Liverpool Annie

by Maureen Lee

  Lauri looked amused by her confusion. 'There's nothing to be sorry about. The bachelor thing I don't

  mind, and Meg died more than half a lifetime ago. Our time together was short but sweet. We were only twenty. She was killed in the Blitz.' He returned to the subject of his house. 'I would like a young person's opinion on furniture. Having lived in rooms for more than twenty years, I possess nothing of my own except clothes and books. I need to furnish the place from top to bottom.'

  Annie thought he was the most splendid person she'd ever met. How fortunate she'd sat on the stairs those extra few minutes, or they wouldn't have run into each other! He seemed genuinely interested in her views. She suggested he describe the new house and she would offer advice, though warned that up to now the only household item she'd bought was a refrigerator,

  'I'll do better than describe it. My car is parked just round the corner. As you appear free for the rest of the day, if you fancy a trip to Waterloo, I'll show it you.'

  The tiny estate was shaped like a light bulb. There were fourteen identical creamy brick semi-detached houses. Two pairs, which already had people living in them, lined the narrow opening. Infant climbing plants had begun their long journey up the front walls. There was a half-built rockery in one garden, freshly dug flower beds and borders in the others, a tiny hedge. A bright new road sign said, 'Heather Close', with 'Cul-de-Sac' underneath in smaller letters.

  'Heather is the name of the main contractor's daughter,' Lauri said.

  Once past the opening, the houses flared out into an oval, with two pairs on either side, some of which were already inhabited, and one pair directly ahead completing the oval. Annie thought the top pair were in the best position. It was where the king and queen would live, with their subjects spread out either side

  and on guard at the entrance. She was pleased when Lauri drove his Ford Anglia car into the drive of one of the furthest houses, the left one, number seven.

  'Oh, it's lovelyV she breathed when he unlocked the door and they went inside. The hallway was light and bright and airy, with bare pink plaster walls and glass panelled doors.

  'This is nice.' She stroked a glossy wooden cupola-shaped knob on the bannisters.

  'It's the only house to have that particular feature,' Lauri said.

  'Why is that?'

  'I was employed on the site as a carpenter. I took the opportunity to make a few additions to my own property.' They went into the lounge, which had a small curved bay at the front and French windows leading to the back garden. The long red-brick fireplace with little niches each side for ornaments and a rough slate hearth was a work of art. Lauri said it was something else unique to this house.

  'It's super - and I love French windows!' Annie could scarcely contain herself. 'They're the sort of thing you see in films. I've never come across them in real life before. Can we go outside?'

  'Of course, but I'm afraid it's a sea of mud and clay out there.'

  The large newly-fenced back garden was almost triangular, like a slice of cake with the house at the narrow end. Wild new grass and a million dandelions had thrust through the upturned clods of earth, but what caused Annie to gasp with pleasure was the tree almost in the centre; a big willow tree with lacy branches trailing the ground.

  The estate had been built in the grounds of an old house, Lauri told her. 'Unfortunately, the beautiful gardens were destroyed by the builders. Only a few

  trees escaped.' He went on to say he'd always wanted a garden. 'I keep my landlady's tidy, but it's very small.'

  Everywhere was very quiet except for the subdued chirrup of invisible birds and the drone of a bee which had landed on a nearby dandelion. It dawned on Annie what a lovely day it was. She'd been too preoccupied to notice until now. The entire garden was flooded with dazzling June sunshine and the yellow dandelions shone and flickered like candles. Annie blurred her eyes and saw a smooth green lawn bordered by flowering shrubs, a vegetable patch, a garden shed, and small children dodging in and out of the delicate tendrils of the willow tree. She sighed.

  'What's the matter?' asked Lauri Menin.

  'Nothing. I was just thinking how beautiful it will be one day.'

  They went back inside. Annie oohed and aahed over the little breakfast room and the kitchen, which had a double stainless steel sink, white units and a black and white tiled floor. She was equally impressed with upstairs, particularly the bathroom with its pale green suite. The main bedroom was at the back. Through the window, Lauri pointed out the River Mersey shining glassily in the distance.

  She remembered him saying the river would remind him of his childhood in Finland, and asked if he missed his old country.

  'Only that.' He nodded towards the view, and said he'd lived on the edge of a river and the beginning of a forest. 'It was enchanting, but after my mother died, I was very unhappy. My older brothers married and went away, my father was a taciturn man who rarely spoke. When war broke out in 'thirty-nine, I was glad of an excuse to leave.' He'd never felt any urge to return. 'I think of myself as a Liverpudlian.'

  'It's the nicest house I've ever been in,' Annie declared once she'd seen everything there was to see. The Grand was - well, too grand in a way, and compared to Orlando Street, Heather Close was a palace.

  Lauri smiled appreciatively at her breathless admiration and duly noted her suggestions of colour for the walls. 'Would it be too much trouble for you to come with me when I buy the furniture?' he asked.

  Annie vowed it would be a pleasure. The next best thing to spending money was spending someone else's.

  He murmured it was about time he took her home and she was startled to find it was nearly six o'clock. Sylvia, knowing how critically things hung at Stickley & Plumm, would be concerned.

  When the Anglia drew up in Upper Parliament Street, she shyly invited him inside. 'For a coffee and to meet me friend, Sylvia.'

  She was disappointed when he refused. 'Sorry, but I have a meeting at half past seven - in fact, I'm seeing your Uncle Bert.'

  Of course, he belonged to the Labour Party. She gave him her phone number - Sylvia had declared she couldn't live without a telephone and had one installed shortly after she moved in.

  His brown eyes twinkled down at her when he shook hands. 'Goodbye, Annie. Thank you for your help. I'll be in touch soon.'

  'Tara, Lauri.'

  'Annie! Where on earth have you been? I've been worried sick about you.' Sylvia stood with her hands on her hips like a fishwife.

  'I met this lovely chap, Syl,' Annie said dreamily. 'His name's Lauri Menin. We went to see his new house in Waterloo.'

  'What happened at Stickley & Plumm? I kept

  imagining Jeremy Rupert had got the push and attacked you with a knife, like that chap in Psycho.''

  'It wasn't Mr Rupert who got the push, it was me. All he got was a thorough dressing-down or something.'

  'Why aren't you upset?' Sylvia demanded.

  'Because I feel sorry for him. It's tragic, getting your kicks out of forcing your attentions on a young girl. As for Mr Grayson, the man is totally unprincipled.'

  'What the hell are you talking about?'

  'I'm not sure. Is the kettle on?' Annie threw herself onto the sofa.

  'There's tea made. Who's this Lauri chap?'

  'Lauri Menin. We got on like a house on fire and I really liked him. The trouble is,' Annie said wistfully, 'he's ancient, nearly forty.'

  'Jaysus, that's old old. Bruno's not much more than that. By the way, there's a pile of letters for you on the table.'

  There were more rejection letters, and two inviting her to attend an interview. One was from the English Electric in Longmoor Lane, where Mike Gallagher worked as a toolmaker. It was a long bus ride to the outskirts of Liverpool, but according to Mike, working there was a laugh a minute. The company had tennis and badminton courts, a dramatic society, and all sorts of other leisure activities.

  First thing on Monday morning, Annie telephoned and arranged an interview. She di
scovered the wages were twenty-five shillings a week more than at Stickley & Plumm, easily covering her bus fare. The following week she started work as secretary to the Sales Manager of the Switchgear Department.

  The English Electric was as different from Stickley & Plumm as chalk from cheese. Annie's boss, Frank Burroughs, insisted she call him by his first name. He was a harassed man in his thirties with five children and a demanding wife who telephoned several times a day to tick him off for something he'd done or hadn't done, or to complain about the children. An engineer, Frank hated paperwork, and left his secretary to do everything that didn't involve technical detail. His first action was to show her how to forge his signature.

  Annie immediately joined the tennis club. Members were free to invite their friends, so Sylvia bought a tennis frock which had no sleeves, no back and scarcely any skirt, and with Annie in her more demure white shorts they flaunted themselves on the courts all summer. They never went without male partners, though were hopeless at tennis.

  When winter came, they played badminton. Sylvia had a mad, month-long fling with the star player, the English Electric dentist. A proper affair! She went to his house in Childwall two or three times a week and didn't return until the early hours. Annie lay in bed listening for her return, wishing she could bring herself to be more free with her favours. Kissing was as far as she'd gone, and she hated having a tongue thrust in her mouth. It seemed grossly unhygienic.

  Sylvia broke off with the dentist when he wanted to photograph her with nothing on. Meanwhile, Annie had met a young man from the Fusegear Department who'd been in the same class at Grenville Lucas. She went out with him several times, but after they'd dredged up every single memory of their schooldays, there seemed to be nothing else to talk about.

  She had lots of other dates, but rarely felt inclined to go out with the same boy twice. She preferred being with a crowd at parties or the Cavern, where the music and the musicians had suddenly changed. The groups had funny names, like Rory Storm & The Hurricanes and Cass & The Cassanovas, They played something called 'rock and roll' instead of jazz. Sylvia went out with a drummer called Thud,

  Once every few months, Annie went down to London to see Marie. After taking part in numerous off-beat plays in suburban pubs and run-down theatres, Marie had managed to get an Equity card, which meant she could call herself a professional actress. Stardom was waiting just around the corner. In the meantime, her savings having run out, she'd taken up waitressing to keep the wolf from the door.

  Cecy moved to a bungalow in Blundellsands. Bruno was devastated, but didn't ask her to stay. He loved Cecy, but the relationship was doomed. His affair with Eve came to an end and he remained in the big hotel, alone.

  'It doesn't seem right, us having such a good time when so many people are dead miserable,' Annie commented.

  'It's the best reason in the world,' Sylvia snorted. 'Considering the way our parents ended up, I think we should put everything we can into enjoying ourselves. After all, we're nineteen. We're getting on.'

  Lauri Menin's house was gradually becoming a home. The walls were pretty pastel colours, the curtains up, carpets had been fitted throughout. He seemed content to do things slowly, and every now and then would ring Annie from the red telephone at the bottom of the stairs to ask for her advice. 'What do I need for the breakfast room?'

  'A table and chairs, of course, and a dresser if there's space.'

  'Will you help me choose?'

  Annie would meet him in town the following Saturday and they would tour the furniture shops until they found something she considered just right. He seemed happy to leave the selection entirely to her.

  'You must be made of money,' she said one day just before Christmas, when they were in George Henry Lee's and he'd just paid cash for the final major item, a burgundy moquette three-piece that would tone in perfectly with the pink walls and beige carpet in the lounge.

  He shrugged his muscular shoulders. 'I've had nothing else to do with my money but save it all these years. I don't drink, apart from the occasional beer, I don't smoke. I have no expensive vices.'

  Annie laughed. 'Do you have any inexpensive ones?'

  'I bite my nails in times of stress,' he admitted.

  She loved spending time with him, and wished she got on half as well with the boys she met. She would store up things to tell him because he was always interested in what she'd been up to. It was irritating that Sylvia judged him boring, which was the worst sin of all in her book.

  'He's anything but boring,' Annie maintained hotly when the judgement was delivered. 'He's the most interesting man I've ever met. I could talk to him for ever.'

  Two days after another hectic Christmas, Sylvia and Annie went to Litherland Town Hall to see a group called The Beatles, four scruffy young men in desperate need of a haircut and decent clothes. They talked and smoked the whole time they played their instruments -one held his guitar in a most peculiar way, like a

  machine gun. But their music was raw, uninhibited, wild.

  Perhaps it happened that night, no-one was quite sure, but from then on, the entire city of Liverpool began to reverberate to the urgent, pounding beat of rock and roll. The sound gradually spread around the world, but Liverpool was the place to be, particularly if you were young, unattached and had money to spend.

  Annie and Sylvia joined the new clubs that had sprung up and travelled far and wide to the most unlikely venues: town halls, church halls, ballrooms, to hear Gerry & The Pacemakers, The Vegas Five, The Merseybeats . . . The Beatles began to play regularly at the Cavern, where Mike Gallagher could often be seen, always with a different girl. Dressed in black, with long red hair and a turned-up collar, Mike looked very much a part of the club scene. He studiously ignored Sylvia and she studiously ignored him back.

  In August, the girls went on hoHday to Butlin's in Pwllheli. They had a glorious time, but on the Wednesday Annie met Colin Shields from Manchester, a tall, thin young man, desperately shy, with a prominent Adam's apple which wobbled when he spoke. He regarded Annie with sheepish, adoring eyes which she found hard to resist. She willingly gave him her address, and a few days after they'd arrived home, she received a beautiful letter, as lyrical as a poem. The minute he'd set eyes on her, he'd fallen in love, he wrote. She was like a lovely exotic flower. He raved on about her perfect lips, her limpid eyes and peachlike skin. Please, please could he see her again? Manchester was no distance away. He could come on Saturday. If she refused, he didn't think he could go on living.

  Annie didn't show the letter to Sylvia. She wasn't sure whether to be touched or amused. She wrote back and told him she'd meet him at Central Station.

  Over the next few months, she enjoyed having such a lice young man hopelessly in love with her, hanging on :o her every word and fetching chocolates and flowers ill the way from Manchester. But Annie didn't want :o take advantage. She genuinely tried to love Colin shields back, particularly when he proposed and suggested they get engaged at Easter.

  'What should I do?' she asked Lauri Menin. His louse was furnished, though it looked bare without a jingle ornament or picture. He said he was too busy getting the garden into shape to think about such :hings; laying a lawn, planting shrubs, laying coloured jlabs outside the French windows to make something :alled a patio. He'd even built a garden shed with a v^erandah. Every few weeks he asked Annie out to dinner, which Sylvia said was utterly sick considering bis great age.

  'You should follow your heart,' said Lauri.

  'But I don't know where my heart wants to go,' Annie :ried.

  'What does your friend have to say?'

  'Sylvia thinks I should turn him down, but only because she wants to get married before I do.'

  Lauri gave his benign smile. 'That seems rather selfish.'

  'Sylvia's as selfish as they come.' Annie sighed. 'The thing is, Colin and me get on, though not as well as I do with you. And he's got a good job in an insurance company - he's what Auntie Dot would call "a good catch".
His mam and dad are nice, too. He took me to meet them the other week. They made ever such a fuss of me.'

  'I'm not surprised. You're a catch, Annie Harrison. Whoever gets a nice old-fashioned girl like you will be a very lucky man.'

  Annie blushed. It was the first time he'd made such a

  personal remark, though she couldn't understand the bit about being old-fashioned. She considered herself extremely modern and with it. 'I'm not in love,' she confessed, 'but is everyone in love when they first get married? Perhaps love comes after you've lived together a while.'

  'What if it doesn't?' He raised the thick clumpy eyebrows that she always wanted to comb and regarded her kindly. 'I don't want to influence you,' he went on, 'but you asked what you should do. In my opinion, no-one should require advice on getting married.'

  'I just thought if you said, "go ahead", or "definitely not", it might help me make up my mind.'

  'Go ahead then, Annie.' His voice was rather brusque, and she wondered if she was getting on his nerves.

  She thought for a long time. 'See!' she said eventually, 'I knew it would help. As soon as you said, "go ahead", I knew I couldn't possibly. I'll turn him down.'

  There was the strangest expression on Lauri's face which she must have misunderstood. She could have sworn he looked relieved.

  She told Colin gently that she could never marry him, but that one day he would meet a girl who would make a far better wife than she would, a wife who genuinely loved him.

  Nineteen sixty-two dawned, by which time it seemed as if every young man in Liverpool belonged to a rock group. The Cavern gave up jazz altogether and every night was rock and roll. Mike Gallagher took up the guitar and drove his family insane.

  Jerry Lee Lewis came to the Tower Ballroom in New Brighton, followed by Little Richard, with The Beatles on the supporting bill. Annie and Sylvia were there, of course. They went everywhere. At night, they fell into

  bed, exhausted. Annie was glad she was no longer at Stickley & Plumm because her work was suffering. She was tired and made endless mistakes, but as she signed most letters herself, Frank Burroughs didn't notice.