by Rosie Harris
‘Well, no. I wasn’t sure what had to be done. I didn’t like to go into her room and look for all the personal papers they said they would need.’
He frowned. ‘Do you know where she kept them?’
‘No,’ Lucy shook her head. ‘I have no idea at all.’
‘I’d better go and see if I can find them. I suppose they’ll want her birth certificate, wedding certificate, that sort of thing.’
‘Yes,’ Lucy nodded, ‘I think that is what they want and probably any insurance policies, if she had any.’
‘You mean to pay for her funeral,’ Barry muttered and there was such unhappiness in his voice that Lucy threw caution to the wind and put her arms round him to try and comfort him.
He groaned and buried his face in her hair as he returned her hug then, with a great effort, he freed himself and went out of the room and downstairs to start searching.
Lucy respected his need for privacy. She wanted to help because she knew from her own experience how traumatic having to deal with all the officialdom could be. She suspected, though, that Barry wanted to do these things himself; it was a way of atoning for not being there when his mother died.
The funeral was a simple ceremony. Lucy and Sam attended, and one or two of the other lodgers in the house, but after the internment they all quietly went their own way. Barry went home with Lucy and Sam and they had a meal together. He stayed for a couple of hours before saying he was tired and, as he hadn’t had much sleep lately, he thought he’d have an early night.
The next day he told Lucy that he’d only been given a few days’ compassionate leave so he was clearing out his mother’s rooms because he’d be rejoining his ship, which was still in the Albert Dock in Liverpool taking on fresh cargo, almost immediately.
‘It seems senseless to go on renting them simply as a base for when I get leave,’ he told Lucy. ‘It would be different if I was planning to get married and needed a home for my wife,’ he added looking pointedly at her.
Lucy didn’t answer; she felt uncomfortable as the blood rushed to her cheeks.
Barry walked across to the door, then paused and turned round. ‘I’m not much good at this sort of thing, Lucy, but I’m trying my damnedness to ask you to marry me.’
‘Oh, Barry, I’m sorry, but the answer is no.’ Lucy laid a hand on his arm. ‘I like you very much as a friend, but I can’t commit further than that.’
‘Ah well, I thought that was the case,’ he muttered. He pulled out his cigarettes and Lucy noticed his hand was shaking slightly as he lit one. ‘If you would like to have the rooms my mother had, I could always ask the landlord on your behalf,’ he offered. ‘Of course, it would mean that you would have to take over her duties as janitor and collect the rent from all the other tenants and be the one to interview new tenants when there were rooms to let.’
‘I think all that responsibility might be rather too much for me,’ Lucy said dubiously.
‘Yes, you wouldn’t have the right firmness in your tone when you said no to them; they might think that deep down you didn’t mean it,’ Barry said darkly.
Before Lucy could think of an answer he’d gone. She felt confused; surely he didn’t think that she was playing hard to get, she thought angrily.
The minute Sam arrived home she related what had been said but to her annoyance he seemed to be surprised that she had turned down Barry’s suggestion.
‘Surely collecting rents would be far better than washing up dirty dishes and greasy pots and pans?’ he pointed out. ‘Barry was probably trying to make things easier for you; he’s daft about you. I can’t understand why you keep pushing him to one side. Marry him and your troubles will be over.’
Lucy decided not to argue with him.
She saw very little of Barry during the remaining few days of his leave. Once or twice she caught sight of him hurrying out of the house as though dashing to keep an appointment.
Sam said he had seen him going into Berky’s room with a tall middle-aged man whom he thought was probably the landlord. When Barry finally popped in to say goodbye and tell them that he was sailing later that night, he said that the landlord was keeping all Berky’s furniture so that he could let out her place ready-furnished to one of his relations who would also be collecting the rents and supervising the lettings.
‘Have you any idea when you will next be coming home on leave?’ Lucy asked.
‘Home?’ Barry gave her a wry smile. ‘I don’t have a home here any longer so I don’t suppose our paths will ever cross again.’
‘There will always be a bed and a meal for you here whenever you come ashore,’ Sam told him as they shook hands.
Sam frowned as the door closed behind Barry and he turned to face Lucy. ‘So you’re happy to let him go without a word, are you?’ he said bitterly.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Lucy prevaricated, turning away and busying herself tidying some things on the table.
‘Oh yes you do. What on earth is wrong with you, Lucy? Are you going to spend the rest of your days mooning over Robert? He was a first-class scoundrel who double-crossed you, so forget him and get on with your life.’
‘I am getting on with my life,’ she defended. ‘We both are, if it comes to that.’
‘That’s utter rubbish and you know it,’ Sam said angrily. ‘You’re not happy living here in a couple of rooms with only me for company. You have no friends; you earn your money charring. Heavens above, Lucy, you are worth far more than that. You make me feel a burden; it’s as if I’m dragging you down and holding you back.’
‘Why should you feel like that?’ she asked in surprise. ‘You’re earning enough to pay your share. I would be much worse off if we weren’t living together.’
‘So you want to spend your life like this, do you, with no future to look forward to and struggling to make ends meet?’
‘How else should I spend it?’ she sighed.
‘Well, you could have accepted Barry’s proposal. He’d make a good husband.’
‘Look, Sam, can you get it into your thick head that I don’t love Barry?’ Lucy told him angrily.
‘No, you are still wearing your heart on your sleeve for Robert,’ he said contemptuously.
‘I don’t dwell on what is all in the past,’ she told him stiffly. ‘I wish I could say the same about you.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘You still feel angry and hurt by what Patsy did; betraying you and having another man’s baby.’
‘And who was that other man?’ he sneered. ‘It was your boyfriend. The man you were on the verge of marrying – and would have done, if it hadn’t been for the accident.’
Lucy walked over and put her arm round Sam’s shoulders. ‘Don’t let’s keep going over it and stirring up the past. We’ve had some bad fortune but it’s time to forget all about that. We’ve got each other and I’m happy enough if you are.’
He stared at her for a moment, his chin jutting out, then he relaxed and returned her hug. ‘Don’t take any notice of me. I’m happy enough and grateful for all you’ve done for me; it’s just that I hate to see your life slipping by unfulfilled.’
‘It’s not. I’m far too busy to think about what might have been.’
‘You’re going to miss Berky. You haven’t made any friends at all since we’ve been living here,’ he said changing the conversation.
‘No, and I didn’t make any when we were living in Hans Court,’ she reminded him. ‘I think I am a loner; I’m happy enough with my own company and yours.’
Almost overnight, Lucy found that her life had suddenly taken a downward spiral. Joe and Madge Black, the middle-aged couple who moved into Berky’s rooms, were intent on changes.
Lucy’s first encounter with them was on their first Friday there. They didn’t wait for her to take the rent money down but Madge came up to collect it. She was a thin, scrawny woman with frizzy red hair, green eyes and a very sharp voice.
When Lucy handed over the
five shillings and sixpence, Madge held it in the palm of her hand, frowning. ‘What’s this?’ she demanded. ‘You’ve got three rooms, so it should be six shillings.’
‘No, one of the rooms is only a box room; Berky agreed we need only pay one shilling and sixpence a week for it.’
‘Berky’s dead. We’re in charge now. My husband said it was six shillings, so that’s what I want.’
Lucy didn’t like her tone or her attitude. ‘My agreement is to pay five shillings and sixpence,’ she said firmly and closed the door.
The Blacks were not content to leave it at that. Within minutes Joe Black was hammering on their door. Lucy almost felt afraid to answer it but knowing that Sam would be home at any minute and that Joe Black would undoubtedly face him with it, she felt she ought to deal with the matter.
The moment she opened the door Joe Black stepped inside. A big, untidy-looking man with receding dark greasy hair and a florid face with small dark eyes, he was an imposing figure.
His breath smelt of beer and involuntarily Lucy stepped backwards as he pushed past her into the living room.
‘What’s all this nonsense, trying to cheat us out of sixpence a week?’ he demanded.
‘I am not doing anything of the sort. The rent we fixed with Berky was for five shillings and sixpence a week.’
‘That’s your story. What proof is there of that now that Berky’s dead and gone?’
‘I’m hardly likely to lie to you over sixpence, now am I?’ Lucy said hotly.
‘I’m not so sure. You certainly don’t want to pay it.’
‘The room isn’t worth two shillings a week. There’s only space for a single bed in there. It was Berky’s box room.’
‘In that case, get your things out of there right this minute and we’ll let it to someone else,’ Joe Black ordered.
‘I can’t do that. It’s my brother’s room. I can’t move his things without his permission.’
Joe Black chewed on the ends of his straggly moustache thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps you’d better let me see the room for myself and just possibly I might reconsider.’
Reluctantly, Lucy took him along the passage to the small room at the far end. It was so small that there was barely room for the two of them to stand side by side once they were in there. As he turned to leave Joe pushed hard against her and Lucy found herself falling backwards on to the bed.
With a loud belly laugh he put out a hand to pull her upright. ‘I suppose that’s one way of making me agree not to change the rent,’ he leered.
Lucy bit down on her lip to stop herself from saying anything as she drew back and shook his hand away from her arm, sickened by his suggestion and also by his beery breath.
‘I’ll take the five shillings and sixpence this week but I’ll have to think it over and decide what to do before next rent day,’ he told her as he ambled off back downstairs to his own rooms.
Chapter Seventeen
Even though Lucy was still shaking with fright when Sam arrived home he didn’t at first seem to believe her when she told him about her encounter with Joe Black.
A few days later, however, when she answered the door to find Joe Black standing there and he forced his way past her and into their living room, Sam became aware of what a dangerous character he was.
Once again Joe Black was demanding they pay six shillings a week and his manner was so threatening that in the end Sam had no option but to accept his terms.
As soon as he had gone Sam agreed with Lucy that there was no doubt about it but they couldn’t stay there any longer than they absolutely had to.
‘The trouble is we can’t afford to move, not right now. Paying him another sixpence a week is going to be bad enough, but if we want to move, then we will probably have to find a month’s rent up front for the new place.’
‘We didn’t when we moved here,’ Sam reminded her. ‘But of course Berky was one in a million in every way.’
‘Yes, Berky was an exception to the rule, wasn’t she?’ Lucy sighed. ‘I doubt if we will ever find another landlady who was as good to us as she was.’
‘True enough but, nevertheless, we don’t want to go on living here, not now that the Blacks have taken over the running of things. He seems to have designs on you and I don’t like that; I don’t think you’re safe.’
‘Don’t worry, now that I know what he’s like I’ll be on my guard and make certain that I avoid any compromising situations with him.’
‘Make sure you do. It won’t be easy because I think he’s a cunning old bastard and it would appear that his mind is made up about you,’ Sam told her grimly.
‘I’ll try and find more work somewhere,’ Lucy said thoughtfully. ‘I have a couple of hours before I need to go to the hotel each morning and I’m usually finished there by three in the afternoon.’
‘You have the cleaning and shopping to do for us, so don’t go taking on too much other work,’ Sam warned. ‘You need some time for yourself.’
‘No, I don’t. If I wandered around the shops, I’d only spend money we haven’t got.’ Lucy chuckled.
‘Window shopping is about all you ever do apart from buying food,’ Sam said a trifle bitterly. ‘It’s a hard life for you, Lucy; you should have money in your pocket to spend on clothes and things like that, not work all day, every day like you do.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘I do wish you hadn’t turned Barry Mason down; you would have had a much better life if you’d married him.’
‘We’ll have a much better life if I get some more work or else a better job with more pay,’ Lucy told him crisply. ‘Don’t worry; we’ll get away from here just as soon as ever we can.’
‘You’re not the only one who will be scheming,’ Sam promised. ‘I’ll see if I can think of some way of earning more money as well.’
Sam was as good as his word. The following week he announced that he had decided that in future he was not only going to work in the mornings but also see if he could expand his business. By working in the early part of the afternoon as well he hoped to entice people who arrived on the midday ferry boats and who had come over to Liverpool on business or to do some shopping to have their shoes cleaned.
On the Monday he had only three customers but, remembering how slow things had been the first time he’d started shining shoes, he was determined to stick it out for the rest of the week in the hope that things would improve.
On the Wednesday morning Lucy reminded Sam before she went off to her charring job that it was 12 July and Orangeman’s Day.
‘There will probably be huge crowds everywhere as well as men marching and a band, so it might be better if you stayed at home today.’
‘The more people there are out and about the more chances I get of doing good business,’ he argued.
‘That may be true enough, but remember things can get nasty. The marches often end up in fights between the prozzies and the cat’licks before the day is out.’
Reluctantly, Sam agreed to take the day off but by the middle of the day he was so tired of being cooped up in their rooms and by the fact that he was losing money by not being at his pitch that he decided to go out.
The moment he reached the top of Water Street Sam found himself in a dense crowd of men, women and children as they waited for the marching bands that were making their way through Liverpool and were now heading for the Pier Head.
The crowd began shouting and waving flags and banners as the sound of the band approaching became louder and people began to surge forward to try and be the first to catch a glimpse of them.
Amongst the crowd were the two boys who had taunted Sam when he and Lucy had lived in Hans Court and the moment they spotted Sam they began shouting out rude names at him and taunting him about being a cripple.
As the band and the marchers came into view the crowds shuffled back on to the pavement to let them pass by. The two boys seized the opportunity to come up behind Sam and as he tried to move backwards they jostled him so hard that he stumbled forward ri
ght into the middle of the road and ended up directly in the path of the band, causing complete chaos as the men stumbled against each other desperately trying to keep their footing so as not to fall and damage their instruments.
Although they did their best to avoid Sam who was now lying prone on the roadway, one of the men accidentally trod on him breaking his right arm. The man marching immediately behind fell over the pair of them and landed directly on top of Sam and the impact left Sam unconscious.
The police who were escorting the marchers were immediately on the scene. None of the band or marchers was seriously hurt but an ambulance was called to take Sam to hospital. He was not only unconscious but also appeared to be having great difficulty breathing and they suspected that one or more of his ribs may have been damaged.
When, late in the afternoon, Lucy returned from her midday washing-up stint at the hotel which had taken far longer than usual due to all the extra customers they’d had that day, she felt annoyed when she found that Sam had not heeded her warning and had gone out.
Even so, she still wasn’t unduly worried until a couple of hours later when he still hadn’t put in an appearance and the meal she had prepared was still waiting to be dished up.
In the end she decided she might as well eat hers and warm his up again when he did get home.
As time passed and Sam still hadn’t turned up she began to be seriously concerned. She had no idea where to start looking for him. She felt cross because he had ignored her advice about going out but, nevertheless, felt concerned in case he had become involved in some kind of trouble. However, she was reluctant to go to the police.
As the evening began to draw on Lucy’s feeling of unease mounted. She kept remembering the rowdy crowds there had been in Liverpool earlier on in the day, waving flags and banners, and which she’d seen near the Exchange that afternoon when she’d been coming home. If, despite her warning, Sam had gone to his pitch as usual, then he might well have been involved in an incident of some kind.
Putting on her hat and coat Lucy decided to walk towards the Pier Head in case Sam had taken a walk that way first as he did every day now when he went off to work. If there was no sign of him, she told herself, then she would go the police station and explain that he was missing and that she was worried about him.