by Lyn Andrews
Part II
1939
Chapter Seventeen
FOR THREE LONG YEARS she had lived with those words and the hopes and dreams they both shared. Oh, she had missed him when he had left to join the Empress of Japan, but they had written, they had managed to meet – snatched hours – in Liverpool and Southampton. She had lived only for those hours. Absence did make the heart grow fonder, she told him. In return he assured her all the waiting would be worthwhile, that the separations were the true test of their love. To her consternation he revealed that he had made a promise to his parents the day he had embarked on his career. A promise that he would never marry until he had command of his own ship.
‘You never told me that when you asked me to marry you, David!’
‘Cat, does it matter so much? We’re young, our love is strong, so strong it’s survived all the heartache of separation!’
‘But why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because it’s not important – not to us! We have something so very special that it will survive anything! But I do owe it to them, just as I owe you the life I’ve promised you and it’s a promise I won’t break. I don’t break promises, Cat, not to the people I love. Cat, I love you so much, you do believe me, don’t you?’
She loved him far too much not to believe him and he was looking at her with the light in his blue eyes that she thought of as ‘special’, reserved only for her and she couldn’t resist that look. But she still wished he had told her about it earlier.
She had been to tea twice since that first time, and knowing his mother, she realised that she would never allow him to forget that promise. She had begun to realise, too, that his mother tended to dominate him, as she did his father. And this was a side of him that surprised her, that she had never seen before. He had always been so self-assured and assertive, but on those occasions, apart from ‘Yes, Mother’ and ‘No, Mother’ and ‘Of course, Mother’, he had hardly spoken at all. Only Miss Sabell appeared to be totally unperturbed or in awe of her sister. Cat had realised early that the redoubtable Marjory Barratt was going to be a force to be reckoned with and she remembered and understood now the conversation she had had with Miss Sabell, about ‘pressure’.
There had been a wonderful Christmas in Sydney, the day the two Empresses sailed into the harbour, side by side, accompanied by a flotilla of small craft, and fire ships, their hoses spraying jets of sparkling water. The noise of the small craft blared out their welcome, the Empresses answered with full-throated blasts. It seemed like the whole of Sydney had turned out to greet them.
The White Empress had become her home; she knew every inch of her from bow to stern and she loved that ship. There had been parties on board both ships, parties on the beach, barbeques and dances, and they had made love with a passion never before experienced, knowing how precious their time together was. It had been that Christmas, too, that Marie had announced her engagement to Brian Rothwell.
Brian had been Marie’s first boyfriend, but she didn’t regret the fact that she had never had a succession of them, as her sisters had. At first she had been a little shy with him, but no one could stay shy with Brian for long. His natural sense of humour saw to that. He came from Aintree and his father had a small but thriving factory beside the railway line and shunting yards, manufacturing containers, mostly of tin. Their interests were similar, their backgrounds were similar and neither had wanted to stay home and work in the family business. Close friendship had deepened to love and, with the approval of both families, they had become engaged.
She had been overjoyed but she couldn’t help envying Marie as she showed off the the emerald and diamond ring. She wondered why David had never mentioned becoming engaged. After all, people did have long engagements and it would make their relationship more – she searched for the right word – solid? No, it would show everyone that they were deeply committed to each other. In particular his mother. She had come to realise that the one flaw in his nature – and it had taken her a time to admit that he had any flaws at all – was his subservience to his mother. At first she had told herself it was because he loved and respected his mother that he acquiesced to her demanding nature, but she was no fool. In time, even her love for him could no longer hide this trait in his nature and it disturbed her.
‘But, Cat, we are deeply committed!’ he argued when she broached the subject.
‘I know, but if we were engaged it would be seen to be more – official!’
‘I don’t know what’s the matter with you, Cat. You still love me don’t you?’
‘Oh, of course I love you!’
‘You’ve always been so content, until now.’
She had lost her temper with him then, knowing it was fear of announcing this step to his mother that made him so reticent. But in the end she had her own way.
They bought the ring, a diamond cluster, in Sydney and the announcement was the excuse for yet another party.
‘Happy now?’ he asked her as they danced on the promenade deck of the Empress of Britain, surrounded by revellers from the crews of both ships.
‘Yes.’ She nuzzled his ear. ‘But for one thing.’
He held her away from him. ‘What?’
She smiled. ‘The fact that tomorrow we will be parted again. You sail tomorrow night or have you forgotten?’
He held her tightly as they danced away the hours.
She had always saved most of her money, but Marie was a born spendthrift. When they sailed she vowed to Cat she was a reformed character. From now on she would save hard and the only way she knew how to would be to increase the allotment to her mother.
‘I’ll send her two thirds of my pay. That way if I can’t get my hands on it, I won’t spend it, will I?’
‘That’s sound enough reasoning, for you.’
‘You will be my bridesmaid, won’t you?’
‘What about Doreen and Marlene?’
‘Oh, they’ll have to be matrons of honour, seeing as how they are both married. I’d thought of sweet pea colours. Pale blue crêpe de Chine over lilac satin for those two, a delicate shade of pale pink over azalea satin for you. And white satin and Guipure lace for me!’
‘You’re going to bankrupt your dad at this rate!’
‘But you will be my bridesmaid?’
‘Of course I will, even if I have to wear my uniform!’
‘God forbid!’
After that Marie had started to save her money, buying only useful household items and talking of little else than setting up home with Brian next Christmas, but the ache in Cat’s heart grew. Her letters to David became more heart-rending.
She had visited more countries than she had ever hoped or dreamed she would. From the Far East to the shores of the Mediterranean. From South America to South Africa and a million and one islands in between.
Then there had been their meeting in Southampton last June, when he had told her that there was a chance of him being transferred back to the Empress of Britain. She had been ecstatic. The separation would be over, at last they could think of the future. Even the ominous rumblings in Europe, that stemmed from the rise of Adolf Hitler, could not spoil her hopes.
She had lain next to him on the bed in the flat he had ‘borrowed’ from a friend, sated, and dreaming of all the nights they would spend like this. After that she had taken more interest in all Marie’s wedding plans, thinking soon it would be her turn, despite Miss Sabell’s veiled warnings. She didn’t wear her engagement ring during working hours and the chief stewardess had mentioned the fact.
‘Very wise of you. It did cost rather a lot of money and could be damaged while working. I think it would also be wise not to wear it on your next visit to my sister, either. She takes David’s career very seriously, if you follow my meaning.’
She had nodded, feeling rebellious.
‘Everything comes to those who wait, so the saying goes, I believe. He’s very highly thought of in the higher echelons of the company. I think you’ll
find he is worth waiting for, he will probably be the youngest captain in the company – in any company.’
When she had first suspected she was pregnant she was shocked, then frightened, but after confiding in Marie – whom she swore to secrecy – she felt a new thrill, for as Marie had said ‘You’ll be married before me now and I’ll have to have three maids of honour!’ She had lain awake picturing his face, his expression, when she told him. He would be surprised, then he would smile and take her in his arms and kiss her and tell her that she was infinitely more dear to him. And that even though his mother would be extremely upset, she would have to come to terms with it.
Shelagh Cleary leaned against the wall, just out of sight of the policeman on the dock gate. Her once rounded figure was becoming overblown, but she still considered herself attractive. Men seemed to like a woman with some flesh on her bones, as opposed to the skinny young girls who often came to The Barracks. Her hair had been peroxided and was painstakingly curled and waved. The use of heavy make-up and rouge disguised the lines that had begun to appear, at least from a distance, and most of her clients, as she preferred to call them, didn’t look too closely at her face. They were more interested in her other attributes.
She was used to her lifestyle now. It was easy money and just as easily spent. It was a damned sight easier than slaving in a factory for a few bob a week and the lad was no problem, there was always someone to keep an eye on him. From time to time she had heard of her sister – she numbered among her clients men from the crews of the Empresses. At first she had tried to block Cat’s very existence from her mind, but that had proved impossible. Then as she realised that her sister was quickly rising in her chosen career, her hatred and jealousy had taken hold of her. She wouldn’t admit it, but she would have swopped places with Cat without any hesitation, for at heart she wanted the one thing she would never have and that Cat appeared to have in abundance. Respect.
When she had heard of her sister’s attachment to the young second officer, who had been described to her as ‘the rising star in the company’, a black hatred had consumed her, but it was one of her regular clients who had given her the information that she was about to use to gain her revenge.
She ignored the suggestive remarks of a couple of deck hands, she wasn’t in the mood for that type of business today. Then she saw him. She had seen him before, but he had never noticed her. She stepped forward, smiling like a cat about to savour a saucer of cream.
‘You’re David Barratt, aren’t you?’
She ignored his icy glare.
‘Just got yourself engaged, I hear?’
‘Clear off before I call the police and have you arrested for soliciting!’
She threw back her head and laughed. ‘I’m not trying to pick you up, luv! Now would I do that to my own sister’s fiancé?’
He stared at her hard.
‘You heard me, it is Cat Cleary you’re engaged to, isn’t it? I always said our little Cat would do well for herself!’
‘Who the hell are you?’ he snapped.
‘Hasn’t she told you? I’m her sister. Shelagh. Shelagh Cleary, but these days I call myself O’Mara. Mrs O’Mara. It’s for the boy’s sake you see.’
‘When . . . when did you come back from Dublin?’ he stammered, feeling as though this common tart was an apparition.
‘Back from Dublin? God ’elp us, it’s years since I left Dublin! Since we all left Dublin! What’s she been tellin’ you, she was always a sneaking little cat, that’s the name I gave her when we was kids. Did she tell you that?’ She caught hold of his arm, he had gone very pale. ‘’Ere, you look as though you could do with a drink, luv!’
In a daze he let her steer him across the road and into the lounge bar of the Caradock and it was she who ordered and paid for the drinks. Two large whiskies.
‘’Ere, get this down you, you look terrible!’
She watched him toss down the drink, then drained her own glass. Oh, revenge was sweet. She could almost taste it. It was Cat who had turned her into a whore, so she only had herself to blame.
‘Oh, yes, she was always a quiet one, was our Cat. Proper little Miss Prim and Proper, butter wouldn’t melt in ’er mouth! Like ’ell it wouldn’t! After the old woman she worked for – in service she was – died, she got all kinds of ideas, especially after she took up with that Gorry girl! We weren’t good enough for her then, and after all Maisey and me did for her!’
‘Maisey?’ he repeated, dully.
‘Maisey O’Dwyer. We lived with her in Eldon Street. All of us, Ma and Pa, me, Cat and our Eamon. God, but there were some fine bust-ups in them days, I can tell you! Then she took up with that Stephen Hartley.’ She waited for his reaction. This had been her trump card. It was from him she had first learned of how Cat had met David Barratt. What Cat saw in this man she didn’t know. He looked like a stunned cod fish. ‘I think we’ll ’ave another! Got a ten bob note on you, I’m a bit short right now?’
Without a word he took the money from his wallet and just stared into space as she went to the bar.
She put the change in her purse and put the drinks down on the table. He left his untouched.
‘Carryin’ on with a married man! It would ’ave broke my Ma’s heart if she’d ’ave known. That’s how she got her job, she threatened to tell ’is poor wife about it all unless he got you to help her. Joe Calligan wasn’t ’alf mad about it!’ She sipped the drink. She was enjoying every minute of this. It had been Stephen Hartley who had recounted to her these details, cursing Cat viciously, when by pure coincidence she had mentioned her sister to him on one of his weekly visits.
The whisky burned his dry throat. ‘Joe. Joe’s just . . . just a friend,’ he muttered, inanely.
She laughed raucously. ‘Is that what she told you? Oh, Joe’s a friend alright, a very old friend! That carry on ’as been goin’ on ever since she was sixteen!’
He felt ill and his throat was so dry he couldn’t utter a word.
‘I’ve seen ’er a couple of times, leavin’ the ship. Done up to the nines ’an laughin’ an’ jokin’ with that Marie Gorry. Mind you, they was good to take her in after Ma died. Pa never knows what day of the week it is, always half-cut, he is. But give credit where it’s due, she was never a fool, was Cat. She’s done alright for herself, especially landin’ a catch like you! I’ve ’eard them say you’ll be the youngest captain in Liverpool soon. God, but there’ll be no holdin’ our Cat then! Bloody Lady Muck, she’ll be then! Probably ’ave to make an appointment to see ’er, we will! Probably won’t even ask us to the weddin’.’ She seethed with mock indignation. ‘Another drink, luv? Can’t do any ’arm, havin’ a few drinks with me prospective brother-in-law, can it?’
He didn’t know how he had got out of the pub and back on to the ship. He remembered nothing, except that once back in his cabin he had taken his ‘docking bottle’ and poured himself another whisky. It hadn’t helped. He couldn’t get Shelagh Cleary’s revelations out of his mind. Everything fitted, like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle. He would have dismissed the whole thing as a pack of vicious lies, except for one thing. Stephen Hartley. Cat had never mentioned him in all the years he had known her, except on that first occasion in the Imperial Hotel. And she had admitted that she had a sister called Shelagh. He flung the empty glass against the bulkhead where it shattered into a million pieces on the floor. It summed up his life, he thought bitterly. Shattered into a million pieces by a lying, cheating, conniving . . .
There was a knock on the door. ‘Come in,’ he barked.
‘I’m sorry, David, am I interrupting you?’ Cat said.
‘No. There’s no one I’d sooner see, come in!’
She had never heard him sound so angry. Then she noticed the whisky bottle on top of the locker and the fragments of glass on the floor. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘I’ve just had a long talk with someone you know very well!’
The anger in his eyes and the fury in his voice drained all t
he happiness from her. She had come to tell him about the baby. There was only a skeleton crew aboard and Miss Sabell had already left the ship, so there was no one to tell tales or spy and she had judged this to be the right moment. Obviously it was not. ‘Who . . . What?’ she stammered.
‘Your sister! Shelagh Cleary, or Mrs O’Mara as she now calls herself! The Mrs O’Mara of some repute among the lower elements of the crew and not only of this ship – any ship! A whore!’
The room began to revolve slowly and everything she had intended to say was forgotten.
‘And it was not a pretty tale she told me, either!’
‘She’s always hated me, David!’ she cried.
‘I can believe that! But why all the lies, Cat, and for so long? Lies about your family, about Marie and her family?’
She was too stunned to think clearly. ‘Because . . . because . . . I love you! I didn’t want you to think . . .’
‘I could have forgiven you that, except for Stephen Hartley!’
She clung to the edge of the locker for support. How had Shelagh found out about him? She started to protest but he cut her short.
‘You never did tell me how you met him, in fact you would never even speak of him, but your sister told me! She told me just what you got up to and how you blackmailed him!’
‘No! No! It wasn’t like that! I didn’t know he was married . . . he used me!’
‘And what about Joe Calligan? That affair has been going on since you were sixteen, hasn’t it? I’ll bet you’ve both been laughing yourselves silly behind my back!’
‘It’s all lies, David! Filthy lies! She swore she’d get even with me, one day, because I wouldn’t help her! Don’t you see, it’s all lies!’
‘I don’t think they are! What had she to gain? What had she to lose? Nothing! While you . . . you stand to gain everything and lose everything. Everything you planned and schemed for! Someone of my background with my future! You used me, latched on to me and to my aunt, to claw your way up from the gutter and then, when you realised I was vulnerable . . . you could sit back and be a lady for the rest of your life! Live in luxury! But of course you could have the best of both worlds, couldn’t you? A lovely home, comfortably off and with a loving husband conveniently out of the way for months on end, so you could carry on your little liaisons – providing you were discreet! And me, bloody fool that I am, would never have known! You’re beneath contempt!’