by Lyn Andrews
‘Can I see her, Em?’ Phoebe-Ann asked, a sob in her voice.
Emily nodded. At least Phoebe-Ann would be spared the sight she’d seen. Mrs Heggarty had fixed Lily up and had arranged her hair so the cuts and bruises didn’t show too much. At least Phoebe-Ann would see her mam the way she remembered her. ‘She’s in the parlour, but I don’t think I can . . .’
‘I’ll go on my own, Em. I want to tell her I’m sorry.’
Emily was still sitting on the floor when Jack came down, his face haggard with grief and pity.
‘How is he?’
‘Taking it hard. Blaming himself.’
‘It wasn’t his fault. Every day there is someone hurt or killed by runaways.’
‘I told him that and Jimmy did too and the doctor and that young copper, but it’s no use. He keeps saying he shouldn’t have let her go on her own: he should have gone with her, then it could never have happened. That’s all he says over and over again. Or he did until whatever it was the doctor gave him quietened him down. But he won’t sleep. He’s fighting it. Will you go and try, Em? You and he always got on well together.’
She got to her feet. Yes they did ‘get on’ as Jack put it, but it was more than that. He’d become a real father to her. She’d been so young when her da had died and then for all those years there had only been Mam and he’d helped her so much after her experience – more than he’d ever know.
‘I’ll go up to him.’
Jimmy got up and left the room when she went in. Albert looked at her with stricken eyes as she sat on the bed and took his hand.
‘It wasn’t your fault. Please, please don’t blame yourself? You can’t. We . . . I . . . we all need you and love you so much.’
It broke her heart to see his lips trembling. ‘We’ll all manage. She . . . she wouldn’t have wanted us to . . .’ She couldn’t speak, the sobs choked her and she sat holding his hand tightly while the teardrops fell on the coverlet.
She had been certain he was dropping off to sleep, that he was at last letting go, that he’d stopped fighting the drug he’d been given. It was the best thing for him. Tomorrow, things would be better, she thought. But they’d never be that again, not without Lily, not without her mam. She fought hard to control the sobs in case she disturbed him. If he could just get some sleep. She wondered tiredly would any of them ever sleep again.
She jerked upright, eyes wide open as the shouts and screams reverberated through the house. The noise woke Albert and he tried to get out of bed.
‘No. Lie down. I’ll go and see what’s the matter. Lie down. I’ll come back, I promise.’
As she flung open the kitchen door she saw Phoebe-Ann with tears streaming down her face and livid red marks on her cheek and Jack grimly holding Jimmy back.
‘What’s she doing here? That little bitch killed Mam as sure as if she’d been driving the cart!’ Jimmy yelled, beside himself with rage and grief.
‘What?’ Emily cried.
‘Who let her in?’ Jack asked grimly.
‘I did, she went in to see . . . Mam.’
‘She killed her! She killed her an’ I’ll lay her out with me bare hands!’ Jimmy yelled.
Emily was horrified, thinking Jimmy had lost his reason.
‘Get her out of here, Em. I can’t hold him for much longer. Just get her out!’
Emily caught her sister and pushed her into the scullery and slammed the door. ‘You’d better go, Phoebe-Ann. I don’t know what’s the matter with him, except that he’s so upset he can’t know what he’s saying.’
‘Phoebe-Ann held her cheek.’ ‘He hit me! He hit me!’
‘He didn’t mean to. He’s upset. Go on, get home.’
‘I don’t want to. I don’t want to go back to that empty house. I don’t want to stay there on my own.’
‘Get Alice to stay with you. I can’t leave them, not now. I might be able to get round later. Go on. Get home and I’ll come later on.’ How she was going to manage it Emily didn’t know but she managed to push Phoebe-Ann out.
Jack had Jimmy pinned down in a chair, but his face was still contorted with rage.
‘She’s gone. You’ve gone and upset Albert. He was nearly asleep. Why did you have to go and start on her? And you hit her!’
‘If I’d have known she was here, I’d have thrown her out myself,’ Jack answered.
‘She’s just as upset as we are.’
‘She’s got every right to be!’ Jimmy yelled, trying to get up.
‘Christ Almighty! Will you pack it in, Jimmy! You belting our Phoebe-Ann isn’t going to bring Mam back,’ Jack bawled at his brother.
‘Stop it! Stop it, both of you and now isn’t the time to be swearing, you know she hated it. What’s the matter with you both?’
Jack had given up the struggle but some of Jimmy’s anger had gone. ‘Mam had been to Mona Street, to see that old bitch, Ma Malone. To see if they couldn’t put a stop to our Phoebe-Ann and him getting married.’
‘If she hadn’t gone up there this wouldn’t have happened. And if Phoebe-Ann hadn’t been so bloody thick as to want to marry the likes of him, Mam wouldn’t have needed to have gone at all. It’s all her fault. She killed Mam,’ Jimmy blurted out.
Emily felt sick. No wonder Jimmy had hit Phoebe-Ann. But on the heels of this realization came the knowledge that if she’d told Mam that Phoebe-Ann was married, Lily wouldn’t have gone to Mona Street. Guilt was added to her burden of sorrow and shock. She felt herself sway and she grabbed at the back of the chair.
‘Sit down, Em. God knows we’ve all been through enough today.’
She sat down. ‘You can’t blame her entirely, Jack.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because . . . because Phoebe-Ann is married and I stood for her. If I’d have told Mam, she wouldn’t have gone there, so I’m as much to blame.’
Jack groaned. ‘Is there no end to it at all? She’s caused so much trouble . . . I wish she’d have gone and chucked herself in the bloody river and then we would never have had to cope with all this.’
Jimmy glared at Emily. ‘Why didn’t you tell her? Why didn’t you bloody well say something?’
‘Because I promised Phoebe-Ann I wouldn’t. Oh, Jim, don’t start on me because I do feel like chucking myself in the river right now! How am I going to live with all this? How am I going to tell Albert? It will kill him.’
‘Don’t tell him, not yet. He can’t take any more. Don’t even mention our Phoebe-Ann to him. As far as I’m concerned I hope I never set eyes on her again. I hope she’s happy with what she’s done and I hope he gives her a dog’s life. She deserves it.’
Emily looked ahead to the long years of bitterness that the future seemed to hold. She couldn’t go and see her sister; Jimmy would kill her rather than let her go. Never had she wished that Edwin was home more than she did then.
Phoebe-Ann had waited all night for Emily to come and, at last, when she heard the chimes of the church clock at midnight, she knew she wasn’t coming. She wanted to die. She wanted to crawl into bed and die. She hadn’t known Mam had gone to see Ma Malone until Jimmy had roared at her. In fact now she was wondering about the whole sorry mess she’d made of things. But then she thought of Jake and longed for him to be home. She didn’t want to be on her own, but she was and there was nothing she could do about it, for she dared not go back to Lonsdale Street. She had to stay and face things she didn’t want to face at all.
Alice forced her to go to work the following day and she’d gone and worked mechanically, never acknowledging the nods and words of condolence from the other girls and women. That night she’d made Alice promise to stay with her for she couldn’t face another night alone.
Mrs Wainwright had agreed. ‘Left on ’er own she’ll go off ’er ’ead an’ do somethin’ to herself, shouldn’t wonder. God, but I wouldn’t like to live with what she’s got on her conscience.’
Most of the neighbourhood knew the full story by this time and also the fact that the
funeral had been set for two days later, after the inquest which would be just a formality. Fatalities from runaways were common enough. Accidental death would be the verdict.
Alice, prompted by her mother, had offered to go to the funeral with Phoebe-Ann but she’d said no. She hoped she stood more chance of being reconciled with her brothers and Emily if she went alone. Mrs Wainwright had lent her a black jacket and hat, both old-fashioned and too big, and she had her good black skirt. She looked ill and dowdy as she made her way to the church in which she’d been married so short a time ago.
She was surprised by the number of neighbours who had turned out and there were one or two carters, associates of Albert’s, who had also come. Their black bowler hats and best Sunday overcoats looking odd amongst the mainly black shawls of the women and the jackets with black armbands of their male neighbours, many of whom had taken time off from their work and would therefore be short in their pay packets.
She sobbed all through the service and she couldn’t bring herself even to look at the coffin or Albert or the rest of her family. Then, when it was over, she filed out with the rest and got the tram to Toxteth Park Cemetery.
It was a cold, damp day and a heavy mist hung over the cemetery and seeped into the thin jacket, making her shiver. She longed to stand with Emily who was clinging to Albert, sobbing quietly, while Jack and Jimmy stood rigidly at Albert’s side. Fresh spasms shook her as she heard the dreadful, final sound as the first handfuls of soil fell on the coffin. The sound shrieked at her that her mam was dead and it was all her fault.
When she looked up, she saw the people drifting away and only Emily stood by the open grave, the grave diggers leaning on their shovels, a respectful distance away. She moved forward.
‘Emily.’
Emily looked up.
‘Em, I’m sorry . . . It’s my fault . . .’
Emily couldn’t speak.
Phoebe-Ann drew closer, praying that Emily wouldn’t turn away from her. ‘Em, say something . . . please?’ she begged.
Through burning eyes, their lids swollen from crying, Emily looked at her sister. She should hate her but how could she? She was as much to blame. She held out her hands and Phoebe-Ann seized them like a lifeline.
‘Oh, Emily! What am I going to do? How can I live with all I’ve done?’
‘How can we both live with it, Fee? I should have told her.’
‘Oh, I wish the Maury was back.’
‘So do I. Oh, so do I,’ Emily answered tiredly.
Emily managed to slip around to see her sister a few times, without the knowledge of her brothers. She went at night when it was dark so she wouldn’t be noticed by the neighbours. She’d given in her notice to Miss Millicent and Miss Nesta who were both reluctant to accept it.
‘If you ever change your mind, Emily, come back to us,’ Miss Nesta had said, pressing an envelope into her hand. It contained five, crisp, white five-pound notes. ‘For your future, Emily,’ she’d whispered.
‘And if there is anything at all we can help you with, don’t hesitate to come to us,’ Miss Millicent had offered, handing her a parcel which she later found to contain a white damask tablecloth and napkins. She’d written a ‘thank you’ note to them both with tears in her eyes at such generosity.
She was to keep house now in her mother’s place and she knew that she was the only one who could help Albert through his grief. Both her brothers had gone back to work; they couldn’t afford not to now for, until Albert had recovered enough to resume his business, there was only their money coming into the house as they’d both refused to allow Emily to use the money Miss Nesta had given her.
‘I want no arguments, Em. It’s yours. She gave it to you for when you have a home of your own and there’s an end to it,’ Jack had stated.
She had given up hope then that she would ever have a home of her own and at that time she didn’t want one. This was her home, it always would be. Edwin would agree and if he didn’t . . .
She went down on the tram with Phoebe-Ann when the Mauretania docked. Together, they stood waiting at the Canada Dock gate, both in the black of mourning for they had both dyed all their clothes.
Edwin was first off and when she told him, he took Emily in his arms and held her tightly. ‘My poor Em. My poor, poor Em, having all that to bear on your own. I’m sorry love, she was a wonderful woman.’
She knew if she broke down now she would never stop crying so she held it all back.
He stood with his arm around her shoulders until he saw Rhys pushing his way ahead of the crowd of stokers and trimmers.
When Edwin told him, Rhys’s shocked gaze went to Phoebe-Ann. She looked so haggard and thin. Before he had time to speak, Edwin had taken his arm and was pulling him aside.
When she saw Jake, Phoebe-Ann uttered a cry and, elbowing her way into the crowd, ran straight into his arms.
He looked down at her with undisguised horror. ‘What’s up? What’s been going on here?’ He looked across at the other small group: at Rhys whose face was like thunder, Edwin who couldn’t disguise the enmity he felt and Emily, red-eyed and accusing and also dressed in mourning.
‘Ask your wife!’ Rhys spat at him, before Edwin pulled him backwards. He wanted no confrontations here. Emily was upset enough already.
‘What’s up, girl? You look like you need a drink.’
Phoebe-Ann couldn’t speak so she let him guide her across the road and into the smoke-filled bar of the nearest pub.
‘Get that down you,’ Jake instructed, annoyed that his homecoming had been so miserable.
Phoebe-Ann downed the drink and gasped and coughed.
‘Come on, tell me what’s been going on?’
In a flat, expressionless tone she told him.
‘Ah, God! The poor feller!’
‘But don’t you see, it was my fault! She’d been to see your ma.’
‘What’s that owld biddy got to do with all this?’
‘Mam went to see her to try to get her to stop the wedding.’
‘But we were already wed, me ma knew that. Our Vinny can’t keep his trap shut after he’s had a few drinks. She’s not speakin’ to me, so the rest of them tell me. Not that I care.’
‘My mam didn’t know.’
‘I thought your Emily would have told her.’
She shook her head.
‘I wish I could trust me brothers like that. Rent-a-gob, that’s our Vinny. Oh, what a bloody mess. Still, she was all right with you, your Emily, I mean?’
‘She is but the others . . .’
‘Oh, sod the others! I’m home now so cheer up. We’re wed; all legal, like, so no-one can do anything about that. You’re my wife,’ he added with pride. Her loss hadn’t really touched him deeply and he couldn’t see how Phoebe-Ann was to blame for a bloody horse bolting. It could have been anyone’s horse. It could have happened in Lonsdale Street, so what was all this fuss over?
She wondered how he could be so offhand about it. Didn’t he realize that, apart from Emily, her whole family had cut her off? She leaned back in the chair, suddenly so very tired and utterly wretched.
‘You look worn out. We’ll get off home and we can both have a bit of a lie down, like.’
A spark of anger flared. She had just told him her mam was dead and her family had ostracized her and all he wanted to do was take her to bed. ‘No, we won’t! Is that all you can think of Jake Malone? Is that all, at a time like this?’
He stared at her. ‘What did I say wrong?’
She got to her feet. ‘If you don’t know, then I’m not going to tell you!’
‘Oh, that’s nice, isn’t it! That’s a nice welcome ’ome! Why don’t yer just say “sod off”!’
‘Stop that!’
‘You’re me wife and I won’t be able to get home as much in future!’
‘What do you mean?’
He hadn’t meant to tell her like this, but the way she had rejected him had annoyed him. He’d seen the smirks and nudges an
d heads nodded in their direction. If she was going to carry on like this he might as well go and make his peace with his ma, have a few bevvies with them all. ‘This is the last time the Maury will sail from Liverpool. It’s Southampton from now on, an’ if you’re going to have such a cob on then . . .’
She didn’t wait for him to finish. She’d been staring at him in horror; now she turned and, pushing her way through the crowd, ran out into the street, leaving him standing looking after her with a mixture of annoyance and bewilderment on his face.
Chapter Eighteen
IT WAS HARD TO BELIEVE that Mam had been dead for almost a year, Emily thought. Now it seemed as though she’d always run this house, always coped with Albert, who was growing more and more withdrawn and morose, still unable to come to terms with the fact that he had been instrumental in Lily’s death.
Jack and Jimmy talked about nothing else but emigrating to America and she knew that when they had saved up enough money they would go. But saving was the hardest part although she fully intended to insist that they take the twenty-five pounds Miss Nesta had given her. After all there was still the money Richard Mercer had invested for her.
Edwin still came home as often as he could, but the travelling to and from Southampton meant he wasn’t home for very long. They’d spoken about the future but it didn’t look too hopeful. Work was getting harder to find in the city and, for Edwin and others, there was little choice but to stay at sea. It was work, even if it did mean they had little time with their loved ones.
Emily had told him that when Jack and Jimmy finally left she couldn’t leave Albert on his own. He’d agreed with her but had silently wondered if he could persuade them both to move down south. He’d see more of her that way but his hopes weren’t high. She went every Sunday to take flowers to Lily’s grave and Albert joined her. His grief had healed a little but he’d never be the same man, they both knew that.