A Dream to Share

  ‘You look nice. Where are you going?’ said her brother, smiling.

  She bobbed him a curtsey. ‘Thank yer kindly sir! I’ve got a couple of hours off, so I’m nipping along to David’s house and popping a note through the letterbox, asking him to meet me. Hopefully he can find the time to do so.’

  ‘He’ll be a fool if he lets you go, Em.’

  She gave a faint smile. ‘Fingers crossed. But before I go, tell me whether you’ve learnt anything so far, staying at the Kirks’?’ Chris told her about the exchange between himself and Mrs Kirk at the table and he showed her the drawing of Bert. Her mouth tightened. ‘That’s him to a T.’

  ‘Then you can leave him to me. Go and sort out your love life.’ He squeezed her shoulder, stepped inside the house and headed on upstairs.

  * * *

  Emma hesitated at the foot of the step, thinking of the reasons why she was doing this. David was strong where her father was weak. She found him physically attractive and he held views similar to her own… and, although, he could be forgetful at times, he could also be extremely thoughtful. Most of all, though, she thought she loved him. Taking a deep breath, she went up the step and without hesitation, pushed the envelope through the letterbox.

  She was almost at the bottom of the street when she heard running feet behind her and her name being called. She whirled round and saw David. His arm was in a sling and there was bruising on his face.

  She hurried towards him. ‘What’s happened to yer?’ she cried in distress, seizing the hand that held her letter and crushing it.

  ‘I was attacked,’ he said with a grim smile.

  She gaped at him. ‘Hell! Did yer see who attacked you?’

  ‘No. He came from behind.’

  ‘Have yer any idea who it was?’

  He shook his head. ‘It came out of the blue. I could understand it, if it had happened a year or so ago. I know I made enemies when we were striking for better working conditions and more money.’

  ‘Where did it happen?’

  ‘I was pushed down the station stairway and was no good for any­ thing for a week. If I didn’t know that swine, Bert, was in Australia, I’d have blamed him. Have you got time to come back to the house now? My stepmother’s out and it feels ages since I’ve seen you.’

  She gazed up into his face and reaching up a hand, gently caressed his cheek. ‘I’ll make the time,’ she said unsteadily.

  He kissed the fingers so close to his mouth and then with his undamaged arm about her shoulders, they walked back to the house.

  They sat on the sofa in the parlour and she nestled within David’s sound arm. Bringing down his face close to hers, she kissed him. In between kisses she told him that she was fed up of living without him and wanted to marry him as soon as she was twenty-one. He accepted her proposal and for a while after that there was little time for sensible thought or talk.

  Later, over a cup of tea and a sandwich, Emma told him how Mrs Black was convinced Bert was not in Australia. ‘If she’s right, then it could have been him who pushed you down those steps, just as he did Kenny; an act of revenge for you punching him in the face.’

  David glowered. ‘If that’s true then we’ve got to warn the others,’ he said.

  Emma nodded. ‘We can go to the yard first and tell Hanny.’

  ‘I’m coming with you. My arm might be broken but I’ll get the walking stick that belonged to my old Granny just in case we bump into Bert. I’m not going to let him get away this time.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  April, 1910

  ‘So Mrs Black could be right,’ said Hannah, gripping Kenny’s hand.

  ‘We don’t know for sure,’ he said hastily. ‘But it seems too much of a coincidence both David and I being pushed from behind down steps at railway stations for it not to be Bert.’

  ‘So what do we do about this?’ said Emma.

  ‘I’ll speak to Joy,’ said Hannah. ‘See what she thinks is the best way to approach Mother. She must know where he is.’

  ‘But will she tell you?’ said Kenny. ‘Without proof, she’ll refuse to believe him guilty.’

  ‘We’ve got to give her the chance to help us,’ said Hannah fiercely.

  ‘But if she refuses you’ll have put her on her guard and there’ll be no chance of her meeting Bert and Chris being able to follow her,’ cried Emma, banging her fist on the table.

  ‘She’s right,’ said David. ‘Once she knows we suspect him of being around, then she’ll stay away from him.’

  ‘So what do we do?’ said Hannah, exasperated. ‘I for one am going to find it difficult acting like nothing has changed. I’ll be looking over my shoulder all the time.’

  ‘There’s no need for that. He must have a job, so it’s unlikely he’ll be around weekdays,’ said Kenny. ‘If he’s going to try anything it’ll be evenings or Sunday. And they’re the times you don’t go out on your own.’

  ‘I’d go further than that,’ put in David. ‘None of the women or Tilly should be out on their own until we catch him. He could be working shifts.’

  They all looked at each other, aghast.

  Emma rose from her chair, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘I’d best get back to Victoria Crescent. On the way, we could slip into the car show room in Lower Bridge Street and let Seb know what’s hap­pened. He can tell Alice.’

  ‘At least she’s not alone in the house,’ said Hannah rapidly.

  David got to his feet and so did the other two.

  Hannah looked at Kenny and shook her head. ‘You don’t really want to come to Mother’s with me.’

  ‘I know you’ll be quicker without me, love, but I’d best go with you,’ he said.

  She did not argue with him.

  As soon as David and Emma had spoken to Seb, he closed the show­ room and went with them to Victoria Crescent. It came as something of a surprise to Seb and Emma to hear the sound of heated voices as they approached the two houses. ‘That’s Ma’s voice,’ said Seb, and put on a spurt. Emma realised the other voice belonged to Mrs Black and immediately guessed it was about the warning letter that Mrs Black’s solicitor had sent to the older Mrs Bennett. So, it appeared, did Seb. ‘I just hope Ma’s not tearing her hair out,’ he added.

  No sooner were the words out of his mouth, than they saw the two women. They were on the pavement close to Mrs Black’s gate. Alice was also there, nursing the baby. Several of the neighbours were peep­ing over their hedges or loitering just outside their gates. Seb marched up to his mother and said quietly, ‘In the house, Ma!’

  ‘Not until this woman says she’s sorry for threatening me and insulting me,’ shrieked Gabrielle.

  ‘I told only the truth,’ said Mrs Black, her dark eyes angry as she smoothed down her hair with a hand. ‘Your mother needs putting in a cage, Mr Bennett. She has the manners of an alley cat… but that’s not so surprising seeing as how that’s where she came from.’

  ‘You liar!’ Gabrielle lifted a hand but Seb caught hold of her and pulled her back against him.

  ‘Stop it, Ma! D’you want her to have you up for assault?’

  Gabrielle’s magnificent dark eyes flashed. ‘She wouldn’t dare! I could tell people things about her. How she came from the slums and worked her way up to where she is now.’

  Mrs Black smiled. ‘I’m not ashamed of where I came from. It’s pride I feel, Gertie, for what I’ve achieved.’

  ‘Gertie?’ exclaimed Alice.

  ‘That’s her real name,’ said Mrs Black. ‘We came from the same street and there was nothing she enjoyed better then making up stories and pretending to be someone else. And who could blame her?’

  ‘Is this true?’ asked Alice, glancing at her mother-in-law.

  ‘Lies! It’s all lies,’ said Gabrielle without conviction.

  Mrs Black said, almost dreamily. ‘She had a mother who liked the gin bottle too much and couldn’t cope with eight children. Her hus­band was away at sea most of the time. A nice singin
g voice Gertie had when she was young.’

  ‘That’s true,’ said Gabrielle.

  Mrs Black smiled. ‘She eventually made it to the stage. That’s where we met up again. My mother used to read the teacups and told fortunes at fairs. I don’t remember my father. I discovered I had a gift and was starting to make a name for myself. Gertie was glad to see a familiar face and when Thomas Waters was wracked with guilt, she introduced us and I fell for him… that was the end of any friendship between us. He insisted on me getting rid of my baby.’ There was a tremor in her voice and she swallowed before continuing. ‘But she refused because she was such a good Catholic girl despite being his mistress. Isn’t that true, Gertie?’

  Gabrielle nodded and her eyes were damp. ‘I loved him and I want­ed his child.’ She sighed. ‘I should never have come back here. I should have stayed in my little house in Liverpool and taken up good works at St Anthony’s. Instead I decided to try singing again, starting in a cou­ple of pubs where I was once popular… but things did not happen as quickly as I wanted them to and I lost heart; I was drinking as much as I was singing. Eventually I was arrested for being drunk and disorderly. I hit a policeman and that’s how I ended up in a Black Maria with Mrs Stone. I’ll leave straight away.’ Without glancing at her son, she walked up the path.

  Seb stared at Mrs Black in amazement and understanding. ‘Truth will out,’ she said softly.

  Emma couldn’t take her eyes off her. ‘You’re full of surprises, aren’t yer? I must say a few things make more sense now.’

  Mrs Black smiled. ‘You, Emma, not yer. But I’m glad you believe me… and that you’ve brought your young man to see me… for healing perhaps.’

  ‘I think my arm can heal itself, Mrs Black,’ said David, amused. ‘But we’re here because we think you could be right about Bert.’

  ‘Then you’d both best come in and bring me up to date,’ said Mrs Black with a satisfied gleam in her eye. ‘We’ll leave Mr and Mrs Bennett to sort out Gertie.’

  * * *

  Seb and Alice stood in the doorway of Gabrielle’s bedroom, watching her pack her things into a suitcase. ‘You don’t have to go, Ma. I’m not ashamed of your upbringing. You did well to make it on to the stage in the first place,’ said Seb.

  ‘You think I don’t know that,’ she said, without looking up. ‘Now get out of my room. I want to change into my best costume before I leave.’

  Against her better judgement but feeling sorry for her mother-in­-law, Alice said, ‘Seb’s right, Mrs Bennett. You don’t have to go. James needs a grandmother.’

  ‘It is kind of you to say so, Alice, but you’ll do better without me.’

  ‘What about the old lady, Ma?’ asked Seb in a low voice. ‘Are you going to desert her, as well?’

  Gabrielle stilled and then she moved swiftly and closed the door in their faces.

  Alice looked at Seb. ‘What do we do?’

  ‘Give her time to think,’ he said quietly, ‘Now I’ve another surprise for you.’

  ‘Has it anything to do with Emma and David? Are they getting mar­ried?’ asked Alice, a smile lighting her face.

  Seb shrugged. ‘I don’t know anything about that. What I do know is that David was pushed down the steps at the General Station and they think it might have been Bert.’

  Alice’s smile faded. ‘Bu – but it can’t be! He’s in Australia. He wrote to his mother telling her he was going.’

  ‘I know. But think, Alice. If you wanted someone to stop looking for you, what would you do if you were Bert?’ She did not speak and then blindly she reached out for him. He put his arms round her and she rested her head against his chest. ‘You mustn’t be scared,’ he said. ‘I’ll look after you.’

  ‘I’m not scared for myself.’ Alice lifted her head. ‘I’m not alone. Cook’s here as well as Mary. She knows what he looks like. But perhaps you should tell the police about your suspicions.’

  Seb smoothed back her auburn hair. ‘They can’t be everywhere. Besides, they’d want more proof than we’ve got. But apparently Emma’s brother is home from the army and he’s trying to find Bert. He’s actually lodging with the Kirks so as to keep an eye on Mrs Kirk, hoping she’ll lead him to him.’

  Alice nodded. ‘Then I’m not going to worry about Bert. If he’s still over here, then she’ll know where he is. I must stay calm for the baby’s sake. I’ll do what Hanny did… lock all the doors and windows and make sure he can’t get in.’

  ‘You won’t forget?’

  Alice said calmly, ‘I’m a mother now.’ For a moment she thought about Mrs Black and how she had sounded when she had spoken of having to get rid of her baby. For the first time ever, she felt some pity for the woman for never having had the pleasure of holding her child in her arms.

  * * *

  Eudora gazed out of the front window, watching David and Emma say­ing their goodbyes at the front gate. She wondered how much longer she would have the services of that young woman, guessing that wed­ding bells would soon be ringing out for the couple. She would miss Emma, but people had to move on and, perhaps after that public quar­rel and declaration, it was time for her to consider living elsewhere, too. She moved away from the window as Emma turned and began to make her way up the path. There was no rush. She would take her time searching for a suitable house. Perhaps with a sea view this time. But, before then, she would look forward to the next visit from Emma’s resourceful brother. Fancy his coming up with the idea of lodging with the Kirks. The young man showed plenty of promise and would be use­ful to have around.

  * * *

  The following Sunday morning, Chris left the Kirks’ house straight after breakfast, so as to get to Chester General Station before Mrs Kirk. She had mentioned last evening that she was visiting her cousin in Moreton but he doubted the truth of that since discovering what had happened to Emma’s David. Armed with last evening’s Wirral edition of the Liverpool Echo, he stood near the ticket windows, with his cap pulled forward, pretending to read the newspaper.

  Here was Mrs Kirk now! She was wearing a black hat with what appeared to be a whole blackbird’s wing as decoration. She carried a basket on her arm and seemed to be in a hurry. He strained his ears to hear her state her destination and a satisfied smile creased his sunburnt face. As soon as she was away from the window, he folded his newspa­per and hurried to buy a ticket. Then he raced up the metallic steps and across the overhead bridge to the platform where the train to Liverpool would be leaving in five minutes, unaware that he was being watched.

  On reaching the head of the steps going down to the platform where the train was waiting, he was in time to note which carriage Mrs Kirk entered. He chose the next one for himself to travel in. He was going to have to keep his eyes open when they reached Liverpool, as there were three stations where she might alight and he mustn’t lose sight of her.

  Fortunately he knew the port well. As a lad, he had run away from home and, before joining the army, had gone to Liverpool. Living on his wits, he’d run errands for those visiting the city by train or ship. Susannah Kirk did not alight at James Street or Exchange Station in Liverpool, so he was prepared when the train reached its destination at Central Station to give her a few minutes’ headstart before climbing down from the carriage. Despite being a small woman who could easi­ly be lost in a crowd, he was able to keep his eye on her as she made her way to the turnstile because of that black hat.

  He was not far behind her as she left the station and turned into Ranelagh Street in the direction of Church Street. Any other day, the pavements would be packed with workers, shoppers and pickpockets, the roads jammed with horse drawn carts, motor vehicles, trams and bicycles. Today the streets were Sunday quiet with just a few window­ shoppers and the occasion vehicle, tram or bicycle. He knew he was going to have to keep a reasonable distance behind her, so as to be cer­tain that she would not spot him if she suddenly turned round.

  She bobbed along, her black skirts brushing the ground, remindin
g him of a clockwork toy. She reached the gates of Liverpool’s parish church of St Peter, situated opposite the twin-towered Compton Hotel, and entered the grounds.

  Chris swore under his breath before going through the open gates. The soot-begrimed bulk of the church lay ahead of him but Mrs Kirk had already vanished from sight. She could have entered the church or hurried up the side to the gardens at the rear. There she would find benches for people to relax on and enjoy this green oasis in the heart of the town. He should have looked at the board displaying the times of services, but as he couldn’t hear any hymn singing he presumed the morning service was over. Still it could be quiet because people were praying. He didn’t dare go inside. From his experience of church, he knew that even if he was on tiptoe, someone would hear him and heads would turn. So he chose to stay out in the fresh air. Directing his gaze downwards so his face was partially hidden by his cap, he made his way to the gardens to the rear.

  Almost immediately he spotted Mrs Kirk’s hat. She was sitting on a bench the other side of a triangular flowerbed planted with tulips and wallflowers. Her back was towards him so she faced the sun. Next to her sat a man wearing a straw boater tipped forward so that Chris could clearly see the neatly cut fair hair in the nape of his neck. He had pow­erful shoulders and dwarfed the woman. If it came to a fight, he would­n’t be a pushover, that was for sure, thought Chris grimly, recalling what Joy had said.

  Noticing an empty bench, facing the opposite direction to them, Chris strolled over to it. He wouldn’t be able to watch but hopefully he could hear them talking and, when they got up to leave, he could fol­low. He sat down on the sun-warmed timber and, closing his eyes, held his face up to the sun.

  ‘You make lovely sandwiches, Mother… and you’ve brought my favourite cake. You’re a marvel.’ There was affection in Bert’s voice.

  ‘I worry. I worry that widow you lodge with doesn’t feed you prop­erly,’ said Susannah loudly. Chris guessed she was going deaf and because of that, did not pitch her voice at a normal level. ‘I wish you could come home.’