by June Francis
‘Da – ad!’ Kathleen’s tone rebuked him.
‘Aye, well, girlie. It’s true. But I wish him well. He’s a sore trial to his mam. Here’s to her.’ They all drank.
It was good whiskey, thought Mike, enjoying the warmth spreading inside him. Black market probably. Fell off the back of a ship from the Emerald Isle. The thought made him smile and Little Paddy put another tot in his and Mike’s cup. The Irishman told him how he was labouring on the building now but soon passed on to former glories, telling about his racing experiences and how he had nearly won the Grand National before the war.
Mike sat, only half listening, his thoughts of Flora and a man called Stephen over-ridden by Paddy’s voice, which had gone on now to speak of Ireland. He reminded him of his own grandfather with his tales of giants and monsters in bogs, of banshees and Saint Patrick and the high king of Tara. In later years it had been tales of the English – the old enemy – and the fight for independence.
He lost track of time. The fire was stoked up and Mrs Murphy vanished upstairs with several of the kids. The bottle went round again, and he heard Vivien ask whether she should go and see if her aunt Flo had come back yet. Flo, lovely Flora, who’d gone and got herself another fella while he’d been away and hadn’t told him.
‘She’ll come looking for yer here, girlie,’ said Little Paddy in a slurred voice, getting up and searching for his fiddle. ‘Don’t you be aworrin’ now.’ He’d hardly got into his stride with a dancing tune when the knocker sounded.
Vivien and Kathleen went to answer it and a few moments later Flora entered, pale but composed. ‘Hello, Mr Murphy.’ Her face brightened. ‘Hi, Mike. I wasn’t sure if you’d still be around.’
‘Faithful, that’s me.’ He rose hurriedly, only to sway slightly when he was up. ‘How’s George?’ he said carefully.
For several seconds she stared at him without speaking, then quietly she told him: ‘He’s got a fractured skull and a tiny crack in one of his vertebrae. He’s got to stay flat on his back for several weeks while it knits. And –’ she paused and her throat moved ‘– if he’s sensible, then he should be able to walk again.’
He let out a long breath. ‘That must be a relief to you.’ The words were skilfully articulated. ‘Did he come – round at all?’
‘Yes.’ She grimaced. ‘He was sick in the ambulance and talking gibberish. But before I left, he seemed to know who I was. Although he kept going on about God punishing him and that he was sorry. I don’t know what he was talking about.’
Little Paddy decided to take part in the conversation. ‘As long as he’s all right, girlie.’ He lifted the bottle. ‘Will you be having a drink to calm yer nerves?’
‘Whiskey?’ She smiled slightly. ‘No thanks. It’s not my cup of tea. I think I’d best be getting Viv to bed.’
He nodded. ‘Perhaps it’s just as well. You probably haven’t got the head for it.’
‘I doubt I have.’ She switched her gaze to Mike. ‘Are you staying here?’ Her tone was hesitant.
‘I was coming with you,’ he said slowly. ‘But I wasn’t sure if you’d have the boyfriend with you.’
She stared at him and there was a shadow in her eyes. ‘I take it you mean Steve?’
‘Yeah, that’s his name. I haven’t met him, have I?’ There was a sneering note in his voice which she was not accustomed to.
‘No,’ Flora said wearily. She turned her back on him and thanked Carmel, who had just come into the room, for looking after Vivien.
‘No trouble, Flo,’ she answered, her brown eyes going from Flora to Mike. ‘How’s George?’
Flora told her and then spoke to Vivien. The girl came and took her hand. They both looked at Mike. ‘Are you coming?’ said Flora.
‘Why not?’ he rasped and followed them out.
It was chilly and dark inside Flora’s house and for a moment the three of them huddled together in the doorway of the kitchen. Flora was wondering just how much whiskey Mike had drank and what time he had to get back to the base. ‘You sit down,’ she murmured, deciding not to worry about him, and set about bringing a little light and warmth to the scene.
Vivien was fed and escorted to bed and when Flora came down Mike seemed to be asleep in the chair by the fire. She poked the fire noisily and his eyes opened to focus on her face. ‘Drunkard,’ she said softly.
‘Not that drunk.’ He winced as he eased himself up in the chair and looked about him. ‘Where’s Viv?’
‘Bed.’ She hoped he was drunk enough to forget about Stephen for the moment. She leaned forward and took one of his hands. ‘You need some ointment on these.’
‘They’ll heal.’ His fingers curled about hers. ‘You okay?’
Her throat moved and for a moment she did not speak, then she nodded. ‘You’re filthy,’ she said huskily. ‘You could do with a wash.’
‘I need a bath.’
‘It’d take too long to fill. I’ll bring you a bowl and you can strip off here in front of the fire.’
He studied her face carefully. ‘Strip? I’m not that dirty,’ he drawled. ‘You aren’t planning on having your wicked way with me, are you?’
A corner of her mouth lifted. ‘Perish the thought – I’m only asking for your shirt.’
His fair brows rose. ‘You’ll have to help me. I’m a mite stiff.’ He pulled her down on his knee and she did not resist. It made it easier to undo his shirt buttons.
‘You’ll get yourself as mucky as me,’ he muttered, rubbing his cheek against hers.
‘I don’t mind.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m really grateful for what you did for George.’
He stared at her through narrowed eyes. ‘He’s a mate. And you’re a very forward lady, taking my clothes off.’
‘One shirt,’ she said, pulling it off him. ‘And you’re drunk.’
He quirked a tawny eyebrow. ‘My trousers could do with brushing.’
Flora said nothing, only smiling as she got to her feet and went into the back kitchen. When she came back he was sitting in his underwear. She stopped abruptly in the doorway. ‘Are you crazy? You’ll catch a chill like that.’
He waved an arm. ‘Not if you come and keep me warm,’ he said unevenly.
‘You’re indecent,’ she scolded, half-filling the bowl from the steaming kettle.
‘You didn’t think what we did two years ago indecent.’ His eyes were on her face. ‘We were both naked as Adam and Eve without their fig leaves.’
‘That was two years and I didn’t think I would ever see you again.’ She attempted to stem the wave of desire that was washing over her in a hot tide. ‘Times change,’ she added in a voice that quivered as she straightened up.
‘It’s this Stephen,’ he muttered. ‘Stiff upper lip and all that, I bet.’
‘You’re jealous,’ she mocked, going over to him, and holding out the flannel.
‘Hilda said he’s your fiancé.’ He scowled.
‘Did she now?’ She smiled. His arm reached up and pulled her down on to his knee. ‘He wants to marry me and I could so easily be engaged to him,’ she whispered. ‘But I’m not.’ Their faces were so close that she could have counted his long light brown lashes. ‘I don’t love him.’
He seized the flannel and tossed it aside. Then he kissed her with a hunger that took her breath away so that she had to hammer against his chest. He lifted his head and breathed whiskey fumes all over her face. ‘Take your clothes off,’ he said, so quietly that if she had not been so close she would not have heard him.
‘You’re joking!’ Her voice was flurried.
‘No, I’m not. I love you, Flora. I’d marry you at the drop of a hat.’
She flushed and avoided looking into his eyes. ‘I don’t want to marry anyone at the moment. I want just to float through life without any ties because I’m still hurting from Rosie. And because –’ she moistened her lips ‘– I found out that Tom was a deserter.’
‘You mean he’s still alive?’ Mike’s face paled.
‘No, no.’ She grimaced. ‘He returned to his own lines but they thought him an enemy because he didn’t know the password and he was shot.’
Some of the colour returned to his face. ‘Hell! How did you find it out after all this time?’
‘Stephen. He’s from the old days – he knew Tom and me and Hilda.’ Her voice quivered slightly. ‘I had a bit of rough time of it after you told Tony about Viv. Me and Hilda had a big row and she flung at me that she and Tom had slept together.’
He stared at her and swore softly.
‘They did go around a lot when they were young,’ she stammered. ‘But even then she messed about and two-timed him with Steve’s brother. Even so I could hardly believe that Tom and her –’ she swallowed. ‘But since Stephen told me about Tom, I’ve wondered just how well I knew him.’
‘When did this Steve tell you all this?’ he said softly.
‘After Rosie had died. Oh, Mike, there’s been so much pain! And now there’s George flat on his back. They say he’ll walk again, but will he? Football’s so important to him. And I couldn’t bear it if he was crippled for life.’ Her voice broke on a sob, and she buried her head against his bare shoulder. ‘I feel that I need help to forget everything just for a while, Mike. Don’t ask me to make decisions.’
‘Sure, honey. Anything you want.’ His voice soothed her. He kissed her gently, then hugged her to him and kissed her again and again. She responded passionately, and they eased down on the floor in front of the fire on the rug. The cat, who had been warming its flanks, protested with loud miaowings at being dispossessed of its comfortable spot and attempted to wriggle between them.
Flora pushed it away. ‘Make love to me, Mike,’ she whispered. ‘I want to forget everything, to feel good.’
His grey eyes gazed into hers. ‘Are you certain?’
‘Yes,’ she said unsteadily. ‘If you’ve got a contraceptive.’
‘Hell, Flo.’ He laughed weakly. ‘You sure take a guy unawares.’
‘I don’t want a baby. I have enough problems.’ She blushed as she returned his regard. ‘I’ve heard about how you fellas are issued with them because of V.D. before you’re let loose on the local female population.’
‘Yes, but –’ he ran a hand through his untidy light brown hair. ‘– did you think I came expecting to make love to you?’
‘I don’t know!’ She put her palms to her burning cheeks. ‘Perhaps we’d better forget it.’
‘No. You never fail to surprise me, Flora.’ His eyes twinkled slightly as he picked up the cat and shut it in the back kitchen. ‘I don’t fancy having my butt or my front bitten,’ he murmured.
‘Then you –?’
‘Shhhh! Try to be a bit more romantic. Take your clothes off.’
She stared at him and then stood motionless for a moment. Then abruptly she went over to the lobby door, undoing her cardigan. She listened at the open door for any sound of Vivien waking, then closed the door quietly and walked over to the fire to undress.
He pulled her close again and his hands wandered down her spine, to hug her buttocks and then explore her front. He kissed her in most places. She shivered and began to caress him, before her hands slid upwards and pushed him down with some strength. Her lips roamed the skin of his chest, his nipples, his chin, his mouth. Then he pulled her down on top of him, pressing her length against him, before rolling over and over. Her senses were on fire as their legs entwined and the lower part of their bodies made sensuous contact. For an instant she thought of Rosie and Tom, experienced the keening grief that had pained for so long. Now George was in her mind as she had last seen him – but he was alive, thanks to Mike. Lovely Mike.
He drew away a moment and then he entered her and she gave herself utterly to the physical sensations washing over her, believing that the dispelling of her bitter memories could begin from this moment on. She was not going to allow herself to think about what it would be like when Mike left … as eventually he would.
That did not bear thinking about.
Chapter Sixteen
‘I want to go home, Mam.’ George’s brown eyes pleaded with her. ‘I could lie in bed just as easily there.’ Not if he was given the F.A. Cup to drink from would he tell her how embarrassing it was being confined to bed.
‘No, you couldn’t! This is a special bed,’ she said. ‘It’s got a board underneath to keep your back straight. You know how the one at home sags in the middle.’
George frowned. ‘I like my bed, and we could put our own board underneath.’
Flora looked at Mike who looked at George and said, ‘It would be a lot of work and worry for your mom – and you know she can’t afford to give up her job to look after you.’
George was silent, conflicting emotions flickering across his face.
‘The main thing is that you get to walk again, son,’ said Flora quietly. ‘With a bit of good behaviour on your part you should be home for Christmas.’
‘Christmas!’ His face clouded with dismay. ‘I’ll die of boredom if I’m to stay here that long. There’s nothing to do.’ He made to fling back the covers but Flora’s hand prevented him. ‘Mam, let me out!’
‘You’re being stupid. Use your common sense.’ She squeezed his hand.
He subsided, staring at the cage that kept the blankets off his legs. I’m being punished,’ he muttered. ‘It serves me right.’
‘If you’re talking about taking daft risks, then that’s probably true,’ said Flora, exasperated. ‘We all pay for our mistakes.’
George shook his head vehemently. ‘For letting Rosie die! I should have looked after her better.’
She and Mike stared at him. ‘It’s over. In the past,’ she said in a firm voice. ‘You must forget about it.’
‘But if I’d only thought –’
‘We can’t be thinking for other people all the time,’ put in Mike, leaning towards him. ‘Forgive yourself, kid. And if you believe that you’re paying for your mistake – perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. Learn from it, and I doubt you’ll go climbing into bombed houses again.’
‘Too true,’ muttered George. ‘I won’t go climbing anything. But what am I going to do with myself here?’
‘I can get you some comics,’ said Mike cheerfully.
Flora gave him a look. ‘I don’t want him wasting all his time reading comics.’
Mike shrugged. ‘Come on, Flo. The lad needs some relaxation. Maybe a few good books, as well, and some drawing stuff.’ He addressed George. ‘Your mam was showing me the mask you did of Guy Fawkes. It’s good. If you practised your drawing, there could be a career of some kind in it, George.’
‘I want to be a footballer,’ he said, moving his head restlessly on the pillow. ‘To play for Liverpool. We were top of the League last season.’
‘Perhaps you still will, one day,’ said Flora, smiling. ‘But it won’t do you any harm to spend your time here, drawing and reading. It’ll stand you in good stead when you go back to school.’
George pulled a face but said he’d be glad of the comics and a couple of good adventure stories. As well as the football Echo. Then he tried lifting his head to glance about the cream-painted orthopaedic ward with its large windows overlooking a stretch of lawn surrounded by shrubs. ‘That boy over there, with the ginger hair, will never walk again, Mam,’ he whispered. ‘But you want to see him throw himself from bed to bed. And there’s another kid who’s had polio and one of his legs is a weird shape.’ His brows drew together. ‘I’m lucky really. But I feel so far from home here on the other side of the Mersey.’
‘I could wish you nearer but there was no room for you in one hospital and the other was in quarantine because of an outbreak of chicken pox, and you never did catch that. Besides the cleaner air here is better for you.’ She smiled encouragingly, relieved that this had not happened a year ago before the National Health Service had come into being. ‘You’re not that far from Wales. If you could get up and walk outside, the River Dee
’s really close.’
‘I wish I could sit up. It’s going to be dead awkward reading and drawing flat on me back.’ He added quickly, ‘I’m not really complaining.’
‘No,’ said Mike and Flora in unison with a smile.
Shortly after, visiting time came to an end and they left to get the train.
‘It’s going to be tough on him,’ said Flora with a sigh as she watched the tired-looking countryside go by through the carriage window. They had the compartment to themselves on that slate grey, cold November day.
‘He’ll cope,’ said Mike, squeezing her hand.
‘I will too,’ she said quietly. ‘But I wish you didn’t have to go back to the base so soon.’
‘So do I,’ he responded in heartfelt tones. ‘We’ve got bare concrete floors and not enough stoves to heat the huts. The wind comes whipping in the rain as thick as mist across the Mersey over those flat lands near Warrington. I could do with you in my bed to keep me warm.’
‘I’m sorry about last night,’ she blurted out. He had slept in George’s room. She had felt a hypocrite asking him to do so, but had not wanted Vivien to wake up and find them in bed together.
He shrugged. ‘I’m not complaining, Flora. I understand.’
She knew that he did because it had been him who had suggested his leaving by the back way and waiting for her at the tram stop. It reminded her altogether too much of Lena Bryce’s antics, and knowing her neighbours she did not doubt that if she kept on sinning with Mike then it would not be long before the whole neighbourhood knew about it. The idea bothered her but she knew that right now she desperately needed him in her life. ‘It’s not that I’m really worried about my reputation,’ she said quickly.
‘No.’ He smiled.
‘You think I am,’ she said indignantly.
His smile deepened. ‘I think you want to have your cake and eat it, honey. You’d be better marrying me.’
‘That’s a no go area at the moment and I’ve told you so.’ She rested her chin on her hand. ‘I never thought I’d have double standards. I’m a pharisee! I might as well have a whole shipload of lovers! And be hung for a sheep as a lamb,’ she said woefully.