by June Francis
‘Of course,’ Jeanette said blithely. ‘Sunday afternoon. We’ve a date then.’
‘I suppose this means I’ll be seeing less of you,’ said Peggy gloomily.
‘Don’t be daft! He’s a sailor, so his job isn’t nine to five and home every night.’ Jeanette thought that the weekend could not come quickly enough for her. She would not mention him to the family yet. She would hug the knowledge of their meeting to herself and tell them about him when she was good and ready.
‘So what are you so happy about?’ asked Ethel on Friday evening.
Jeanette stopped mid-note of the fourth line of ‘Some Enchanted Evening’ and took her hands out of the dishwater. ‘It’s the weekend. I know that makes no difference to you, Aunt Ethel, because you don’t go out to work. Most days must feel the same to you – but for me the weekend is special.’
‘Hah!’ exclaimed Ethel, scowling. ‘Where d’you think you’ll be going when last Friday you blotted your copybook?’
Despite her great-aunt having been in bed when Jeanette had arrived home with Sam a week ago, she had been told some of what had taken place that evening. Jeanette decided she needed a good excuse to leave the house alone on Sunday. ‘I thought I would go to church again,’ she said casually. ‘Confess my sins and ask for forgiveness and all that. You should try it sometime.’
Ethel made to cuff her across the head but she ducked. ‘Don’t you be giving me cheek, girl! You’re not too old to have your bottom smacked.’
‘I blooming am,’ said Jeanette, flicking dishwater in Ethel’s direction. ‘I’m not one of your former prisoners, you know. And don’t you forget what Dad said about putting you in a home. You need to make sure that you don’t blot your copybook. I’ll be eighteen in less than a month. If you didn’t take most of my money, I could move out and get a bedsit.’
Uncertainty flickered across Ethel’s wrinkled face. ‘George wouldn’t put me in a home and he wouldn’t allow you to leave home at your age.’
‘We’ll see about that when the time comes,’ said Jeanette, thinking that there was just one more full day before her date with David Bryn Jones, and tomorrow should go swiftly what with working at the milk bar. She had thought her father might forbid her to go, but so far he had said nothing about it. Perhaps he had decided that as Billy had no idea where she lived he was worrying unduly about her safety.
The following day Jeanette was waiting-on at the milk bar when a policeman and policewoman entered.
‘Now what do they want?’ muttered Mrs Cross, glancing across at the navy-blue uniformed figures.
‘It’s my dad and half-sister,’ Jeanette whispered. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Cross. They must have a message for me.’
‘Well, get them out of here as quickly as you can. They’re not good for trade.’
George came over to the counter and nodded at the woman. ‘Morning! Nothing for you to worry about, missus. We just popped in to see my daughter and whilst we’re here we’ll have two cups of tea and two toasted teacakes.’
‘You heard your father, Jeanette,’ said Mrs Cross, pinning on a smile. ‘Let him have them on the house.’
‘That’s generous of you, missus,’ said George. ‘But I always pay my way.’
‘Well, that’s up to you, Sergeant. I’ll leave you to it.’ She hurried into the back.
‘What are you both here for, Dad?’ asked Jeanette, cutting teacakes in half.
He did not answer immediately because he was looking about him. ‘Nice little caff,’ he said.
She nodded. ‘We don’t get any trouble here.’
‘I’m glad to hear that.’ He patted her arm. ‘I’ll go and sit down by the window with Hester and you can bring the order over.’
‘OK.’ She watched him warily as he sat down next to Hester at one of the tables usually occupied by Maggie, Irene and their friends and she wondered if any of them would come in today.
Just as Jeanette was ready to carry the order over the door opened and Maggie entered with a man and woman. She came over to the counter whilst the couple made for one of the vacant tables by the window.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Three cups of tea and three buttered scones, two with jam when you’ve got a moment.’
‘OK. Any of the others dropping by today?’
Maggie rested her arms on the counter and smiled. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen the twins since last Saturday and Irene wasn’t sure what she was doing today. I’ve come to see you and brought along my brother and his wife Emma, the one your half-sister knows. She wants to speak to you.’
‘Blinking heck!’ Jeanette’s face lit up. ‘You’re not going to believe this but Hester’s here now with my dad. That’s them over there. I’m just about to take them their order.’
‘That policeman is your father?’ exclaimed Maggie.
‘Yes, what’s wrong with that?’ asked Jeanette sharply.
‘Nothing!’ cried Maggie. ‘He’s a fine figure of a man. You’re lucky, having a dad. I lost mine to a wasting disease a few years back. Then I lost my mum last year.’
‘I am sorry. You go on ahead and I’ll follow you over.’
Jeanette picked up the tray, thinking to make some introductions as soon as she reached the table, but she had not counted on an excitable Maggie saying, ‘You’re not going to believe this, Emma, but you’re sitting right next to Hester Walker!’
Both Emma and Hester swivelled round at the sound of their names and stared at each other. ‘I don’t believe it,’ said Hester, a smile breaking over her face.
‘Me neither,’ said Emma, ‘although I came here specifically to see if I could get in touch with you. Fancy you being a policewoman!’
‘I believe you’re married,’ said Hester.
‘That’s right,’ said Emma, beaming at her. ‘This is my husband, Jared.’ She touched his shoulder. ‘And we’re having a baby. It was confirmed yesterday.’
‘I couldn’t be more pleased for you,’ said Hester.
‘We’re delighted.’ Emma placed her hand over that of her husband.
‘It does mean, though, that there’s decisions to be made,’ he said, squeezing her fingers gently.
Her smile faded. ‘They’d be easier to make if Betty wasn’t going to Italy next year. I really don’t want to get rid of the cottage and cut my ties with Whalley, but I need someone I can rely on to help me out next summer by living there and running the tearoom.’
All this time Jeanette had been placing George and Hester’s order on the table in front of them, whilst her father had sat in silence, a smile on his face, listening to the conversation. She thought it was time she said something.
‘Hester, don’t you think you should introduce Dad?’
Hester glanced up at her and instantly she introduced not only her father but also Jeanette to Emma and Jared. That done, Jeanette got on with the task of carrying out Maggie’s order. Later, when she carried it over, Hester and Emma were talking earnestly about someone called Lila who apparently had married a policeman called Dougie Marshall who lived in Bootle. As she emptied the contents of the tray onto the table, she caught Maggie’s eye who mouthed ‘He’s the twins’ brother!’, and she remembered what Betty had told her that evening at the Grafton. Thinking of the twins reminded her of Peggy and their conversation down at the landing stage, and of her own meeting with David Jones. She felt a surge of happiness. She could not wait to see him again.
Nineteen
By the time Jeanette reached the Titanic Memorial, the wind had got up and it was drizzling. She thought how when you lived by the sea, the weather was always changeable. She had put on her best frock and cardie and had hoped for sunshine, but had her mac and umbrella as well, so she felt a bit like Debbie Reynolds in Singin’ in the Rain. She certainly had a glorious feeling inside her. To her relief, David was waiting for her, and as soon as he spotted her he came hurrying over. He looked as pleased to see her as she was to see him.
‘I’m glad the weather didn’t put yo
u off,’ he said, taking her hand.
Her green eyes sparkled. ‘What weather?’
His smile deepened and he placed her hand in the crook of his arm. ‘Let’s not hang around here or you’ll get soaked.’
‘I feel like pinching myself. I can scarcely believe you’re here at last.’ She did not feel a bit shy of him, but was so excited that she was trembling all over. ‘Wh . . . where shall we go? I wish it could be somewhere—’
‘Different?’
‘Somewhere the sun is shining. It would be great if we could take a liner and sail off to a beautiful beach with warm seas,’ said Jeanette.
‘You’re a dreamer,’ said David, a hint of laughter in his voice.
‘We all need our dreams,’ she said firmly. ‘More often than not, I have to be practical.’
‘There are some good beaches on the Isle of Man, but I can’t promise you everlasting warm waters and dawn to dusk sunshine if you were ever to sail with us,’ he warned.
‘How long have you been working for the Isle of Man Steam Packet Company?’
‘I only joined them recently. Before then I worked on the banana boats and sailed to the Canaries and to the Caribbean.’
‘Now those places sound more like it.’ She sighed happily, conscious of their bodies brushing as they walked. ‘What on earth made you change companies?’
‘My father’s death and the need to resettle my mother somewhere more affordable.’ He paused as they came to James Street. ‘So where do we go?’
The wind blew Jeanette’s skirt against her legs and was that strong she clung to his arm. ‘If it weren’t that we’ve a lot of catching up to do, I’d have suggested going to the flicks where it would be warm and comfortable,’ she gasped.
‘Another time. Shall we go for a drink?’ he suggested.
‘I don’t drink,’ she said frankly, remembering saying those very words to Marty. ‘At least not until the twenty-first of December when I’ll be eighteen. That’s not to say we can’t go into a pub if you feel like a pint. Are you hungry as well?’
‘Do you know, during the war there were girls of fourteen who pretended they were over eighteen so they could go in pubs and mix with the Yanks.’ He gazed down at her, a smile in his eyes. ‘I’m glad there’s no such pretence where you’re concerned. I’m twenty-five. I presume you’ve had Sunday lunch?’
She nodded. ‘Have you?’
‘Yes. We’ll have the fish and chips I promised another time. Let’s find a cafe and have a pot of tea and cakes.’
‘That sounds good.’
They walked up James Street without speaking, but kept glancing at each other and smiling. When they reached Castle Street, they turned right and hurried along the wet pavement until they came to a Kardomah. It was not until they were settled at a table in the warm, steamy atmosphere and had placed their order that he said, ‘You first. Tell me all about yourself.’
‘There’s not much to tell,’ she said hastily. ‘I’d rather hear about you.’
He shook his head. ‘Your life can’t be that dull. Not after the way we met.’
‘All right! You know my name is Jeanette Walker. I live with my father, George, my great-aunt Ethel, half-brother Sam, and half-sister Hester.’
‘And your mother?’
Jeanette blew out her cheeks and then let out a breath. ‘She walked out during the blitz and never came back. I’ve just put a notice in the Echo in the hope that I’ll discover whether she’s alive or dead. My great-aunt insists that she went off with a fancy man, leaving a note which she was so angry about that she destroyed.’
‘You poor kid! It must drive you crazy at times, not knowing one way or the other.’
She nodded. ‘My great-aunt is an old faggot! I don’t believe her about the note. I’m just hoping that my piece in the Echo will trigger someone’s memory – and as well as that I’ve Father Callaghan on the case.’ She paused. ‘What about your family?’
‘No, you can’t just leave your story like that. How does the Padre come into this?’
‘He was here during the war and helped give the last rites to the dying. He knew a lot of those who helped dig people out.’ She sighed.
‘Tough,’ said David, frowning. ‘We’ll change the subject.’ He rested his arms on the table and leaned towards her. ‘What do you do for a job?’
‘I work in a shipping warehouse office in the Cunard Building. It was just pure chance that I went down to the landing stage and you spotted me.’
‘I would have found you sooner or later. You were often on my mind, but I had to sort Mam out first and I knew I had that contact with the Padre.’
‘Honestly, I understand why us meeting again has taken so long,’ she said, placing her hand on his.
He caught hold of her fingers. ‘Thanks. After Dad died, we came to the decision that it would be best for Mam to leave the house on the Wirral, and you know the rest. She now lives with her sister on the outskirts of the city.’
Her eyes lit up. ‘So . . . so does that mean your home is in Liverpool, too, now?’
‘We-ell, I have somewhere to kip when the ship docks, and it means I can keep my eye on the two women. Mam was forty when she had me, so she’s no spring chicken. There’s times when they need a man’s help.’ He toyed with her fingers. ‘It also means that you and I—’ He broke off as the waitress arrived with their tea and cakes.
Both withdrew their hands and watched the waitress place their order on the table. As soon as she left, Jeanette picked up the teapot and filled their cups, hoping he would continue with what he was saying. When he did not pick up the thread of the conversation she was disappointed, thinking that perhaps he’d had second thoughts. She so wanted something to come from this date with him.
Suddenly she realized that there was something important that she had not told him. ‘You won’t have forgotten Billy who hit you in the face.’
‘Of course not.’ David’s expression was grim as he spooned sugar into his tea.
‘Well, his father fell into a dock and drowned. His mother said that she needed him, so they let him out of Borstal to attend the funeral.’
He stilled and then offered the plate of cakes to Jeanette. ‘Pretty much like my mother needed me, one might say.’ His voice was expressionless, but she sensed the anger in him.
‘There’s more,’ she said, taking a chocolate éclair whilst she thought about what to tell him. The last thing she wanted to admit to was going to the Stadium with another man and seeing Billy there, but she could not see how she could get round it.
He stared at her. ‘Go on.’
She bit into the chocolate éclair. ‘These are lovely.’
He looked only faintly amused as he stretched forward and wiped cream from the tip of her nose. ‘What’s he done now? I guess he’s done something wrong if you’ve brought him up.’
She ate the whole éclair and wiped her fingers on a napkin before saying, ‘He attacked me and then he stabbed a man.’
David paled and shot out a hand and gripped her arm. ‘When did this happen? Were you hurt?’
‘It happened only the other week. I was shocked and frightened more than anything. I’ve a few bruises but I managed to get away when the doorman intervened. I didn’t realize Billy had a knife. Fortunately the doorman survived. Now Billy’s on the run and the police are looking for him. A friend did suggest that he might have caught the Irish boat and be hiding out there.’
‘You don’t think the police would have put a watch on the Irish ferry terminals here in Liverpool? Because if he was really crafty, he’d have made for Holyhead and taken the ferry to Ireland from there. Or travelled to Heysham up Lancashire and taken the ferry to Douglas and from there to Ireland.’
Jeanette’s eyes widened. ‘I never thought of that.’
‘You wouldn’t, and neither would I most likely if I didn’t now work on the Isle of Man boats. We go back and forth to Ireland as well.’
‘My dad and brother want to g
et their hands on him.’
He nodded. ‘You’re not short of protectors. I know I wouldn’t mind having a go at him.’
‘I did manage to kick him in the shins,’ said Jeanette almost casually.
‘Good for you.’ He looked amused as he reached for the teapot. ‘D’you want a top-up?’
She nodded and decided to change the subject. ‘This will make you laugh. My great-aunt thinks my mother, who apparently was fostered or adopted and ran away from home, was the daughter of a lady suffragette who gave birth in prison. She died not so long ago and according to my great-aunt she was rich. I’m supposed to prove I’m her illegitimate granddaughter so as to claim my inheritance.’
As soon as David grinned, Jeanette knew that she had managed to steer him away from the subject of Billy. ‘I can dream!’ she cried. ‘I want to leave home but have no money to speak of, and a luxury apartment would be great.’
‘A house even better,’ he said.
She agreed and reached for another cake, and so did David. Their hands touched and she felt a frisson of pleasure. ‘Your choice first,’ she said, blushing.
‘Ladies first.’
She took a cream horn and he chose a cream cookie.
‘What does your dad think of your leaving home?’
‘I haven’t mentioned it to him. He still thinks of me as his little girl and would like me to stay at home a while longer.’
‘Doesn’t see you getting married soon then?’ asked David, his eyes intent on her face as he bit into the cream cookie and jam and cream squished out.
She did not get to answer his question but giggled. ‘Oh, lor – you want to see your face!’ She reached into a pocket and withdrew a hanky which she handed to him. ‘You’ve cream and jam on your chin and nose!’
David took the hanky and to her surprise leaned forward and wiped her mouth. ‘I’m not the only one making a mess.’
His touch caused her skin to tingle and she thought, I must be in love with him, the effect he’s having on me. She murmured a word of thanks.
