The Leaving of Liverpool

by Lyn Andrews

  Emily looked up and for the first time realized what was going on around her. ‘Do as she says . . . for me?’

  The pain in his eyes was real. He wanted to hold her, calm her, reassure her but it was not what she wanted. He gave a curt nod and turned away. The two men left together. Once outside the room Edwin’s anger flared again and he caught Richard Mercer’s arm. ‘It’s not going to end here! I swear it’s not!’

  The older man looked down at the hand on his arm. ‘We’ll talk about it later. When her parents have been to see her and the guests have gone. I would appreciate it if you would try to keep this matter between ourselves, until Emily’s parents have been.’

  ‘I’ll do it for her sake and her mam’s but not for you!’ He knew his words were insolent but he didn’t care. He wanted justice for Emily.

  Try though she may, Lily could get nothing out of young Kitty.

  ‘I don’t know what’s up, missus, that’s the God’s own truth. But it’s bad, I can tell you that. I haven’t seen Emily or Phoebe-Ann for over an hour. Edwin’s in a foul temper and so is Mrs Webster, an’ Cook if it comes to that.’

  Lily exchanged a worried glance with Albert.

  ‘Get your hat and coat on, Lil. The quicker we get there the quicker we find out what’s gone on and the sooner your mind will be eased.’

  ‘Shall I go down the pub for the other two?’ Kitty asked, hoping to sound helpful and having heard Lily mention the whereabouts of Jack and Jimmy on her arrival.

  ‘No, you won’t and don’t be so hardfaced! Get yourself back: they’ll be wondering where you’ve got to,’ Lily snapped.

  ‘I was only tryin’ to be ’elpful, like.’

  ‘Off you go, girl,’ Albert directed quietly.

  They walked quickly up Lonsdale Street and around the corner, Lily clinging to Albert’s arm, thankful for his support. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach and she wondered what could be so wrong that they should both have been summoned on tonight of all nights.

  ‘Just what have those two been up to? If our Phoebe-Ann’s been throwing tantrums she’ll feel the back of my hand and this time you won’t stop me.’

  ‘Lily, stop fretting and getting yourself into a state. Maybe there’s been some sort of accident. A minor one,’ he added hastily, seeing the consternation in her eyes. He could have kicked himself for saying it but he had only been trying to allay her fears. They walked the rest of the way in silence but occasionally he patted her arm, as though impressing on her the fact that he was there, giving her support. Like Lily he was certain it had something to do with Phoebe-Ann. Emily could always be relied upon to behave herself.

  Nothing could have prepared them for the shock they both felt when Richard Mercer ushered them into his study and told them quietly and with sorrow in his voice what had happened. For the first time in his life Albert Davies felt a white-hot rage surge through him. Emily! Poor modest, hard-working, self-effacing little Emily! Before he could speak Richard Mercer was ushering them towards the door and he realized Lily was clinging to his arm and that she was shaking. Looking down he saw the tears coursing down her cheeks. ‘Oh, Lily, love! What’s to do? What’s to be said, love?’

  She shook her head. There was nothing either he or anyone else could do or say that would restore to her poor girl that which had been brutally torn from her. Her virginity, her innocence, her trust. In her heart of hearts she wished that her poor Emily was dead. Better dead than . . . this.

  Before she went into the room, she made an effort to control herself, to steel herself for what was in store for her, the thing that all mothers dread. Albert handed her his handkerchief and she wiped her face and straightened her shoulders.

  ‘Will I come in with you, love?’

  ‘No. Not yet. It’s her mam she wants, no hurt intended.’

  He squeezed her hand. ‘None taken.’ As he turned to open the door he was full of admiration for her. ‘I’ll wait here. In case she needs me,’ he said flatly to Richard Mercer who nodded and walked down the landing.

  As soon as she saw her mother Emily stretched out her arms. Instantly Lily held her tightly. ‘Oh, Em! My poor little Emily! It’s all right now, your mam’s here and I’m taking you home. Do you feel up to it, love?’ Her words were a hoarse whisper as she fought to control her own sobs.

  Emily nodded and Lily gently brushed away the strands of brown hair that hung about her daughter’s bruised face. ‘You’ll never have to come back here. I promise you. Either of you! Albert can go and fetch our Phoebe-Ann. She’s coming home right now.’

  Beneath the heart-scalding pity she felt for Emily a slow anger had started to burn. Anger that would gain strength until it would consume her, cloud her vision and her judgement.

  Chapter Eight

  IT WAS NEARLY THREE O’CLOCK in the morning when Edwin, unable to control himself any longer, knocked loudly on the door of Richard Mercer’s study. He had inwardly seethed with anger for the rest of the evening and while the guests had departed. It had been left to Mrs Webster to tell Olivia that her brother had attacked Emily. Mr Mercer and the housekeeper had decided not to tell her the full extent of the attack. When Dr Coleman had heavily sedated James Mercer and seen to Emily, she had been driven home with Lily, Albert and Phoebe-Ann in a taxi cab.

  Edwin had left Mrs Webster to clear up, aided grudgingly by Kitty and Cook. An air of dreadful foreboding hung over the house and there would be little sleep for anyone, he mused grimly. Kitty was the exception. She had been deliberately kept in the dark about the whole affair. ‘Give that one the hint of the truth and she’ll have it around the whole of Toxteth Park by morning!’ had been Cook’s prediction. She had also commented acidly that Kitty’s ma had a mouth like a parish oven.

  When he heard the summons, Edwin went in. The fact that his master looked old and haggard went unheeded. ‘I’ve got to say it! What’s going to happen to him?’

  ‘I know what you think should happen and my first reaction was something along the same lines. I never wish to experience another night like this.’

  ‘No doubt Emily would agree with you,’ he shot back.

  ‘I’m aware of that,’ came the curt reply. ‘I have to face the fact that my son . . . is not himself and probably never will be.’

  ‘He’s mad. Why don’t you say it? Only a madman could have done . . . that!’

  Richard Mercer ignored the outburst, but the word made him shudder. He had refused to even let himself think it. When Dr Coleman had told him that the best place for James was a mental hospital he had felt physically sick. ‘He will be institutionalized.’

  ‘Locked up.’

  The older man nodded. ‘I . . . I would be very grateful if you could see your way clear to keeping all this to yourself. I have my reputation, my business . . . I am a Justice of the Peace, as you know.’ He pushed a sealed envelope across the desk.

  Edwin’s eyes narrowed and he drew in his breath sharply. ‘You’re bribing me to keep my mouth shut! I’d sooner starve than betray Emily like that! Keep your money and keep your job! I won’t work in this house for another day!’

  Richard Mercer leaned back in his chair wearily and passed a hand over his eyes. It was what he had expected but he had had to try. ‘I understand you, Leeson, and, had you accepted, part of me would have despised you. I’m not insensitive to your outrage and your anger, but think of Emily. Think about how she and her family would feel if this got to court. Oh, the newspapers would have a field-day and even though they can’t print her name, it wouldn’t be long before someone found it out.’

  Edwin twisted his hands in frustration. He was right. ‘Work is hard to find these days.’

  ‘I’ll manage.’

  ‘I don’t blame you, but think about it. Your aunt is getting on in years and she relies on you.’

  ‘I won’t stay in this house!’

  ‘I’m not asking you to.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘I’ll give you employment within
the Company. You’re honest, diligent, efficient and loyal. Will you sail as a steward or a waiter on the Mauretania?’

  Edwin was taken aback. It was something he hadn’t expected.

  ‘Think about it. Think hard. There is nothing either you or I can do to punish my son and little we can do for Emily either, except provide for her. It’s work. Not highly paid work but I believe the tips can be good. You could provide for your aunt and you would not be under this roof, nor in contact with either me or Miss Olivia, who is as devastated as I am.’

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ he said grudgingly, thinking that it had obviously been thought out carefully.

  ‘Good.’ The word was uttered with a sigh of relief. ‘And there will be no gossip?’

  Edwin looked down at him and realized that he despised this man. A young girl had been brutally attacked in his house and by his insane son and all he cared about was his reputation. His name and position. ‘There will be no gossip as you call it, but not on account of you or Miss Olivia but because I won’t heap all that on Emily’s head. She’s suffered enough.’

  ‘Will you stay until I can find a replacement?’

  ‘Only until the Mauretania docks,’ he replied, not caring how condescending was his tone, how mocking was his attitude. As far as he was concerned Richard Mercer was in his debt; it was not the other way around.

  Emily had fallen into a deep sleep, aided by the medicine Dr Coleman had given her. Phoebe-Ann had slept in her mother’s bed while Albert had tossed restlessly on the sofa. Lily had sat beside her daughter through the long hours of the night, her mind tortured by the fearful, dark images of James Mercer and her poor Emily. Images that wouldn’t be banished no matter how hard she tried, and all the while her tears flowed freely.

  Jack and Jimmy had been told and it had been left to Albert to talk them out of storming round to Upper Huskisson Street and beating James Mercer to a pulp.

  ‘What good will that do? Apart from making you feel better? If I thought it would help Emily, I’d come with you and help you, but it won’t. Neither will it help your mam for you’d be locked up by the scuffers and thrown into Walton Jail . . .’

  ‘It would be worth it just to make that bastard pay!’ Jimmy growled.

  ‘It wouldn’t. He’s not in his right mind. What kind of satisfaction is there in beating a man who has lost his reason? Who can’t understand what he has done? Let it be for your mam’s sake. Aye, and Emily’s.’

  So they had remained at home nursing their anger and frustration.

  At first, when she woke from her drugged sleep, Emily looked around the familiar room with surprise. She didn’t remember coming home and why was Mam sitting in a chair beside the bed, her head on her chest, fast asleep? She tried to sit up and she groaned. She felt as though she’d been beaten all over. Then she remembered.

  The scream woke Lily with a jerk. ‘Emily! Emily, stop it, love! It’s all right, your mam’s here. You’re at home. Safe and sound.’

  ‘Oh, Mam! Mam! Why me?’ Then she remembered that he’d thought she was Phoebe-Ann.

  ‘I don’t know, Emily. I don’t know. Who can tell what was going on in his twisted mind? Don’t think about it any more. Promise me?’

  ‘I can’t help it,’ she sobbed.

  Never had Lily felt so helpless. She fought down her frustration. ‘I’ll make you a cup of tea and a bite to eat. You lie down now and rest.’

  Emily lay back against the pillows. How was she ever going to feel normal again? Do all those things that other people do without even giving a moment’s thought to: eating, laughing, singing. She would never laugh again. And work. How could she ever work again, and what would people think? She felt guilty and ashamed. She must have done something, said something. He wouldn’t have just gone and attacked her like that. She forced the bile down, feeling the bitter taste in her mouth. People would point at her on the street. She would be called terrible names. Just the thought of it brought the blood rushing to her cheeks. And then there was Edwin. He’d been there. He’d found her like that. How was she ever to look him in the face again? She turned her head to the wall and closed her eyes. She wanted to die for what was the point in living? Her life had been ruined.

  Lily bent over the range feeling like an old woman. Her shoulders and her back were aching, but the burden of grief she carried was the worst ache of all.

  Albert had obviously gone out for his walk and there was no sign of either Jack or Jimmy and she wondered if they had accompanied him. She went through into the scullery and splashed cold water on her face. It helped to banish the numbness that had seeped into her body. When she returned to the kitchen the kettle had boiled and she spooned the tea into the pot from the red and black lacquered caddy, then she sat down, waiting for it to draw.

  What was she going to do now? How could she coax Emily back to some semblance of normality after what she’d been through? She remembered something Emily had said last night. What was it? Something to do with Phoebe-Ann. That was it. He had mistaken her for Phoebe-Ann. Phoebe-Ann had been his intended victim. Her mind cleared. What the hell had Phoebe-Ann been doing to encourage him to think she would have welcomed his attentions? She’d heard her youngest daughter talking about him, boasting that she was the only one he would talk to. He ignored everyone else, including his own father. And she had said how sad it was that he followed her with his eyes. The little slut! The little tart! She must have encouraged him. It was the only explanation. In a flash she had crossed the room and had stormed upstairs. She flung back the bedroom door and the china jug and bowl on the washstand rattled.

  Phoebe-Ann sat up, her short blond hair tousled, her eyes still red and puffy from crying. The short hair only served to inflame Lily’s anger. With two strides she had crossed the room and, throwing back the bedclothes with one hand, she caught her daughter by the hair with the other and yanked her from the bed.

  Phoebe-Ann screamed in pain and terror. ‘Mam! Mam, you’re hurting me!’

  ‘Not nearly as much as I’m going to, you little slut!’

  ‘Mam! Mam, stop it! Please stop it!’ Phoebe-Ann screamed.

  ‘It’s all your fault. You’ve been acting the whore with him, haven’t you? Haven’t you?’ The sound of her hand as it struck Phoebe-Ann’s cheeks, first the right, then the left, echoed around the room and the terrified girl shrieked.

  ‘No! No, I haven’t! I only used to talk to him. Oh, God, Mam, that’s all it was! A few kind words!’

  ‘Don’t you take the Lord’s name in vain and lie to me in the same breath, Phoebe-Ann Parkinson! Your pa must be turning in his grave and your brothers too, to see what kind of a harlot you’ve turned into! You thought you were on to a good thing, didn’t you? Didn’t you? You thought he was a gentleman. Did you think he would up and marry you? It was that, wasn’t it? You thought you’d be like his bloody sister!’

  ‘I didn’t! I didn’t! Oh, please, Mam, leave me be!’

  Lily’s anger and outrage had found an outlet, her reasoning impaired by rage. ‘So you played the whore and where has it got you? Nowhere! Nowhere and, what’s worse, your sister has had to pay for your stupid, sinful dreams! Your poor, innocent sister has been raped and ruined for life because of you!’

  Phoebe-Ann had managed to tear herself away.

  Lily’s bosom heaved and her eyes glittered dangerously. ‘Don’t you think this is the end of it because it’s not. I should have taken your pa’s belt to you long ago, but by God I’ll do it now! You’ll regret the day you ever tried to copy Miss Olivia Mercer.’

  ‘Mam. Don’t!’

  The cry was weak, yet it penetrated the red mist that was dancing before Lily’s eyes. She turned to see Emily clinging to the doorpost and behind her stood Albert.

  ‘Lily, what’s all this about?’ he demanded in a tone she’d never heard him use before. Nor had she seen him look so grim as he took in the scene: Phoebe-Ann cowering against the far wall, her arms folded over her head as though to protect
it, shaking and sobbing; Lily, her usually neat hair hanging in untidy strands either side of her face, trembling too.

  ‘It’s all her fault, the little slut! She’s no daughter of mine!’ Lily pointed to Phoebe-Ann with a stabbing forefinger. ‘She’s been leading him on; playing up to him, the poor mad sod. How was he to know what she was up to? She wanted to be a lady like his sister and she thought he’d make her one, so she led him on. It’s her fault and I’ll never forgive her. Never. I don’t want her in this house. I don’t want her near me.’

  Fresh sobs racked Phoebe-Ann.

  ‘Is what your mam says true, Phoebe-Ann?’ Albert asked quietly.

  ‘No! I swear by everything that’s holy I didn’t lead him on. I didn’t want him to marry me. I didn’t want to be like Miss Olivia. I only talked to him. I didn’t even say anything or do anything I shouldn’t have! I swear it!’

  ‘Liar!’ Lily screamed.

  Albert caught her by the shoulders and shook her hard. ‘Stop it, Lily! Do you hear me? Stop it. Look what it’s doing to Emily, you screaming and swearing and blaming Phoebe-Ann! Stop it!’

  All the anger drained from Lily as she saw the tears running down Emily’s face. She burst into hysterical tears and clung to Albert. ‘My poor girls. My poor girls. What did I do to deserve all this, Albert? God knows I’ve had my share of grief and trouble – why this?’

  He patted her. ‘I don’t know, love. I just don’t know. It doesn’t seem right or fair but never mind all that. Everyone is upset.’

  Jack and Jimmy had appeared on the landing and were surveying the scene with disbelief.

  Albert took charge of the situation. ‘Jack, lad, take your mam downstairs and give her a drop of brandy, she needs it. Aye, and one for Phoebe-Ann too. Oh, what the hell! Get us all one. We need it.’