Lights Out Liverpool

by Maureen Lee

  It drew to a halt outside the hospital and an officer stepped out of the back. The medical orderly stood to attention and saluted.

  ‘Captain Donnelly, sir!’ he barked. The captain was the unit’s MO, and had been up at the front for over a month.

  ‘At ease, man.’

  The younger man relaxed as Captain Donnelly mounted the wooden steps into the building. ‘What’s the situation here?’ he asked. ‘How many spare beds do we have?’

  ‘Two patients, four spare beds, sir,’ the orderly replied briskly, adding anxiously, ‘I hope this doesn’t mean we’ve had some injuries, sir?’

  ‘Well, there’s bound to be some injuries, man,’ the captain replied patiently. ‘There’s a battle going on out there, but compared to the Eyeties, our losses are small. No, it’s just that I’d like to get the worst cases out of the tents and under a proper roof, where you can look after them, can’t you, Jones?’

  ‘Oh, yes, sir,’ the young man said eagerly. He was longing to do his bit.

  ‘What’s wrong with these two men?’ Captain Donnelly asked as he entered the ward. A man sitting up in bed, reading a paperback book, hastily laid it down and tried to look ill.

  ‘That’s Cooper, sir. He had a fever, pretty bad, but I reckon he could be discharged any minute now.’

  ‘And how do you feel about that, Cooper?’ Captain Donnelly asked pleasantly.

  ‘Any minute now would do me fine, sir,’ Cooper replied bravely.

  ‘Good man!’ The captain pointed to the next bed, where a figure lay prone, eyes closed, and head swathed in bandages. ‘And this chap?’

  ‘That’s Costello, sir. Normally, he’s up and about, but he’s just had his injection and it’s sent him off to sleep. He had, well, he had an accident.’

  ‘What sort of accident?’

  ‘He went into town one night and got beaten up pretty bad. According to Lieutenant Morgan, he’s lost the sight in his left eye.’ Lieutenant Morgan was the junior MO.’

  Captain Donnelly winced. ‘When did this happen?’

  ‘A few weeks ago, sir.’

  ‘I see.’ The captain picked up the notes hooked over the foot of the metal bed frame and began to read; ‘Costello, Francis, Lance Corporal.’ He vaguely remembered the chap from the Paymaster’s office; a good-looking fellow, though not young. He searched for the age on the notes – thirty-seven, which meant he’d been a regular or in the Territorials – a courageous man, ready to do his bit for his country. It was a shame, ending up like this. He read further; the man had a wife and child.

  ‘Bloody wogs!’ he swore aloud.

  ‘Well, actually, sir,’ the orderly said, slightly embarrassed, ‘it weren’t the wogs what done it. It were two of our own chaps.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, man,’ the Captain said angrily. ‘We came out to fight the enemy, not each other. What happened? Do you know?’

  ‘Well, sir, I only heard it on the grapevine, like. There weren’t no names mentioned, but from what I can gather, Costello made an unseemly suggestion to a couple of young ’uns, who took umbrage and gave him a good going over.’

  ‘He made what?’

  ‘An unseemly suggestion, sir.’

  Captain Donnelly’s face grew so red, the young orderly was worried he was about to explode. Without a word, the older man marched out of the hospital. On the steps outside, he paused and said, ‘Have this place ready to receive six wounded men by tomorrow night.’

  ‘But what about Costello, sir?’

  Captain Donnelly replied contemptuously, ‘Have him sent home on the first available transport!’

  As the Saturday before the wedding would be Annie and Eileen’s last opportunity to go out together, they thought they should do something special.

  ‘It won’t really be our last night out,’ Annie said, ‘but from now on, it’ll be entirely different, what with me married and living in Fazakerley, and you in Melling. What shall we do?’

  The decision wasn’t very hard to make. They decided to go and see Gone With The Wind, which was on at the Odeon in town. ‘Most of the women at work have been, and they’ve raved about it ever since,’ said Eileen. ‘The thing is, Jess Fleming’s dying to go, but Arthur always gets a headache in the pictures.’

  ‘Well, invite her too,’ Annie said generously.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t mind? After all, it’s our night out.’

  ‘I’m so happy, I wouldn’t care if you asked Aggie Donovan.’

  On Saturday, the three women sat near the back of the cinema, Jess on the end seat, as the usherette pointed out they were slightly bigger than the rest. Soon, the glorious music swelled, the dramatic saga of the American Civil War unfolded before them, and the entire audience sat engrossed, eyes glued to the screen. But soon after the interval, Jess began to fidget.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ whispered Annie.

  ‘I’ve got a funny pain. I think it’s cramp.’

  ‘Stretch your legs out into the aisle,’ Annie said un-sympathetically. ‘Here, have another chocolate.’

  ‘Thanks. Bloody hell!’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  But Jess continued to shift uncomfortably in her seat. Suddenly, she said in a loud, astonished voice, ‘I’ve wet myself.’

  ‘Shush!’ a dozen voices hissed.

  ‘But I’ve wet myself,’ Jess said, even louder, ‘and the cramp’s got worse. It’s coming over me in waves.’

  ‘Jaysus!’ groaned Eileen. ‘Whose idea was it to bring her to see Gone With The Wind?’

  ‘It weren’t mine,’ said Annie.

  ‘Well, I’m sorry if you’re embarrassed,’ Jess said huffily, ‘but I’ve never wet myself in public before.’

  ‘Will you shut your bleeding gob over there!’ a man shouted.

  ‘Shut your own bleeding gob,’ Annie shouted back. ‘There’s a woman here about to have a baby.’

  ‘Where?’ asked Jess.

  ‘It’s you, you flaming nana. Your waters have broke and you’re having labour pains and if you don’t get out of this picturehouse in a hurry, you’ll have it in the aisle.’

  In the early hours of Sunday morning, Jessica Fleming gave birth to a bouncing 10lb 100z baby girl, whom she called Penelope. By tragic coincidence, it was the same morning that Rosie Gregson found little Charlie, who’d still not reached that weight although he was over two months old, dead in his cot.

  A marriage, a birth, and a death, all in the same week, thought Eileen when she was on her way to the cottage the next day. She’d meant to leave earlier, but what with congratulating Arthur and comforting Rosie, it was almost two o’clock by the time she got away. Tony had been left behind to play with Dominic, because Eileen didn’t intend staying long. There were just the beds to make, because she’d left the blankets in the airing cupboard, and the new curtains which Mr Singerman had sewn on his machine to put up in Tony’s room. Then, a last minute polish and the place would be ready to move into on Sunday, the day after Annie’s wedding.

  As she went down the path towards the front door, she heard the sound of the telephone ringing and her heart did a cartwheel. It could only be one person!

  She dropped everything on the step and fumbled with her key, turning it this way and that before the door would open. As soon as she was inside, she snatched the receiver up.

  ‘Nick!’

  ‘Thank God! I was praying you’d turn up. I’ve been trying to get through for hours.’

  ‘All sorts of things have been happening which made me late. I’ll tell you some other time. Anyroad, how are you? Are you all right? Oh, it’s good to hear you!’ She nearly dropped the phone in her excitement.

  ‘Actually, I’m in hospital,’ he said cheerfully.

  She immediately imagined him hideously burnt or minus a limb, but if that was the case, why did he sound so buoyant? ‘What happened?’

  ‘I crashed the bike and broke my wrist.’

  ‘You idiot!’ But he coul
dn’t fly a plane with a broken wrist, she thought in quick relief. It meant he had to remain safely on the ground for the time being.

  ‘You’re not the first one to call me that. Actually, they’re rather cross with me. As soon as I’m allowed out of hospital, I’ve been ordered to get out of sight for a while. Which means …’ He paused significantly.

  ‘Which means you can come home?’ she breathed.

  ‘For a while; a week, perhaps two.’

  ‘Oh, Nick!’ She was so overcome, she slid down the wall and sat on the floor clutching the receiver. ‘You won’t recognise the cottage when you see it,’ she told him. ‘I’ve cleaned it from top to bottom.’

  ‘When did you plan on moving in?’ he asked.

  She’d already told him in a letter of her intention of living in the cottage as he suggested. ‘Next Sunday. Annie’s getting married on Saturday …’

  ‘Darling,’ he interrupted, ‘if this damn hospital will discharge me in time, I’ve been offered a lift. There’s a chap I know travelling up to Wales on Friday, and he’s promised to drop me off.’

  ‘In that case, I’ll leave as soon as Annie goes on her honeymoon. Tony and me will see you here …’

  ‘No,’ he interrupted again, but this time there was a sense of urgency in his voice. ‘It’s about time we had a honeymoon. Let’s meet in town and go to the cottage together like a proper married couple – I’ll carry you over the threshold, as all good bridegrooms do.’

  ‘What about your broken wrist?’

  ‘I forgot. In that case, you and Tony will have to carry me!’ he said with an attempt at pathos.

  She laughed. ‘It sounds dead perfect.’

  ‘What time shall we meet?’

  ‘Annie’s car’s coming at three o’clock. There’s a train soon after. I’ll see you at Exchange Station about four.’

  ‘I can’t wait! I’d better ring off now, darling. I charmed a nurse into letting me use the phone in the doctor’s office. She’ll give me hell if she comes in and finds me still here.’

  Eileen felt briefly jealous of the nurse he’d charmed. ‘I love you,’ she said fiercely.

  ‘And I love you, my dearest girl, with all my heart.’

  The line clicked and he was gone. She sat there for a long time, nursing the receiver. It almost seemed unfair that she should be so happy. Last night, there’d been a horrific raid on London and literally hundreds of people had been killed. But, she supposed, in times like this, you just had to snatch at happiness when it came your way. If you didn’t, it might never come again.

  The Registry Office ceremony was simple and moving. The only guests were Chris’s daughter and her husband, Eileen, and, of course, the three lads, all in their khaki uniforms.

  Joe gave his mam away with touching dignity. Annie looked stunning in her canary yellow suit with a little veiled pillbox hat over one eye. She carried a posy of white roses.

  ‘This hat makes me look like an usherette,’ she complained to Eileen earlier when they were still in the house. ‘Instead of marrying me, the registrar will ask where he’s supposed to sit.’

  ‘Annie, you look lovely,’ Eileen assured her.

  ‘So do you. Pink’s definitely your colour and that hat really suits you.’ Eileen had pinned a pink flower to the band on the new white straw boater. She adjusted her short lace gloves. Nick’s present, the gold watch, gleamed on her wrist. It was the first occasion on which she could bring herself to wear it.

  ‘I’m meeting Nick like this,’ she said shyly. ‘I’m going to pretend it’s me going away outfit and I’m on me honeymoon, just like you.’

  ‘Oh, Eileen, luv. I hope you’ll be very happy.’

  ‘You too, Annie.’

  They hugged, just as Terry came in to announce the car had arrived.

  A small crowd had gathered to see them off. ‘I’ll miss the street,’ Annie said tearfully, as she waved goodbye through the rear window of the grey limousine.

  ‘I wonder who’ll be moving into your house?’ Eileen mused as the car turned the corner and they stopped waving.

  ‘I’ve no idea, luv. What about yours?’

  ‘T’ain’t mine, is it?’ Eileen said matter-of-factly. ‘I’ll write and tell Francis I’ve paid the rent till the end of the month. It’s up to him to decide what happens from then on. You’ll never guess, but Ellis Evans has got her eye on Jess’s place – not that I blame her, what with the electricity and the bath and that lovely stove. I wonder if Jess’ll manage to get back in time,’ she mused. ‘She’s not due out of hospital till Monday, but she feels so well and wanted to see you off. She was having a right old ding-dong with the matron when I went in the other day.’

  But Annie wasn’t listening. ‘Am I doing the right thing?’ she burst out frantically. ‘After all, I hardly know Chris.’

  ‘Of course you are, Mam,’ Joe soothed.

  ‘What happens if he’s not there? He might have had second thoughts.’

  ‘Make your mind up,’ Terry grinned. ‘You’re worrying about two opposite things.’

  Chris was waiting outside the registry office when they arrived. He couldn’t take his eyes off Annie as he helped her out of the car.

  They went inside, and within the space of only a few minutes, Annie Poulson became Mrs Christopher Parker.

  It was almost as good as the street party people still talked about even though it had taken place more than a year ago. Annie set a table up outside her house to hold the two-tier wedding cake which Mrs Harrison had iced, though she wanted the little well-used bride and groom from on top returned to use another time.

  There were sausage rolls and sandwiches and sherry for the women. The men were informed a round of drinks awaited them in the King’s Arms, and they all agreed Chris was a really nice feller.

  Aggie Donovan presented the newly-weds with a willow pattern teaset, a present from the whole street.

  ‘It’s too lovely to use,’ Annie said tearfully. ‘I’ll put it on show, so’s I’ll be reminded of Pearl Street every time I see it.’

  One of Chris’s mates from the fire station arrived to take a photograph of the couple cutting the cake, and Annie insisted he take a photo of the whole street. ‘I’ll frame it and put it by the tea service.’

  Freda Tutty emerged in her school uniform, even though it was Saturday, with Dicky and a dazed looking Gladys in tow. Gladys ached for a glass of gin, but Freda ruled the house with a rod of iron nowadays, and she rarely escaped to the pub. She grudgingly accepted a glass of sherry.

  ‘This is what I love,’ Sheila said to her sister as they leaned against the window sill watching the proceedings.

  ‘What, Sis?’

  ‘Oh, I dunno; weddings, funerals, christenings, parties. There’s always something going on in Pearl Street. It’s like living in a great big clock, and you wonder what’s going to happen next time it strikes.’ Sheila kept a watchful eye on Mary as she made her stiff, unsteady progress along the pavement to where her sisters were playing. ‘I don’t envy you going to live in that cottage, Eil.’

  ‘Nick will be there!’ Eileen said simply. ‘I wonder what time it is?’

  ‘You’re the one with the watch,’ Sheila smiled.

  ‘I forgot!’ It was a quarter to three. ‘Annie’s car’ll be here soon, then I’ll be off.’ At this very minute, Nick would be making his way towards Exchange Station.

  ‘Good luck, Sis. You know you’re always welcome at ours if things go wrong, though you’ll have to sleep on the settee in the parlour.’

  Eileen shook her head adamantly. ‘Nothing will go wrong, Sheila.’

  ‘Eileen!’ Jacob Singerman drew her to one side.

  ‘Hello, luv! I hadn’t forgotten you. I was going to say goodbye before I went.’

  ‘It’s not that.’ He laid a long gnarled finger on his lips. ‘Please say nothing to anyone just yet, but I have had news of my Ruth.’

  ‘Oh, Mr Singerman!’ She was so delighted, she kissed him impulsively
on the cheek. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘She’s in Spain, of all places. How she got there no-one knows, but I received a message from a synagogue in London where some sort of refugee centre is run. It was from a rabbi in Madrid that the message came.’

  ‘What about her husband and the children?’

  ‘There was no mention of them.’ He spread his arms and shrugged expressively. ‘I’ll just have to wait and see, but tonight, I shall visit my own synagogue and give thanks to God. Ach!’ He screwed up his face in an expression of disgust. ‘I am a terrible Jew. I haven’t been to the synagogue in many, many years.’ Then his rheumy eyes lit up. ‘Look, here’s Annie’s car. The street will be bereft! All the most beautiful young ladies are leaving. Annie, you, and soon Jess will be gone.’

  ‘You always say the nicest things, Mr Singerman,’ Eileen laughed. ‘Here, have some of my confetti so we can give Annie and Chris a good send off.’

  Annie came out of the house in tears after saying goodbye to her lads, who’d soon be returning to Colchester.

  Eileen didn’t follow the crowd who ran after the car. She caught Annie’s eye as she waved through the rear window and blew kisses with both hands until her friend had disappeared. The street was littered with confetti, as if it had been snowing flowers. People began to walk back, laughing and flushed with excitement. Paddy O’Hara started to play The Wedding March on his mouth organ, and Mr Singerman linked Sheila’s arm and they danced a funny sort of jig to the music. It was a good day to leave, Eileen thought contentedly, with everyone so happy. You’d never guess there was a war on. She glanced around for Tony, but there was no sign of him, so went indoors and washed the last few dishes, dried them, and looked around to see if there was anything else she should do before she closed the door on Number 16 for the final time. There was nothing. She picked up the bag containing her clothes and put it in the hall, ready, then went to look for her son.