Coming Home to Liverpool

by Kate Eastham

When at last he loosened his grip, Maud could see that he was close to tears. She reached a hand up to his face, gently stroking his bristled cheek, feeling the dampness of his tears. Then she stepped back a little, remembering the watch in her pocket. She’d unwrapped it so that it would fit snugly in the palm of her hand and she could surprise him with it.

  When she looked back at Harry, she opened her mouth to speak but in that moment she saw his expression change as he looked past her and then his whole body stiffened. He took a few paces away from her.

  ‘What is it?’ she gasped, turning around to look in the direction he was gazing.

  ‘Nothing, nothing,’ he muttered, pulling her back to face him, and then he held both her arms firmly.

  ‘What?’ she asked, seeing the colour draining from his face.

  ‘Come on, we need to get going,’ he urged, glancing over his shoulder as he put an arm around her and took Alfred’s hand and started to walk purposefully away.

  Maud glanced at his profile and saw the determined set of his stubbled chin. She couldn’t work out why he was moving them away so fast, she didn’t even know where they were going.

  He glanced over his shoulder again, and she felt the heaving of his chest as he sighed heavily. He stopped dead in his tracks.

  ‘Stay there!’ he called, stepping around her.

  Maud reached for Alfred and held tight to him. The watch was still ticking in her hand as they both turned to see Harry striding away, with the dog trotting obediently at his side.

  A woman with blonde hair was standing directly in Harry’s path. She was holding a baby in her arms. Maud knew who the woman was immediately and the realization sent a sliver of pain through her heart. She watched as Harry stopped in front of her. She could see the square set of his shoulders, and it looked as though he was shouting at her. And then he turned to walk back towards them but the woman stepped around him, thrusting the baby at him. He pushed past and started walking back to her and Alfred. She could see the anguish on his face, and she watched as the woman followed him, grabbing hold of his arm, trying to hold on, remonstrating with him. Harry was shaking his head, trying to pull himself free, and then he looked back at Maud. She could see the frozen horror on his face and she felt it go right through her body. She stared at him, not wanting to accept what was going on between him and the woman.

  Nancy Sellers.

  Time froze as Maud stood perfectly still.

  She heard Tessa’s voice behind her. ‘What in God’s name is Maud’s husband doing there, with that woman?’

  And then Daniel murmured, ‘Jeez,’ and whistled softly through his teeth.

  Something clicked inside Maud then. She had no choice but to accept what was being played out between Harry and Nancy. And in that split second of realization the watch fell from her hand, shattering to pieces as it hit the ground. Alfred was down on his knees immediately, collecting up the broken glass. He’ll cut his hands, she thought, somewhere at the back of her mind, but she didn’t seem able to do anything to stop him. And when she spoke, she could hardly hear the sound of her own voice. ‘Stay here, Alfred. Stay with Tessa.’

  As she walked, Maud kept her eyes on Harry, stock still, with his head bowed now, as Nancy ran her hand up and down his arm. Her eyes were able to pick out tiny details of the scene – the delicate stitching of the baby’s white shawl, the shiny patent leather of Nancy’s shoe peeping out from beneath her gown, the glint of the gold-loop earring that Harry always wore. Then the forlorn cry of a gull as it circled overhead pierced the frozen silence and made the baby stir in Nancy’s arms. Maud felt the reality of her situation register, with a sense of dull inevitability.

  She didn’t even glance at Harry, she went straight to Nancy.

  Face to face.

  ‘What are you doing with my husband?’ she asked, surprised by the strength and the clarity of her own voice. And when there was no reply, ‘I said, what are you doing with my husband?’

  Nancy had a strange smile on her face now, and her blue eyes were bright, too bright. Maud leant in; she could hear the rasp of her breathing and the small snuffles of the baby. She breathed in Nancy’s lily of the valley scent, and when she moved her lips to speak Maud noted the fine cracks in the paint on her lips.

  ‘Well, Maud, this is quite a homecoming, isn’t it?’ Nancy sneered. And then, nodding towards the tiny baby in her arms, she said, almost casually, ‘This is your husband’s daughter.’

  ‘How can you be so sure of that?’ gasped Maud, her breath coming in quick bursts. But when she glanced down to the baby girl in Nancy’s arms, she saw the full head of dark hair and the perfect rosebud mouth. And she knew, in that instant, she knew that there was no question about it. The beautiful child that lay innocently in Nancy’s arms was indeed Harry’s.

  She felt something tilt and slip sideways. And when she looked up, she could see the triumph in Nancy’s eyes and the curve of her mouth. She knew that she would never forget the expression on her face in that moment. And now it was too late, there was nothing more that she could say.

  As she turned to walk away, she saw Harry’s silhouette out of the corner of her eye. He was trying to follow and speak to her, but her head felt muffled. All she could hear was the dog, whining miserably, and it made her feel agitated. Harry tried to grab her arm but she wrenched free. All she wanted was to get away from him, from them, and go back to Alfred.

  Then Harry was standing in front of her, his face pleading, his voice breaking. He was sobbing.

  She pushed him away. ‘Go to her, Harry. Go to the mother of your child.’ And she turned her back on him then, not in fury, not yet, but with immense sadness. Sadness that, if she let it, would drag her to her knees, there and then. And then she saw Alfred, standing dejected, with the broken pieces of the watch in his hand, and she knew that she had to try and take charge of the situation. She took deep breaths, forced her chin up and made herself walk steadily towards him.

  ‘Put the pieces of the watch in here, Alfred,’ she said, shakily, rooting in her pocket for a handkerchief and then turning around with Alfred so they were both facing away from the grim spectacle.

  She could see Tessa and Daniel waiting, and she forced herself to walk towards them, drawing Alfred along with her. Then she glanced behind, to check that they weren’t being followed by Harry or Nancy.

  ‘Do you need anything, Maud?’ murmured Tessa, putting a hand on her arm. ‘It’s easy to see what’s been going on there, so you don’t need to tell us anything. We understand, and if there’s anything that we can do …’

  Maud felt her breath catch. If Alfred hadn’t been there, she would have sunk on to Tessa’s shoulder and wept. But instead she straightened up and set her mouth in a firm line and said, ‘No, that’s all right, thank you, Tessa.’

  ‘Well, my darlin’, I’m so sorry that you’ve had such a day. Men can be such pigs, and it can take a long time before you find one that you can trust. You come and find me if you want to talk,’ she said, slipping a piece of paper into Maud’s hand. ‘This is where we’re living now.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Maud, trying to smile, but her face didn’t seem to work properly.

  As Maud watched Tessa walk away with Daniel and Barnaby, she felt the first stirrings of anger. Seeing them, arm in arm, heading home with their child, it brought into focus exactly what had just happened. She felt her heart pick up its rhythm as the anger started to build within her. She took a deep breath to try and control it, but when she saw Alfred, still standing dejected, with big tears rolling down his face, that’s when she felt the full force of it. Pure, clean anger. She could have stood there and howled with the intensity of it, but instead she took a deep breath and swallowed it all down, deep inside. With her shaking hand she took the handkerchief containing the shattered watch carefully from Alfred and pushed it into her pocket. Then she crouched down and put her arms around him, pulling him close, murmuring that she was sorry for what had happened.

  �
��I didn’t even get time to speak to him properly or stroke Rita. And I forgot to give her the piece of ham.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ repeated Maud, kissing his head, wiping his tears with her hand. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘When will we see him again? Will he come back?’ Alfred hiccupped.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Maud, ‘I really don’t know. We’ll just have to wait and see, I suppose.’

  Alfred nodded his head. ‘At least I got to give him my drawing. And he said that he liked it.’

  ‘Oh well, that’s good, then,’ murmured Maud, squeezing his hand so that she wouldn’t cry. ‘What do you want to do now, Alfred? Where do you want to go?’

  ‘Back to school,’ he said. ‘I just want to go to my lessons.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, trying to smile as he looked up at her with tears still in his eyes.

  ‘All right, then.’

  They walked in silence for a while as Maud still held tight to his hand. She could sense how weighed down he was with everything but still he tried to hold up his head, occasionally glancing up at her with a small smile. He is such a special boy, thought Maud, gaining strength from his stoical approach.

  As they neared the school, Maud sensed Alfred slowing his pace. She wondered if he’d changed his mind, after all, about going back to his lessons. But then he looked up at her and spoke quietly. ‘That woman with the baby, she worked on the ward with you when I was in hospital, didn’t she?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ replied Maud, squeezing his hand again.

  ‘And she was at the harbour that day we came back from America. And I could see then that she was going to have a baby.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She was at the harbour when we came back,’ he continued innocently. ‘Eddy and Alice saw her, too.’

  Maud almost gasped. So that was it, that was the thing they’d been hiding from her.

  She cleared her throat. ‘Well, Alfred, I don’t want you worrying about this thing with Harry. He’ll be back to see you soon, I’m sure he will. He’s just got some other business to attend to at the moment. You know what he’s like.’

  ‘Maud,’ said Alfred, stopping in his tracks and holding her gaze with his clear blue eyes, ‘I know that what has happened between Harry and that woman with the baby isn’t about his business. And I’m thinking that it might not be easy for us to see Harry again.’

  Maud felt tears stinging her eyes.

  ‘But I will make sure that I try to stay happy, for your sake, and for the sake of my lessons. I don’t want to fall behind with my work.’

  Maud swallowed hard and held back a sob. ‘I am very proud of you, Alfred. I promise that I’ll do all that I can to find out exactly what’s going on with Harry, and I will tell you properly about everything in future.’

  As they entered the courtyard of the Blue Coat, Maud pulled Alfred into a tight embrace, whispering words of comfort and promising that she would come and see him just as soon as she had another half day off. He was nodding as he drew away from her and Maud reached out a hand to straighten his hair, placing one final kiss on his smooth cheek before letting him go.

  ‘I’ll see you as soon as I can and I’ll write to you,’ she called as he ascended the steps.

  He turned with a nod and closed the door, with a heavy click, behind him.

  The moment he was gone from view, Maud felt her legs weaken. She took a deep breath, she knew that she would have to find somewhere to recover before she could make it back to Stella’s place.

  She looked over to the solid structure of St Peter’s Church and knew that was where she needed to be. The blackened stone and bulky octagonal tower had substance, and she was drawn to the building and the green grass that surrounded it. She walked through the wrought-iron gate straight up to the walls of the church. The patchy blackness of the stone showed layer after layer of accretion – soot and dust – the ongoing life of an industrious city. She placed the palms of both hands against the stone and rested there for a few moments. She’d hoped, somehow, that the building would give her some comfort, but the blackened walls had nothing to offer. She stepped back and scanned the tall arched windows but their leaded glass was dark and empty. Maud made her way around the church, past the ancient graves, still looking for something. She needed to sit down, rest somewhere. She saw a low wall that edged the path leading through the gate out on to Church Street. She slumped down on it, hardly able to take in the murmurings of life from the street. As she sat, she plucked at the weeds growing out of the wall. A gust of wind, coming as if from nowhere, caught up some dried leaves from the path. And then the wind swirled again and some leaves and dust blew over her. She brushed at her coat and picked them out of her hair. It seemed that in one day the whole city had turned against her. She felt alone and betrayed. Like the child that she’d been in the weeks after her mother died, when her grandmother had turned on her angrily one day, slapping her hard across the face. She’d never spoken out of turn again after that.

  Maud’s chest felt so tight she could hardly breathe. She saw a small boy with a grubby face and bare feet walk by, his shoulders slumped. His head had been shaved but he looked about the same age as the boy that she’d carried to the hospital. She wanted to reach out to him, try and help him, but she was barely able to breathe and she knew that her legs wouldn’t hold her. The boy gave her a wide-eyed glance over his shoulder before he slipped out through the church gate and went on his way, soon lost from sight amidst the busy street. She felt shame. Shame that she was letting what had happened overwhelm her. Shame that she couldn’t chase after that poor boy, who was starving hungry, and press some coins into his hand. Maybe the few coins would save his life. But he was gone now, wandering through the city all alone, and the opportunity had been missed.

  ‘Come on, Maud,’ she murmured to herself, feeling the cold dampness of the wall seeping into her bones. ‘Get yourself moving.’ She could have cried, but instead she made herself get up.

  She bit it all down, just like she’d always done, making herself stand tall, pulling her skirt straight. And as she walked away from the ancient soot-blackened church of St Peter’s, she felt something that had rested inside of her from when she was a child – a toughness that she’d always needed – starting to harden.

  12

  ‘Women dream till they have no longer the strength to dream …’

  Florence Nightingale

  As Maud walked out on to Church Street she glanced down to check that her black wool coat was perfectly straight. She felt a strong urge to walk in the direction of the hospital, there and then, and get straight back to work. She’d been left high and dry. If it hadn’t been for the knowledge that she’d have to explain herself over and over to all the people that she’d told, so excitedly, that she was going to spend an afternoon with her dear friend to celebrate her birthday, she would have definitely gone back to the ward and put herself straight back to work.

  And there was another thing, of course. There was Alice. She couldn’t confront her on the ward about Nancy; that wouldn’t be fair to the patients. She would need to deal with Alice – and, of course, Eddy – this evening. Why, oh why, had they thought that the best option was to keep quiet about Nancy and the pregnancy and all that indicated. Why?

  So her only option was to head back towards Lime Street and Stella’s place. Maybe she could help Marie with some of the chores, start to think about what her next move might be. She tried to make some kind of plan as she walked, but her head felt heavy on her shoulders and it took all of her concentration to weave her way through the people on the street and cross the road between vehicles. Even when a carriage wheel whisked by her, very close, and she was inches away from injury, Maud felt nothing. She was numb. When she reached Lime Street Station, the sound of a steam whistle shocked her and then, as a cloud of steam emerged, she felt lost within it. She was bumping into people, blindly stumbling along.

  ‘Wa
tch where you’re going,’ hissed a woman’s voice.

  Maud felt tears stinging her eyes. She felt as if she might never find her way. But then a kindly gentleman with silver hair took her by the elbow, leading her along like some maiden aunt. ‘There you go, my dear,’ he said, tipping his hat as he left her, clear of the steam and only a very short distance from home.

  The quiet of the house met Maud as she walked through the door. She could feel the emptiness of the place, and then she remembered that Stella was out on some business and Marie had said she would be taking Victoria to see friends and they were going to visit the new Sefton Park. They’d told her this morning, when she was full of excitement at the prospect of seeing Harry. Now the emptiness of the house, and the cold dregs of tea in the cups on the table, made her feel even sadder.

  Hugo lifted his head to look at her, as if asking a question, as he lay stretched out in front of the fire.

  ‘No, it didn’t go well,’ she murmured.

  He gazed at her for a second, blinked, and then put his head back down.

  Hmph, that’s about right, Hugo, thought Maud, trying to unbutton her coat. But she was all fingers and thumbs, feeling like she just wanted to rip it wide open and send the buttons flying across the kitchen. But she made herself take her time, one by one, and soon she had the coat off and hung up in a neat row with the others behind the door.

  She made herself a slice of bread and butter to try and fill the empty feeling inside her. But the plate sat on the kitchen table, untouched. She couldn’t manage one crumb. She brewed herself some tea with two big spoons of sugar, good for shock. But she put it down and forgot to drink it. All she seemed able to do was sit in the chair and stare at the fire, or pace the room. She needed to make a plan but all she could see in her head were flashes of Harry’s dazed face, the triumphant look in Nancy’s eyes, and the sweet face of the baby, Harry’s baby. A child that should have been hers.

  Maud swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. Tears were welling up and she couldn’t stop them this time – the thought of the baby, sleeping like a tiny angel in Nancy’s arms. Maud sobbed, her throat so tight now that she could hardly breathe, and then she cried and cried. She rooted in her pocket for her handkerchief but only found the broken watch—