The Leaving of Liverpool (41 page)

Tears sprang to Albert’s eyes. She was a good girl, Emily. More loving than any natural daughter and he was so fond of her and that was another reason why he didn’t want to go. But, as Rhys put it, he was being a selfish old man.

‘Won’t you even think about it?’ Rhys pressed.

‘I will. I’ll think about it.’

Rhys smiled. ‘Don’t be too long about it. I’ve only got a couple of days before I have to go home.’

 

He didn’t have any degree of success with Phoebe-Ann. She came the following night after supper and he was shocked by her appearance, nor could he hide that shock. Emily had warned him but he’d never expected to see her looking so old and downtrodden. Her hair was clipped back and it was lustreless and untidy. Her skin had the unhealthy pallor of malnutrition. The corners of her mouth drooped down and there was a tracery of lines at the corners of her eyes. Between her brows there was a deep, horizontal line caused by the constant frown she wore. Her clothes were drab and shabby and her hands were rough, red and workworn. His heart went out to her when she tried to smile. Emily had tactfully left them alone.

Phoebe-Ann stood twisting her wedding ring around nervously, trying to be cheerful, trying not to let him see how ashamed she was of her appearance.

‘I don’t need to ask how you are, Phoebe-Ann,’ he said gently.

‘Then I won’t say I’m just great, Rhys. I’m not. I’m tired and weary and I’m so sick of being a drudge.’ She sat down by the fire and turned her head away from him so he couldn’t see the incipient tears. ‘I don’t want to sound as though I’m whining either. It was all my own fault.’

He sat opposite her, longing to reach out and take her in his arms, to hold her, to say she would never have to worry again, that she would never have to spend her days and nights working. Instead he asked, ‘Is there no-one who can give you a break?’

She laughed. It was a harsh, abrasive sound that made him cringe. ‘Even his own mother refused to do what I have to do for him and, after I saw them all off, none of his brothers will come near again. There is no-one, Rhys. It’s as simple as that.’

He reached out and took her hands. ‘Oh, Phoebe-Ann, what have they done to you? They’ve turned you into a bitter, worn-out woman. Where’s the pretty, spirited laughing girl I knew?’

His words tore at her heart. ‘She’s dead, Rhys! She died the night he beat me up and you and Jimmy, Jack and Edwin went round to sort him out.’ She withdrew her hands. ‘It doesn’t matter now.’

‘It matters to me, Phoebe-Ann!’

‘It shouldn’t do, for there’s nothing you can do. Nothing I can do either. Haven’t you heard the saying, “Marry in haste, repent at leisure”?’

He felt so helpless. ‘There must be some charity, some institution that could help.’

‘There is. The Parish or the workhouse.’

‘No, I didn’t mean anything like that. He was a sailor, can’t the Sailor’s Society help?’

‘Only if he had died at sea. I enquired. I have tried, Rhys. I’ve asked everyone I can think of and some Miss Millicent told me about, too. I don’t qualify. But I get out for a few hours on a Sunday and our Emily’s good. I think if I didn’t have her I’d have thrown myself in the river long before now.’

Again he reached for her hands, shocked. ‘Promise me you’ll never even think about that, Phoebe-Ann?’

‘I can’t promise you that, Rhys. You don’t have to put up with it all and it would be so easy. A few short steps from the landing stage and the undertow is so strong that I’d be . . . gone in a few seconds.’

He caught her by her shoulders and pulled her to him. ‘Stop it! Stop it, Phoebe-Ann!’

She began to cry softly, then as the sobs shook her he held her closer and stroked her hair.

Until she’d spoken the words she hadn’t thought about it, but it would be easy. A few steps over the chain-link rail, a few seconds and she’d never have to go back to that house again. She’d never see him, hear him or smell him again. And she was so sick of the smell of him. The stench hit her every time she walked through the door and it symbolized just what her life had become: a stinking, rotting mess.

‘Phoebe-Ann I’m not going back until you swear you will stop thinking like that. Even if it means I have to stay here for ever, I will.’

Her sobs quietened. She couldn’t keep him here, it would only make her misery harder to bear, like having a jewel dangled under her nose – something so wonderful but something she could never have. She pulled away from him and wiped her tears away.

‘I wouldn’t do it. I was just thinking aloud.’

‘Promise me?’

‘I promise. Even a miserable life is better than no life at all and, besides, I’d be afraid I’d burn in hell if I did that.’

He was relieved. For a few brief moments he had been quite determined never to return home.

‘I’d best be getting back. I said I wouldn’t be long.’

‘What did you tell him?’

‘That I was coming over here, that’s all.’

He wanted to give her all the money in his wallet but he felt that that would only humiliate her. Instead he mentally noted to leave it with Emily and he’d keep on sending her money for as long as she would need it. At least if some of the financial worries were lifted things might be better for her. And, he couldn’t bear to see her dressed in cast-offs. He gently traced the outline of her cheek with his fingers. ‘Oh, Phoebe-Ann . . . If only . . .’

‘I know! I know!’ she interrupted sharply, turning away from him and reaching for her coat. She wanted to scream and rage that life was so unfair, that she now loved him but it was too late. Too late. The words echoed in her head, mocking her.

‘You’re not going back until you’ve had something to eat.’

Phoebe-Ann turned at Emily’s words and wondered how long her sister had been standing in the doorway, but Emily was bustling about, setting the table.

‘I can’t, Em.’

‘Yes you can. Half an hour more won’t hurt him. How long is it since you ate?’

Phoebe-Ann shrugged. ‘Lunch time, I suppose.’

‘You see, if I don’t keep my eye on her . . .’ Emily addressed herself to Rhys, trying to lighten the atmosphere. It was so charged with emotion that you could cut it, she thought.

‘I’ll walk you back. It’s too late to be out alone,’ Rhys offered.

It was on the tip of Phoebe-Ann’s tongue to say, ‘Who would be bothered with a hag like me?’ but she stopped herself. She didn’t want him to think she was looking for pity. She had to try to hang on to some dignity.

She made him leave her on the corner. She didn’t want him to see the squalor she now lived in.

‘Phoebe-Ann, you know that you only have to call and I’ll come running. Whatever is the matter. You won’t forget that, will you?’

‘No, Rhys, how could I?’

He pulled the collar of her worn coat up around her ears. It was a tender gesture. ‘Take care of yourself.’

She was so close to breaking down that she couldn’t trust herself to speak, so she nodded and turned away and began to walk quickly up the street. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. It would have been just too much to bear.

He watched her go and wondered if he would ever see her again. He shivered as a blast of the icy wind rushed around the corner. At least she’d promised him never to harm herself, and with that he would have to be content, but it was cold comfort. His heart felt like a lump of solid ice as he retraced his steps to Lonsdale Street.

 

He had been gone a week, Phoebe-Ann thought as she closed the door of the house in Princes Avenue behind her and prepared to make her way home. In a few days’ time it would be Christmas but she had nothing to look forward to. She wouldn’t join the crowds in Church Street or Bold Street or London Road, doing their shopping, buying gifts for their loved ones.

She had neither the money nor the inclination. Nor would she join the throng on Christmas Eve when the Christmas tree would be erected in Church Street and the Salvation Army would play carols. There would be no goose, no plum pudding or bunloaf as there had been when her mam had been alive. Now there was no Mam, no Jack or Jimmy. Just Jake. She’d probably go to see Emily in the afternoon but Emily was so happy that it almost made her cry to see her. Albert had promised Rhys that after the holiday he would go back, and early in the New Year Emily was finally going to get married.

Then there would be no Albert and no Emily. Edwin was already talking about looking for a place in Southampton. She dreaded even to think about what her life would be like without Emily living so near at hand. She’d be alone. Totally alone. No, she wasn’t looking forward to Christmas.

She walked up Liffy Street with her head bent against the wind that held a promise of sleet or snow. When she reached the junction of Dove Street and Liffy Street she almost collided with someone and, looking up, she saw a swaying Vinny Malone.

‘Where have you been?’ she snapped.

‘What’s it got to do with you?’ He peered at her through bloodshot eyes and the smell of the liquor on his breath made her wrinkle her nose.

‘I thought I told you never to set foot in my house again!’

‘Miserable old cow,’ he muttered as he staggered off.

Pig! That’s what he was, that’s what they all were.

As she walked into the living room she smelled the liquor. So, he had been here. She took off her coat and turned to Jake. ‘I see that drunken sot of a brother of yours has been here while my back was turned.’

‘It’s supposed to be bloody Christmas an’ I’ll get nothin’ from you!’

She stared at him hard. His eyes were glazed and a trickle of saliva ran down his chin. She felt sick. He was drunk. If he had been able to get on his feet he would be staggering, like Vinny Malone. ‘You’re drunk!’ she screamed at him. A tide of anger, frustration and hatred surged through her.

‘What if I am?’

So, Vinny Malone thought he could come round here and make her life even harder, did he? This was the end. She’d taken all she could take. She began to snatch up all the bits of clothing and the old towels and rags.

‘What are yer doin’ now?’

‘Just what your ma did! I’ve had enough of you, Jake Malone. She can have you back and if she won’t let you in then you can stay in the street until you freeze to death. I don’t care! I’ve had enough!’

She reached out for the handle of the wheelchair but he lashed out, catching her across the side of her face. She screamed and struck back at him. He tried to fend off the blows with his arms but Phoebe-Ann’s fury had given her strength. He roared with pain as her fingers twisted around his hair and with what strength he had in his upper body he grappled with her, dragging himself half out of the chair. She released the grip on his hair and pushed him away and he fell out of the chair and backwards against the range.

She backed away from him, her breath coming in short gasps. It would take all the strength she had left to get him back in the chair but she’d do it. She’d meant what she said: Ma Malone could look after him from now on. She began to pull and heave at him. ‘Damn you, Jake Malone!’ she grunted. Then she realized that his eyes were closed and that he was heavier than usual. She let his weight go and he fell back, his arms limp, his wasted legs tucked under him. He’d passed out! Now what was she going to do? She felt like bursting into tears. She would just have to try again. She bent over him and then gave a cry of horror. He wasn’t breathing! He was dead and she’d killed him! Panic took hold of her. She backed away from him and, wrenching open the door, ran out into the night without either coat or hat.

E
MILY AND EDWIN HAD been sitting making paper chains to decorate the Christmas tree that Edwin proposed to buy on Christmas Eve, after they’d done the last minute shopping in St John’s Market. There was a good fire and Albert was dozing as they talked about the future.

‘Do you think you’ll like it, Em? It will be a strange town.’

‘I suppose I’ll get used to it and I’ll have you home for two extra days. No more spending all those hours on the train. I wrote to Jack and Jimmy today. I suppose by the time they get it we’ll be married or very nearly.’

‘The mail doesn’t take that long. The
Maury
carries the mail and she only takes five days, less most times, and the
Berengaria
and
Aquitania
are just as fast. They’ll have time to write back.’

‘I hadn’t thought about it being so quick.’ She laughed. ‘I know what our Jack will say: “About time too”.’

‘They’re doing very well out there. They work damned hard and soon they’ll have a nice little business. A proper builder’s yard too. I never thought I’d see the day when Jack and Jimmy Parkinson would be gaffers. Last time I was around there they’d just taken on their first bricklayer.’

‘They would have to. Neither of them know the first thing about it. I’d hate to see a house they built.’