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

by Pam Howes

  Dora got up and put her arms around Peggy. She gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Tell her thank you so much. I’ll bring the baby to see her, wearing them specially.’

  Peggy beamed. ‘She’d like that, Dora. Mam loves babbies.’

  Dora opened Maude’s parcel next, which contained two tiny white flannelette nightdresses, embroidered across the front with cross-stitching in shades of blue and pink. Maude’s plump face lit up as Dora exclaimed with delight. The stitching was neat and perfect. ‘Beautiful, Maude. And I know you made these because the embroidery is so neat.’ Maude always had some embroidery on the go in the old carpet bag she brought in to work. She often stitched on her breaks. ‘They’re lovely.’

  ‘I thought if I used pink and blue threads they would do for either boy or girl,’ Maude said as Dora hugged her and dropped a kiss on her cheek.

  The rest of the parcels contained a small teddy bear, a baby rattle and bibs, and some toiletries for Dora’s confinement. A soft pink flannel, her favourite Pears’ soap and matching talcum powder. Dora felt overwhelmed by the kindness of her co-workers. Money was tight for everyone and the carefully chosen gifts were much appreciated.

  ‘I just want to say a big thank you, to all of you. You’re so kind and I’m most grateful. I know I speak for Joe too when I say thank you so much. And I’ll miss you all.’ She burst into tears and Joanie handed her a handkerchief and gave her a hug.

  There were cries of ‘We’ll miss you too, Dora,’ and, ‘When you get your own factory you can give us all a job.’

  She laughed. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  As Dora followed Joanie down the aisle she felt like she was draped in a circus marquee and that everyone was staring at her, but thankfully all eyes were on Joanie as she held on to her proud eldest brother’s arm. Frank was standing by the altar with his best man, Joe. A role reversal from their own wedding day. Joanie handed the bouquet of Dora’s dad’s roses to her. Joanie looked a picture in her calf-length lace gown with a sweetheart neckline, exactly as she’d drawn in a sketch for Dora. A circle of white silk roses topped her corkscrew curls and held her short veil in place.

  Dora’s dress was also calf length. She couldn’t take the risk of tripping over a full-length gown and ending up on her back like a beached whale or overturned tortoise, unable to move. She’d chosen the palest turquoise crêpe fabric but still felt ridiculous and had to wear flat white shoes as her feet were swollen and high heels would have crippled her. What a sorry state of affairs, and she’d be forever immortalised in the wedding photos too. Frank and Joanie’s future kids would point at her and say there’s fat Aunty Dora. She felt a giggle rising and hoped she wouldn’t burst out laughing as the vicar conducted the ceremony. Damn, she needed the toilet too and the one in the church was so tiny, she’d be sure to get stuck inside the cubicle. She’d just have to wait until they went outside and nip across to the village hall. She willed her baby to keep still and not play football with her bladder. She focused her attention back on Joanie and Frank and felt moved by the proud look in her brother’s eyes as he gazed into Joanie’s.

  The ceremony over and the register signed, Dora breathed a sigh of relief as the bridal party left the church. She excused herself and hurried across the village green as quickly as she could, into the sanctuary of the toilets in the hall.

  ‘Never again,’ she muttered. ‘Joe will have to make do with one child.’ The indignity of being pregnant was not something she was going to go through again in a hurry. She went back outside, fixed a smile on her face and waddled back across the green in time for the photographs. Joanie looked radiant, her face glowing, and Frank’s smile split his face in two.

  ‘Stand sideways on,’ Mam said in her usual blunt way as Dora took her place beside Joe. ‘You won’t look as big then.’

  ‘Mam, I will. I’m better facing the front.’ Dora plastered on a smile as Joe’s hand searched for hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She felt relieved. He still loved her, fat or otherwise.

  CHAPTER 14

  JUNE 1947

  ‘Twins?’ Dora gasped. ‘Are you absolutely sure?’

  ‘Quite sure, Mrs Rodgers.’ Doctor Owens pushed his glasses back up his nose. He’d been summoned into the Friday morning antenatal clinic session by Nurse Dawson, who had told him she was certain she’d heard two heartbeats and judging by the size of Mrs Rodgers’s fundal height measurements, two babies were more likely than one on this occasion.

  ‘There’s definitely an extra heartbeat, but because of the way baby two seems to be hiding behind baby one, it’s hard to check the position of them both. Maybe at the next clinic they’ll have shifted around a bit and we’ll be able to feel them better. That’s if you don’t deliver before the next clinic. But you need to prepare yourself for an extra baby. And once again, may I offer my congratulations.’ He said goodbye and left the curtained-off cubicle.

  Dora lay back on the bed, her mind in a whirl. How the devil was she going to cope with two babies?

  ‘I think we may need to book you into our maternity home now, Mrs Rodgers,’ Nurse Dawson said. ‘I know we were all set for a home delivery, but with two you might want to have a think about it, and discuss it with your husband. If you decide to go ahead with a home birth, ring the clinic and I’ll bring you another delivery pack so that we’re ready. Doctor Owens will be available to us as well. You could pop any day now really.’

  ‘I’ll talk to Joe tonight.’ Dora pulled herself into a sitting position and slid off the bed, straightening her clothes. ‘No wonder I’m the size of a house.’ She began to giggle. ‘Wait till I tell Joanie. We’ll have a baby each to play with.’ She felt, stunned, terrified and thrilled in equal measures.

  Nurse Dawson smiled. ‘I’m sure she’ll be delighted with your good news.’

  ‘Oh she will, definitely. We always shared our dollies. Do you think this is the reason I felt so sick all the time?’

  ‘Quite possibly. A double dose of hormones. Just take it easy. Would you take your notes through to reception for me, please?’ Nurse Dawson handed over the file and Dora went on her way, her mind whirling. Her mam had accompanied her on the clinic visit and she was seated in the waiting area, chatting to a woman Dora recognised. The woman had a reputation for being a bit of a gossip in Knowsley village.

  ‘I’m ready, Mam, just got to hand these in.’ She indicated the file as her mam got to her feet.

  ‘Everything okay, love? You look a bit anxious.’ Mam followed her to reception.

  ‘Tell you when we get back to my place,’ Dora whispered. The last thing she needed was her business bandied around the village before she got the chance to tell Joe. He’d be reeling with shock when he heard the news. Being an only child himself, he’d always hinted at wanting a few kids. He was certainly off to a flying start now.

  She linked Mam’s arm as they made their way to the bus stop and they were soon trundling towards the prefab estate, where the buses now had a permanent stop at the top of their road. It was much better than when they first moved here. It was less distance for her mam to walk with her bad knees and more convenient for Dora as she struggled with her huge baby bump.

  Back at the bungalow Mam told her to sit down while she brewed them a cuppa. ‘So come on, what did you want to tell me?’ she called as she filled the kettle.

  Dora began to laugh and she couldn’t stop. She giggled until hysterical tears spilled down her cheeks. Her mam brought two cups of tea through and stared at her daughter as though she’d gone quite mad.

  ‘Has Dad got any wood left over from making the cradle and highchair?’ Dora asked, still grinning like a madwoman.

  ‘Probably. He has all sorts in that shed of his. I never go in there, more than my life’s worth to go rooting around in his hidey hole. Why do you ask, love?’

  ‘Because we’re going to need one more of each,’ Dora spluttered, tears still running down her cheeks. ‘You were right about there being more than one in there, Mam
. I’m having twins!’

  Dora didn’t really feel hungry, so she sat at the table with a cuppa and let Joe eat his sausage and mash while she made small talk about her day and how nice the weather had been. Bit too warm for her, but she wasn’t complaining after the awful winter they’d had. He let her waffle on while he finished his meal, finally interrupting her when she paused to take a breath.

  ‘Dora, slow down, I can’t get a word in with you tonight,’ he said, laughing. ‘I’ve been trying to ask you how you went on at the clinic today. Is everything okay?’

  She adopted a solemn expression and told him to go and sit on the sofa. He got up, frowning, and did as she asked. She sat beside him and took his hand.

  ‘Shit, Dora, what is it? You’ve been acting a bit odd since I got home. I knew something wasn’t right. Is it the baby, is something wrong with it? Was all that sickness an indication?’

  She shook her head and started to laugh. He looked so worried. ‘Nothing wrong at all, as far as I know. They’ve both got a strong heartbeat, but one likes to play hide and seek behind the other.’

  He stared at her and then said, ‘Did you say both?’

  ‘I did. We’re having twins, Joe.’

  He was silent for a few seconds until it sank in. She saw shock, and then delight, cross his face. He shook his head and burst out laughing.

  ‘Twins?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Twins?’

  ‘Two babies, Joe.’

  ‘I don’t believe it.’ He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. ‘Are you okay with this? I mean, you always wanted a few years between each kiddie.’

  ‘Well, that was my original plan. But there’s not a lot I can do about it now, is there? I’m fine, Joe. Quite excited in fact. And it explains why I look like I’m carrying an elephant around. I haven’t phoned your mum yet. I thought you should tell her.’

  ‘I will. I bet you can’t wait to tell Joanie.’

  ‘I know. She’ll be that surprised. I’ve warned Mam not to say anything, but she’ll tell Joanie and Frank to come over after tea. I can’t wait to see her face.’

  ‘We need to choose another name now,’ Joe said. ‘We’ll still stick with Carol because I like that and it reminds me of Christmas and when we found out you were pregnant.’

  Dora nodded. ‘I like Carol too. Maybe call another girl after Joanie?’

  ‘Carol and Joanie. Sounds good. And if they’re boys?’

  ‘Well we said David, didn’t we? And what about James after my dad? Not that anyone calls him that. I’ve only ever known him as Jim.’

  ‘Sounds fine to me, Dave and Jimmy. Good lads’ names.’

  ‘And if they’re one of each, then we’ll go with the first names we chose, Carol and David,’ Dora said.

  Joe held her close and dropped a kiss on her lips. ‘Well that’s the easy bit sorted.’

  Dora sighed and patted her huge baby bump. ‘Yep. Now I’ve just got to carry them around for another three weeks. I was asked today if I wanted to go into the maternity home for the birth, or have them here. Mam will be with me if I stay at home, and the midwife and doctor of course. What do you think?’

  He stroked his chin and looked thoughtful. ‘If you feel you’ll be more comfortable here, then that’s fine by me. I don’t mind, just as long as there’s no risk to you or the babies.’

  ‘I think I’d like to have them at home. And maybe they’ll let Joanie be here too.’ She paused as the doorbell rang. ‘That’ll be the newlyweds. Go and let them in, Joe. And try and keep your face straight until I tell them. You look like the cat that got the cream with that big grin.’

  Joe ushered in the visitors and took their coats through to the spare room.

  ‘Have a seat, you two.’ Dora gestured to the chairs. ‘Joe will brew up in a minute. I don’t think I could get up off the sofa if I tried.’ She laughed and held on to her bump as it heaved from side to side with the babies wriggling around.

  ‘How did you go on at the antenatal clinic?’ Joanie asked, sitting on the floor and leaning against Frank’s legs as he reclined in a chair.

  ‘Okay, I suppose,’ Dora began as Joe rejoined her on the sofa and took her hand in his.

  Joanie looked at the pair and frowned. ‘Dora, is something wrong? Joe looks dead serious.’

  ‘No, not really,’ Dora began and then started laughing as her brother leant forward, looking worried. ‘I’ll put you out of your misery. You’re going to be aunty and uncle to not just one, but two little blighters very soon.’

  Joanie let out a yell and jumped to her feet. ‘Twins! Oh my God. No wonder you’re so huge.’ She jumped up and down and heaved Dora to her feet with an extra push from Joe. ‘I can’t even get my arms around you properly. Oh, I’m so excited and thrilled for you.’

  Frank got up and hugged his sister, his blue eyes moist, and he shook Joe by the hand. ‘Well, well, congratulations. This calls for a celebration. Have you anything in, mate?’ he directed at Joe.

  ‘There’s a drop of whisky and sherry left over from Christmas in the kitchen cupboard,’ Joe said. ‘Dora, are you joining us?’

  ‘Not for me, love. I get awful heartburn with sherry at the minute,’ she said, sitting back down. ‘I’ll have a cuppa when you lot have drunk us dry.’

  Joe and Frank went into the kitchen and Joanie flopped down beside Dora on the sofa and shook her head. ‘I just can’t take it in. I bet you’re still in shock, too.’

  ‘Just a bit.’ Dora laughed. ‘We chose some names before you two arrived. Carol and Joanie, or David and James.’

  Joanie nodded. ‘I love Carol, but don’t inflict my name on the poor little thing. Give her something more modern. Why not Joanna? It’s similar but much nicer.’

  Dora frowned. ‘Do you prefer that? You can choose, Aunty Joanie.’

  ‘Oh, thank you for the honour.’ Joanie smiled happily. ‘Then I choose Joanna. It’s really modern. Joanie’s a bit old-fashioned now.’

  ‘Joanna it is then,’ Dora announced as Joe and Frank carried in the drinks and a mug of tea for her. ‘Slight change of a girl’s name,’ she told Joe. She held up her mug and proposed a toast. ‘Here’s to Carol and Joanna, or David and James.’

  Ivy Bennett lifted the frying pans onto the large gas stove and dropped a lump of dripping into each. She swirled the greasy dollops around to coat the pans and pricked a mountain of sausages with a fork before placing them into one of the pans of hot smoking fat. In no time she had eggs frying in the other pan and proceeded to slice a loaf of bread while keeping an eye on the food. There was no bacon today, although she wasn’t complaining as the sausages looked a bit meatier than the last lot the butcher had delivered; a sure sign that things were looking up on the meat ration front. She fished the eggs out of the pan, slid them onto a large enamel plate and popped it onto the rack above the stove to keep warm.

  The Sunday nightshift would be down for their breakfasts soon. She liked to have everything ready for the hungry men who would wolf down their food and then head off home for a well-deserved sleep. As soon as they left, the early Monday shift arrived, many of them wanting a breakfast too; they usually allowed themselves ten minutes to eat and washed it down with a mug of hot, sweet tea. The men didn’t have the luxury of time to waste, so having their food ready and waiting was Ivy’s daily mission. She looked pointedly at the clock on the wall above the stove as her assistant Flo hurried in, same apology as always: the tram was late again.

  ‘I can’t understand why yours is always late and mine’s always on time,’ Ivy said. ‘Try getting the earlier one. I need you here on the dot of seven thirty tomorrow.’

  Flo hurriedly took off her jacket, slipped on her white overall and topped it with a navy and white checked pinny, same as Ivy’s. She pushed her untidy mop of hair under a matching turban.

  Ivy sniffed and turned her attention back to the sausages. ‘Get that bread under the grill for me and butter it when it’s done. They’ll be down in less t
han five minutes.’ She turned the heat off under the pans, lifted the sausages onto dishes and transferred everything over to the warmers. ‘Don’t let that toast burn, I’ve only one small loaf left until the delivery arrives.’

  She hoped Joe Rodgers would be in for breakfast. Although if he started going on again about the twins that he and his wife were expecting, she’d go mad. He talked non-stop to anyone who would listen about how wonderful Dora was. How the baby she was carrying had turned out to be not just one but two.

  Dora had everything and it made Ivy sick. There’d been no doting parents to look after her when she’d been widowed and miscarried her baby during the war. No older brother who’d walk over hot coals for her either, and she had no close friends to turn to. No one from the ROF knew her past history, and that’s how she liked to keep it. She couldn’t handle sympathy and had built a hard shell around herself. By working hard she could switch off her emotions. The ROF canteen had become her second home and her world.

  Dora Rodgers didn’t know how lucky she was, or how easy her life was either, Ivy thought. Her own life consisted of living in a tiny rented flat at the top of an old Victorian house, with the owner’s elderly cat for company. She wasn’t short of male admirers, but sadly they were in the main married men.

  It was Joe Rodgers she’d had her eye on from the first time he’d walked into her canteen early last year. She’d always been attracted to him, even though he gave her no real encouragement. He was polite and friendly, but he was like that with everyone. She followed his band everywhere; went to as many of the dances that she could get to, dragging Flo along as she had no one else to take, and she was someone to partner on the floor with.

  Flo had buttered the toast and was stacking plates ready for the onslaught. Ivy grabbed one of the plates, put two sausages on it and surreptitiously slid it to one end of the serving area. ‘One sausage, one egg and one slice of toast today,’ she instructed as the doors swung open and the nightshift hurried in.