by June Francis
Wendy did not answer immediately but then said in a low voice, ‘Mr Simpson, without a doubt, but don’t go repeating that to anyone.’
‘Of course not!’ Tilly dropped her voice, having decided to let her curiosity about this man have its way. ‘Tell me more about Mr Simpson.’
Wendy smiled. ‘He used to be a policeman but lost his job during the police strike last year. His pension went and everything! I know this because it happened to all those policemen who went on strike for better pay and conditions. It’s not that he’s complained to me about it. I’m sure you know that there’s thousands unemployed and the numbers are growing. I’ve sensed the anger in him when he talks about the unemployment situation.’
‘I know there’s a lot of dissatisfaction among the working classes about low wages and conditions, and that it’s led to strikes and go-slows,’ said Tilly. ‘Is Mr Simpson one of those who blames the situation on there being more women in the workforce?’
‘Oh no!’ Wendy’s eyes widened. ‘His sister was widowed and she’s got a job in Jacob’s biscuit factory. He’s got an office in town and he’s advertised his private detective agency in the Echo.’
‘Does he get much work?’
Wendy hesitated. ‘He doesn’t discuss his work with me. I suppose that’s why he’s called a private detective. But he did tell Mam that there’s lots of crimes that the police don’t have time to deal with that he could solve.’
Tilly was fascinated. ‘So where’s his agency?’
‘I can’t remember the address off-hand but he actually lives not far from us.’ She paused. ‘Look through the window! This is West Derby Road now. We’ve just passed the Hippodrome Theatre and will soon be passing Emmanuel’s Church. Then we’ll come to the Olympia Theatre and not far after that is the Palladium where Uncle Robbie plays. Our shop is on this side of the road after Boundary Lane, where there’s a tobacco factory.
Tilly gazed out of the window with interest. ‘And Mr Simpson’s house?’
‘He doesn’t have a house,’ said Wendy. ‘I heard him tell Mam he lives in lodgings with his sister and is lucky to have that. He’s only been there a couple of months. I suppose if it had been a month or so later he could have had Uncle Robbie’s room.’
Tilly’s ears pricked up. ‘Your Uncle Robbie’s room – is it for rent?’
‘I don’t think Mam’s thought about renting it out.’
To Tilly it suddenly seemed too good an opportunity to miss and she took a deep breath before saying, ‘Do you think she’d consider me as a lodger?’
‘You!’ Wendy stared at her. ‘Are you being funny? Uncle Robbie said you live in a lovely big house over in Chester. What would you want to come and live in Liverpool for?’ Tilly knew it was not the done thing to go telling strangers about the arguments and upsetting things that went on in the family so was wondering how to reply when a thought occurred to her. ‘Have you met my dad?’
Wendy flicked back her long hair. ‘You mean Uncle Robbie and Aunt Eudora’s gardener and general handyman?’
‘Yes.’
‘I hope you don’t mind my saying so but I find it hard to believe that he’s your father. I mean you talk posh and live in a big house and he’s a gardener.’
‘He was an engineer once, I believe, but he got ill after he changed his job and worked with lead.’
Wendy nodded. ‘I see. He was a man down on his luck and had to take any old job in the end.’
‘It wasn’t exactly like that,’ said Tilly, grimacing. ‘The main thing is that I want to live nearer to my dad. You see I only got to meet him last year.’
‘How come?’
Tilly began to tell her as much as she needed to know to rouse her sympathy but made no mention of Alice’s attitude to their father. She was hoping that if she could get Wendy on her side then she might be able to persuade her mother to take her on as her lodger.
‘I must admit that I thought there was something sad about him. He chunners away to himself and sometimes acts like there’s someone else there. I thought he might have been seeing ghosts – what with Auntie Eudora having been a medium, but she says not. Besides, since the war there’s plenty of men around who mutter away to themselves and keep shaking their heads as if they can’t get rid of the sound of the big guns. It’s a real shame.’
Tilly agreed that it was indeed a shame. Both girls fell silent, thinking of all those men mentally scarred by the Great War. The country did not seem to be doing much for them. So much for the land fit for heroes that Lloyd George had promised! thought Tilly.
‘He’s started work on the garden but it’s still a real mess,’ said Wendy. ‘A right jungle, my brother calls it. He said that he wouldn’t be surprised if there were a couple of tigers and snakes in there.’
Tilly smiled. ‘So will you introduce me to your mother so I can ask her about renting her spare room?’ she asked.
Wendy agreed. ‘OK. No doubt she’ll be glad of the extra money. What’ll you do about getting a job over here? You won’t be able to work for your family anymore.’
‘No. But I’m bound to be able to find something I can do,’ said Tilly confidently.
Wendy nodded. ‘Look, there’s the Palladium where Uncle Robbie works. See what film’s showing? The Romance of Lady Hamilton! Love, betrayal, death and adventure! It sounds fun.’
Tilly agreed that it sounded like the film had all the ingredients needed for a good story. She thought of her writing and hoped she would be able to prove to Alice that she had the talent to become a successful novelist. But first, she was going to have to find herself a job to pay rent and feed herself.
A few minutes later Joy slid back the glass partition between her and the driver and the girls in the back. ‘We’ll be there any minute. I hope you’re hungry, there’s lots of lovely food to eat!’
Wendy said, ‘I suppose it’ll be family hold back until the guests have helped themselves?’
Joy smiled. ‘I suppose it’ll be OK if you’re really hungry to snaffle a sandwich but not so it’s noticeable.’ She closed the partition.
Tilly looked out of the window, impatient to arrive at their destination and see her father before the newly-weds and other guests arrived.
The house overlooking Newsham Park was not as large as Eudora Black’s former home in Eastham. It was built of yellow brick and was three storeys high with bay windows on the ground and first floor and also plain rectangular ones on the second floor, as well as smaller dormer ones jutting out of the roof. The house was semi-detached but situated on a corner, so that there was plenty of room to park alongside it. The front garden showed signs of having been tidied up and Tilly presumed her father had begun work here first so as to create a good impression for the wedding guests. The car dropped them off at the kerb before turning round and heading back into town.
Tilly followed Joy and Wendy round the side of the house to the rear of the building. She was hoping she might see her father in the garden but there was no sign of him in the large walled area. But here, too, there was evidence that he had been at work despite former flowerbeds being a tangle of briars, brambles and ground elder. The grass had been cut and some earth cleared and raked over. At the far end of the garden there were fruit trees and an outhouse with windows on the ground floor and upper one. She wondered what purpose the building had served in the previous owner’s time.
Suddenly she noticed a face peering over the neighbouring wall with what appeared to be a bird’s nest on its head. She turned to Joy. ‘There’s someone watching us from next door.’
‘I know. Ignore her. She’s real nosy. Perhaps it goes with the name,’ said Joy, sounding exasperated. ‘Not that she ever speaks.’
‘Who is she?’ asked Tilly.
‘According to the maid who works in the house the other side of that one, she’s some sort of poor relative to the owner. He’s a Mr Leonard Parker and is in shipping. Apparently, his father died the other year and he inherited. I’ve yet to catch sigh
t of Mr Parker but I gather she’s acting as his housekeeper and caretaker while he’s away on business.’
‘The war’s left a lot of ship owners in trouble,’ said Wendy. ‘I heard Mr Simpson talking about it to some other bloke in the shop. A lot of ships were sent to the bottom by the German U-boats and the owners have got to find the money from somewhere to build new ones if they’re to remain in business.’
Joy shrugged. ‘They’re not the only ones to suffer due to the war. Anyway, I’ve work to do.’
Both girls nodded. ‘Have you any idea where Dad could be, Joy?’ asked Tilly, as they made their way to a rear door in the house.
‘If he hasn’t come to see who’s in the garden then I reckon he’s not in his living quarters down at the bottom of the garden. Most probably he’s taken Nanki Poo for a walk in the park. He shouldn’t be out too long so it’s no use you going to look for him.’
‘Is the dog named after a character in The Mikado?’ asked Tilly, thinking her father would probably be happier living in the outhouse rather than the attic of the main house.
Joy’s brown eyes twinkled. ‘That’s right. Although our Nanki Poo is supposed to be descended from a Chinese lion dog. He’s a Pekinese and belongs to Mr Bennett. Apparently, he always wanted a dog but due to his travelling about as a musician in America he never got round to having one.’
‘Mam wouldn’t let him have one,’ said Wendy. ‘She says she was bitten by a dog when she was a kid and it put her off them completely. She likes cats, though. We have two and they keep the mice down.’
‘You have mice!’ exclaimed Tilly.
‘They never last long,’ said Wendy cheerfully. ‘Tabby is a real good mouser.’
‘Enough about mice,’ said Joy, giving a little shiver. ‘I don’t have many horrors but mice is one of them. Anyway, Mr and Mrs Bennett will be here soon and I want everything ready by the time they and the guests arrive.’
The two girls said no more but followed her inside the house where there was a faint smell of paint. The maids were in the dining room and Joy gave them orders to remove the cloths. As soon as they did, Tilly’s mouth began to water. She had never seen such a spread. What with rationing of basic staples and other shortages, there were some foods her family had gone without during the war and since. She had not expected such a feast, but then Eudora Black had money and money talked. There were hams, several chickens, salmon, plates of pastries and sandwiches, bowls of salads, as well as bread and butter, trifles, apple tarts and chocolate, coffee and fruit cake.
‘I never realised she was so rich,’ said Wendy.
‘The mistress is a clever woman and has been careful with her investments. Your uncle isn’t daft with money, either,’ said Joy. ‘Now, Tilly, you relax and have a look around. It’s a nice house now it’s been done up.’
Tilly was not of a mind to go wandering far but she took a peep into the drawing room, which was lit by electricity, and she noticed not only was there a piano but the room had been cleared for dancing. She was tempted to lift the piano lid and run her fingers over the keys. Seb had been generous enough to pay for piano lessons for her when she was younger and she loved music, almost as much as she loved writing. But she resisted.
The french windows were ajar but the scent of roses and carnations came not from the garden, but vases set on surfaces around the room. She gazed outside, hoping to see her father returning with Nanki Poo, but there was no sign of him. She felt slightly anxious about him, hoping he would not deliberately stay out longer to avoid the guests.
She returned to the dining room in time to see the maids placing plates of hot sausage rolls and pies on one of the tables. Joy and Wendy were bringing in bottles of champagne in ice buckets and setting them on another table where there were glasses on trays.
‘I don’t suppose we’ll get to sup the champagne,’ said Tilly, going over to them.
Joy smiled. ‘Oh, I think you’ll be allowed one glass as this is a special occasion.’ She stilled suddenly. ‘Is that the sound of a car? I must go and open the door to them.’ She hurried away.
Wendy quickly snaffled a sausage roll. ‘Have you ever drunk champagne?’ she asked.
‘No, only sherry.’
Wendy smiled. ‘I have. Me and the kids were allowed a taste when Uncle Robbie and Aunt Eudora got engaged. I’m glad it will be out of a proper glass and not someone’s slipper.’
Tilly’s eyes twinkled. ‘What if it were a glass slipper like ‘Cinderella’s?’
‘Still, wouldn’t fancy it,’ said Wendy seriously. ‘She’ll have worn it, won’t she?’ She stuffed the tiny sausage roll in her mouth, only to spit half of it out onto the palm of her hand. ‘Bloothy hell! That’s hot! I think I’ve burnt me tongue,’ she added in a muffled voice.
Tilly stifled a laugh. ‘Drink of water?’
Wendy nodded and the pair of them left the dining room and headed for the kitchen, narrowly avoiding the bride and groom and the first of the guests as they entered the house.
‘That was a close call,’ said Wendy, after downing half a glass of water. ‘If Mam had been there she would have said it served me right for being greedy.’
‘I don’t think you’re greedy, just hungry like I am. It seems a long time since breakfast,’ said Tilly, wishing she’d got Joy to point out Mrs Wright to her earlier. The woman sounded a bit of a tyrant.
‘I didn’t have breakfast. Mam was arranging for an old crony of hers to look after the shop while I had the job of chivvying the others to get up and get ready. She thinks we’ve got to keep on the right side of Aunt Eudora.’ Wendy looked thoughtful. ‘I still find it hard to take in that I’ve got a rich aunt. You know she’s got lots of properties in Liverpool? She was left them by her dead husband.’
‘Well, he’d hardly leave it to her if he were still alive,’ said Tilly, her lips twitching.
Wendy giggled. ‘You know what I mean. They’re not houses like this, though,’ she said seriously. ‘She took me around with her to visit some of her tenants in her motor. Your dad drove us.’
Tilly blinked at her. ‘Dad drove? I didn’t know he could drive.’
‘Uncle Robbie has been giving him lessons. He wants to carry on playing in the orchestra at the Palladium and as Aunt Eudora has her finger in several pies that take her to parts of Liverpool that aren’t as nice as here, he said that she needed a man with her.’
‘You do surprise me,’ said Tilly.
‘But it does make some sense. If there’s any trouble he’s quite strong, isn’t he? He could protect her. All that digging and mowing in the garden builds muscle,’ said Wendy.
‘I suppose you’re right. But I wouldn’t like him to get hurt,’ said Tilly.
‘Uncle Robbie is thinking along the lines that he’d be more of a deterrent. Aunt Eudora’s planning on making improvements to her properties. I think the work here made her realise it’s not only a garden that falls into rack and ruin if it isn’t looked after but the buildings, too. Some of her tenants still cook on the fire and don’t even have gas light in all the rooms but make do with candles. There are some really poor people in Liverpool, you know. And losing husbands, brothers and fathers has made some families’ situations much worse.’
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ said Tilly, moved by Wendy’s words. ‘I’ve led a pretty sheltered life – but that’s not to say that there weren’t times when my family weren’t hard up. I remember Hanny telling me that when I was little I lived with her and Kenny in rooms in a coal merchant’s terraced house, near the railway. Things got really bad when Kenny had his foot damaged and couldn’t keep both his jobs going. Hanny wanted to go out and get a job but he didn’t want that and they had terrible rows.’
‘Poverty is a killer,’ said Wendy.
Tilly looked at her, thinking she was very perceptive and decided to change the subject. ‘What was this house like before they moved in?’
‘Dark,’ said Wendy, glancing about the kitchen with its newly painted
walls of eggshell blue. ‘Really dark with brown paintwork and peeling wallpaper and yellowing ceilings. It gave me the shivers when Uncle Robbie brought me and Mam here to have a look at it. The old spinster who lived here hadn’t had anything done for years. Poor soul. Anyway, it’s looking nice now,’ added Wendy on a cheery note. ‘There’s a lovely bathroom upstairs and two lavatories, one inside and one out. I just love this house.’
‘Do you have a bathroom over the shop?’ asked Tilly.
‘No, just a tin bath we bring in from the yard and fill from the kettle if we want a bath on a Saturday night,’ said Wendy. ‘Otherwise, we make do with a wash down or go to the public baths.’
Tilly drew in a breath. Wendy stared at her. ‘Oh dear, I suppose that’s put you off renting our spare room,’ she said. ‘Even our lavatory is outside.’
With a sinking heart, Tilly hastened to reassure her that it hadn’t. ‘If I want to be near Dad then I have to live over here.’ She did not add that she could not see herself being able to afford anything better and she still had to find herself a job. Of course, she was presuming Mrs Wright would take her on as a lodger and that the rent she asked was within her means.
‘Good,’ said Wendy, her grey eyes pleased. ‘I suppose we’d best get back to the dining room and see whether Mam and the kids have arrived. Besides, we don’t want all the other guests to tuck in and eat everything before we have a chance to fill our bellies.’
Tilly agreed and followed her out of the kitchen. She could not help wondering about what the rest of the living quarters were like behind and above Mrs Wright’s shop. She thought of all that she took for granted at her home in Chester and almost wished she had kept her mouth shut about leaving home. But there was no going back now.
Chapter Four
Guests were crowding into the dining room and the champagne was being poured and space had been made for the bride and groom to say a few words. Tilly spotted members of her family but before she could go over and speak to them, Wendy was leading her over to a woman wearing a navy blue costume and plain felt hat trimmed with a white gardenia. What could be seen of her hair was grey and fluffy. She had a long face and cheekbones that jutted out, and she was frowning. Suddenly she must have spotted the two girls, because her heavy-lidded eyes widened.
