Liverpool Love Song

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Liverpool Love Song Page 20

by Anne Baker


  ‘Was it shorthand typing you did in that civil service job?’

  ‘I did a few letters, but I worked in the accounts department and mostly it was bookkeeping. I should be able to do anything like that.’

  ‘You could get your textbooks out and refresh your memory,’ he suggested.

  ‘Of course I should. Thanks for reminding me. I’ll get them out today.’

  That afternoon she felt she’d made a start at taking control of her life. Zac was six months old now and she was able to start him on solids and cut down the number of breast-feeds he had. A week later she rang the office where she used to work and spoke to her old boss.

  ‘I’d be glad to have you back, Chloe, but it isn’t possible just now. Sorry, we have our full complement of office staff.’

  That knocked her back a bit, but she started studying the situations vacant advertised in the local newspapers. There didn’t seem to be very many. She thought perhaps a part-time job might suit her better to start with. It would give her a chance to get her hand in again, and Mum and Aunt Goldie would not have to look after her kids all day.

  She didn’t get the first two jobs she applied for, and as a result she had to fight the feeling that it was all hopeless. She had to force herself to carry on.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  HELEN HAD ARRANGED TO meet Joan in town for lunch and tried to persuade Chloe to go with her. ‘You’ll feel better if you get out and about,’ she said. ‘It’s not a good day for the garden. Marigold will look after the babies if you ask her.’

  ‘I know she will, Mum, but I’d rather stay in the summerhouse and take it easy.’

  So Helen went alone feeling low, and let all the problems with Chloe and Marigold come gushing out. Joan was sympathetic.

  ‘You’ve done your best for both of them, Helen. You mustn’t let them upset you.’

  ‘It’s hard not to. Chloe’s in quite a state. She was in love with Adam and gave him everything.’

  ‘To have his children and then be told he doesn’t want her living with him must have been hell for her.’

  ‘It still is, and he’s not helping to maintain his children. That really bothers her, though I’ve told her not to worry about money; that I’m very happy to have them all live with me.’

  ‘Chloe sees them as her responsibility, not yours.’

  ‘Yes, and she feels she’s ruined her life and can’t see any way out of the mess she’s got herself into.’

  Joan sighed. ‘I wouldn’t know what to suggest either.’

  ‘Rex is very good with her and Marigold is helping with the babies. Anyway, enough of our troubles. How is Walter? Has he managed to find a new accountant?’

  ‘No, it’s an ongoing saga, I’m afraid. As you know, Tom Cleary has been his accountant for the last fifteen years and a good friend to Walter. Tom said he wanted to retire and he’s been advertising for a replacement for him ever since.’

  ‘I thought you’d found somebody?’

  ‘So did we. Walter and Tom picked out the best one from those who applied and told the others the position had been filled. At the last moment it turned out the replacement had been offered a better-paid job elsewhere and turned them down.’

  ‘Oh dear, so Walter’s back to square one?’

  ‘Yes, he’s advertised again and hopes he’ll find somebody soon. Poor old Tom is getting impatient. He had his sixty-fifth birthday two months ago but he’s working on until Walter can find someone to take his place.’

  ‘Walter’s had no luck trying to sell the business?’

  ‘No, not a bite, but he’s happy to carry on for the time being, as long as he can get help.’

  Everything changed for Chloe when she applied for a part-time job in the office of a Liverpool department store. She was delighted to be called in for an interview and found it was a temporary appointment to cover the maternity leave of a member of staff.

  ‘We filled this vacancy some months ago and thought we’d chosen well, but unfortunately our stand-in was injured in a road accident last week and so can’t carry on. We need somebody immediately and it’s for four months only, I’m afraid. Would you be interested?’

  ‘Yes,’ Chloe said immediately. Four months would be long enough to get her up to speed again. Long enough to find out if it was practical to go to work when the children were so young.

  ‘Can you start tomorrow morning?’

  She agreed, and was shown round the office and introduced to some of the staff. Feeling cock-a-hoop, she browsed round the shop and looked through the rails in the children’s department for warm clothes for Lucy.

  Mum and Aunt Goldie were as excited as she was at the news. Rex was invited round and a special celebratory dinner was prepared. He brought a bottle of wine to drink to her success.

  By the next morning she was full of trepidation about whether she could cope with the work. Worse, she felt guilty at walking away from Zac, and to make her feel worse still, Lucy cried when she kissed her goodbye. Chloe told herself she should have expected that and she must get used to it. She should be able to manage anything if it was only for four months.

  To start with, she felt lost without the children tugging at her and demanding attention. But Aunt Goldie told her that once she was out of sight, Lucy and Zac seemed to forget about her and were perfectly happy. She began taking them to the child welfare clinic and seemed to enjoy having responsibilities in the family.

  Without the children, Chloe found she could concentrate on the work she was given. Her job was in the accounts department and her hours were from nine until one. She didn’t find it easy, but once she understood their accounting system, she began to relax and enjoy having more to do. Life as a working mother was totally different.

  When she discovered she was entitled to staff discount on what she bought, she fitted Lucy out with a winter wardrobe. Zac’s needs, she decided, would be largely met by what Lucy had outgrown. She bought herself a new mackintosh and some smart shoes to wear to work.

  She found that the girls in the office were friendly. Most of them were smartly dressed and efficient. All were interested in boyfriends and clothes and going to concerts and theatres and having meals out and holidays. For Chloe, that was a world that had ceased to exist. Yes, she was tempted to be drawn back into it, but she knew she must not. She had responsibilities now. Two of them, as Aunt Goldie kept pointing out, and she had no alternative but to take care of them.

  What she most wanted was a home of her own in which to bring up the children, but it was hardly practical at the moment. She needed Mum and Aunt Goldie to look after them, but perhaps one day, if she saved, it might be possible.

  Chloe was sorry when the four months were up. She felt she’d coped adequately with the work. She was employable again and was promised a reference. She’d taken a big step forward and felt better about everything; she had more energy and was happier.

  Being rejected by Adam had been a bitter and painful experience that had left her feeling adrift, but she’d proved she could manage without him. She’d start looking for another job, a full-time one. She knew where she was going now. She was in control again.

  Leo Hardman was lying on his bed studying the contents of Francis Clitheroe’s file. He’d already done marvellously well out of it by applying for storecards in Clitheroe’s name. He’d provided himself with all the clothes and personal possessions needed, but Clitheroe’s bank would have been notified of his death quite quickly, so Leo could milk nothing more that way.

  He drew out Clitheroe’s security badge bearing the image of a smart professional middle class man. From the first moment Leo had seen it, he’d been sure he could make the fortune he’d always dreamed of by taking Clitheroe’s identity. Over the last few months, it had become an obsession and he’d spent hours and hours searching for the right job to suit Clitheroe’s qualifications and his own needs. At last he thought he’d seen it advertised, but before he could apply he needed a better address. No qualified
accountant would live in a well-known inner-city slum as he did. A prospective employer might be put off before he even saw him, but moving house would cost money he didn’t yet have. It came to him while he was having a smoke after Gary had gone off on one of his rounds that lodgings might provide the cheaper option.

  He decided he’d go for lodgings that provided supper, bed and breakfast from Monday to Friday. He’d live there in the week and tell the landlady his home was in the Isle of Man or somewhere miles away, and he’d had to move to Liverpool to get a job. He’d keep this bedsit on and come back at the weekends. The neighbours here would be unlikely to miss him during the week because he’d been working nights for months, and it would do him good to be able to unwind from being Francis.

  Leo found what he wanted in Gateacre, a more prosperous part of the city, and was able to book lodgings for Francis to move into three weeks hence, at the beginning of next month. If he found a job, he need never mention he was in lodgings; the address was all he’d need to give.

  The big advantage was that if he failed to get a job, he’d just cancel his lodgings and stay where he was. If he started work and something went wrong later on, he’d be able to ditch his new identity in a hurry, and have a safe getaway route already set up.

  Another difficulty was that he didn’t have Francis’s original certificates of qualification. The copies he had looked as though they’d been made by the hotel. Any new employer would more than likely want to see the originals.

  He could say he’d lost them. That he’d had a fire in his house … No, that was too obvious. He’d say he’d lived on a boat on the Thames for a while, that he’d had an accident, a collision and it had sunk. The river authority had lifted his boat because it was causing a hazard to other river traffic but everything he owned had been soaked and much of it ruined and somehow his papers had been lost in the mess and must have been thrown out.

  He’d apologise and suggest his employer write to the Institute of Chartered Accountants in Moorgate, and ask them to confirm that his name was on their list. He could give the date and all the details because he had a copy. That should do the trick.

  Leo had made up his mind. He was keyed up and full of hope as he applied in the name of Francis Clitheroe to five different companies advertising for an accountant. He knew one would suit his purpose better than others, but it depended whether they’d take him on.

  Leo waited impatiently for the best part of a week before he went round to the lodging house to see if he’d had any response to his letters of application. As an excuse, he took a suitcase full of his less important belongings and asked the landlady if she would store it for him. She handed him two letters that had come for him.

  He couldn’t get out quickly enough to read them. One invited him for an interview tomorrow morning at ten thirty. He felt his stomach begin to churn; it was what he’d aimed for and hoped for, but it left him feeling shocked. And he’d only just collected the letter in time!

  The company was called Bristow’s Pet Foods Limited. A family firm, based in Bootle. He immediately caught a bus to Bootle and went to look at the place.

  It seemed quite a big building, old and of smoke-blackened brick. It was busy; there were vans pulling into the yard behind with the firm’s name emblazoned on their sides. It made him feel quite heady to think of what he was about to do.

  He went home and went to bed to work out exactly what he was going to tell Bristow’s tomorrow. He felt exhausted, and as he was used to sleeping for much of the day, he drifted off before he’d decided anything, but woke up at four o’clock with a clear mind.

  The next step loomed. He couldn’t see any firm taking Francis on without a reference from a previous employer. He thought of writing an open To Whom it May Concern type letter, but that was old-fashioned now, especially for a professional man.

  He got out Francis’s file and studied it again. He’d heard nothing at work about it being missing, but it was likely the office staff were being blamed. The hotel had required two references from Francis when he’d gone to work for them. One was a character reference from a vicar who’d thought very highly of him, and the other was from the insurance company in London where Francis had been employed for nine years. That was written in glowing terms too, but both were addressed to the manager of the Exchange Hotel.

  Francis had been working there for only a few months. Leo wondered if it would be feasible to ask the insurance company to send another letter of reference to Bristow’s Pet Foods, saying the hotel job hadn’t worked out and he’d changed his employer. But Francis didn’t seem the type to flit from job to job, and after nine years with the insurance company he might have made friends there who knew of his death. Leo decided that would be too risky. He must give the matter more thought.

  The best he could come up with was to provide copies of the references in Francis’s file, addressed to Bristow’s Pet Foods and with the right date. But Bristow’s had asked him to bring the names and addresses of his referees with him when he came for interview. That was the first hurdle he’d have to face.

  For Francis’s most recent place of employment, he chose a well-known insurance company with branches in London. Leo had once worked as a lowly clerk in a Liverpool insurance office and felt that gave him a little background knowledge of the industry, which might be an advantage if he was questioned about it.

  He drafted out the name and address of a fictitious clergyman living in Chester to provide a character reference. That was the best he could do, though he knew it was his weakest link and if he made a hash of getting references it could kill off the whole plan.

  Evening came and he got up and went to work. He spent many of the night hours wondering what would happen to the requests for references if the person they were addressed to had never heard of Francis Clitheroe. They could write back and say so, or they might just ignore it. Ignoring it would be fine, but the other option would result in disaster for him.

  In the early hours of the morning, he took a shower and washed his hair. The facilities were better at the hotel than those he had at home. He raided the hotel fridge and helped himself to some sausage and black pudding to take home; he’d need to set himself up with a substantial breakfast today.

  When the day staff came on, Leo hurried home feeling exhilarated and on top of his form. He kept his mind focused on what was to come as he prepared himself. He ate his breakfast, then packed his new briefcase with what he thought he might need before getting changed into his pale grey suit for his interview. He must be on his toes, ready to take any opportunity that came up.

  Chloe thought she’d enjoy a week or two at home with the children. It would be a rest and a change. This time she gave some thought as to where she’d like to work, because she wanted a permanent job. The department store had been lovely; she’d like something similar, or a job in one of the city-centre hotels. She answered three advertisements, and was invited for one interview, though she didn’t get the job.

  Her enforced rest was dragging on longer than she’d expected, and Aunt Goldie seemed to resent not having full charge of the children in the mornings. Chloe felt a pang when she saw Zac turn to Goldie for comfort after a fall, but told herself it was only natural. She saw that Goldie’s strict, no-nonsense attitude was doing them no harm and was good for discipline.

  She continued looking for a job, but felt at a loose end. At this time of the year, it was cold out in the garden, but she helped Rex dig over the vegetable plot and decide what should be planted for spring. When her mother arranged to meet Joan in town again for lunch, Chloe was persuaded to go with her.

  Joan was bubbling over. ‘At last Walter thinks he might have found an accountant to take over from Tom.’

  ‘That’ll be a weight off his mind,’ Helen said.

  ‘Yes, though nothing’s decided yet. Judging from his application, Walter thinks he could suit. This is a young man, and Walter says he should have more energy than Tom. He’s coming for an inter
view tomorrow.’

  Leo set off in plenty of time, not wanting to feel rushed, but he was on tenterhooks as he entered Bristow’s premises. Walter Bristow towered over him, a large and gentle-looking man with a hand-clasp like that of a bear. Leo thought him friendly and old-fashioned. He explained how he’d started the business twenty-five years ago, how he’d trained as a vet and suspected that many of the sick animals he treated had been overfed on the wrong food. That had led him to formulate what he considered to be an ideal diet for each species.

  Leo found the questions polite and courteous but none the less deeply searching. He felt wide awake and very much alert. He answered each one as fully as he dared, putting in authentic details when he was asked about his duties in the insurance company; he thought he acquitted himself well. After half an hour or so, Mr Bristow said he’d take him on a tour of the offices. Leo was glad to move; he felt stiff with tension.

  He’d noticed as he’d gone through that five women occupied the large room adjoining the boss’s office.

  ‘This is Mrs Parks,’ Bristow told him, ‘our accounts clerk.’ A stout middle-aged woman had been deftly working a comptometer; now she smiled up at him. Leo froze. She could prove to be a danger; he’d not appreciated there could be clerks working on the same accounts.

  Then he was being introduced to the four secretaries. Leo missed the names of the first two, but registered that Bristow’s secretary was called Miss Gibbs.

  ‘Miss Tomlin is designated as your secretary, but I encourage them all to be flexible and share the work out.’

  Leo tried to smile and appear amiable. All four were quite attractive girls, but the last thing he needed was to make friends here in the office. He must keep his distance from everybody.

  Next he found himself following Mr Bristow down a corridor to meet the retiring accountant, Mr Cleary, who was elderly and courteous too.

 

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