Lights Out Liverpool

by Maureen Lee

  ‘I used to think like that when I was young. I managed to get to Crete during my time at university, but that was my one and only visit, I’m afraid. Somehow, life never seems to go as planned.’

  ‘I say, would you like a cup of tea? I’m Marcus Dillon, by the way. In fact, I’ve a horrible suspicion I left the kettle boiling.’

  They shook hands.

  ‘Arthur Fleming, and I’d love a cup of tea.’ As they strolled towards a staircase at the end of the room, Arthur asked, ‘You actually live on the premises?’

  ‘Yes, there’s rather a fine flat at the top, with magnificent views.’

  Arthur felt his mouth water as they passed through another floor full of glass cases packed with exhibits. ‘Does the place have to close down?’ he asked. He’d just had an idea, so breathtaking that his voice trembled as he spoke.

  ‘Not really.’ Marcus laughed contemptuously. ‘It’s just that the Trustees are a lazy lot. They can’t be bothered to find another curator. They think the war will be over in no time at all, I’ll be back, and they won’t have had to lift a finger. But, as I said before, I was already toying with the idea of chucking it in.’

  ‘How do you get in touch with these Trustees?’

  Marcus glanced at him quickly. ‘You’re not interested, are you?’

  ‘I’d give my right arm for a job like this!’

  ‘In that case, I’ll do my utmost to see you get it – though your right arm can stay where it is, thanks all the same!’

  Next morning, Jessica Fleming waddled across the road to Number 16. She badly needed to talk to someone, and Eileen Costello was the obvious person.

  But instead of Eileen, it was Annie Poulson who answered the door to her knock.

  ‘Oh, hallo,’ Annie said politely. The two women didn’t have much to do with each other. ‘Eileen’s at work. I’ve just been seeing Tony off to school and giving the place a bit of a tidy up.’

  ‘In that case, I’ll come back this afternoon.’

  Annie folded her arms and leant on the doorframe. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Big!’ said Jess.

  ‘You look as if you might be having another lorry for Arthur.’

  ‘I got weighed in Woolworths the other day, and I’m over fourteen stone!’ Jess was never quite sure whether to be proud or ashamed of her enormous size.

  ‘I weren’t that heavy when I was expecting twins!’ exclaimed Annie. ‘Look, why don’t you pop in a minute for a cuppa?’

  ‘I won’t be holding you up, will I?’

  ‘I wouldn’t ask if you were! Come in, that’s if you can fit through the door. I expect you’ve had yours widened.’

  One of the things that never ceased to amaze Jess was the way the women moved in and out of each other’s houses as if they were their own. She went inside and made herself comfortable in the easy chair under the window. There was a cardboard box of odds and ends on the table; books and ornaments and one or two soft toys. Annie disappeared into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

  ‘I understand congratulations are in order,’ Jess called. ‘Eileen said you’re getting married.’

  ‘That’s right. Fifteenth of September, that’s two weeks on Saturday. The lads are coming from Colchester. They’ve been given a special twenty-four-hour pass.’

  ‘I hope you’ll be very happy,’ Jess said sincerely.

  ‘Ta, very much.’ Annie appeared in the doorway. ‘If you’re around on the day, come and have a drink and a piece of wedding cake. The whole street’s invited.’

  ‘I’d love to. Where are you going on your honeymoon?’

  Annie’s dark eyes twinkled. ‘Well, I’m not sure if you could call two nights in a Southport hotel a honeymoon. Chris can’t take time off, so’s the both of us’ll be back at work on the Monday.’ She vanished again. ‘I’ll give this a good stir. Y’can’t spare an extra spoonful for the pot since tea went on rations, and I hate it weak.’ She returned a few minutes later with two cups of pale tea. ‘It still looks like gnats’ piss,’ she remarked.

  Jess noticed a framed photograph protruding from the box on the table; a family portrait, the man achingly familiar. Annie saw her looking at it. She removed the photo from the box and passed it over.

  ‘That’s Jack Doyle and his wife, Mollie. She died about fifteen years ago. You can see where Sheila gets her looks from can’t you, and Eileen’s the spitting image of her dad. As for Sean, we used to say Mollie must have had it off with the coalman, he turned out so dark. That was taken at Sean’s christening.’

  Jess stared hard at the tall figure standing with his hand on the chair on which his pretty wife sat. On her knee, she held a baby dressed in a long white gown. Jack’s other hand was on the shoulder of a smiling Sheila. Eileen, who would have been about twelve when the photograph was taken, stood slightly to one side, rather alone, thought Jess, and she was as unsmiling and serious as her father. It occurred to Jess, for the first time, that the baby she carried was related to these children. Perhaps there might even be a resemblance!

  Annie said, ‘Jack Doyle’s a fine upstanding figure of a man, isn’t he? It’s a shame he never got married again.’

  Jess put the photograph back without a word. Annie picked the box up and shoved it under the sideboard. ‘Eileen’s been packing a few odds and ends to take with her. You know she’s moving, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, she said she was going as soon as you got married.’ Jess began to twist her cup around and around in the saucer. She had to tell someone! ‘Actually, I’m moving, too! Arthur’s got a good job up in the Lake District.’ The old snobbery returned briefly as she corrected herself. ‘I suppose you’d call it a position, rather than a job.’

  ‘The Lake District!’ said Annie, impressed. ‘I’ve never been there meself, but people say it’s very nice.’

  ‘The thing is, I don’t want to go,’ Jess said passionately. ‘I don’t want to go more than anything in the world.’

  Annie looked taken aback by the obvious strength of feeling. ‘You surprise me. I would have thought you couldn’t wait to get away from Pearl Street?’

  ‘Oh, don’t get me wrong,’ Jess said quickly. ‘I loathe it here. I was only too glad to escape from Pearl Street the first time, and I was anything but pleased to come back, though I settled in better than expected. I’ve made some friends, and I’ve grown very fond of Jacob, next door, but if it was Waterloo or Crosby, I’d go like a shot. The thing is, I’ve never had the least desire to leave Liverpool. I love the shops and I suppose I love the people, in a way. After all, I’m a city person and a scouse, through and through; the River Mersey probably flows through my veins, like it does us all. Last night, when Arthur was going on about rolling hills and fields, “getting back to nature” he called it, it made me feel physically sick.’

  ‘Oh, lord, Jess! Did you tell him?’

  Jess shook her head. ‘No, I couldn’t. That’s why I’m telling you! I’ve never seen him so excited. He looked twenty years younger, just like the man I married all that time ago. He thought I’d be thrilled to bits, him getting a respectable job – not that there’s anything wrong with being a lorry driver,’ she added hastily, conscious she was talking to a woman about to marry a mere fireman. ‘Another thing, Jacob and I intended to begin our concerts again once I had the baby – he was already making plans for Christmas. I was really looking forward to it.’

  ‘There’s bound to be a choir you can join,’ Annie said comfortably. ‘You’ll settle in soon enough. They’re probably more your type of people up there.’

  ‘I’m not sure if I know what my type is anymore,’ Jess said, close to tears. ‘I’m all confused.’

  Annie patted her arm. ‘It’s probably the baby,’ she said. ‘Once you’ve had it, you’ll be your old self again and you’ll see things in a different light.’

  ‘Will I?’ Jess looked at Annie pathetically. ‘I must say, I’ve enjoyed being pregnant, but what with the heat, and looking like an elephant, I
’m beginning to wish it was all over.’

  Annie giggled. ‘They say elephants take seven years to have a baby!’

  ‘Oh, don’t!’

  ‘Anyroad, you’re lucky to be getting away from all these air raids. Wasn’t that an awful one we had the other night? Mossley Hill church was bombed and three people killed.’

  ‘I suppose I am – lucky, that is,’ sniffed Jess.

  ‘Do you love Arthur?’ Annie asked sharply.

  ‘Of course I do!’

  ‘Well then, that’s all that matters.’ Annie squeezed Jess’s arm fiercely. ‘I’d go to Land’s End with Chris, if that’s what he wanted. To love a good man and for him to love you back is the most important thing in the whole world – more important even than kids. It don’t matter where you live, so long as you’re together.’

  ‘You’re right!’ Jess squared her shoulders. ‘I’m glad I came. I already feel better about everything.’ The photograph of Jack Doyle and his family stared up at her from underneath the sideboard. Perhaps it would be no bad thing to move away before her child began to grow. What if people, particularly Arthur, noticed a similarity?

  ‘I hope my advice was as good as Eileen would have given.’

  ‘It wasn’t advice I needed,’ said Jess, managing a smile, ‘more a shoulder to cry on. I’d already decided Arthur would never know I’m not as excited as he is – I put on a really good performance last night. He gave up twenty years for me. Now it’s my turn to do something for him.’

  Eileen stood in the doorway and regarded the living room of the cottage with satisfaction. The wooden floor, the scratched table and equally shabby sideboard gleamed after the good polishing she’d just given them. Of course the ceiling, which was more grey than white, would be improved by a lick of white distemper, but that was for the future. In the meantime, she’d washed the beams and they’d come up a treat. The long room only caught the sun in the mornings, and it looked cool and fresh, the windows wide open, the flowered curtains billowing outwards. Once there were a few ornaments scattered round and a picture hung over the attractive brick fireplace, it would look like home.

  Nick had rented the cottage furnished. The owners must have considered the contents worthless, because they hadn’t bothered to remove them once the place was sold, and Eileen thought longingly of the green velvet three-piece in Pearl Street. She was rather fond of that suite, and it was a million times better than Nick’s threadbare collection of armchairs that didn’t match. But the suite belonged to Francis, and she’d no intention of removing a thing that wasn’t hers; she’d just take Tony’s stuff and her own personal possessions.

  After a last satisfied look, she went into the back kitchen, which looked equally smart, with fresh paper on the shelves of the old dresser and the cheap crockery she’d bought on display.

  Jack Doyle shouted across the garden, ‘This looks as though it might have been a vegetable patch once.’

  Eileen wandered over to the overgrown strip of land behind the hedge at the bottom of the garden which she hadn’t even realised was part of the property, until her dad investigated and decided it was.

  ‘See!’ he said when she reached him. ‘The soil’s been dug in furrows for ’taters.’

  ‘Fancy you knowing that!’ she said admiringly.

  He jerked the cigarette hanging from his bottom lip upwards, took a puff without using his hands and said modestly, ‘It’s the sort of thing you pick up.’

  ‘You’re welcome to use it, Dad,’ Eileen said eagerly. ‘You could come and tend to it at weekends. It’d be lovely to see you.’

  She was overjoyed when he replied, ‘It’d be a shame to see it go to waste. We need all the food we can get at the moment. Y’could even have a few hens out here for your own eggs.’

  ‘Eggs!’ Eggs were proving more and more difficult to get lately. It seemed little short of bliss to imagine coming out each morning and collecting them fresh for breakfast.

  ‘And you wouldn’t be short of a chicken when it comes to Christmas.’

  ‘I couldn’t possibly eat the chickens, Dad. I’d grow too fond of them, and Nick could never bring himself to kill one.’

  Jack glanced at her, amused. Nick had probably killed quite a few Germans in his time, yet she didn’t think he could turn his hand to a chicken. ‘You just give their necks a quick twist, that’s all,’ he said ghoulishly.

  ‘Shut up, Dad! I’ll settle for the eggs. Anyroad, I’ll go and get on with the bedrooms. Where’s our Tony?’

  ‘He’s up that apple tree.’

  Apparently the apple tree behind the hedge belonged to the cottage, and she espied her son struggling through the leafy branches which were laden with fruit.

  ‘They look like cookers,’ she remarked. ‘I might take a few home for our Sheila and Annie.’

  ‘I’d leave them a while if I were you. They ain’t properly ripe yet, though you can take the rhubarb. I’ve never seen stalks that big before, they must be a good two inches thick.’

  ‘Okay, Dad,’ she said contentedly.

  She’d been thrilled to bits when he’d offered to come with her when she announced her intention of spending Sunday cleaning the cottage. ‘I’d better take a look at this Melling place where you’re going to live,’ he said grumpily, though he’d enjoyed himself in the garden. She felt sure he and Nick would get on once they got to know each other.

  Once inside, she went upstairs and began to polish the floors which she’d washed earlier. She sang to herself as she worked and made a mental list of things that still had to be bought; a couple of little rattan mats for beside the beds, an alarm clock, because she’d never wake up of her own accord, and some new curtains for Tony’s room – the ones already there had faded to holes. One good thing, the previous owners must have provided new bedding when Nick moved in, as there were plenty of new sheets and pillow cases.

  Both beds were bare at the moment, rusty springs exposed; the palliasses were airing on the grass outside. The blankets and covers had been washed and were drying on the new line which her dad had put up as soon as he arrived.

  ‘Eileen!’

  She went across to the open window and leaned on the sill. ‘What, Dad?’

  ‘Did you say there was a pub close by? I’m parched for a pint.’

  ‘It’s just down the road.’

  Tony must have heard. He came clambering down the tree, shouting, ‘Can I come, too, Grandad? We can sit outside, like we did with Nick.’

  Jack Doyle looked pleased. ‘I reckon so.’

  ‘Go and wash your face and hands first, Tony,’ Eileen said. ‘They’re filthy.’

  ‘Rightio, Mam.’

  As Tony scooted into the kitchen, Jack asked, ‘Have you got a school sorted out for the lad?’

  ‘The Catholic church acts as a school during the week,’ Eileen told him. ‘I’ve already put Tony’s name down with the priest. When it comes to after school, Miss Thomas says there’s quite a few local women with young kids working at Dunnings. She’s going to sort something out for me and promises to turn a blind eye if I disappear at about half past eight when I’m on the morning shift to make sure he has his breakfast. Miss Thomas says if the Government want women to work, they should provide “facilities”, I think she called it, for their children.’

  ‘This Miss Thomas sounds like a right old stirrer,’ he said approvingly.

  ‘Oh, by the way, Dad,’ Eileen hissed. ‘If anyone in the pub asks who you are, say you’re Nick’s father-in-law. They think we’re married down there.’

  ‘Oh, they do, do they?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing.’

  ‘All I know is I’ve never felt so happy in me life,’ she sang blithely.

  He shrugged. ‘That’s all right, then.’

  Tony emerged from the kitchen, his face shining, and the two of them disappeared round the side of the house, hand in hand. As soon as they’d gone, Eileen sank down on the bed. The springs creaked mightily, an
d she thought, ‘I’d better do something about that before Nick comes back.’

  The thought of Nick coming back to the cottage, which was now a proper home with a proper family living in it, so overwhelmed her, that she got up and twirled around the room and nearly fell headlong when she slipped on the newly polished floor. She laughed out loud and wondered if you could go mad with happiness.

  She’d sobered up somewhat by the time she began on Tony’s room. In order to achieve this happiness, she was leaving much behind. She hated the idea of her sister not being just across the road, though Sheila had promised to come to the cottage if the bombing got worse. ‘Even if it means you all sleeping on the floor,’ Eileen had insisted.

  Once here, in this isolated place, there’d be no neighbours to call on if she needed to borrow a cup of sugar or a ciggie, no Jacob Singerman or Paddy O’Hara dropping in for a chat. She reckoned she’d miss Pearl Street more than she thought possible when the time came to leave, but in her heart she knew that even if the worst happened and Nick didn’t survive, this was the place she wanted to be; this was where they’d made love and lived together, even though it had only been for a little while. His spirit was everywhere, and that would see her through.

  She sighed. On Monday, the country would have been at war a whole year. Winston Churchill had said it might last another two. Two years! It seemed a lifetime away, but if you said it quick, it seemed to take no time at all.

  The place wouldn’t be so bad, the young medical orderly thought, if it wasn’t for the sand. The sand, a fine golden dust, which looked grand in its proper place, in other words, the desert, seemed to get in every orifice, particularly the eyes. Of course, there was also the heat. You hadn’t had your shirt on a minute before it was soaked with sweat, and the thought of a long cool bath was little short of paradise. Then there were the insects; flies as big as rabbits, and other unspeakable things he couldn’t put a name to, but which made his flesh crawl.

  In other words, he thought, grinning, if it weren’t for the sand, the heat, and the flies, Alexandria wouldn’t be so bad, except he was bored out of his bleeding mind, stuck in this little hospital, miles away from the action in Mersa Metruh, where the lads were really getting stuck into the Eyeties, even though they were outnumbered five to one. He idly drew a picture of a tank on the pad in front of him, though soon threw the pencil down. The little cubicle at the end of the single ward was like an oven, despite the fan whirring away in the corner. He got up, stretching, and went outside. The heat from the midday sun was so oppressive that he realised inside was cool in comparison, and was about to return when a jeep came roaring into the compound, raising clouds of sand in its wake.