Lights Out Liverpool (53 page)

She called, ‘Come over here, Rosie, luv.’ The child had only buried her own baby on Thursday. She couldn’t be left to watch whilst the entire street drooled over another.

Rosie came, dragging her feet disconsolately.

‘Stay indoors with me a minute, luv.’ She drew the girl inside and took her into the parlour, where she sat wordlessly on the settee. Eileen watched through the window, on tenterhooks, as Jess made her slow and stately progress down to Number 5 with Arthur beaming at her side. Even the men seemed interested in the new baby, Mr Singerman in particular, and Paddy O’Hara was given a chubby finger to shake. She noticed Tony had put in an appearance, and he and Dominic were busy collecting confetti.

By the time Jess reached her front door, Eileen realised she’d missed the train! Nick would wonder what had happened to them.

‘Thanks, Mrs Costello,’ Rosie muttered. ‘I’ll be getting back now.’

‘I hope things turn out well for you in the future, luv,’ Eileen said gently, but Rosie left without saying another word.

Eileen sighed as she picked up the bag, took a final look round, and stepped outside. She had her hand on the knocker, ready to slam the door, when, to her surprise, she saw an ambulance had turned into the street and was being driven slowly down. She paused, she wasn’t sure why, because it couldn’t possibly be anything to do with her, and was even more surprised when the ambulance stopped right outside and the driver jumped out.

‘Mrs Costello?’

‘Yes,’ she frowned.

‘We’ve brought your husband home to you, missus.’ He went round to the back of the vehicle and opened the door.

‘Me husband?’ They must have got the wrong street. Perhaps there was another Mrs Costello nearby. The
crowd
fell silent as they began to converge on the ambulance, watching curiously.

‘That’s right, missus, your husband.’ The driver held out a helping hand and a khaki clad figure stepped into the street.

Francis!

‘There now!’ the driver grinned. ‘Isn’t that a nice surprise?’

‘Hello, Eileen,’ Francis said. ‘I’m home.’

Eileen felt as if she was falling down a deep, dark hole. He looked more dashing and handsome than ever, with a bandage around his head which was particularly thick over his left eye. His legs seemed a bit unsteady, though he was smiling bravely, every bit the gallant wounded hero. She took a faltering step towards him because that’s what everyone would expect her to do, but before she could reach him, he was surrounded by people who began to slap his back and shake his hand and give him the welcome she should have given him herself.

‘What’s going on?’ Paddy O’Hara demanded and Jacob Singerman began to explain.

‘It’s Francis Costello. He’s come home …’

‘What’s the matter, man? What’s the bandage for?’ she heard Dai Evans ask in a voice full of admiration and awe.

‘I’ve lost me eye. Don’t ask how it happened. All I can remember is some sort of explosion.’ Francis looked more proud than upset, as if he’d come home with a medal. Eileen thought as she watched dazedly. No-one seemed to notice she hadn’t gone near.

A small hand took hers and she looked down. Tony! ‘What’s going to happen now, Mam?’ He looked frightened. ‘Are we still going to Melling?’

Through the blur in her head she realised there was
something
very important that had to be done. She sat down on the step and pulled Tony down beside her. ‘Listen, luv, you’re a big boy now, and I want you to go on a big message for me. I want you to catch the train into town. Nick’ll be waiting and you must tell him what’s happened. Tell him I can’t come. I can’t come
ever
! He’ll put you on the next train back. Here’s the money for your fare.’

‘Is me Dad home for good, like?’

‘I don’t know, luv.’ Her voice broke. ‘I don’t know anything.’

‘Oh, Mam!’ His little face contorted. He was about to cry, when she gave him a gentle shove. ‘Go on, luv, before your Dad notices you. Nick’ll be worried about where we are.’

‘He’s a brave chap altogether,’ Paddy was saying emotionally to Mr Singerman. ‘He’d still be waiting for his call up papers, a man of his age, if he hadn’t joined the Territorials. Francis!’ he called. ‘Where are you? I want to shake you by the hand.’

‘In a minute, Paddy,’ Francis said jovially. ‘I’ve been home all of a minute and I still haven’t kissed me wife.’

Eileen froze as he came towards her. She turned her head when he clasped her by the shoulders so that his lips merely brushed her cheek.

‘Where’s Tony?’

‘He’s on a message,’ she said stiffly. ‘He’ll be back shortly.’

‘Eileen, luv,’ he murmured softly so no-one could hear, ‘they’re discharging me from the army. I’m sorry about the way things have gone in the past, particularly last Christmas. But I promise I’ll be a good husband from now on. You have my word on that, luv.’

Eileen didn’t answer.
This wasn’t happening!
The whole
world
seemed to have turned itself inside out in the space of a few seconds and her brain was numb with the shock. Fortunately, Francis was dragged away by eager hands as the fact that he was home began to flash like wildfire throughout the neighbouring streets. Someone had even brought out a chair for him to sit on.

‘Will you still be moving to this Melling place, Eileen?’ Aggie Donovan asked. ‘It’ll be nice for Francis. He’ll get better more quickly out in the country.’

The question brought Eileen to her senses. ‘
No!
’

‘Well, in that case, girl, you can always count on a hand from me and the other women if he needs looking after. You mustn’t think of giving up your job, now.’

‘Thanks, Aggie.’ She knew the neighbours would always be there to stretch out a helping hand.

Eileen was about to go back into the house which she thought she’d left forever, when her sister came running up.

‘I was indoors,’ Sheila panted. ‘I’ve only just heard …’

‘If you don’t mind, Sheil, I’d like to be by meself awhile.’

‘Anything you say, luv. I’ll go and look for our Dad.’

Eileen went inside. With a sigh that came from her very roots of her being, she curled herself up in a chair and sat there for a long, long time, completely unaware of the commotion outside as more people turned up to welcome Francis Costello home. She prayed no-one would knock or come in, because she didn’t want to be disturbed whilst she was with Nick.

He was twirling her around and around to
their
song and the music swelled, so loud, it filled the room. Eileen smiled. They were making love on the grass outside the cottage; then he was coming towards her down a sunny
London
street with that funny loping walk, his lovely dark eyes smiling …

Tony’s thoughts were also with Nick as he sat on the train making its way into town. He felt very small all by himself – it was the first time he’d travelled so far alone – but also rather important. It was a responsible thing Mam had asked him to do, but what did she mean, she couldn’t come
ever
?

More than anything in the world, Tony had been looking forward to moving to the cottage in Melling, to the room with the white walls and the flowered curtains Mr Singerman had sewn specially for him. He couldn’t wait to play football in the big garden, even though it meant playing by himself until he made friends at his new school, but most of all, he was looking forward to having Nick for a dad.

It was difficult to imagine there’d been a time he hadn’t liked Nick, when nowadays he loved him almost as much as he did Mam. Nick was brave and handsome and had fought the Battle of Britain almost single-handed. But now, Tony thought fearfully, his real dad was home and what did that mean? His real dad never asked his opinion on things and seemed genuinely interested in the answer, or chucked him under the chin and called him ‘son’, the way Nick did. When he remembered the things his real dad did, Tony felt a ball of something unpleasant rise up and gather at the back of his throat, which made him shiver.

An old man sitting opposite noticed the shiver. ‘Are you cold, lad?’ he asked in a concerned voice.

‘A bit,’ said Tony. He wasn’t cold at all, but how else could he explain the shiver to a stranger?

‘I’ll close the window.’ The old man stood up and
began
to struggle with the window without much success. Tony climbed onto the seat to help and between them they got it closed.

‘Better now?’ The man had a loose, drooping fold of flesh between his chin and his throat which wobbled when he spoke.

Tony nodded. He had a horrible feeling he was going to cry and kept blinking his eyes furiously to hold back the tears. He would sooner die than cry in public, and felt almost glad when the old man began to chatter on about football and how there’d never be another player like Dixie Dean, because it meant he had to be polite and concentrate and supply suitable answers from time to time. Anyroad, it was quite interesting and stopped him thinking about Mam and Nick and his dad for most of the journey.

When the train drew into Exchange Station, the old man said kindly, ‘Keep your pecker up, lad. Things are never quite as bad as they seem,’ and Tony realised he hadn’t hidden his feelings after all.

As soon as he got off the train, he saw Nick. He was wearing one of those shabby suits Mam always made fun of, clutching the barrier with both hands as he strained his head to see the passengers making their way towards the exit. He didn’t notice the little boy darting in and out of the crowds because his anxious gaze was set too high. He was looking for the smooth blonde head of Mam. Tony had handed over his return ticket and had it clipped and was tugging at Nick’s sleeve before he realised he was there.

It was only then the tears which had been threatening for so long refused to be held back another minute, and Tony began to cry.

He and Nick stared at each other for quite a while,
neither
speaking. There seemed no need for words. Then Nick picked him up and hugged him very tightly and Tony slid his arms around the neck of the man he’d so wanted to be his dad. After a while, Nick gave a long shuddering sigh and said in a strangely patient voice, ‘What’s happened, son?’

Jack Doyle thought his heart would break when he saw the frozen, tragic expression on the face of his girl.

They stood in the living room, facing each other. Jack shuffled his feet awkwardly. ‘It ain’t the end, luv,’ he said gruffly. ‘Y’can still see Nick.’

She shook her head. When she spoke, her voice was flat and tired, as if something had died inside her. ‘No, Dad. I’ll never see Nick again. It wouldn’t be proper, not now.’

‘But, luv …’ he began, but she shook her head again.

‘It wouldn’t be fair, Dad, either. Nick’s only young and he’d have no future with me. When could we get married? Under the circumstances, I can’t leave Francis, can I?’ Francis had been disfigured fighting for his country. For all his many faults, he was entitled to something from her, his wife.

‘Nick’ll find a way round things,’ Jack said desperately. ‘You’ll see.’

‘Oh, he’ll try, but there’s no way I’ll let him.’ There wasn’t a shadow of doubt in her mind that he’d be waiting outside Dunnings on Monday, but she wouldn’t go. She’d stay in the canteen with the girls and they’d laugh and joke and she’d join in, although she’d be tearing apart inside.

‘If only I hadn’t missed the train, Dad.’ They’d all be in Melling by now, and Francis would have returned to an empty house. Would she have come back, she wondered,
once
she was ensconced with Nick and she discovered Francis was home? It was something she’d never know.

‘My poor, dear girl!’

For the first time Eileen could remember, her dad took her in his strong arms and held her close. ‘P’raps, once this bloody war’s over …’ he muttered, leaving the sentence hanging in mid-air.

‘Aye, Dad, p’raps then, but I’ve a feeling it’s only just begun,’ she said hopelessly.

The entire thing was his fault, Jack thought guiltily. If Eileen hadn’t been so daft, she wouldn’t have been hooked up to Francis Costello in the first place.

‘Mam!’ Tony came in, panting. He’d run all the way from Marsh Lane Station. The knife twisted even further in Jack Doyle’s heart when he noticed his grandson’s eyes were red with weeping.

‘Did you see him, luv? Oh, what did he say?’ Eileen grabbed him, patting his clothes as if she could still feel traces of Nick there.

‘He didn’t say much, Mam,’ the little boy said breathlessly. ‘But he bought a card and wrote something on it. I’ve got it in me pocket.’

He handed Eileen a postcard. It was a sepia photograph of St George’s Hall, with a few words written on the back in the familiar untidy scrawl. Eileen knew, before she read it, what the message would say, and despite everything, she wanted to believe it more than anything on earth.

We’ll Meet Again, Nick!

If you have enjoyed

Lights Out Liverpool

don’t miss

THE HOUSE BY PRINCES PARK

by Maureen Lee

available in Orion paperback

ISBN
: 0 7528 4835 6

The woman lay listening to the rain as it beat against the hospital windows. She and Alice hadn’t picked a good night to have their babies. As had become the custom in Bootle over the last few months, there’d been an air raid, a bad one, and they’d all been moved down to the cellar. Alice’s lad had been born only minutes after the All Clear, at a quarter past eleven. Her own son had arrived almost three hours later, so they’d have different birthdays. Later, there’d been an emergency. Some woman had been found in the rubble of her house about to drop her baby. Since then, things had quietened down.

In a bed opposite, her sister-in-law was fast asleep, dead to the world, like the other six women in the ward. ‘Why can’t
I
sleep like that?’ the woman murmured fretfully. ‘I can never sleep.’ Her mind was always too full of plans for the future, schemes: how to get this, how to do that. How to make twenty-five bob last the whole week, including paying the rent and buying the food. Oh, how she’d love new curtains for the parlour! But new curtains, new anything, were an impossible dream.