Daughters of the Mersey

by Anne Baker

  ‘Amy love, there’s something we have to tell you.’

  Her daughter’s dancing blue eyes fastened on hers. ‘Something exciting?’

  ‘Something sad, very sad.’ She paused, there was no easy way to say it. ‘I’m afraid Pa has been killed.’

  She watched the light fade from Amy’s face. ‘Killed? You mean he’d dead? How?’

  Leonie went on to tell her and pulled out the bundle of newspaper cuttings she’d brought in her pocket. ‘He was very brave. A hero in fact, he saved one boy’s life and was trying to save another.’

  Amy couldn’t see to read, her eyes were full of tears. ‘But if Pa’s dead I’ll never see him again, will I?’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’ Leonie gave her a handkerchief and sat down on a wooden crate to pull her on to her knee in a hug. Milo read out the articles to her.

  ‘He didn’t say goodbye to me,’ Amy whimpered.

  ‘He wasn’t able to say goodbye to any of us,’ Leonie wasn’t far from tears herself.

  ‘He could have written to say goodbye,’ she sobbed. ‘He’s never ever written to me, not even once, though I’ve written to him.’

  ‘You know Pa,’ Milo said. ‘He often feels quite poorly.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’

  They went for a walk then although it was raining more heavily. Leonie held one of her hands and Milo the other. She took them across the field to see again what a commercially made henhouse looked like and then to fetch the cows up from the sideland ready for milking.

  When they got back, Jack was in the farmyard packing Hetty into a box for the journey. ‘I’ve decided Hetty ought to have another hen to keep her company,’ he said. ‘This Rhode Island Red has just begun to lay, she should do well for you.’

  ‘That’s Polly,’ Amy said. ‘Her feathers are the same colour as your hair, Milo.’

  Leonie was pleased Jack had managed to distract Amy’s thoughts but she was embarrassed at his generosity and wanted to pay for the hens and the eggs, but Jack refused to let her. They went indoors and Amy showed the newspaper cuttings to Bessie and she read them out to Jack.

  ‘Your father was a very brave man,’ Bessie told her. ‘Not many men would risk their lives like that. You must be proud of what he did.’

  ‘I am.’ Amy was biting her lips. ‘Can I come home with you and Milo, Mum? I’d be able to look after Hetty and Polly and—’

  ‘No love. You’d be frightened in the raids. You’re safer here in the country.’

  ‘Pat’s there.’

  ‘I bet she’s scared stiff,’ Milo said. ‘When I spoke to her sister Aileen the other day, she said they were all terrified and that her mother was thinking of taking the family away from Merseyside.’

  ‘It’s dangerous there at the moment,’ Jack added.

  ‘It’s just as dangerous for Mum and Milo,’ Amy retorted. She paused for a moment. ‘Mum, if you were killed in a raid, who would look after me?’

  ‘That won’t happen, love.’

  ‘But it might. If Pa can be killed, then so can you.’

  ‘Don’t forget about me and June,’ Milo put in quickly. ‘It’s lucky we’re so much older, we could look after you if there was nobody else.’

  Bessie threw her arms round her in a hug. ‘If the worst does happen, you could stay here with us, couldn’t you? Jack and I would bring you up, we’d be more than happy to do that.’

  Amy seemed comforted though Leonie noticed that Milo had to blow his nose hard and Bessie’s eyes were swimming.

  ‘I’m going to make you a cup of tea before you have to go,’ she said as she lowered the kettle into the flames.

  When the time came for them to leave, Amy clung to her mother. ‘Couldn’t I come home with you for a little while? I don’t want you and Milo to leave me.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be safe for you,’ Milo said.

  ‘No, love, I’m sorry.’ Leonie hugged her. ‘I hate leaving you like this, but it’s much the wisest and the safest thing for you.’

  ‘But I want to go to Pa’s funeral.’

  ‘Little girls don’t go to funerals,’ Jack said. ‘You wouldn’t like it.’

  ‘I want to say goodbye to Pa.’

  Leonie took a deep breath. ‘I want you to be brave and stay here. Auntie Bessie and Uncle Jack will look after you.’

  ‘Of course we will,’ Bessie assured her. ‘We’d be lost without you now.’

  Usually when they walked down to the road to meet the taxi, Amy came alone to see them off, but today Bessie came too. Amy was in floods of tears and Leonie’s last view of her daughter was of Bessie holding her tight and trying to comfort her. She hated leaving her when she was so upset.

  When they boarded the coach, Milo said, ‘Good job it isn’t full.’ He took one full seat and kept Hetty’s box beside him. Leonie sat across the aisle and tried to soothe the Rhode Island Red that had been tied into a sack and kept moving about. Both were very audible. Their fellow passengers were in no doubt they were bringing hens home.

  Leonie was in agony during the days that followed. She felt she couldn’t feel better until Steve was finally laid to rest. It helped when a few days later she received a note from Auntie Bessie saying Amy had settled down once they’d gone and hadn’t mentioned her father since.

  Milo had put Hetty to sit on the eggs and Polly had joined her in the henhouse. She was spending the night alone on the perch and each morning produced a brown egg. Leonie exchanged their egg ration coupons for hen food, and though it was a fine meal and very different to the hen food Amy had shown her, both hens seemed happy to eat it mixed up with boiled potato peelings and household scraps.

  Leonie knew Milo had arranged for his father to be brought to St Mark’s Church where his funeral would be held. There was no longer a florist in the neighbourhood so she picked the best of the May flowers from the garden and tied them into bouquets.

  The day of the funeral came at last. June had been given a half day of compassionate leave to come. She arrived after lunch looking white-faced and tired. The previous night had brought another heavy raid and she’d been roused from her bed at midnight to help. Neither she nor Leonie were able to control their tears. Leonie had expected the funeral to be very quiet, with only the family and a few of her friends, but because of the publicity about Steve’s bravery, it was very well attended. Many of his fellow ARP members came, together with neighbours she rarely saw these days.

  Elaine provided the funeral refreshments in her house but few went there. Leonie was relieved when it was all over.

  Milo felt he had to take responsibility for his mother now that he was the man of the house. He was also trying to keep to his rota of fire-watching. And, on top of this, he had to remember to look after the hens. He was relieved to find that Hetty was as keen to sit on the eggs as Bessie had said she’d be, while Polly scratched happily in their outside enclosure.

  He was mixing their food one evening when Alison Greenway came round. ‘Pat tells me Amy’s sent you some hens. I’d like to see them.’

  ‘You’ve come just at the right moment,’ he told her. ‘I’m about to feed them.’ He led the way and put their feed down in their pen. Polly rushed in from the outside enclosure and Hetty heaved herself off her clutch of eggs. Alison stood with him at the open door watching them. The evening sun was dappling her hair, she was really pretty. Milo couldn’t take his eyes from her.

  He screwed up his courage. ‘I’d like to ask you to come to the pictures with me,’ he said slowly, ‘but I’m shattered and might fall asleep. I need my spare time to catch up with my sleep, but it’s a lovely fine evening, how about a walk along the Esplanade towards Rock Ferry instead? I’ll still be able to have an early night after that.’ It pleased him to see her face light up at the suggestion, and they set off straight away.

  ‘I shall miss seeing the old Conway in the river,’ she told him. ‘The place won’t seem the same without her. It’s thought to be too dangerous to keep a training ship here with
all the young men on board.’

  There had been a training ship for officers of the merchant navy moored in the river since 1859. The present vessel had started life as HMS Nile and came into service in 1877, and was later renamed HMS Conway. ‘Dad says he’s heard she’s about to be towed to the Menai Straights for safety,’ Alison said.

  Milo sighed, remembering the days when he’d hoped to train on the Conway. ‘Once there were three old ships anchored here. Do you remember them?’

  She nodded. ‘I do. Everybody and everything is being evacuated. Dad is talking of finding somewhere safer for us as a family. The trouble is that everything in reach of work for him and school for my sisters has been snapped up long ago.’

  Alison was in her last term at school and the examinations for Higher School Certificate would be on her soon. ‘No point in evacuating me now.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Dad thinks I should try for a place at Liverpool University but with the war on . . .’ She shrugged. ‘Really I don’t know what I want to do. I feel Mum is edging me towards teaching. She was a teacher, but I don’t know . . . My older sister Charlotte is in the WRNS and likes it, so I think I’ll do the same.’

  Milo frowned. ‘You’ll be going away?’

  ‘Yes. I’m eighteen now so once I leave school I’ll be drafted into war work if I don’t choose it for myself.’ She looked up and smiled. ‘Everybody tells us that choosing a career is a very important decision, but not having any particular bent or ambition makes it very hard.’

  Milo understood exactly. ‘And it’s even worse if one’s parents start pushing. Pa wanted me to work in the family business and I tried it for a year before war broke out but I always felt I was a round nut in a square hole. It was conscription that got me out of that.’

  Alison sighed. ‘In my case it’s the war that’s pushing me. I don’t have time to think about it.’

  ‘I should have refused to do what Pa wanted but I didn’t have the guts to stand up to him.’ He looked down at her tawny brown hair curling on her shoulders and her neatly pretty face with wide-spaced smiling eyes. His heart gave a lurch as he realised he wanted to get to know Alison better. ‘Except that I hope you won’t decide to join the WRNS. All my friends go away and I’m left here by myself.’

  ‘You’ve fought for your country and done your share, so you’re ahead of me there.’

  ‘Do you want to fight for your country?’

  Her forehead creased in thought. ‘No, not particularly, but it’s something we all think we should do.’

  Milo remembered Henry Jenkins’ words: ‘Think again about what you really want,’ he’d advised. ‘Make up your own mind and don’t let anybody change it for you.’ Then, after a moment, smiling broadly Milo added, ‘What d’you think about coming to the pictures with me on Saturday?’

  She giggled. ‘That’s easy, the answer’s yes. Basil Rathbone is on at the Lyceum in The Hound of the Baskervilles. I’d love to see that.’

  ‘So would I. I like Sherlock Holmes. I’ll call round and collect you on Saturday.’

  They took their seats while the films to be shown in the coming weeks were being advertised. Gone with the Wind had pride of place though its showing was still some time off.

  ‘I’d really love to see that too.’ Alison sighed with longing. ‘I’ve read some reviews and they all raved about it.’

  ‘Then we mustn’t miss it when it comes,’ Milo said, taking her hand in his. ‘We’ll come together. Consider that a date.’

  Milo went home feeling pleased that he’d found a girl who was interested in him. Floris was all very well and quite good company but she made it clear she preferred another. Alison was more openly responsive to him and he liked that. Her touch could make the back of his neck tingle. He couldn’t get enough of her. Even so, he knew he wouldn’t feel settled in civilian life until he had a job. He was tired of thinking about his future, he wanted to get on with it now.

  The following night he called round to see Henry Jenkins. It was he who opened the front door and released a cloud of savoury scents. He was still chewing.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Milo said, ‘I’m disturbing your meal.’

  ‘No matter but if you’re thinking of taking Floris to the pictures, you’re out of luck,’ he told him. ‘Her boyfriend’s home on leave, he’s taken her out.’

  ‘It was you I wanted to see. Do you have time for a word with me, Mr Jenkins?’ Milo had formulated the words to ask. ‘I’ve taken your advice and thought hard about a career and I’d like to make some progress now.’

  ‘Of course, lad, come on in.’ He opened the door wider and led the way to the kitchen where the remains of his evening meal were on the table. ‘There’s a cup of tea in the pot and what about a slice of Floris’s cake?’ He gave Milo a mischievous smile. ‘She made it to show off her baking skills to Barry and pretty good it is. So what are your thoughts about a career? Have you made up your mind?’

  ‘I think I’d like to be a ship’s architect like you, but would a job in your drawing office lead to that? I’ve been reading up about it and it seems I’d need a background in ship’s engineering, wouldn’t I?’

  He nodded. ‘I started as an apprentice engineer but I was sixteen and you’re a bit beyond that now. It won’t have done you any harm to knock about doing other work.’

  ‘I’m twenty-four, is that too old to start?’

  ‘That depends on you. You would need a job in our engineering division and you’d have to keep your wits about you and consider yourself a trainee, but I reckon you’d pick it up. You’d be facing several years of hard study at night school to sit the qualifying exams of the Royal Institute of Naval Architects.’

  ‘How long would it take me?’

  ‘That again depends on you. You wouldn’t be an official apprentice so it would be up to you to set your own pace. You’d have a lot to learn as it’s not just preliminary design of the vessel.’

  ‘I need something to get my teeth into. I want to end up with a decent job. Do you think I could do it?’

  ‘Milo, I know you could. Didn’t I see what you were capable of when we all worked on Dido in your garden? Of course you’d have to work at it, but yes, I’m sure you have the ability.’

  Milo sat back with a sigh of satisfaction. ‘Then that’s what I’d like to do. But will I be able to get a job in Cammell Laird’s?’

  ‘There’s no problem there, the war has given us as much work as we can cope with and like everybody else we’re crying out for more staff.’ He scribbled a name and address on a scrap of paper. ‘Write your application to this fellow and we’ll take it from there.’

  Milo went home feeling better and did exactly what Mr Jenkins had suggested. He posted the letter the next day and went round to tell Alison that evening.

  When she came to the door, she almost fell on him. ‘You’ve come at just the right moment. Wait a sec while I get my coat.’ She came back buttoning it up and took his hand. ‘Let’s go for a walk.’ She led the way down the garden to the Esplanade.

  ‘Has something happened? You look as though you need a long walk,’ he pulled her arm through his.

  ‘I’ve just had a dust-up with Dad and Mum, so things are a bit chilly in there at the moment. I told them I didn’t want to go to university and I wasn’t going to apply. I want to be a newspaper reporter and I understand the Liverpool Echo takes on beginners from time to time but they like them to be able to type, and to have a knowledge of shorthand would be a help too.’

  Milo was pleased, it sounded as though Alison was planning to stay nearby. ‘What’s wrong with that? Is it because it won’t help the war effort? They’re afraid you’ll be directed to a munitions factory?’

  ‘I’ll probably be left alone if I stay in full-time education. No, they think if I’m to be a reporter I’d do better to go to university first. Get properly educated, as Mum put it.’

  ‘Nothing wrong with that either.’

 
‘The real trouble is Charlotte went to commercial college and as soon as she’d got the certificates to prove she was capable, she joined the WRNS. According to Mum she didn’t fulfil her potential – she’s working beneath her ability and all that, but honestly she loves it. They think I’ll do the same thing.’

  ‘They’re thinking of what would be best for you, Alison. Not like my father who was thinking of the family business, not of me. You should—’

  ‘Hang on,’ she held up her hand, ‘your advice was that I should make up my own mind and not be persuaded otherwise. Well, I have thought about it, I’ve made up my mind and I want to be a reporter, so don’t you turn against me.’ Alison was agitated and had broken away from him.

  ‘I’m not,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t. I’m all for it.’ He slid an arm round her waist and drew her closer. ‘I want you to stay here near me.’

  ‘That’s another thing. They think I’m too young to be thinking of boyfriends. I mean eighteen is eighteen, after all, and more than old enough to know what I want. They think you’ve talked me into staying near you.’

  ‘I wanted to,’ he admitted. ‘But I didn’t.’

  ‘No, you didn’t. It’s Mum, she went to Edinburgh University and she’d like her daughters to follow in her footsteps.’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t have to be Edinburgh, Liverpool is on the doorstep.’

  ‘It would take three years. I know she wants me to have what she had, but what good did all that studying do her? She taught for two years and then got married and had us five kids. She might as well not have bothered.’

  ‘It must have made her a wiser person.’

  ‘Absolutely not! She’s bigoted, she thinks that without university education we’ll get nowhere. I want to get on with my life but they think I’m in too much of a hurry to grow up. Don’t let yourself be persuaded into marriage until you’re older, they say.’

  Milo pulled her to a halt. ‘Has somebody asked you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that. I don’t want you whipped away from under my nose.’ He bent over and kissed her cheek, then pulled her closer and his lips fastened on hers.