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

by Pam Howes

  ‘I’ve a spare bottle here you can have, lads,’ Mrs Morris, who ran the outdoor licence, said. ‘Want a full jug?’ She proceeded to fill up the enamel jug with ale from a tap behind the counter and then rooted out a funnel from a shelf above her head. She poured the ale into the bottle, laughing as it foamed out of the funnel and spilled over her hands. She topped up the jug again, carried on filling the bottle, then fastened the stopper tight. ‘Two bob. Enjoy it.’

  ‘Can I have a bottle of sweet sherry as well, please?’ Joe dug in his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins. Frank and Alan did likewise. They split the cost between them and made their slightly tipsy way back to the prefab.

  Dora put her finger to her lips as the door opened and Joe, Frank and Alan walked into the sitting room. She’d just got Carol settled for the night and the cottage pie was heating in the oven for tea. Her mam and Agnes were in the kitchen, making gravy and cooking vegetables.

  ‘I presume they won?’ Dora said as they nodded in unison and held out the bottles like a peace offering. ‘You’re all staying for tea, so the food will help soak up the alcohol you’ve no doubt already drunk. Glad to see you thought of us ladies.’ She took the drinks into the kitchen.

  ‘What was the score?’ she asked, coming back into the sitting room and taking their coats to put in the spare bedroom.

  ‘Four–nil,’ Frank said, beaming. ‘It was a cracking game. I reckon our dad was up there spurring them on. He loved his football.’

  ‘He did. We’ll raise a toast to him when I’ve poured the drinks. Right, you three sit at the table and we’ll manage with trays on our knees.’

  Dora handed around their drinks and proposed a toast. ‘To Dad, Joanie and our Joanna, look after each other until we meet again.’ They all raised their glasses. Mam wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and Frank blinked rapidly.

  Dora and Agnes carried the plates through and handed them round. ‘Mam’s done the cooking, so you’ll enjoy it, I’m sure.’

  Joe got up to put a record on the new gramophone that Mam had treated them to with a bit of the money Dora’s dad had left her. When Dora had protested that she should treat herself to something nice instead, she’d told them there was nothing she needed and she wanted to spoil them as they deserved it after what they’d been through in the last year. Frank had suggested the record player as something they’d both enjoy and get pleasure from, and he and Mam had paid a visit to Epstein’s furniture store on Walton Road, where Mr Harry Epstein had demonstrated several modern gramophones, including the one that was now their pride and joy. As the dulcet voice of Nat King Cole filled the little room, they all tucked in to their impromptu dinner party.

  ‘This is a real treat, Mrs Evans,’ Alan said. ‘I’ve been suffering Agnes’s cooking these last few days. She’s learning, but she’s not a patch on you yet.’ He ducked as Agnes took a swipe at his head.

  Mam laughed. ‘I’ll write you a few recipes out, chuck. Then the poor lad won’t starve when you marry him.’

  Dora smiled. It was nice to see her mam laughing. She’d enjoyed her afternoon in town with Joanie’s mam and had brought back a couple of lengths of pretty cotton print material in pastel shades to make Carol some summer frocks.

  Tonight she looked happy in the bosom of her family and the sherry was giving her cheeks a rosy glow. In spite of the last few months being hard for her, Dora felt certain that her mam was going to be okay. And today, out in the front garden, the first of her dad’s daffodils had started to flower as if to remind them all that spring was in the air and life must carry on, exactly as he would have wanted it to.

  CHAPTER 26

  Ivy scanned the queue of people stretching down Longmoor Lane as they waited for tickets outside the Reo picture house. She couldn’t see them yet, but she’d overheard Joe telling Eric on Thursday that he was taking Dora to see Easter Parade on Saturday night as the band weren’t playing, with it being Easter weekend. She’d managed to drag a protesting Flo out with her. As a bus pulled up she ducked behind a couple while she eyed up the passengers who were jumping off the platform. There he was, helping Dora down and hurrying to the back of the queue. She grabbed Flo by the arm and marched her down the road.

  ‘Where are we going? We were nearly at the front. We’ll lose our places now,’ Flo complained.

  ‘Shh. We’ll be fine.’ She could see Joe looking in his wallet as Dora spoke to the two women in front of her. Must be someone she knew because they were laughing in a friendly way and had greeted Dora with hugs.

  ‘There’s Peggy and Maude,’ Dora said as she and Joe took their places in the queue. She called their names and they greeted each other with hugs.

  ‘Nice to see you both,’ Dora said. ‘Are you looking forward to seeing the film?’

  ‘We are,’ Peggy said as the queue surged forward. ‘Here’s your mate and her fella,’ she said as Agnes and Alan came running across the road and joined them. ‘We’ll catch up with you in the interval.’

  Dora greeted their friends as Peggy and Maude made their way inside the Reo.

  ‘I’m so excited about this,’ Agnes said, giving Dora a hug.

  ‘Me too. I just love Judy Garland.’ As Joe and Alan bought the tickets at the box office, Dora glanced around the foyer. ‘Shall we get some sweets?’

  Agnes nodded and followed her over to the kiosk in the corner.

  ‘Still not much choice,’ Dora said, frowning. ‘It’s time sweet rationing was over and done with. What about Payne’s Poppets, a box between us?’

  ‘That’s fine by me.’ Agnes smiled as Dora paid for the chocolates and they rejoined Joe and Alan.

  As Joe took her arm Dora caught sight of two women in the box office queue. She stiffened. Was that Ivy and her mate from the ROF? What the hell were they doing here? But then again, half the population of Liverpool would be at one picture house or another tonight, all eagerly anticipating the much-advertised film. Maybe Ivy lived over this way. She had no idea as it was something she’d never thought to ask Joe. Before she got a chance to say something to him the foursome were being shown to their seats in the stalls by a uniformed usherette.

  As Ivy and Flo quietly took their seats Ivy caught the words ‘wedding dress’ and ‘first fittings next week’. Dora must be making the redhead’s dress. So she was back to sewing again. She wondered if she dared ask Dora to make something for her. That would mean a few visits to Joe’s home. And if she were a paying customer, there wasn’t much he could do about it. She’d keep her ears pinned back to see if she heard any more. She had Dora’s number because she’d seen it on the card posted in the newsagent’s window last year but one, and had made a note of it. The piece of paper was still in her purse.

  Joe’s party were in the last four seats near the centre aisle and Ivy and Flo were on the row immediately behind. Except it was the redhead and her boyfriend who had the seats directly in front; but it was near enough for Ivy to reach across and tap Joe on the shoulder. That’d give him a shock. She’d bide her time. Maybe in the interval, when no doubt the women would visit the ladies.

  As the curtains swung across the screen for the interval and the usherettes made their way to the front of the cinema with laden trays of drinks and ice-cream, Dora and Agnes squeezed out of their seats. Alan went to join the lengthening queue for ice-cream and Joe lit a cigarette. Ivy gave Flo some money and told her to go and queue for two tubs. She took a deep breath and leaned forward, tapping Joe lightly on the shoulder. He turned, a frown on his face.

  ‘Evening, Joe. Fancy seeing you here,’ she said as a look of shock and then horror crossed his handsome face.

  ‘Ivy,’ he spluttered, dropping his cigarette and then jumping to his feet to look for it. He retrieved the ciggie and his composure and sat back down again, his face slightly flushed. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

  Ivy smiled. ‘The same as you of course. It’s a good film, isn’t it? I’ve always loved Fred Astaire. It’s the dancing you see.
That’s why I love to come and see you play, even though you ignore me these days.’ She did a little pout and watched his face going a darker shade of red.

  ‘I don’t do it on purpose. I’m working, or I’ve got Dora with me.’

  ‘Ah, yes, and how is she? I know she’s had a bad time in the last few months.’ Ivy was aware of Alan and Flo making their way back to their seats but there was still no sign of Dora and the redhead.

  ‘She’s fine, thanks. Just gone to speak to a couple of girls she used to work with at Palmer’s. Er, Alan, this is Ivy and Flo. They run the canteen at the ROF.’

  ‘Well, I run it,’ Ivy said. ‘Flo’s my assistant. Nice to meet you, Alan.’

  ‘Likewise.’ Alan nodded and handed a couple of tubs to Joe. He turned around and looked up the aisle. ‘Here’re the girls.’

  Dora and Agnes took their seats and their ice-cream tubs. Ivy heard him ask how Peggy and Maude were doing.

  ‘Oh they love their new jobs at Tate & Lyle’s,’ Dora replied. ‘And they’re better paid.’

  Then Joe nudged Dora and pointed to Ivy, who was still leaning across the back of his seat. ‘You remember Ivy, love? From work,’ he added.

  Dora glared at her. ‘Yes, I do. I hope your message-taking has improved.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’ Ivy fluttered her eyelashes innocently.

  ‘It was you that didn’t give Joe my message when I went into labour.’

  ‘Dora, hush, love,’ Joe said. ‘Now’s not the time for this. It was all sorted out, remember?’

  Dora turned her back on Ivy and stabbed the wooden spatula into her ice-cream tub.

  Ivy raised an eyebrow at Joe and shook her head. She turned her attention to eating her ice-cream, satisfied that she’d ruffled a few feathers, if nothing else. At least now she was certain that he’d come and say something to her next week when they were in work. It was better than being ignored. She watched as Dora whispered to her friend and the redhead turned around and gave her a filthy stare. Talk about if looks could kill, Ivy thought.

  As the second half of the film got underway Ivy had to bear the agony of Joe and Dora cuddling up together to the right, Joe’s arm around her shoulders, and the redhead and her boyfriend stealing kisses and whispering sweet-nothings to each other to the left. They could have done that on the sofa at home instead of wasting good money at the pictures. At least Flo was enraptured by the film, and as ‘The End’ flashed up on screen a loud cheer went up and as one the entire cinema audience rose and left, singing the Easter Bonnet song.

  Most of Liverpool was probably right at this minute walking out of cinemas in each suburb singing their heads off, Ivy thought. As they made their way up the aisle a couple whizzed past, dancing as they sang. She wished she could find someone to really belong to and have some fun with. She looked back to see if she could catch a last glimpse of Joe. He was helping Dora on with her coat and then he dropped a kiss on her lips and took her hand. Ivy swore under her breath and dragged Flo out onto the street. It might be all love’s young dream at the moment, but one day he’d come running when he needed her to confide in again.

  ‘I’m thinking of asking your wife to make me a new frock for my holidays,’ Ivy said as Joe joined her with his brew, just as she knew he would. ‘Flo would like one as well. We’re having a long weekend in New Brighton next month and there’s a dance on in the tower ballroom.’

  Joe nodded. ‘There always is at the weekend. But Dora’s busy at the moment. You’ll have to ask somebody else.’ He took a sip from his mug and tried to change the subject. ‘What did you think of the film?’

  ‘We enjoyed it. Er, I don’t know of any other dressmaker in the area and Dora has such a good reputation. Maybe if I ring her she might fit us in, or tell me of anyone else she knows that will sort us out.’

  Joe shook his head. ‘Why would you want Dora to make your frocks, Ivy? Surely her reaction the other night told you that you’re not her favourite person.’

  ‘Ah well, I was giving that some thought. This way she’ll know that I don’t hold any grudges against her for starting that phone-call rumour. It’s time we let bygones be bygones, don’t you think?’

  Joe got to his feet. ‘Do what you want. But I think you’ll find she’ll say no. I sometimes wonder if you ever do think. But just remember what I said that night at the Litherland dance. Don’t cause me trouble, or you’ll regret it.’

  CHAPTER 27

  JULY 1948

  Following Agnes’s wedding, there was high demand for Dora’s dressmaking skills, but she could only take on what she could manage while looking after Carol. Her heart still wasn’t really in it; it wasn’t the same, working on her own, and she missed Joanie so much that some days the pain was almost physical. But as her mam said, Joanie would want her to carry on and not sit about moping all day. Dora sighed. She was doing her best to keep going. Mam came to help out a couple of days a week and took Carol for walks in the pram while Dora got the cutting out done.

  That Ivy had had the cheek to phone her the other week to ask if she’d make her and Flo a new frock each. She’d turned her down, told her she was far too busy and hung up without speaking further. When Joe had come home from work she’d gone absolutely mad with him for giving Ivy their phone number. When she’d finally calmed down and let him get a word in edgeways, he told her he’d done no such thing and maybe Ivy had been given the number from someone Dora had made clothes for, or got it from the postcard that had been in the newsagent’s window for ages. He said he’d tackle her about it the next day but Dora told him not to bother. Whether he did or not he didn’t say, but Ivy hadn’t called again.

  Carol’s cot had been put back into her and Joe’s room again, as she did the machining at night in the second bedroom. By the end of the year the business had built up again to the point where she felt exhausted, and Joe was complaining about having Carol in with them. He’d suggested they book a holiday late summer but Dora told him she was too busy to even think about it.

  ‘Let’s get this year out of the way, and Dad’s and Joanie’s anniversaries, and then I’ll have a bit of a break. As soon as next year’s holiday vacancies are advertised in the Echo we’ll book something.’

  ‘When you take a break we’re putting Carol back in her own room then,’ Joe said. ‘Every time I come near you she wakes up, little madam.’

  Dora sighed. It was true. Having Carol in with them was putting a bit of a dampener on their love life. It made her feel a bit insecure and she knew she’d have to put a bit of effort in. ‘We could do with another bedroom. I wish we could afford to buy a house like Agnes and Alan’s.’ Dora loved Agnes’s posh semi-detached on Second Avenue in Fazakerley. It had bay windows and a separate dining room as well as three bedrooms. Maybe one day.

  By the time Easter rolled around again, Dora had agreed on a week in Blackpool at the beginning of June. It was the Whit Week holidays and the weather was usually good at that time of year. Agnes and Alan were going with them and Alan was taking them in his car. The boarding house landlady had agreed to babysit for a small nightly fee. Dora was looking forward to dancing in the Tower Ballroom and maybe seeing a show at the Winter Gardens theatre. She was feeling excited and busy making little sundresses and matching hats for Carol, who was now talking – in her own fashion.

  She kept them entertained but had a temper on her if she didn’t get her own way. Uncle Frank was the only one who could pacify his niece when she was throwing one of her tantrums. She’d be just two by the time they went away and was forever running off or climbing out of her trolley. Dora made a note on her ever-increasing list of holiday needs to buy some reins. At least then Carol could walk without holding hands, which she hated to do, loving her independence as she toddled along beside them.

  ‘She’ll enjoy it on the sands,’ Mam said, on an afternoon visit to Dora’s home. She produced a little red and blue patterned bucket and spade from her shopping bag. ‘I got these from Paddy’s at the weekend when I
went with Joanie’s mam. I ordered a fridge while I was down there too, from Mr Epstein’s shop. It’s coming on Wednesday. I don’t use food up as quickly as I did since your dad died, and I’m chucking such a lot away when it goes off. Our Frank’s given me half towards it. I think we’ll end up saving a bob or two in the long run. Mr Epstein gave me a bit of a discount. He had his youngest son Brian in helping him at the weekend. Lovely lad; pleasant and polite. Very well spoken. Mr Epstein told me he might be opening a music shop right next door and Brian will be running it for him, along with the oldest boy. That’ll be nice, won’t it? You and Joe will be able to buy your records from there once it’s opened.’

  Dora smiled. Her mam’s face looked quite lit up when she mentioned the furniture dealer. ‘Nice, is he,’ she teased, ‘your Mr Epstein. Is there a Mrs Epstein?’

  Mam realised she was having her leg pulled and laughed good-naturedly. ‘As it happens, yes there is, and she’s called Queenie. So you can just stop that, our Dora. I’m not looking to replace your dad. He was the best. Anyway, go and get that kettle on. A body could die of thirst waiting for a brew in this place.’

  ‘Shall we have a stroll along the prom?’ Joe asked, popping Carol into the trolley and fastening the straps before she tried to clamber out. ‘We’ve got an hour to kill before our evening meal.’ The boarding house was on Balmoral Road, the landlady, Mrs Fowler very kind, but guests were not encouraged to go back to their rooms until it was almost meal time. Not that there was much to go back to. Although spotlessly clean, the room that overlooked the back garden, with glimpses through the trees of the pleasure beach, was sparsely furnished and, although adequate, nothing fancy.