The Leaving of Liverpool

by Lyn Andrews

  She laughed. It was a harsh, abrasive sound that made him cringe. ‘Even his own mother refused to do what I have to do for him and, after I saw them all off, none of his brothers will come near again. There is no-one, Rhys. It’s as simple as that.’

  He reached out and took her hands. ‘Oh, Phoebe-Ann, what have they done to you? They’ve turned you into a bitter, worn-out woman. Where’s the pretty, spirited laughing girl I knew?’

  His words tore at her heart. ‘She’s dead, Rhys! She died the night he beat me up and you and Jimmy, Jack and Edwin went round to sort him out.’ She withdrew her hands. ‘It doesn’t matter now.’

  ‘It matters to me, Phoebe-Ann!’

  ‘It shouldn’t do, for there’s nothing you can do. Nothing I can do either. Haven’t you heard the saying, “Marry in haste, repent at leisure”?’

  He felt so helpless. ‘There must be some charity, some institution that could help.’

  ‘There is. The Parish or the workhouse.’

  ‘No, I didn’t mean anything like that. He was a sailor, can’t the Sailor’s Society help?’

  ‘Only if he had died at sea. I enquired. I have tried, Rhys. I’ve asked everyone I can think of and some Miss Millicent told me about, too. I don’t qualify. But I get out for a few hours on a Sunday and our Emily’s good. I think if I didn’t have her I’d have thrown myself in the river long before now.’

  Again he reached for her hands, shocked. ‘Promise me you’ll never even think about that, Phoebe-Ann?’

  ‘I can’t promise you that, Rhys. You don’t have to put up with it all and it would be so easy. A few short steps from the landing stage and the undertow is so strong that I’d be . . . gone in a few seconds.’

  He caught her by her shoulders and pulled her to him. ‘Stop it! Stop it, Phoebe-Ann!’

  She began to cry softly, then as the sobs shook her he held her closer and stroked her hair.

  Until she’d spoken the words she hadn’t thought about it, but it would be easy. A few steps over the chain-link rail, a few seconds and she’d never have to go back to that house again. She’d never see him, hear him or smell him again. And she was so sick of the smell of him. The stench hit her every time she walked through the door and it symbolized just what her life had become: a stinking, rotting mess.

  ‘Phoebe-Ann I’m not going back until you swear you will stop thinking like that. Even if it means I have to stay here for ever, I will.’

  Her sobs quietened. She couldn’t keep him here, it would only make her misery harder to bear, like having a jewel dangled under her nose – something so wonderful but something she could never have. She pulled away from him and wiped her tears away.

  ‘I wouldn’t do it. I was just thinking aloud.’

  ‘Promise me?’

  ‘I promise. Even a miserable life is better than no life at all and, besides, I’d be afraid I’d burn in hell if I did that.’

  He was relieved. For a few brief moments he had been quite determined never to return home.

  ‘I’d best be getting back. I said I wouldn’t be long.’

  ‘What did you tell him?’

  ‘That I was coming over here, that’s all.’

  He wanted to give her all the money in his wallet but he felt that that would only humiliate her. Instead he mentally noted to leave it with Emily and he’d keep on sending her money for as long as she would need it. At least if some of the financial worries were lifted things might be better for her. And, he couldn’t bear to see her dressed in cast-offs. He gently traced the outline of her cheek with his fingers. ‘Oh, Phoebe-Ann . . . If only . . .’

  ‘I know! I know!’ she interrupted sharply, turning away from him and reaching for her coat. She wanted to scream and rage that life was so unfair, that she now loved him but it was too late. Too late. The words echoed in her head, mocking her.

  ‘You’re not going back until you’ve had something to eat.’

  Phoebe-Ann turned at Emily’s words and wondered how long her sister had been standing in the doorway, but Emily was bustling about, setting the table.

  ‘I can’t, Em.’

  ‘Yes you can. Half an hour more won’t hurt him. How long is it since you ate?’

  Phoebe-Ann shrugged. ‘Lunch time, I suppose.’

  ‘You see, if I don’t keep my eye on her . . .’ Emily addressed herself to Rhys, trying to lighten the atmosphere. It was so charged with emotion that you could cut it, she thought.

  ‘I’ll walk you back. It’s too late to be out alone,’ Rhys offered.

  It was on the tip of Phoebe-Ann’s tongue to say, ‘Who would be bothered with a hag like me?’ but she stopped herself. She didn’t want him to think she was looking for pity. She had to try to hang on to some dignity.

  She made him leave her on the corner. She didn’t want him to see the squalor she now lived in.

  ‘Phoebe-Ann, you know that you only have to call and I’ll come running. Whatever is the matter. You won’t forget that, will you?’

  ‘No, Rhys, how could I?’

  He pulled the collar of her worn coat up around her ears. It was a tender gesture. ‘Take care of yourself.’

  She was so close to breaking down that she couldn’t trust herself to speak, so she nodded and turned away and began to walk quickly up the street. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. It would have been just too much to bear.

  He watched her go and wondered if he would ever see her again. He shivered as a blast of the icy wind rushed around the corner. At least she’d promised him never to harm herself, and with that he would have to be content, but it was cold comfort. His heart felt like a lump of solid ice as he retraced his steps to Lonsdale Street.

  He had been gone a week, Phoebe-Ann thought as she closed the door of the house in Princes Avenue behind her and prepared to make her way home. In a few days’ time it would be Christmas but she had nothing to look forward to. She wouldn’t join the crowds in Church Street or Bold Street or London Road, doing their shopping, buying gifts for their loved ones.

  She had neither the money nor the inclination. Nor would she join the throng on Christmas Eve when the Christmas tree would be erected in Church Street and the Salvation Army would play carols. There would be no goose, no plum pudding or bunloaf as there had been when her mam had been alive. Now there was no Mam, no Jack or Jimmy. Just Jake. She’d probably go to see Emily in the afternoon but Emily was so happy that it almost made her cry to see her. Albert had promised Rhys that after the holiday he would go back, and early in the New Year Emily was finally going to get married.

  Then there would be no Albert and no Emily. Edwin was already talking about looking for a place in Southampton. She dreaded even to think about what her life would be like without Emily living so near at hand. She’d be alone. Totally alone. No, she wasn’t looking forward to Christmas.

  She walked up Liffy Street with her head bent against the wind that held a promise of sleet or snow. When she reached the junction of Dove Street and Liffy Street she almost collided with someone and, looking up, she saw a swaying Vinny Malone.

  ‘Where have you been?’ she snapped.

  ‘What’s it got to do with you?’ He peered at her through bloodshot eyes and the smell of the liquor on his breath made her wrinkle her nose.

  ‘I thought I told you never to set foot in my house again!’

  ‘Miserable old cow,’ he muttered as he staggered off.

  Pig! That’s what he was, that’s what they all were.

  As she walked into the living room she smelled the liquor. So, he had been here. She took off her coat and turned to Jake. ‘I see that drunken sot of a brother of yours has been here while my back was turned.’

  ‘It’s supposed to be bloody Christmas an’ I’ll get nothin’ from you!’

  She stared at him hard. His eyes were glazed and a trickle of saliva ran down his chin. She felt sick. He was drunk. If he had been able to get on his feet he would be staggering, like Vinny Malone. ‘You’re dru
nk!’ she screamed at him. A tide of anger, frustration and hatred surged through her.

  ‘What if I am?’

  So, Vinny Malone thought he could come round here and make her life even harder, did he? This was the end. She’d taken all she could take. She began to snatch up all the bits of clothing and the old towels and rags.

  ‘What are yer doin’ now?’

  ‘Just what your ma did! I’ve had enough of you, Jake Malone. She can have you back and if she won’t let you in then you can stay in the street until you freeze to death. I don’t care! I’ve had enough!’

  She reached out for the handle of the wheelchair but he lashed out, catching her across the side of her face. She screamed and struck back at him. He tried to fend off the blows with his arms but Phoebe-Ann’s fury had given her strength. He roared with pain as her fingers twisted around his hair and with what strength he had in his upper body he grappled with her, dragging himself half out of the chair. She released the grip on his hair and pushed him away and he fell out of the chair and backwards against the range.

  She backed away from him, her breath coming in short gasps. It would take all the strength she had left to get him back in the chair but she’d do it. She’d meant what she said: Ma Malone could look after him from now on. She began to pull and heave at him. ‘Damn you, Jake Malone!’ she grunted. Then she realized that his eyes were closed and that he was heavier than usual. She let his weight go and he fell back, his arms limp, his wasted legs tucked under him. He’d passed out! Now what was she going to do? She felt like bursting into tears. She would just have to try again. She bent over him and then gave a cry of horror. He wasn’t breathing! He was dead and she’d killed him! Panic took hold of her. She backed away from him and, wrenching open the door, ran out into the night without either coat or hat.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  EMILY AND EDWIN HAD been sitting making paper chains to decorate the Christmas tree that Edwin proposed to buy on Christmas Eve, after they’d done the last minute shopping in St John’s Market. There was a good fire and Albert was dozing as they talked about the future.

  ‘Do you think you’ll like it, Em? It will be a strange town.’

  ‘I suppose I’ll get used to it and I’ll have you home for two extra days. No more spending all those hours on the train. I wrote to Jack and Jimmy today. I suppose by the time they get it we’ll be married or very nearly.’

  ‘The mail doesn’t take that long. The Maury carries the mail and she only takes five days, less most times, and the Berengaria and Aquitania are just as fast. They’ll have time to write back.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought about it being so quick.’ She laughed. ‘I know what our Jack will say: “About time too”.’

  ‘They’re doing very well out there. They work damned hard and soon they’ll have a nice little business. A proper builder’s yard too. I never thought I’d see the day when Jack and Jimmy Parkinson would be gaffers. Last time I was around there they’d just taken on their first bricklayer.’

  ‘They would have to. Neither of them know the first thing about it. I’d hate to see a house they built.’

  Edwin laughed. ‘The house that Jack built! It just shows what can be done with a bit of cash to start with. Jimmy says he’s glad now they waited and saved. A bit of cash, a bit of gumption and a bit of enterprise. They’d never have thought of going into business here.’

  ‘I thought it was just selling building materials.’

  ‘It was, to start with, but when they got talking to the old man whose yard it was and when he confessed he couldn’t lay one brick on top of another, or knew what to do with pipes or electric cables, it made them think. Soon be rolling in dollars the pair of them, I’ll bet.’

  ‘Then it was a good move.’

  ‘It’s the land of opportunity for some. Sometimes, I wonder . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Oh, nothing really.’

  ‘Out with it!’ She jabbed him playfully in the ribs.

  ‘It had crossed my mind to give it a try, emigrate.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Is that all you can say?’

  ‘What would you do? I can’t see that there would be much call for your skills in the building trade.’

  He laughed. ‘No, it was just a passing thought.’

  ‘I know you too well, Edwin Leeson. It was more than that.’

  ‘Well, I’ve seen what it’s like over there, what there is to offer.’

  She sighed. ‘How could I ever go and leave our Phoebe-Ann? God knows she’s got little enough in life, but for me to go three thousand miles away!’

  ‘You see, it was a passing thought. We couldn’t do that to her. Southampton will be far enough.’

  ‘I asked her to come for her Christmas dinner but she won’t. She said she’ll come over for an hour in the afternoon.’

  ‘Fine Christmas she’ll have with him.’

  They both fell silent, each engrossed in their own thoughts, until the loud hammering on the front door made Emily jump up. ‘Who on earth can that be?’

  Phoebe-Ann fell into her arms as she opened the door.

  ‘You’re half frozen. Where’s your coat? What’s happened?’

  Phoebe-Ann was shaking and her teeth were chattering with cold and fear. ‘I . . . he . . .’

  ‘Calm down! Calm down and tell me what’s wrong?’ Emily had taken the rug from Albert’s chair and had wrapped it around her sister’s shoulders.

  Phoebe-Ann tried again. ‘He . . . he’s dead.’

  Emily’s eyes widened with disbelief. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes! Yes! I killed him! I killed him!’ Phoebe-Ann lapsed into hysterical sobbing.

  ‘I’d better go and see.’ Emily turned towards the door but Edwin stopped her.

  ‘Wait! Wait a minute, Em, until we get to the bottom of this. Phoebe-Ann, what happened? Tell us slowly. Em, get her a drop of brandy. She’s frozen and she’s obviously had a terrible shock.’

  Haltingly, between sips of brandy, Phoebe-Ann told them and when she’d finished Emily looked at Edwin pleadingly, not knowing what to do.

  ‘We’ve got to think quickly. You’re sure he’s dead, Phoebe-Ann?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice was hoarse.

  ‘It could have been an accident.’

  ‘No! No! I hated him so much . . .’

  Emily looked down at her sister. Phoebe-Ann was so upset she didn’t know what she was saying. It must have been an accident, but she still couldn’t let Phoebe-Ann go through the experience of having to face a trial and a jury. ‘How long had you been in?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Think! Think, Phoebe-Ann! It’s important.’

  ‘A few minutes, that’s all. He . . . I saw Vinny Malone on the corner of Dove Street.’

  ‘And he’d given Jake the drink?’

  Phoebe-Ann nodded.

  ‘Phoebe-Ann, you’ve got to be brave now.’ A plan was forming in her mind. ‘You’ve got to pull yourself together and go and see Ma Malone.’

  ‘No! No!’ Phoebe-Ann cried, while Edwin looked at Emily as though she’d lost her mind.

  ‘What for, Em?’

  ‘She’s got to go and tell them that he’s . . . he’s dead and that it is Vinny’s fault. He got him drunk and left him alone. He fell out of the chair and hit his head and you found him like that. You’ve got to do it, Phoebe-Ann! No-one else can!’

  Phoebe-Ann looked at her blankly. She didn’t understand what Emily was saying. Didn’t she understand that it was she who’d killed him? Why was she saying it was Vinny Malone?

  ‘Don’t you see, Edwin, it probably was an accident but if she has to go to court, before a jury . . .’

  Suddenly, Phoebe-Ann saw that Emily was trying to protect her. She gave a cry and started to sob.

  ‘Stop it! Stop it, Phoebe-Ann! You’ve got to do this and you’ve got to do it now, before anyone else finds him!’ Emily gripped her sister’s shoulders and pulled her to her feet. ‘
As soon as you’ve been and told them, come straight back here and we’ll all go to the police station.’

  ‘Phoebe-Ann, if we could go with you we would, but it’s got to look as though you’ve run straight out without even putting on your coat,’ Edwin urged.

  Phoebe-Ann was feeling a bit calmer. Everything was taking on the semblance of a dream. ‘I’ll go.’

  Emily clung to Edwin as she watched Phoebe-Ann leave the house and break into a run. ‘Oh, I hope it works! She couldn’t stand going to court, not on top of everything else. She would condemn herself out of hand by saying how much she hated him. It would just break her.’

  ‘Let’s hope she doesn’t have to go to court. That was quick thinking, Emily.’

  She sagged wearily against him. ‘ “Needs must when the devil drives” Mam always used to say.’

  Phoebe-Ann had to stop to get her breath when she reached the corner of Mona Street. She had to do this, Emily said so. She had no choice. It was either lie or . . . The alternative was too terrible to think about. She stumbled on and beat on the door with both her fists. A front door opened a little way down the street and as she continued her hammering a few more were opened. Eventually Ma Malone opened the door.

  ‘What do yez want ’ere? Clear off!’

  ‘He’s dead! Jake is dead and your Vinny killed him!’ she screamed. Oh, it was so easy to scream she thought.

  The door was flung open. ‘Yer lyin’! Yer lyin’!’

  ‘I’m not! Just you come and see. I’d just got in, I passed Vinny on the street, drunk, and he’d got Jake drunk and he’d fallen out of his chair and banged his head on the range! He’s dead! He’s dead and you killed him, Vinny Malone!’ She was almost hysterical with fear and shock. ‘I’m going for the police!’ And before either Ma Malone or Vinny or Seamus, who had crowded into the lobby, could say anything she turned and ran.

  The minute she turned the corner, Emily shrugged on her coat and Edwin did the same.

  ‘Get that rug, she must be frozen stiff by now.’