‘If she is, can you blame her? It’s lovely you are!’
Maureen’s chest visibly swelled. ‘I was thinking I was losing my looks. I was thinking I’m not getting any younger. It really upset me, the fire and our Mick’s death. I felt it aged me ten years.’
‘Never! But if you’re feeling like that then a week in Wales will do you a world of good.’ Barney squeezed her hand between both of his and, raising it to his lips, kissed the tips of her fingers. ‘And I’ll make you a promise now to take a day off and come and visit you.’
Much to Lucy’s relief those words changed her mother’s mind. All they had to do now was wait for Winnie to come up trumps and provide the money.
Chapter Ten
The sun shimmered on the river as Lucy and Timmy raced ahead of their mother down the floating roadbridge to the Pierhead. It took some skill, avoiding the vehicles which queued for the luggage boat that would take them across the river. There had been talk for years of a tunnel being built under the Mersey because of such tail-backs but it had yet to materialise. Timmy was so excited he hardly stopped talking, continually asking questions about Llandudno which Lucy could not answer. In the end he ran back to Maureen, who was carrying the suitcase Barney had loaned them, but she only replied, ‘Wait and see.’
Being patient was not easy for either Lucy or Timmy. This was a real holiday, unlike the brief one they’d spent in Ireland. As soon as they were aboard the steamer Lucy led the way up to the top deck so they could gaze at the ships being loaded at the docks. At Seaforth the new Gladstone dock had yet to be completed. Seagulls screeched overhead, dipping and gliding. Dredgers were busily employed in keeping the channels from silting up between the sandbanks.
Once past the bar they were out in the Irish Sea and a stiff breeze got up, whipping Lucy’s hair about her face. The salt-laden air was fresh, even a little on the chilly side, making her feel as if she was being doused in cold water, having her sins washed away. It made her feel clean all over. Surely God would forgive her? She hadn’t meant Mick to die and after all it was the fire that had really done for him. She hadn’t been responsible for paraffin being stored under the bed.
‘I think I’ll go down below,’ said her mother. ‘You’ll keep your eye on Timmy, Lucy?’
The girl nodded and looked round for her brother. He was kneeling beside an elderly woman, stroking her dog and chattering away to her with all the chirpiness of a sparrow. Lucy smiled, thinking that this holiday was just the ticket to get them all on their feet, ready to face the future. She had to forget the past. She started concentrating on what they might do in the days ahead: building sandcastles and paddling in the sea; eating big meals for once instead of skimpy ones. Funds had been provided for full board in a guest house for a whole week. They’d even been given pocket money.
Lucy had been amazed by the speed with which everything had happened. As a result of Winnie’s interference the plan to send Lucy to Miss Griffiths’ relatives had been dropped. A trust fund which had been set up to provide holidays for overworked mothers and their children had paid for a family trip instead. Even so Barney had given a florin to Lucy and a sixpence to Timmy. They had thanked him profusely. Aunt Mac had also been generous, providing Lucy and Timmy with secondhand outfits from Paddy’s Market. ‘We can’t have you looking like scruffs and shaming us,’ she’d said gruffly. Even the weather promised to hold fair for them.
Now Lucy gazed dreamily at the Welsh coast, thinking of dragons and castles. A young man came and stood a foot or so away from her and she found herself weighing him up. Was he the dependable type? You just couldn’t go by looks, she thought sadly, thinking of the young Mick in the photograph on the mantelshelf. Once more her heart felt leaden. She forced herself to concentrate on the view. A moment later the young man was joined at the rail by a young woman. So much for thinking he might start chatting me up, thought Lucy wryly.
But soon she found herself listening with interest as he extolled the attractions of each seaside resort on the North Welsh coast: Rhyl… Abergele… Colwyn Bay… Llanfairfechan, near Conway with its castle and bustling harbour. There was no doubting the man’s love for his homeland and she remembered what Rob had said about such patriotism. Her emotions were confused whenever she thought about him, which was too often for her peace of mind. She had not seen him since he had visited her in hospital and in a way that was a relief for how could she look him in the face with him knowing what he did about her? Why couldn’t she have kept her big mouth shut!
At last they reached their destination. Llandudno was situated on a wide sweep of a bay. Barney had told them it had once been a fishing village but was now the largest of the Welsh resorts. They disembarked at the pier to find the son of their landlady waiting with a horse and trap to ferry them and their luggage to the guest house on Mostyn Street.
He winked at Lucy and she thought a flirtation might be in order but when he spoke his Welsh accent was so strong she knew they would have difficulty understanding each other. He was much too young for her anyway. She preferred a real man, and again found herself thinking of Rob and Mick and what constituted a real man.
As they bowled along her mother compared the place to Liverpool. There had been no scruffy, bare-footed youths fighting to carry their bags, such as you’d find at the Pierhead, and the air was sweet, smelling of sea and countryside. It seemed another world, just like Ireland had.
No sooner were their belongings unpacked and they had washed their hands and face in the flower-sprigged bowl in their room than a gong sounded below.
‘What’s that?’ Timmy had wrapped himself in the lambs-wool rug on the floor and was pretending to be a sheep.
‘It’s telling us it’s time to eat,’ said his mother, smoothing the lace collar on her black frock as she gazed at her reflection in the dressing-table mirror.
The trip from Liverpool had taken just over two hours and lunch was about to be served. Lucy couldn’t wait.
The landlady served fish caught only that morning, boiled potatoes and green peas, and there was to be pudding as well. The sea air had put a real edge on Lucy’s appetite and she ate the lot. Feeling stuffed to the gills by the time she’d finished, she decided if every meal was going to be as good as this one then the holiday would be perfect.
It was perfect. There was the occasional sea mist in the early morning but it was nothing compared to the fogs which could envelop the streets of Liverpool come winter. It soon evaporated and the sun shone.
Every morning after breakfast Maureen insisted they walk around the shops or along the promenade but afterwards they spent most of the day on the beach. Lucy helped Timmy build sandcastles as best she could with one hand, her arm still being sore, but most of the time she lazed in the sun, reading Florence Barclay’s The Rosary, reputed to have been read and wept over by every housemaid in the British Isles. She could see why and would have preferred a happier read but it was a library book and there was no way she could change it on holiday.
The highlight of their week was the two whole days, not one, which Barney spent with them. He took them up the Great Orme on the railway where they could see right across the sea to Anglesey. They also went to the Pier Pavilion Theatre. Maureen sparkled in his company, laughing as she hadn’t done for a long time. Lucy noticed that finally they’d dropped the formality of surnames and were on first-name terms. They held hands as they walked along the promenade and Lucy knew that all that was needed to make this holiday utterly unforgettable was for him to pop the question.
Whether he did or not Lucy was not to know but she guessed he must have said something promising because after his departure her mother sat staring into space with a tiny smile playing round her mouth.
Two days later they caught the steamer back to Liverpool. The next day was Sunday and to Lucy’s surprise Maureen suggested they attend St George’s church. Lucy stared at her, thinking Dilys and her aunt would be there. Perhaps Rob, too. Could she depend on him not to have me
ntioned what she had told him to his sister? ‘I’d rather not,’ she muttered.
Her mother frowned at her reflection in the mirror as she twisted a curl round her finger and patted it into place. ‘I want you with me. I won’t have the nerve to do it without you.’
‘Then why do it at all?’ Lucy clasped her shaking hands together. ‘You’re a Catholic.’
Maureen made an exasperated sound in her throat. ‘Use your commonsense. You like Barney, don’t you? I’m sure, like me, you’d find it comfortable living under his roof. I’m sick of struggling to make ends meet and waiting for Callum to show sense. Wasn’t it lovely having that holiday in Wales? Wasn’t it grand when Barney was with us? I’m thinking if I go to his church he’ll see there’s nothing to keep us apart. I’ve even thought of sending Timmy to St George’s school. It would make sense with us living so near.’
‘Even so,’ said Lucy, picking up the Sunday paper, ‘I’d rather not go.’
Maureen slammed a fist down on the table. ‘You’ll do as I say! This could change our lives. So get yourself ready.’
Lucy backed down, hoping to get in and out of church before anyone could speak to her.
It was obvious their presence at St George’s pleased Barney. Lucy could see no sign of Rob, and was relieved, but Dilys and her aunt were there and so were Owen and his mother. They were all members of the choir and she had to give them their due, the singing was glorious. Afterwards she was unable to escape swiftly because her mother made a beeline for Barney. At the same time Dilys and her aunt spotted Lucy and expressed their delight to see her, asking how she had enjoyed herself in Wales and what she was doing in their church.
Lucy realised her fears were unfounded. ‘It was lovely,’ she said, returning their smiles. ‘And Mam liked the Welsh so much she decided we had to come here and listen to you singing.’
‘Can you sing, Lucy?’ asked Dilys eagerly. ‘You should join our choir.’
Lucy was alarmed, knowing if she was roped into the choir there was no getting out of coming to church every week. Rob was bound to come some time and she was best avoiding him. She told them her singing was only fit for the cat’s ears, which made them laugh. Then Owen came up and asked what was so funny. Lucy hastily excused herself and left. Things had gone better than she had expected but that didn’t mean that next time they would, too. Her own guilt had weighed heavy on her when it had come to the general confession. Yet it was so easy to confess your sins and be absolved in the Protestant church. No need to squirm alone in the confessional.
Her mother was not pleased when Lucy made no move to get ready for church the following week. ‘I want you with me. This isn’t easy for me, you know! I’m doing it for you and Timmy.’
Lucy wondered if that was true but accepted her mother’s words at face value and once again gave in and went with her. She did not feel so bad the second time, especially as the sermon was about forgiveness and Jesus being like a shepherd, caring for his lost sheep. The thought comforted her. Sometimes she felt very lost and alone.
Money was still a problem in the Linden household. By asking around Lucy managed to find herself an evening job, cleaning offices down by the Pierhead, and what with that and her firewood round she managed to start putting a little aside again most weeks.
She had wondered why Rob had not been in church but put it down to his working long hours because of his job. His being a plain clothes detective reminded her of her grandfather talking about the time there had been uproar in Liverpool when a chief constable had first introduced plain-clothed policemen to mingle in pubs and clubs in an attempt to cut down on drunkenness and gambling. She presumed that was still part of a detective’s job on a Saturday night.
So the months passed and Lucy and her mother became familiar faces at St George’s. Lucy caught sight of Rob only twice during that time and he vanished before any words could be exchanged between them. She wished she knew what he made of their being there but did not like to ask Dilys. There was only one person who didn’t appear pleased to see them and that was Winnie. Lucy waited for her mother to break the news to her that Barney had popped the question, but waited and waited in vain.
In December it seemed like the troubles in Ireland had come to an end at last when a treaty was signed in London making Ireland a free state. Michael Collins, the leader of the IRA, said that it would give the Irish people the freedom to win freedom. Lucy wondered if Callum would come home to Liverpool and wished Barney would make a move but Christmas came and still Maureen didn’t wear his ring.
Early in 1922 Barney took the whole family to the pantomime at the Rotunda Theatre. Lucy thought, This is it! He’s asked Mam to marry him and they’re going to break the news to us. But that proved to be wishful thinking.
When they arrived home from the pantomime her mother threw herself into a chair and sat with her chin in her hand, gazing moodily at the embers of the fire. ‘The man’s dithering! It’s that Winnie. He doesn’t want to upset her, but it’s time he told her to go. The trouble is he’s just too nice for his own good.’
Lucy agreed. But what could they do? She herself often felt restless, as if she was marking time, waiting for something to happen in her own life that would rid her of her guilt. She had started to make sweets again but standing outside picture houses at this time of year and then cleaning offices, just like selling firewood on the streets, was no picnic and certainly not a quick way to get rich. But then, most people in Liverpool didn’t have enough food to keep body and soul together and she knew she should be thankful for what she had. Times were hard and the ranks of the unemployed were growing every day.
One day Lucy felt drawn to her old area so made her way down to Bostock Street. She had not been there since the fire and as she came out of the passage into the court a couple of women glanced her way. One smiled and asked how she was. ‘OK. I never thought I’d miss this place and…’ She glanced about her and knew she’d been mad to come. Perhaps she’d come to lay a ghost. She still had nightmares about that day her uncle had died. She gazed up at the remains of her old home. Its walls were blackened by smoke and the window frames and door were completely gone. She went and climbed the steps.
‘Yous be careful, luv!’ shouted one of the women. ‘Some say it’s haunted. Don’t yous be going inside unless yer want it to come crashing down on yer!’
Haunted? Lucy felt a prickle at the back of her neck. She could hear the wind whistling down the chimney. Was that her uncle screaming at her to save him? She heard what sounded like footsteps and didn’t hang around but beat a hasty retreat.
By the time she reached Northumberland Terrace she had calmed down, only to come face to face with Owen.
He was wearing a suit and looked reasonably smart. ‘Well, if it isn’t Lucy Locket, all alone for once, getting grown up and beginning to look good.’
‘You can stick your compliments,’ she said, with a toss of the head. ‘I still haven’t forgiven you for pinching my round.’
‘That’s old news.’ He lit a cigarette and blew smoke in her face, causing her to step back. ‘I did you a good turn. I’ve seen you selling your wood and your toffee apples. I broke the mould, made you think of other ways to make money. I have thought, though, maybe you and me should go into business together.’
She screwed up her face and looked at him incredulously. ‘Business? You and me? You have to be joking! I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you.’ She turned and walked away.
He followed her and seized hold of her wrist. She struggled to free herself but he yanked her other arm and pulled her round to face him. ‘Now listen to me, I’m serious.’
He looked it, too, but if he thought she was going to get involved in anything to do with him he’d have to think again. ‘I don’t want to listen! Let me go!’
Suddenly a voice Lucy recognised said, ‘You heard the girl! Let her go!’ A hand caught Owen on the side of the face and knocked him off balance. Callum stood gazing down at him.
‘Scram before I catch you another clout, me laddo.’
Owen got to his feet and glowered at him. ‘You had no right to do that. Who are you anyway?’
‘It doesn’t matter who he is,’ said Lucy with a grin. ‘You just beat it.’
Owen’s eyes met hers. ‘You’ll regret turning my offer down. See you in church.’ He swaggered off.
Lucy turned to Callum and her expression changed. ‘What are you doing here?’ she said, thinking the last thing she wanted was him coming between her mother and Barney again.
Callum tucked his hands into his pockets and smiled down at her, rocking backwards and forwards on his heels. ‘Now don’t be like that, Luce. Didn’t I just play the knight in shining armour and rescue you from that lad’s attentions?’
She could not deny that. ‘What d’you want?’ Her voice was a little friendlier because she had changed her mind. Maybe a bit of competition might egg Barney on to make a move in the direction of marriage.
‘To see your Mam, of course. If you’ll be so good as to show me where you’re living now.’
She was unsure of her ground here. ‘I’m not certain Mam’ll want to see you.’
‘Aw! Your mammy doesn’t know what she wants. Her middle name should have been Contrary. I know she’s still seeing that piano player and going to his church. Ma’s not pleased about that.’
Lucy bristled, not liking to hear Barney being referred to in such a way. He was much more than just a piano player. ‘And if she is, what’s it to do with you? You’ve been in Ireland for I don’t know how long and we’ve got on very well without you. They’ve made us very welcome.’
Callum scowled. ‘Don’t cheek me, girl! I’m telling you, she’ll be happier with me than him. It’s only his money she’s after.’
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