The Lost Daughter of Liverpool: A heartbreaking and gritty family saga (The Mersey Trilogy Book 1)

by Pam Howes

  She shivered and went back to the sofa and pulled a knitted blanket around her shoulders. The mug of tea she’d brewed earlier had a skin on top and the sight of it made her gag. She took a couple of deep breaths, fighting the need to be sick again. The effort made beads of sweat form on her brow and she sighed, wondering what the heck was causing this nausea. She hoped it wasn’t a sign that something was wrong with her baby. The doctor had prodded and poked her and listened to its heartbeat the other day and told her everything was okay.

  She remembered a girl at work a couple of years ago who’d suffered a lot of sickness and her baby had been born with a hole in his back and some of his innards on the outside of his body. The poor little man had only survived a couple of days and the hospital had told his mother that he’d developed something called spina bifida while he was growing inside her. No one at work had ever heard of it and speculation was that something in the air from Hitler’s bombs must have caused it. Dora lay back on the cushions and closed her eyes, her arms folded protectively over her growing bump. If the roads were passable tonight maybe Joanie and Frank would pop over for an hour or two and cheer her up with their wedding plans. They’d decided on a date, the last Saturday in May, and had already booked the church where she and Joe had married. She’d be huge by then with the baby, but Joanie was still insisting she be her matron of honour.

  Joe stamped the snow from his boots on the mat and hung his coat on a peg in the hall. He cocked his ear for the sound of the wireless but there was nothing other than the eerie silence that a snow-filled street brings, and the air in the bungalow felt chilly. He pushed open the sitting room door to see Dora snuggled under a blanket, asleep on the sofa, and the fire on its last legs. The curtains were still wide open and there was no light on. He wondered how long she’d been asleep. She felt cold to the touch and he hurried into the bedroom and took a blanket from the bed. He tucked it around her, drew the curtains and switched on the lamp. He raked the fire and twisted some old newspapers together to encourage the embers and threw a shovel of coal on once he’d got them going. The room soon felt warm again.

  Dora stirred and opened her eyes. She looked a bit puzzled, but then smiled with recognition.

  ‘Hiya, darling.’ He gave her a kiss. ‘Did you wonder where you were? Would you like something to eat? Your mam left a pan of lentil soup yesterday for us. It might do you good to try it.’

  She nodded and pulled herself into a sitting position. ‘How long have you been home?’

  ‘Only about ten minutes.’ He busied himself in the kitchen and heated up the soup. Dora’s mam had also left a fresh loaf of bread. He cut a few slices and spread them with margarine, wondering how he’d manage without her mam. She’d been coming most days since Dora had taken ill with the sickness again, to make sure her daughter was okay while he went back to work and to make her drink plenty of fluids as instructed by the doctor, who’d told him that if the sickness continued she’d become dehydrated and would end up being taken into hospital and put on a drip. She wouldn’t like that. He’d managed to get a few extra days off work after the holidays, but too long a break would be frowned upon. He couldn’t afford to lose his job now as Dora was only paid from Palmer’s when she worked and there was no other money coming in apart from his band money.

  There were rumours of job cuts at the ROF and that worried him. If they lost their home he didn’t know what they’d do. And the weather forecaster on the dinnertime news at the factory had announced the worst weather in over a hundred years was about to hit the country. More heavy snows were due, with freezing temperatures. Dora’s mam wouldn’t be able to get here and he hated leaving her alone all day. Maybe he could ask Dolly Parker to keep an eye on her occasionally. Joe stirred the soup and sighed. Hadn’t they all had enough to contend with the last few years? The bloody war and all that came with it; and now, just as the country seemed to be getting on its feet, weather that threatened to shut everything down. Dora was isolated when he was at work, but what could he do? He couldn’t expect anyone to trek over in this and most of their friends were at work during the day, if they could get there.

  She was supposed to see the doctor this week about the baby, but there was no way of her getting to the surgery on her own. Maybe if he phoned them tomorrow, they might be able to send a midwife out to see her. He’d rung his mum from work to let her know he was back in but that Dora still wasn’t too good. He’d been surprised at how concerned she’d seemed. But then again, Dora was carrying her grandchild, although there was no offer forthcoming to call round and sit with her.

  ‘You need to get a telephone fitted, Joe,’ she’d said. ‘Then it’s there for emergencies. If you arrange it, I’ll stand the cost.’ She’d been thrilled by their baby news on Boxing Day, which seemed like a lifetime ago now. He hadn’t discussed them getting a phone yet with Dora. But he’d do it tonight if she was up to it. At least then he could call her each day at dinnertime to make sure she was all right and to remind her to drink plenty of boiled water.

  He poured the soup into two bowls and carried Dora’s through on a tray, balancing it on her knees. He brewed a pot of tea, put two mugs on the coffee table, switched on the wireless and joined her with his own tray.

  ‘Will you help me to have a bath and wash my hair after tea?’ she asked, taking a spoonful of soup. ‘And, Joe, I’ve decided I don’t want to have any more sedatives. I know they stop the sickness but they make me feel so sleepy and I can’t think straight. I hate the feeling. I’m also worried that they’re not good for the baby.’

  ‘Okay, love.’ He wasn’t sure if stopping them was the right thing to do without asking the doctor first, but he’d sort that out tomorrow when he phoned the surgery. The fact that she even wanted to get in the bath was a good sign, as she’d neglected herself for a while and that wasn’t like Dora, who was normally fastidious about smelling nice and fresh and having clean, shiny hair. He took the tray from her and sighed. She’d barely touched the soup.

  Dora opened the front door to the young midwife, who smiled and introduced herself as Nurse Dawson. The midwife removed her snowy boots and left them on the mat, and followed Dora down the hall into the warm sitting room, carrying a large black bag in with her.

  ‘Would you like a hot drink?’ Dora offered.

  ‘I’d love one, thank you. It looks lovely in here.’ She took off her coat and put it over a chair arm. ‘May I sit down?’

  ‘Please do.’ Dora gestured to the sofa and hurried out to the kitchen, bringing back a tray with two cups of tea and a plate with one of her mam’s cheese scones.

  ‘Oh, what a treat,’ Nurse Dawson said. ‘Did you bake it?’

  Dora shook her head. ‘My mam did.’

  They sat in companionable silence while the midwife finished her snack. Dora cleared the tray away as Nurse Dawson opened her bag and took out a large buff envelope.

  ‘Doctor Owens told me you’ve suffered bad bouts of all-day sickness for quite some time now,’ she said, removing a sheaf of papers. ‘And that you’ve opted to stop taking the sedatives he prescribed.’

  Dora nodded. ‘I feel less fuzzy-headed now I’ve stopped, but I can’t win. I’m queasy from the minute I get up to the minute I go to bed.’ She didn’t know which was the easiest to deal with, sickness or fuzziness. She was desperate to get back to work once the weather started to improve, but feeling as she did right now, she knew she’d never be able to cope with the journey, never mind anything else.

  Nurse Dawson smiled sympathetically. ‘Yes, it’s a difficult one. Hopefully the sickness will stop of its own accord, although there have been cases where it carries on until the end of the pregnancy. We just need to keep an eye on you and make sure your body is getting enough fluid. Plenty of boiled water and soups, and perhaps some jelly if you feel like something sweet now and again. If you fancy a biscuit with a cuppa, try ginger snaps. Ginger’s good for settling sickness. But do keep trying to eat, little and often.’

 
; Dora chewed her lip anxiously. ‘I just wondered, the sickness doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with my baby, does it? It’s not a sign of a problem, or anything? It’s just that a girl I used to work with had a baby born with a hole in his back. She was sick a lot like me.’

  ‘No, love. I think this is just your hormones. Believe me, I understand your worries, but with a bit of luck, one day you’ll get up and it will be gone. Now I’m going to take some details and then we’ll discuss your antenatal care and where you’ve decided you’d like to give birth. I expect you’ve talked that over with your husband already?’

  Dora shrugged. She and Joe hadn’t actually talked about the birth at all. She’d just not felt in the mood. ‘My mam did say that if I have it at home, she’d be here with me.’

  ‘It’s up to you, of course. You can have baby here, and I’ll attend the delivery, or we can make arrangements for you to go into our own maternity home. Can I take a quick look around while I’m here? I’ve delivered a few babies on this estate so I’m quite used to the layout of the bungalows, but I need to put it on my notes that I’ve actually looked.’

  ‘Of course.’ Dora led the way into the main bedroom and the bathroom and the midwife nodded her approval. The door to the sewing room stood open and Nurse Dawson pointed towards the room. ‘And will that be baby’s room eventually?’

  Dora chewed her lip. ‘It will be, in time. It’s currently a workroom, or it was. I just haven’t felt up to doing anything since New Year.’ She fought to hold back the tears but they ran down her cheeks as she showed the midwife inside the room. She found herself crying at the least little thing lately. ‘It was to be the start of a new future for me and my best friend.’ She told Nurse Dawson of her and Joanie’s plans.

  The midwife nodded. ‘And does Joanie still wish to carry on with the business?’

  Dora half-smiled through her tears. ‘Oh yes, she does. We’ve got her wedding dress to make soon. But she also knows how horrible I’ve been feeling lately.’

  ‘Well why don’t you give it a try on a day when you’re feeling a bit better? Sometimes it can be mind over matter with things. If you’re occupied it takes your mind off feeling rotten. It will keep you busy. You can’t go far at the moment, in this awful weather, so make something for yourself, or for the baby. Don’t do too much to start with and then you’ll feel ready for tackling your friend’s wedding dress.’

  ‘I might do that. I felt dizzy sitting at the machine last time I tried. I’m really hoping to go back to work at the factory for a few months before the baby arrives, but they won’t let me use a machine while I’m feeling dizzy.’

  ‘In time, my dear, in time.’

  Back in the lounge Nurse Dawson finished writing up her notes, checked Dora’s blood pressure, which she announced was normal, and packed everything back in her bag. ‘If you decide on a home birth I’ll fetch the delivery pack round in a few weeks’ time. Hopefully this weather won’t last for much longer, although I heard it’s been forecast until March.’ She shook her head. ‘That makes for a very long winter.’

  ‘It does, and it’s difficult for visitors to get here. The buses have stopped running and it’s hard for the likes of my mam to walk on the snow. I’d be frightened of her falling and breaking something. I feel a bit cut off. We’re supposed to be having a phone put in soon. My husband’s arranging it.’

  ‘That’ll be handy for when baby’s on the way,’ Nurse Dawson said.

  Dora said goodbye and saw her out. She thought about what the midwife had said and knew she was right; she needed to distract herself. Dora went back into the sewing room and sat on the chair in front of her treadle machine. Making something for the baby would be a nice start. For the first time in weeks she felt a buzz of enthusiasm. Joanie would be glad to hear that as she wanted them to start working on her wedding dress. Hopefully she’d come over this week with Frank if the roads weren’t too bad, and with a bit of luck she’d have possession of the silky material Frank was supposed to be getting for the dress lining. She’d already got some white Guipure lace that was similar to her own wedding dress.

  CHAPTER 13

  The bad winter dragged on and once the snow started to melt, floods occurred in parts of the country that had already suffered when cut off by snow drifts. News bulletins reported that it was the coldest winter the UK had suffered for three centuries. Herds of animals froze out in the fields and starved to death, creating another meat shortage. There had been power disruptions to homes and Dora and Joe had sat at night with candles burning several times. The fridge had defrosted, each time leaking water all over the kitchen floor, and Dora had struggled on her hands and knees to mop it up. When the power was on, radio programmes were limited; some magazine publishers were ordered not to print for a few weeks and newspapers were cut in size. Towards the end of February there was further fear of food shortages as vegetables were frozen into the ground. Mid-March brought the worst of the widespread flooding and again the country came to a standstill, with roads and railways affected and many homes and businesses damaged by the floods.

  By the beginning of April the weather had improved and Dora’s sickness had stopped completely, just as the midwife had told her it would. She felt almost human again and anxious to get back to work. Joanie met her off the bus the first day and they walked into Palmer’s together. Her workmates greeted her warmly and Jack Carter asked if she was sure she felt up to it.

  ‘I’m fine, Jack,’ she said, smiling. ‘I know I won’t be here for long, but it’s good to be back.’ She’d be finishing in May, so she only had a few weeks to go anyway and it was nice to have the company again. She’d spent some of her time at home working on Joanie’s wedding dress, and it was looking lovely.

  Dora’s bump had grown so big while she’d been off ill that she felt like an elephant and found it awkward to balance on her factory seat and reach across to her machine. Mam had joked that there must be more than one in there but the midwife had just smiled and shaken her head. She said it was probably because Dora’s appetite had come back and she was eating for two again, making up for all the weeks on her liquid diet.

  She and Joanie had tackled a couple of simple skirt orders last week, but the tiredness was overwhelming at night and Joe had put his foot down about her doing too much. There was no question of her coming back to Palmer’s after the birth, as speculation was that they would definitely be closed by the end of September. The new rep had only managed to secure two shirt orders and had been fired within weeks. George Kane had been reported as saying he was a waste of good money to employ and they would have got those orders in anyway. It was dresses and other ladies’ fashion contracts he’d been after, not more shirts. But time and money were running out and although no firm date had been set for closure, they all knew it was looming.

  Dora hung onto Joanie’s arm as she was led blindfolded into Palmer’s canteen. It was the afternoon tea break and Jack had agreed they could all have an extra fifteen minutes today as it was Friday afternoon and Dora’s final day at work before she finished for the birth of her baby.

  ‘Are you ready?’ Joanie whipped off her blindfold as a cheer went up. The small workforce was gathered in the canteen. Someone yelled ‘Speech!’

  ‘Give her a minute,’ Joanie yelled back, laughing. She led Dora to a table set out with plates of Spam sandwiches and little iced buns, courtesy of Mavis. The table next to it was decorated with bunting left over from the end-of-war parties, and piled high with gaily wrapped parcels.

  Mavis bustled over with the tea trolley and handed out mugs of her welcome brew.

  ‘All the very best, chuck.’ She planted a kiss on Dora’s cheek. ‘Just make sure you bring that babby in to see us as soon as you can.’

  ‘Oh I will, definitely,’ Dora said, smiling. She shook her head as she looked around. All the secrecy and whispering behind her back this week and she’d not had a clue what they were up to. She sat down and the rest of the girls followed
suit and tucked into the food.

  ‘Bet you’re glad to see this day at last?’ Peggy said and blew on her hot tea to cool it.

  Dora, her mouth full of sandwich, nodded. She swallowed and took a sip of tea. ‘But I’ll miss you all. You must come and visit when the baby arrives. Joanie will let you know when it does. And I’ll definitely pop in for a visit when I’m over at my mam’s house.’ She meant what she said, she really would miss her friends at Palmer’s, but it would be a relief to work from home again with a new baby to look after as well. Besides, there would be no job to come back to here, and like Joe had said recently, it was up to him as the man of the house to take care of his wife and child. It was what men did. He didn’t mind her doing some work at home and she was glad of that as she liked to keep a bit of independence and earn her own money. But it would also be nice to be taken care of by Joe. She felt very lucky as she had the best of both worlds.

  Joanie passed her some of the parcels and Dora opened the first one, her eyes filling with tears as she looked at the beautiful knitted matinee jacket and booties in a pale lemon shade, threaded with narrow white ribbons. ‘Peggy, these are gorgeous. Did you make them?’

  Peggy laughed. ‘I can’t knit for toffee, queen. My mam made them. She really enjoyed doing it as well. Kept her occupied while I’m at work.’