The Mersey Daughter

by Annie Groves

  ‘Why would I tell anyone that, Winnie? It does nobody any good to make that public.’

  ‘Because you are always looking for a chance to tell lies about me!’ raged Winnie, her face going an unhealthy colour as her temper rose. ‘First you say all sorts of evil nonsense about my Charlie, and now you’re out spreading gossip about me and that useless girl who hangs around the house doing nothing. Well, you can stop it, and kindly tell your excuses for friends that they’ve got it wrong.’

  ‘That will only add fuel to the fire,’ Rita pointed out. ‘I don’t have time for this now, Winnie. I’m sorry to hear the news has got out but, before you say anything more, I’ll tell you straight, it’s only because it’ll upset Ruby if she thinks folk are talking about her and branding her a bastard. She’s the sweetest girl alive, which you’d know for yourself if you ever bothered talking to her or tried to get to know her. She’s also been a big help in keeping the shop going – not that you’d know that either, as a fat lot of use you’ve been since she got here. We’d have gone under if it wasn’t for her, so put that in your pipe and smoke it.’ She wheeled around. ‘Now I’m off. Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything. But you might manage a kind word to her, if you’ve got it in you, rather than running her down all the time.’ She slammed the outside door behind her before she said anything else she might regret.

  Walking swiftly along the main road, hoping to catch a bus now they were running more regularly, she wondered what this might mean. Maybe Winnie was coming out of her shell again, ready for a fight. That wasn’t good news, whichever way she looked at it. But perhaps it was inevitable; Rita wasn’t sure that she’d have wanted her mother-in-law to quietly drink herself to death, no matter how much she disliked her. Meanwhile Ruby would need looking after, and it was such a shame, as the girl had been gaining confidence recently and was even going out on her own. Perhaps that was what had started it; people would have begun to speculate who she was and why Winnie, not famous for her charity, had taken her in.

  Rita knew that none of her own family, who were among the very few who knew the truth, would have spread the news deliberately. But Empire Street was such a close-knit community; they were all living cheek by jowl in the terraced houses, and the walls were shakier than ever after all the bombing. There was no such thing as soundproofing and everyone knew everyone else’s business. It was perfectly possible that Dolly or Violet or Sarah had been overheard through an open window or door, and all it would have taken was one sentence and the word would have got round. Rita swore under her breath as she reached the bus stop. She didn’t want Ruby to be upset – she was becoming genuinely fond of the girl and knew that Michael and Megan thought the world of her. When they’d recently gone to the farm on Pop’s cart, the children had been beside themselves with delight to see her, and hadn’t wanted her to go. They’d only managed to leave when Pop and Rita had promised to bring her back again soon.

  A further reason to keep Ruby happy was her clever way of analysing the figures and the stock. She’d worked out when it was going missing and when it was likely to happen again if the pattern continued. Rita prayed the girl was right and they could do something about it. She broke off her train of thought as a bus drew up and she nodded to the conductor before sinking on to the unaccustomed luxury of a seat to herself. She looked out of the window as they passed the war-ravaged buildings, the shops and houses ruined by the May blitz. She counted forward in her mind to the next likely dates. If all went well, then one of them would be during Jack’s forthcoming leave. She sighed from the depths of her heart. If only she’d married Jack and not Charlie. If only Jack were here to help her with the incessant problems that beset her at every turn. How she needed him, what a comfort his loving arms would be. But she couldn’t have him. Her longing was suddenly so intense that she could hardly stand up to get off at her stop near the hospital. Enough of that, my girl, she told herself sternly. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it. But oh how she wished things had been different.

  For once the shift passed swiftly and without major incident, and Rita was reminded once again just how much she enjoyed her job. Even better, today she was on the same shift as her favourite colleague, Maeve Kerrigan. Maeve had a temper as fiery as her hair, but she’d learned to tame both, and was now a highly competent nurse. Rita could relax when she was around, knowing there would be no mistakes and everything that needed to be done would be done, and far more besides. Maeve took no nonsense from anybody, patients or staff, irrespective of their rank. Occasionally this annoyed those who didn’t know her well, particularly those of middle rank who felt they deserved respect purely because of their position. Maeve didn’t care. The lowliest private got the same diligent attention from her as a major general.

  ‘I reckon we’ve earned a few minutes to put our feet up,’ Maeve said, stacking the last of her reports in a neat pile ready to hand over to the next shift. ‘Wait till you see what I’ve brought with me.’

  Rita watched as Maeve reached into her locker and took out a tin. It was brightly coloured, if a little scratched. She opened it with a flourish. ‘Ta da! Seed cake!’

  ‘Ooh, where did you get that?’ Rita breathed. She hadn’t had any cake since she’d been to the farm. It was just too hard to get hold of sugar, eggs and butter. Things had been different when Kitty lived over the road, as she always seemed able to get a few ingredients and was famed for making something out of nothing. This was a rare treat.

  ‘My neighbour got it at a WVS sale, and then she got toothache and felt she shouldn’t risk it,’ Maeve said with delight. She found a knife and set about cutting them generous slices. ‘She likes me because I cleaned up some minor cuts she got from broken glass in a raid. One good turn deserves another, I’d say.’

  Rita nodded in agreement, but she couldn’t answer as her mouth was too full. It was a taste of heaven, and all the more welcome after the busy shift.

  ‘Have you heard anything from our Sid recently?’ Maeve went on. Sid, Nancy’s husband, was Maeve’s cousin. It had been a surprise to find that she was working alongside his sister-in-law, Rita. It meant that she sometimes had news of him to pass back to her family over in Ireland, who found Maeve a more reliable source of information than Sid’s morose mother.

  Rita brushed a crumb from her top lip. ‘Not really. Nancy got a letter via the Red Cross about a week ago, but there’s nothing new to say. He’s alive, he’s not being treated too badly, he wishes he could see Georgie. That’s about it.’

  ‘And how’s Nancy?’ Maeve wanted to know.

  ‘Oh, you know Nancy,’ Rita said with a laugh. ‘She’s carrying on much as normal. She’s still living with your auntie, but you wouldn’t know it from the amount of time she spends at Mam’s, and she’s always leaving Georgie there. Not that Mam or Violet object to that, of course. Still, Nancy’s living it up now. She’s only gone and got herself a volunteering position at the WVS station in the city centre. She’s quite an expert in showing visiting servicemen the ropes. She was telling me she’s offered to give them guided tours, particularly the US engineers who are over here because of the Lend Lease Agreement. She says it helps them to feel at home.’

  ‘Nice work if you can get it,’ said Maeve.

  ‘They seem to appreciate it, that’s for sure. If the amount of nylons she gets given are any measure of it, anyway,’ Rita added. ‘I can’t remember when I last had a new pair.’

  ‘Me neither,’ said Maeve, looking down at her sensible lisle stockings. ‘Not that I have any occasion to wear them. They’d be wasted around here, for a start.’

  ‘You’re right there.’ Rita sighed. ‘Sometimes I almost forget what it was like to get all dolled up and go out dancing. Not that I ever did much of that on account of having Michael so young.’

  ‘Your day might yet come,’ Maeve told her encouragingly. ‘Just think, when this war is over, your children might be almost old enough to look after themselves. They’ll probably be quite in
dependent after being evacuated. Then you’ll have time to go out and enjoy yourself – think of that.’

  Rita laughed and shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Well, yes, they’re learning heaps on the farm that they’d never have been able to at home, and Megan’s finally speaking up for herself. She’s beginning to write short letters, and she sends pictures – you should have seen the one she did of a dead chicken. Apparently a fox got it. She really went to town with all the blood everywhere.’ Rita felt anxious suddenly, remembering Megan’s words about the shadow man. Surely that couldn’t have anything to do with the dead bird? She tried to shake off her unease. ‘They’re spoilt rotten, though. Anyway, who would I go dancing with? If Charlie ever dares to show his face again, we won’t be going down the Grafton, that’s for certain.’

  ‘No news from Jack, then?’

  Rita sometimes wondered if it had been wise to have admitted to Maeve that she was still in contact with Jack, fearing that word could somehow get back to Empire Street and reach Winnie’s ears. But things were complicated enough as they were, without adding another layer of subterfuge. So she’d poured her heart out one time when they were on night shift, confessing how she felt and the impossibility of it all – but she’d left out the fact that Jack was actually Michael’s real father. That was a secret she would keep until Michael himself was ready to be told – if that ever happened. It certainly wouldn’t be while she was still married to Charlie, and she could see no way out of that which didn’t involve betraying every value she held dear.

  Now she pulled a wry face. ‘He’s due leave later this month. He’s told me the dates but we all know these things can change; it’ll all depend on what’s happening to the convoys in the Atlantic.’ She knew Jack would always put his duty as an experienced member of the Fleet Air Arm before anything else, and she would have it no other way. Then the sound of footsteps silenced her, as she had no intention of letting anyone else overhear their conversation. Jack’s precious letters were too sacred a secret to share any further.

  ‘Hello, hello, what’s all this?’ A warm voice came from the figure who had rounded the corner into the nurses’ welfare area.

  ‘Dr Fitzgerald!’ Maeve said. ‘I didn’t realise you were on duty or I’d have let you know in advance what I’ve brought in with me. Come and join us.’ Many nurses wouldn’t have dared to be so informal with any of the doctors, but Maeve wasn’t going to stand on ceremony. Besides, everyone knew that he was sweet on Rita’s friend Kitty. ‘Pull up a chair.’

  ‘Don’t mind if I do,’ said Elliott, happily accepting a slice of seed cake. ‘I’m due on shift in half an hour, but this will set me up properly. Much appreciated, I’m sure.’

  Rita put down her own plate with a sigh of satisfaction. ‘Good to see you, Doctor. It seems like ages since we were on the same shift. What have you been up to?’

  Elliott beamed. ‘Well, I’ve been covering lots of nights and putting in some extra hours so that I can have a long weekend and go away to London. I’ll be staying with my parents and, as I’m sure you know already, Nurse Kennedy, I intend to introduce them to Kitty. I’m certain they will love her.’

  ‘Of course they will!’ Rita couldn’t imagine anybody not loving her friend. ‘She sounds as if she’s doing so well, from her letters. To think that this time last year she was running the canteen, and now she’s living the high life … well, when she’s not on yet another training course.’

  ‘They work them hard all right,’ Elliott agreed. ‘But that’s typical Kitty, throwing herself into everything, making the most of every opportunity. I’m so proud of her.’ His warm eyes shone, and for a moment Rita wished she had somebody like Elliott to be proud of her like that. He was clearly very serious about Kitty. To begin with, she had wondered if he would last the course, or if he was just toying with her friend until someone of his own social class came along, but obviously she’d got that all wrong. He was genuinely thrilled to be introducing her to his parents. Also, he didn’t begrudge that she was living her own life far away from Liverpool, and approved of it thoroughly. Lucky Kitty.

  ‘Well, must be getting on,’ he said now. ‘There are some scheduled operations to attend to, so I’d better get scrubbed up. Thank you for the delicious cake. Tell you what, I’ll return the favour once I’m back from London, and then I can give you all Kitty’s news at the same time. How about that?’

  ‘It’s a deal,’ Rita assured him, thinking again that Kitty was a very fortunate girl. Elliott was not only kind and fun to have around, she had to admit he was good looking too, and plenty of nurses’ noses had been put out of joint when he’d chosen Kitty above any of them. But there was no doubt about it – Kitty was the only girl for him. That look in his eyes when he spoke of her couldn’t be faked. Even if her own life was lacking in love, Rita thought, things were going right for her friend at last.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  It had been a week since they’d talked their way into the hospital, and it felt like the longest seven days of Laura’s life. She didn’t count waiting for news of Freddy – that was a constant background ache that she could do nothing about. With Peter it was knowing that he was only a few miles away and, no matter what anyone said, he was in that hospital partly because of her. She couldn’t shake the guilt, the weight of it pressing her down with every step she took. People still came up to her and congratulated her for saving the baby, and it was agony to answer politely, thanking them and giving them a short version of what had happened. Even her usually brusque commanding officer had praised her, suggesting that Laura might be able to have half a day of extra leave in recognition of what she had done.

  Laura had refused as civilly as she could, but she had wanted to shout back at the very idea. The only thing that was keeping her going was being on duty. When she was driving she had to concentrate so hard to avoid potholes or roads closed for no reason, or cope with the lack of street signs and the poor-to-nonexistent lighting that she had no time to think of anything else. Plenty of other officers demanded that she be their driver, keen to boast that they’d been ferried about by the heroine of the hour. Some had wanted to make conversation, some wanted to flirt, but Laura didn’t react. Not that she would have done so anyway – flirting was strictly for when she was off duty. Now, though, she just didn’t have it in her to respond to any such overtures. The light-hearted banter and joking that she used to enjoy so much now seemed stupid and shallow.

  She had come to dread her free time. Whereas before she’d always been the one to organise trips to the cinema or Lyons Corner House, now she didn’t want to stray far from base in case she missed a phone call, or the admiral trying to get word to her by some other means. On the other hand, she couldn’t sit still, and would pace around the dormitory, canteen or common room with restless energy. It was making her a nervous wreck. It was making her bad-tempered with everyone, biting the head off anyone who tried to make light conversation, but everybody assumed it was a delayed reaction to the night of the fire and didn’t take offence. Laura wished someone would – a good old blazing row might help vent her mounting frustration. Yet all the people around her – from the canteen staff to her superior officers – just smiled and said they understood.

  The awful thing was of course that nobody did understand what was at the root of it all, not even her closest friends. She’d allowed them to carry on thinking that Peter was nothing special, that she was so upset because she’d chosen that particular route – and to some extent that was true. But underneath it all was the agony of not knowing what that expression had meant when he’d reached out to touch her, and the idea that he might die without her having the chance to find out. She had to know, she had to. Even if it was just a joke on his part, she would rather know. Yet it was likely that she never would. The longer the silence went on with no news from the hospital, the more the cold hand of dread closed around her heart. The infection must have taken hold and he must be fighting it. How long could he go on
doing that? Even if he was extremely fit to start with, wouldn’t the body have to give up sooner or later?

  Angrily she pushed a chair out of the way and almost ran down the corridor, desperate suddenly for fresh air. She would walk around the grounds, and then she could get rid of some of this useless energy that fizzed through her veins, but she’d be within reach when the vital message finally arrived. If it ever did.

  ‘Laura! Wait a minute!’ Kitty was hurrying after her. ‘Where are you off to in such a hurry?’

  Laura sighed and waited for her friend. ‘Oh, nowhere. Thought I’d take a stroll around the block, stretch my legs. Make the most of it being a fine day. What are you doing here? Have you finished early?’

  Kitty looked at Laura with concern. There were shadows under her eyes, and her hair, usually so glossy, hung lank around her gaunt face. ‘Yes, we’re meant to be learning about the most up-to-date telephone system, but the demonstration material got delayed and won’t be here until tomorrow, so they let us go. I thought they might make us do extra square bashing, but for once they didn’t.’

  ‘Good thing too,’ said Laura, trying to act normally. ‘We’re all pretty expert at bashing those squares by now.’

  ‘We are,’ Kitty agreed. ‘I’ll come with you if you don’t mind. I’ve been inside nearly all day and could do with some fresh air.’ She buttoned her uniform jacket, which she hadn’t had time to take off, and linked her arm through her friend’s. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you,’ she said as they stepped outside and the keen breeze hit their faces, ‘would I be able to borrow another frock? You said before you wouldn’t mind.’