smiled down at her. ‘I thought we’d go for a Chinese. I bet you didn’t know that there’s a Chinatown in Liverpool. I know a restaurant that serves pretty decent food in Nelson Street, and after that we’ll catch the bus back along here and go either to the Grafton, which has a dance floor that bounces, or the slightly snazzier Locarno, almost next door to it.’

  ‘Two dance floors so close together. How did that happen?’ asked Emma.

  Jared smiled, ‘You could say it resulted from the Yanks coming over here during the war and being mad about dance, especially the jitterbug. There was only the Grafton on West Derby Road then, and it was strictly ballroom; jitterbugging and jiving were looked upon with horror by the older generation, just as the Charleston was in the Twenties.’

  ‘So tell me about the Locarno,’ said Emma.

  ‘The Locarno started out as a theatre, the Olympia, but didn’t do as well as the Hippodrome and eventually became a cinema. I think it became a depot during the war.’ His brow was creased in thought. ‘What I do know for certain is that it was bought by Mecca and turned into a ballroom. Before I did my national service, I tried out both places and discovered the Locarno generally caters for a younger clientele. I don’t know what it’s like now, but we can give either a try.’ His eyes twinkled, ‘But bear in mind, when you’re a teenager, over twenty-one is old.’

  She laughed. ‘You’re telling me that we’re regarded as old by someone of Betty and Maggie’s age?’

  He nodded. ‘I reckon we’d best wait and see what the length of the queues are like and pretend we’re younger if we end up in the Locarno. Now for the Chinese restaurant,’ he added.

  Emma could not have been more delighted that he was making such an effort to make her visit to Liverpool such a treat. She was fascinated by the decor in the restaurant, with its paper lanterns and small statues of Buddha. She had never had a Chinese meal before and asked Jared to choose for her.

  ‘You’ll like this,’ he said, when the food came. ‘It’s not spicy, although you might find it a little hot, but that’s the ginger in it.’

  She raised an eyebrow and stared at him across the table. ‘Ground ginger?’

  ‘No, the real root. It’s good for you to try different foods, Emma,’ he drawled, with a faint smile.

  ‘I suppose you got used to oriental food in Korea,’ she said, ruefully.

  He shrugged. ‘You have to be careful if you eat native food. You can end up with a real nasty bellyache.’

  ‘Is that what happened to you?’

  ‘Yes, and I was ill for days, but it didn’t put me off curry.’

  ‘I can’t see me serving up curry at my place,’ said Emma seriously.

  Jared smiled. ‘No. You stick to what you’re good at. Eat up and then we’ll have coffee, a drink at the pub opposite the Grafton, then head for the dance floor.’

  Emma had never been in a pub, but did not like saying so. As it happened, she need not have worried, because by the time they reached West Derby Road, the pub opposite the dance halls and the one on a street corner a short distance from the Grafton were filling up with men. Jared made the decision that perhaps it was best if they had a drink once inside the dance hall, although the drinks would be dearer there.

  Having already noticed that there were queues forming outside both places, that came as a relief to Emma. As it turned out, they ended up in the Locarno. She had never jived in her life and was a little worried about it, yet she was impatient to be held in Jared’s arms and to be twirled around the dance floor in whatever fashion.

  They did not immediately get up and dance but had a drink, sitting at a table a few feet away from the dance floor. She was surprised and glad to see that there was a proper big band playing. No jazz or jive, but a quickstep. She could manage that, she thought, and was pleased when Jared stood up, bowed to her and said, ‘Shall we dance?’

  Soon they were whirling around the dance floor and
she thought nothing could be more delightful. A swirling, shiny mirrored ball hung overhead and she was part of a bigger crowd on the largest dance floor she had ever stepped onto. She was glad that Jared did not talk while they danced, because she wanted to immerse herself in the music and the sensations roused by being in his arms. She lost track of how many times they danced, as they were seldom off the floor, but occasionally they sat out to get their breath back. Then she found it fun to sit back and watch other people enjoying themselves. She could not help noticing the young men that grouped together in various places around the dance floor and the girls that did the same. As she waited for Jared to bring her a drink, she saw the band leaving the stage and a smaller group taking their place.

  In no time at all the tempo of the music had changed: it was much faster. Even though some people were quickstepping, some of the youths had found themselves girls and were jiving to the music. A song that she had never heard before, called ‘Crazy Man, Crazy’, was being belted out by a young man on the stage.

  Jared placed her shandy on the table in front of her and said, ‘Do you want to dance?’

  ‘To this?’ asked Emma, startled.

  ‘Too tired?’ he asked, his eyes daring her to have a go.

  Emma rose to the challenge. ‘If you can do it, then I can do it!’

  She gulped down half her shandy and stood up. As soon as she was on the dance floor, she realised this was not Jared’s first experience of jiving. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing and twirled her this way and that. She stood on his toes a few times, apologised, and was told that she would soon get the hang of it. When he swung her between his legs and then up into the air, and then over his hip, the move left her gasping and laughing. By the time the music came to an end, she was leaning against him, with her head resting on his shoulder, and definitely needing to cool down.

  ‘Have you had enough?’ murmured Jared against her ear.

  She lifted her head and smiled up at him. ‘For now,’ she said in a breathless voice.

  He bent his head and kissed her, then taking her hand he led her off the dance floor. ‘That’s a Bill Haley & His Comets song,’ he said.