Love Letters in the Sand

by June Francis

  Pete just looked at her, hoping with all his heart that it was true.

  Twenty

  Marty placed the key in the lock, hoping that Bernie was in a better mood this evening. She had been furious with him for coming to see the house without her and going ahead with arranging to rent it without discussing it with her first. He knew that he had made it worse by refusing to be drawn into an argument, saying that he had done so because she was always going on about her friend’s house but he knew that even if he had consulted her she would have complained about moving a few miles away from family and friends.

  When he told her about buying the furniture, she reacted predictably and said that she wanted new. When he answered that they could not afford it, she had responded by telling him that her friend had bought a lovely three-piece suite on hire purchase. He had told her that he had no intention of getting into debt by buying furniture on the never-never. He’d had to pay a hefty amount of key money and they had to watch what they spent for the next few months.

  She had not spoken to him for two days but that didn’t stop her going on at him about his selfishness in front of her mother, sister and Monica. Eventually the three of them had got fed up with her and told her to stop moaning.

  His own mother had been almost as bad, saying, ‘I don’t know why you want to go and live in Seaforth. It’s miles away. You could have come and lived here.’

  He had kept quiet about that being a stupid idea, as the plan was to have a home of their own and it would hardly have gone down well with his mother-in-law, or his wife, if they’d simply decamped to his mother’s place. ‘But I won’t be seeing as much of you,’ she had said.

  ‘You’ve got our Lil.’ He had given her a hug. ‘She and her fella won’t find it easy getting a place of their own. They could move in with you.’ Her face had brightened at that idea and she had suggested it to the engaged couple the next day. The wedding had then been brought forward and was now to take place in September.

  To Marty’s relief he heard the sound of Bernie’s laughter as he walked up the lobby. Perhaps that friend of hers from her old work had come to visit? Then he heard a male voice and recognized it instantly. What the hell was Tommy doing here?

  Marty opened the kitchen door and stood in the doorway, gazing at the scene before him. Jerry was running a couple of Dinky cars along the rug in front of the fire whilst Josie was undressing a celluloid doll.

  ‘So here you are,’ said Bernie brightly, glancing up from a photograph she was holding. Marty noticed that his brother had several more in his fist.

  ‘How did you know where to find us?’ asked Marty, closing the door behind him.

  ‘Purely by accident,’ said Bernie, taking another photo from Tommy. ‘He’s brought presents for the children, as well as some chocolates for me. Isn’t that nice of him?’

  ‘Great!’ said Marty drily. ‘How did this accident happen?’

  ‘I’d just left the Red Lion and was crossing the road when I spotted Bernie,’ said Tommy. ‘I could scarcely believe my eyes.’

  Why did those words sound glib to him? Marty wondered.

  ‘I told him we’d moved here and invited him to dinner,’ said Bernie.

  ‘What is for dinner?’ asked Marty.

  ‘You! You’re always thinking of your stomach!’ she said archly.

  That wasn’t true. But he had been working hard all day and so was bloody hungry. ‘So what is there to eat?’

  ‘Hot pot! I bought some nice breast of lamb from the butcher’s in Linacre Road. I also got some pickled red cabbage and beetroot to go with it.’

  ‘What a thoughtful wife you are!’ said Tommy.

  ‘If only your brother appreciated me,’ said Bernie, handing the photographs back to Tommy and springing to her feet. ‘I’ll go and see if it’s ready.’

  Marty noticed that there were new lace-edged chair back covers on the armchairs and wondered where they had come from. Bernie had asked him about decorating the kitchen and their bedroom and he had agreed to make a start soon but if she was going to start spending the housekeeping on knick-knacks, then she would be running short of money and he would not be able to afford to do any decorating.

  He sat down and began to unlace his shoes. Josie immediately scrambled to her feet and fetched his slippers. ‘For Daddy?’ She placed them in front of him on the rag rug that his mother had made for his old bedroom years ago. He thanked her and put them on.

  ‘You’ve got her well trained,’ said Tommy, pocketing the photographs. ‘Pretty little girl, isn’t she?’

  ‘I’m Daddy’s bestest girl,’ said Josie, picking up the doll and placing it in Marty’s lap. ‘He bought dolly for me, Daddy?’

  ‘She’s got a look of our Peg,’ said Tommy.

  ‘I’ve always thought that,’ said Bernie, coming in from the back kitchen with a casserole dish and placing it on a cork mat on the table. She was smiling to herself as she began to dish out the food. ‘Jerry also takes after your side of the family. Marty, could you fasten Josie into her feeding chair? Tommy, could you get Jerry to leave those cars alone and sit at the table? Then if you could cut some bread?’

  Tommy had trouble persuading Jerry to let go of the cars and eventually allowed him to take them with him to the table. By then Marty had cut the bread and was sitting next to his daughter.

  He looked across the table at his brother. ‘So what were you doing at the Red Lion?’ he asked.

  ‘Having a pint! What else should I be doing?’ Tommy’s expression was one of such innocence that if Marty had not already been suspicious of him, he would have been now.

  ‘If you’d been the age you are now during the war, you’d have been a spiv selling stuff on the black market,’ said Marty, reaching for his spoon.

  Tommy shook his head dolefully. ‘If you’re not careful you’ll grow into Dad.’

  ‘Yes, what a thing to say about your brother, Marty,’ said Bernie, shaking her head at him.

  Marty continued to stare at Tommy. ‘I don’t want you bringing trouble to my door. Bernie might think the sun shines out of you but I don’t.’

  ‘OK!’ said Tommy, frowning. ‘If you’d rather I stayed away, I will. I always believed, though, what Mam taught us, that families should stick together. You know the kind of thing - help each other in times of need.’

  ‘You’re not in need,’ said Marty.

  Tommy agreed. ‘But you might be one day and you’ll be glad of my help, bruv.’

  Marty raised his eyebrows but made no comment.

  They ate in silence and when the men’s plates were cleared, Tommy took out a packet of Players Weights. He offered one to Bernie.

  ‘Ta,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to offer Marty one. He’s given them up.’

  ‘You were smoking Kensitos last time. Collected all the cards, have you?’ asked Marty mildly.

  Tommy’s hand tightened in the act of lighting Bernie’s cigarette and he hesitated before saying, ‘Players are a better smoke.’ He flicked the lighter and lit his own cigarette. ‘So where d’you think our Peg is?’

  ‘One of her friends suggested that she might have got herself a summer job in a holiday resort,’ said Bernie.

  ‘Oh!’ exclaimed Tommy. ‘I suppose that’s possible.’

  ‘Apparently it was something Peggy talked about when they were both working in the Cunard building,’ said Marty.

  Tommy looked interested. ‘I wouldn’t mind a trip to the seaside.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Bernie, the cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth jerking up and down. ‘Can you ride a motorbike, Tommy?’

  ‘Sure,’ he said, grinning. ‘Why d’you ask?’

  ‘Our Dougal is over from Ireland. He’s got himself a job on a building site for the summer. He has a motorbike and sidecar,’ said Bernie, smiling. ‘He keeps it in Mam’s backyard and it would be easy enough to sneak it out. Marty’s going to be busy during his coming week’s holiday decorating this place. It would be
great to be able to take the children to the seaside while he’s busy.’

  ‘You’re not taking the kids anywhere in that sidecar, Bernie,’ Marty warned. ‘Especially not with our Tommy in charge of the motorbike. I’m surprised at you suggesting it.’

  Tommy put on an injured expression. ‘You’re forgetting I was a motor mechanic once. I know about machines.’

  ‘I haven’t forgotten,’ said Marty, his eyes glinting. ‘You’re still wanted for theft.’

  Tommy and Bernie exchanged looks and she laughed nervously. ‘I’m only teasing you, Marty. I knew you’d never agree. You’re such an old stick in the mud.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Marty, getting to his feet and lifting Josie out of her feeding chair. ‘You were quick enough to marry me.’

  Bernie’s lips tightened and she rested her elbows on the table. ‘And you know why.’

  ‘What’s this?’ asked Tommy, a wicked gleam in his eye. ‘An argument between husband and wife?’

  ‘Shut up, Tommy,’ said Marty.

  He suddenly noticed a postcard behind the clock on the mantelpiece and picked it up. ‘Who’s this from?’

  Bernie glanced at it. ‘Oh, it came this morning all the way from New Zealand. It’s from someone called Jimmy. Going by the postmark it’s taken ages to get here.’

  ‘It’ll be from Jimmy Miller,’ Marty murmured.

  ‘I know a Jimmy Miller,’ said Tommy. ‘He drinks in the Red Lion.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Marty. ‘He used to live here but decided to go back to sea.’

  ‘It’s to a Mrs Maisie somebody,’ said Bernie. ‘I couldn’t read the surname.’

  ‘That’ll be his mother,’ said Marty. ‘I’ve her address somewhere. She lives in West Derby now. Maybe Mrs Gianelli might have it to hand. I’ll go round there. I could do with a walk.’

  Both Tommy and Bernie stared at him. ‘You might as well take the kids with you,’ she said quickly. ‘Give me a bit of peace and the walk will tire them out.’

  Marty looked at his brother. ‘Don’t you make yourself too comfortable.’

  ‘I’ll be going soon,’ said Tommy, lighting another cigarette. ‘I just fancy another cup of tea first.’

  Marty set off with the children over the bridge and along Sefton Road to the crescent where the Gianellis lived, knowing he might have made a mistake leaving his brother and wife alone. They had looked all chummy-chummy when he’d come in. Still, as long as Tommy didn’t persuade Bernie to store any pilfered goods in their house, he was glad to get away from the pair.

  Josie chattered away to him while Jerry, clutching the cars Tommy had given him, ran on ahead to where a tent could be seen in a front garden, as well as a small boy wearing an Indian feathered headdress. The front door was open and a young woman was sitting on the step, knitting while keeping her eye on the children. Music could be heard coming from inside.

  Marty was surprised to see her but he recognized her. ‘Aren’t you Irene’s friend from the children’s home?’

  ‘Deirdre,’ she said, smiling. ‘It’s Mr McGrath, isn’t it?’

  He nodded.

  ‘You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here,’ said Deirdre. ‘I have a job at Litherland Nursery and rent a room from Mrs Gianelli during the week.’

  There were footsteps from inside and Nellie appeared.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Gianelli,’ said Marty. ‘I don’t know if Irene mentioned to you that I was moving into her mother’s old house, but a card has come for her mother from Jimmy. I was wondering if you have her address in West Derby.’

  She nodded, adding, ‘Are these your children?’

  ‘Yeah, Josie and Jerry.’

  ‘Perhaps they’d like to stay and play with the other children while I get that address,’ said Nellie. ‘Come on in!’

  He went inside and while she was writing down Maisie’s new married name and address, he asked her if she had heard from Irene yet. She told him that Irene and Bobby had only left for America three days ago, so it was too soon. She asked after Peggy, only to be told that there was no news of her either. He stayed only long enough to get the information he wanted and then left with the children.

  When he arrived home it was to find Bernie alone in the house, washing dishes. ‘So Tommy’s gone,’ murmured Marty. ‘Did he say where he was staying?’

  Bernie shrugged. ‘You don’t think he’s going to tell me if he won’t even tell his own brother? He just said that he’ll see you around.’

  Marty wondered what they had talked about but did not bother asking. She would only tell him what she wanted him to know and the rest she would keep to herself. As he lay in bed that night with Bernie fidgeting beside him, his thoughts were of Irene. He imagined her arriving in New York and making that long journey across America to California in the tracks of many an emigrant who had gone west in search of a new life. He wished she was lying beside him instead of Bernie.

  Twenty-One

  ‘It shouldn’t be long now before we arrive in New York!’ Bobby shouted.

  ‘I can’t wait,’ said Irene, gazing across the dark blue sea. The wind was tearing the clouds apart enabling the sun to shine through at last. In the distance they could make out land. ‘It’s going to be really odd when we’re on terra firma again. I remember our Jimmy saying the ground goes up and down in a really peculiar way until you get your land legs back again.’

  ‘At least we weren’t seasick,’ said Bobby, glancing along the almost deserted deck. ‘I reckon it’s all those trips on the ferry to New Brighton that enabled us to cope,’ she joked.

  The voyage had not met their expectations because, despite it being summer, the weather had been far from kind. Fortunately there had been a library and a cinema on board and a few other hardy souls to keep them company walking the decks as well as attending the keep-fit classes in the gym. There had been little dancing because most of the band had been seasick as well, so Irene had not had the opportunity to wear her sequinned cocktail frock after all.

  ‘California is a lot different to Lancashire, you know,’ said Bobby seriously.

  ‘I’d never have thought of that,’ teased Irene, excited and nervous at the thought of going through customs and finding Dorothy Wilson’s personal assistant in the inevitable crowds that would be there, meeting other passengers off the ship.

  As it turned out it was not as difficult as Irene imagined and once through customs and having collected their luggage, they saw a young dark-haired man holding a small placard with hers and Bobby’s name on it. They went over to him and introduced themselves.

  He smiled as he placed the placard under his arm. ‘Good day, ladies. I’m Harry. Is this all your luggage?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Irene, feeling as if she had been found wanting. No doubt his employer always travelled with loads of luggage.

  ‘Come this way. I have a car waiting.’

  Irene and Bobby glanced at each other and mouthed Bet it’s a limousine! as they followed him. He led them to a long turquoise and white automobile, trimmed with chrome. He put down the luggage and unlocked the boot and placed their suitcases inside. ‘This is called a trunk over here,’ he said.

  Irene nodded. ‘What make of car is it?’ she asked, thinking it would be something to tell Pete when she wrote to him.

  ‘A Chevrolet,’ said Harry, slamming the lid shut. ‘Are you interested in cars, Miss Miller?’

  ‘Only in so much as I have a friend who is,’ she replied.

  Harry unlocked the rear doors and held them open while they climbed inside and made themselves comfortable. He slid into the driving seat and glanced over his shoulder at Irene. ‘Before we go any further, Miss, I need to tell you that Miss Wilson sends her apologies.’

  Irene’s heart sank. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘She had to fly to England, having received news that a dear friend is having an operation and she wants to be with him.’

  ‘I bet that friend is Lenny,’ said Bobby, glancing at Irene. �
��I knew he’d been having some trouble. I hope he’ll be OK.’

  ‘So do I,’ said Irene, although naturally her first concern was for Bobby and herself. ‘So what about our planned journey to California?’

  ‘It’s to go ahead, Miss,’ he replied. ‘We’ll set off in the morning. But, first things first. I’m to take you to the hotel where she has a suite and you’re to stay there tonight. I’ve ordered coffee and cakes to be served in her suite an hour after we get there. I hope that meets with your approval?’

  ‘It sure does,’ murmured Bobby, who winked at Irene before leaning back against the soft leather and gazing out of the window.

  ‘A suite,’ whispered Irene. ‘How much is that going to cost us?’

  ‘Miss Wilson thought you might worry about that,’ said Harry. ‘I was to tell you that it’s all taken care of. You’re to be her guests as if she was there herself to greet you with true Liverpudlian hospitality.’

  Irene had a sudden urge to giggle. When had she ever stayed in a suite in Liverpool?

  A small smile played around Bobby’s lips. ‘You’re in America now, Irene,’ she murmured. ‘Relax and enjoy it. Everything is going to be hunky dory.’

  ‘Hunky dory! What’s that supposed to mean?’ said Irene.

  ‘It means satisfactory, Miss,’ said Harry, meeting her eyes in the mirror before smoothly setting the Chevrolet in motion.

  ‘Miss Wilson is an old friend of Mam and Sam’s, so it doesn’t surprise me that she’s gone out of her way to help us,’ said Bobby.

  ‘Right, I’ll relax as you suggest.’ Irene subsided into the luxurious soft leather and, following Bobby’s example, gazed out of the window at the passing scene.

  ‘Aren’t you excited, Irene?’ asked Bobby. ‘The people, the buildings, I can’t wait to see Broadway and the Empire State Building.’

  ‘The great White Way,’ said Harry. ‘Miss Wilson was so excited when she saw her name up in lights.’