Christmas on the Mersey. Annie Groves
It was after he had left that things all went wrong, and she had got together with Charlie for all of the wrong reasons … But she and Jack would always remember their feelings. They may not be together now, and there was no way that they ever could be, but he was still a good friend to her and that would have to be enough, for both of them.
Fastening Georgie’s romper suit, she tried to push down the painful lump of melancholy that thoughts of Jack always brought. He wanted a life away from Empire Street. He wanted to see the world, conquer mountains. Lifting her nephew into the air she pushed the low point of her life from her thoughts, concentrating instead on baby George and making daft duck noises. This made George laugh, and the sight of his smiling little face raised her own spirits. ‘Just be thankful he’s not old enough to go and fight.’
‘Perish the thought,’ Dolly shuddered, refilling the tea cups.
‘My Sid always used to be up to something, his mother told me.’ All the women in the room knew that Nancy had elevated her Sid almost to the point of sainthood since he became a prisoner of war, which was strange because the two of them did nothing but bicker before his Territorial unit was called up and shipped out to France with the British Expeditionary Force. ‘Boys will be boys.’
No matter how much she tried to behave herself Nancy could not. Playing the dutiful wife did not suit her. She wanted to go out dancing with Gloria. She felt she deserved a little fun after nine months of pregnancy, much of it spent living alone at Sid’s mother’s. There was no use moping about the war, she decided. She absolutely refused to be miserable for long and drag everybody else down.
Rita was happy bouncing baby Georgie on her knee. His little gurgles of delight took her mind off her own children momentarily, especially when the infant chuckled, really chuckled, for the first time. Then he dribbled all over her, making everybody laugh. Who would think that talk of a nappy pin could bring forth such powerful emotions, she thought.
‘Drink your tea while it’s still hot, love,’ Dolly said in that gentle sensitive way that told Rita she knew exactly what she was going through. She gave her a tight, encouraging smile. ‘It doesn’t matter how old your kids are, you still miss them.’
Suddenly tearful, Rita turned her eyes away from her mother now. She did not want to share her fears with her mam about Charlie taking the kids away. Mam had enough on her plate with Frank being home.
‘D’you know where I found this fella?’ Kitty, holding on to her ten-year-old brother by the collar, marched Tommy into the kitchen the following day. His grubby shirt looked especially dirty against his shiny clean face. ‘Swimming in the emergency water tank in Strand Road, that’s where he was! In this weather.’ Kitty gave Tommy a little shove to emphasise her words. ‘It’s a wonder he didn’t catch pneumonia, or drown!’
‘Getaway?’ Danny was sitting on a rickety chair near the sash window, his elbows resting on the table scrubbed clean of any varnish with age and use. He hardly lifted his eyes from the newspaper, spread out on the kitchen table so he could study the weekly football results.
‘Did you wallop him?’ Danny’s words bounced off the sports page, reduced because of paper shortages. He knew there was not much football to study either these days. Most fixtures were cancelled as attention turned to the war effort, although local league competitions were set up and a few, such as the Northern League, did manage to complete the last season. It cut Danny to think more than half of the footballers were unable to fulfil all their fixtures because they had been called up. Teams were dwindling, although when possible guest players would be fielded instead. He sighed; even the footy players were doing their bit.
So far he had been able to dodge Kitty’s questions. At first, before he got this new job, it was natural she should be curious as to why he had not been called up like the other blokes from around here. When he first found out he could not serve his country because of an enlarged heart he had thought of telling his sister he was a conscientious objector, but he knew she would never believe that. The only thing Danny had ever wanted to do was to join the Forces and Kitty knew it.
‘You haven’t listened to a word I said, Danny Callaghan!’ Kitty wondered why she bothered even trying to keep Tommy out of trouble. Danger was like a magnet to the curious boy. ‘He can’t just roam the streets and I’ve got to go back to work again. There’s a Forces dance tonight and I’ve got to do an added shift! I won’t be home until eleven.’
‘I can only mind him until nine,’ Danny said, raising his head now. ‘I’ve got to make a delivery.’ Danny, having been exempted from military duty, was now in a reserved occupation on the docks and earning a regular wage. The reserved occupation conveniently answered the question as to why he hadn’t been called up. Not that Kitty would ever judge him – or anybody else for that matter. She had a heart of gold.
However, Danny had no intention of telling her he had a dicky ticker. He didn’t want to worry her any more than he had to when she was constantly anxious about Tommy’s fragile health and about Jack.
It seemed to Danny that one worry replaced another for everybody. Their fortunes might have taken a turn for the better with regular work for both Danny and Kitty, but there was little to spend the money on. The Government was requisitioning even the most basic things for the war effort, and there was a lack of everything – unless you knew the right people.
‘I don’t like to ask Aunty Doll.’ Kitty looked thoughtful, not always a good sign, thought Danny. ‘She goes to bed around ten if there’s no sign of a raid.’
‘I’m sure she won’t mind this once – shall I go over and ask?’ Danny hardly took his eyes off the paper.
‘I’ll go for a tanner, if you like?’ Tommy said, hoping to get out of his sister’s iron grip. ‘It’s no bother.’
‘I bet it’s not, you little twerp,’ Danny said, getting up from the chair and folding his paper. Tucking it under his arm, he took his cap from the shelf in the alcove near the window and, placing it on his head, he sauntered down the long narrow lobby whistling ‘Underneath the Arches’, his favourite Flanagan and Allen tune.
He had already reached the ever-open front door when Tommy called mischievously, ‘By the way, Sarah’s not in. I saw her going out earlier.’ He grinned when he heard Danny’s footsteps returning up the clean but faded linoleum.
‘And what makes you think that bothers me?’ Danny asked, pushing his flat cap to the back of his thick, black wavy hair, his easy smile showing white straight teeth.
‘I know you’ve got your eye on her. I’ve seen you looking every time she walks up the street.’ Tommy’s mischievous grin lit up his blue eyes. ‘That’s why you call into Aunty Doll’s every chance you get.’
‘You might just land yourself in trouble, spreading tales like that.’ Danny was hoping to catch sight of Sarah before she started her Voluntary Aid Detachment work at the Royal Infirmary. She wasn’t around so much as he would have liked. And, even though he threatened Tommy on a daily basis, his younger brother knew Danny would never lay a finger on him.
‘What’s it worth to keep me trap shut?’ Tommy asked. Like his older brother, he was always on the lookout to earn a few coppers and had no intention of letting this prized opportunity go. ‘If you give me a tanner I won’t tell.’
‘A tanner!’ Danny’s eyes widened. ‘Do you know how long I’ve got to work to earn sixpence?’ He was proud of the fact he had spare coppers to give Tommy in the middle of the week. It hadn’t always been this way, especially when Dad was alive. Memories of the hungry thirties were still fresh in his mind. Danny rattled the change in his pockets, tormenting his younger brother. The war did have some good points. An eternal optimist, Danny always tried to see some good, no matter how bad the situation. He had taken a knock to his confidence when he had been refused for the Forces, but he had bounced back. Worse things happened at sea, he reasoned.