Queen of the Mersey (35 page)

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Authors: Maureen Lee

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BOOK: Queen of the Mersey
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Anyroad, although Theo might agree to keep Mary on, it wouldn’t be behind a counter. She’d be banished to the stockroom or some other place where she had nothing to do with the customers.

Mary usually behaved herself for a few months and then it would be time for another confrontation. Queenie loved the girl, but hoped she’d get married soon and leave. She was twenty and always had half a dozen young men chasing after her. Hester too, although, as had always been the way, Mary was far more interested in Hester’s boyfriends than her own.

Theo never accompanied her on her visits to Bootle or Crosby. ‘I’d feel in the way. They’re your friends, not mine. You share a history I’ve played no part in.’ To make sure no one thought he considered himself too grand, he would collect her in his car, coming into the house to shake hands and have a few words. The impressive dark blue Mercedes always drew an admiring crowd when it was parked in Glover Street.

The christening of Daniel Albert Monaghan was utter chaos. Even in church, where the new baby was as good as gold and didn’t raise a peep when water was poured over his downy head, the other babies present set up a wail of sympathy.

Toddlers chased each other up and down the aisles, the older children looked bored and talked amongst themselves. The once angelic Sammy, now fourteen and not even faintly angelic, was discovered playing cards with Gus in the back pew.

Vera wept uncontrollably because Albert wasn’t there. The priest looked annoyed.

Mary, who’d invited her latest boyfriend, Paul, to the christening, seemed embarrassed by the way her nieces and nephews were behaving. Laura and Roddy looked amused, and Duncan Maguire, Hester’s boyfriend, with whom, according to Laura, she was madly in love, could hardly keep a straight face. A lovely young man with a boyish smile, a broad Scots accent, ginger hair, and a face covered with freckles, he taught at the same school as Laura; he and Hester had met at a concert the previous Easter.

It was even more chaotic later, when approximately sixty adults and children squeezed into the house in Glover Street and attacked the mountains of sandwiches that had been made earlier.

‘To think,’ Vera panted, ‘that me and Albert had planned on moving somewhere smaller when the lads grew up. And I’m sure that christening cake’s not big enough to go around.’

After quickly stuffing themselves with sandwiches, the men went to the pub, leaving the women to cope with the queue of children waiting to be fed or use the lavatory.

Queenie and Laura, unable to hear themselves speak amidst the noise, went up to Vera’s bedroom for some peace and quiet. The ructions downstairs sounded very far away. They removed their shoes and sat on the bed.

‘Thank the Lord I only had two children,’ Laura said with a sigh of relief.

‘It’s hard enough coping with Hester and Gus.’

‘Hester’s never given any trouble, has she?’ Hester had always seemed the mildest of girls.

‘No, but she’s still a worry, particularly now she’s so smitten with Duncan. She walks around with a sickly look on her face and never hears a word anyone says.

She can’t eat, she can’t sleep – I don’t know how she copes at work.’ Hester was a copy-typist with an insurance company in Southport.

‘Is Duncan equally smitten?’

‘I think so – I hope so, for Hester’s sake. Otherwise, she’ll end up with a broken heart. Trouble is, he’s very young, only twenty-two, and I don’t think he’s had a girlfriend before. His family back in Scotland are very religious. I get the feeling he left home because he felt it was time to spread his wings.’

Laura made a horrified face. ‘If they get married, I might be a grandmother before I’m forty.’

‘You had Hester when you were very young, that’s only to be expected.’

‘I suppose,’ Laura said with another sigh. ‘At Duncan’s age, Roddy had been a father for years.’ There was a noise outside, as if several bodies had tumbled downstairs. They waited for the screams, but there were none. ‘I wonder what that was?’

‘Who knows? I’m glad you two are back together.’ Queenie gave her friend a little affectionate shove. ‘I remember Vera saying once she’d never known two people so much in love as you and Roddy.’

Laura gave her an odd look. ‘It’s not the same as it used to be, you know. I was so innocent in those days, there was something pure about the way we loved each ot her. I hadn’t a single doubt that we’d spend the rest of our lives together.

But Roddy spoilt all that. I still love him, but it’s a rather cynical love these days. I’m always holding back, scared he’ll hurt me again, despite how passionately he wanted me to come and live with him in Crosby.’ She smiled, rather sadly. ‘When we first met, we’d leave each other little notes in this bookshop we used to meet in. We had our own special book, Gibbons’s Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. One day, after he’d been in Crosby a few months, I found a copy in the flat over the road. Roddy had put it there and there was a note inside. From then on, whenever he brought Hester and Gus home from their weekend visit, I’d find another note. I couldn’t bring myself to play the game and leave notes for him. I was holding myself back, you see. But in the end, I gave in and went to live with him. It seemed foolish not to, and it was what the children wanted. Since then, I’ve been happy, but not blissfully happy the way I used to be, despite us being so poor.’ She gave Queenie a searching look. ‘Are you happy, Queenie?’

‘Blissfully happy, Laura,’ she breathed. ‘I wish things were different, naturally, that I could be Theo’s wife, that people wouldn’t look at me as if I were a scarlet woman. Even today, I noticed some of the lads’ wives giving me funny looks – “Isn’t she the one who lives with a married man? Fancy Vera inviting someone like that to the christening.” In Freddy’s, I never use the staff restaurant or go into the shop itself, except when it’s empty, because I know everyone’s staring at me. I stick to my office. It’s only when we go away that Theo and I can pretend to be man and wife. I have a few friends, women I got to know when I first started. We sometimes go to the pictures together, but that’s all.’

‘I’ve never known anyone who looked less like a scarlet woman than you do, love.’ Laura gave her an affectionate look. ‘Theo is a lovely man and I’m so glad you’re happy – blissfully happy!’

‘He bought me a boat for my birthday,’ Queenie said shyly. ‘Actually, he had it built especially.’

Laura’s eyes popped. ‘A real boat?’

‘It’s a motor yacht, eighty feet long, called Queen of the Mersey.’

‘You lucky devil, Queenie Tate. On my birthday, Roddy bought me a powder compact.’

‘Never mind, Laura. I’m sure your powder compact came with as much love as my boat.’

Theo was very quiet when he drove her back to Liverpool. They were almost there when Queenie realised she had completely dominated the conversation, describing the turmoil at the christening, the events afterwards in the house. ‘Some of the children took a pram upstairs. They wanted to see if it would turn over when they let it roll back down.’

‘Did it?’

‘Twice. Is something wrong, Theo? You’ve hardly said a word.’ Perhaps it was because Steven had gone away yesterday and didn’t know when he’d be coming back.

But the silence had nothing to do with Steven.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ Theo said quietly. ‘You were almost the only woman at Vera’s without a child. It hardly seems fair that you should be denied a baby because of me, our situation.’

‘If we had a baby, it would be illegitimate. It would have on the birth certificate that we weren’t married.’ All of a sudden, out of the blue, she remembered Carl Merton getting into bed with her, though not the thing he’d done. She’d deliberately switched herself off and it wasn’t until years later that she accepted she’d been raped. She was still switching it off, denying to herself that it had happened. ‘Did you know you were pregnant, Queenie?’ Gwen Hughes had asked. ‘You were expecting a baby, lovey.’

Queenie shuddered. Theo glanced at her and misinterpretated the shudder. ‘There are worse things than being illegitimate, darling. Not being born at all, for instance. And don’t forget, rich bastards have a far better time of it than poor ones.’

‘I like being a buyer,’ she said weakly. ‘I’d hate to give up Paris Fashion Week and the London shows.’

‘You wouldn’t have to give up anything. We’d get a nurse – there’s plenty of room in the apartment. Or, if you prefer, I’d buy us a house on the outskirts somewhere.’

They had reached the back of Freddy’s. He sounded the horn and, Bill, the nightwatchman-cum-caretaker, came out of his cubby hole, made the thumbs-up sign, and unlocked the padlock on the big roll-up door that led to the garage where Freddy’s green and black delivery lorries and vans were kept and where Theo parked the Mercedes. The door made a terrible grating sound as it slowly opened.

Theo reached for her hand. ‘You know, darling, I think you’re actually frightened of having a baby. I won’t mention the subject again. I’ll leave it entirely up to you.’

Chapter 12

‘What are you doing here?’ asked Vera Monaghan.

The little girl giggled. ‘Me mam left me, Nana, while she went to get hair done.’

‘I don’t remember that. ’Fact, I don’t remember seeing you before. What’s your name?’

‘Carmel.’

‘Carmel what?’

‘Carmel Monaghan, Nana.’

‘Of course!’ Vera cried. ‘You’re our Victor’s little girl. Come and give your nan a nice big hug.’

Mary watched as Carmel hurled herself into Mam’s arms and felt a little niggle of jealousy. She knew it was ridiculous, being jealous of a four-year-old child, but she missed being the apple of everyone’s eye. Now the lads had kids of their own who were far more important to them than their little sister. And Mam, with swarms of grandkids to kiss and cuddle and generally make a fuss of, seemed to forget she had a daughter. Mary felt very unloved and badly missed her dad.

It was Wednesday, half day closing, and she wished she’d stayed in town and had a wander round, except there wasn’t much point when the shops were shut and Liverpool was as dead as a door nail. When was she supposed to buy things for herself ? It was only after lunch when, if she hurried, she could snatch quarter of an hour in C & A or Lewis’s. Even with staff discount, the clothes in Freddy’s were far too expensive.

Should I look for another job? she wondered. In an office, maybe, where I’d have Saturday off, like Hester, and we could go round the shops together. Then she remembered that since Hester had met Duncan Maguire they spent virtually all their free time together, so that idea wasn’t on.

‘Do you fancy a cup of tea, Mam?’

‘I wouldn’t say no, luv,’ Mam said. She was too busy letting Carmel examine her shrivelled elbows to look up. Mary remembered she’d been fascinated by Mam’s elbows when she was Carmel’s age. Now they were more shrivelled and possibly even more fascinating.

What she needed was a boyfriend who worked in a shop, she thought as she ran water into the kettle, and they could go out together on Wednesday afternoons.

In fact, what she needed was a boyfriend, full stop. The supply had dried up all of a sudden, the reason being she no longer went dancing with Hester, the favourite way of meeting fellows. She thought it a bit lousy of Hester to drop her like a hot brick the minute Duncan came along, entirely forgetting she’d done the same to Hester loads of times.

The chap, Paul, whom she brought to Daniel’s christening, hadn’t been in touch since, put off, she felt convinced, by the little Monaghans’ bad behaviour in church. She felt hurt, because she’d slept with him, and had visualised her giving him up, not the other way round.

She was uncomfortably aware that Paul was the fifth chap she’d slept with – she daren’t think what Mam’s reaction would be if she knew. She hadn’t told Hester, who was a virgin; at least had been a virgin when she met Duncan and might not be now. Mary thought it most unfair that making love, which was a very enjoyable experience, was out of bounds to people who weren’t married. She wondered idly if she was over-sexed and rather liked the idea. The trouble was, if she slept around too much, she’d get the reputation of being a slag, which she’d hate. The obvious solution was to get married as soon as possible so she’d have someone permanent to sleep with, but it would have to be someone very nice, very attractive, with whom she felt at least a little bit in love. As there wasn’t a man on the horizon at the moment, not even one who was hideously ugly, the chances of getting married soon were remote.

‘Actually, Mam,’ she said when she went in with the tea, ‘I’ll not bother with a cuppa. I think I’ll go for a walk instead.’ It was July and lovely and sunny outside, whereas inside the house was terribly dark and gloomy. It was about time Mam got some new furniture and had the place done up a bit.

‘All right, luv,’ Mam said absently.

Mary changed out of the black frock she wore for work into a red and white polka-dot three-tiered skirt and a white blouse with a drawstring neck. She put on a pair of white canvas sandals, powdered her nose, renewed her lipstick, brushed her thick brown curls, and inserted a pair of dangly bead earrings. She examined the final result in the mirror and felt pleased with her appearance –

Dad used to say she was ‘as pretty as a picture’ – but wished her nose was a fraction longer. It was occasionally described as ‘snub’, which sounded a bit like a pig.

Why she was taking so much trouble when she was going for a walk around Bootle, she had no idea. She was unlikely to meet the man of her dreams and wouldn’t recognise him if she did.

She walked as far as Marsh Lane where, as expected, the shops were shut apart from the sweet and tobacconist’s, where she bought a Mars Bar. She had a weakness for chocolate, particularly Mars Bars. ‘You’ll get spots,’ Mam warned every time she saw Mary tucking into a bar of chocolate, but so far Mary hadn’t had a single one.

Oh, Lord! This was boring. Perhaps she should catch the train to Southport and meet Hester when she finished work. She looked at her watch; nearly half-past two. If she went now, she’d have three hours to kill, though at least Southport wouldn’t be dead, but packed with holiday makers. She could stroll along the front, treat herself to a cream tea somewhere. But I don’t like doing things like that by myself, she thought piteously. She liked company. If Mam hadn’t had millions of grandkids, they could have gone together.

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