Lime Street Blues

by Maureen Lee

  Sean went towards the door, opened it. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t.’

  They were in the corridor. Lachlan pressed the button for the lift. ‘Oh, there’s just one more thing before I go.’ He swung his fist and caught Sean a mighty punch on the jaw. ‘That’s for fucking my wife.’

  Sean staggered backwards, nursing his face, while Lachlan stood there, waiting honourably for his response. But Sean had no intention of engaging in a fight. ‘You’re wrong about only loving myself,’ he said slowly. ‘I love her – Jeannie. I always will.’

  ‘Lachlan and I had planned on going to Paris on my fortieth birthday,’ Jeannie said sadly.

  ‘If you tell me that again, I’ll throw something at you,’ Elaine said threateningly. ‘This jug of cream, perhaps. That’ll make a fine mess of your new frock.’ Jeannie’s frock was misty blue, very plain, with long tight sleeves, the skirt flaring into soft folds from the hips.

  ‘Sorry. I’m not being very good company, am I?’

  ‘The worst. I take my best friend out to dinner on her birthday to the most expensive Chinese restaurant in Southport, and all she does is complain she’s not with someone else.’

  ‘I wonder where he is, what he’s doing,’ Jeannie sighed. ‘I bet he’s not having as good a time as me,’ she added quickly when Elaine picked up the cream. She’d gone through a startling transformation since Jeannie had last seen her. Her bird’s nest of hair had been ruthlessly cut and framed her face in little curly spikes and she wore a red velvet frock with a low neck and cap sleeves, exposing an unusual amount of bosom. Her skin was smooth and creamy. They’d actually finished eating when Jeannie became aware she wasn’t wearing glasses.

  ‘Ah, so you’ve noticed at last!’ Elaine exclaimed. ‘I’ve got contact lenses. They feel dead uncomfortable, but the optician said I’ll get used to them.’

  ‘You remind me of someone I used to know when I was young. Her name was Elaine too, and she was very pretty, just like you.’

  They smiled at each other, and Elaine said, ‘I didn’t want to give our Marcia the opportunity to make any more rude remarks about my appearance. Remember what she said at that Live Aid concert?’

  ‘We’re not likely to meet Marcia tonight, are we?’

  ‘No, no, of course not.’ Elaine went pink for some reason. ‘I was just speaking generally. Would you like more wine?’

  ‘One more glass, then I think we’d better go. The children were in a funny old mood tonight. I’m worried they might be giving Mum a hard time.’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll be able to cope. She coped with you, Max, and Gerald. I bet your Max was a handful, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Not until he began wanting things, like televisions and guitars.’ She frowned suspiciously. ‘Are you trying to keep me here for some reason, Elaine? I’ve a feeling you’re just making conversation. I’m sure you’re not interested in whether Max was a handful.’

  ‘I used to be quite keen on your Max.’

  ‘You’ve never mentioned that before because it isn’t true. You’re playing for time, I can’t think why.’ Jeannie looked around the darkly lit restaurant, already lavishly decorated for Christmas. ‘I half expect the staff to come in with a giant cake and a male stripper will leap out and wish me Happy Birthday.’

  ‘No such luck, I’m afraid.’ Elaine glanced at her watch. ‘Eight o’clock. Come on, let’s go. I’m obviously boring you, and you’re stuck with me until you get home, seeing as we came in my car.’

  They linked arms on the way to the car park. Specks of ice were being blown to and fro by the arctic wind that penetrated their thick winter coats and cardigans. They laughed and began to run. ‘Thank you for the lovely meal,’ Jeannie gasped when they reached the car. ‘I adore fried seaweed, though Lachlan used to say . . .’ She broke off. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘You can mention his name, idiot. Our Lachlan used to say what about fried seaweed? Tell me in the car. I’m freezing to death out here.’

  ‘That it tasted like starched grass. Oh, Elaine!’ she cried, collapsing into the passenger seat. ‘This will be our fourth Christmas without him and each one is worse than the one before.’

  Elaine squeezed her arm. ‘He’ll come back one day, Jeannie,’ she said gently. ‘I can feel it in my bones. He loves you every bit as much as you love him. Whatever it was he did, or you did, I’m sure it will all work out all right in the end.’

  They drove back in silence. The ice turned to snow and began to collect in little heaps at the bottom of the windscreen.

  ‘There’s no lights on inside,’ Jeannie said anxiously when the car drew to a halt outside Noah’s Ark. ‘I hope everything’s all right.’

  She felt even more anxious when she unlocked the door and went inside. The house was unnaturally quiet; no children making their usual din, no television. ‘Mum,’ Jeannie shouted, ‘Ace, Chloe. I’m home.’ She reached for the light switch, but before she could touch it, the lights went on, and a thousand voices, at least it sounded like a thousand, screamed, ‘Surprise!’

  ‘Oh, my God!’ She clutched her throat with a trembling hand. Everyone was there; Mrs Bailey, very old now and unable to walk without a stick, Marcia and her husband, Phil, Fly and Stella, Rita and Mavis, Sadie, all the way from Ireland, Zoe with a man Jeannie had never seen before, Max, her other brother, Gerald, and Helen, his wife, Amy and her useless husband, Eliza, a few faces she had yet to recognise, Benny – what the hell was Benny doing there? And, of course, her mother, beaming happily, and her own lovely children.

  Chloe came dancing up. ‘I’ve known for days, Mummy, but I promised not to tell. And I didn’t, did I?’

  ‘No, sweetheart,’ Jeannie said emotionally, ‘you never breathed a word. This is the biggest surprise of my life. The cars must be parked miles away, there’s none outside. And you’ve put the Christmas decorations up! No wonder Elaine tried to keep me in the restaurant. You’ve all been working very hard.’

  ‘The tree’s done, Mummy. Come and see.’ As Chloe began to drag her into the living room, Jeannie turned and looked beseechingly at Elaine, who understood the message in her eyes.

  She shook her head. ‘No, Lachlan isn’t here,’ she whispered. ‘Max tried his utmost to find him, but he had no joy, I’m afraid. Please don’t let it spoil the party,’ she implored. ‘It’s taken months to organise. Max and I did it between us, your mother’s made some wonderful food, the champagne’s waiting, and every single person we asked said it would be a pleasure to come.’

  ‘It’s a pleasure to have them. Nothing could spoil a party like this.’

  The guests dispersed into other rooms, though some stayed in the magnificent hall where they could see the snow dropping silently on to the green tinted glass roof. It was like being inside a spaceship circling the world.

  Ace was in charge of the music. The first record he played was a Flower Girls LP. ‘Will you still love me tomorrow?’ Rita McDowd crooned, backed up by his mother on piano and the voices of Zoe and Marcia. ‘Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow,’ they chanted.

  Jeannie began to circulate, to thank everyone for coming, agreeing that, yes, it was the biggest surprise of her life. ‘I’m also surprised that you could come,’ she said to Rita. ‘I thought you were still on in the West End.’

  ‘I finished last Saturday,’ Rita explained. ‘Someone else took over my part. Rehearsals start next week for Anna, based on Tolstoy’s novel, Anna Karenina. After six months, we’re transferring to Broadway.’

  ‘I expect you’re playing Anna?’

  ‘Well, yes,’ Rita said modestly.

  ‘How are you getting to America, Mavis?’ Mavis’s aversion to flying was well-known.

  ‘She’s being a real pain,’ Rita complained.

  ‘I’m going by ship, Jeannie. Flying ain’t natural. If the good Lord had meant us to fly . . .’

  ‘I know, I know, he’d have given us wings.’ Rita made a face. ‘She must have said that a million times. I’ve offered to stuff her with gin and Val
ium, but she won’t hear of it.’

  ‘I don’t want to become a drug addict, darlin’.’

  Max came up and asked if she had the key to the studio. ‘I just tried to get in, but the door’s locked.’

  ‘That’s because I’m worried the children might damage something. Why do you want to get in?’ He followed her into the kitchen where she kept the key. The table was full of savoury bites and she could smell mince pies warming in the oven. A giant cake was covered with forty pink candles. She hoped she wasn’t expected to blow all of them out.

  ‘We’re doing a pantomime at school, Aladdin. I wrote the words and music, and I thought it’d be nice to make a few records for the parents. I was wondering if I can still find my way around the equipment. It’s Elaine’s idea. It’s strange,’ he mused, his face softening, ‘I knew Elaine for all those years, yet it’s only over the last few weeks I’ve got to know her properly. Arranging this party could be compared to organising a vast military operation. We ended up meeting every night.’

  Jeannie didn’t show her delight in case it was premature. She said, ‘Does that mean I can expect the entire cast of Aladdin any day soon?’

  ‘You don’t mind, do you, sis?’ he said anxiously.

  ‘I’d welcome it, Max. Though don’t forget, the studio is very old-fashioned. These days, studios are all digital.’

  ‘That doesn’t worry me. I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy.’ Max disappeared into the basement.

  ‘What’s Max up to?’ Fly wanted to know.

  Jeannie explained what her brother had in mind and Fly said he’d go and help. ‘I often think about the great times we used to have down there. Y’know,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘Max wasn’t too bad a guitarist, it’s just that Lachlan was a perfectionist. Everything had to be just right.’

  ‘I know, Fly.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from him?’

  ‘Not a word. I’d’ve told you if I had.’

  ‘Of course you would, Jeannie.’ He went down to join Max. He was a wan, downcast figure, who missed Lachlan almost as much as she did.

  Having exhausted his mother’s records, Ace had now started on his daddy’s. ‘See you later, Alligator,’ Lachlan and Sean’s youthful voices promised. It was the first number on the very first record the Merseysiders had made, bringing back a whole host of memories, both wonderful and sad.

  Nearby, Mrs Bailey said in a wistful voice, ‘I do wish our Lachlan were here, Rose,’ and Jeannie’s mother answered, ‘So do I, Ida. Oh, so do I.’

  ‘Would you like more champagne?’ Chloe asked her grandmas. She was enjoying her role as waitress for the night.

  Across the room, the usually restrained Elaine danced a few exuberant steps in time to the music, and Jeannie wondered if she realised why she was so happy.

  ‘I’ll be leaving in a minute,’ a voice said in her ear. Jeannie winced. It was Benny Lucas whom she had so far managed to avoid. ‘Thank you for the lovely party.’

  ‘I didn’t invite you, Benny,’ she stiffly pointed out. ‘To tell the truth, I don’t know why you’re here.’

  ‘Elaine asked me,’ Benny said humbly. She looked considerably better than when Jeannie had last seen her. Her greying hair had been tinted blonde and she wore a smart black suit. ‘She came to see me, years ago, just after that business . . . well, you know. She arranged to get Mam in a home. It’s a nice place, she’s happy there. I visit her every Sunday.’

  ‘Elaine never told me.’

  ‘She’s been incredibly kind.’ The thin, sad face shone with gratitude. ‘I’m back with the Inland Revenue, only part-time, while Saffron’s at playgroup.’

  Jeannie had no idea what to say. She made a sort of strangled noise in her throat, and Benny went on. ‘You two were always doing things for me at school. I didn’t realise then. I was jealous of your friendship and felt left out, yet you were trying to include me. I should have realised you wouldn’t drop me from the Flower Girls.’ She put her hand on Jeannie’s arm. ‘I’m sorry, Jeannie, for everything. I’m sorry too that Lachlan’s gone. I didn’t know until the other week when Elaine invited me. She thought it would give me the opportunity to apologise. I don’t expect we can be friends again, not after what I did, not after all this time, but I’d like to think you don’t bear me any ill will.’ The pale eyes searched Jeannie’s face for a sign of forgiveness, the absolution of her sins.

  If it hadn’t been for Benny and her monstrous scheme, there’d have been no need for Lachlan to see a doctor for tests. He would never have discovered he couldn’t have children. If it hadn’t been for Benny, right now she and Lachlan would be in Paris, together, having a nightcap before they went to bed, and the last three years would have been very different.

  But Jeannie and Lachlan had both committed sins of their own that were nothing to do with Benny, who had merely been the catalyst that tore their marriage apart. The only thing left was Lachlan’s voice, filling the room with its hoarse passion, asking them if they wanted to be his honey.

  Benny turned away after what had been a long silence. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said dully. ‘I understand. I’d find it hard to forgive if it was the other way around.’ She glanced around the big, cheerful room, full of people. ‘I’ll be forty in a few months, but I won’t be having a party. There’s no one to ask.’

  ‘Benny!’

  The pale eyes shone hopefully. ‘What?’

  ‘On your birthday, let’s go out to dinner – you, Elaine, and me. We’ll get dressed up, make it a special occasion.’

  ‘That’d be very nice, Jeannie. I’ll look forward to it.’ Benny nodded gravely and was gone.

  ‘I’m glad you said that.’ Elaine appeared at her side a few minutes later.

  ‘Said what?’

  ‘Whatever it was you just said to Benny. It must have been something nice because she went home looking happy.’

  ‘You’re nothing but an interfering busybody, Elaine Bailey. I said we’d take Benny to dinner on her birthday. If you don’t come, I’ll never speak to you again,’ she threatened.

  ‘I’ll come, don’t worry.’

  Jeannie’s mother entered the room bearing the cake with all forty candles lit, and Lachlan’s voice was smothered by the sound of everyone joyfully singing ‘Happy Birthday’. Ace and Chloe were summoned to help blow out the candles as their mother didn’t have enough breath to do it on her own. The song finished with a loud cheer and Jeannie was showered with hugs and kisses. She found it hard not to burst into tears.

  ‘I love you,’ she cried. ‘I love all of you. You’re the best friends in the world.’

  She didn’t hear the doorbell ring. She hadn’t known another guest had arrived, until Gerald came in and announced excitedly, ‘Guess who’s here!’

  Lachlan! It could only be Lachlan. She stood, transfixed, in the centre of the room, heart racing, waiting for him to appear, but instead of Lachlan, it was Sean McDowd who entered the room after Gerald.

  Sean saw the disappointment in her eyes. She’d been expecting someone else and it could only be Lachlan, which meant he wasn’t here. Not that Sean cared if he was or not. Lachlan was unlikely to throw a punch in front of the guests and have them wondering why. As for Jeannie, he’d given up on her years ago. Sean had come for one reason only, to see the children that were almost certainly his.

  His mother had told him about the party and Sean had decided to just turn up. Apart from Jeannie, everyone else would be glad to see him. They surrounded him, shaking his hand, thumping his shoulder. People who would once have turned away in disgust from the young Sean McDowd were now his greatest fans. His mother flung her arms around his neck and kissed him and Sean kissed her back with real affection. How dare Lachlan Bailey suggest he loved no one but himself, when he loved his mother with all his heart. His sister too. He hugged Rita fiercely. ‘Hiya, sis.’

  ‘I’m coming to New York next year, Sean,’ she told him. ‘I’m going to be on Broadway.’
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  By God, they’d made it, the McDowds. They were top of the tree. Stars! People paid a fortune to see them.

  ‘Are you really the Sean McDowd?’ It was a little boy who asked. He was very handsome and had Sean’s lean face and dark blue eyes, though his hair was blond. ‘You’re on records with my daddy.’

  ‘Are you the Ace Bailey?’ Sean was aware his eyes were twinkling at the child who was undoubtedly his. Emotions, never felt before, flooded his body; a gush of tenderness, an urge to protect, the awareness that he would kill anybody who dared lay a hand on his son.

  The little boy blushed shyly. ‘You mean you’ve heard of me?’

  Was I ever so naive? Sean wondered. If anyone had asked him the same question when he was the same age, he would have told them to get lost. ‘I hear you’re a very smart kid,’ he said.

  ‘I can play the guitar, but not as good as Daddy. Or you,’ the child added sadly. ‘Uncle Max is teaching me. Daddy used to, but he’s away. He’s been gone an awful long while.’

  ‘There’s plenty of time for you to learn,’ Sean said encouragingly. ‘I’d never even seen a guitar when I was nine.’

  ‘How did you know I was nine?’

  ‘I just did. Is your Uncle Max here?’ He and Max had never got on all that well, but he quite fancied seeing him for old times’ sake.

  ‘He’s in the studio with Fly.’

  Sean fancied seeing Fly even more. ‘Shall we find out what they’re up to?’

  ‘OK.’

  Fly was sitting behind the set of drums that had been a permanent fixture downstairs, while Max idly strummed a guitar. They were talking, but jumped to their feet in astonishment when Sean came in. An incredibly middle-aged, hardly recognisable Max looked quite pleased, and Fly, who was merely an older version of his younger self, ecstatically pumped Sean’s hand. ‘Sean, me old mate. Shit, it’s good to see you!’