Flowers on the Mersey (21 page)

‘My sweet!’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Is there really any need for that kind of talk?’

‘I suppose not,’ she said stiffly. ‘But think why I don’t like you telling me things like that! I want to forget about anything to do with the struggle in Ireland. I know there were elections yesterday. That in Belfast the streets were festooned with red, white and blue, and that there was trouble. But I don’t
want
to know! Instead why can’t you tell me about the hundreds of unemployed who are rushing to sign ships’ articles and your taking them on so your ships can sail?’ Her tone was disparaging as she remembered Joe’s talk a short while ago. She presumed that he and Pat had gone back to their ship. She had not seen them since the night of the party and she had received no reply to her letter and was feeling hurt.

‘Rebekah, it’s in your interest that my ships sail.’ Joshua was frowning down at her. ‘And you should be glad that at least some of the unemployed are getting work.’

‘I am.’ She closed her eyes briefly. ‘But I bet you’ll be paying them less than you were the chief stewards.’

‘That’s business, I’m afraid.’ He sounded almost
regretful. ‘I would have preferred to pay it to the chief stewards. They’re better at the job but proving stubborn. They’ve formed their own guild with some of the higher ratings of the catering staff.’ He kissed her lightly on the cheek and smiled into her eyes. ‘Let’s forget about all these troubles and talk about us.’

‘What about us?’ Her voice was wary.

‘You must know I’m mad about you.’

‘Do I?’

‘Of course you do.’

She moistened her lips. ‘Say that I do?’

‘You can’t like living with that aunt of yours.’

‘She’s not so bad,’ she said promptly. ‘It’s Hannah who drives me mad. She’d love to get me out of the house.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘It’s like that, is it? Can’t you persuade your aunt to get rid of her?’

‘She’s been with her for a long time. Better the devil you know, I suppose.’

He stared into the distance. ‘Does your aunt still resent my being your guardian?’

‘Yes.’ Rebekah glanced at him. ‘Understandable, don’t you think? She is my closest relative and you were a stranger to me.’

He smiled and patted her hand. ‘But not now. I want to marry you, my sweet, but we don’t want to alienate your aunt.’

Rebekah’s heart had already begun to race
because she had sensed what was coming and wanted to shout, No, no! But all she could say was, ‘Marry you?’ because it was what her father had wanted and she still felt bad about him, but it was all happening too swiftly.

‘Yes, marry,’ he murmured, squeezing her arm against his side.

She cleared her throat. ‘It isn’t a year since Mama and Papa died.’

‘I don’t want to wait.’ His tone was determined.

‘I’d need time to get Aunt Esther used to the idea,’ she said in a rush. ‘She’s not going to like it. She might cut me off just like Grandpapa cut Mama off.’

He tapped a nail against his teeth. ‘That is a thought. Do you know if she’s made a will?’

A small laugh escaped Rebekah. ‘It’s not something you bring up in everyday conversation! Am I supposed to say, “Dear Aunt, have you left everything to me?”’

He frowned. ‘It would make sense for her to tell you, seeing as how you are her next of kin. Anyway, even if she hasn’t, everything should come to you, and by my reckoning she’s the type who doesn’t give business matters the due attention they deserve. I don’t think we really have anything to worry about.’

Anger suddenly flared inside her. ‘I know that money is important but do you really have to speak about my aunt in such a way? I don’t want to think of her dying. Enough people I love have died already.
I’m still mourning although I know I’m not dressed for it. I’d have to wait at least a full year before considering marrying!’

‘A year!’ He stared at her and she was surprised at how anxious his pleasant face looked as he clutched at her free hand. ‘I had hoped – I do love you, Rebekah. I couldn’t bear it if you said no.’ His tongue stumbled over the words. ‘Please do say you’ll at least think about us being married?’

Still she hesitated but her heart softened at the sight of this different side to him. ‘I’d like to know you a bit longer,’ she said warmly, ‘and then maybe the answer will be yes.’

His relief was obvious. ‘Thank you. You won’t regret it if you do decide to marry me.’

She said nothing only smiled. Nothing definite was settled and a year seemed a long way off. But the topic of marriage was to recur a couple of weeks later from a different source.

‘Miss Rhoades! Miss Rhoades!’ Mr McIntyre waved a newspaper in the air, signalling Rebekah to his doorway.

She was wilting from the heat and wanted nothing more than to get indoors, have a cup of tea, a bath, lie down on her new bed, but she pushed open the gate and went up the path past drooping marigolds. ‘What is it, Mr McIntyre?’

‘They’ve declared a truce!’ His strong-boned face
was bright. ‘It’s been signed by General Macready and Michael Collins!’ He nodded his head sharply. ‘You’ll know him? One of the leaders of the Sinn Feiners. Had a price on his head.’

‘Ten thousand pounds at one time.’ She was relieved and pleased even though she had tried not to care about what was happening in Ireland. ‘It’s marvellous! When did it happen?’

He grinned. ‘Come inside, have a cup of tea, and you can read it for yourself. I reckon it’s all down to that Brigadier-General Crozier, who was the leader of the Black and Tans. He resigned because he didn’t like what was going on.’ Rebekah followed him up the lobby. ‘A week or so back he said that you can’t outmurder the murderers, and a whole lot more besides. It looks like the High-ups might have taken notice of him.’

‘It seems like it.’ Rebekah smiled at Edwina.

‘So you’ve come for that cup of tea at last,’ she said, returning her smile.

‘Yes.’ Rebekah took the newspaper thrust under her nose and read quickly of soldiers and civilians discussing peace prospects in Dublin. ‘There’s still difficulties ahead,’ she murmured. ‘The Unionists in Ulster have already set up a parliament. They want to stay in the Empire. President De Valera doesn’t want any part of it.’

‘The North and South will have to agree to differ,’ said Mr McIntyre firmly.

Rebekah frowned. ‘They might yet. But Lord Midleton is elected as a Unionist in the South, so there’s going to be differences of opinion in the Dáil.’

‘I wish you two would stop talking politics’ chided Edwina, putting the teapot on the hob. ‘I’m fed up of hearing about Ireland. Father, go and fetch me a lettuce from the garden so I can chat with Rebekah.’ Mr McIntyre protested but was shooed out, and Edwina turned to Rebekah. ‘Sit down and tell us about the job.’

Rebekah sat. ‘How do you know about that?’

Edwina winked. ‘I heard it on the grapevine. Most reckon that you won’t be working for long, though.’

‘Why do they say that?’ she asked as casually as she could.

‘Because they reckon you’ll be getting married. They’re not sure who to, though. Is it the shipowner with the motor or the dark handsome one they don’t know much about? They’re rooting for the shipowner because he’s your guardian and has money. They say your aunt doesn’t like either of them.’

‘I suppose it’s Hannah who’s been gossiping.’ Rebekah sipped her tea. – The dark one was the brother of a friend but we don’t see each other any more. Joshua has asked me to marry him but I haven’t said yes. If I do marry him, at least with plenty of money I can be miserable in comfort.’

‘Miserable?’ Edwina pulled up a chair close to Rebekah. ‘Tell Auntie Edwina all your troubles, love.
Is it that you’re wanting to get out of that house?’

Rebekah smiled. ‘Aunt Esther I can cope with.’

‘Is it a lover’s tiff with this Pat then? Sounds Catholic. Is it religion?’

‘I don’t love Pat,’ Rebekah said in a low voice. ‘There was someone else but he died.’

‘You’d only be young in the war,’ said Edwina, her brow thoughtful. ‘I presume that is—’

‘It wasn’t the war. He was an engineer on the
Samson
and was lost when it sank.’

Edwina pressed her hand and it was a few moments before Rebekah said, ‘I’m not going to spend my life thinking “if only”. With plenty of money I can have fun and do some good with it!’ She could hear the defiance in her voice. ‘I like my work with the Royal Seamen’s Orphanage Outdoor Relief. I like children.’

‘And you’d like some of your own?’

Rebekah was silent. ‘I have thought about it. There’s this family I visit. They’re orphans but live with their grandmother. I take them out and give her a break sometimes. In their company it’s easier not to think of yourself. Otherwise I do think far too much about my future.’

Edwina looked down at the floor. ‘I had my daughter adopted,’ she said quietly. ‘Sometimes I wish I hadn’t.’ Her mouth tightened. ‘My brother went on and on about my having already brought enough shame on the family by having gone to
prison. Father had stood by me through all that, although many others would have given up on me. That’s what my brother wanted to do.’

‘Your brother doesn’t believe in women having the vote?’

‘Does he hell!’ Edwina’s eyes glinted. ‘His poor wife is right under his heel. And, of course, getting pregnant was all my fault! I must have led the fellow on! You can imagine the type, can’t you?’

‘Did you love the father? Was he killed in the war?’

‘Love?’ Edwina shrugged. ‘Not enough to want to marry him. He was exciting and all for women having the vote. He knew Bertrand Russell and believed in free love. I did at the time. I never told him about the baby.’ She smiled. ‘But that’s all in the past. I wish you luck with your shipowner.’

‘Thanks,’ said Rebekah politely.

Over the next few weeks she began to view marriage with Joshua differently – to dream of having a family. She would have several children and take them to the farm in Ireland. She asked Joshua about the farm and the animals as they walked past the Floral Pavilion in New Brighton, a seaside resort across the Mersey.

‘I’ve no idea what animals we have.’ His voice was disinterested. ‘Father tried his hand at farming, but I put a man in and left him to it. Anyway, I told you, I’ll try and sell the place when I know where we are with Ireland.’

‘I’d love to visit it one more time before you sell it,’ said Rebekah.’

‘If that’s what you’d like,’ he said
good-humouredly
. ‘I’ll take you there as part of our honeymoon.’

‘I haven’t said I’ll marry you yet,’ she murmured.

The humour vanished from his eyes. ‘No, you haven’t. But I was presuming you would say yes.’ He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. ‘Do say yes now, Rebekah,’ he pleaded, ‘and we could get engaged on your birthday and married in spring. You’ll be wanting a fancy wedding, I suppose?’

‘The whole works,’ she murmured, trying to imagine what it would be like going to bed with Joshua. He could be passionate, and had it not been for Daniel she might have been able to view marriage with him as exciting and right, because she would be obeying her father’s wishes at last. As it was she still had vague doubts, but supposed that since Daniel she would have them about marrying any other man.

‘Well?’ he said impatiently.

She decided and kissed his cheek. ‘Yes. I’ll marry you.’

His face creased into a smile. ‘In the spring? By then Lloyd George should have sorted out De Valera and you can have your visit.’

Rebekah hoped so because the peace talks had been in danger of breaking down.

There seemed to be unrest everywhere in the
following months. In September there were riots in Liverpool when the growing numbers of unemployed staged a protest and charged the Walker Art Gallery. They came up against the police who used their truncheons. Blood splattered the walls of the foyer but no one was killed. It was horrible, thought Rebekah. Violence did not solve anything. A meeting between leaders of Sinn Fein and the British government took place in October despite there still being disturbances, but at last it seemed that a Free Ireland was in sight.

Rebekah, remembering conversations with Daniel, experienced a deep sadness. But there was something else that was causing her sorrow. She had still heard nothing from Brigid and could only presume that her sympathy was with her brother and therefore she did not wish to see Rebekah. She was too proud to write again or to visit. She did miss the whole family but realised with the changes soon to be made in her own life, the split might well have been inevitable.

In December Joshua bought Rebekah a diamond and ruby ring on her twenty-first birthday and took her to Lyon’s State restaurant where they dined and danced.

Her aunt bought her a secondhand car. A Tin Lizzie four-seater, it had side and rear lamps, which frequently went out because they were oil lit. The headlights, though, were electric and ran directly
off the engine. When it was revved up they were bright but when it idled they only let out a dull glow. Rebekah loved it and immediately took her aunt for a drive, having a little trouble with the gears. There were two forward ones, bottom and top, operated by a pedal. Neutral was halfway, but she soon learnt she could only stay in neutral if the handbrake was on. Still, it was her very own car. Her aunt enjoyed the drive but was not pleased when Rebekah told her about the engagement and when she was getting married. ‘I had hoped you would have stayed with me longer. He’s marrying thee for thy money, my dear.’ Her voice was agitated.

‘He’s got money,’ responded Rebekah, sitting on the rug in front of the fire. She added in exasperation: ‘It’s what Papa would have wanted! He mentioned it the last time we spoke. It’s the least I can do to make amends for the worry I gave him. I nearly ran away with someone, just like Mama!’

‘But he stopped thee?’ Her aunt’s cherubic mouth pursed. ‘He would, the hypocrite! Who was it? What happened?’

‘He was a sailor and went down with his ship,’ murmured Rebekah briefly, not wanting to go into further explanations.

Esther’s hands paused on her knitting and she surprised Rebekah again by saying, ‘I loved a sailor once but he was utterly unsuitable. I didn’t need my father to tell me that. He came into St Anne’s Centre
and was different to anybody else I knew. He was a charmer and I thought I might have been able to change him, but he didn’t want to be changed and I wasn’t going to.’ She smiled grimly and started knitting again. ‘Sometimes I wonder how it would have been if I hadn’t been me but thy mother. Still, that’s the past and I can only hope thou won’t rue the day thee marries Mr Green.’