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

by Pam Howes

  ‘Hee haws,’ Carol yelled, as they walked by a row of tired-looking donkeys ‘Me go, me go.’

  ‘You can have a ride again tomorrow,’ Dora told her and handed her a biscuit in the hope of distracting her, but Carol started to undo the restraining trolley straps, then screamed and chucked her biscuit away.

  ‘Hey, madam, that’s enough,’ Joe said, taking over the trolley-pushing. He yanked Carol upright as she tried to get under the straps to escape. ‘She’ll bloody strangle herself one of these days.’

  Dora sighed. ‘She’s a little monkey at times. Mam said they go through an awkward phase at two and I think she’s going through hers now. No wonder Agnes and Alan went up to St Anne’s today for a change.’

  Joe shook his head. The couples were into the third day of their holiday and Carol had proved a handful from day one. ‘Hopefully she’ll fall asleep after tea tonight. Mrs Fowler said she’d listen out for her if she does and we can have a peaceful drink on the pier.’

  Dora waved at Agnes and Alan, who had just jumped off a tram. ‘Had a good time?’

  ‘Lovely,’ Agnes said and placed a little pink straw coolie hat with a white flower trim onto Carol’s head. ‘I saw this and thought it was just for you,’ she said to the little girl, who gave her a wide grin. ‘Pretty lady.’ She took the reins from Joe, and Carol giggled as Agnes pretended to trot behind her.

  Alan smiled at his wife, and Joe slapped him on the back. ‘Time you two got cracking, mate. Don’t leave it too long.’

  As the week progressed Carol settled into a routine of cutting out afternoon naps. Worn out with fresh air, she slept until seven most mornings. With no disturbed nights Dora felt rested and relaxed, and although Carol slept in their bedroom, she didn’t stir when they came home from a night out, and the couple resumed their love life with renewed passion.

  ‘That’s the trick,’ Joe said as he lay contentedly beside Dora. He lit a cigarette and blew smoke rings into the air. ‘It’s where we’ve been going wrong.’

  ‘What is?’ Dora frowned, her blonde hair fanned across the pillow. ‘I wasn’t aware we’d been going wrong. I thought that was pretty good just now. I enjoyed it, even if you didn’t.’

  Joe laughed, a teasing glint in his eyes. ‘Of course I enjoyed it. I don’t mean the sex, you daft thing. Carol and her afternoon naps; stop her having them and she’ll sleep all night.’

  Dora grinned and slapped his arm. ‘God, I’d never get any peace, not from her or from you for that matter. We’ll see. She might be different at home. It’s the sea air that conks her out here.’

  ‘Last day tomorrow,’ Joe said, stubbing out his half cigarette that he’d saved for the morning. ‘Dancing in the ballroom tomorrow night to look forward to.’ He reached for Dora, who slid back into his arms and kissed him. ‘I’ve really enjoyed this week. Hope we can do it again soon,’ he whispered, returning her kisses with fervour.

  CHAPTER 28

  SEPTEMBER 1949

  Dora put the phone down and made a note on her pad that a Miss Florence Braithwaite would be coming for a consultation tomorrow night at seven. She was getting busy with Christmas dress orders already and it was only the third week of September. On top of that, she didn’t feel too good, and she had recognised the signs and symptoms almost right away this time. Tomorrow morning she was visiting Doctor Owens for confirmation, but was absolutely certain that she was expecting a Blackpool baby.

  Dora had saved all Carol’s baby stuff, so at least they wouldn’t be starting from scratch this time, but if she had a boy she’d need some new clothes for him. So many thoughts were tumbling through her mind. She was terrified of giving birth again; she was taking no chances and would opt to have the baby in hospital. With the new National Health Service now up and running, there was nothing to pay.

  No one in the family had been told yet. Joe had suggested they wait until after the doctor had confirmed things. Dora worked out that the new baby was due in March. At least the worst of the winter weather would be out of the way.

  Her greatest fear, next to the baby dying, was losing her mind again. What if she did? She’d read articles in magazines about mothers who’d been admitted to mental institutions and never come home. The thought horrified her. Joe and their children would need her and she owed it to them to try and keep herself in check.

  Carol was shouting ‘Mammy’ from the kitchen and Dora braced herself. They could do with a bigger high chair with secure restraints – her daughter had one leg over the back and the other over the tray in an effort to climb out. ‘Turn around, Carol, and finish your din-dins. There’s a good girl.’

  ‘No, want out,’ Carol screamed, her face going red.

  Dora lifted her down. It was pointless arguing with her. She wiped her hands and face and Carol toddled off into the sitting room and resumed playing with her building bricks. The phone rang again and Dora hurried to answer it. It was Agnes, on her break at work.

  ‘I’ve got tomorrow off,’ Agnes said. ‘Will you be in after dinner?’

  ‘I need to nip out in the morning but should be back about one. Is that okay?’

  ‘Yes, that’s smashing. See you tomorrow then.’

  ‘Look forward to it.’ She hung up and went back into the sitting room, where Carol had taken a pencil from the coffee table and was busy drawing squiggles on the wall near the chimney breast. Dora sighed: she must remember to put her sketching things out of Carol’s reach. She tried to prise the pencil out of her daughter’s tight grip, preparing herself for the usual screaming match.

  ‘Naughty girl. Give it to Mammy.’

  But Carol kicked and screamed so loud that Dora didn’t hear the front door opening and her mam calling hello.

  ‘What’s going on in here?’

  ‘Ganny,’ Carol sobbed and threw herself at her granny’s legs, wiping her eyes and snotty nose on the hem of her skirt.

  Mam picked her up and cuddled her and the sobs subsided. ‘Oh dear. She’s tired, you know. She still needs that afternoon nap.’

  ‘Well she’s not having one,’ Dora protested. ‘If she sleeps now she won’t go to bed early and we can’t get anything done at night. There’s no peace.’

  Mam shook her head. ‘There’s not supposed to be peace when you’ve got kiddies, chuck. That’s what family life’s all about. Anyway, Carol, you go and get your Goldilocks book and Granny will read to you.’

  Carol toddled off to her room and Dora sighed. ‘Mam, I’m so tired. I’ve got loads of work on and I’m not feeling great at the moment either.’

  ‘Maybe you’re doing too much. Do you really need to do as much sewing? Joe’s doing a bit of overtime again and he’s got his weekend money coming in from the band. Can’t you manage without working?’

  ‘Well yes, I suppose we can, but I enjoy it, Mam. It’s a bit of independence, having my own money. My customers are really nice and I’ve got a lot of regulars who recommend me to their friends. There’s a new lady coming tomorrow who said her friend told her I was very good. I don’t like letting people down.’

  ‘What about trying to get Carol a place in a nursery for a couple of days a week then? There’s one in Kirkby that’s good.’

  Dora chewed her lip. ‘Depends how much it costs. And I don’t think Joe would like that. We’ll have a talk about it later and see. Anyway, let’s have a brew now you’re here.’

  ‘There are scones in that bag.’ Mam pointed to the shopping bag she’d dropped on the floor when Carol had thrown herself at her legs. ‘There’s a jar of my home-made blackberry jam as well. And there just might be a few dolly mixtures hiding in a corner, if someone promises to be a good girl for their mammy.’

  Carol was now sitting on the sofa with an angelic smile on her face and her favourite book clutched in her hands. Butter wouldn’t melt, Dora thought as she went into the kitchen. How the hell was she going to cope with two? And, as she knew there was no chance of Joe agreeing to a nursery place as money needed to be saved for when s
he took a break next year, she wasn’t even going to bring the subject up.

  Dora had a sense of déjà-vu the following day as she sat in front of Doctor Owens and he confirmed her pregnancy and her due date.

  ‘Can I have this baby in hospital, please?’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘Of course, Mrs Rodgers. I would certainly recommend that. Your midwife will pay you a home visit to arrange your antenatal care, but she’ll book you into our maternity home for delivery and recuperation. We’ll be monitoring you throughout your pregnancy. I’m quite sure you’ll have nothing to worry about though.’

  ‘What if it’s twins again?’ Dora chewed her lip. ‘I don’t think I could cope.’

  ‘It’s highly unlikely. But you mustn’t worry. It’s something we’ll keep a close eye on right from the start.’

  Dora nodded. ‘Thank you. I’ll go and break the news to everyone now.’

  Doctor Owens smiled. ‘Congratulations once again, Mrs Rodgers.’

  Mam had Carol for the afternoon and Frank would bring her home after tea. Dora would tell them both her news then; when she went to the doctor’s she’d told Mam a fib that she was meeting up with Agnes in town for a few hours and didn’t want to take Carol with her.

  Dora rang the canteen phone to speak to Joe. Fortunately it was answered by Eric, who told her he’d pass on the message as Joe would be down for his dinner any minute now. The phone rang out within seconds and she snatched up the receiver.

  ‘How did it go?’ Joe’s anxious voice came down the line.

  ‘Fine, Daddy,’ she said, feeling a smile coming on. ‘We’re expecting number two in March.’

  There was silence while he digested her news and then, ‘Oh, sweetheart, that’s wonderful. And are you okay about it?’

  ‘Yes, I’m fine. We’ll talk when you get home, after I’ve finished with the lady who’s coming to be measured up. I’m feeling quite excited now. I can’t wait to tell Agnes. She’ll be here any minute. And Joe, don’t say anything to Eric just yet, otherwise I’ll have Dolly under my feet all afternoon. I need to get used to the idea before she passes it around the estate.’

  ‘My lips are sealed. Enjoy your afternoon with Agnes and I’ll see you later. I love you, Dora.’

  ‘Love you too,’ she replied and hung up, feeling warm inside. She dashed into the kitchen and made a pot of tea and a plate of cheese sandwiches and carried them through to the dining table as the doorbell rang. Praying it wasn’t Dolly come for a nosy – Eric was bound to have rung her and told her she’d just called Joe – she dashed to open it. Agnes greeted her with a hug and a bunch of colourful chrysanthemums.

  ‘Oh those are lovely,’ she exclaimed. ‘Thank you so much. Come on in and I’ll put them in water.’

  ‘You okay, Agnes?’ Dora asked as they sat on the sofa with a brew. ‘You look as though you’re bursting with gossip.’

  Agnes laughed. ‘I am. I’ve got some really good news to share.’

  ‘So have I,’ Dora said with a grin.

  ‘Have you? Go on then, what is it?’

  ‘No, you go first.’

  Agnes’s smile was lighting up her whole face as she put down her mug. ‘I’m pregnant!’

  ‘Oh my goodness, so am I!’ Dora exclaimed.

  The delighted pair did a little dance around the room and then sat back down on the sofa, laughing and crying at the same time.

  After they’d got their breath back they exchanged date details. They were both due the same month. ‘I can’t believe it. How lovely that we can share this together. Oh, I’m so happy,’ said Agnes.

  ‘Me too,’ Dora said. ‘I’m so glad you’re going to go through it with me. I’m a bit scared, I have to admit, but I’m also really excited.’

  ‘We’ll both need some new maternity smocks. Will you feel up to making any?’

  ‘I’ll do my best. It’ll be a while before your own things get too tight, and I’ll make us a couple of smock dresses each for Christmas and New Year. I’ve got a new order coming in tonight and then that’s it. With our new dresses now, I’m booked up until Christmas anyway. I’m planning on taking a few months off while I adjust to having two kids. God help me.’

  ‘Is Carol still playing you up?’

  Dora pointed to the wall where her daughter had scribbled yesterday. ‘Joe said there’s some distemper in the shed the same colour, so he’ll paint over it when he gets a minute.’

  ‘She might be as different again when the new baby comes along.’

  ‘Maybe. I hope she won’t be jealous. It’ll take a bit of adjusting for her. But we can live in hope.’

  Joe was reading Carol a bedtime story when the doorbell rang. Dora smoothed her hair down and fixed a smile on her face as she swung the door back. Her welcoming smile froze and her jaw dropped as the two women on the path outside greeted her with friendly nods.

  ‘Good evening, Mrs Rodgers.’ Ivy Bennett spoke first. ‘Miss Braithwaite has come to be measured for a new dress.’

  Dora found her voice. ‘I’m afraid there must be some mistake. I told you I was too busy ages ago.’

  ‘Well that’s not what you told Flo here yesterday, now is it?’ Ivy said, the friendly smile leaving her face. ‘She’s booked in to see you at seven tonight. So I think the mistake must be yours.’

  Flo stood in front of Dora where Ivy had pushed her, and Dora could swear from the blank look in the woman’s eyes and the way her jaw drooped to one side as she smiled that she wasn’t all there, as her mam would say. She pursed her lips. ‘You’d better come in then.’

  She showed them into the sitting room. ‘Please sit down. I’ll be with you in a moment.’ She hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. She crept quietly into their bedroom where Joe, on the bed, had his eyes shut with Carol’s book flat across his chest. Carol was asleep in her cot. She shook him gently by the shoulder. ‘Shh,’ she warned as he opened his eyes. ‘Bloody Ivy and Flo are in the sitting room. I didn’t recognise Flo’s name when she booked her appointment. I’ve no choice now but to see to her, but will you stay in here and I’ll get rid as soon as I can.’

  Joe sat bolt upright, wide awake now. ‘You’re pulling my leg?’

  ‘I am not,’ she whispered. ‘I’m fuming. They’ve duped me into this. But I’m offering no tea and biscuits like I usually do.’

  ‘What if I need a pee?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, Joe, just cross your legs or something.’ Dora dashed back out of the room and closed the door firmly behind her. She put her best businesslike smile on, grabbed her tape measure and sketch pad from the sewing room and went back into the sitting room.

  ‘If you’d just like to remove your jacket, Miss Braithwaite, I’ll take some measurements. And I have a pad here with some of the dress designs that I think will suit your figure and shape best.’

  ‘You can call me Flo, if you like.’ Flo gave a shy lopsided smile.

  ‘I know the style she wants,’ Ivy butted in before Flo could open her mouth further.

  ‘It’s not a case of what you want, it’s what suits Flo best,’ Dora said firmly, whisking the tape measure around Flo at strategic points and writing down her measurements. ‘People often wear dresses that don’t suit and are too tight,’ she said, trying not to smile as she thought about Ivy’s flab poking out of her red dress when it split a few Christmases ago.

  Ivy didn’t rise to the bait but just glanced around the neat-as-a-new-pin room, her eyes alighting on Joe and Dora’s framed wedding photograph on the mantelpiece next to a photograph of Joanie. ‘Joe out tonight, is he?’

  Dora shook her head. ‘He’s busy getting our daughter to sleep.’

  Flo smiled and sat back down again with the sketch pad on her knee. ‘I like this one, Dora. Do you think it would suit me?’

  Dora looked. It was the sweetheart neckline, New Look dress, with the figure-skimming skirt. ‘I think it would look lovely, Flo. You can stand to have the skirt a little fuller as you’re so slim. And I
can put extra darts in the bodice to give more shape up top.’

  ‘What do you think, Ivy? It was your idea to come here, so maybe you can help me choose,’ Flo said as Ivy wriggled uncomfortably on the sofa. ‘Do you think this one will suit me?’

  Dora raised an eyebrow as Ivy’s cheeks flushed and her eyes narrowed. ‘Caught you,’ Dora muttered under her breath. Well, if she had any thoughts about gawping at Joe tonight she was going to be disappointed.

  Ivy glanced at the open sketch pad and nodded. ‘Anything’s better than what you usually wear,’ she muttered.

  ‘Right, I’ll work out how much fabric you need, Flo. And then you can give it to Joe at work. Save you coming all this way again until I need to see you for a first fitting. And Joe will let you know when that will be.’ Dora sat at the table and quickly worked out Flo’s fabric requirements and handed her a page from the notebook. ‘Keep it safe until you have time to go to the shops. I’ll need the fabric within two weeks if you decide to go ahead. Otherwise, I won’t be able to fit you in. I’m booked up for Christmas and then will be taking time off early next year for a few months, so I won’t be accepting any more orders after this one.’

  ‘Well, thank you for seeing me.’ Flo got to her feet and pulled on her jacket. ‘I’ll get the material at the weekend and give it to Joe on Monday, if that’s okay with you.’

  Dora nodded and opened the door leading to the hall. ‘Thank you for coming. I’ll see you soon.’ Ivy got to her feet and pushed rudely past, pulling Flo along with her.

  ‘Bye, bye, Mrs Rodgers and thank you,’ Flo said as she was practically dragged outside.

  Dora closed the front door and leant against it. She took a deep breath and tapped on the bedroom door. ‘You can come out now.’

  Joe dashed out, shaking his head, and rushed straight into the bathroom. Dora grinned and went to put a light under the pan of blind Scouse she’d made earlier. That had put an end to Ivy’s antics. She was no doubt expecting a social evening as their guest, but she’d gone away without as much as a cuppa or a glimpse of Joe. Served her right. Poor Flo had looked so uncomfortable standing at the door and she hadn’t had the heart to turn her away. Ah well, one more visit for a fitting – which she’d arrange for a Saturday afternoon to coincide with a football match, when Joe would be out – and then he could take the finished dress in to work before Christmas and collect payment.