The Forgotten Family of Liverpool: A gritty postwar family saga novel that will break your heart

by Pam Howes

  The aerial Frank had got from Epstein’s shop in the city, along with the television set, was an H-shaped metal contraption attached to a piece of wood that could be fastened to the chimney, guaranteeing, according to Mr Epstein, a perfect picture. There was no way it would bring the chimney down if it was fixed up properly, but Mam had said no as it wasn’t their cottage to start messing with, and they were lucky to still be living in it, considering it had come with their late dad’s gardening job, and she was taking no chances. So for now the aerial was propped against the wall under the window in the hope that might do the trick.

  Dora lifted the aerial and propped it on the windowsill and immediately the picture stopped slipping. Frank let out a yell and she hurried back into the kitchen and took off her frilly apron, grinning to herself. She smoothed the skirt of her pale blue cotton dress down and flicked her long hair back over her shoulders. ‘I’m going to start taking some of the food across to the hall,’ she announced, picking up the two dishes of blancmange.

  ‘What was our Frank yelling for just then?’ Mam asked. ‘Has he fixed the picture?’

  ‘No, but I did.’

  Mam frowned. ‘How come you knew what to do when he’s been messing around for flippin’ ages?’

  ‘Because I’m smarter than he is,’ Dora teased as her brother popped his head around the kitchen door, a hopeful expression on his face. ‘Looks like he’s after a sausage roll. See you in a few minutes.’

  Dora smiled as she walked down the lane. Everyone had really made an effort to decorate their homes with colourful bunting and Union Jacks. The outside of the village hall was decked out with them too, and banners decorated the trees and lampposts. It all looked colourful and added a bit of cheer to the village.

  As Dora came out of the hall she passed a tall woman emerging from the nearby graveyard. The woman wore a long and shabby black coat; a black lacy scarf pulled over her head almost covered her face. Her shoulders were hunched and her feet were encased in shoes that were several sizes too big and flopped as she walked. Dora smiled and said ‘Good morning’ but the woman ignored her and shuffled past, keeping her head down. Dora shrugged and carried on her way home. She didn’t recognise the woman. Maybe she was in mourning. Dora knew all about mourning and how it could make a person withdraw into themselves. It was time she visited the graveyard too; Dad, Joanna and Joanie would be in need of fresh flowers. So many loved ones lost, and in so short a space of time. Although the pain was easier to live with these days, it never went away.

  When she arrived back at the cottage she dashed indoors, where her brother was arranging seating in the sitting room under Mam’s instructions. Frank had taken Jackie to the prefab earlier to spend the morning with Joe and Carol, and he’d come back with the message that Joe would be arriving for the street party later with both girls.

  ‘What time did Joe say he was coming?’ she asked, breathless from rushing.

  Frank shrugged. ‘He didn’t say a time. Just that he’d bring them over straight after their own street party.’

  Dora nodded. Her palms felt damp and her stomach felt fluttery with excitement at the thought of seeing Carol again, not to mention Joe. She missed them both so much. In spite of her constant calls, letters and visits to the welfare department asking for a reconsideration of their decision, there had been little change in the situation. She’d never got to the bottom of why it was just Carol they’d removed either; no one would tell her. The six months she’d spent apart from her daughter with no contact had been heartbreaking and she’d relied on her mam and Frank visiting, taking photographs and keeping her up to date. Hearing their news when they arrived home with a crying Jackie had always been upsetting; Jackie asking why Carol stayed with Daddy and she couldn’t.

  Six months ago the authorities had started allowing Dora weekly meetings under Joe’s supervision. Carol had been shy on the first visit and they’d taken the girls to Sefton Park and done all the nice things Dora knew they’d enjoyed before her daughter had been snatched away. She was careful to take things at Carol’s pace and not push her too much. Dora remembered the look on her daughter’s face when she’d produced a dolly from her bag with a dress that matched the one Carol was wearing, which Dora had made her for Christmas. She’d clapped her hands with excitement. ‘Is that for me, Mammy? Her dress is like mine,’ were the first words she’d heard Carol say for ages. She treasured that memory.

  Although Jackie had seen her sister each Saturday since they were separated, they had grown apart. Dora just hoped that as time went on a bond would grow between them again. It broke her heart at first when she and Joe took the girls out and her daughter pushed her away and asked to go back home to Aunty Dolly, but she tried not to let it show. It would take time for them all.

  As promised, Dolly had kept Dora informed with the goings-on at the Belle Vale prefab and, surprisingly, Joe hadn’t moved Ivy in with him. Dolly said Ivy babysat on Saturday nights while Joe played in the band but she never stayed over. She always left in a taxi shortly after Joe arrived home. Dora felt pleased about that, but wasn’t sure why. She knew that if she gave him the least bit of encouragement, Joe would come back to her, but she also knew that she couldn’t forgive him for what had happened, and it would never work. She could never trust him again.

  Soon the neighbours, many of whom had never seen a television set before, began piling into the small sitting room and Mam took orders for tea and squash. Dora kept the kettle on the boil and the tea pot full. Frank handed plates of food around and conversation flowed as everyone found a space to sit, the younger ones on the floor. Thankfully the television picture behaved itself as orchestral music filled cavernous Westminster Abbey while the dignitaries filed in and took their places. The party in the small sitting room got under way as a neighbour dropped in with two bottles of sweet sherry he’d been saving to toast the occasion. There was a mad dash to various houses to collect a few glasses as Dora’s mam only had half a dozen, not nearly enough to go around. When Princess Elizabeth arrived at the abbey, Dora gasped as she caught sight of the stunning gown that had taken eight months to research, design and create.

  She’d devoured every magazine article she could find as details of the dress had emerged. Designed by royal dressmaker, Norman Hartnell, the fabric was reported to be rich ivory satin embellished with silver and gold threads and precious stones. It was hard to tell from the tiny television screen, but Dora had read that emblems representing Scotland, Wales and Canada, amongst others, had been hand-embroidered on the panels of the skirt. She’d have to wait until the first photographs emerged to see the full colour and beauty of the low-necked gown, and the crimson, ermine-trimmed velvet mantle that was attached to the shoulders.

  As the ceremony began, glasses were filled and raised, food consumed and tears shed as the young Elizabeth was crowned with accompanying fanfare. As ‘God Save the Queen’ blasted from the tiny speaker on the front of the television cabinet the whole room rose and joined in singing the national anthem with its new title. Dora swallowed the lump in her throat and sang along with their visitors. She felt quite moved. Elizabeth was the same age as she was and her children were only tiny; Charles not yet five and Anne almost three. Being queen was an enormous task to take on, and it wasn’t one Dora envied. She hoped the young royal couple would still find time for each other and their children. The ceremony finished with Elgar’s ‘Pomp and Circumstance March’ – just as the picture on the screen began its ritual jumping up and down.

  Frank got up from the floor and switched the set off. ‘Well, that was grand. I think we should make our way over to the village hall for the party. I believe there’s more sherry and some ale just waiting to be supped.’

  Mam and Dora cleared the empty plates and glasses and washed up before following the others, carrying the rest of the party food with them.

  ‘Does Joe know to bring the kiddies straight to the hall?’ Mam asked as Dora locked the front door and slipped the key into
her dress pocket.

  They normally didn’t bother locking doors, but one or two neighbours had mentioned they’d noticed a few things missing recently. Nothing of value, mainly food taken from kitchen tables where it had been left to cool, and the odd pint of milk, so Dora was taking no chances.

  ‘Yes, Frank told him. Dolly has organised a street party for the prefabs on the Belle Vale estate so they’re coming here after that,’ she replied as they strolled down the lane. ‘Oh, look at that big cloud, I hope it doesn’t rain. They forecast it, but said mainly down south.’

  ‘We’ll have to whizz everything inside if it does,’ Mam said, squinting up at the cloudy sky. ‘It’ll soon blow over, hopefully. Be nice to see our Carol again.’

  Dora nodded and stopped as she caught sight of the woman in black from that morning. She was walking ahead of them, her head down.

  ‘Who’s that woman, Mam? I saw her hurrying out of the church grounds this morning when I took the blancmanges across to the hall.’

  Mam shook her head. ‘I’ve no idea, love. Can’t say as I recognise her from the back. She looks poor though, with her shoes flip-flopping off her feet like that.’

  The woman shuffled past the entrance to the village hall and didn’t look round, keeping her head down.

  ‘Well, she’s obviously not coming to the party – she’s walked right past,’ Dora said. ‘Oh look, there’s Sadie and Stan and the kids. They must have come up to see her mam.’ Dora yoo-hooed her friend Sadie, who turned and waved, a delighted smile on her round face. ‘I’ve not seen her for ages; it’ll be good to have a catch-up.’

  They caught up with the couple and Dora hugged Sadie. ‘How are you? It’s been a while.’

  ‘I’m okay, thanks,’ Sadie said. ‘It’s good to see you. Where are the girls?’

  ‘Joe’s got them. He’s bringing them over later.’

  ‘Oh, lucky you. Stan, you see to our lot while I go inside and help Dora and her mam with the food,’ Sadie ordered.

  ‘It’s okay, Sadie, we can manage,’ Dora said. ‘You’ve got your hands full.’

  But Sadie was adamant. ‘And that’s precisely why it’ll be nice to take a break, buttering bread and making sarnies,’ she muttered, following them inside. ‘I need a bit of peace. Little ’un was up all night. She’s cutting her back teeth. I’m that tired, I could sleep on a washing line.’

  Dora laughed. Sadie and Stan had four under-sevens and, by the looks of things, were well on the way to producing number five. ‘Are you…?’ She nodded in the direction of Sadie’s swollen stomach.

  Sadie puffed out her cheeks. ‘For my sins. It’s the last one, and this time I mean it. Doctor thinks I should get sterilised afterwards. I can’t take any more. I’m so worn out. I mean, look at you, all fresh and slim as a rake and I look old enough to be your mam. I wish we’d have stopped at two, like you.’

  Dora chewed her lip and looked away.

  Sadie’s hand flew to her mouth, her cheeks flushing bright pink. ‘Oh my God, Dora, I’m so sorry. I forget at times that Carol was a twin, and you having to deal with all your troubles. Me and my big mouth.’

  ‘It’s okay, Sadie, really. Please don’t upset yourself. Come on, let’s get cracking and put the kettles on.’

  Sadie waddled across to the sink and filled the kettles while Dora got the large tea pots out of the cupboard.

  ‘I was going to write to you later this week if I didn’t see you today,’ Sadie said, once the kettles were on the gas hob. She wafted a hand in front of her warm face and looped her dark hair behind her ears. ‘My next-door-but-one neighbour, Elsie, is moving in a couple of weeks. The council have offered her a new ground-floor flat. She can’t manage the stairs any more, her knees have gone. Anyway, her house is up for grabs until the full clearance happens in our area. As fast as people are being rehoused the landlords put somebody else in the old properties.’

  Dora frowned. ‘How come they haven’t offered you and Stan anything yet?’

  ‘Ah well,’ Sadie began. ‘With this new one on the way they now say we’ll have to wait for a four-bedder, but they’re few and far between. Fella from the housing said we’d move up the list as soon as I drop this baby. Anyway, what do you reckon? I can ask the landlord to hold it for you if you’re interested. Elsie keeps it spotless. It’s a nice little house.’

  Dora nodded slowly. ‘Tell you what, I’ll have a good think about it and discuss it with Mam and Frank. And I’ll have to talk with Joe, of course, in case I get Carol back eventually. Don’t say anything to them just yet, but it sounds perfect and just what I need.’

  Sadie smiled. ‘I won’t. It’d be great having you as a neighbour and Carol could go to school with my Philip and Heidi. You’d be in with a good chance of a nice new place eventually, Dora. It’s well worth thinking about.’

  ‘And I definitely will,’ Dora promised, feeling a little thrill of excitement at the thought of having her own home again.

  5

  Joe and the girls arrived and Jackie ran to Dora for a cuddle. Carol hung back, her arms around Joe’s leg. He tried to loosen her grip, but she clung on until Uncle Frank crept up behind her and made her jump by pulling on her plaits. She squealed and flung herself into his arms. He swung her up onto his shoulders and, grabbing Jackie by the hand, led them towards a long trestle table where Mam was supervising the little ones into place. Frank sat Carol down with Jackie next to her. He gave them plates of sandwiches with the promise of cake, red jelly and pink blancmange to come, and went back to Dora and Joe.

  ‘Thanks, Frank,’ Dora said. ‘They look happy enough now.’

  ‘Fancy a pale ale?’ Frank asked. ‘I’ve got a stash hidden away.’

  ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got any sherry?’ Dora asked hopefully.

  Frank winked and dashed inside the hall, coming out with three full glasses.

  Dora gasped. ‘Frank, I’ll be flat on my back at this rate. I only wanted a drop.’

  ‘Get it down you, Sis. Not every day we celebrate a new queen on the throne. Start of a fresh era. We can put the war stuff well and truly behind us now. All the scrimping and scraping, and move on. This country’s in for big changes. There are better things to come, you mark my words.’

  Joe nodded. ‘Yep, there are. I’m thinking of applying for a new job soon.’ He took a sip of his drink as Dora looked questioningly at him. The breeze blew strands of hair into her eyes and she brushed them away.

  ‘Where?’ she asked. ‘And how will that affect where you live? The prefab comes with your job.’

  ‘Oh, it won’t be for a while, and by then I’m hoping to have enough put away to buy my own little place. I’ve been saving for a deposit and my mum might help out a bit too if I ask her. The ROF can’t keep going much longer. The country doesn’t need arms any more. I’m looking at jobs in the motor trade. That’s where the money is going to be for the future. The only thing is, I may have to move out of Liverpool.’

  Dora felt her jaw drop as he looked away and took another sip of his drink. He had a shifty air about him, as though he were keeping secrets. Was he going to announce that he wanted to marry Ivy? A shiver ran down her spine and she looked at Frank, who raised his eyebrows.

  ‘But what about Carol? I’ll never see her if you move away. Who’ll look after her? Dolly won’t be around. And where will you go anyway?’ Dora’s questions tumbled over one another.

  ‘Er, I’m not sure yet. There’s nothing in the city at the moment, but time will change that. Like I say, cars are going to be big business for the future. Bentley and Rolls-Royce at Crewe are advertising, but I need to get other things into place before I do anything.’

  Dora folded her arms. ‘What other things?’

  Joe looked at Frank. ‘Can you give us a few minutes, mate. I’d like to talk to Dora in private.’

  ‘Of course. I’ll go and join the kids for jelly.’ Frank hurried away, leaving the two of them alone.

  ‘Shall we go inside the hall?�
�� Joe suggested.

  ‘I suppose so, but there’ll be women coming in and out to refill the tea pots. We can go and sit at the bottom end on the stage.’

  She led the way through the room where they’d held their wedding reception seven years ago; such a happy day with a wonderful future to look forward to. How could something so promising go so wrong? She sat down on the edge of the stage.

  Joe sat down beside her. He drew a deep breath and looked at her closely.

  ‘I need to ask you something, Dora. Whatever answer you give me, that’s it; I promise never to ask you again.’

  Dora felt butterflies in her tummy as she gazed into his eyes. She remembered how he’d made her feel exactly the same in their early courting days.

  He took another deep breath and began. ‘I’m going to be totally honest with you.’ He stopped and cleared his throat, looking embarrassed. ‘I still love you, I think you know that. And in spite of everything, I think you still have feelings for me.’

  She chewed her lip. Although they’d agreed to remain fairly friendly and amicable for the girls, this was the last thing she’d been expecting to hear today. He took her hand and laced his fingers through hers. She was tempted to pull away, but resisted as he started speaking again. ‘Us being apart is just stupid. The kids need us, this to-ing and fro-ing with Carol isn’t good for her. She’s getting really naughty in school now and I’ve had complaints from her teacher recently about her not paying attention and being lippy when spoken to. She needs stability and I can’t do that on my own. If we were back together I’m sure the welfare would raise the ban on her being with you full-time. You can’t keep living with your mam, Dora, there isn’t enough room. Jackie needs her own bed now, and not sharing with you. And it’s not fair on Frank, sleeping on the sofa or at his mates’. It’s not right for any of us. Why don’t you come home, love, make us a family again?’