Daughters of Penny Lane

by Ruth Hamilton

  Elsie Stewart was frightened, fidgety and in a very bad mood. This was her birthday; it was Alice’s, too. Elsie had been fooled into coming up here to the bedroom for a birthday gift, a dress made by her youngest daughter, and she’d found Peter Atherton, Harry Thompson, Martin Browne and her second daughter, Marie Stanton, waiting for her. Yes, she’d been given a dress; she’d also received the shock of her life, since she was forced to stay in the room.

  The youngest of seven daughters continued to speak to her. ‘Mother, I have suffered otherness for as long as I can remember. I was diagnosed years ago as having petit mal followed by a question mark, but it’s not epilepsy and it never was, so we can scrub that off the page. You wanted me to tell the future but, until recently, I saw only events that had already happened or, occasionally, the present time in another place. And then we moved here, into the house where all seven of us were born, and I began to see and hear more.

  ‘I heard a baby crying, children playing, and a man speaking; I saw Olga Konstantinov’s family being murdered in Russia. In this very room, as well as downstairs, I saw my dad’s tobacco smoke hanging in the air – I could even smell it. Frank used to share the otherness with me, but he got an honourable discharge and I was suddenly alone except for disembodied voices. Dan experienced nothing until quite recently, when he was––’

  ‘What about your boyfriend?’ Elsie asked, her voice unsteady.

  Alice would not be distracted. ‘Harry saw, too. It’s all right, Mother. In love and war, all’s fair. Dan has his own arrangement. May I continue?’

  Elsie, having fired the only bullet in her armoury, sat back. When would that bloody man move away from the door? She needed to escape this madness before it killed her.

  ‘The name Callum fell into my head and out of my mouth. It was totally unexpected, of course.’

  Elsie squirmed. Callum had been her husband’s older brother in Ireland, so what the hell was he doing here? Was it possible that . . . ? No, surely not. She closed her eyes for a moment. Charlie hadn’t . . . God, she was shivering. But this was only the beginning for her. When she opened her eyes, she screamed loudly enough for all Liverpool to hear.

  Charlie ‘Chippy’ Stewart stood beside his Alice. He had adored the youngest child, and he had now placed himself at the right hand of his gifted, difficult daughter. ‘Hello, Elsie,’ he said as if he’d just stepped off the bus from town. ‘Yes, I did. I did all I could for him. I know who and what you’re thinking about.’

  The mother of seven girls lost her ability to speak; she opened her mouth, but not one syllable came forth.

  ‘This is our dad,’ Alice announced, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. ‘He was the loveliest, kindest man, and his wife mithered him to death, didn’t you, Mother?’

  Elsie, stiff as a board, made no further effort to speak. Mother. It was clear that Alice Quigley meant business, and when she meant business, Alice was as keen as mustard.

  Marie, also moved to tears, was being cuddled and comforted by Harry. Alice, his precious neighbour, nodded her approval. Harry was almost family; his behaviour with Marie was natural. Dan seldom came home, so this beloved man was always welcome in Alice’s house. He was affectionate, helpful and generous. He was also hers.

  ‘Back in a minute,’ Charlie said before fading away near Alice’s dismantled bed. His voice remained. ‘Here’s Callum.’

  Callum made a show of himself as usual, throwing colours at walls, singing ‘Abide With Me’, finally shaping himself into an enormous stained glass angel with every colour of the rainbow expressed in the panels. Alice dried her tears and said, almost apologetically, ‘He never grew up.’

  Angel Callum fixed his gaze on Elsie. ‘There have been three of us, Elsie. The oldest Callum died many of Earth’s years ago, and the youngest is currently next door being cared for by Alice’s friends. I am the one in the middle. Surely you remember me?’

  Elsie emitted a sound reminiscent of someone being strangled or garrotted. ‘Go away,’ she managed when her breath returned.

  He moved and shone his lights on Alice. ‘It is unusual, though not unheard of, for a twin to give birth to twins. You did just that, sister.’

  Confused, Alice blinked several times before sinking to the floor. There were three Callums; there was the uncle, the new baby and a . . . brother? Her brother, her twin brother? Her twin was an angel.

  ‘I am the seventh child; you are my twin sister and the eighth born. Since I lived for just a few minutes, I have worked through you, because we grew together in the womb of that terrible woman. Here’s Dad.’

  This time, Charlie’s face showed anger that verged on fury. ‘He breathed, Elsie. You passed him to me and told me to kill “it”. It.’ Charlie shook an index finger. ‘I baptized him Callum after my brother. I’m sure you know that in the absence of clergy anyone may baptize, even with tap water or rainwater. My son got Lourdes water, bless him. Cleansed of mankind’s original sin, he went straight to the Lord and is now an angel.

  ‘When you said something might be done about his open spine, I foolishly passed him back to you and went to fetch the midwife, but our Marie had already gone for her. When I came back to this room, you still had the pillow pressed over his whole little body, including his face. You murdered our only son. He is now standing beside me.’

  Elsie screamed, ‘You buried him! You put him under a flag in the yard. I’m not the only one who did wrong.’

  ‘Yes, I did bury him. I did it because I didn’t want my girls to be labelled as children of a criminal who committed infanticide. I know he might have needed help, a wheelchair, some nursing. But he had the right to life. And he wants his baby bones left where they are, don’t you, son?’

  For answer, Angel Callum spread himself out until the whole room was multicoloured. ‘Stand up,’ he ordered his twin sister. ‘I know you’re a shrimp, but walk as tall as you can.’

  ‘So a midwife delivered me?’ Alice whispered as she rose to her feet.

  ‘Yes,’ Charlie replied. ‘While Callum’s body lay cooling under the bed.’

  Peter shifted slightly when someone tried to open the door. ‘Who’s there?’ he called.

  ‘It’s me – Nellie. I remember, I remember – it’s all come back to me.’

  When Peter opened the door to admit Nellie, Elsie tried to make a break for freedom, but she was dragged back in by her oldest daughter and the man who had guarded the door. ‘Sit,’ Peter snapped.

  The new arrival acted as if she saw her dead father and Angel Callum every day; there was not the slightest sign of nervousness. ‘Two babies,’ she announced. ‘Muth told me that our Alice had stopped crying and started up again, but it was two different cries.’ She turned on her mother. ‘The midwife delivered Alice. So either Alice was born twice, or we were missing one baby. Did you kill our little sister’s twin? Did you?’ She turned to her father, who looked very solid for a ghost. ‘Did she, Dad?’

  ‘She did,’ Charlie replied. ‘His legs were likely to be paralysed, so he wasn’t whole in your mother’s eyes. Once he was dead, she wiped him out of her mind and made Alice the seventh child. But it didn’t work out your way, Elsie, did it? Because the perfect soul of a murdered child went straight into God’s care and became an angel. Look what you lost, what you smothered. He’s bright, funny, beautiful and good. This is the man he would have been, crippled or not. His loyalty to his family, especially to Alice, is boundless.’

  Nellie addressed the mother she loathed. ‘The best thing you can do is bugger off as far as you can from Liverpool. None of us can forgive you for killing our little brother. We wanted a boy, and we would have looked after him. But no. You were too bothered about what people might say when you birthed a child who was less than perfect. Have you any idea how much I want to break your neck, how badly our Alice wants you gone? She was nice to you for a reason, and that reason is today, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ Alice replied. She was taken aback somewhat by this disp
lay of strength on the part of her oldest sister, who was known to be hesitant and edgy when facing the unusual. Nellie had found her backbone, so something good had come out of this difficult evening. ‘You’d better go, Mother. Pack up and clear out before I change my mind and get that flag lifted.’

  ‘Your dad buried it, not me.’

  ‘Yes, and Dad’s dead. You’re not, so you’ll cop for the lot.’ Alice raised her head higher – it had been bowed and buried in thought for long enough. ‘Would you mind leaving – all of you? I want to say goodbye to my brother, my other half.’

  Elsie fled like a bat out of hell while Marie and Nellie waited for a minute or two to drink in the impossible vision of their two dead male relatives. Then, hand in hand, they left.

  Alone at last with Charlie and Callum, Alice listened intently to their advice. ‘Dan’s not a bad man,’ Charlie said.

  Callum agreed. ‘He’s weak rather than bad. The reality of the twins scared him, and he turned to that woman because she’s as stupid as he is. This will sound odd, but he still loves you. He’s in awe of you, Alice. He knows you’re a lot cleverer than he is.’

  ‘Long spells in hospital made him used to being waited on.’ Charlie smiled. ‘So losing your attention to the twins is too much for a spoilt child to endure. You’re looking after him and the babies as best you can – treating him like the brother who was stolen from you. We have to go now, love.’

  Alice panicked. ‘Will I never see you again?’

  Callum laughed. ‘Perhaps not, but you’ll know we’re nearby.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Her tone was sad, because she would surely miss Callum and his tricks. As for Dad . . . she blinked away new tears.

  ‘It’s easier for us,’ Charlie Stewart said. ‘We don’t measure time. Just live your life and be happy, Alice. You don’t need a divorce; Dan knows he’s doing wrong, and Purgatory will be his first destination.’

  And they were gone in the blink of an eye. In their wake, Callum’s voice, quieter now, reminded her that he was number seven, while she was the eighth child. She felt abandoned and lonely, but she had no right to such emotions. ‘I have my twins and Harry,’ she mused aloud, ‘and my sisters, plus some very good friends. Yes. I’m a very wealthy woman.’

  She walked to one of a pair of windows and looked down on Penny Lane. So much had changed, but the lane, like Old Man River, remained the same. ‘No more Callum,’ she whispered, ‘no more fooling about and making me laugh.’ Other changes had occurred, of course. Olga and Peter now lived on Menlove Avenue, Vera was married to Yuri, Dan was drinking too heavily, Harry acted as father to Ellie and Callum.

  She missed Dan, the daft Dan who had chased her through Blackpool, through most of Liverpool and all the way to an altar. She still fed him, washed and ironed his clothes, had conversations with him. Deep inside, she knew when her marriage had gone wrong, so she took herself to that point. It had been about pregnancy, no more than that, but it had been too clinical for her, while twins had been one too many for him to cope with. ‘And enter Harry, stage right,’ she murmured. He was right, right for her and for the twins. ‘I am now guilty of adultery.’ She wiped the silly smile off her face.

  A black car stopped outside and two men stepped out of it and towards her path. Before leaving her post at the window, she knew who they were and why they were here. ‘Ta-ra, Dan,’ she whispered. Her heart leapt about for a few seconds, finally resting in her chest like a lump of lead.

  Voices climbed the stairs, but the words were unclear.

  The bedroom door opened. ‘You all right, queen?’ Nellie asked.

  ‘Not bad, love. What’s going on?’

  The oldest Stewart sister arrived at the side of the youngest. ‘Muth’s gone. She said she’s catching a train in the morning, and we won’t see her again.’

  Alice turned. ‘Not interested in her, Nellie. Tell me about the men downstairs – are they plain clothes coppers?’ She waited. ‘Well?’

  A few slow seconds strolled by. ‘It’s not good news. Dan’s had a heart attack in the Liver pub up Waterloo way.’

  ‘Is he in hospital?’

  Nellie sniffed. ‘He was. But he’s in the morgue now, love. Martin says he’ll go with you to identify his body. I mean, they know who he is . . . who he was, but they need to do things properly. Don’t cry, love. You’ve shed enough tears for one day. Harry’s waiting for you downstairs with the policemen.’

  ‘Nellie?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Go next door and explain to Vera, Olga and Yuri. And yes, I’ll borrow your Martin.’

  ‘They said tomorrow would do, but I think you should get it over and done with, Alice.’

  The younger woman straightened. ‘So do I, Nellie. So do I.’

  Thus ended Alice Quigley’s thirty-fourth birthday. It had begun with gifts and cards, but now it was ending with the loss of Dad, Callum, Dan and Muth. Alice would go with Martin to confirm her husband’s death, as it would seem strange to take Harry. She set her shoulders firmly. ‘Come on, Nellie. I have to tidy poor Dan away.’ She thanked God for Harry before setting out to close a chapter. Soon, a new story could begin.

  Seventeen

  JUNE 1953

  My dear, beautiful children,

  Callum and Ellie, I thank you for behaving so nicely through the coronation of our new Queen. Daddy says he will get a television set soon, and we won’t need to go to Auntie Olga and Uncle Peter’s house to watch important events. Of course, I missed the Vivat Regina bit, as our Kristina – please remember she’s younger than you twins are – had one of her famous tantrums and I had to take her out into the garden.

  Alice grinned. Kristina’s tantrums were spectacular, though she was almost three. At just two, about a year ago, she had decided that making a fuss was fun, that Daddy or Mummy might read to her in order to calm her down, and that being in charge was great. Kristina – one of Olga’s given names – was a character. Reading a few weeks before her third birthday, the young Kristina was also a capable child. Alice picked up her pen.

  We had a lovely coronation party, didn’t we? Ellie and Kristina, you were so beautiful in the frocks I made. Callum, you were in your first grown-up suit, also tailored by me. Daddy looked posh enough to be waiting at table for the Queen, the Duke and their children, and I didn’t look bad for my age. You will always remember where you were when Queen Elizabeth was crowned. It was wonderful.

  Olga had seemed a little sad, Alice thought. The Romanovs had been related to the Windsors, probably via Queen Victoria’s brood, though Alice wasn’t sure. The pomp and circumstance meant a lot to a Russian whose family had been royal, and Olga had wept through ‘Zadok the Priest’, the coronation anthem. ‘Hello, Frank,’ Alice said. He was older, slower, but as gentle and sweet as ever.

  Kristina, it will be your birthday in sixteen days. Ellie and Callum, at six years of age, you have already ventured out into the world of school, and I am so proud of you, as is Daddy. I’m glad it didn’t rain when we took flowers to Daddy Dan’s grave.

  Poor Dan. Poor Molly, too. The girl had been destroyed by the loss. Alice’s twins were Dan’s, and Kristina was Harry’s, but all three called Harry Daddy, and Dan was Daddy in heaven. Everything was explained in one of Alice’s letters, though details were few, and there was no mention of her mother or her deceased twin brother.

  Frank lay at her feet. Every time she thought about losing him, her heart hurt. They’d been through a lot together, first living as tenant and guard dog in the Sefton Park flat, later here, on Penny Lane. Now, another move was on the cards because Marie and Nigel were going to live their dream out in Africa. There they would care for young, orphaned or abandoned lions with the intention of returning them to the wild once they grew strong enough.

  ‘Don’t worry, Frank. Larry the llama has settled down at last, and you like Marie’s dogs and cats, don’t you?’

  The boxer raised an eyebrow.

  She laughed at him. ‘Don’t you beli
eve me? Honestly, Larry’s much better. And you love donkeys and horses. Harry will be back soon, and he’ll take you for a wander down the lane.’ Frank’s tame pigeon had disappeared years ago; perhaps he would feel better when surrounded by Nigel’s miniature zoo. ‘Leo will visit, too. You’ll be fine – just you wait and see.’ He had better be fine; Alice adored her old boxer.

  Harry’s house was already tenanted, as he had moved in with Alice and the twins after the wedding. Alice’s place was now advertised for rental, since she, Harry and their children were moving into Chesterfields, which was too valuable a house to be left empty for years. Nigel had sold the veterinary practice, while poor old Toothy Tommy was too frail to care for the house, the grounds and the animals without help. ‘I’ll miss Penny Lane, Frank. It’s not just you – I’m used to living here, too.’

  She stared through the window near which she always sat to write her journal. Mrs Wolstenholme was out donkey-stoning her step. Her skirt had ridden up, so Alice had a good view of huge tea-rose pantaloons with elastic at the knees. The old lady was as deaf as a post, so there was no point in trying to shout about the enormous knickers.

  Vera was sweeping, glasses slipping down her nose as usual. Alice giggled. Her neighbour did a better job than the corporation when it came to the cleaning of this section of Penny Lane. ‘What will it be like, Frank, living in a detached house? We’ve always had neighbours, haven’t we?’

  Frank snored while his owner complained about his lack of interest in their new situation. She returned her attention to her letter.

  So I’m sitting here looking out at the lane. Kristina, you’re visiting Auntie Nellie in Blundellsands. Auntie Nellie and Uncle Martin sold their shop and bought a house in Crosby to be near their grandchildren. Your cousins Claire, Janet, Kevin and Paul run a big factory that makes wonderful furniture, and their children are lovely. Callum and Ellie, you are at school. I want you to read this when you are adults, so that even the smallest details of our happy lives might be relived and enjoyed by you.