Memories Are Made of This

by June Francis

  ‘Can I—’ He paused and stared hard at her from pale blue eyes. ‘I’ve seen you before. Aren’t you our Peggy’s mate from work who got her into trouble?’

  ‘I didn’t get her into trouble,’ retorted Jeanette indignantly, remembering catching sight of him the evening Peggy had damaged her foot at the Grafton. ‘It was that mate of the bloke she was going out with that caused the trouble. Anyway, that’s water under the bridge now.’

  ‘Let’s hope so. What can I do for you?’

  ‘I want you to give Peggy a message.’

  He rested an elbow on the counter, placed his chin in his hand and smiled. ‘What kind of message, kid?’

  ‘I want her to meet me outside Reece’s at seven o’clock this evening.’

  His expression sharpened. ‘Why? Where are you going?’

  She sighed. ‘It’s really none of your business.’

  ‘Are you meeting fellas and going to the dance there?’

  ‘No!’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t know if I believe you.’

  ‘I’m telling you the truth. We’ll probably just go to the pictures. I’m not saying I wouldn’t prefer going out dancing with a couple of fellas,’ she mused, ‘but there you are, Robert Taylor and Tony Curtis can’t make it tonight.’

  He smiled unexpectedly as he straightened up. ‘I can see why you were at the centre of a fight. You have spunk. Are you doing anything next Friday night?’

  ‘What!’ Jeanette could not believe her ears. ‘Are you asking me out?’

  ‘What’s wrong with that? Think you’re too good for me?’

  ‘No, but I’m a Proddy, you know.’

  ‘So? I’m not planning on marrying you. My ma would have a fit if I brought a Protestant girl home.’

  ‘Good.’ She hesitated. ‘I’d rather not go out with you, thank you.’

  ‘Then I won’t pass on your message to our Peggy.’

  She gasped. ‘But that’s blackmail.’

  ‘Not really. It’s just an exchange of favours. I’ve a couple of tickets for the Stadium to see the wrestling, but me and my girlfriend have had a row and now she’s sent me a message saying she’s going with someone else.’

  Jeanette’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You take your girl to the wrestling?’

  ‘Why not? She loves it.’

  ‘But surely it’s all men shouting and swearing at two blokes knocking the hell out of each other?’

  He grinned. ‘It’s true there is some of that, but quite a few women attend. They really enjoy it and call the wrestlers names I wouldn’t repeat in front of me ma. Still, you can always close your ears.’

  ‘I didn’t say I was going.’

  ‘No, but give it a try. It’ll be a new experience for you,’ he said coaxingly. ‘Besides, I’d like Bernie to see me with a pretty girl on me arm.’

  Jeanette could not help but be flattered and amused. ‘Do you really think I’m pretty enough to make her jealous?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true, but you’re in no danger of me making a pass at you. I told you, Ma wouldn’t like it.’

  Jeanette chuckled. ‘Is that a promise?’

  ‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’ He sketched a cross on his chest.

  ‘Who’s wrestling?’

  He looked taken aback. ‘You wouldn’t know if I told you and I don’t want to put you off.’

  ‘Dirty Jack Pye?’ she asked.

  His blond eyebrows shot up. ‘I’m impressed, kid.’

  ‘I saw his name in the Echo.’

  ‘Rightio. I’ll meet you outside Exchange Station at six o’clock on Friday.’

  She tapped her fingers on the counter. ‘That means I’ll have to come straight from work. I’m going to be hungry.’

  ‘So will I. I’ll take you for a bite to eat so you won’t starve to death.’ He held her gaze. ‘Now don’t go mentioning it to our Peggy. She’s got a big mouth and I don’t want her telling Bernie it’s a set-up to make her jealous. She likes Bernie.’

  ‘OK.’ Jeanette would probably have mentioned it to Peggy if he hadn’t asked her not to. ‘I’ll see you then.’

  He came from behind the counter, opened the door for her with a flourish and bowed her out. She could not help smiling as she hurried along Renshaw Street. It did not bother her in the least that she was only being taken out in order to make another girl jealous. It would be an experience going to the wrestling, and at least Marty had a sense of humour.

  A few hours later Jeanette arrived outside Reece’s in Clayton Square to find Peggy already waiting for her. ‘So no twins,’ she said.

  ‘So your Marty gave you my message,’ said Jeanette.

  ‘Of course, otherwise I wouldn’t be here,’ said Peggy. ‘But I’ve got a message for you.’

  ‘Who from?’ asked Jeanette, slipping her arm through her friend’s.

  ‘Father Callaghan.’

  Jeanette’s stomach began to churn. ‘Is it about my mother?’

  ‘No, it’s about that bloke you fancied from the chippy who got hit with the bicycle chain,’ said Peggy in a rush.

  ‘Oh!’ Jeanette’s heart lifted.

  ‘Is that all you can say – oh!’ said Peggy, pulling a face. ‘Apparently his mother and her sister are going to share an apartment here in Liverpool and should have moved in by Christmas.’

  Jeanette waited for her to say something more and continued to wait with growing impatience. ‘Is that it?’ she asked.

  ‘Sorry, my mind drifted,’ she said mischievously. ‘You were right about David Jones being a seaman.’

  Jeanette’s face lit up. ‘I thought I was. Did Father Callaghan tell you the name of his ship and when it’ll dock next?’

  ‘No, but he said it docks in Liverpool regularly.’

  ‘That could mean a week, a month or every three months or more,’ murmured Jeanette.

  ‘At least you know he’ll be back,’ said Peggy, and changed the subject. ‘So where are we going? The flicks?’

  Jeanette nodded. But for the rest of the evening she had difficulty concentrating on anything other than the thought of David Jones coming to Liverpool. She wished he had written her a note, but maybe he hadn’t had time. She would just have to be patient and wait until she heard from the priest again.

  When she arrived home, she walked in on Sam and Hester having a low-voiced conversation in the kitchen. They stopped as soon as they realized she was there.

  ‘Cocoa, you two?’ she asked. Without waiting for their answer, she set about making a jug of cocoa. ‘You can carry on talking. Interesting conversation, was it?’

  ‘Don’t be nosey,’ said Sam.

  ‘Is it about Dorothy? When’s she coming for dinner?’

  Sam scowled. ‘She’s away a lot.’

  ‘I thought you said she was going to be back in Liverpool this week.’

  ‘She’s been and gone and spent half the time talking to women and about this film she wants to make. I feel as if she’s no time for me. She’s obsessed.’

  ‘Poor Sam,’ said Jeanette sympathetically. ‘We can all get obsessed at times. Some might think I’ve been obsessed by David Jones and finding out what happened to my mam.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say you were that obsessed,’ said Hester. ‘Anyway, I’ve just been telling Sam about the old witch trying to kill you. He reckons we should put her in the cellar for a week on bread and water.’

  ‘Don’t forget the birch,’ said Sam, visibly relaxing. ‘At least ten whacks should finish her off.’

  ‘If only,’ said Jeanette. ‘But that wasn’t what you were talking about earlier, I reckon. Well, you don’t have to tell me.’ She stared at them hopefully but they were not to be drawn, so as soon as she had made the cocoa and a hot-water bottle, she went up to bed.

  Sam and Hester exchanged glances. ‘We should have said that we were going to book the old witch into a cosy cell and throw away the key,’ said Hester, her hands cupped around her mug.

  ‘It c
ould be arranged,’ said Sam, his eyes glinting. ‘We could tell dear old Aunt Ethel that it was for the film Dorothy has in mind to produce and direct.’

  Hester looked surprised. ‘You are joking? How often is a woman given the opportunity to take charge like that?’

  He shrugged. ‘I tell her that, but she gets all tight-lipped and says she’s got to give it a go. Let’s get back to what we were talking about before Jeanette walked in. You’ve got to cancel your date with Cedric.’

  ‘It’s too late! I’ll meet him and explain that I can’t see him again.’ Hester scowled. ‘Fancy him asking our Jeanette to go to the pictures with him. She should have told me at the time.’

  ‘She thought you’d be hurt. It was bloody odd of him, though, wasn’t it?’

  Hester agreed, thinking she couldn’t wait to dump him.

  Tuesday evening was cold and damp and Hester was feeling far more nervous than she liked to admit as she stood waiting for Cedric to arrive. When she eventually caught sight of him, her heart began to thud but she pinned on a smile as he approached and said, ‘Hello, long time no see!’

  He returned her smile. ‘It does seem a long time, doesn’t it? You look as if you’re bursting with health now, though.’

  ‘I’m as fit as a fiddle,’ said Hester. ‘You?’

  ‘I’m as you see me,’ he said, spreading his arms. ‘A gift to a woman!’

  She thought, he really is extremely handsome, but he sure as hell knows it.

  He dropped his arms and took hold of her hand. ‘How was the wedding? I was sorry I couldn’t make it.’

  She allowed her hand to lie limp within his grasp. ‘Yes, it was a shame you couldn’t be there. It was really enjoyable and the bride looked lovely.’

  ‘Perhaps another time,’ he said smoothly. ‘But weekends aren’t good for me. Mother’s still ailing. Shall we go inside?’

  Liar! thought Hester. She was about to make some excuse as to why she couldn’t go into the cinema with him, but he was pulling her up the steps and before she knew it she was inside the foyer. She was reluctant to make a fuss, surrounded as they were by a bustling crowd. Finishing with him was going to have to wait.

  Once inside the auditorium and settled in their seats, she felt as tense as a coiled spring. When the lights dimmed and the title of the supporting film came up, his arm went about her shoulders and he nuzzled her neck. She stiffened, wanting to shrink from his embrace. She could not help comparing her feelings towards him now with how she felt about Ally.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ he whispered in her ear.

  ‘I want to watch the film. I thought you would, too. It’s an Edgar Lustgarten real-life murder case.’

  His hands, which had begun to wander, stilled, and to her relief he drew away from her. For the rest of the film he kept his distance, although she was aware that several times he glanced her way. She did her utmost to keep her eyes firmly fixed on the screen.

  It was during the interlude when he returned with ice creams for both of them that he mentioned the conference. ‘I don’t know if you’ve seen the poster about the “Psychology of the Murderer”, but I thought you might like to go with me.’

  Hester’s heart began to thud in that uncomfortable fashion again and she thought swiftly. ‘I have, but my brother says that there’s something big coming up and I’ll be needed.’

  Cedric frowned. ‘That’s a shame. I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other better.’

  ‘Work has to come first.’

  ‘Sure,’ he said in clipped tones, ‘although I would have thought it right up your street.’

  ‘It is, although I’m surprised at you considering going away for the weekend – what with your mother to worry about,’ she said, interested to see what answer he would come up with.

  ‘For something special like this conference, I would have arranged for a neighbour to look after her.’

  ‘What a shame you couldn’t have made a similar arrangement and come to my friend’s wedding,’ said Hester sweetly. ‘That was special to me and could have made a lot of difference to how I feel now.’

  He stared at her. ‘Are you criticizing me?’

  ‘I wouldn’t dare,’ she murmured.

  ‘What d’you mean by that?’ he asked sharply.

  She spooned up the last of her ice cream. ‘Some men can’t take criticism.’

  ‘I know what this is about. You’re bloody annoyed with me because I didn’t want to go to your friend’s farting little wedding,’ he said, an ugly expression on his face as he noisily spooned out the melting remains in the cardboard tub.

  His crude remark angered her further and she found herself ignoring the people glancing in their direction. ‘It was a lovely wedding and if you want to know, I met someone there with much better manners than you.’ She stood up. ‘Goodnight, Cedric. I don’t think we’ll be meeting again.’ She picked up her coat from the back of her seat and, smiling down at the woman in the next seat, asked her to excuse her. Without a word, the woman made room for her to ease past.

  ‘Hey, you can’t leave just like that!’ hissed Cedric, grabbing Hester’s arm, his fingers biting into her skin through the fabric of her sleeve. ‘You’ve got some explaining to do.’

  She wrenched herself free. ‘Oh, can’t I? Enjoy the film.’ With her coat bunched under her arm, she squeezed past people until she reached the aisle.

  As she made for the exit, the lights began to dim. She glanced back to where she had been sitting and saw Cedric staring after her. He mouthed something but she could not read his lips. No doubt it was something rude. Once in the foyer, she donned her coat, conscious of a pulse beating in her ears. She had finished with him, thank God! Sam and Jeanette would have been proud of her.

  Sixteen

  Jeanette was trying to imagine Liverpool having clean air as she stood outside the Exchange railway station, muffled up to the eyeballs because it was freezing cold. The weather had been terrible that week, but the smog in London had been so bad that more people than usual had died. All the headlines in the newspapers were about the Government passing a Clean Air Act. But at least Liverpool was fog free.

  Seeing a bobby walking along the pavement towards her immediately reminded her of her father and what he might say if he were to discover that she was planning on attending a wrestling match. He wouldn’t like it one little bit. As for Aunt Ethel, she would act as if her great-niece had committed all of the seven deadly sins. She prayed Marty would not be much longer. The bobby passed her by. If only Marty would hurry up and come!

  ‘Been waiting long?’

  Jeanette almost jumped out of her skin and turned hastily to see her date standing a couple of feet behind her wearing a trilby and overcoat. ‘You frightened the life out of me.’

  ‘I spoke to you twice but you didn’t appear to hear me the first time,’ he said, hunching his shoulders. ‘You were in another world.’

  ‘I was thinking.’ She sighed heavily. ‘It’s blinking cold standing here. The wind from the Mersey comes tearing up, cold enough to freeze your socks off.’

  ‘Stop moaning! We’ll soon get you warm. A nice steamy, smoky pub that sells Scouse pies and mushy peas and a decent pint is what you need,’ said Marty, taking her arm.

  ‘I’m under age,’ said Jeanette, alarmed.

  ‘That’s OK. I won’t force you to drink alcohol. It’s not as if I want to have my wicked way with you.’

  She gasped. ‘Don’t joke! I’ve persuaded myself that you can be trusted.’

  He laughed. ‘You think I’d mess around with my sister’s best friend! Stop worrying, luv. I’ve my eye on another and you’re going to help me get her back.’

  ‘This is daft,’ said Jeanette as they walked in the direction of Old Hall Street. ‘I don’t know why I came. I could have got away with not coming.’

  He stopped and stared at her. ‘We had an agreement and you coming was part of the bargain. What’s there to comp
lain about? You’re not going to have to spend a penny. Grub and entertainment free, so relax and enjoy yourself, kid.’

  She realized he was right and smiled. ‘OK! I have to be home by eleven, though.’

  ‘We’ll leave before all the bouts are over if necessary.’ He pushed back his trilby. ‘Now, food. I’m starving!’

  She was hungry, too, so did not dither when he led her into a pub. But she clung to his arm when she realized she was the focus of more pairs of men’s eyes than she cared for. ‘Don’t be worrying,’ he said. ‘No one’s going to jump on you while I’m here. Now grab a table and sit down while I see to the grub.’ He removed her hand from his arm and left her alone.

  She chose a table over by a window with a view of the entrance and once seated took a folded magazine from her bag and pretended to read it.

  ‘I got you a small lemonade,’ said Marty, placing a glass in front of her.

  ‘Thanks.’ She glanced at him over the magazine and reached for the glass of lemonade. ‘So tell me about this Bernie you’re going out with.’

  ‘She’s a cracker, but has a temper. I have a temper, too, but have better control of it, thanks to me dad. She’s the youngest of ten and spoilt rotten. But I’ll tame her once we’re married.’

  ‘Tame her? Haven’t you ever heard that women are equal to men? We fought for the vote!’

  He gave a cheeky grin. ‘Just teasing. All you need to do is behave as if I’m the best thing since sliced bread,’ said Marty, taking a mouthful of ale.

  ‘I don’t like sliced bread. I like the crusty kind from the bakery that you can cut nice and thick.’

  ‘OK, I’m a crusty slice of bakery bread and you want to take a bite out of me,’ said Marty.

  Jeanette giggled. ‘I’m that hungry I would take a bite out of you if you were a loaf.’

  Marty grinned. ‘Well, the food won’t be long coming, so control yourself, girl.’

  He was right. Within minutes their meal arrived and soon they were tucking into a plate of Scouse pie and mushy peas. She thought food had never tasted so good and it was soon gone.

  ‘I enjoyed that,’ she said, wiping her fingers with her handkerchief. ‘Do we go now?’