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

by Pam Howes

  ‘So, is that a yes then?’ Esther beamed. ‘Oh, Dora, I’m so thrilled. We’ll go up and take a look now and decide what we need, make a list, and then we can get it cleared out and cleaned and painted, and you can move all your stuff in.’

  ‘I’m coming up there too,’ Jackie said, jiggling from foot to foot.

  Sammy swept her into his arms and ran up the stairs with her, both giggling.

  ‘He’s in his element,’ Esther said, smiling, as they followed.

  Dora nodded. ‘So am I. You’ve no idea. I have to admit I was getting really quite scared living on Wright Street and now the thought just terrifies me. There are huge rats running about and strange men hanging around. As soon as a house is empty they’re in stripping the lead pipes out and anything else they can sell on. I’m worried they’ll go in mine while I’m at work and steal what precious little I have left. Frank’s put new locks and bolts on, so hopefully that will help for now until upstairs here is ready. I’ll get my brother and some of his big strong mates to help us with the decorating and they can carry the furniture up the stairs. Thank you so much. I’m really grateful, and I haven’t felt this excited for ages.’

  ‘Dora, Joe’s on the phone,’ Esther called up the stairs to the workroom on Friday morning. ‘Are you coming down or shall I tell him you’re busy?’

  ‘I’m here,’ Dora said, running down to take the call. ‘Wonder what he wants? Hope there’s nothing wrong with Carol.’ She took the phone from Esther. ‘Hello, Joe. What’s up?’ She listened quietly as he spoke and then, ‘Of course you can. Jackie will be happy that she’s staying overnight with us. And, yes, I’ll have her while you get things sorted out. Don’t forget we’ll be at Mam’s. Okay, good luck… and Joe, I’m sorry about the baby.’

  She hung up as Esther raised an eyebrow and shook the kettle in her direction. She nodded and sat down next to Jackie, who was colouring dresses for the paper dolls that Esther had cut out for her. ‘Joe wants to bring Carol tonight so he can get an early start tomorrow. He’s got to go and get Ivy from her friend’s in Manchester. She’s, er, apparently lost the baby.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Esther said, raising an eyebrow. ‘You don’t sound very convinced.’

  Dora shrugged. ‘Hmm. Don’t you think it’s a bit too convenient that she goes away for a few days, miscarries while she’s there having a rest, and yet she lugs massive heavy pans around in the ROF canteen, mops the floors and stacks the chairs and seems to be just fine on it? Knowing that she’d miscarried previously, don’t you think she’d have been taking more care of herself this time around?’ Dolly, ages ago, had told her the story of Ivy’s loss of her husband and baby, which wasn’t common knowledge. Joe had never mentioned it but Dora assumed he knew Ivy’s past history too and would have expected her to take care of herself.

  Esther nodded. ‘Maybe she’s had a fall downstairs or something.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Dora said and then, before she could stop herself, blurted out what had been in her mind all along, but she’d been unsure how to voice without sounding like the jealous ex-wife. ‘Or maybe she was just out to trap Joe and was never pregnant in the first place. I told him he was naïve to trust her. She conveniently waited until we were getting back together, in March, to tell him even though she’d supposedly been pregnant since December. Any other unmarried woman would be out of their mind and dying to share it with the father, wouldn’t they?’

  Esther pursed her lips. ‘In my experience, yes, I agree with you. It’s not something you worry about alone if a father is around. But who knows what goes on in Ivy’s head.’ She handed Dora a mug of tea. ‘Well at least you get extra time with Carol this weekend. That will be lovely for the three of you.’

  Dora nodded. She couldn’t wait to see Agnes at dance class tomorrow and ask what she thought.

  26

  ‘I want to go home to my flat,’ Ivy announced as Joe drove through Kirkby towards the prefab estate. He’d picked her up as requested, turning up first thing, but had hardly said two words to her after a quick peck on the cheek and a short hug on Vera’s doorstep. Vera hadn’t invited him in and Ivy took it to mean that she didn’t approve of him. All she’d said was ‘He took his time. He should have come right after I phoned him.’ But Ivy pointed out that he had a job he couldn’t just walk away from at will and a little daughter to see to and there was nothing he could have done anyway. And besides, she hadn’t wanted him there any sooner than Saturday, otherwise her acting skills would have needed to go into overdrive. As it was she’d enjoyed Vera waiting on her hand and foot and a catch-up with the latest Agatha Christie novel she’d brought with her. Taking the odd aspirin and having a hot water bottle behind her back for the imaginary pain while lying on the sofa listening to Housewives’ Choice was a small price to pay for a bit of peace and quiet. And by insisting Joe wait and not come rushing over, she hoped she had made him feel anxious and suitably worried about her, enough to still want to marry her.

  Joe frowned and pulled the car over to the side of the road. ‘Why? I thought you’d be coming back to the bungalow with me. Somebody needs to look after you.’

  ‘I can look after myself. My landlord and his wife are just downstairs if I need anything.’

  ‘Ivy, you’re my fiancée, I insist. Let me look after you. You’ve just had an awful experience again. Who knows how it will affect you as time goes on? I’m taking you to my place and tomorrow I’m bringing your doctor in to see you, no arguments.’

  Ivy chewed her lip. That was the last thing she’d been expecting, or needed. When Joe had asked her earlier what Vera’s doctor had said she’d told him she hadn’t seen him as her own doctor knew her better and she’d rather see him on Monday. She’d assured him there was nothing a doctor could have done anyway.

  She took a deep breath. ‘Joe, I want to go home and if you won’t take me I’ll get a taxi to come for me when we get to yours. And I don’t want to see your kids this weekend. It would be too upsetting for me and unfair on you if you don’t spend some time with them tomorrow. And it won’t affect me as time goes by. I know what you’re thinking, but being pregnant doesn’t do the same to me as it did to Dora. I just need some peace and quiet and my own bed, that’s all.’ She stopped and took a deep breath. He looked so worried and she felt a bit sorry for him, remembering that he’d suffered the loss of his newborn daughter, Joanna. To him this new loss was real, not fake like it was for her. She softened her tone and stroked his arm. ‘Look, maybe you could pop around tonight for an hour. I might feel a bit brighter by then.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure? I really don’t like leaving you in case something goes wrong and you can’t get down the stairs to your landlord.’

  She patted his hand. ‘Joe, stop fretting, I’ll shout for him if I need to. Take me home and with your spare afternoon maybe you could go and watch a match with one of your pals.’

  ‘So, what do you reckon?’ Dora asked as she and Agnes sat with mugs of coffee and flapjacks in the café area of the hall in Kirkby where Marjorie Barker ran her dancing classes. Their daughters were having a tap lesson today and the strains of the Billy Cotton Band Show with singer Alan Breeze performing the old wartime song, ‘The Fleet’s in Port Again’, drifted through the open door. Carol had gone with Uncle Frank to get a few things from the shops for Mam and he was picking them up later. Dora had just put Agnes in the picture about the news of Ivy’s miscarriage and her thoughts on the matter.

  ‘Oh, Dora, I don’t know,’ Agnes said, putting her mug down on the table. She broke a corner off her flapjack. ‘While it sounds feasible, surely to God she wouldn’t do something like that to him. Not when she knows how awful it is to lose a baby and she also knows he knows that too. She wouldn’t be that cruel, would she?’

  ‘Hmm, I think she would. But I can’t say anything to him, can I? He looked upset and worried when he dropped Carol off last night. He apologised for bringing her over before Saturday, but he said he needed to be with Ivy and dashe
d away before I could question him further. Anyway, we’ll see. Time will tell. He won’t marry her if he finds out she’s been lying, will he?’

  ‘I don’t suppose he will, but Dora, that shouldn’t make any difference to the decision you made, should it? Joe still wanted to be with you, baby or no baby. You said you didn’t want him – again – remember?’

  Dora raised an eyebrow. ‘Yes, I do. Oh, I don’t want him back. I’ve made my choice. I’m quite happy to be moving into my new flat soon and with my job and everything. Things are working out right for me at last. And I’m keeping my fingers crossed that Mr Oliver says yes to me having Carol back as soon as we’re settled in.’

  ‘There you go then. It’s a shame it all went wrong for you and Joe, but sadly these things happen. And as long as you and the girls are all right, that’s all that matters.’

  Dora settled her daughters in bed, warning them not to be noisy and disturb Granny, and then ran downstairs. She unpacked a bag she’d brought some sewing in. She was unpicking a pair of curtains and altering them to go in her new sitting room. There were two long slim windows with Georgian panes and she’d bagged a lovely pair of floor-length curtains from Paddy’s market the other day. There was enough fabric, which was a beautiful William Morris golden lily design, to make curtains for both windows and matching cushion covers too. Dora had snatched them up as another woman, who’d also been eyeing them, had turned to talk to her companion.

  The bed settee that Sammy and Esther had given her was already upstairs in the new flat and was brown hide with curved wooden arms. It was immaculate and the mattress was spotless. A much nicer piece of furniture to sit on than the uncomfortable old sofa she’d been given when she’d moved into Wright Street. That could stay down there when she moved in. The new curtain fabric had the same shades of green and gold in it as her carpet squares that were coming with her. Her brother and his mates had worked really hard each night this week after work and had painted the walls in cream and white-glossed the woodwork. Another day or two and everywhere would be finished.

  She felt really excited at the prospect and couldn’t wait. She would be able to invite Agnes and Sadie round for a cuppa without feeling embarrassed by her surroundings. She hadn’t seen either of her friends for a while now, apart from Agnes briefly at the dancing classes. It would be lovely to catch up. Frank, who was out in Liverpool with his docker mates tonight, was meeting her down there tomorrow to do some more painting and she was hoping to move in next weekend. She’d given her landlord a week’s notice along with her final week’s rent. He’d wished her well and told her she could take the old gas stove if it was of any use to her. But the new flat had no gas since Sammy had had the electrics done, so Dora would be leaving it behind. Frank’s mate had got hold of an electric stove for her. That was the beauty of a brother who worked on the docks. He could get his hands on almost anything.

  Joe hadn’t been quite as enthusiastic when she’d told him she had a new place that she’d shortly be moving into, although he’d sympathised over the burglary. She went over their conversation in her mind as she pinned the hems of her curtains.

  ‘New place?’ He’d frowned. ‘I didn’t know you’d got a new place. So, the council have pulled their finger out at last. Not before bloody time either.’

  Dora shook her head. ‘It’s not a council place, Joe. I’m moving into rooms above the draper’s shop where I work. We’re just in the throes of getting it ready for next weekend.’

  ‘Oh, right. Well, that’ll be better than Wright Street for you both.’

  ‘Hmm,’ she said. ‘For all three of us actually. It’s a really big flat. There’s plenty of room for Carol too. It’s permanent, so there’ll be no moving schools, apart from the one time when she comes back to me. She’ll be going to the school Jackie starts in September, All Saints. I’ve written to Mr Oliver. I’m just waiting for his reply. So, you can concentrate on your new family with the lovely Ivy now, can’t you? You can forget all about ours.’

  He’d frowned at the sarcasm in her voice. ‘I don’t want to forget about our family, Dora. How can you even think that? Those girls are my life. And where will they play on Homer Street? It’s too busy outside and I bet there’s nothing at the back of the place either. Maybe you should have waited for a council house.’

  ‘I was sick and tired of waiting. I think they’d forgotten all about us. It could have taken months before I was offered anything. There’s a small private yard around the back of the shop, and Sammy and Esther don’t live too far from there. They have a lovely garden the girls can go to play in.’

  Joe had shaken his head. ‘We’ll have to see what Mr Oliver says then, won’t we?’

  Dora shook the fabric and folded the curtain she’d been working on. She felt a bit mean now when she thought about what she’d said. There would be no new family for Joe now. He’d need his daughters more than ever and she knew he wouldn’t give Carol up without a fight.

  Dora moved into her new flat the following week on the Friday evening after work. Frank’s mate had borrowed his dad’s van and between them they’d brought the rest of the furniture over from Wright Street. It didn’t take long to arrange what little she had in the two rooms and she and Jackie slept like logs that first night. She didn’t feel worried or insecure the way she had at Wright Street and the bedroom at the back was quiet and peaceful with no noisy neighbours to disturb their slumbers.

  Frank brought Carol from Joe’s on the Saturday as Joe said he couldn’t leave Ivy. Once she’d settled the girls in bed, Dora popped downstairs to use a sewing machine. They’d done their usual giggling and messing about but were sleeping now. She wanted to finish making some cushion covers. With her own machine stolen in the burglary it was handy having these to use. It would have been nice to invite Mam and Frank for Sunday dinner tomorrow, but Mam would never have been able to get up the two flights of stairs so Frank was picking them all up from here mid-morning to have their usual Sunday in Knowsley. She wondered if she should ring Joe from the downstairs phone and see how Ivy was, then thought better of it. The woman had never shown consideration for her so why should she bother? If she was honest with herself it was Joe she was most concerned about. Ah well, she’d see him tomorrow when he came to collect Carol. With a bit of luck she should be hearing something from Mr Oliver soon and then they could get Carol settled down here once and for all.

  At least the flat would look really nice if Mr Oliver chose to visit her at home, and no doubt he would. She snipped the thread, turned the last cushion cover right side out and gave them all a press with the iron. Back upstairs she slipped the four covers over the cushion pads, arranged them on the bed settee and stood back to admire her efforts. She checked on the girls, who were flat out side by side with angelic expressions on their faces, long hair fanned across the pillows, one blonde, one dark; chalk and cheese.

  She made herself a mug of Horlicks in the little kitchen area, kicked off her shoes, switched the wireless on for a bit of background noise and picked up a copy of Woman’s Weekly. She looked around her new sitting room with a feeling of pride. It didn’t half look posh with her William Morris curtains. Even Agnes couldn’t afford William Morris fabric and she and Alan weren’t short of a bob or two. Sammy had got her an electric fire that was set into a wooden mantel surround and the fire part glowed like lit coals when it was plugged in. It made the room feel lovely and cosy. Dora felt a rush of contentment wash over her for the first time in months. She had somewhere decent to live and was in control of her life again, and it was a good feeling to have.

  27

  ‘So what do you think, Mam?’ Dora linked her arm through her mam’s as they walked around the large, well-kept gardens of Ashley House Elderly Persons Home. It was one of three run by the authorities that could offer Mam a place and it was just outside Kirkby, so not too far to visit her. So far this one seemed the nicest. The smell of home baking had met them on entering. The communal lounge and dining room
were clean and the furniture was of good quality. Music was playing quietly from a wireless set, there was a television in the lounge and some of the residents were seated around a large table playing board games with members of staff. Miss Smart, the middle-aged warden who’d shown them around, had suggested they take a stroll and left them to it.

  Mam nodded as they sat down on a bench under a tree. ‘It’s not a bad place, chuck. I know I’m losing my marbles, Dora, I’ve known it for a while now. It was funny at first, finding my glasses in the fridge with my library book, and forgetting when I put things in the oven to bake that I hadn’t lit it. I’d be safer in a place like this. And the other old dears seem quite nice. It’s time to admit that I can’t look after myself properly any more. Our Frank’s put his life on hold for me and you’re always worrying about me and can’t keep running over to Knowsley, you’ve got them little girls to think about. Both of you have got your lives to live. I’ve had mine and it’s been a good one.’

  Dora smiled and squeezed her hand. ‘We’ll come and see you every week, you know. And Frank can come and get you in the car so we can have an afternoon at the park when the weather’s nice. So what do you think? To me this one is the best of the three. It’s a bit livelier.’

  Mam laughed. ‘The other two felt like God’s waiting room if I’m honest, chuck. But I like it here and this garden is lovely.’

  ‘Shall we go back in then and tell Miss Smart it’ll do?’ Dora got to her feet and helped Mam up. ‘Dad would have loved this garden, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘He would that. The flower borders are beautiful; so colourful and not a weed in sight.’