by June Francis
She and Wendy had stayed close since then, but not for much longer. The other girl was engaged and would be getting married later in the year and leaving the police force. Hester almost envied her for having found the right man, but not for having to give up her job to become a housewife and mother.
‘Anything to report?’ asked Hester of her friend.
Wendy glanced up. ‘An incident at a chippy in Norton Street in which a bicycle chain was used as a weapon.’
Hester froze and then asked casually, ‘Anyone hurt?’
‘Some bloke who didn’t hang around long enough to make a statement, and neither did a girl who was involved.’
‘Did they get her name?’
‘They have a lead and are hoping to speak to someone this morning.’
Hester’s heart sank. ‘Did they arrest whoever used the chain?’
‘Local lad who claimed it was an accident. He’s been in trouble before for pilfering. Anyway, our man spoke to the local priest, so we should find out more later. The chief constable is determined to put a stop to these Teddy Boys using bicycle chains and knuckle dusters. He wants the man and the girl found. Anyway, you can read the rest for yourself,’ said Wendy, pushing a sheet of paper across to her friend.
Hester’s fingers quivered as she took the paper, but she didn’t read it immediately. Instead she thought about what Jeanette had said. She was going to have to report that the girl involved was her sister and dreaded doing so. It would create trouble at home with a capital T. She began to read the report, but then Wendy nudged her as several more women constables and a female sergeant entered the room and she had to pause.
‘Anything going on down at the Pierhead that requires our presence?’ asked one of the other WPCs.
‘You should know by now that any trouble down at the waterfront is the province of the men,’ said Wendy.
‘That’s the docks. It could be that the men will need a woman to help control the queues for the Isle of Man boats,’ said the same WPC. ‘There’s bound to be women and children amongst ’em and there’s those that believe we’re better at dealing with ’em.’
A discussion ensued.
Wendy glanced at Hester and rolled her eyes. ‘You going anywhere this evening?’ she whispered.
‘Supposed to be going to see that prison film with Aunt Ethel,’ said Hester, pulling a face. ‘I suppose you and Charley have plans?’
Wendy sighed. ‘I’d love to go dancing, but we’ve still got a fair amount to do to the flat before the wedding. You are coming, aren’t you?’
‘I’ve put in a request to change my shift for that day, so fingers crossed I’ll be there,’ said Hester, smiling.
‘Your Sam said that he’s going to try and come to the evening do.’
‘Great,’ said Hester brightly. ‘At least if no one else asks me to dance, I can dance with my own brother.’
‘He’s a marvellous dancer, your Sam!’ A smile played around Wendy’s lips. ‘I know plenty of girls who would be happy to get whizzed around the dance floor by him.’
Hester said wryly, ‘He always did say that doing a course in ballroom dancing would prove useful one day.’
‘Are you ready for inspection?’ interrupted the sergeant. ‘Walker, we’ve had a request for a WPC from the CID. It would be appreciated if you volunteered since you have already done part of your plain-clothes training.’
‘Yes, Sergeant,’ said Hester, straightening up and squaring her shoulders. ‘When do I have to go?’
‘You’ll be needed later this afternoon and for this evening, so you can go home now and report to the CID superintendent at two o’clock. You’ll be given all the information you need then.’
‘Can’t you give me a hint what it’s about, so I’ll know what to wear?’
The sergeant shook her head. ‘You know as much as I do.’
Hester knew Ethel was not going to be pleased about this change of plan, but at least it meant she could put off saying anything about Jeanette’s involvement in the incident at the chippy. Besides, it could be helpful if she spoke to Jeanette a bit more about what had happened before she reported it. If she changed into the plain clothes she kept in her locker, she could visit that milk bar in Leece Street that Jeanette had mentioned. She would leave her bicycle here, preferring to walk than to weave through the traffic on her bike. It was the other side of town, not far from the cathedral, but it should not take her that long to get there.
Three
There was a spring in Jeanette’s step as she walked past Lime Street station and the Punch and Judy cafe. She was glad to have escaped the house and be in town, despite having no money to spend. Hopefully she would be better off by the end of the day. She dawdled past the Futurist and Scala cinemas, gazing at the publicity shots of forthcoming films and the main feature that evening. Then she crossed a side street to the Adelphi, considering it almost miraculous that the hotel should have survived the blitz undamaged when Lewis’s department store just across the way had been completely gutted; it had since been rebuilt.
Thinking of the blitz reminded her of her mother and she wished that she knew for certain what had happened to her. With three members of the police force in the family, one would think they could get at the truth. She also wished she knew whether the young man who had sprung to her defence the previous night had seen a doctor. No doubt he would need stitches in that wound and she winced at the thought.
She carried on up Renshaw Street and stopped to gaze at the toys in the baby shop window, wondering if she would ever have children herself. How old had her mother been when she gave birth to her? Ethel always harped on about Grace being too young for George. How young was young in the old woman’s eyes? Jeanette sauntered past the Methodist Central Hall and car showrooms, imagining life without Ethel and her spirits lifted. No more nagging, no more being locked in her bedroom. Suddenly, she remembered why she had been so desperate to be set free that morning and lengthened her stride, impatient now to reach the milk bar. She paused to gaze at Quiggins’ window display of locks, where one of Peggy’s brothers worked. If the shop had been open, she would have gone inside and asked if her friend had arrived home safely.
It was only a short distance from Quiggins to Leece Street where the milk bar was situated. The door was open and a man was carrying a crate of milk bottles inside. Jeanette took a deep breath before entering. A woman with blonde hair, showing dark at the roots, was leaning on the counter. She was dressed in a pale pink nylon overall, and a lighted cigarette appeared to be stuck to her scarlet-painted lower lip. Jeanette had judged her age to be about forty when she had spoken to her the other day.
Eyeing Jeanette up and down and drawing on her cigarette before blowing out a perfect smoke ring, she said, ‘I didn’t expect you to show up so early.’
‘I want the job so I made sure I was in plenty of time, Mrs Cross.’ Something different about the place suddenly caught Jeanette’s eye and her face lit up. ‘A jukebox! When did that come?’
‘Yesterday.’ Mrs Cross smiled. ‘Interested in all the latest hits, are you?’
Jeanette nodded. ‘Although I like all kinds of music.’
‘Well, we’ll be having just the most popular hits. Monster, isn’t it? Let’s hope it brings the youngsters in.’
‘I’m sure it will,’ said Jeanette, thinking there were few homes in Liverpool that had the means to play all the latest hit records from America. She unfastened her coat. ‘Would you like me to start right away, and do you have an overall for me?’
‘Sure you can start now! It’ll give me a chance to see if you’re worth the money I’ll be paying you.’
Jeanette knew she was only getting paid buttons, but hopefully she would be allowed to wait on tables and if so she’d surely be left some tips. Although, as it was teenagers her employer was hoping to attract, she couldn’t see herself making much that way.
As she worked, Jeanette’s eyes kept straying to the jukebox. Presumably the youngst
ers Mrs Cross mentioned would be students from the university, as well as the Liverpool Institute and School of Art, when they reopened after the summer holidays. Her employer probably pictured them coming in here for a milk shake and a sandwich or sticky currant bun on their way down into the city centre, lingering once they set eyes on the jukebox. Although, surely there must be plenty of other young people needing a place to chat and listen to music. She wished Peggy was here to see the musical monster.
She frowned, wondering what had happened between Peggy and Greg that had caused her brother to beat him up. A sigh escaped her as she thought again of the young man who had come to her rescue. If she had known what was going to happen, she’d have been out of the chippy like a shot as soon as Peggy suggested leaving. Yet if she had left, he would never have kissed her. Wouldn’t it be marvellous if one day he walked into the milk bar and swept her off her feet? She smiled to herself, hoping that it would not be long before some customers came in.
Jeanette did not have long to wait and for a while the place became so busy that Mrs Cross told her she could wait-on. She found herself quite enjoying the work. It was so different from her weekday occupation in a shipping warehouse office, and there was the added bonus of being able to listen to the music on the jukebox.
She’d had a closer look at the machine and seen that it played 45s, which meant because the records were smaller than the old 78s there were plenty of titles to choose from. She found it a struggle not to give in to the urge to jig around to Bill Haley & his Comets singing ‘Shake, Rattle and Roll’ as she carried dirty glasses and crockery to the kitchen. She grinned, imagining Ethel’s horror if she were to listen to such music at home. The old witch dominated what programmes the family listened to on the wireless, so Jeanette scarcely ever got the chance to tune in to what she wanted.
Jeanette was taking a well-earned break when the door opened and Hester entered the milk bar, startling her so she dropped the last bit of bun in her tea, which annoyed her no end. Swiftly she rescued it before sliding from the stool behind the counter and facing her half-sister. ‘What are you doing here?’ she whispered.
‘I’m glad to see you, too,’ said Hester, glancing about her. ‘Where’s your boss?’
‘In the back. Why?’
Hester leaned closer to Jeanette and said in a low voice, ‘I’ve come to tell you that quite a fuss is being made of that fight in the chippy. A search is being made for you and that young man you mentioned.’
‘Damn!’ The colour ebbed from Jeanette’s cheeks. ‘Does Dad know?’
‘I’ve no idea.’ Hester pushed back a hank of dark hair and sighed. ‘Your name wasn’t mentioned but they have a lead that could connect to you. The chief constable is determined to put a stop to fights involving Teddy Boys and bicycle chains.’
Jeanette clung to Hester’s arm. ‘Please, don’t tell your sergeant that I’m the girl they’re looking for!’ she pleaded.
‘I don’t know what to do,’ said Hester unhappily. ‘I should have already reported that you were involved, but I wanted to talk to you first. It would be best if you came forward and told them what happened.’
Jeanette gulped. ‘If I go and talk to the police, Aunt Ethel is bound to hear of it and I’ll never live it down. She’ll go on about me being like my mother!’
‘I know, although if you were to tell Dad first, he might just keep quiet about it.’
‘Fat chance of that,’ said Jeanette gloomily. ‘He’ll want her to keep a better eye on me so I don’t get into more trouble. I won’t be allowed out evenings.’
Mrs Cross came in from the back and looked their way. ‘That your boss?’ asked Hester in a low voice.
‘Yes.’
‘Then I’d better order something.’
‘Cup of coffee and a scone?’ suggested Jeanette.
‘Yes, that’ll be fine.’
Hester perched on a stool and pulled off her gloves and shoved them in her pocket, watching her sister busy herself behind the counter. ‘So how’s it going so far?’ she asked.
‘All right,’ said Jeanette, placing a coffee in front of Hester before picking up a buttered scone with a pair of tongs and putting it on a plate. ‘So why aren’t you wearing your uniform – although I have to admit I’m glad you’re not.’
‘I’m to report to CID later.’
Jeanette’s green eyes showed interest. ‘Doing what?’
‘Could be that it’s a raid and women and children are involved, so they want a woman on hand. Or undercover work, where I have to pretend to be a girlfriend of one of the men,’ said Hester casually.
‘I wish I had your job,’ said Jeanette wistfully. ‘Aren’t you excited at the thought of doing something that years ago a woman wouldn’t have been allowed to do?’
Hester looked thoughtful. ‘It had to happen, but it was two world wars that helped bring it about – and we still haven’t got equal wages with the men.’
Jeanette nodded, although she knew little about it.
At that moment the door opened and a couple of girls entered. ‘You’d best pay me for that coffee and scone now,’ whispered Jeanette. ‘Mrs Cross is looking this way. She’ll be expecting me to see to those two, I bet.’
‘OK.’ Hester took out her purse and glanced at the price list on the wall behind the counter. She placed the money on the table and slipped tuppence across to Jeanette. ‘There’s your tip. I’ll go as soon as I’ve finished.’
Jeanette grinned. ‘Thanks. Good luck for this evening.’
‘I think it’s you who are going to need the luck when you get home,’ said Hester. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if our Sam is involved with this CID business, so I’ll be OK. You’ll have to face Dad. Don’t forget to tell him about your involvement in that fight in the chippy and he’ll probably go with you to the bridewell for moral support.’
Jeanette pulled a face and glanced at her employer. ‘I’m going to have to go. Mrs Cross will be on my back if I linger here any longer.’
‘OK, but you are listening to me, aren’t you? I don’t want to have to report you to my sergeant. It’s best coming from you.’
Jeanette nodded and left Hester to finish her coffee.
Jeanette was ready to collapse by the time she arrived home. And – oh joy! – she had the house to herself. Her feet and back had never ached so much. Only briefly had she given a thought to going into Quiggins as she passed the shop and speaking to Peggy’s brother, only to decide she was too tired to cope with any hassle about what had happened Friday evening. She concealed her minuscule wages and the tips she had received in a safe place in her bedroom and was just considering having a bath when she heard the sound of a key in the front door. Her heart began to race. Most likely it would be Ethel and she still had not worked out exactly what she was going to say to her. Then the door opened and Sam entered the lobby.
Her half-brother was a good-looking bloke with a thatch of thick flaxen hair and chiselled features, just like the film star Douglas Fairbanks Jnr. He was also protective towards her, on the whole. She remembered him telling her that he was the last person to speak to her mother before she had left the house that fateful day in May 1941, when she had asked him to keep an eye on Jeanette.
‘Am I glad it’s you,’ she said. ‘Would you like me to make you a cup of tea?’
‘You can if you want to get on the right side of me,’ said Sam, hanging up his mackintosh.
She slanted him an uncertain look before hurrying into the kitchen. ‘D’you want me to make you a cheese butty as well? I don’t know what Aunt Ethel is planning for tea. She’s out.’
‘A couple of cheese butties will be fine. I’m working this evening, so I’ll get something more substantial at the canteen later.’ Sam sat at the kitchen table and drummed his fingers on the table top, gazing at her from narrowed brown eyes. ‘I’m glad I found you here. Where were you earlier?’
‘Working.’ She filled the kettle and put it on the stove.
�
��Don’t lie. Dad was in a right state this morning when I got up, and the old witch was blowing her top because you’d vanished. She swore that it was your Saturday morning off and, just to make sure, Dad phoned your workplace.’
Jeanette was horrified. ‘Oh no!’
‘He’d been informed that you were involved in an incident in the chippy in Norton Street last evening.’
‘Oh bloody hell!’ The tea caddy slipped from her fingers, but she managed to prevent it landing on the floor and placed it on the table. ‘I was going to tell him when I saw him, but I haven’t had a chance to do so yet.’
‘So you don’t deny being there,’ said Sam, scowling.
‘What would be the point if you already know? Who was it who gave my name to the police?’
‘It was a friend of yours, Peggy McGrath.’
‘Peggy!’ Jeanette was stunned. ‘Is she all right? Only she was dragged away by the fellow she’d been going out with. He said that he had a bone to pick with her. I suspect her brother beat him up because of something she had said about Greg.’
Sam rolled his eyes. ‘Some old dear had suggested that he and Peggy McGrath might be able to help the police with their enquiries.’
‘Blast and double blast,’ muttered Jeanette. ‘I bet she hates me now because a policeman turned up on her doorstep! I should have minded my own business, instead of thinking I had to stick up for her because she was my friend.’
‘At least she won’t have to go to court because she didn’t witness the fight. But you might,’ warned Sam.
Jeanette groaned. ‘Does the old witch know about this?’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘What do you think?’
Jeanette stared at him gloomily. ‘Where are she and Dad now?’
‘She mentioned having shopping to do, whilst he went off to see if he could find you.’
‘Couldn’t he have just waited until I came home?’
‘Perhaps he thought you mightn’t come home? You’re forgetting you went out without saying where you were going and you must have known you were in trouble.’
