Lights Out Liverpool (44 page)

17 June was referred to as ‘Black Monday’. It was the day Marshall Petain petitioned for an amnesty, the day France fell.

The news was announced by Frank Phillips on the one o’clock bulletin from the BBC. By then, Eileen Costello had already left for work. When the crowded bus arrived at Dunnings, the laughing girls were silenced by the subdued expressions on the faces of those waiting to go home.

At first, the women thought there’d been an accident and someone had been hurt. ‘What’s happened?’ Pauline asked.

‘France has fallen,’ someone shouted. ‘That means we’ve had it! There’s nowt between Britain and Hitler except a little strip of water. We’ll be next, you’ll see!’

Eileen felt an icy ball in her stomach. Suddenly, Annie grabbed her arm. ‘Isn’t it terrible, girl!’ she cried. ‘There’s only us left to fight the battle from now on.’

‘Jaysus!’ Eileen whispered. ‘Only us?’

Not even Gladys could raise a joke that afternoon, though later on she began to sing
We’re gonna hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line
, and everyone thankfully
joined
in. It was a way of releasing the unbearable tension. A cartoon was pinned to the noticeboard showing a British soldier confronting a stormy sea and hordes of invading Germans, and saying, ‘Very well, alone!’

Next day, Winston Churchill broadcast to the people. ‘…
if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, “This was their finest hour
”.’

The country began to prepare for an invasion: roads were blocked, signposts removed, milestones uprooted. Strikes were banned, Bank Holidays cancelled. Wrecked cars were strategically placed on corners and grass verges for use as barricades by troops if the enemy should dare to land. People were warned to keep an eye out for parachutists. Aliens were hurriedly rounded up, mainly Germans and Italians, and sent to internment camps; many of their shops and businesses were attacked. Church bells were silenced, except as a warning that the invasion had started, and every household received a leaflet entitled, IF THE INVADER COMES.

Britain collectively squared its shoulders and committed itself utterly to the war effort, whilst an even more implacable hatred built up against the enemy, Hitler.

And, a few days after Black Monday, Wing Commander Fulford having kept his promise, Nick Stephens heard he was being released from civilian duties and had been accepted in the RAF.

Nick met Eileen outside Dunnings with the news.

‘When are you going?’ she whispered as they walked to his cottage.

‘Sunday.’

‘
That
soon!’ It was only three days away.

‘They need every pilot they can lay their hands on. It’s
going
to be a war in the air from now on.’ His dark eyes were serious, as if the enormity of what lay ahead had only just sunk in.

She wanted to cry, ‘Please don’t go! I can’t live without you!’ but knew she had to put on a brave face. It wasn’t fair on Nick to collapse into tears in front of him.

‘I’ll miss you,’ she said, trying to smile.

‘I should hope so! I shall certainly miss you.’

As soon as they were inside the door, Nick took her in his arms and they made love, clinging to each other hungrily, knowing that their time together was limited.

‘Why don’t you and Tony come and stay on Saturday night?’ he suggested, as they lay on the floor in front of the empty fireplace wrapped in each other’s arms. ‘It means we’ll have a whole twenty-four hours together. Lord knows when we’ll see each other again.’

Eileen needed no persuading. ‘We’ll come first thing Saturday morning,’ she promised. ‘Tony’s dying to see you.’

Nick began to nibble at her ear. ‘I hate being a secret. I want to come and see you openly, walk down Pearl Street with you on my arm.’

‘Don’t do that, Nick!’ The nibbling was sending a delicious sensation through her entire body. It always did.

He looked down at her, smiling slyly, ‘Why not?’

‘You know damn well why not. Oh, God!’ She could stand it no longer. She ran her hands down his body. He was ready for her again. ‘Once more,’ she pleaded. ‘Just once more, then I’ll have to go back to work.’

Saturday turned out to be a gloriously sunny day. The three of them did little, except go for walks, eat, and laze in Nick’s big, wild, overgrown garden, where Tony
found
some ripe strawberries and made himself sick eating every single one.

In the evening, they strolled to the local pub and sat on a bench outside drinking home-brewed cider, whilst Tony had a lemonade.

‘I understand you’re off to give Adolf Hitler a good kick up the arse,’ the landlord said to Nick when he came out to collect the glasses.

‘I certainly hope so,’ Nick said modestly.

‘Well, give him a kick from me while you’re at it.’ The man glanced from Eileen to Tony, then back to Nick. ‘So, this is your family, eh? You’ve never brought them before.’

‘That’s right,’ said Nick. ‘This is my family, and I think it’s about time I took them home.’

‘Good luck and take care!’ Nick’s hand was shaken fiercely. ‘Give them Jerries hell.’

They went home and had a light supper and Tony went to bed without a word of complaint, as if he realised it was time for his mam and Nick to be alone. ‘Let’s go outside for a while,’ Nick said. ‘I think this is the longest day of the year.’

They sat on the striped deckchairs, chatting idly.

‘I know nothing about you,’ Eileen said sadly. She felt slightly tipsy, although she’d only had half a pint of cider. It must have been very strong.

‘You know everything!’ he protested indignantly.

‘Only big things, like how you feel about religion and war and politics. I don’t know the little things – your favourite colour, for instance.’

‘I haven’t got one. I haven’t got a favourite anything, except woman, and you’re it!’

‘You need to live with someone to find out the little things.’

‘Darling, you could have moved in with me months and months ago,’ he said, ‘then you’d know everything there is to know. How often I cut my nails, for instance, how much toothpaste I use, the funny way I tie my shoelaces, the …’

‘Don’t, Nick!’ She put her hand on his arm. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and the flesh felt warm to the touch. He’d caught the sun during the day and he was browner than ever, a lovely deep bronze. She was conscious of the tiny hairs as she rubbed his arm with her thumb.

‘If you do that for much longer,’ he said seriously after a while, ‘I shall drag you down onto the grass and make you pay.’

‘In the open air!’ she responded, pretending to be shocked.

‘That’s right. With all the neighbours looking on.’

In fact, the cottage was too isolated for the garden to be overlooked – and Tony was asleep in the front bedroom!

Eileen rubbed her thumb even harder. Nick stood up and dragged her from the chair and they fell together onto the rough lawn, laughing.

The grass felt cool underneath her body. She’d never thought that making love to Nick could have got better, but there was an added zest, an extra air of excitement to doing it in the open air.

When it was over, they stayed where they were, Eileen with her head in the crook of his arm, as dusk began to fall.

‘It’s uncanny,’ she said. ‘It’s gone eleven, yet it’s still light.’ With the extra hours of daylight, it didn’t get properly dark until midnight.

‘I think we’d better go in,’ said Nick, stretching. ‘It’ll get damp soon.’

‘Have you got any cocoa?’

‘There might be a tin around with a few lumps left at the bottom.’

‘Oh, Nick! You’re a terrible housewife!’

‘I need looking after,’ he said pathetically.

Eileen sat up. ‘Give me your shirt?’

He looked at her incredulously. ‘Are you going to wash it here and now?’

‘No, I’m going to wear it. I’m not making cocoa with nothing on. And you can just put your trousers back on, too, else I won’t put any sugar in yours.’

‘You’re a hard woman, Eileen Costello!’ he said darkly. ‘I shall miss being bossed around.’

It was the first reference all day to the fact he would soon be gone.

Eileen stared at him silently for several seconds, then leapt to her feet and ran into the house, fighting to hold back the tears. By the time Nick came in, she’d put the kettle on, found the tin of lumpy cocoa, and recovered her composure a little.

‘What’s happening to the cottage, Nick?’ she asked with forced brightness. There seemed little reason for him, a southerner, to keep the place on whilst he was gone. His reply took her totally by surprise.

‘Actually,’ he said, ‘I’ve bought it. I thought it would do for us once we’re married. I know it’s only small,’ he added hastily, misreading her look of amazement, ‘but we can have it extended at the side.’

‘Oh, Nick!’ She flung herself into his arms. ‘Thank you,’ she cried. ‘I love it here – and so does Tony.’

‘I assumed you wouldn’t want to move too far from your family.’

‘I don’t. Sheila can bring her kids out. They’ll love the garden, and Annie and Jess, once she has the baby. Me
dad’s
always wanted to grow vegetables …’

‘Hold on a minute!’ Nick threw his arms up in despair. ‘I bought it for you, for us, not the whole of Pearl Street!’

‘You mustn’t half be well off, to be able to buy a house,’ she said in awe.

‘It was only two hundred and fifty quid.’

‘
Only!
’ She began to press the lumps of cocoa into powder, then added the boiling water, milk and sugar. They carried the drinks into the living room.

‘You’ve never asked, have you, Eileen, about money?’ Nick said curiously. ‘I mean, you’ve never wanted to know if I had any.’

‘I still don’t want to know,’ Eileen said flatly.

Nick was bent over the cup, stirring it with a spoon. She realised he was deliberately avoiding her eyes.

‘The reason I brought the subject up,’ he said casually, ‘is I do have a bit my father left me, and I made a will the other day, leaving everything I possess to you, including the cottage.’

Which only went to show, Eileen thought bleakly, that he acknowledged the possibility he might not come back. She wanted to yell at him, to scream that he could have stayed, he didn’t
have
to go, and that it was
him
she wanted, not his house, not his money. Instead, she said politely, ‘Thank you very much.’

‘I’ll give you a key. It may be useful to come here, when, if, the air raids start.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘I’d hate to come back and find you and Tony weren’t here for me.’

Eileen pondered silently for a while, wondering what horrors might lie in store for her, for everyone throughout the country, throughout Europe. Why, right now, Hitler might have started to cross the English Channel. She closed her eyes and imagined big, dark ships forging
through
the water towards the south coast. She saw the decks packed with German soldiers wearing those sinister helmets, with the Nazi swastika on their sleeves.

‘Switch the wireless on, quick,’ she said, panicking. ‘We’ll just catch the midnight bulletin.’ They’d deliberately not listened to the wireless all day.

But if the invasion had begun, the BBC didn’t know about it.

‘Let’s go to bed,’ Eileen said urgently. ‘There’s not much time left, and Nick …’

He reached for her. ‘What, darling?’

‘Tonight, don’t take precautions …’

‘Are you
mad
?’ His mouth fell open in an expression of total shock, and she’d never known his voice so hard and incredulous.

‘But, Nick,’ she began, thinking he was worried how she’d manage on her own with a baby.

Before she could continue, he interrupted hoarsely, ‘Do you seriously think I’d bring a child into the world at this moment in time? For Chrissakes, woman, if the Germans landed, I’d seriously think about killing you and Tony! To create a new life now would be sheer insanity.’

She hadn’t realised he had such a terrible vision of the future. There was nothing of the little boy about him at the moment. You’d think he’d lived a hundred bitter years, the way he spoke.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. A baby, Nick’s baby, would be the best possible thing to remember him by if … Tears threatened again and she blinked them back.

‘I’m sorry, too, for losing my rag.’ As they went upstairs, Eileen first, he slid his hands under the shirt and pulled her back against him. ‘There’ll be plenty of time for children, Eileen, once it’s all over.’

Eileen didn’t bother to argue, but his last words were
at
odds with those he’d uttered previously.

Once in bed, they made love feverishly, but Eileen couldn’t get Nick’s furious outburst out of her mind. It didn’t seem possible, she thought, that they’d come through it all and live happily ever after.

She woke up with a jump when it was still dark. She’d been dreaming that the dark ships had landed, that the soldiers were running up the south coast beaches, bayonets poised, ready to strike …

After that, sleep refused to return, so she got up, put Nick’s shirt on and went downstairs, where she made a cup of tea and pretended to read a book until a glimmer of light appeared round the edge of the blackout curtains and she went outside.

A strange white mist hung over the garden, seemingly solid, and suspended about three feet from the ground. She walked into it, intrigued, and when she turned back, the cottage had disappeared! The grass was soaking under her bare feet. There were plopping noises everywhere, and when she investigated, she found large drops of moisture falling from the trees and the bushes. They sparkled as they slid from leaf to leaf like a little waterfall of jewels. Eileen knelt and caught several drops in the palms of her hands and rubbed them on her face. It made her skin feel fresh and invigorated.

She walked further into the garden. There was nothing to be seen except the white mist which surrounded her on all sides. She had the same feeling she’d had before on many occasions in her life, even when she was a little girl, that she was the only person left on earth, but this time it wasn’t unpleasant, but strangely comforting.