Flowers on the Mersey

by June Francis

  She dropped the blankets onto the bed and went downstairs feeling her way cautiously in the dark. Daniel was still asleep. She placed the back of her hand against his forehead. It was hot but not burning. For a moment she hesitated, considering whether to wake him and help him upstairs where he would probably be more comfortable. Then she decided against it and went to bed.

  Rebekah woke early to the chatter and song of birds in the trees, and her name being called. She yawned, stretched, forced her eyelids open and crawled from beneath the blankets.

  Daniel was sitting at the table with his shoulders hunched beneath the overcoat. He faced the window but turned at the sound of her footsteps. There was blood on his shirt and smeared down the side of his eye and on his cheekbone. He looked glad to see her. ‘I wasn’t sure where you were.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have got up.’ She tried to keep the worry out of her voice as she touched his face and shirt and was glad that the blood was dry. ‘I’ll have to get some water.’

  ‘You want the fire lighting.’

  ‘Yes. But you can’t do it.’

  ‘Can you?’

  A smile twisted her mouth. ‘I’ll get the water.’

  She tried the tap but all that came out was a thin brown trickle. ‘The tank must be blocked with leaves. I’ll have to go to the river.’ She reached for the bucket and went outside.

  The air was chilly because the sun was having a struggle to break through the mist that still clung to branches of trees and bushes and wove thin ribbons in the tall grass. She went through the gate, wishing she had paused to put on her jacket, and crossed the lane. She found the footpath that led to the river bank, a five-minute walk away, thinking about Daniel.

  When she returned he had lit the fire and there was fresh blood on the shirt. ‘You’re an idjit.’

  He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

  ‘We’ll have to get that shirt off, and the bandage.’

  He nodded and started to undo buttons. She looked away and into the blackened cooking pot, which was clean. She poured the water into it and went for more.

  He was still sitting where she had left him when she returned but the lines about his mouth had deepened. He was in pain and she wished she could bear it for him. She must still love him. She poured half the water into the pot and then went over to him.

  They went through almost the same rigmarole as they had yesterday with them both gritting their teeth as she eased lint and bandage away from his skin. Again she talked to try and make it easier. Commonplace things. ‘I think it’ll be a nice day when the mist lifts completely.’

  He nodded, his eyes shut.

  ‘You’ll be able to lie outside in the sun.’

  ‘What about you? Are you going to rest?’

  ‘I want to find some sphagnum moss.’

  He opened his eyes.

  ‘It’s supposed to have antiseptic properties, and it’s absorbent,’ she explained, starting to clean his face. ‘The Red Cross used it in the war.’

  ‘I didn’t know you were in the Red Cross.’

  ‘I was a junior recruit. Children helped to gather the moss.’

  ‘You’re going to be poking around bogs then? You could get stuck.’

  She smiled. ‘That reminds me of a conversation we had once.’

  ‘On Seaforth beach.’

  ‘Yes.’

  There was a brief silence before he said, ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘You won’t!’

  ‘I will.’

  She opened her mouth to argue but changed her mind because of the expression on his face, and instead went and made tea.

  They had bread and jam and a scalding sweet brew with tinned milk but she planned to make a good nourishing stew for dinner. After she had gathered some moss.

  The mist had cleared, and the air was soft and warm. Bees and flies buzzed amid the sweet-smelling flowers and grass that reached Daniel’s shoulders and were level with the top of Rebekah’s head. Today seemed to belong to a bygone age. A time of innocence before mankind started making its mark on the earth. If it had not been for worrying about his wound she might have relaxed completely, but she was made anxious by the fear of losing him again.

  ‘Why do you think the house still has furniture in it?’ she said, swishing the grass with the arm that carried a bag for the moss.

  ‘The occupier left in a hurry and nobody cares about the house or the land.’

  She almost said, Joshua certainly doesn’t, but had no desire to bring him into the conversation. ‘You think he was threatened?’

  ‘Could have been, in these times. Does it matter? Whoever it was has gone, leaving it for us.’

  ‘You don’t think he’ll come back?’

  ‘We’ll worry about that if it happens.’

  ‘There were no clothes in the wardrobe upstairs.’

  He looked at her. ‘But there was a bed?’

  ‘Yes. You’d better sleep in it tonight.’

  A corner of his mouth twitched slightly but he did not say yes or no. She had trouble keeping her colour down and wondered why she should flush like a virgin at the thought of the two of them in bed together. Although she had not suggested that.

  They came to the river where it was shallow and wide. The sun slanted down through trees, dappling the water so that it was a deep mysterious green in places and translucent in others. They could see mud, flowing weed and shiny pebbles beneath.

  Daniel stopped and drank from his cupped hand where the river rushed white and foaming around rocks. Rebekah slipped off her shoes and trod carefully in boggy ground where the river had once overflowed its banks and washed over the odd large stone. She found what she was looking for and soaked it to rid it of any mud before putting it in the bag.

  Daniel had seated himself on a rock and was staring into the water. ‘There’s fish.’

  ‘I know. Papa used to bring a rod here.’ She perched sideways on a few inches of rock beside him, and was immediately conscious of the warmth of his hip. ‘There’s a rod in the cupboard back at the house, and a reel with line and hooks and a box of flies.’

  ‘Perhaps ‘I’ll try my hand.’ He turned his head and their faces were only inches apart. ‘Can I kiss you?’ he said.

  ‘Yes.’ She took his face between her hands.

  His lips were cool with the water he had just drunk and he was in need of a shave, but it was the kiss she had been wanting and needing for a long time.

  They put an arm round each other and carried on kissing, long and leisurely, rousing latent passions. They could not get enough of each other and desire left them breathing heavily when his mouth lifted from hers.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said, holding her close, ‘has tasted that good in almost two years.’

  ‘No.’ She rested her cheek against his neck. ‘This is like a miracle.’

  He stroked the back of her head. ‘I remember when I first saw you with your hair cut. I’d just been thinking that you’d changed your mind about coming, and it hurt.’

  ‘I remember your face smeared with grease and dirt in the engine room. I wanted to rush over and fling my arms around you – I’d started to believe that I’d never see you again.’

  ‘And now we’re here.’

  She leant against his arm and laughed.

  Daniel grinned. ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘Nothing. I’m just happy.’

  ‘Happy, happy, happy!’ He tried to swing her over on to his knee but could not.

  He grimaced with painful effort and she scolded. ‘Give it time!’

  ‘We’ve lost enough of that.’

  Rebekah stood. ‘We’ll catch up.’ She grasped his hand and he came to his feet.

  They walked back, arm in arm, enjoying the peace and being in each other’s company.

  On exploration of the neglected kitchen garden they found some strawberries and rhubarb. There were potato plants, too, growing among weeds, but they both reckoned it was too early to dig them up y
et.

  Rebekah put the moss on the windowsill to dry in the sun, then made sandwiches from the remains of the beef. She had a cup of tea and Daniel a bottle of Guinness. ‘It’s good for you,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘So are you.’ The kissing this time reminded her of all that was sweet and light. It was honey, sunshine and flowers, and left them both light-headed with joy.

  She ordered him to rest in the garden and he told her that she must as well. ‘I’ve got things to do,’ she protested, smiling. ‘A stew to get ready, and those clothes you were given will need altering. And I’ll have to go for some more water and wash a couple of things.

  ‘Later, girl.’ He took her hand and led her outside.

  They lay in the grass, with his head on her midriff, her arm across him, eyes closed against the sun.

  ‘Less than thirty hours ago I thought you dead,’ he murmured. ‘I’d been shot in an exchange of gunfire outside Four Courts and by the middle of the morning there was a possibility of my joining you in the great blue yonder. “No surrender”, that’s what half of them were saying before the explosion.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘I was wondering what the hell I was doing there. Irishmen shooting Irishmen. It’s a terrible thing, Becky.’

  ‘Why did you join the Irregulars then?’

  ‘Because I wanted what de Valera wanted: a united Ireland. I’d gone back to sea after the ceasefire, believing it was all over. But it wasn’t, and our Shaun got himself involved and went on about me sitting on the fence. He said I had to choose sides. The trouble was I’d been hankering for a fight ever since Green told me you were dead. I wanted to smash his face in because he was crowing, knowing what I was suffering.’ The bitterness was in his voice again.

  Her arm tightened about him. ‘He’s not worth thinking about.’

  ‘I know. But that doesn’t stop me. Especially now I know he’s in charge of your affairs.’

  ‘I can cut the connection. The money doesn’t matter.’

  There was a pause before he said, ‘Was there much?’

  She stilled. ‘You know, I never asked. He gave me an allowance, but there are the shares in the company too. The trouble is that Papa made it so that I couldn’t have control of my affairs until I was twenty-five. I was annoyed about that. Why not twenty-one?’

  ‘What if you married?’

  ‘I don’t know, I never asked.’

  ‘I bet it would be different. It could be why he lied to me.’

  ‘He lied to you because he hates you,’ she said with a sudden surge of anger. ‘It’s as you said – he wanted to hurt you. He’s that kind of man.’ She opened her eyes and pushed herself up on one elbow.

  Daniel twisted his head and looked at her. ‘You must have got to know him pretty well to have discovered that about him.’

  ‘Pretty well. But I’ll never understand him.’ She looked across the garden, thinking now was really the time to tell the truth. But suddenly it seemed like the serpent in the Garden of Eden – destructive. ‘Can we talk about something else?’

  ‘Suits me.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Tell me what you’ve been doing for the last twenty months or so?’

  Rebekah breathed easier and lay back. Daniel seemed to have no suspicion about her and Joshua. And why should he? It seemed incredible to her now that she had actually gone and married him, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do they part. She pushed that thought aside and began to talk about the life she had led in Liverpool that had not involved Joshua.

  ‘This Pat – Brigid’s brother,’ said Daniel after she had mentioned him several times, ‘you went out with him?’

  ‘I was hurting and lonely. It was nothing important. Brigid lost her husband, as you probably know, and it was Pat’s way of cheering us up. I never went out with him alone and I stopped seeing him a while ago.’ She hesitated before saying, ‘What about this Lily Shaun mentioned?’

  ‘Lil has a bike. She was acting as messenger for our units in Dublin.’ His head shifted on her stomach.

  ‘That’s all?’

  ‘No. Our Shaun told her that there was a woman in my past and that I needed help to get over her.’

  ‘He had a nerve,’ said Rebekah indignantly.

  ‘He was never backward in coming forward.’ He yawned.

  ‘And?’ she prompted.

  ‘And we were friendly.’

  ‘How friendly?’

  ‘Friendly, friendly.’

  Rebekah cleared her throat. ‘Like we were friendly after a couple of days?’

  Daniel turned his head and with difficulty moved to press his face against the fabric covering her breast. She felt the warmth of his breath. ‘Never,’ he said in a muffled voice.

  She wanted to believe him. Then she did not want to believe him. It would lessen her guilt concerning Joshua if he had been with another woman, though she hated the thought. ‘I’d better stir myself,’ she murmured. ‘There’s the vegetables to peel.’ She sat up and he moved with her.

  ‘You don’t believe me.’ He stared at her straight in the face.

  ‘Yes I do.’

  ‘You should. It could never be the way it was with you.’ His tone was serious.

  She swallowed, knowing how true that had been for her. ‘I believe you. But I’ve still got to peel the vegetables.’

  There was a short silence, then he smiled. ‘Do you want help?’

  She shook her head and Daniel pressed his lips against hers briefly, then eased himself down on the grass. When she came back out with some newspaper and the vegetables he appeared to be sleeping. She sat on the step, glancing at him now and again as she peeled potatoes, carrots, onion and turnip, and tried very hard not to think about him and Lil.

  ‘You can cook,’ said Daniel in a pleased voice, pushing his empty plate and taking her hand.

  She smiled. ‘Mama made sure I could. The mutton wasn’t too fatty?’

  ‘It wouldn’t be your fault if it was – but it was fine.’ He kissed her fingers.

  ‘Perhaps we could have fish tomorrow?’

  ‘Sure, if the day’s not too sunny I’ll take a rod. Will you be coming with me?’

  ‘I might join you after I’ve been to the village. We’ll be needing more bread and I’d like some fresh milk.’

  ‘You’ll perhaps need to be careful what you say?’

  ‘I know. You don’t have to tell me you’re an Irregular on the run,’ she said lightly, watching him toy with her fingers.

  ‘A deserter.’ His expression was grim. ‘The danger in a place you don’t know, is not knowing which side people sympathise with.’

  ‘I’ll be careful.’

  He nodded.

  She pulled her hand away. ‘I’ll wash the dishes. You have a rest.’

  Daniel frowned, leaning back in the chair so that all the weight was on the back legs. ‘All I’ve done all day is rest. I’m not used to it.’

  ‘You can fix the fire if you’re so desperate to start that shoulder bleeding, or there’s yesterday’s papers you can read.’

  ‘I know what they’ll be saying. Will you get me a paper tomorrow?’

  Rebekah agreed and got on with her chores. Afterwards they sat on the sofa together and she would have altered a pair of trousers for him but he took them out of her hand and threw them on a chair. She was pulled against him and his mouth came down on hers. His kisses demanded and she responded with a hungry desire that dissolved all sensible thought. Physically he was just as attractive to her as in the past and she was not going to start worrying about the rights and wrongs of the situation she had got herself into. On the Samson she had been ready to do anything to stay with him, and she was ready now. They went upstairs. She had to help him undress and did so carefully, conscious that he was watching her every expression. Her fingers checked his bandage before, trembling slightly, they explored his chest and unbuttoned his trousers. She knew better than to arouse him too quickly and just missed tou
ching the source of his manhood, although it was difficult to avoid and she wanted to please him. She knew, though, that she had to pretend that the only sexual experience she possessed had been in his company. Not easy when her subconscious was telling her where to kiss and caress.

  Daniel lay on the bed, watching her undress while the final shafts of evening sunlight played over her body. ‘It’s the first time I’ve seen you completely naked,’ he said quietly. ‘I know you had a good shape because it felt right, but—’

  ‘Shhh!’ She clutched her frock in front of her. ‘You’ll have me blushing.’

  He grinned. ‘I should hope so. Now come here.’

  She went, with that first time that they had made love on the beach in her thoughts. Her need for him took away any inhibitions. He touched and kissed places that Joshua would never have considered. She was high with breathless excitement by the time he finally took her.

  Afterwards she worried as her fingers searched the bandages back and front. He had bled a little. ‘I’m all right,’ he said drowsily, dragging her arm and pulling it across his chest. ‘Go to sleep now.’

  Unexpectedly, depression spoilt the moment. Joshua had a habit of saying those words when he had finished with her. When was she going to tell Daniel the truth? He would not like it. Wouldn’t like it at all! Fear made her feel cold all over. Her arm tightened protectively around him as she tried to shut out a different kind of bedtime memory. She drifted into sleep but the memory followed her and turned it into a nightmare. When she awoke, the decision was made. She was not going to tell Daniel about her marriage.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Rebekah came through the gate, spilling water in her haste, but Daniel had already got up and was in the garden, gazing at the roof.

  ‘Don’t even think it,’ she said, putting down the bucket and rubbing a muscle in her arm.

  He turned and came over to her. ‘Perhaps tomorrow.’ His hand reached for the bucket but she gripped the handle before he could touch it.

  ‘Perhaps in a week,’ she said severely. He just looked at her. ‘Daniel! I don’t want you trying to unblock that pipe while I’m in the village. You’ll do some gentle fishing.’