Flowers on the Mersey

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Flowers on the Mersey Page 9

by June Francis


  ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Although with Papa aboard, I’m a bit nervous.’

  ‘I don’t plan on taking any risks with you.’ His arms slid about her waist beneath the coat. ‘It’s just that it’s warmer this way.’

  It was, and she snuggled her head against his shoulder, breathing in the mingled faint odours of oil, soap and damp wool. ‘When do you have to go on duty?’

  ‘An hour or so.’

  ‘It’s not long.’

  ‘No.’ His mouth moved over hers with a sensuality that was enjoyable. As their kisses grew more torrid, she forgot everything but the physical sensations she was feeling. His hands shifted until they rested just beneath her breasts, which seemed to be swelling, and her breath caught in her throat as his fingers explored them. Then came the sound of footsteps, a man’s cough, the smell of pipe smoke. She stiffened and Daniel’s hand pressing against her breast seemed to be attempting to stifle the heavy beating of her heart. Neither of them moved or spoke until the footsteps retreated.

  Daniel took her hand and began to walk with her. She was glad of the chance to let herself calm down. Her blood still seemed to be pounding in her head but as they slowly walked, the sea breeze cooled her hot cheeks and gradually she felt more in control. She sought for something to say that would take her mind off her father and what he might say when she got back to the cabin. ‘What made you become an engineer?’

  ‘It wasn’t anything I planned.’ He squeezed her fingers. ‘Life was awful at home, despite Mam trying her best. My brothers were always fighting so I ran away to sea when I was thirteen. I wanted to see the world.’

  ‘And have you?’

  He smiled. ‘You don’t see much of it from an engine room. And one port’s pretty much like another when a ship’s only turning round.’

  ‘You sound disillusioned.’

  ‘It’s not as bad as I make it sound,’ he drawled. ‘A ship’s something special.’

  ‘Do you have a woman in every port?’ She had heard that about sailors.

  ‘What a question!’ He brushed her cheek with his fingers.

  She caught his hand and suddenly remembered Shaun. ‘Is it a taboo like the IRB? The business with your brother—’

  His brows furrowed. ‘Forget what Shaun said. Forget them. I never go to any of the meetings. It’s Irish people having a complete say in their own country that’s important to me.’

  ‘Why don’t you get out then?’

  His mouth twisted. ‘You’ve lived through the last few years in Dublin and you ask me that? When it’s all over and Ireland’s free, there won’t be any need for killing or secrecy.’ He hugged her to him. Talk of something else.’

  ‘Tell me more about yourself. Did you go to school?’

  Daniel stared past her at the sea. ‘Sure. But my brothers were there before me and a priest decided he was going to beat the wickedness out of me before it got a firm hold.’

  A shudder ran through her. ‘Don’t talk about it if you don’t want to.’

  He shrugged. ‘The parents of another boy complained. He was replaced. My mam, though, would never go against the priests, whatever us boys said.’

  ‘It’s a wonder you learnt anything,’ she whispered.

  Daniel smiled, ‘I liked learning once I was allowed to do just that. The priest that replaced Brother Jerry was well-read and had been about the world a bit. Spent time in Africa and South America. He liked nothing better than to talk about travelling and ships. It sounded like a different world.’

  ‘That’s what made you run away to sea?’

  He nodded, remembering the horrors of that first ocean voyage. The seasickness and the yearning for home. The hard work and the men who had wanted sex with him. At first that had terrified him more than any beating, but he soon learnt from a couple of seamen that he did not have to use his fists and feet. ‘Sod off, mate, I’m not that way made,’ caused them to back off.

  Rebekah nudged his arm, sensing his withdrawal from her. ‘Was it what you expected?’

  ‘Is anything,’ he said drily. ‘And why are we wasting time talking about the past?’

  ‘Because I want to know more about you, of course. Have you had many girlfriends?’ she blurted out.

  ‘I’ve had other things on my mind each time I’ve docked in Liverpool and New York, so there’s no need for you to be jealous.’ He sounded amused.

  ‘I’m not jealous. It’s … I don’t like to think that I might just be one in a line. You could have had more than one in each port?’ she said jocularly.

  ‘I could have half a dozen, but I haven’t!’ He pulled her into his arms but she warded him off.

  ‘What do you have on your mind?’

  He sighed. ‘I’ve never known anyone like you for asking questions – except perhaps our Shaun.’

  She did not enjoy being linked with him, and thought of what her father had said. It made her uneasy, ‘I’m not likely to tell anyone.’

  ‘I’m not giving you the chance.’ His face was set. ‘I’ll not be having you knowing anything about that side of my life. It’s safer for you and safer for me, as I’ve told you before. Just take my word that I’m not involved in anything violent.’

  ‘You said New York. Eamon de Valera, the President of Sinn Fein, is in America.’

  He frowned. ‘Don’t pry, Becky.’

  She was silent, but all the fear and anger of the last year or so bubbled up inside her. ‘I don’t know why, when he was legally elected, he couldn’t have taken his seat in Westminster.’

  His arms dropped. ‘You must know!’

  She shrugged. ‘Because he wants an all Irish parliament – Dáil Éireann.’

  ‘There you are then. Having Irish M.P.s in London hasn’t done us much good, so we have to take the other way, however much I hate it.’

  ‘But why be involved?’ she said urgently. ‘You don’t have to be! There’s no need for you to set foot in Ireland ever again. What’s to take you back? You have no mother and your other brothers are dead.’

  He stared at her. ‘You know what takes me back. Have you no feeling for the place at all? I seem to remember your saying that you believed in a Free Ireland.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘But you’re not prepared to help bring it about.’

  There was silence before she said, ‘I pray. Isn’t that what women have always done when men went off to war? Violence is what drove my parents out of Ireland, and I’m past caring if I ever see the place again.’

  He looked as if she had smacked him in the face but she could not stop. ‘It’ll be a half empty country Dáil Éireann will be ruling over, the way things are going.’

  ‘But you believe we’ll win?’ His voice was strained.

  ‘I believe that the British will hand over some kind of self-government because they’re fed up to the back teeth with the Irish problem. Shall we not talk about it any more?’

  ‘That’s all I ever asked,’ he said intensely. ‘Not to talk about it.’ He stared at her a moment, and thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘I’m going to have to go. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.’ And without touching her, he walked away.

  Rebekah wanted to call him back but she had a feeling it would be of no use right now. A shiver went through her. If he was not careful he could end up getting himself killed.

  As quietly as possible Rebekah entered the cabin. Her mother looked up from her knitting and her father from a sheaf of papers. ‘Where’ve you been?’ he demanded.

  ‘Walking,’ she said shortly.

  ‘I didn’t see you and I’ve been over most of the ship.’

  ‘You can’t cover the whole ship at one time.’

  ‘Don’t be impudent, Rebekah!’ He flung the papers aside. ‘I’ve warned you – if I catch you up to anything, you’ll regret it. If this happens again you won’t get off so lightly.’

  ‘Don’t you think you’re over-reacting, Adam?’ murmured her mother. ‘It’s Becky’s first night at sea, and if I
was her age I might find it exciting and not want to go to sleep yet.’ She smiled at Rebekah over her glasses. ‘But there are men about, love, and lots of them have probably been drinking. We worry about you. Now get into bed and think about what we’ve said.’

  Rebekah nodded, and before her father could say any more she dived under the bedcovers to change. She wriggled into her cambric nightgown as the light went out. Years ago she had longed for a sister to talk to, and cuddle up with, when night terrors held her frozen between chilly linen sheets. She had made do with a dog when staying on her grandma’s farm. She sometimes dreamt of the summers spent in Wicklow. That had been Ireland at its best. If only it could always be like that. But it was not, and Daniel’s wanting to go back scared the life out of her.

  ‘Now I’m feeling better, you can accompany me round the promenade deck,’ said Rebekah’s mother, tucking her hand into her arm. ‘Your father’s having a word with one of the officers but we must get exercise and fresh air while the weather’s not too bad.’

  ‘What’s this job he mentioned?’ Rebekah began to work out the odds of seeing Daniel on their tour of the decks, or the possibility of him attending the entertainment in the General Saloon that evening.

  ‘Mr Green has asked him to replace the shipping agent, whom he considers too old for the job. It’s quite an important position, with the emigration and tourist trade getting into its stride. It’ll keep him very busy. What we’re supposed to do while he’s busy I’ve no idea!’ There was an unaccustomed hint of sarcasm in her voice.

  ‘You still don’t want to go to America?’

  Her mother shrugged. ‘I know it’s not my fault, but I feel mean leaving our Esther the way we did. She’s not getting any younger.’

  ‘Papa would say—’

  ‘I know what your father would say. “She hasn’t bothered with us for years and she’s got Hannah.” Hannah’s a worker, all right, but she’s not family.’

  ‘I think she’s after Aunt Esther’s money,’ murmured Rebekah.

  Her mother halted and stared at her. ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘She was glad to get rid of us and annoyed that Aunt Esther bought us presents.’

  ‘The presents were nice,’ said her mother. ‘You must write to your aunt – keep in touch. We never saw much money from your father’s side of the family so I’d like you to get some of your aunt’s. You have a right to it.’

  ‘What happened that Papa never got any money?’

  ‘His older brother drank and gambled all the money away. That’s how your father’s Mr Green got his hands on the farm. I’ve told him if we do ever get rich and influential from this job he’s got, I’d like a ship named after me. In my younger days—’ She did not finish because a sudden gust of wind took her old-fashioned, wide-brimmed hat from her head and sent it careering along the deck, bringing the conversation to an end.

  It was evening and Rebekah had not seen Daniel all day. She frowned as she fastened a white belt about her hips and smoothed the tan dress of cotton and silk down over her thighs. She was supposedly going to the Entertainment. Her father had left her and her mother, saying he was going to the smoking saloon to see a man from Manhattan. Presumably he believed her mother would not let her out of her sight, but Sarah had tired of her fidgetting and told her to go out but not be late.

  Rebekah took a brown handbag by its chain and twisted it round her wrist. Her mother looked up from a book. ‘I suppose I’ve got to accept that fashions change. When I was young—’

  ‘When you were young – I know, Mama – your skirts were down to your ankles.’ Her eyes softened, ‘I won’t be late.’

  She looked in on the Entertainment – a girl singing, ‘I’m forever blowing bubbles’ – but there was no Daniel. She found him on the boat deck, leaning on the white-painted rail, gazing out over the dark sea. She took a deep breath to steady herself as he turned and looked at her. ‘Daniel, I’m sorry about last night. What you do is your business.’

  ‘Thanks.’ He was still smarting from her words. ‘Do you really mean that about not caring if you never saw Ireland again? Don’t you have any feelings for your birthplace?’

  ‘Of course I do. But my future’s in America now.’ She hesitated. ‘Yours could be, too. I don’t like thinking that you might be killed.’

  He turned slowly. ‘No one can be completely immune from suffering and death. It’s all around us.’

  ‘That’s not quite the same.’

  Daniel put his arm around her. ‘Don’t look so sad, Becky. Let’s forget about Ireland and America and live life while we’ve got it.’ He turned her towards him.

  ‘That’s easily said,’ she murmured. ‘But you want to live in Ireland. You’re like that Oisín in the legend.’

  ‘But you’re no princess.’ He kissed her neck. ‘You’re real, thank God.’ They kissed once, twice, and before long were back to where they had been the evening before, except this time no footsteps disturbed them. In an atmosphere of dark skies and slapping waves their passion for each other seemed at one with the elements.

  She gasped as his tongue ran over her nipples and her fingers laced through his curly hair and held his head against her breast. With her other hand she pulled out his shirt and stroked his bare back. She wanted to be part of him just as she had been on the beach, and pressed against him.

  A soft sigh escaped him. ‘Becky, love, do you know what you’re doing to me?’

  ‘Tell me,’ she whispered. ‘Tell me that you love me, that you want me.’

  He lifted his head and gazed into her face. ‘I love you, I want you.’ His voice was husky. They kissed and she could feel the heavy thud of his heart against her bare breast as his hands took hold of hers and guided them to his trouser buttons. He nuzzled her neck and with an accelerated pulse and shaking fingers, she forced the first three buttons through holes, brushing the swelling beneath with the tips of her fingers several times. Abruptly he pressed her hand so that she could not move. ‘Keep still. Let me calm down,’ he said against her ear.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  A chuckle sounded in his throat. ‘It’s too nice.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘What you’re doing.’ He took her hands away and held her at arm’s length. ‘I don’t know what we’re going to do. I want you, but we could end up in trouble.’

  ‘Can’t we get married?’ She struggled to get close to him again but he continued to hold her off.

  ‘It’s not that easy and you know it,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll have to do some thinking. It’s getting late. I’ll have to go.’

  ‘Already?’ She could not hide her disappointment.

  He kissed her and she clung to him. He released her with obvious reluctance. ‘It’s time you were getting back or we’ll have your father breathing brimstone and fire.’

  ‘Shall I see you tomorrow?’

  He nodded. ‘I’m on in the early hours but I’ll hope to see you here towards the end of the morning.’

  They parted at the head of the companionway that led to her parents’ cabin. Rebekah began to think up excuses.

  She was not far from the cabin when she collided with a staggering Shaun, who stared at her from bleary eyes. Thinking that in his drunken state he had not recognised her, she would have passed without speaking but he dragged on her arm and stuttered, ‘Why don’t you leave my brother alone?’

  ‘I don’t think it has anything to do with you.’ Rebekah’s voice was curt. She made to pull away but he stumbled into her and she fell against the wall. Suddenly his hands and mouth seemed to be everywhere and she was slapping at him. ‘I’ll scream,’ she hissed, ‘if you don’t stop it!’

  ‘And wake everybody?’ he sneered, and rammed her against the wall.

  She screamed.

  A couple of doors opened and Shaun removed his hands as if she was a burning chestnut.

  ‘Rebekah!’ It was her father’s voice.

  She turned on Shaun quickly. ‘Go!
Or you’ll get what for!’

  Her father had seen them and was hurrying along the corridor.

  ‘I’ll bloody get you,’ said Shaun, before making a stumbling retreat.

  Her father would have pushed by her if Rebekah had not seized his arm. ‘Papa! A complete stranger, and he wouldn’t let me past.’

  He wrenched his sleeve out of her grasp. ‘A stranger?’ he said sardonically. ‘I thought I recognised him as one of those damned O’Neill boys.’

  She felt a chill of apprehension, realising her mistake in screaming. ‘How could it be?’ she said, her voice quivering. ‘You’ve got O’Neills on the brain, Papa!’

  ‘Don’t be impudent!’ His eyebrows hooded suspicious eyes. ‘I’ll check the lists – and if it is him, I’ll have something done. It’s a good job it’s not nine o’clock yet or you’d be in worse trouble. Now get into the cabin.’ He gave her a push that sent her stumbling along the passageway.

  That night she dreamt of Trim Castle in Ireland where her father had taken her as a girl. It was large and forbidding and frightening. She was looking through an opening at the sea far below, knowing that Daniel had gone somewhere far away while she was locked in a tower. It was all her father’s fault and she had to get out before he came back. Suddenly the window wall vanished and she was airborne, flapping her arms as she sped over the sea, but there was someone behind her. That someone took on the shape of a banshee and her fear grew into an overwhelming panic. It would catch her and she would never see Daniel again!

  CHAPTER SIX

  Scared by her dream, Rebekah could hardly wait to meet Daniel the next day and she was halfway up the companionway to the boat deck far too early when she heard footsteps behind her.

  Daniel took her hand. ‘I nearly bumped into your father. He came into the smoking saloon so I made a quick exit.’

  ‘Shaun wasn’t there?’ Her voice was strained.

  ‘He told me what happened,’ said Daniel, his expression suddenly vexed.

 

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