by Sheila Riley
‘You did have a lot to put up with, one way or another,’ he said, watching her relax as he patted her shoulder, but not for long.
‘Aye, and it cost me a bloody fortune to keep it nice for you lot.’
Danny suppressed a knowing smile. His mother would not let a compliment brighten her day when she could wallow in her own umbrage.
‘All my life I’ve thought about others before meself,’ Ada muttered. ‘I’ve been a good wife to a thankless husband and a devoted mother, never a word of complaint has passed my lips.’
Danny raised a dark eyebrow, he begged to differ, but reasoned that silence was the best policy on this occasion. ‘You’ve done your best, Ma. Everybody knows that.’ Danny felt it wise to humour her rather than have a strained atmosphere when their Grace came home. It wasn’t good for the digestion, an atmosphere.
‘I’ve bought some lovely braising steak, so I hope they’re hungry,’ Ada said looking at the clock. ‘She won’t be long now. I can feel it in me bones.’
Those suffering bones, Danny thought as he took cups and saucers off the shelf and put them on a large wooden tray.
‘It does smell delicious, Ma,’ he said, nodding to the oven. ‘I’m sure our Grace and her chap will be starving after all that travelling.’
‘I’m sure they will,’ Ada said with a nod of satisfaction, ‘and Susie has invited herself to tea.’
Danny felt his stomach dip when he looked at the clock. It was six o’clock, his Da would be in from the Tavern soon for his tea and Danny didn’t think he could spend another moment listening to Susie’s tribulations. ‘Does she have to come again tonight?’ Danny said as he straightened an upended cup. He wanted to listen to the latest Dick Barton show on the wireless at quarter to seven. Susie and his mother would jangle all the way through it, waiting for Grace to come home, and his da would storm off to the Tavern again in a huff because he couldn’t hear the wireless properly. Although, Danny knew he didn’t need an excuse to take himself off to the alehouse. ‘I’m sure some bloke is going to make Susie a lovely bride one day.’ But rest easy, it won’t be me.
‘I think she’s been lonely since our Grace went away to sea,’ Ada said, busying herself round the back kitchen. ‘It was good of you to take her to the pictures now and again.’
‘I didn’t intend our friendship to be anything other than that, though,’ Danny answered.
‘I’ve got this feeling in me bones again,’ Ada said, ignoring Danny’s remark. ‘It’s trying to tell me something?’ His ma always talked in a mysterious way when she spoke about this feeling commonly known to everybody as her gift.
Danny raised his eyes to the ceiling, more rational than his mother, he knew the gift, which she swore she inherited from Romany ancestors, could be very hit-and-miss.
‘Maybe you should see the doctor, you might be coming down with something.’
‘Agitation,’ Ada said impatiently, ‘that’s what I’m coming down with. Keeping busy is my only relief from worry.’ She shivered when an icy quiver ran through her generously upholstered body. Why did nobody believe her?
‘At least we’ve got Grace’s homecoming to look forward to,’ Danny said, trying to swerve another conversation about his mother’s perceptive powers.
‘I know what you’re doing,’ Ada said. ‘I know you don’t believe, but look what happened three years ago when I dreamt of water every night for weeks.’ Ada waved a fork in his direction. ‘Nobody took a blind bit of notice then, did they? And look what happened.’
‘What did happen?’ Danny looked perplexed.
‘That trollop Rene Kilgaren went and got herself drowned.’ Ada gave a single nod of her head to stress her words. ‘Did a giddy soul believe me when I said I knew something bad was going to happen…? Not on your nelly.’
Danny did not remind his mother that everybody surmised Rene would come to a sticky end, knocking around with Leo Darnel was a dangerous thing to do, even if he weren’t the one who did her a mischief. Although, it was Evie he felt sorry for, that girl had not had it easy. But she’d made the best of a bad job and now look at her… He lingered on thoughts of how Evie had pulled herself out of the gutter to make a decent life for herself and her family.
‘I don’t know what you’ve got against the Kilgarens, Ma?’ Danny’s voice betrayed a hint of uncharacteristic annoyance.
‘She got over her mother’s death very sharpish, I notice.’ Ada surmised Danny had a soft spot for Evie, and she didn’t want him supporting the whole bloody lot of them, especially when he was going to have his own business. She’d be on him like a fly on a midden.
‘She couldn’t wallow when she was so busy looking after her family, holding down a job and studying for a career.’ Danny felt his blood rising, he felt strongly about anybody, his own mother included, who would bad-mouth Evie. ‘I think she did very well, Ma. I imagine she didn’t have much time for weeping and wailing.’
‘I lost my mother when I was twelve years of age, and I’m still heartbroken.’
‘I know you are, Ma.’ Danny sounded sympathetic, knowing his ma’s mother died thirty-eight years ago and a thought popped uninvited into his head. How long could this woman hold on to such suffering?
‘Evie always has a cheerful smile, right enough,’ Ada said. ‘But I can’t fathom what she has to smile about. Imagine what it must be like to carry the knowledge that your father murdered your mother, and only escaped the rope by the skin of his teeth because he was deemed insane.’
‘That’s enough, Ma.’ Danny’s low, steel-tipped words betrayed the strength of his feelings and he picked up yesterday evening’s newspaper and began to read.
‘Hey, Ma, have a look at this, you’re gonna cry your leg off,’ fourteen-year old Bobby Harris said when he entered the back door, closely followed by Max, Skinner’s dog who followed him everywhere.
‘I’ve scrubbed this house from top to bottom for our Grace coming home with her fi-ancee, so you can throw that mangy mutt out in the yard,’ Ada said, giving the dog a fearsome glare, causing Max to slink under the kitchen table.
‘He’s not mangy,’ Bobby protested, giving the dog’s head a pat. He loved Max to bits and allowing the mongrel to follow him around was the only way he would ever be able to look after one. Ma didn’t like dogs. ‘He’s just a bit tatty-looking.’
‘Tatty or not, he’s not staying in here, send him back to Henry, where he belongs.’
‘Never mind that, Ma,’ Bobby said, pushing the latest evening paper in to her hand. ‘Have a look at page four.’
Ada took the paper and, opening it on the first page, her eye caught the headline:
Smuggled Contraband Intercepted On Way To Liverpool Docks.
‘Not that one,’ Bobby said, trying to turn the page over, but his mother was engrossed in the thieving down the docks. ‘There’s nothing new in that,’ Bobby said impatiently, ‘but you’ll be thrilled when you see what’s on page four. Turn over.’
Ada tutted, sighed, and turned the page over to see a photograph of her Grace singing on board The Marine Spirit. Her very own daughter in the newspaper.
‘It says here, she’s the star of the show,’ Ada gasped, and Bobby nodded.
‘That’s what I tried to tell you before you got mesmerised by the smugglers.’
‘The state of you with your mesmerised.’ Ada gave a little smile, she liked to hear her offspring use words that were out of the ordinary for Reckoner’s Row, and she hadn’t heard anybody use that word. ‘Doesn’t our Grace look magnificent,’ Ada said, gazing at the black and white picture, ‘I can’t wait to see her engagement ring.’
11
‘Your family will be thrilled you are coming home,’ Bruce said.
‘Only to see what presents I’ve brought them.’ Grace laughed. ‘You know what families are like.’
‘Not really.’ His voice was low, husky and that endearing smile made his dark eyes twinkle, melting her heart. ‘When you’re ready, give me a call.’
‘I will,’ Evie said, preparing herself for reality. Theirs had been a magical holiday romance, where passengers and crew treated her like onboard royalty. She slept in a cabin the size of which would make her mother gasp. Grace couldn’t wait to tell the family of the famous people she had met or dined with and pass on the mementos and keepsakes. The books of ship’s matches used by Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, a fabulous couple, were a reminder, and Grace knew the memories would stay with her until the end of her days.
Bruce asked her again to dine with him while he was in Liverpool, and she thought that, perhaps, it was better they said goodbye now, each going their separate ways. After all, his life was in America, hardly a bus ride away. However, leaving him was not as easy as it sounded. Bruce had shown her nothing but loving kindness, they had spent the best of times together, but she wasn’t so naïve to believe their relationship would continue off the ship, away from the balmy beaches, glittering chandeliers and the magic of the moonlight. They were worlds apart.
As the sun began to dip on the horizon, raising Grace’s spirits, Bruce escorted her off the ship at Prince’s Dock. The sight of the Liver Building made her heart soar, but she would be sorry to say goodbye to the man who had made her life so enjoyable and she would miss him.
Ushered through without so much as a glance from uniformed customs officers, Grace was eager to get back to Reckoner’s Row to see her family, yet heartbroken knowing she would not see him again if she didn’t have dinner with him tomorrow night. An early-evening chill eddied off the river, causing Grace to shiver and Bruce to put his arms round her shoulders.
‘So, is it dinner tomorrow? I’ll pick you up.’ His head tilting to one side in that endearing way he had when he asked her something, nodding to the luxurious black Bentley waiting on the dock.
She shook her head and noticed his shoulders droop.
‘Let me take you home at least.’
‘You have a meeting at River Chambers, remember? You won’t make it back in time.’ Grace rolled her vibrant blue eyes when he smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand.
‘That’s what you do to me,’ he said. ‘I’d completely forgotten about that meeting.’ He looked at his gold watch. ‘I need to see you again. I’ll call you.’
‘Of course,’ Grace said. Standing on tiptoe, she leaned forward to kiss his cheek when he put his arms round her waist and pulled her towards him.
‘I will count down the minutes until I see you again,’ he said, looking deep into her eyes and Grace laughed.
‘You are such a smoothie,’ she said, nudging him with her elbow. If she didn’t laugh, she would cry. ‘I’m sure you say that to all the girls.’
‘No,’ he answered, ‘only you.’
When she refused his offer of a lift once more, he raised a confident hand and snapped his fingers, hailing a hackney cab for her. After the driver secured her luggage into the open-access luggage platform at the front, Bruce leaned into the back of the cab, making sure she was comfortable, and their lips met for the last time.
‘I don’t want to spend the night without you beside me,’ Bruce said, his eyes searching, and Grace felt her face grow hot, hoping the cab driver could not hear what they were saying to each other.
‘Neither do I?’ Grace whispered, feeling cherished under his close scrutiny. Not seeing him was going to be heart wrenching.
‘I will count each moment until I am with you, holding you, loving you.’ He said edging out of the cab and closing the door. Grace pulled down the window as the engine of the cab rumbled, and Bruce kissed the inside of her wrist as he had done many times. ‘Take care my love, I will see you soon.’
When he walked over to his car, Grace felt a fizz in her veins. Their time together had been more special than anything she had ever known. But, nevertheless, she would be fooling herself if she thought there could ever be anything between them except a holiday romance.
‘I’m that hungry, me belly thinks me throat’s been cut,’ Bobby said looking like something the cat dragged in, ‘so our Grace had better not be late.’
‘You and Susie would make a lovely couple if only you’d give the girl a chance,’ Ada said to Danny while ignoring Bobby.
Danny pretended he hadn’t heard. He was not interested in marriage and especially not to Susie. He had things to do before matrimonial complications took his mind off the really important issue of owning a successful business.
‘Here, let me get the meat out of the oven.’ Danny took the tea towel from his mother’s shoulder and opened the oven door to a delicious aroma of steak in a rich dark beef gravy, which greeted him when he reached in and lifted the large galvanised dish out of the oven. Almost ceremoniously, he placed the dish in the centre of the kitchen table, where Ada nodded in satisfaction hoping Grace wasn’t going to be late, this meat was just about ready she thought as she popped it back into the oven to keep it hot.
‘I think we’ll have the gravy boat out,’ she said, ‘seeing as we’ve got company.’
Taking it from the shelf, Danny wiped it with the cloth.
‘I doubt there’s another family in Reckoner’s Row who will sit down to a meal as good as this on Bally-Ann day,’ Ada said.
‘Why do they call it Bally-Ann day, Mam?’ Bobby asked as he eyed the delicious food he was impatient to get stuck in to.
‘It’s the name given to a poor day, son,’ Ada said, always happy to feed her son’s hungry mind as well as his belly. ‘The day before payday, when the food cupboard is sparse, and people are forced to scrape a meal together from what little they’ve got.’ She did not inform him that bally-Ann was also a code word for bugger all.
‘Do we have a bally-Ann day, Mam?’ Bobby asked and Ada’s face lit up.
‘Not while I’ve breath in my body, son.’ She was proud of the fact she had provided well for her offspring. They didn’t go without, if she could possibly help it. ‘I’ve passed many a copper to some poor fellow who pulled his tripes out on the dock, working extremely long hours for a decent pay.’
‘Pulled his tripes out?’ Bobby had heard the local expression many times, but didn’t understand exactly what it meant.
‘Aye,’ Ada replied, ‘he has to work his guts out if he wants a decent wage. If he’s lucky enough to get a day’s work in the first place, that is.’ Dockers would be herded into ‘the pen’ like sheep every morning and afternoon. ‘The lucky ones would feel a tap on the shoulder and be hired for a few hours work.’ Ada explained as she bustled about the back-kitchen. ‘No tap meant no work.’
Ada remembered that sinking feeling when she heard her husband coming back from the docks each morning after being rejected for work yet again because of his war wound. Or that’s what he told her. Some, lucky enough to be hired, took it as a perk of the job to slip the odd tin of this or that into his pocket and sell it for a few bob to feed his brood.
‘The Kilgaren kids saw more clean plates than hot dinners after the spiv got his marching orders,’ Ada said, and Danny shook his head. Her ongoing hostility towards Evie and her family filled him with shame.
Ada was proud of the full plates which would be transported to the table in the parlour when Grace arrived home. If she hadn’t done an expensive deal with the butcher this morning, she doubted she would have managed to buy steak as good. But the price was worth paying with her Grace coming back. Not that Ada would let on she bought black-market meat from under-the-counter. Everybody she knew bought rationed food through the back door if they had the readies. ‘The divil looks after his own,’ she muttered.
‘What was that, Ma?’ Bobby asked and Ada turned quickly.
‘Nothing. I was thinking out loud. Now go and wash your hands.’
On his mother’s orders, swishing his hands in the bowl of hot dish water in the sink Bobby rolled a block of green soap between both hands, so he could blow bubbles through his finger and thumb. He couldn’t wait until their Grace came home. His ma wouldn’t be so interested in
him, then.
‘When’s our Grace home then?’ he asked, drying his hands on a clean tea towel before collecting the cutlery from the dresser drawer while Danny went to let Susie in the front door.
‘Any minute,’ Ada said, ‘so I want you on your best behaviour, especially if she brings her young man home.’
‘I’m always getting told off, lately.’ Bobby said heading to the front room to set the table.
‘And we’ll have none of your old buck.’ Ada chastised her young son as she picked up two plates of bread and butter and took them into the front room to see Susie already sitting at the table chin-wagging to Bert, who could talk the leg off a table after a session in the Tram Tavern.
‘Hello, Susie, I didn’t hear you come in,’ Ada said in a tone that barely skimmed hospitable. Susie didn’t answer, obviously engrossed in Bert’s pie-eyed flannel, she would never offer to lend a hand. ‘I’ll go and get the rest of the plates out then, shall I?’ Ada spoke to the back of Susie’s bottle-blonde head, knowing her Grace, brought up proper, if you please, would have jumped at the chance to help her in the kitchen.
‘We’ll eat as soon as our Grace gets home.’ Ada said, sure her daughter would be looking forward to a good home-cooked meal.
Grace Harris’s hackney cab rumbled round the corner into Reckoner’s Row, and the site that met her turned her stomach. Although it didn't take much to make her nauseous lately. Grace rummaged through the American dollars in her purse, searching for a ten-bob note and decided if she still had this stomach bug tomorrow she would go and see the doctor. Although, she was probably just nervous at being home again and she was tired. She’d worked and played hard and now she was back to this, her family home overlooking the Leeds–Liverpool canal in a war-torn street, with a pub at one end and a small derelict wasteland at the other.