For Better, For Worse

by June Francis

  She kissed him, aware as she did so that he dared to fumble with the zip at the back of the dress. She felt like screaming but did not have the breath and besides, he had spent his winnings on her.

  Once she had breath, she murmured, ‘Your mother would have a fit if she caught you doing that.’

  He whispered, ‘Things will be different when we reach Australia.’

  ‘I’m not going to Australia. Father won’t give his permission. He’ll say I’m too young.’

  ‘That’s just an excuse. He wants you to keep house for him, to shop and cook now he’s stopped going on those long sea trips.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Grace had replied after thinking over what he had just said. ‘But it’s understandable. I’m his only child and he’d miss me terribly.’

  ‘Just like he missed your mother, but still went away to sea for months,’ Dougie had sneered in response.

  Grace was stung by his words. ‘It was all he knew, and it would have been difficult him getting another job,’ she said hurriedly.

  ‘He wanted his cake and to eat it,’ Dougie had flung the words at her.

  ‘You can say what you like,’ said Grace. ‘He still won’t give his permission.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ said Dougie. ‘I’ll get Mother to talk him round. I’ll tell her you’re pregnant. I could make sure of that now.’ He seized hold of her tightly, hurting her.

  Grace gasped. She considered it unlikely that her aunt would try and talk her father around or mention pregnancy as that would not reflect well on Dougie. If it had been true, her father would have accused him of taking advantage of her. She decided to say no more and it was several minutes later that Dougie complained, ‘I thought you’d jump at the idea of us going off on our own. You said you loved me.’

  She sighed. ‘You said you loved me. If that was true, then you’d have said you’d wait until I come of age when I’m twenty-one.’

  ‘I don’t want to wait. I want you now and to emigrate now,’ Dougie had wheedled. ‘I’ve heard there’s talk of Germany rearming. There could be a war!’ He put his arms around her and drew her against him. ‘I want you, Gracie.’ He pressed hard against her and she felt the bark of the apple tree through the fabric of her dress. ‘Why do you have to keep me waiting like this?’

  * * *

  As she hurried to the tram stop, Grace remembered yet again how annoyed she had felt then and on other occasions. ‘Dougie! Not this again, get off me! If by that, you mean doing “it”, there are several reasons, as I’ve told you in the past, and just now, they still stand – your mam would hit the roof! And Dad would be so disappointed in me. I would be terribly ashamed if I really were pregnant – what would people say?’

  ‘Well, you wanted it one time, told me you were curious,’ retorted Dougie.

  ‘That’s only half true! You wouldn’t take no for an answer, and when I almost gave in to you because I was curious, and then changed my mind, you got violent. It hurt when you hit me like that, Dougie…’ Grace had trailed off, as she remembered how shocked she had felt at the time.

  ‘Women aren’t supposed to enjoy it,’ Dougie replied. ‘They get pleasure by pleasing their husbands and wanting children.’

  Grace had half-believed him but still pushed him away, just as she had felt his hand creep under her skirt and ping her garter hard, before kneading her thigh. ‘You’re not my husband, so it’s still no!’

  ‘You’d prefer being left on the shelf, then do you, Gracie?’ Dougie had replied with an odd little giggle that irritated her.

  ‘Of course not. But whatever you say, I can’t marry you without permission before I’m twenty-one, and so, no, I won’t be emigrating any time soon.’

  ‘We’ll see.’

  ‘Yeah, we will,’ she said as she felt raindrops dampen the shoulders of her jacket as they dripped from one of the trees.

  ‘You have too much to say for yourself,’ he said sulkily.

  She patted his cheek, feeling fed-up from going over and over the same thing again and again. Hopefully, their being parted would make him realise the sense of them having to wait and give her time to sort out just what she felt about him. One thing was for certain there were times when he really got on her nerves. Perhaps absence would make her heart grow fonder.

  ‘Well, you don’t have to listen to me. Thanks, I’m tired, so I’m off home to Dad’s. Besides, here comes the rain. Goodnight!’

  * * *

  But now, as Grace boarded the tram alone, her emotions were in chaos. She remembered that evening with Dougie so clearly – it had been the last rainfall before the weather had changed and given way to a heatwave. It must have only been a month ago. Grace had thought, almost up to the last minute, that Dougie would change his mind and not go to Australia after all, especially given that his mother wept whenever the idea was mentioned. It had been her father who’d suggested Dougie might go on ahead, and once he had settled in Australia and found a job and a decent house for them to live in, he could then send for her, and Grace could follow him out, once she had come of age.

  Dougie’s last words to her the previous night, as they had looked up at the Liver birds, on the eve of his departure, were similar to those he had repeated several times over the last year or so: there was no future for him in Liverpool due to the Wall Street Crash causing businesses to go to the wall and mass unemployment and a financial slump even here in Britain, the biggest since 1929. Grace had argued with him, pointing out that he was lucky enough to still be in work, besides she had a part-time job, and the Mersey Tunnel was about to be opened by King George V, which would surely improve business opportunities. But Dougie had shaken his head, saying that the Mersey Tunnel was not going to save Liverpool. Several shipping lines had already left the city and moved to Southampton due to the dockers’ Bolshie attitude, and he knew better. After that Grace had given up trying to change his mind, knowing that she was wasting her time.

  And, if she was honest with herself, she was looking forward to enjoying the next few weeks without him moaning, anyway – Liverpool was buzzing because the King and Queen Mary would soon be visiting to open the Mersey Tunnel and there were all sorts of festivities and outdoor plays planned. Dougie was so jealous of Grace spending time with anyone other than himself, she doubted if he would have let her go if he was still in the city, and as he was so dismissive of her plays and books, he was hardly likely to come with her himself.

  So, today, at the dockside, she had put aside their quarrel, and with a brave face she had kissed Dougie quickly and wished him a safe journey. He had told her to write and promised he would send her a picture postcard and a long letter from every place the ship called in at on the way. He had then looked at her closely and told her she was his, forever. Grace found the intensity of his stare a bit much, so after a final hug she had stepped back, so his mother and sisters could say their farewells – Dougie’s father had been unable to see his son off as he was at work.

  * * *

  As she sat down on a seat on the lower deck of the tram, Grace sighed heavily and thought of their muted farewell. It had been a mistake telling Dougie that she loved him. But Dougie had said he loved her so often, that it required some sort of reply to stop him getting angry with her. Although, normally he only said it as a preamble to him trying to unbutton her blouse, so Grace had felt a bit wary as to the sincerity of his words. Her friend Milly and her husband Jimmy loved each other, really loved each other, but recently Grace had come to realise that rush of what she had believed to be love at first when Dougie had kissed her was not what she now believed love was and had become increasingly aware that Dougie’s and her feelings for each other fell short of her friend’s relationship. Truth be told, she envied Milly, and now wondered whether this prolonged absence really might cause her and Dougie to see there was more to love than what they felt for each other.

  To distract herself from her confused state of mind, Grace paid the conductor for her ticket as he walked betwe
en the seats with his ticket machine and thought back to her father’s strange speech at the quayside. There was something odd about his time in Australia, not that Norman had given much away.

  The tram passed St George’s Hall, and Grace noticed the decorations to celebrate the King’s visit for the opening of the Mersey Tunnel later in July. The heatwave still showed no sign of abating, so no doubt the crowds who would turn out to see King George V and would swelter. Right now, the heat was making her feel sick and dizzy, and as the tram swayed down West Derby Road, Grace clung on to a strap as she prepared to leave the vehicle. She stepped down from the tram on to the pavement and narrowly avoided being run down by a small truck. She felt the wind rush as it passed her and for several seconds she froze in her tracks. She stared after the truck which came to a halt a few yards away. A man climbed out of the driving seat and gazed at her.

  ‘Have you a death wish, luv?’ he shouted.

  Chapter 2

  Grace looked at the stranger and bit back the angry words that sprang to her lips.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t see you coming,’ she said faintly.

  The man inclined his head. ‘You gave me a start that’s all. Sorry I shouted. I guess I was going too fast. Stupid of me. I have a clean record and I don’t want to spoil it. I can’t afford to lose my job.’ He paused. ‘Are you all right?’

  Grace nodded, which was a mistake, and she swayed. The man hurried back towards her and placed an arm about her waist and half-carried her from the road onto the pavement.

  ‘Have you far to go?’ he asked.

  She was about to shake her head, only to remember just in time that wouldn’t be such a good idea, so she just stared up into his sweaty, anxious features. His jaw was tense, and his dark hair, which was threaded with threads of silver, was unruly, as if he had been running his hands through it. His hazel eyes were narrowed, and she thought held a look of desperation.

  ‘No, just to that street there.’ She pointed. ‘I’ll be all right.’

  ‘Grace!’ called a woman’s voice. ‘What’s going on?’

  She recognised the voice of Milly, one of her neighbours, her close friend who was heavily pregnant.

  ‘Milly, if you could spare the time, can you walk with me to my dad’s?’

  ‘I’d appreciate it if you could do that, Milly,’ said the man who was propping up Grace.

  Milly glanced keenly at him. ‘I know you?’ she asked.

  ‘We have met,’ he replied. ‘I haven’t time to talk now.’

  ‘Ben Evans, that’s who you are,’ said Milly triumphantly.

  His lips twitched in a faint smile. ‘You’ve a good memory. I must go. I’ve wood to deliver to the site before I go home, and I’m in a rush to get to Alder Hey first.’

  His hold on Grace slackened and Milly took his place. They watched him as with shoulders bowed, he walked to his truck.

  Milly who was around the same age as Grace, was the first to speak. ‘So, how come you’re snuggled up to him when you’ve just been seeing Dougie off to Australia, hey?’

  ‘I wasn’t snuggling up! I just missed being run over by him in his truck. I don’t know which one of us was the most startled,’ said Grace with a shiver. Together they turned the corner into a street of three-bedroomed-terraced houses with lower-bay windows and a small area with iron railings at the front.

  ‘His wife was killed in a road accident,’ confided Milly. ‘He took it very badly as they had only been married a few years and had a young boy. He had no female relative to help look after little Simon, so he’s had to be mother and father to his son and hold down a job.’ She frowned. ‘Something must have happened to him if Ben’s in a rush to reach Alder Hey. It used to be a military hospital during the First World War, but is now a children’s hospital.’

  ‘Poor man,’ said Grace. ‘I hope his son will be all right. How long ago is it since his wife was killed?’

  ‘Probably about six years. Simon’s ten now.’

  ‘How come you know him?’ Grace straightened up, recalling that Milly was pregnant, which was reason enough for her not to be bearing Grace’s weight.

  ‘He knows Jimmy, both are joiners and have been doing some work for Jones, the Welsh building contractor, out past Bootle way,’ said Milly. ‘I met his wife at the Grafton years ago, we bumped into them when Jimmy and I were dancing, so we had a drink together and got talking. I doubt he gets out much now. In fact, I know he doesn’t, because Jimmy told me so.’

  ‘I suppose that’s because he can’t get someone to sit with his son,’ said Grace.

  Milly shook her head and her curls bobbed. ‘He doesn’t want to bother people and he wouldn’t leave Simon in the house on his own.’

  ‘Where do they live?’ asked Grace.

  ‘Just the next street to us – Saxon Street.’

  ‘Not far then,’ Grace said.

  Milly smiled. ‘It wouldn’t be any trouble to me to help him out.’

  Grace said, ‘I hope his son is all right. You’ll let me know when you hear, won’t you?’

  Milly nodded as they came to a halt outside Grace’s home. ‘You all right now?’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ said Grace. ‘Do you want to come in for a cuppa?’

  ‘I better hadn’t. I want to get a casserole in the oven.’

  ‘See you around then,’ said Grace, taking a door key from her handbag.

  Milly waved and walked away.

  Once Grace was inside, she sat down in the armchair for a rest for half an hour or so. Feeling a bit stronger, she then checked the cupboards in the back kitchen and decided to nip to the Co-op grocery store on Whitefield Road, and to May’s as well, the corner greengrocers. It didn’t take her long to buy what she needed, and she was soon back in the house and had the shopping put away. Grace quickly prepared a pan of scouse and left it simmering on the glowing coals in the black-leaded range while she boiled the kettle and made a pot of tea and a damson jam butty. That done, she sat down with her cuppa and tried to relax, but her thoughts were all over the place.

  She relived the scene down at the Pierhead – the quayside had been full of vehicles and people and the river had been busy too, with all kinds of craft, despite the slump, but the large steamer that would be taking Dougie to Australia had towered over them all. Grace thought for a moment about her last sight of Dougie. His fair hair had been blowing in the breeze and his handsome features were alight with pleasure as he had turned and waved to them while standing on the deck. Grace guessed that his thoughts were not on her and his sisters and mother, but were on what lay ahead for him. At least there would be no icebergs en-route, such as the one that had sunk the Titanic. Grace sighed, and wished Dougie well, hoping that he would find whatever it was that he was seeking, but there was a small part of her that hoped he would have regrets for what he had left behind: her, his home, family, and all that was familiar – she really did not want what Australia had to offer.

  She quickly shut off those thoughts and concentrated on how she had nearly been hit by the speeding truck. Now she knew about the driver’s son being in hospital, she could understand the man’s actions and forgive him. For an instant, her thoughts flashed back to Dougie again and she wondered how he might have acted if he had received news that she had been injured. Would he have sent a telegram wishing her a speedy recovery or would he even have left the ship at the nearest port and booked passage on the next vessel home? Probably not, when his mind was filled with Australia, she thought with mixed feelings.

  Over the next few days, Grace saw little of her father and forgot about what she was going to ask him about his trip to Australia. She had her job to go to two-and-a-half days a week. It was in a large house on West Derby Road, where she did the housework and prepared an evening meal for the bachelor dentist who lived in rooms over his practice. Her wages came in handy and the hours she worked fitted in nicely now she was living permanently at her father’s home. There only being the two of them and the dog, it did not ta
ke her long to keep the place clean and tidy, do the washing and ironing, shop and cook, and even walk Fergie.

  It was on her way to work the following week that she heard her name being called. She had been thinking of Dougie and remembered those early days when life between them had been sweeter, and had just posted a letter to him, wondering how long it would be before he received his mail and she heard back from him. She was attempting to plot his voyage on a map of the world her father had kept in a drawer in the sideboard for years. She turned to see Milly hurrying towards her. Grace waited until she caught up with her.

  Milly was slightly out of breath when she reached her. ‘Surely you shouldn’t be running,’ said Grace, nodding to her pregnant stomach.

  ‘I’m all right,’ said Milly. ‘I just thought you’d be interested to know that Ben’s son is out of hospital, but Jimmy tells me Ben’s in a bit of a tizzy because Simon has a cracked kneecap, two broken wrists as well as a damaged nose. He fell out of a tree.’

  ‘Oh, the poor lad.’

  Milly nodded. ‘Jimmy also said Ben can’t afford to stay off work but is concerned about leaving the boy alone in the house all day. A neighbour has offered to look in on the boy now and then, but while he’s grateful, Ben doesn’t think that’s the answer as someone’s not with Simon if he needs something.’

  ‘Why not? Can’t the hospital keep Simon in longer?’

  ‘No, they need the bed for a more urgent case, so I’ve offered to have him stay at our house during the day.’

  ‘But won’t you find that tiring in your condition?’ said Grace.

  ‘I’m not going to run around after him,’ said Milly. ‘And the school have said they’ll provide him with books to read and sums to work out. I’ll just make him a midday meal and be company for him. Jimmy reckons he’s a good lad, not rowdy at all. It’ll only be for six weeks.’

  Grace chewed on her lower lip. ‘Is there any way I could help out?’