by June Francis
‘It’s not April until Tuesday and you’ll have it raining again,’ said Irene, laughing.
‘So what!’ said Deirdre, giggling. ‘As the song goes, It’ll bring on the flowers that will bloom in May.’
‘Perhaps we should teach the children the rhyme to do with the number of days in the months,’ said Irene, and launched into ‘Thirty days have September, April, June and November.’
‘Miss, Miss, I’m named after a month,’ said May, skipping along beside her.
‘You’re right,’ said Irene, gazing down at her and feeling a pang of sadness. At the moment the children did not know that most likely within a few months there would be no more walks to the beach.
‘Are you named after anything, Miss?’ asked George.
Irene nodded. ‘My name means Peace.’
‘A piece of what, Miss?’ asked May.
Irene smiled. ‘Not that kind of piece. It means when there’s no fighting taking place and people are living as true friends.’ She thought of the atom bomb and the peace march that would be taking place next Easter weekend at Aldermaston and changed the subject. ‘Now let’s see what wild flowers we can spot.’
It was soon obvious that the most common flower was the dandelion and there was even the odd wild daffodil to be seen. They came to the beach. The tide was out and the children were allowed to run along the sand and search for shells.
The beauty and the vastness of the sea drew her and she found herself looking out towards the horizon and thinking of Betty living thousands of miles away; not just the other side of the Atlantic, but clean across America, not far from the Pacific Ocean.
Irene was aware of a restlessness inside her. She had written to Betty telling her about what was likely to happen to Fair Haven and her job and was impatient to receive her friend’s reply. ‘One day soon,’ Irene murmured.
‘What was that you said?’ asked Deirdre.
Irene threw her a smile. ‘I was just daydreaming and talking to myself.’
‘What about?’
‘Travelling. Wouldn’t you just love to take off and go somewhere far away?’
Deirdre shrugged. ‘Not particularly. Although if I get offered a job, then I’ll go wherever it takes me. But I’d rather it was in England.’
They stood a moment, gazing out to sea and then turned away and, gathering the children together, headed back towards Fair Haven.
It was as they neared the gates that Irene spotted a man standing on the opposite side of the road to the children’s home. He was turned partly away from them but there was something familiar about him. He must have heard them approaching and turned and looked in their direction. Irene’s heart seemed to bounce inside her chest and her pace quickened. She could feel herself smiling.
He crossed the road towards them. ‘Hello, Irene!’
‘Hello, Marty! What are you doing here?’ She stopped a couple of feet away, aware of Deirdre and the children’s curious glances.
Marty looked at the children. ‘Hello, kids,’ he said, nodding at them.
George and May said, ‘Hello,’ but the others either stared at him, dropped their gaze or looked up at Deirdre for guidance.
‘Can I have a private word?’ said Marty to Irene.
‘Shall we go on, Irene?’ asked Deirdre.
‘If you don’t mind,’ said Irene, giving George and May a tiny push in Deirdre’s direction. ‘I won’t be long.’
As soon as Deirdre and the children were a few yards away, Marty said without preamble, ‘Our Peggy’s gone missing.’
Irene was stunned. ‘What d’you mean, gone missing?’
‘She’s vanished.’ His expression was strained. ‘I wondered if she’d been in touch with you.’
‘No! I take it she didn’t leave a note?’
‘She left a note all right, but it didn’t say anything more than for us not to worry and that she could look after herself.’
‘What happened? People don’t just leave home out of the blue! Did it have something to do with Pete Marshall? I heard that he and his mother were visiting your parents’ house.’
‘They did. Our Lil said there was an argument but she didn’t hear everything that was said and neither did Ma. So I don’t know all the ins and outs. But apparently Pete gave our Peggy an ultimatum. Her family or him!’
She did not believe it. ‘You’re joking!’
His expression hardened. ‘Would I joke about such a serious matter?’
‘No, of course not.’ She flushed. ‘I just meant I find it difficult to believe he’d say such a thing. What did Peggy say to that?’
‘I don’t know! Ma and Lil weren’t there and Dad’s isn’t saying much. I think the last thing he expected was that our Peg would leave home.’
Irene folded her arms across her chest. ‘You surprise me. The way she spoke about your father it was obvious that she was scared of him. I’m amazed she hasn’t left home before now, the way she felt. Have you been to see Pete?’
‘Have I hell,’ he muttered savagely. ‘All this is his fault.’
‘How can you say that? It can’t be all his fault.’ Irene chewed on her lip and then asked abruptly, ‘What did his mother have to say about it?’
There was a sudden arrested expression on Marty’s face. ‘Thanks for reminding me that she was there when all this was going on. I seemed to remember Mam mentioning some photographs that she brought to show Dad.’
‘What were they of?’
‘Mam didn’t get to see them. But I remember now our Lil saying that it appeared that Pete’s mother knew Dad years ago.’
Irene looked triumphant. ‘I bet it has something to do with them having known each other in the old days. Go and visit Pete and his mother. I bet your parents know more than they’re letting on.’ She paused. ‘I’m going to have to go.’
‘When d’you finish work?’ asked Marty.
She hesitated.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said with a grim expression. ‘I doubt there’s any way you can help find her. I’ll see you around.’
She watched him stride off, hesitated and then ran after him, catching up with him on the corner of the road. ‘Marty!’ she said breathlessly. ‘Have you had an invitation to Jeanette and Davy’s party?’
He stared at her flushed face. ‘Me and Bernie, both. You?’
She nodded. ‘I don’t suppose in the circumstances you’ll be going?’
‘I’ve already told Jeanette we wouldn’t be there before I knew Peg had gone missing. Bernie doesn’t like Jeanette.’
‘I see,’ said Irene, nibbling her bottom lip. ‘Have you thought Peggy might have got in touch with Jeanette? They were friends long before Peggy and I got to know each other.’
He nodded slowly. ‘You’re right. Thanks. You’d better get back to the kids.’
‘You won’t know but Fair Haven is going to be sold and the children will be moved elsewhere,’ she burst out.
He looked astonished. ‘Why? What will you do for a job?’
‘Our patron has died and her heirs won’t be keeping it on.’ Her voice was unsteady. ‘Something to do with death duties.’
‘Hell!’ He frowned.
‘I don’t know yet what I’ll do.’ She paused. ‘I hope you soon have some good news about Peggy.’
‘Thanks.’ He turned and strode away.
She hurried after Deirdre and the children. ‘So who was that?’ asked Deirdre when Irene caught up with them.
‘My friend Peggy’s brother. She’s left home and the family don’t know where she’s gone.’ Irene groaned. ‘I’ve just remembered there was something our Jimmy told me that I should have told Marty. It’s going to have to wait.’ She sighed, nurturing the hope that he just might turn up at the party that evening.
Lenny’s café was situated on Hope Street, somewhere between Liverpool’s Philharmonic Hall and the Anglican Cathedral. Irene’s friend Betty had worked there part-time as a waitress while she was a student at the nearby Schoo
l of Art. It was a popular meeting place for young people who enjoyed good, cheap plain cooking and music. Not only did Lenny have the most up-to-date jukebox with the latest hit records, he was also licensed for live music and extended hours in the evening for the slightly older generation.
When Irene pushed open the door, it was to find that most of the party guests appeared to have arrived already. Jeanette’s sister-in-law, Lynne, was there with her daughter, Roberta, who worked at Lenny’s on Saturdays. It was Lynne’s American stepbrother, Stuart Anderson, whom Betty had married.
Irene could see no sign of Marty and so, swallowing her disappointment and knowing it was for the best, she made her way over to Jimmy and Tony Gianelli. As per usual, Lucia was hanging around the group, but unusually she was wearing lipstick and had pencilled her eyebrows and wore eye shadow. It made her look older despite the midnight-blue taffeta dress she wore having puff sleeves and a sweetheart neckline above the swell of her small breasts.
Irene greeted her brother. ‘You all right? How’s Mam?’
Jimmy rolled his eyes and plucked a couple of chords on his guitar. ‘Don’t talk to me about Mam. She’s never in.’
‘Does she tell you where she’s going or been?’
‘Not always. I know she does go dancing and the other evening she went to the Royal Court to see a play.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought plays were Mam’s thing,’ said Irene, pulling a face. ‘Does she ever mention who she goes with?’
He shook his head. ‘I know it’s not Gertie Marshall.’
‘They’re still out of friends?’
‘Yeah! I did ask who she was going out with instead.’ He shrugged. ‘She just smirked and touched her nose. In other words “mind your own business”!’
Irene sighed. She had hoped the two old friends would have made up their quarrel and Gertie might have discussed what had happened at the McGraths’ house with Maisie. But no such luck.
‘D’you think Mam’s got a fella?’
Jimmy frowned. ‘I hope not. I don’t want her getting bloody married again. The last thing I want is an older man coming to live in our house and throwing his weight around.’
She could understand how he felt. ‘You haven’t seen anything of Pete at all?’ she asked.
Jimmy shook his head.
‘So you haven’t heard that Peggy’s left home?’
Jimmy’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Where’s she gone?’
‘That’s the sixty-four-million-dollar question,’ Irene murmured. ‘Have you seen any more of Peggy’s other brother, by the way?’
‘Yeah, he was in the Red Lion the other evening with some woman,’ replied Jimmy, frowning. ‘But never mind him. What happened to make her leave home? Has Pete got anything to do with it?’
She told him the little she knew and then, noticing that Jeanette’s half-sister had moved away and no one had collared Jeanette and Davy yet, Irene went over to say hello to them.
‘You’re both looking happy,’ she said.
‘We are happy,’ said Jeanette, smiling. ‘You know what they say - new house, new baby.’
Irene was delighted at their news. She congratulated them and Davy moved off to speak to a friend while the two women discussed babies and the house in New Brighton.
‘You’ll be getting plenty of visitors,’ said Irene.
‘That’s what your Jimmy said but all will be welcome,’ said Jeanette, smiling. ‘I can’t wait to move, although I’ll miss ol’ Liverpool.’
‘But you won’t be far away,’ said Irene.
‘No, just a ferry across the Mersey,’ said Jeanette merrily.
‘Now, drinks, you two?’ said Davy, coming up to them. ‘Can’t run to champagne, which I don’t like anyway, but Lenny has Babycham.’
Irene thanked him and as soon as he was gone she asked, ‘Have you heard about Peggy?’
Jeanette’s smile faded. ‘Yes, I had a visit from Marty just a few hours ago.’
‘Oh! I did suggest to him that she might have been in touch with you,’ said Irene.
‘I wish she had. It’s worrying for the family. He asked me if I had any idea where she might have gone.’
‘And have you?’
Jeanette sighed. ‘I could only remember the times Peggy talked about enjoying going to Butlin’s and her mentioning getting a summer job away from Liverpool. That was when we worked together.’
‘But it’s not yet summer!’ said Irene.
‘No, but there’ll be places open at Easter and they must take on staff to prepare for the holiday season,’ said Jeanette. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if she decided to go and visit Pwllheli.’
‘What about Pete – has he been in touch with you?’
‘No, I sent the party invitation to Peggy,’ said Jeanette. ‘I can only presume she never told him about it. I did suggest to Marty that he visit Pete. After all she might have gone running to him. Marty seemed doubtful.’
Irene looked thoughtfully. ‘I suggested he visit Pete, too.’
‘Perhaps he will if we’ve both suggested it,’ said Jeanette.
‘There’s something else I should have told him when I saw him,’ said Irene.
‘You could drop him a note at Quiggins’ shop,’ Jeanette suggested.
Irene decided that was probably the best thing to do, so she wrote a note and borrowed an envelope from Lenny and popped it through Quiggins’ letterbox on her way home.
Thirteen
When Marty was handed the envelope that had been put through Quiggins’ letterbox, for a moment he hoped it was from his sister but he did not recognize the neat, rounded handwriting. He slit the envelope with his penknife and removed the single sheet of paper, reading swiftly. Then he read it again more slowly with a mixture of emotions before folding the sheet of paper and placing it in his overall pocket to get on with the job of gathering together the tools he would need for the job in Allerton and loading them in the company van.
As he worked, Marty determinedly forced the information in Irene’s letter to the back of his mind, knowing he needed to concentrate on the task in hand. It was only at lunch time, when he was eating his corned beef and pickle sandwiches and drinking the coffee that the cook-cum-housekeeper handed to him, that he grudgingly decided perhaps he should heed Irene’s words and make visiting Pete Marshall a priority. It was natural that Irene would be more concerned about Peggy being found than his making an effort to see Tommy again. Due to all the upset of Peggy having gone missing, he had yet to get his mother alone to remind her to keep quiet about his having met with Tommy. He knew he had to make the opportunity as soon as possible.
Marty could not help but feel warm towards Irene for taking the time to write to him with information. She obviously wanted to be of help to him as much as she could. There was only one jarring note in the letter and that was Irene’s reminder that Pete Marshall was a cripple and his brother a policeman. Why had she felt the need to emphasize this? Was it because of something Peggy or Jeanette had said about him? He decided to visit Pete before going home and so he rang Bernie’s mother to let his wife know he would be late that evening.
When he got to Pete’s house the front door was opened by a small plump woman wearing a harassed expression. ‘Yes?’ she asked, frowning up at him.
‘Is this Pete Marshall’s home?’ he asked.
She stared at him intently. ‘Who wants to know?’
‘I’m Marty McGrath. I’d like a few words with Pete if he’s in.’
She pointed a finger at him. ‘You’re the eldest son, aren’t yer? Hang on!’ The door closed in his face before Marty could reply.
‘That’s a bloody good start,’ he muttered, wondering how long he would be kept waiting on the step.
The door was yanked open and Pete stood there. ‘What is it you want?’ he asked without preamble. ‘If you’ve coming looking for a fight, then you’ve come to the wrong house.’
‘I’m not looking for an argument,’ Marty snapped, fee
ling his temper rising. ‘I just wondered if you’ve heard from our Peggy.’
Pete stared at him blankly and then he blurted out, ‘What’s happened? What’s your father done to her?’
‘As far as I know he didn’t do anything to her,’ said Marty, exasperated. ‘All I know for certain is that she’s left home and we don’t know where she is.’
‘Bloody hell!’ Pete sagged against the door jamb.
‘I take it from your reaction that you didn’t know she’d gone. Mam’s worried sick.’
‘I can imagine she would be,’ said Pete, running a hand through his dark hair. ‘What’s Peggy thinking of, running off like that?’
‘Who knows the way a woman’s mind works? I’m still trying to figure it out myself,’ said Marty.
Pete stared at him. ‘Did she leave a note?’
‘Yeah, but it wasn’t much help, just told us not to worry and that she could take care of herself,’ said Marty. ‘It was Irene who suggested I come and see you. I don’t know what went on at Mam and Dad’s when you and your mother visited, and I’d like to know.’
Pete frowned. ‘What have you heard?’
‘That you wanted her to choose between her family and you. Now look here, mate, do you really think saying that would get you anywhere with my dad?’
‘I’m not your mate,’ said Pete in a hard voice. ‘And I wouldn’t have asked her to choose if your dad hadn’t gone on about her marrying a nice Catholic boy. How d’you think that made me feel after she’d chunnered on about her father being so against me because I was a Protestant?’
Marty sighed heavily. ‘He said the same thing to our Lily, so you shouldn’t have taken it personally. He was the same with me about marrying a nice Catholic girl! According to him, if I did, life would be a bowl of cherries.’ He mimicked his father’s voice. ‘All I can say is that he never took to Bernie and that cherries have hard stones in the middle.’
Pete smiled faintly. ‘Ma says that there’s no such thing as the perfect marriage. That’s certainly the impression I got from your parents. Peggy was terrified of displeasing your father and she told me that your mother was scared of him too.’