Megan of Merseyside

by Rosie Harris

  ‘We’ll celebrate by having the best Christmas ever,’ he promised. ‘With all the overtime I’ve been doing lately we will certainly be able to afford it,’ he enthused.

  ‘Don’t count on me being around much of the time,’ Lynn told him. ‘I might be working.’

  ‘They’re not going to open the Copper Kettle on Christmas Day, surely?’ her father exclaimed angrily. ‘You spend far too much of your time there as it is.’

  ‘You’ve always said if a job’s worth doing then it’s worth doing well,’ she told him pertly, shrugging her shoulders.

  ‘Job!’ he repeated angrily. ‘I don’t consider that a job, not for one minute. I thought that by now you would be tired of the place and fed up with handing out bacon butties and mugs of tea and found yourself some proper work.’

  ‘I did think of going to work at the Stork in the New Year, looking after the cloakroom.’

  ‘Stop teasing, Lynn. They’ve already got someone doing that job,’ Megan pointed out.

  ‘Yeah, but she’s joining one of the bands as a singer so they’re looking for someone to take her place.’

  ‘Take no notice, Dad, she’s just kidding,’ Megan said quickly as she saw her father’s dark eyes blaze and knew his anger was rising.

  Afterwards, when they were alone in the bedroom they shared, Megan tried to persuade Lynn that it really was time she looked for a better job.

  ‘Look, just because you’re angling for promotion there’s no need to come all holier than thou with me,’ Lynn retorted. ‘I like what I’m doing, thank you very much,’ she added, moving across to the mirror and starting to style her hair.

  ‘If you enjoy being a waitress then why not try for a job in one of the restaurants? You’d earn more money, for a start!’

  As their eyes met in the mirror, Lynn pulled a face and gave an exaggerated shrug.

  ‘Promise me you’ll think about it, Lynn,’ Megan pleaded.

  ‘Perhaps,’ Lynn told her laconically. ‘Do you like my hair cut as short as this?’

  ‘No, I don’t! It makes you look like a boy,’ Megan told her critically.

  ‘It’s no worse than the way you do yours,’ Lynn argued. ‘You’re still wearing it tucked back behind your ears like you did when you were a kid at school,’ she added deprecatingly.

  ‘I like it this way,’ Megan told her firmly. ‘At least it’s tidy! Yours looks like a bird’s nest most of the time, especially when you go out in the wind.’

  ‘Yeah, and yours stays all neat and prissy, like those prim little dresses you wear. Talking of clothes, Meg, what I would really like for Christmas,’ Lynn said in a wheedling voice, gazing starry eyed at her sister, ‘is a fur coat.’

  ‘Then you’d better get a job where you earn more money so that you can save up for it,’ Megan told her cuttingly. ‘Do you know how much they cost?’

  ‘How about you, Mam and Dad buying it between you?’ Lynn suggested, hopefully.

  ‘I don’t know. I might get you one for your birthday in February. I should know by then whether I’m going to get my promotion. If I do become Mr Walker’s secretary I’ll probably get a pay rise and then I might be able to afford to buy you one,’ Megan told her.

  ‘Fur coats might be out of fashion next year!’ Lynn said sulkily. ‘Anyway, the winter will be almost over by then.’

  ‘Well, in that case, the prices may have come down or I might be able to buy it in the sales.’

  ‘Trust you to think of picking one up cheap,’ Lynn said with a curl of her lip. ‘I’m going to ask our mam if I can have one for Christmas. If she agrees, will you put some money towards it? It’s what I want more than anything in the world, and I know you haven’t done your Christmas shopping yet,’ she persisted.

  ‘How do you know? Have you been rummaging in my cupboard again? You’ve not been borrowing anything of mine, I hope.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be seen dead in any of your clothes,’ retorted Lynn scathingly. ‘Ta anyway, I’ll tell Mam you said OK about the fur coat.’

  Megan shrugged helplessly. It wasn’t what she had said at all, but she knew it was pointless to argue with her. Perhaps a warm coat would be a good present for Lynn, though, since her skirts were always so short, but she wasn’t sure about it being a fur one.

  When she mentioned to her mother the idea of them clubbing together to buy a coat for Lynn, Megan found that her sister had already been dropping hints.

  ‘Don’t worry about it, luv. I’ve already picked one out. It’s exactly what she wants!’

  ‘They’re awfully expensive …’

  ‘I asked the shop to put it to one side and I’ve been paying off a few pounds each week,’ Kathy told her proudly.

  ‘Do you want me to put some money to it?’

  ‘That’s up to you,’ her mother answered. ‘The only trouble is, it means she will only get one present and you know how Lynn likes to have lots of parcels to open. She’s still only a kid, remember.’ She smiled fondly. ‘Why don’t you buy her something else.’

  ‘Can you suggest anything?’

  ‘Well, yes. I’ll let you into a secret.’ Her mother lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘Robert is buying our Lynn a new gramophone that has one of those horn things. I think they call them loudspeakers. Why don’t you buy her some records.’

  ‘Robert’s buying us presents again this year!’ Megan exclaimed in dismay. ‘Whatever for?’

  ‘Well, I suppose he thinks it’s a nice thing to do since he’s coming here for his Christmas dinner.’

  ‘We invited him last year! I was looking forward to us having this Christmas on our own … It’s not the same with a stranger here,’ muttered Megan resentfully.

  ‘It’s probably so that he can be with you that he’s so keen on coming.’ Kathy smiled. ‘Mind you, I don’t know why he bothers since you practically ignore him,’ she added tartly.

  ‘I do not! I’m perfectly civil to him!’

  ‘Until he asks you to go out somewhere with him and then you snap his head off.’

  ‘He shouldn’t keep asking,’ retorted Megan, her colour rising. ‘I’ve told him enough times that I don’t want to go out with him.’

  ‘Why ever not? He’s not bad looking. He owns his own house and he earns as much money as your dad. Think how well off you’d be married to someone like that.’

  ‘Stop matchmaking, Mam! I’ve told you, I don’t think of Robert Field in that way.’

  ‘You don’t think of him at all, that’s the trouble.’

  ‘He’s all right … as a friend of the family.’

  ‘If our Lynn was a couple of years older, and he showed the interest in her that he does in you, she’d go out with him.’

  ‘From the way she ogles him whenever he comes here she’d jump at the chance right now,’ Megan said drily. ‘You’d better watch where you hang the mistletoe.’

  Discovering that Robert was going to spend Christmas Day with them irritated Megan. She knew it was selfish of her, but she had been looking forward to the four of them spending the day on their own like they’d done when they’d lived in Beddgelert.

  Memories of those days came flooding back. The cosy living room decorated with sprigs of holly, cotton-wool snow, painted fir cones and the home-made paperchains that she and Lynn spent hours making. She remembered how they always dug up a fir tree on Christmas Eve, standing it in a big bucket complete with its earth ball so that it could be replanted a week or so later.

  They’d always saved the biggest logs for Christmas so that the house had not only been warm but had a special welcoming glow about it. Neighbours would pop in during the morning for a glass of home-made wine and a mince pie, but no one had stayed the whole day!

  Christmas dinner on their own had been the high spot. They began planning for it in November, when they all stirred the pudding and made a wish. Early in December, they ordered the turkey from Ifan’s farm. Collecting it a couple of days before Christmas was all part of the ritual.

&nb
sp; It went into the oven early on Christmas morning and her father would baste it every hour or so. When it came to the table it would be a deep golden colour. Megan could remember so clearly the way her father would make a great show of sharpening the carving knife and they would all hold their breath as he carved the first slice of creamy white flesh, sampling it, and then ceremoniously declaring it the ‘best turkey ever’.

  Robert being with them last Christmas, their first in Liverpool, had spoiled all that. The fuss over carving the turkey had seemed childish; she had felt embarrassed.

  ‘Make the best of it, girl,’ Watkin Williams told her when she complained to him that she preferred them to be on their own. ‘I know how you feel. Family man I am myself, but I can understand the need for others to socialise. Your mam’s been shut away in North Wales for so long she’s like a bird that’s been set free. Only wish we had a better home so that we could make a real splash. Perhaps next year …’ His voice trailed off but there was a gleam in his eye that prompted Megan to probe.

  ‘You mean you’re thinking of moving back to Beddgelert?’

  ‘No, not back to Wales, but to something a bit better than where we are living now. We need a bigger place with three bedrooms so that you and Lynn can have a room each. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Very much, but it’s not all that bad having to share,’ she added loyally.

  ‘Oh, come on, now. I’ve heard the two of you bickering. Always helping herself to your things, now, isn’t she? Well, if you had your own room you could lock the door,’ he laughed.

  ‘If I get my promotion, and a pay rise, I’ll be able to help with the rent,’ promised Megan.

  ‘We’ll see. You’ll have plenty of other expenses to take up any extra money you get.’

  ‘Well, I might have to dress more smartly. I’d also like to have a holiday in Beddgelert as soon as I’ve saved up some money,’ she admitted.

  On Christmas morning, Robert arrived while they were still at breakfast. Megan thought it inconsiderate of him to come so early but her father seemed so pleased to see him that she kept her thoughts to herself.

  Lynn, wearing an emerald-green dress, her short hair gleaming, greeted him with a squeal of delight when he handed her an enormous parcel.

  Her excitement mounted when she tore away the decorative paper and discovered what it was. Impulsively, she flung her arms around Robert, hugging and kissing him. Overcome with embarrassment, he backed off.

  Megan felt that her present of two jazz records was something of a let down, even though Lynn enthused over them and immediately placed one of them on her new gramophone.

  ‘This is from me and your dad,’ said her mother, beaming, handing over another bulky package.

  The brown beaver-lamb fur coat brought renewed gasps of pleasure from Lynn.

  ‘We know it’s what you want, so try it on, luv, I’m dying to see you in it.’

  It fitted Lynn perfectly. Smiling, she pirouetted round the room, her grey eyes shining. ‘This is the best Christmas ever.’ She sighed dramatically. ‘What have you got, Megan?’

  Megan looked taken aback. Apart from a make-up box from Lynn she hadn’t been given any presents at all.

  ‘Your present is outside,’ her father said. He looked over at Robert as he spoke, his eyebrows raised enquiringly. ‘Put your coats on all of you,’ he added as Robert nodded.

  ‘I’ve already got mine on,’ Lynn announced, giggling and turning up the collar of her new fur coat.

  Mystified, they followed Watkin. It was an ice-cold day with a translucent blue-grey sky and a cutting wind. Lynn shivered then slipped her arm through Robert’s and snuggled up against him.

  ‘You should be warm enough inside that.’ He smiled, disengaging his arm and moving away.

  ‘Is it round the corner, Robert?’ Watkin asked.

  ‘Yes. Wait here and I’ll fetch it. No point in us all trailing round there.’

  Sheltering in the doorway, shivering as the biting wind stung their faces, Lynn and Megan exchanged puzzled looks.

  In seconds, Robert was back, driving a black T-Ford motorcar. He pulled up, jumped out, and handed the keys to Watkin.

  ‘There you are, Megan.’ Her father held them out to her. ‘From your mam and me. Happy Christmas.’

  ‘The car … You mean, it’s for me?’ Megan asked, bewildered.

  ‘That’s right. Do you like it?’

  ‘It’s terrific! I don’t know what to say!’ She gasped as she hugged them both. ‘It’s a wonderful present.’ She walked round the car, touching the bodywork then standing back to admire it. The T-Ford was about three years old, but it had obviously been well looked after. The paintwork gleamed, there were no dents or scratches, and the interior was immaculate.

  ‘Go on, then, sit in it, luv,’ urged her mother, giving her a little push.

  Nervously, Megan took her place behind the steering wheel, tentatively touching the various controls.

  ‘It’s absolutely wonderful,’ she breathed. ‘Where am I going to keep it, though? It won’t be safe left out in the roadway all the time.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ her father assured her. ‘I’ve rented a garage in the next street.’

  ‘Are we going for a spin in it before we all freeze to death?’ Lynn asked impatiently, her teeth chattering.

  ‘Not with me driving, we’re not.’ Megan laughed.

  ‘I know that! Dad could drive … or Robert.’

  ‘Be a squeeze getting five of us in,’ her father warned.

  ‘It won’t matter. I want to see what it’s like to ride in, and I bet Megan does, too. Megan and me and our mam can fit into the back seat and you and Robert in front.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose we can do that,’ Watkin agreed. Laughing, they all piled in and with Robert at the wheel drove through the centre of Liverpool, along Tithebarn Street and back to Scotland Road.

  ‘Shall I garage it?’ questioned Robert as they stopped outside the house.

  ‘I suppose you’d better. Go with him, Megan, and then you’ll know where it is being kept.’

  ‘My car really is wonderful,’ she enthused when she returned home. ‘Now I know why you’ve been doing so much overtime, Dad. I only wish I could start learning to drive it right away. I wonder how long it will take me to do so?’

  ‘No time at all once Robert starts giving you lessons.’

  ‘Robert!’ Megan frowned. ‘I thought you would be the one to teach me, Dad?’ she added quickly. ‘You’re on the spot, Robert wouldn’t want to come all the way over from Wallasey …’ Her voice trailed away. She knew she was putting it badly but suddenly her joy was being diluted and she felt threatened.

  ‘It’s not a good thing to be taught by a close relative,’ her father told her gravely. ‘It usually ends up in heated arguments! Robert will come here straight from work, have his meal with us and then take you out for an hour’s driving practice. That way you’ll be proficient in next to no time.’

  ‘Here’s your Christmas present from me,’ Robert said, handing over two parcels.

  ‘Go on, let’s see what you’ve got,’ urged Lynn, excitedly.

  Inside the larger one was a pair of leather driving gloves.

  ‘Try them on,’ encouraged Robert. ‘If they’re the wrong size I can change them for you.’

  ‘Open your other present,’ pleaded Lynn.

  Megan’s colour rose as she removed the wrapping paper from a long slim box and saw that it carried the name of one of the most expensive jewellers in Bold Street.

  ‘Whew!’ Lynn let out a long slow whistle as Megan lifted the lid of the box to reveal a gold St Christopher medallion lying on a bed of cream satin.

  Megan stared down at it, her heart thudding. From the thickness of the gold chain, and the delicate filigree work around the outside of the engraved charm, she knew it must have cost an awful lot of money.

  ‘It’s beautiful, Robert!’ she said in a stunned whisper, ‘but I don’t
feel I can accept such an expensive gift.’

  ‘Well, I can’t wear it,’ he told her abruptly.

  ‘Why don’t you put it on, luv, and let us see what it looks like,’ prompted her mother.

  With trembling fingers Megan tried to fasten it round her neck.

  ‘Here, let me.’

  A nervous flutter rippled through her as Robert’s hands touched hers. She was conscious of his breath warm on her neck as he deftly fastened the catch.

  ‘Look in the mirror, Megan,’ breathed Lynn, her eyes wide with envy.

  ‘It’s supposed to protect you from accidents, isn’t it?’ Kathy asked.

  ‘That’s right!’ agreed Watkin. ‘Very appropriate, I’d say.’

  The colour deepened in Megan’s cheeks. She still felt uncomfortable about accepting such a gift.

  ‘It’s lovely, Robert. Thank you.’ She smiled at him cautiously.

  ‘Happy Christmas, Megan,’ he murmured softly.

  As his lips brushed against hers, she remained motionless; her heart was pounding so loudly that she was sure he must hear it. With an effort, she forced herself to look up at him and the burning intensity in his light-blue eyes startled her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  MEGAN STARED IN awe at the gilded, deckle-edged card, turning it over in a bemused way before passing it across the breakfast table so that Lynn and her mother could look at it.

  It was the first wedding invitation she had ever received and she felt strangely excited. For the past month, ever since Valerie Pearce had announced the date of her wedding, there had been talk of little else at work, but Megan had never expected to be invited.

  ‘So the wedding is to be at St Hilary’s Church. That’s in Wallasey, isn’t it?’ Lynn commented.

  ‘That’s right, and the reception is at the bride’s home in Rolleston Drive,’ added her mother. ‘It sounds rather grand, luv!’

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ Megan agreed. ‘I suppose I’ll have to buy something new to wear.’

  ‘Yeah, go on, treat yourself. You can afford it now you’ve had a rise,’ Lynn told her.

  ‘It should be quite warm by the end of April so I could buy something that I could wear for best all through the summer.’