by Katie Flynn
‘I won’t; I’m not such a fool. I’ve got to get fit so I can keep an eye on Edie,’ Albert said. ‘Good night, Sister, and thank you for everything.’
The trio pushed their way through the revolving doors to find that a light drizzle had begun to fall. Hospital visiting must have just come to an end, for as they hesitated on the pavement people began to stream out of the hospital and a long queue formed at the nearest tram stop. Tess and Jonty were still clutching their baggage and Tess would have been glad to have hailed a taxi, but the majority of the visitors were waiting for trams or buses and there was no sign of a taxi rank, so she supposed they must do likewise. When she suggested it, however, her companions disagreed. ‘Judging by the length of the queue it’ll be hours before you can get on the tram or bus you want, and then we’ll be downright unpopular because of all our luggage,’ Jonty pointed out. ‘Is it too far to walk?’ He grinned at Albert. ‘A couple of hours away from Bell Farm and she’s forgotten how to use her legs! Come on, Mr Payne, you take her left arm and I’ll take her right and we’ll get her moving between us.’
Tess laughed, assuring her old friend that no help would be needed, and very soon they were at the tobacconist’s shop and Albert Payne was unlocking the door, leading them up the stairs and ushering them into his neat little flat. Once in the kitchen he put the kettle on the stove and asked Tess to make tea whilst he showed Jonty the room which he would occupy whilst he was in Liverpool.
‘My flat and that of Mrs Williams are very similar,’ he told the young man. ‘I’ve planned for a long time to turn my spare bedroom into a proper bathroom, but I’ve never actually got round to doing it.’ He pulled a face. ‘I’m afraid I’m a great one for putting off making decisions. In fact, this horrible accident has already taught me a much-needed lesson. Mrs Williams and I have been talking about starting an ice cream parlour somewhere in this area, but we’ve never actually got round to doing anything about it. But now I can see that one never knows what life has in store, and in future carpe diem shall be my motto.’ He smiled at his young companion. ‘You’ll find the bed is already made up, for though I had no idea that you were coming back with Tess I had an intuitive feeling that someone might need my spare room and rushed home this morning to get it ready. There’s a clean towel on the rail and soap and a flannel by the basin, but the water in the ewer will be cold, I’m afraid.’
Jonty looked at his hands, then at his reflection in the small round mirror on top of the chest of drawers. ‘I’d like a wash, and I don’t mind the water being cold,’ he said. ‘I really do appreciate your kindness, Mr Payne.’
‘It’s a pleasure,’ Albert said formally. ‘I’ll leave you now, but the tea will be brewed in ten minutes and I dare say you could do with a bite to eat. I’m sure young Tess would pop down to the bakery and buy a cake . . .’
Jonty laughed. ‘No need,’ he said cheerfully. ‘My mother packed a basket with all sorts of things, amongst which was a very large fruit cake. I dare say that will stave off hunger pangs until bedtime.’
It was two days before Tess decided to allow Jonty to meet her grandmother, for Edie Williams was languid, apt to fall asleep in mid-sentence and, to put it mildly, not looking her best. But on the third day one of the nurses approached her patient with a bundle under her arm which she spread out on Edie’s bed. It proved to be a very pretty bedjacket in pale pink wool with lavender-coloured ribbons, a gift from Miss Foulks, who had owned the milliner’s shop. The nurse smiled encouragingly as her patient exclaimed with pleasure, and flourished a hairbrush. ‘I’m going to make you beautiful, Mrs Williams,’ she announced. ‘Your granddaughter wants to bring her young man to visit you today, so you really must look your best.’
‘Oh, but nurse, I wanted to wait until the bruising round my right eye had gone—’ Edie began, only to be swiftly interrupted.
‘Now no nonsense please, Mrs Williams; the young man has come all the way from Norfolk, leaving his parents to do all the work on their farm in his absence, so naturally, now you’re so much better, he is planning to go back home. He may stay on a day or two, but your granddaughter wants the pair of you to meet as soon as possible, so if you will kindly sit up straight I’ll start to brush your hair out.’ She suited action to words, tutting disapproval as the brush caught in the older woman’s thick white locks. ‘Goodness, what a lot of tangles, but what beautiful hair you have, Mrs Williams.’
She worked away with a will and presently handed her patient a mirror. ‘There! See what a difference I’ve made! Now slip on the bedjacket and when the visitors begin to arrive they’ll be bowled over. Indeed, if you let a couple of locks of your beautiful hair fall across your black eye you’ll be the belle of the ward.’
Edie Williams looked in the mirror and gave a little purr of satisfaction. The nurse had done her work well, and Edie found herself looking forward to meeting Jonty instead of dreading that he would think her a hideous old hag. She just hoped that Albert would accompany the youngsters and be equally impressed by the transformation.
Jonty descended the stairs and came out into the stockroom of the tobacconist’s shop. Tess had rearranged her interview for the job of nursery assistant at a factory way out in the suburbs, but when he had suggested accompanying her she had been, not exactly brusque, but perhaps a little sharp. ‘There’s no point in the pair of us trailing out there, and there’ll be nothing for you to do because it’s just factories and houses, no shops or anything,’ she had said. ‘You’ve been awfully good about helping Albert, so why not spend today exploring Liverpool? There’s all sorts, you know. There’s the Picton Library, the Walker Art Gallery, the museum . . . oh, no end of things to see. You’ll want to go to Paddy’s Market because it’s easily the cheapest place to pick up little presents. And for my part I’d rather think of you enjoying yourself than trying to hurry the interview so I can get back to you.’
This conversation had taken place in Albert’s kitchen and Jonty had seen Albert giving Tess a quizzical look, though he had said nothing. But Tess had been staring at him, so Jonty had said, ‘All right, all right, I know when I’m not wanted. You go off, love of my life, and I’ll take a look at this Liverpool of yours.’
For a moment Tess had looked stricken and, seeing that look, Jonty had hastened to reassure her. ‘It’s all right, you daft girl, I was only teasing. And you’re right, of course; I really ought to take a good look at Liverpool before I go home. Dare I suggest we meet for a bite of lunch at Lyons Corner House? We could say we’ll meet at one o’clock, but if you’re still engaged I’ll have a bowl of soup and a crusty roll, and that’ll see me right till suppertime.’
Tess had agreed to this. She had popped into the tobacconist’s at nine and come up to the flat so that Jonty might see her interview suit, which was a grey coat and skirt, a navy blue shirt and matching shoes. Jonty had approved – he had been eating his breakfast at the time – and Tess had smiled gratefully and patted his cheek. ‘Thanks, chuck; wish me luck,’ she had cried, and had then broken down in giggles. ‘I’m a poet and didn’t know it,’ she announced, heading for the kitchen door. ‘See you at one o’clock, unless I’m held up.’
Now Jonty crossed the stockroom and joined Albert behind the counter. ‘I’m off on a voyage of exploration,’ he said merrily. ‘It would be too bad to go back to Bell Farm without having seen anything of Liverpool. Tess has told me I must visit the Picton Library and some art gallery or other . . .’
Albert pulled a face. ‘Dull work,’ he exclaimed. ‘What you want to do, Jonty, is to take a ride on the overhead railway. Now that’s something you won’t see in any other city in Britain, I can guarantee it. What’s more, it’s the only way of getting to see all the shipping in the docks. There are really big liners, and tankers . . . oh, all sorts.’ He sighed. ‘Wish I could come with you and show you around, because though there’s still the devil of a lot of bomb damage which hasn’t been put right, I’m proud of my city.’
‘Norwich is just
the same; a lot of the bomb sites have become wild gardens, they tell me,’ Jonty said. ‘Well, I’ve seen for myself how rosebay, willowherb and meadowsweet have flourished in the heart of the city, so don’t think I’ll judge Liverpool harshly because they’ve not managed to rebuild completely yet. Any more hints? Only if I meet madam at one o’clock and can’t reel off a list of the attractions I’ve visited she’ll give me a rare old telling off.’
Albert grinned. ‘I’d put money on the fact that Tess has never set foot in the Picton Library or the Walker Art Gallery,’ he said. ‘You know how it is, Jonty; Parisians have never climbed the Eiffel Tower, Londoners look blank if you ask them about Westminster Abbey, and we’re just the same. If you can find me one Scouser who’s been inside Liverpool Cathedral I shall be astounded.’
‘I think I’d better buy a street map, because I bet the cathedral is nowhere near the overhead railway,’ Jonty said resignedly. ‘I expect it’s a huge cathedral, so I suppose I really ought to take a look. Is it very old?’
To his surprise Albert put a finger to his nose and winked. ‘That would be telling,’ he said mysteriously. ‘And now off with you, young Mr Bell, or you’ll never see any of the sights. By the way, I trust you were impressed upon meeting Tess’s gran? She’s a wonderful woman and Tess is a lucky girl!’
Jonty smiled. He had thought Tess’s gran very pretty, very young-looking and very charming, and now he said so, and was rewarded by the delight on his companion’s face.
‘Yes, she’s a grand lady,’ Albert said, just as a customer pushed open the shop door. He raised his voice. ‘Thank you, Mr Bell. See you this evening.’
Jonty emerged on to the pavement and looked around. It was all very well for Tess to reel off a list of attractions, but he had no desire to spend the morning searching for something to look at. He decided to go first to Paddy’s Market on the Scotland Road, though the only present he intended to buy was a small gift for his mother; his father and the farmhands would get cigarettes from Albert’s emporium – a packet of twenty Players for his father and packets of ten Woodbines for the farmhands – and in the meantime he would ask a passer-by how to reach the overhead railway. But of course since it ran alongside the docks he must go towards the Mersey. Halfway down the long road which led towards the river Jonty saw a figure heading in the same direction and, speeding up, touched the other’s arm. ‘Excuse me . . .’ he began, and then frowned into the face of the young man he had stopped. ‘Haven’t I seen you somewhere before? I was just about to ask you how I could get on to the overhead railway . . . I’m sure we’ve met before, though I can’t imagine . . .’
The other interrupted, grinning. ‘You’re Tess Williams’s bucolic friend,’ he said. ‘A few days ago I gave up my place in the taxi queue to the pair of you. How’s her gran? She’s a nice old bird, and I know Tess is real fond of her. But what are you doing out alone?’ He grinned suddenly, a flash of white teeth in an admittedly handsome face. ‘I’ve seen you and Tess on Heyworth Street a couple of times, but here you are, all by yourself.’ He grinned again, somewhat maliciously. ‘Does this mean that Tess has got a job to help finance her schooling?’
‘No, not exactly. She’s gone for an interview, though,’ Jonty said, rather stiffly. He had suddenly remembered Tess saying that she and this boy – what was his name? – had fallen out. Perhaps he should apologise and find out for himself how to get aboard the overhead railway, but before he could do so the other had shot out a hand to take Jonty’s, his smile now of genuine friendship.
‘I’m Desmond White, better known as Snowy. And you are . . .?’
‘I’m Jonathan Bell. Tess was evacuated to my parents’ farm during the war.’
‘Jonathan Bell? I don’t know why, but I thought . . . Jonty! Of course, you’re her friend Jonty; she often used to talk about you,’ Snowy said easily. ‘But look, I’m going on the overhead railway myself, so all you need do is follow me.’
Chapter Eight
RATHER TO HIS surprise Jonty had an enjoyable and instructive morning. Snowy had said that he knew the city like the back of his hand and he soon proved that this was true. The two boys whizzed from one place to the next, leaving the Anglican cathedral until last, since it was a standing joke amongst local people. It had been started nearly fifty years ago and was still unfinished. ‘Of course, there was bomb damage in the May blitz,’ Snowy told his companion. ‘But you know what they say about Scousers: they’ll argue about the number of angels who can dance on a pinhead just for the pleasure of disagreeing, and the cathedral’s a case in point. I reckon Albert told you to go there as a joke, so we won’t bother with that but go straight on to the school where I’m just finishing and Tess will be starting in the sixth form in September, since I know she got her School Cert and will be heading for her Higher.’ The two boys had been walking towards the art gallery but suddenly, as though struck by his own words, Snowy halted and put out a hand to get his companion to stop too. ‘I say, if her gran can’t work for weeks, what’ll Tess do about that? Will she be able to stay on at school?’
‘I’ve no idea; she doesn’t talk much about her academic hopes because she knows I was never any good at schoolwork, though I did manage to get my School Cert,’ Jonty told his companion. ‘But why should her gran’s accident stop Tess from getting her Higher? I don’t understand.’
Snowy snorted. ‘It’s pretty plain you’re one of the landed gentry who don’t need to struggle,’ he said rather contemptuously. ‘Don’t you know that Tess delivers newspapers, sells fruit on a stall in St John’s market, acts as a part-time waitress at weekends, and anything else which will pay her enough money to help her gran out? Surely you, a close friend, must have been told such things?’
Once more Jonty stiffened, about to tell Snowy that of course he understood, but then he realised that this was not strictly true. Tess had told him all right, but he had not yet seen for himself how hard it was for people who could not grow their own food, keep a few poultry, or have a share in a pig, so the glance that he turned on Snowy was apologetic. ‘I’m afraid you’re right about one thing: until I came here and saw the queues for anything off ration, and the tiny amounts of food you get in exchange for your coupons, I couldn’t understand why Tess had to work . . . well, I suppose I thought it was for pocket money. But we Bells aren’t landed gentry, honest to God we’re not; we farm our land and we work bloody hard. In summer we do a twelve- or fourteen-hour day, longer when beasts are giving birth, or we’re getting the harvest in, and the rewards aren’t all that brilliant either. Incidentally, what do you do? You’ve been quick enough to criticise me and my family but you’ve not said a word about your own.’
They had stopped walking during this exchange, but now they started again, Snowy having changed his mind and headed instead for Paddy’s Market. He raised his brows. ‘Me? What do I matter? But I have to admit I’m one of the lucky ones. Both my parents are teachers; Dad’s a headmaster and Mother runs the English department in his school. So I don’t have to deliver newspapers or help out in a corner shop in order to go to university.’
‘Lucky old you,’ Jonty said, but he didn’t mean it; the mere thought of having a teacher in his own house was frightening. Expectations from such parents would be high, but thinking it over, as Snowy ushered him into the market, Jonty realised that he would not exchange his life on Bell Farm for anything at all. The long hours and the small rewards were worth it when you considered the freedom one enjoyed. Oh, Snowy – and Tess too for that matter – might be able to visit museums and art galleries; they might have their choice of several different pictures at the cinema whereas, by and large, Jonty only had whatever Mr Lyons’s mobile picture house provided. Snowy and Tess could go round the shops and see all sorts of different goods, even if Tess, at least, was unable to buy very much. She had told him how she and her friend Lucy sometimes caught the ferry to Woodside to enjoy a whiff of country air and a walk through woods and fields. But this was an expedition whic
h had to be planned for days in advance. The girls had to save up to buy their passage on the ferry, and the picnic – which they called a carryout – would be pretty boring when compared with the sort of thing Jonty’s mother would have provided. I can stroll along the lane and pick a handful of ripe blackberries, or help myself to wild apples or hazelnuts, Jonty told himself with deep content. A city is all very well for city folk, but it wouldn’t do for me. He glanced at his companion, who was rifling through the second-hand clothing on one of the stalls, and grinned to himself. Snowy might think him an ignorant country boy but he knew the meaning of the word bucolic, knew Snowy had not meant it kindly. But what did it matter, after all? Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me, Jonty quoted to himself. But I wonder why Snowy had that dig at me? Could it be that he’s jealous because I’ve known Tess longer than he has? Well, it’s not important, because I’ll be going home in a couple of days and the next time I see Tess it’ll be on the farm, in the country we both love, and Tess will have left Snowy and the city behind her. I just hope she’ll get this Higher Certificate and then come down from the clouds, because what’s the use of a university education for a farmer’s wife?
He was so startled by his own thoughts that he exclaimed aloud, causing Snowy to swing round, several very pretty chiffon scarves draped across his arm. ‘Would your mam like one of these?’ he said, indicating the scarves. ‘Or doesn’t she go in for stuff like this? It’s summer so you won’t see much winter stuff about, but if I were buying for my mother I’d choose this pink one, because it’s her favourite colour.’
‘My mother likes blue,’ Jonty said. ‘But I tell you what, Snowy, is there a stall selling slippers? My mother’s had her present pair for years; I reckon she’d be delighted to have a bit of a change.’