Megan of Merseyside

by Rosie Harris

  ‘You little goose.’ He laughed. ‘So when are we going to have a night out together, then? What about Monday?’

  Megan’s face flamed. ‘I go to night school on a Monday night.’

  ‘Give it a miss. Go on,’ he urged, ‘it won’t hurt to skip one lesson.’

  Megan hesitated. She had dreamed of going out with Miles ever since their first meeting but Monday was out of the question. This particular Monday evening there was an end of term test and such a lot depended on her marks.

  ‘I really am sorry, Miles, but it’s impossible. You see …’

  ‘Oh come off it! Of course you can if you really want to,’ he said impatiently.

  ‘No, really I can’t. I am free tonight,’ she added hopefully.

  ‘Well I’m not,’ he told her curtly. He looked at his watch. ‘I must be off,’ he said abruptly. ‘See you around sometime!’ He raised his hand in a brief wave and was gone.

  Megan stood staring after him, her eyes blurred by tears, a lump in her throat. If only he had given her a chance to tell him why she couldn’t skip night school on this particular Monday, she was sure he would have understood.

  She brooded about it all over the weekend, explaining her moodiness away by saying she was worried about the forthcoming tests.

  ‘You’ll do fine,’ her mother consoled her. ‘Anyway, what does it matter if you don’t?’

  ‘It’s important that I get good marks because they’ll send an end of term report to Miss Pearce and she will probably show it to Mr Walker.’

  ‘Well, you can’t be expected to know very much yet, you’ve only been going to these classes for a couple of months,’ her mother pointed out. ‘It must take years to learn shorthand. All those silly squiggles! I don’t know how you can ever remember what they are supposed to mean.’

  Chapter Six

  THE OPPORTUNITY TO sort things out with Miles came much sooner than Megan expected. When he came into the office on Monday morning to pick up some documents that he needed to take with him down to the docks, Mr Newbold sent him across to her desk for them.

  Finding Miles standing so close to her, Megan’s mind almost went blank. She didn’t even hear what he had asked for, not until he had repeated it a second time.

  ‘Yes, of course. They’re here, somewhere.’ In her confusion, she knocked over a pile of invoices and they scattered around his feet like falling leaves.

  Miles gathered them up and placed them back on her desk. Deftly, he sorted out the papers he needed and made to leave.

  Panic stricken because she hadn’t explained her reason for not going out with him, Megan grabbed at his arm. At that moment, Valerie Pearce walked into the general office.

  ‘Sorry! Have I taken the wrong ones?’ Miles leaned over the desk as though checking the papers he was holding against some of the others lying on Megan’s desk.

  ‘I’ll be in touch, so don’t try to say anything to me now,’ he warned in a low voice as he straightened up.

  ‘Is there a problem of some kind?’ Miss Pearce asked, bustling over and looking from one to the other with a puzzled frown.

  ‘Everything is in order now,’ Miles told her blandly. ‘Megan was trying to stop me from walking off with the wrong set of documents.’

  ‘I see. Are you quite sure it is all sorted out correctly now?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Miss Pearce, I’ve got the right ones here.’ He waved the sheaf of papers, then left the office whistling.

  In the build-up to Christmas, Megan’s hopes that Miles would contact her as he had promised to do began to fade. He seemed to be coming into the office very early in the morning, before she started work.

  Several times she was tempted to leave a message in his tray, hidden among the bills of lading or custom documents. The only thing that stopped her doing so was that she was scared it might get into the wrong hands.

  It would be disastrous if Bob Donovan, the other shipping clerk, picked it up and read it. Or, even worse, what would happen if Mr Newbold or Miss Pearce came across it?

  If she hadn’t heard from Miles by the time they closed for the bank holiday, then perhaps she’d leave a Christmas card on his desk, she decided. Surely no one would think that there was anything wrong in her doing that?

  Her spirits sank when, on Christmas Eve, Miss Pearce announced they would be closing the office early, at one o’clock. She said that it was in order to give everyone the afternoon off so that they would have time to finish any last minute Christmas shopping.

  Despondently, Megan resigned herself to the fact that her last chance of seeing or hearing from Miles was gone. She didn’t even have the heart to take the risk of leaving a Christmas card on his desk for him.

  At midday, Mr Walker came into the general office to wish everyone a happy Christmas. With a stiff smile and a curt handshake, he presented each of them with a bottle of sherry.

  Megan found herself trembling as her turn came because Miles, looking suave and handsome, had joined his father. Simply knowing that he was in the same room made her pulse quicken.

  She tried to concentrate her attention on Mr Walker, and to smile and thank him properly for her present.

  When Miles also shook her hand she found herself blushing furiously. As their eyes met she felt transfixed by his blue gaze; so much so that she was unable to reply when he wished her a very happy Christmas.

  ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you in the New Year,’ he added quietly before he let go of her hand. He said it so softly that she wondered if she’d imagined it.

  His words floated inside her head, though, for the rest of the day. Although she knew she was probably making too much of it his words filled her with hope.

  She had been dreading Christmas, knowing it would be so very different from previous ones spent with friends and neighbours in their snug little cottage in Beddgelert. Now that no longer seemed to matter. She would be able to dream her way through the holiday knowing she had something special to look forward to afterwards.

  Along with the rest of the family she even promised her father that she’d make his co-driver, Robert Field, who had been invited to spend Christmas Day with them, feel welcome. Privately, though, Megan agreed with Lynn that he sounded rather a bore. They had already decided that he would be at least as old as their father, possibly grey haired and certainly pompous.

  He seemed to be the only person her father had made friends with and it annoyed both her and Lynn the way their dad always seemed to be quoting this man’s opinion on every subject under the sun.

  Meeting Robert Field for the first time on Christmas Day, they were both surprised at how wrong they’d been. It came as a shock to find he was only in his late twenties and really quite presentable in his charcoal-grey suit, light-blue shirt and grey tie.

  Tall and broad framed, he had the well-developed muscles of a man used to doing manual work, but he certainly wasn’t a rough workman. He was quietly spoken, he had a warm, friendly smile and was quite good-looking. His thick, light-brown hair, brushed back from his brow, gave his face a lean, strong look.

  Robert had brought them all gifts. For Kathy, there was an elaborate box of toiletries, malt whisky for Watkin, a lead-crystal paperweight for Megan and a jazz record for Lynn.

  Megan stood holding her present, viewing the intricate blue, white, pink and purple pattern through the multifaceted sides and thinking she had never owned anything quite so lovely before.

  If only it had been a present from Miles, she mused!

  The moment the thought came to her she looked up guiltily, conscious that Robert was watching her, his light-blue eyes speculative.

  ‘It’s lovely,’ she exclaimed quickly. ‘Thank you very much.’

  His face relaxed into a smile. ‘I’m glad you like it. I thought you might find it useful since you work in an office …’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t dream of taking this in to work!’ she interrupted quickly. ‘No, it will have a treasured place here …’ She stopped,
blushing furiously, hoping he wouldn’t read more into her words than she had intended.

  When her mother called out from the kitchen that she needed someone to help her, Megan quickly made her escape.

  The rest of the day passed pleasantly enough. They sat down to turkey with all the usual accompaniments, followed by a traditional plum pudding, which Robert ceremoniously lit. Afterwards they were all replete and so relaxed that they even enjoyed listening to Lynn’s new jazz record.

  Later, after mince pies and Christmas cake, they played cards until it was time for bed.

  ‘It’s much too late for Robert to go home,’ Watkin pronounced. ‘Fetch some blankets, Kathy, and make him up a bed on the couch.’

  Boxing Day dawned crisp and clear. There was frost glistening on the rooftops, and the sun was shining from a blue sky. After a rather late breakfast, Robert suggested that they should all go to New Brighton and take a walk along the promenade.

  Lynn and Megan enjoyed the crossing. Although they had been living in Liverpool now for over three months it was the first time they had been on one of the ferry boats.

  ‘It must be wonderful living over on this side of the Mersey,’ Megan remarked as they walked briskly along the promenade towards Wallasey Village. ‘Those houses high up on our left must have views right out to sea.’

  ‘Yes, they can probably even see right over to the Welsh mountains when the weather is as clear as it is today,’ agreed her father.

  ‘Mr Walker lives in one of those houses,’ Robert told them.

  ‘Really!’ Megan looked startled. ‘Do you know which one it is?’

  ‘It’s that big white place right at the edge of the headland. Can you see it? It looks like a miniature castle.’

  Megan couldn’t tear her gaze away from the magnificent building. With its crenellated walls and round tower at one corner, it looked like something out of a fairy tale.

  The thought that Miles was so near was disturbing. She felt the blood rushing to her face when Robert said conversationally, ‘The Walkers also have another place over in Wales, so I expect they’re spending Christmas over there.’

  Suddenly the walk had lost its appeal for Megan. She wanted to know where in Wales the Walkers’ place was, but she didn’t like to ask. She felt that if it was anywhere near their old home then that would be another link between herself and Miles.

  She shivered and clutched her coat more tightly round her. She longed for the Christmas holiday to be over so that she could be back at work and see Miles again.

  When Robert asked, ‘Are you feeling cold, Megan? This wind is a mean one, shall we turn back?’ she was the first to agree.

  Chapter Seven

  MEGAN’S PLEASURE IN returning to work on the Monday after Christmas was something of an anticlimax. Very few boats had entered or left the port over the holiday period. As a result, there were no bills of lading to process so she found herself at a loose end.

  Even more disconcerting was that she wouldn’t be seeing Miles. Along with Bob Donovan, the other shipping clerk, and Mr Newbold, they had been given some extra days off and so they wouldn’t be back at work until the New Year.

  The only people in the general office were Mavis Parker and Olive Jervis, and after a brief, disinterested greeting they completely ignored her.

  Mavis spent most of her time perched on the end of Olive’s desk, near the switchboard. The two of them were sharing details of how they had spent Christmas and what presents they had received. Whenever they heard the tap of Valerie Pearce’s heels, Mavis would scuttle back to her own desk and hammer away on the typewriter at her usual frantic speed.

  Confident that she could now type reasonably well, Megan rather shyly suggested to Mavis that perhaps she could help by typing up some of the invoices.

  ‘What’s going on, you after my job, or something, kiddo?’ Mavis asked as she and Olive exchanged amused glances.

  ‘No, of course not! I haven’t any work to do and you seem to be snowed under,’ explained Megan, indicating the huge pile of work stacked up on Mavis’s desk.

  ‘Well, OK then. I suppose it will be all right. Have a go if you want to, but don’t go making any mistakes or messing them up, mind.’

  ‘Robert Field came to your place on Christmas Day, didn’t he?’ commented Mavis when Megan returned a batch of neatly typed invoices.

  ‘Yes, he did. My father is his co-driver, and he invited him,’ explained Megan. She felt uncomfortable and wondered how on earth they could have known about Robert spending Christmas with them.

  When they’d lived in Beddgelert, it had been understandable that in such a small village everyone knew everybody else’s business, but here, in a city the size of Liverpool, it was uncanny.

  ‘You’ll soon learn that you can’t have any secrets in this place,’ teased Olive, leaving her desk and coming over to join them.

  ‘Is your dad a member of this new Plaid Cymru outfit that’s started up in Wales?’ probed Mavis, her green eyes hard and sharp.

  ‘Why do you want to know about something like that?’ Megan hedged as she saw Mavis and Olive exchange knowing glances.

  ‘The police were here making enquiries about him a couple of weeks back … after that fire at the Top Ten Jazz Club.’

  Megan looked bemused. ‘I don’t understand what you’re talking about.’

  ‘You must have read about the fire. It was on the front page of the Liverpool Echo,’ Mavis reminded her.

  ‘The police think it was a torch job,’ explained Olive. ‘The club only opened at the beginning of December and two weeks later it was burned to the ground.’

  ‘And they thought it might be Plaid Cymru who’d done it,’ added Mavis. ‘They’re pretty ruthless at burning places down so as to get attention, aren’t they!’

  ‘I don’t know what you are talking about and I don’t know what on earth it has to do with my father,’ defended Megan hotly.

  ‘Nothing, possibly,’ Olive shrugged. ‘The police were making enquiries, though, and Watkin Williams was one of the people they wanted to question. Didn’t he tell you?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘I thought that must be why your dad asked Robert Field to your place for Christmas, because he was grateful to him. It was Robert who spoke up and cleared his name,’ Mavis added cattily.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Robert Field told the police that your father was with him when it happened. He gave him an alibi, if you see what I mean.’

  The news disturbed Megan. She could think of nothing else all morning and at lunchtime she went to see if Lynn was at the Stork Club to find out what she knew about it.

  Tentatively, she explained to the doorman that she had a message for her sister and she thought she might be in there.

  ‘You mean you want to go in and join her?’

  Megan shook her head. ‘I have to be back at work in twenty minutes,’ she explained.

  ‘But you wanted to have a word with her?’

  ‘Yes.’ Megan gave a small smile.

  He frowned heavily and for a minute Megan thought he was going to turn her away.

  ‘You better go in and see if she’s in there, then!’

  The Stork Club was packed and just as smoky and noisy as Megan remembered it from her previous visit. The only difference was that instead of the music being supplied by a live band, it was coming from gramophone records.

  Megan found Lynn, with about ten other girls, moving in time to the music that was blaring out.

  ‘Whatever are you doing here, Megan? Have you come to spy on me?’ Lynn gasped as her sister grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to one side.

  ‘No! I want to ask you something.’ She paused and looked round hesitantly and then lowered her voice. ‘Did you know that Dad was questioned after the Top Ten Jazz Club burned down a couple of weeks ago?’

  ‘Yes, of course I did!’

  ‘And you never told me!’

  ‘The police came one night wh
en you were out at night school.’

  ‘And you mean that none of you thought to tell me about it when I got home!’ Megan repeated in astonishment.

  ‘Our mam was upset and said she didn’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘That’s not the point! I should have been told,’ Megan fumed.

  ‘Don’t shout at me,’ Lynn scowled. ‘I was probably in bed when you got home.’

  ‘You could have told me next day.’

  Lynn shrugged. ‘What are you getting so upset about? Everything was all right. The police went away when he told them that he wasn’t even near there and that Robert Field could vouch for him and prove that he had nothing at all to do with it.’

  ‘And no one said a word to me about what had happened! Can you imagine how I felt today when someone at work asked me about it?’

  Lynn pulled a face. ‘Keep your hair on. It’s no big deal.’

  ‘You don’t understand, do you! I felt awful not knowing anything about it. I think they thought I was trying to cover up.’

  ‘So what!’ Lynn said dismissively. ‘It’s all over and forgotten now.’

  ‘Maybe it is, but I still want to know why the police picked on our dad,’ Megan insisted in a bewildered voice.

  Lynn shrugged her shoulders. ‘That’s the way of it when you’re a stranger.’

  ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘Flash did. He said that Dad’s new round here and when the police heard that he had come from Wales then it made him a number one suspect when something like that happened.’

  ‘Flash says?’ Megan frowned. ‘Does that mean you are still meeting him?’

  ‘Of course I am. I’d have a job not to since he’s a regular here.’ Colour flooded Lynn’s round cheeks and she avoided Megan’s eyes.

  ‘You watch your step with this chap Flash,’ Megan warned. ‘I bet he doesn’t know that you are still only a schoolgirl.’

  ‘I shan’t be for much longer,’ Lynn told her, tossing her head defiantly.

  ‘Oh yes you will be, for quite some time yet,’ Megan assured her. ‘If you pass your exams this summer then you can go on to technical college …’